Chapter 21

Marcie and Mark Meet

One month later ... A cocktail party at developer, Hughie Jennings home, Barry Borelli, a City Councilmen and Attorney was about to explain his marriage to Mark.

“Try this scotch, Newlin. It’s one of the best available; single malt, eighteen years old and I guarantee it will go down as smooth as silk.”

Mark glanced at Borelli’s wife Scotia, who had a glass of white wine, and then accepted the crystal glass and took a sip.

“Mmmm, you weren’t kidding. It does feel like silk.”

Borelli fiddled with his own scotch as he formulated for the tenth time what he needed to say to his wife’s latest lover. To his surprise Mark took advantage of his hesitation and jumped in. “So you’ve both had affairs then?”

Borelli nodded and Scotia’s knuckles turned white, revealing her tension as Mark continued, saying: “Did you think that they would somehow cancel each other out leaving your marriage unaffected?”

He was asking out of curiosity and not being judgmental. After all he was screwing Mrs. Borelli and that appeared to be the reason for this meeting.

The couple sat in two separate chairs thereby forming a triangle of sorts. The Borelli’s had both avoided the cozier sofa leaving that to Mark. Obviously they didn’t want to sit beside one another during this confrontation or meeting as it had been called earlier.

“He started things by fucking his secretary,” Scotia huffed. There was bitterness in her voice, and Mark felt her use of the ‘f’ word assured him she was still angry about it.

“So you felt that you’d get even ... is that it?”

“Hey, whose side are you on here?” Scotia spat out angrily.

“It’s a reasonable question, Scotia,” Barry Borelli said evenly. “It seems, your Mark is attempting to find an even ground from which to defend himself.”

Mark smiled at him and said, “I know not to argue with an attorney, Mr. Borelli, and I won’t.”

“Call me Barry; we’re at a social gathering, we’re all civilized here, Mark. He glanced at his wife who flushed, and that surprised Mark.

Choosing her words carefully, Scotia said, “Yes, I selected his partner as my lover.”

“She thought it would be a kind of revenge fuck, only it wasn’t, was it dear?” Borelli didn’t wait for his wife to respond, but plunged ahead, saying: “Newlin, you’ve known Scotia about a month now. I knew she was pretty wild when we first met, it was one of the things I found so attractive about her. Then there was her great beauty and the fact that she seemed to like me. I still find it hard to believe we ended up together to tell the truth. But I love her very much and don’t want to lose her. I’m confident she feels the same. The problem is that after ten years we have a pretty vanilla sex life.”

“No, you have a vanilla sex life, Barry, not me,” Scotia said her voice filled with scorn.

“Yeah ... well that’s neither here nor there. What I’m getting at is she’s got a kinky side. For example, our wedding night...”

“You’re not rehashing that again are you, Barry?”

“He should hear this, Scotia.”

“Oh go on, get it off your chest if you must. Mark this is all ancient history,” Scotia said.

“I don’t think I need to tell you how beautiful she was that night. She’s still as beautiful as ever,” Borelli paused as he looked at her, and then continued. “By the time the reception was over I was crazy with wanting her. We had never consummated the act you see. Seven months I’d courted her and nary a look at her nude body. Hard to believe isn’t it? Especially in view of...”

“Let it be, Barry!” Scotia snapped.

Mark could only nod. He believed him. Seven months of dating and not seeing her nude ... well there must have been a reason, but what was it?

Borelli sighed and continued. “Somehow, we made it to our hotel room. I carried her across the threshold and placed her on the bed then fell upon her and covered her face with kisses. But when I began to unbutton the wedding dress she stopped me.

“No, please,” she said, “I want to undress you first. You’ll probably never see me in my wedding dress again ... I want it to be a sight you’ll remember forever!”

“I caved; let her take my shirt off, only to have her torment me further by scratching my chest and nipples with her fingernails of one hand and rubbing my hardon with the other. Eventually, and I mean it took her quite a while to get to this point, she knelt at the side of the bed still fully dressed and pulled the veil over her face giving her an angelic look. Only then did she free my cock from its confining underwear.”

Borelli looked at Mark as he uttered his next words. “She used both hands to hold it. I’m not small by any means, Newlin. Then she began kissing and licking it through the veil. I’d had a few blowjobs before that, but they paled at this ... this rendering.”

