It had been going on for hours and hours, all the anger at Eric, all the rage at what Eric and Mark had done to me-- and it was coming out in this act of sexual explosion between Mark and I.
I remember wishing were being videotaped.
Because I wanted to keep this forever, I wanted to play it over and over and to show it to Eric-- to force Eric to see what Mark and I were capable of-- that we were capable of the most intense passion.
"You're better than him," Mark said during it, hearing my thoughts as if I had said them out loud. "He can't compete, Andrew."
And as sick as it was, it pushed me further into this act of revenge and pain.
Hours and hours of sexual exploration-- going into worlds I'd never even fantasized about-- acts of domination, acts of desperation, acts of power.
We wound around each other's naked bodies like we were in heat. Like two animals in a courtship of sex and procreation. We were loud, our screams filling Mark's entire house and echoing to the street outside.
I knew if anyone had been walking past, they would have stopped.
But it was what I wanted. It was a way of releasing the betrayal. It was the only way I could let go of my anger and hatred for Eric. I thought that maybe afterwards I would find an objectivity to what had happened.
We fought, Mark and I -- we wrestled, I scratched his forehead, he bit my neck -- we screamed and then it was over... two men, covered in sweat and juice.
Hours later.
I stood in my kitchen. I had every cookbook out and I was working like a magician-- flour flying, recipes covered in egg whites and sugar, butter and cream.
What was I cooking?
I had no idea. I only knew that my entire body and mind was sore. I could barely stand at times, and fell against the counter to support myself. Every muscle in my body ached from what I'd done with Mark. I was sated.
And hungry.
I spent three hundred dollars at the grocery store on the way back from Mark's. Lobsters, steaks, creme, butter, chocolate, fresh strawberries, raspberries, passion fruit, mangos, heavy cream, ice cream, junk food, chips, sodas, and candy bars. I bought and bought and bought.
I gorged on my purchases. I prepared a soufflŽ, I baked fresh cinnamon rolls and wheat bread, Lobster Bisque and dumplings. I was starving and thirsty. I drank a whole bottle of Cabernet without even feeling it.
Eric came home at some point, stood in the kitchen and stared at me. My neck had teeth-marks and I knew he noticed. I smiled.
God. What had we become?
