Chapter 3
A week later Maria sat on her couch admiring the lamp. She remembered one almost exactly like it from her childhood. Her father. Her father, Stavros Consentine had said it was his lamp. Yet he never saw the beauty of the lamp as Maria had. He always claimed it was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. Her father had disappeared. Left one day. Maria always wondered if she'd left or was forced to leave. It was all a mystery. She had thought of going to Greece. Meet her father's family, the one that was such a secret to her. The only thing he'd ever tell her was that his family was from Greece. He'd never even tell her how old he was. On her birth certificate she had no father. Just her mother. Thus the last name.
"Father what ever happened to you?" Maria whispered, wiping a tear from her eye. "I'm so lonely here. Mother left to go travel Europe. It's just me. Me and Peyton, you wouldn't know her. I met her the year after you left."
David waved a hand in front of himself and could see through the lamp. He saw the beautiful woman sitting before him, wiping the single tear from her face and talking to her father. Greek father. This beauty was part Greek. David sighed as he watched her. She looked so sad, so lonely. David felt the sudden urge to comfort her. Something he hadn't felt since his damnation into the golden lamp. Usually all he felt was the urge to throw the woman on the floor or bed or table, whatever near and fuck her brains out. That was his job. His single job. All he had to do for the last 2,000 years. He had defiently become a master at his trade.
He found himself wishing for the first time ever that his mistress would summon him properly to her. Let him give her passion. He'd heard Peyton's decloration of the young woman's virginity and David found himself envisioning what it would be like to sink himself inside of her, until he'd gotten past her barrier and shown her how it felt to feel passion, extasy.
He sat back on the threaded rug laying on the floor of the lamp and watched her sit on the couch until she'd fallen asleep. David watched her sleep, feeling himself grow harder, feeling his dark hard breaking for the innocent woman. He would have pleasured himself 2,000 years earlier but it wouldn't do any good now. He couldn't feel pleasure, only give it. And he had given it too many times to count. Each time made him feel dirtier and dirtier. Any dream he'd ever had of being set free vanished over 200 years earlier. He closed his eyes and lay on the rug, hoping that his mistress would call to him soon. He was getting stir crazy locked up in the lamp. He had no idea how many years he'd been locked up in the lamp but he knew it had been to long.