Mark’s throat had gone dry and he took a gulp of his scotch, as he tried to recall the last time he’d been this horny. He glanced around the room. There must have been thirty or forty people talking and laughing. A strikingly good looking young woman was getting ready to play the piano, and a petite blonde was touching a man Mark knew to be a judge on his inner thigh, not caring if anyone noticed.

Borelli’s voice reached Mark’s ears again: “ ... finally Scotia raised the veil slightly and pulled it

over my cock and drew me into her mouth. I can see the bulge in your slacks so I won’t belabor the point. I came in a fusillade that covered more than half her face. The veil itself was soaked with my seed, and she began to laugh, not at me, per se, but at the amount of cum I’d released, finally saying, ‘If I’d known there was that much stored up in those little ball sacs I’d have done that a lot sooner, Darling.’”

“Is this sordid story going to end soon, Borelli?”

Borelli laughed and pointed a finger at Mark. “She wasn’t finished playing with me, Newlin. While I lay there panting, she peeled off those silken panties and hiked the wedding dress up around her waist then lowered herself down onto me. She was so fucking wet I slid right in.”

Mark knew that feeling well enough. Scotia was a very excitable woman. He closed his eyes and listened to Borelli finish his tale of their wedding night.

“I was positive I’d lose it in seconds after her velvet sheath closed around me. But I didn’t. She knew enough to grasp my dick around the base and that held me off for a while longer. I watched Scotia in that white wedding dress, bouncing up and down on me. She told me later she’d cum a half dozen times before I finally exploded into her.”

Mark stared at Barry his mouth slightly agape, Scotia tried to act nonchalant about her husband’s tale of their wedding night.

“What I’m getting at is Scotia’s got this kinky side. At least she’s told me about some kinky escapades and if I’m to believe them I know that it won’t be long before she meets someone who will hurt her. Seriously hurt her. I don’t want that happening, Newlin.”

Borelli’s eyes reflected the sadness inside him and his body language the determination to crush anyone actually hurting his wife.

Scotia stood up and raised her voice. “I like being hurt, Barry. That’s the whole fucking point. Why can’t you get that through your head?”

Barry had used this argument before with favorable results for him, not Scotia. His prominent

position as City Councilman had that effect on most men.

Mark placed his crystal glass carefully on the coffee table in front of his knees and said, “For

crying out loud, Barry, you know all about Scotia’s affairs. As far as I can tell she’s told you all about them. Probably more than you want to hear; but she’s never tried to deceive you. She needs ... no, she wants more out of her sex life than you provide. As I understand it, and please correct me if I’m wrong, she’s talked this over with you before actually doing something about it. You didn’t object. And now I’m what...”

He turned to face Scotia, “ ... number three or four?”

“Seven,” Scotia replied, looking down at her shoes, unable to meet his eyes.

“Seven,” Mark repeated and gave her a look that frightened her.

“Mark, please!” Scotia cried out thinking he was about to leave.

“Shut up, Scotia, if I want to hear from you I’ll ask you a question,” Mark snarled, really angry at Borelli but lashing out at his wife.

Scotia’s hand went to her mouth in stunned surprise, and felt a sudden thrill permeate her loins.

Barry’s jaw dropped. His gambit at forcing Mark out of their lives wasn’t working. He quickly attempted another avenue of persuasion, saying: “If ... if you stay with her, she ... she’ll ruin your life. It’s happened before.”

“That’s a lie!” Scotia said calmly as she watched the two men sparing over her and climaxed.

“I have some kinkiness, too Borelli. I don’t mind playing dominant roles. I don’t want to take your wife away from you. But she wants to play and I’m willing to play with her. What you do about it, well I can’t stop you from filing for divorce, or trying to hurt me by voiding any city contracts I may enter into.

He paused and took a sip of his scotch.

“I haven’t said anything to Scotia about this---I’d rather it be you I talk too. But she’s going to find someone to quench her desires and it might as well be me. I don’t have any STD’s, I’m not a married man, I have decided to settle here in town and I’m not going to take her away from you. That’s not to say she won’t leave you at some point; but I can promise you I won’t be telling her to do it. I’m not marrying her. She’s not what I’d consider marital worthy.”

“So you just want to fuck her?” Barry sputtered.

