Sinfully YOURS

Tessa Morris.

“Men,” I choke on a laugh. “Just a nasty bunch of shitheads.” I scoff. “It's been two fucking years since I…”

The creepy silence makes me pause. 

Reality slowly sifts in, and I'm staring at the wide eyes of my book club members. They gasp in awe, including Miss Rebecca, the host. 

What the fuck?!

Jerking out of my mind, I look at the blank page of my diary. I was supposed to be writing my thoughts on the question; describe your ideal man, not spew shit. 

“Tessa,” she gently approaches me. 

Her hair is tinted white, and she is in cooperative attire even though this meeting is informal. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

My jaws are still on the floor. Scanning the sea of heads, a pair of daring green eyes watch me. 

“Uh… no.” I stammer. 

My phone beeps, saving me a lifetime of explanation. 

‘A new gig. The Thompsons need your cleaning services. 6 PM prompt - Manager.’

It's just 4 PM and it will only take me twenty minutes of hopping the bus to get there. 

“I have to go.”

I roughly shove my items in my maxi bag, sling it around my shoulder, and endure the walk of shame. 

The scorching summer sun bathes me once I step outside. Motorists line up in a hounding traffic. Lately, the traffic jam in San Francisco is crazy. I start trekking down, deciding to save a few bucks and maybe time.

Have your life been so fucked up by someone you love dearly? Well, I'm Tessa Morris and this is my story. 

I met James in high school. He was my first and only true love. After five years of loving his imperfection, I was a few hours to saying my vows, only to walk in on him banging his best man. 

“Watch out!” 

An angry voice startles me. 

I stand on my toes, frozen in shock. 

Unexpectedly, a teardrop trickle, then another. I thought I'd gotten closure, but daily, I cry and fuck myself to sleep. I don't need any man. 

The small black gate opens and the gatekeeper ushers me in. 

“Just in time.” 

Mrs Thompson grips my wrist and pulls me along. She’s a much older lady with dozens of grandkids in her care. 

“I keep hoping you'd never be too busy for me. Gosh! I love your work.” 

She yaps as she leads me upstairs in her brick-walled duplex. 

Oh, my god!

I stop to examine the mess. A stack of dirty clothes is scattered about. A mountain of Legos and strange toys litter the place. 

“I know,” she sighs and randomly picks up anything. “I will pay double.”

Fair deal. 

I plug in my earphones and start cleaning. In two hours, I was done. My white shirt is soaked with sweat and my muscles ache. 

“You're a blessing, Tessa.” She hugs me warmly. “I'll send your tip separately from your company's f*e.”

“Thanks. Next time, Mrs. Thompson.”

“Definitely.” 

Too exhausted, I walk down to the bus station. I could use the comfort of a cab, but the extra bucks would cover up for groceries and electricity. 

*** ***

8: 50 PM

Turning the doorknob, it's gives way to my shockingly neat apartment. I purse my lips and squint my eyes. Everything seems off. The place is well arranged, and every surface is neay polished like I'm some freak.

'Did I- How did this-" 

I can't seem to get my words right. I clean people's houses, while mine is like a dumpster. In my defense, I clean every weekend. But this isn't even the weekend and I'm not so particular with my home.

Slowly, I turn around, accessing every single detail. The spicy scent of a male's cologne lingers in the air. 

'Was someone here?' My heart is palpitating. I feel tingling sensation all over. 

The windows are closed. I met the door locked too. I puff cool air and shake my head. Just maybe hallucinating has added to the list of my problems.

'What if someone did?!' The dark voice in my head won't go away. 'The next plan might be to abduct you. Call the cops, Tessa!'

My anxiety builds a thick web that crawls all over my brain like haunted houses in horror movies. I can't kick the nagging thought out of my head even if I tried. Without further delaying it, I sort for my phone and dialed the emergency line. 

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" A polished male voice calls from the other side. 

"I'm Tessa and I feel a phantom presence lingering in my home, I think I have an illegal squatter." 

"Right now, do you feel safe, Tessa?" 

"Uh- yeah. Sort of..." I just shrug and sigh. "The whole place is tidy, unlike how I left it. It's weird." I stutter. "Someone broke in." I walk to the door to examine it, but there are no signs of an intruder. 

"I understand you, Tessa. Are you expecting anyone, relatives or friends?"

