You can use me as long as you love me

Mark's POV

There I was again. Under my covers with her pressed upon my chest. I always woke up before her. Putting my glasses on, my common sense returned to me.

Why do I let Maureen do this to me? I'm her puppet. That's what it is. Her sex toy. Whenever she needs more than a woman she has me, her living and breathing dildo.

"Wow that was fun," Maureen yawned with a stretch. Damn, she's awake. My thoughts are always interrupted by her. But why do I still love her? Why?

She tilted her head upwards, staring at me with her big brown eyes. She arched an eyebrow and smiled seductively. "Are you ready for more?"

I gazed at my clock radio. "It's eleven, Maureen, I have my interview at noon."

She kissed me roughly and straddled me. "We have some time to kill." No no no no no. Not again. It's always like this. Now because of her, I'm going to be late for my interview.

"Maureen." Her tongue moistened my chest as in traveled downwards. "I can't do this right now. I need this job and..." Oh god! Oh no! I'm hard now.

Why do I let her control me? Every part of me beckons for her touch now. My common sense is gone. I throw her off of me playfully and enter her. Thrusting. Pulsating. Our bodies becoming one throbbing and moaning mess.

I didn't know how much time was going by. I didn't care. I didn't care about what Roger would think or what Joanne would do to Maureen. I didn't think about my job interview at the studio on twenty-ninth and Broadway. All I kept thinking was pacing myself so that we came together. I loved making her happy and I knew it was the only way I could get her to go.

Ah, we came! I rolled off of her panting and looked over at Maureen smiling like her idiotic self. "That was funner!" she giggled.

I knew better than to tell Maureen that funner wasn't a real word. But the blood was slowing flowing back to my brain so I knew I would out of it for a while. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maureen putting her clothes back on.

"Where are you going?" I groaned.

"Well, I'm supposed to be meeting Joanne at our flat in fifteen minutes for an intimate supper."

I wrapped my comforter around my waist and followed her. "Maureen, wait," I felt a twinkle in my eye, a smirk on my lips, "There must be something I could do to make you stay."

She opened the door. "I'm sorry, Pookie. I have to go. I'll call you." She kissed me sweetly. It was a kiss filled with a sincere promise. But I knew I would only be there when she wanted me and not vice versa.

"You are so whipped," Roger said behind me.

I turned to face him, still with the comforter around my waist. "Roger, I know how you feel."

His brow furrowed. "About what?"

"I now realize how hard it must have been for you to get off of smack. Maureen is my drug. And Joanne's too. We can't get enough of her. Whenever she calls, we come running, like lap dogs knowing that we'll get a treat when we reach her. I know she uses me, but I love her."

"Mark, you go put some clothes on and then we'll talk about this."

I left the room and threw on a pair of jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt. "SPEAK!" the answering machine bellowed mine and Roger's voice in unison.

"Hey Mark, it's me." Maureen! I ran over to the phone, but Roger stepped between me and my drug.

"Roger, get the hell out of my way."

"Listen, there is something going on right now," said the machine.

"This is an intervention."

"Me and Joanne are kind of tipsy and want you to come over."

What? Three? Maureen...Joanne...and me? I have to go! Who would pass this up? A fool! No wait, I think a fool would go! I grabbed my jacket that was slung over the table and headed for the door.

"Hope to see you soon..."

The brooding guitarist guarded the doorway well. "Move you son of a bitch! Lecture me tomorrow!"

"BYE!" The machine clicked off.

"You want me to let you give in to your desire?"

Let's think? Hmmm. Two women. Two hot women. Two hot, sexy women that want to have sex with me at the same time, of course I want to! "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!"

I darted out the door and ran to Eleventh and Avenue B. I don't think I ever ran that fast. EVER! I kicked the door open. Adrenaline pumped through my body. Oh I am so ready for this. I ran into their bedroom and found them under the covers not wearing much of anything. The sheets moved rapidly. They were kissing passionately. Looking so involved into each other. Oblivious to the world.

I walked out of there. I knew she would be back. It was Joanne's turn. I feel like a child again waiting in line for my turn. But I knew it would come.

Entering the loft, I saw Roger sitting on the table plucking out a tune on his guitar. The notes blended together into a powerful ballad. "Roger, I'm a sick man. I need help."

He made me tea and sat me down to talk. I don't think we talked this much since April killed herself and he found out he had AIDS.

"But as much as I don't want Maureen, I know I need her. I crave her touch. Her kiss. Her love. What is wrong with me? Why do I run to her every time she beckons me? Maybe I should right a play about it. Yeah, that's it, a play! Maureen is my ticket to screenplay gold! And the only way to write this is to give in to temptation. Emotion. Devotion. And most of all, my love."

"You are one fucked up individual, Mark Cohen."