“We’ll entertain each other for a time, and eventually she’ll tire of me and move on to someone else. The key thing is Scotia will probably remain married to you if you’ll have her.”

The pianist began to play Somewhere Over the Rainbow. The judge took the petite blonde around the waist and they began to dance, closely. In other words, life went on around them as Borelli pondered Mark’s words.

Ever the politician, Borelli saw it as a logical and solidly potential solution, although not one he preferred. Again, politically it was viable, he wasn’t getting what he wanted, but he wasn’t going to lose his wife either.

“Look, Barry, I realize this whole thing is a tremendous blow to your ego. Yet you went ahead

with several affairs, possibly before Scotia began fooling around. You have the best of both worlds open to you; allowing Scotia to find sexual satisfaction with other men while you can continue with your affairs. Maybe it would just be sex for you. But for your wife it would be a means to satisfying her needs. And it’s you that she’ll be coming home too, not that other guy.”

Barry threw his hands up in a sign of surrender. Scotia’s face lit up as a huge smile appeared.

“Do you really think this is the only way, Scotia?”

His wife nodded affirmatively.

Barry nodded as well, adding, “Well, Scotia knows you and she likes you. I know she’s going to find an outlet for her desires one way or the other. I don’t believe she wants out of our marriage, just an outlet for something I can’t give her. I think if she spends the occasional night with you I don’t lose her. So I concur as well. I will stand down. Scotia, do what you want.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mark said, “I’ve got to see a man about a horse,” and he left to relieve himself in the nearest bathroom.

Scotia was elated. She had won, and so easily it had hardly been a battle at all. She calmly told her husband she planned on spending the night with her lover and would return home the following afternoon. Barry sighed and left the room to go outside and have a cigarette.

Mark encountered his neighbors, Jon and Mary Kaye Huntsman standing near the piano player listening and trying to sing along with her playing.

Mark was approaching them when he realized the woman playing piano was gorgeous and stood there staring at her completely enthralled.

“Getting an eyeful?” A baritone voice boomed from behind him.

Mark turned and saw Keith McDaniel, a friend, realtor and business acquaintance. Forcing himself to look away from the dark-haired vision, Mark turned to him and said, “Hey, Keith, who’s the girl playing piano?”

“You mean the frumpy one with the mousy hair and wide ass? I can get you her number if you like.”

“Fuck you, Keith. You know who I’m talking about.”

“Yeah I do, but I also see who is walking toward her carrying two drinks.”

Mark saw a tall, well-built man walk over and place one of the drinks on the piano and receive a glowing smile from the gorgeous brunette. Mark figured they were definitely a couple and he abandoned any thoughts of talking to her as a waste of time and moved on to greet the Huntsman’s.

Keith laughed and called after him, “Are you sure you don’t want the frumpy one’s number?”

“No Keith, but I wouldn’t mind getting to know the gorgeous brunette playing piano, but it seems she’s spoken for.”

“I don’t think so. Her name’s Marcie Dolan and she plays most nights at Coyne’s Steakhouse, you know over by Bednarik Crossing.”

“No kidding? I’ll have to check her out.”

“Yeah, well good luck buddy. She’s a good looking babe. Probably has to fight the guys off every night.”

“I doubt it, Keith. Coyne’s is a dinner date kind of place. Guys don’t hit on the piano player when they’re with a date that might be their wife, or maybe mistress you know?”

“You may have something there, Mark. Maybe I’ll drop in there one night myself.”

“I’ll probably see you there then,” Mark said good-naturedly as he turned to see if Scotia was still with her husband. Barry wasn’t there but Scotia gave him a little wave that told him to approach her and he did.

“Barry’s met some young thing looking to improve her position in life. He’s sure he can do that by positioning her under him in one of the bedrooms upstairs.” She followed that with a husky, sexual laugh and touched his chest with her right hand. “He didn’t take long to show his interest in me isn’t all that great, did he?”

A waiter was about to pass by and Scotia stopped him to ask for a Chivas on the rocks, surprising Mark as he’d only known her to drink wine, although he hadn’t spent all that much time with her other than fucking her.

Once the scotch had been delivered she didn’t hesitate, but started right in “Mark, I love Barry a

lot. I don’t want to leave him or lose him. But...” she hesitated, took a drink of her scotch before going on. “He’s given us the green light. He now thinks it will save the marriage. I could have told him that, in fact I had, but he needed to hear you say you weren’t running off with me to Majorca or Paris.”