"No... no." I raked through my brain. "My family lives miles away and I don't have friends."

"Okay." She paused. "And colleagues?"

"I- yeah, but we're close for this stunt." I itch my scalp. "I work in a cleaning company, but we don't do charity cases."

It feels like she suppressed a laugh. "Tessa, do me a favor and ask your colleagues. If you feel unsafe, please reach out immediately."

I nod in between words. 

"Have a nice day, Tessa." The call drops.

Did any of my colleagues really do this? Why would they?

When nothing comes to mind, I strip off my dirty clothes and walk into the bathroom, butt naked. 

The downpour of cold water washes down my petite frame. I shut my eyes and replay today's event. It’s always therapeutic, except that the incident at the book club makes me embarrassed. 

The shower comes off. Dripping wet, goosebumps crawl along my bare skin as the cool night breeze hugs me. 

Flipping the calendar over, I ticked a column with my red marker. It's 912 days since I called off my wedding. 

Our wedding shoot is atop the column. There he is, smiling like a saint. 

“Jerk. Fucking piece of shit.” 

I sniffle and brush tears off my cheeks. 

Damn! I might have walked away, but a piece of him still lingers in me. James had groomed me. He was a freak, and he handled me so well. 

“I hope you get stabbed just as hard.”

In my tradition, I retrieve my vibrator. The lockers also seem off. My perfume oils and personal items are neatly kept in a fine row. My vibrator is placed next to the pad bag. I mean, I always dump it like I did James. 

"It's all in your head, Tes." I recite to still my anxiety. "It will all fade away." 

My body is still in the mood. I slip a cassette into the CD player, setting the mood. 

I dump my wet ass on the bed and spread my legs apart, exposing my pussy. My filthy hand rubs the small bushy area. 

“Hmmm,”

I moan and rub harder, bruising my pink skin. 

My free hand grabs my breast, slides smoothly to the other, and pinches my nipple. 

Shoving in and out my body, I finger fuck myself. 

“Uh…” I managed a soft cry. 

My body isn't responding to my command. It feels like a chore. Sighing in frustration, I turn on the vibrator and thrust it in. 

It vibrated inside of me, stimulating my dead nerve endings. 

“Fuck.” I hiss, feeling bruised. 

My bottle of lubricant is close by. I smear a generous amount of oil all over and go in again. The buzz of the instrument intensifies as I increase the speed. 

“Oh… fuck!” I grab the sheets with one hand and continue to tease myself with the other. 

The small tongue flicks my clit. 

I press my thighs together, spreading the pleasure that gradually awakened. My body jerks to a quick halt even before I can get excited. 

Crying in frustration, I collapse in bed and toss the vibrator aside. I hold back a cry. It hurts badly. Over time, I've considered the services of an escort, but first,

I can't afford one, and second, never will a man have the pleasure of my body. 

Oddly, I feel something eerie hover around. A shadow passes by my open window. 

My heart jumps out of my body and I jerk upright. 

Oh, my god! 

I hastily pull the sheets over my nakedness and turn off the music.

The gentle thud of footsteps on my balcony is steady. 

Someone is around and worst still, had watched me fuck myself. 

The realization that I haven’t locked the door, hit me hard like a storm. I run to the small kitchen space and grab a knife and a fork. 

Thick beads of sweat seep out of my pores. My body is literally shaking, and my palms are sweaty. I clutch tighter on the weapon and approach the door. 

The footsteps stop. 

Waiting for what seems like five minutes without hearing any sound, I open the door. 

Emptiness. 

No one is on the balcony. 

The hood is dark, save the dull streetlights. I look around, still, no sign of anyone on the lonely street. 

I'm about to shut the door when I stop. 

A strange box is right by the tall flower vase, and I can swear that it wasn't there earlier. 

‘Call the cops! Run back in!’

Tons of scared command rings in my head. Instead of doing any of those, my curiosity pushes me to grab the box. My heart is racing hard against my chest. 

I heave a soft sigh, noting it isn't explosives or any lethal weapon. It's just a big denim jacket, soaked in an intoxicating blend of sandalwood and spice. 

Against my will, I drag in the irresistible cologne. 

A note drops from the pocket. It's a small fanciful vintage note. 

I pick it up and read. 

‘I'm here now, Tessa.’