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Love Bites Lie
From: Will

My Girlfriend and I had been together five years. We had gotten together when I was sixteen and she was fifteen. Now I was twenty-one and she was twenty and our relationship was stale and already so full of rage and disappointment.

I met another woman in a poetry class. Her name was Sheila and she looked daggers of lust into my guts. One night I asked her to come with me on a drive. We ended up on a mountain top, under a clear sky full of stars and possibility, falling ravenously upon each other until our clothes were literally in shreds.  Sheila put a dozen painful love bites on my neck and chest.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror when I got back to the apartment I shared with my girlfriend.  Love bite bruises everywhere.  Angry red and blue blotches, a case of the plague.

I took a shower.  Destroyed my shredded clothing, to get rid of any physical evidence, and jumped into bed, turning out the lights.

When my girlfriend came home she wanted to turn the lights on.   If she did I would either have to feign a case of plague or I would be dead. 

"No," I said lustily.  "Don't turn on the lights.   Just take off your clothes and jump into bed."

She did as I asked and as we made love I held her head to each of the places where I was sore on my neck and chest and said, "Bite me.  Yeah, suck!   Hard!"  I had never behaved this way before and she got excited.   She went wild.  I grimaced in the darkness.  She doubled the number of bites.

In the morning she marveled at all the blotches on my body.  I was a Dalmatian.  "That was the most fun we've had for a long time," she nuzzled in to me.

"Yeah," I said.  "It sure was."

epilogue to previous lie -- please also publish this with my lie:
I was stupid and immature and could not tell her that I had, what I would call now, after years of therapy, serious intimacy issues. Couldn't trust.  I hurt her miserably time and time again.  She finally just cut me loose like piece of mold.  Birds pecked my eyes for months.  I pathetically crawled back to her again and again.  Each time she found an increasingly poignant means of saying "No."  Finally I lost track of her completely.  I only wanted to tell her I am sorry.

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