Looking him straight in the eye she continued, “Let me tell you a little about me before I married Barry. I used to be pretty wild. I went with some fairly outrageous guys. You know the ‘bad boy’ type. A couple of them were into some pretty kinky stuff, certainly rough sex. At first I told myself I put up with it because I really liked the guy, even though it was a couple of different guys. I finally had to admit to myself that I liked the sex that way as much as they did.”

She took another drink of scotch and set the glass down. This time she was looking down at the glass, not at me. She spoke softly, “I miss it”.

Mark didn’t speak until she looked up. “Scotia, I’ve been called the ‘bad boy’ type a few times myself. I enjoy some pretty rough stuff too. I can tell you from personal experience that there are plenty of women in the world just like you. It doesn’t make you a bad person in any way. If no one gets hurt and everyone enjoys it, there’s nothing wrong with it. The problem is you have a husband who is never going to give you that.” Mark finally paused.

She smiled at him “You know, for someone who tries to come across as a sexist bastard most of the time, you can be pretty understanding and insightful”.

Mark laughed at that, “Don’t kid yourself, I am a bastard. But that doesn’t make me a bad person.”

They both laughed. Scotia looked away for a moment then said, “But there’s more, Mark.”

“Of course there is,” he replied. “You’re into pain as well. Am I right?”

Her eyes got a little wide for a second. “Yes, how did you... ?”

“They seem to go hand in hand, Scotia.”

Her eyes got glassy and Mark saw that she was extremely aroused thinking about the possibilities. Her nipples had hardened and pointed through her silken dress, and her breath was coming in short little gasps.

“So you’ll play rough with me, baby?” she asked rather furtively.

“Maybe,” was his answer to that, and then he added, “but first you and Barry need to be certain about it. Why not have Barry call me in the morning, I need to talk to him alone.”

“But what about now? I mean, we have tonight ... don’t we?”

“We can start this weekend. Have him call me.”

“Yes Master,” she said with a smirk before turning and walking away from him.

Mark meandered around the room talking to some and mentally kicking himself for not waltzing Scotia home with him and fucking her silly until he realized he was standing next to the piano player, Marcie Dolan.

“Hello,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed your playing tonight.”

“You did? I didn’t think you noticed. You were with the Borelli’s most of the time. Particularly Mrs. Borelli.”

Mark smiled and took a moment before replying. It was as if he understood her and what made her tick. He stared at her and knew where she itched and how she needed to be scratched. And she knew it too. She knew it as soon as she laid eyes on him. “We have a thing going on,” he said as his eyes devoured her body.

“Oh ... like Me and Mrs. Jones?” a blatant referral to an old song about marital infidelity.

He laughed. “Got me. Please don’t spread it around.”

“Mum’s the word,” she laughed with him. “So who are you? I’m Marcie, Marcie Dolan.”

“Mark, Mark Newlin. I’m relatively new in town. I’m an architect. You do play beautifully. I mean it.”

“Thank you, I studied music at college, played with several groups and did some backup playing for what became hit records, but didn’t get any credit for it. It did pay well, but being on the record would have bought me a house, maybe more.”

She took a deep breath, sighed then said, “That’s how it goes. So here I am playing at a party.”

“You met me,” Mark said with a smile.

“I did, didn’t I?” Marcie said and returned the smile.

“This thing is wrapping up. Do you need a ride home?” Mark inquired.

“Aren’t you with that Borelli woman?”

“I sent her home to be with her husband.”

“You’re serious?”

“I am. Mrs. Borelli is somewhat of a project.”

“That’s a very interesting way of framing the fact that you’re fucking her with her husband’s permission.”

“Thank you, and while it may be true I’d appreciate your keeping it to yourself.”

“I’m a woman and you expect that of me?”

“You’re a musician. They know how to keep their mouths shut.”

“Touché,” Marcie said, her respect and liking for him increased ten-fold.

“Not to be redundant, but can I give you a ride home?”

“You’re assuming I don’t have my own car.”

“I am hoping you don’t. You didn’t say so the first time I asked and that told me you might still need a ride. Of course, you might live a block away, but I thought I’d ask again, you know, just in case.”

