Sauce*Box 19: Seeds

Seeds
by Terrie Relf

ELL, PERCY, IT LOOKS like we’re being stood up." The cat meowed, arched her back and hissed.

"You don’t like him much, do you?" Leah rubbed Percy under her neck until she purred.

At 11:30, Leah decided to go to bed. Wiping away a stray tear, she took her glass and the nearly empty Merlot bottle into the bedroom.

Ever so slowly, Leah undressed, imagining that Sean was lying on the bed, watching. Her hands were Sean’s as she slowly slipped the dress up over her thighs. She imagined how he would pause to massage and kiss them, brushing his lips over her silk panties, her belly, teasing her nipples with his tongue, then clasping her mouth with a passionate kiss as he eased the dress over her head.

Trembling with the fantasy, Leah collapsed on the edge of her bed. She sat there for several minutes, wondering what she would do when—and if—he showed up where she worked.

"Café del Noche just won’t be the same without him."

"I’m ok, really I’m ok, " she consoled her flushed face in the dresser’s mirror. She opened the top drawer in search of her comfiest flannel nightgown, put it on, then her purple velour robe.

"Now where did I put that book, Percy?"

Percy yowled and leapt from her favorite spot on the bed as someone banged on the front door.

Leah looked at the clock; it was after midnight.

The banging became more insistent. As she cautiously approached the door, it was to hear Sean’s voice pleading.

"Leah—let me in!"

She unbolted the front door, leaving the screen locked.

"Shhh", she whispered, "you’re going to wake the neighbors! It’s after midnight, Sean. You should have called. "

She couldn’t help but notice how disheveled he looked with his long black hair free from its usual gel and tie. He was wearing jeans, and his white T-shirt had an odd-looking stain.

Leah wasn’t pleased. Not pleased at all. This was not the Sean
she knew. This was not the Sean she wanted.

"Let me in, Leah. I’ll explain."

"Ok, but just for a bit. I really need to get to bed."

She unlocked the screen door, and Sean reached for her. Leah was taken off guard by his possessive embrace. This was the first time he’d touched her except for a brief brush of his lips along her cheek. And once, just before he left the café, there had been an exquisite moment when he slipped his hand into her hair, wound it around his fingers, pulling her toward him.

She had prepared herself for a kiss, but all he did was inhale the scent of her hair.

Sean sank into the couch, studying her intently. An awkward silence permeated the room.

"So, why were you late? Why didn’t you call?"

Sean offered her one of his most engaging smiles. Leah melted, his excuses momentarily forgotten.

"Sit here beside me," he patted the couch. She drew her robe’s belt tighter around her waist, shook her head.

"Wouldn’t you like something to eat? A glass of wine?" Then she remembered the pomegranates she’d bought the day before.

"Just a minute—I’ll be right back."

She returned, handed him a pomegranate on a wooden cutting board, along with a sharp knife.

He lifted the knife, tested its blade against a finger, drawing blood. He sucked on his finger for a moment, then cut the pomegranate in half, revealing the star inside.

Gently lifting a seed from its fibrous resting place with the curved nail of a small finger, Sean pressed it against her lips until she opened her mouth.

"Suck it, roll it around with your tongue."

"Kind of sour, but sweet, too."

"Don’t swallow the seed," he warned. "Otherwise, you’ll be spending time with Hades—and I don’t care to have a rival!"

He laughed at her perplexed expression. "I would miss you, and the world would miss you. There would be no more spring until your mother’s rage rescued you from him—but not before she made the world to suffer for her loss."

Leah thought his words strange, then shrugged them off to rantings of a poet. He’s probably into that local poetry Slam scene, she thought.

Not knowing what else to do with the seed, not wanting to spit it into her hand, she swallowed it when he wasn’t looking.

He continued to feed her the fruit until his fingers and her lips were stained vermilion.

"Aren’t you having any?"

In response, Sean grasped her face in his long, slim hands. Lead shivered at the feel of them, so cold against the heat of her face.

He parted her lips with his tongue, nibbled on her lower lip, then released her with a groan.

"You see—now I have had some as well." Smiling serenely, he wound his hands in her hair, pulled her toward him.

* * *

He led her into the bedroom, and even though she’d fantasized about this for weeks, now she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. He was difficult to resist, and she wanted him in the worse way.

Leah watched, mesmerized, as Sean slid out of his clothes: first his T-shirt, which he wadded up and threw across the room. Then, his jeans, one slow snap at a time.

Sean now stood before her, profoundly naked, his body totally hairless. Beneath where his navel should have been, hung a huge penis, struggling to rise as she stared.

He laughed, and the sound was not a pleasant one.

Leah backed away until she was up against the bedroom wall. He moved closer, swirling her fear around in his mind, savoring its fine bouquet.

"Come Leah, be with me," he whispered.

‘This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening,’ she moaned inside her mind, unable to resist his call.

"Now Leah, such thoughts. I thought this was what you wanted?"

He took her hand and guided her to the bed. From somewhere inside her fear, she felt an urge to touch him.

"That’s right, that’s what you want, Leah. That’s what we both want."

She felt disgusted when she first felt his skin. When she placed her arms around his shoulders, her hands sank into a pool of indigo darkness. An immense wave of nausea welled up in her throat.

He pressed his cold lips against hers. Gently at first, then more insistent, biting and sucking her tongue.

He released her tongue, spread her legs with his knees, plunged inside her.

Leah cried out.

"Shh—you don’t want to wake the neighbors," he sneered.

She could have sworn that his eyes were brown, but now they were a frigid blue. He lowered his face to hers, pursing his lips for another kiss.

Leah choked back a sob as his face seemed to shift form, then return to what she knew as Sean, only to shift again to something even more hideous.

Stifling her screams with his mouth, he sucked the breath from her body, then breathed into her anew.

Finally, he arched his back, trembled, and spewed his awful seed into her.

After he withdrew, Sean rolled her over, planted a lingering kiss on her belly.

She wanted to yell at him, to shriek, "Get out of here--I never want to see you again!" but all she could do was lie there, drained.

Sean looked at her in mock seriousness. "You’re not going to get rid of me so easily, my dear. You’re mine, now."

"Go to sleep." He waved his hands over her eyes, and she was instantly transported into the vast open space of a dream, where a shrouded figure stood vigil by a jagged rent in the earth. The river rose around her, but she was buoyed by unseen hands guiding her to shore. Shadows flickered behind pomegranate trees that burgeoned with taut fruit.

Clothed in radiant darkness, He approached her, extended a hand to pull her from the muddy banks of the river.

"It seems we’ll get to share you after all."

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Return to Sauce*Box, Spring 2001