Marcie laughed and said, “Fine, I can do with a ride. I cabbed here because I was running late. I’m always running late. It’s my trademark. But you’re not coming up. Are we clear on that? Otherwise, I’ll call a cab and resolve everything that way.”

“As long as I get your real phone number, I have no problem with leaving you off at your door and going on my way.”

“Let me pick up my check and I’ll join you by the door.”

Mark drove her home without incident and as she was getting out of his car, she told him that she was off on Wednesday and Sunday nights if he planned on asking her out.

He was impressed by her forthrightness and said, “Let’s plan on Wednesday for starters. A movie and dinner?”

“Dinner and then a movie, sounds nicer,” Marcie replied with a warm smile.

“Dinner and then a movie it is then,” Mark said and let her go without trying to kiss her goodnight.

To her surprise, Aniah was waiting for her in the apartment’s vestibule wearing only a tee shirt. Her pubic hair a neatly trimmed triangle, forced Marcie’s eyes to the glistening droplets of fluid wrought by the girl’s fingering as she waited Marcie’s arrival.

“What the fuck! Aniah, where’s the panties at least? If you’re parents...”

Aniah threw her arms around Marcie and covered her face with sloppy puppy-like kisses. “I’ve missed you so! I thought you’d never come home. Who was that guy? Are you fucking him?”

“He’s just a guy from the party that was going this way and gave me a lift. A needed lift, mind you, and if you were watching you saw he didn’t try to kiss me goodnight ... right? But Aniah, if your mother or god forbid, your father...”

“They’re sound asleep. They won’t wake up. I know them and their habits.” the teen replied somewhat reluctantly wavering only when Marcie took her face in both hands and kissed her solidly on the lips.

“Let’s get inside my apartment and not get caught out here in the vestibule.”

Fifteen minutes later Marcie looked up at Aniah, trailed the fingers of both hands down from Aniah’s breasts and nipples to Aniah’s hips. The younger girl was impaled on a strap-on and rode it with the efficiency of one who had plenty of practice doing so.

“Mmmmm ... I am so close.”

“Aniah ... look at me ... I want to watch your eyes.”

Aniah complied. Her eyes were only half open and unfocused, but a slight smile twitched on her face as she took several small, sharp breaths and then blew them out slowly. Her body froze in its position momentarily and then she sank her full weight onto the dildo and Marcie’s hips.

Marcie smiled and took in the youthful teen’s closed eyes and watched as she absentmindedly played with a hard, distended nipple as the ripples of her orgasm slowly radiating through her belly.

Marcie smiled, and caressing the teen’s belly opined, “It looks like that felt good.”

Aniah gave a short laugh, “Mmmm, yes indeed. Very...” She sucked a breath in and froze again then blew out the breath as she enjoyed an aftershock, “Very nice.”
“Come here.”

Marcie pulled Aniah down on top of her so that they were breast-to-breast and belly-to-belly. They kissed, long and slow. A short time later Aniah sat back up, Marcie leaned forward, trying to follow Aniah’s breasts, kissing as she went. Aniah smiled as she slowly lifted herself off the dildo, the dildo making a wet sucking noise as it came out, and dropped down beside Marcie’ body. Aniah slid up against her partner putting her above Marcie’s head but with her breasts right at the level of Marcie’s mouth, then cradled her head against them while pressing her mons into Marcie’s hip using her thigh as leverage.

They didn’t speak. This was unusual for them after their usual slow and gentle lovemaking. Marcie was occupied as she suckled Aniah’s large areolas and stiff nipples. She stopped occasionally to lightly lick sweat from between Aniah’s breasts. Aniah pressed her cheek down on Marcie’ head, her arms loosely around Marcie’ neck and was slowly and gently rubbing against Marcie’ hip. Occasionally she would move her knee and calf and give Marcie a little rub.

Without warning Marcie powered Aniah onto her back and lay on top of her, the top of her thigh firmly planted against Aniah’s sex.

“You want to cum again,” Marcie teased.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” was Aniah’s slow and breathy response.

“Would you let the guy that dropped me off do you?”

“You did it with him before coming home, didn’t you?”

Marcie laughed, “No, I’m teasing you. Would you like to have a guy ... a real man I mean, not a boy fuck you?”

Before Aniah could answer, Marcie, dipped her head back to one of Aniah’s nipples and sucked hard, her teeth dragging as she pulled off.

“Well?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do.”

Marcie laughed, “You are one needy little bitch!”

“No—No, Marcie you scratch all my itches; honest you do!”

“No my petite one. You need to feel a real cock. You’ve fucked some boys, but they were just that---boys. A real man does things with his cock that are impossible to explain other than to say it’s a wonderful, fantastic feeling as you cum feeling their hot sperm splashing inside you. And that’s with or without a rubber, Aniah.”

Marcie slowly pulled on the nipple she had been sucking until Aniah flinched, but she didn’t let go, “It’s so violent; he’s penetrating you, stabbing you with his cock. You can feel it pulsate.” Marcie released the nipple but then quickly and gently bit the edge of Aniah’s areola.

“Ohhhh...”

Marcie took the nipple between her teeth and pulled, and then as she released it she slapped the side of Aniah’s breast. Hard.

“AHHHHH!” Aniah screeched in protest, still feeling the sting, but Marcie scrambled further up her body and took Aniah’s mouth and kissed her roughly.

Aniah started to give her tongue to be sucked but Marcie seized it, sucked it hard and then scraped her teeth over it as she released it.

Marcie was starting to breath hard. “He’s fucking you,” she hissed. “He’s stabbing you. He’s slapping and pulling and rubbing you like you are a piece of meat to be eaten.”

Aniah was sweating and panting now.

Marcie kissed her again. This time the kiss was tender. But then the follow up kiss was as rough as the first one. Marcie rubbed her knee deep and hard into Aniah’s labia and felt the girl’s body seize-up with her orgasm.

Marcie smiled to herself, ignored Aniah’s orgasmic pause and continued her assault. She knew that Aniah was multi-orgasmic---something she always envied her for---and she was determined to drive Aniah insane with lust.

She wanted to be rough with her; choke her, to give her the little death. She wanted to watch and masturbate as some guy fucked Aniah while she was tied up and helpless.

Maybe I’m crazy, Marcie thought. I need to discuss this with the therapist, or at least with Gerry.

Marcie hauled herself a little higher on Aniah’s body so she could reach her ear. Marcie rapidly stuck her tongue in Aniah’s ear, withdrew it followed by a slow, hot breath and then sucked her earlobe and bit it.

“A piece of meat, you cunt. A piece of fuck meat!” She bit the earlobe a second time and Aniah came again.

Marcie slapped Aniah’s labia as hard as she could with the flat of her hand, rapidly dragging a finger up through her slit and flicking her engorged clit.

Aniah screamed. And then she moaned. And despite the stinging pain she came again.

Marcie was back on top of Aniah’s body, one hand tangled in Aniah’s hair, holding her close to Marcie’ face and the other viciously working one of Aniah’s nipples. Marcie was panting in Aniah’s ear, “You feel his hand on your throat ... you want it...”

“YEAH---YEAH!” Aniah screamed into Marcie’s shoulder.

“You getting this girl?” And Marcie again took Aniah’s earlobe.

Aniah was panting too, her body trembling, sweating.

Marcie was driving her crazy. She couldn’t think. Marcie had never, ever been this way in bed with her. All Aniah could do was nod slightly in response to Marcie’ question.

She felt the warmth building in her cunt and wondered, Am I gonna cum again?

Marcie sensed it too: saw Aniah’s eyes rollback and pulled as hard as she could on the nipple she was playing with. “Cum for me, baby, cum for Marcie. Cum now.”

Marcie licked up Aniah’s jaw line and back into her ear. Aniah cried out, her body shook, Marcie continued talking, whispering and hissing; the pace of her words incredibly quick and agonizingly slow by turns. The quality of her whispering intensely antagonistic and forcefully seductive in turn.

“You don’t want me to stop, do you, baby?”
“No, no ... of course not...”

“You’re thinking of that cock, that fat pulsating cock in your cunt ... pushing, pulling ... skin to skin.

So slick ... so fucking hot ... and---and he’s slapping you---choking you---yanking on those sore little nipples and you’re...”

Marcie let the sentence hang in the air and Aniah whimpered.

“Oh ... shush now, baby...” Marcie stroked Aniah’s hair and tenderly kissed Aniah’s neck. “You just want to surrender, you want to give up control, you want the oblivion ... you know it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt ... nothing. And you want it soooo bad.”