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The “I” in “Lie”

Posted on February 7, 2012 by Philip

Marco wasn’t the type of guy to fall in love.  He didn’t understand the lovey-dovey couples he saw making out in the park; didn’t get the poems overflowing with romantic emotion and despair.  There was too much drama involved in romantic relationships; not enough individuality between those that called themselves lovers.  They sponged off of each other.  They made themselves into different people.  Marco would never be anything other than himself.  Not for anyone.

Marco’s best friend was a guy by the name of Rick.  Unlike Marco, Rick had a girlfriend that he was hopelessly in love with.  When Marco hung out with Rick, they did guy things and shot the shit, and that’s exactly how Marco liked it.  But when Marco hung out with Rick and his girlfriend, Lisa, the air was different.  There was a tinge of red around them; an aura of passion and love and lust.

Marco couldn’t blame Rick for being with Lisa.  If you were going to be in a relationship, Marco figured it might as well be with a gorgeous girl, and that’s exactly what Lisa was.  Beauty is such a subjective thing, and though Rick or Marco or any other guy with their tastes in the feminine form could go on and on about what made Lisa physically appealing, what Marco found so inspiring about Lisa wasn’t her long, slightly tanned legs or the curvy lines he could trace up and down the sides of her figure; not her naturally dirty blonde hair or hauntingly beautiful gray eyes; instead, it was the grace that emanated from her, the fluidity with which she moved.  When she entered a room, her presence permeated the air; saturated the atmosphere, made you aware that she was something special.

When Lisa turned her head and looked at you, her hair would flutter over her shoulders, moving from one side to the other, coming to a rest in exactly the right spot.  Her eyes would find their way to you, and her lips would crinkle up in a smile on just one side.  Even for Marco, this was an incredible thing to behold.  Love, no; but for Lisa, he had an immense lust that was nearly beyond control.

But Lisa was Rick’s girl.  Marco could stare from afar, but anything more would be a betrayal of his best friend and of a beautiful girl.  After all, even if she had feelings for him, even if she would leave Rick to be with him, he would not be able to return anything more than physical desire.

Marco had few issues being around Rick and Lisa together.  This was a constant reminder to him that Lisa was off limits.  But there were times that Lisa needed a ride or was bored, and when Rick wasn’t around, Lisa would turn to Marco for trips to grocery store or the mall.  Lisa had girlfriends she could’ve asked, but she didn’t ask them.  She had family she could’ve asked, but she asked him instead.

“Marco, sorry to bug you, but I’m out of milk.”

How could Marco say no to this?  On a hot summer day, Lisa would surely be dressed provocatively enough to drive his testosterone levels through the roof.  And this was temptation.  Unneeded temptation to betray his best friend.

“Sure thing, be right over.”

Temptation that he should’ve avoided, but didn’t.  It wasn’t Lisa’s fault that she was overflowing with feminine charm; why should she have to pay for his near lack of restraint?  She needed groceries, so Marco would take her.  And they’d be friendly the entire time, and nothing more.

Lisa stepped into the car, and Marco was immediately struck by her, as usual.  She was clothed in a baby doll tee and shorts that accentuated her shapely hips and long, slender legs, but this still belied her charm.

“Hey Marco.  Thanks for this.”

Her voice filled his ears like the wind over a field of grass; peaceful, reserved, underappreciated.  If he closed his eyes, he could picture himself there, alone, keeping the beauty of it all to himself.

“No problem, Lisa.  Any time.”

He meant it, too.  He didn’t want to mean it, but he did.

Their trip to the store was nothing more than quotidian.  Ordinary.  Customary.  He expected it; he had no reason to expect anything else, but somehow, he was always disappointed.  Somehow, he felt as though he and Lisa were standing on a cliff’s edge, waiting to see who would jump first.

“Rick’s got work until 10.”

What did that mean?

“That sucks.”

For Marco.  It only made the temptation greater.

They pulled up at Lisa’s apartment.  Being a gentleman, though not feeling much like one, Marco helped Lisa carry her bags.

“Thanks a lot.”

Marco needed to go.  He really needed to go.

“Always a pleasure to help a beautiful woman in distress.”

Shit, why did he always come off so flirtatious by nature?

Lisa giggled and cast a smile at him.

“You wanna hang out for a while?  I’ve got nothing to do.”

Oh no.  Marco knew he had to decline.  That was the only option.

“Sure.”

The dissonance between his head and his mouth never ceased to amaze him.  Why had he accepted?

“You want something to drink?”

Her voice was so calm and beautiful, even asking such a mundane question.   How did she make this garden variety offer of hospitality so alluring?

“Sure, but I can get it myself.”

Marco was already sitting down, though, so Lisa ignored him and made her way to the kitchen.  He watched her walk; admired the way her arms swayed about her sides in such a pliant, yet purposeful manner.  It was as if they were going somewhere, without going anywhere at all.

Lisa opened a cabinet and reached up for a cup.  Marco watched out of the corner of his eye as her tee shirt lifted up and exposed her bare midriff.  It was lightly tanned like the rest of her body; smooth and flat like he’d imagined.

His lust was fiery and intense.  Its flames licked up at his heels as his body grew warmer from excitement and nervousness.  This couldn’t end well.  He needed to go.  Now.

“Here.”

Lisa handed him a cold glass of water, and after a few sips, he cooled down a bit.

“Thank you.”

Maybe he could handle it after all.  Maybe.

“It’s the least I could do for all the times you jump at my beck and call for trips to the store or whatever else I need.”

A glass of water was the very least of what he got out of helping Lisa.

“That’s what friends are for.”

Some friend he was to Rick, though; sitting here in his girlfriend’s apartment, fawning over her.  Lusting after her, barely able to control his libido.

“How good of a friend do you consider Rick?”

Marco was caught off guard.

“He’s my best friend.”

She should’ve known that.

“Well, I guess the question I meant to ask is really how good of a friend are you to Rick?”

Marco froze as Lisa sat down next to him and leaned over just a bit.  His heart pounded out a timpani solo in his chest.

“I…”

The words became cotton in his mouth.

Lisa leaned over a bit more, putting a hand on his leg and making sure that from his angle, he could see down the deep V neck cut of her tee shirt that accentuated her female assets.

“Lisa, what are you-”

She put a finger to his lips, halting not only the words on his tongue, but his very breath.  She lowered the finger.

“I see how you look at me.”

Shit.  Shit.  Shit!

“No, I just-”

Lisa put her finger back on his lips.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

She moved her finger away and crawled onto his lap.  It should’ve been a raw motion fueled by desire, but even this was done with the finesse of a dancer; the carefully refined nature of a master craftsman.  How did she always move like this?  How could she always exceed the grace of even a swan?

“But, Rick…”

Lisa leaned forward, a few strands of hair falling in front of her face.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

She brushed her hair back behind her ear with an elegant gesture of her hand.  Marco couldn’t stand it.  He wanted to cradle her head in his hands, pull her closer; stop the teasing and just get this over with.

“Would you really be unfaithful to Rick for one chance at physical pleasure with me?”

It came out hushed, as if Rick were in the next room.

“Who said anything about frequency?  This could happen once, this could happen many more times after that.”

Marco couldn’t believe it.  This was Lisa?  The Lisa he knew?  If he was in this for the romance, he’d be sorely disappointed, but from his standpoint, the last of his defenses against temptation were quickly being shot down, burned down, knocked over, incinerated.

“I want to; I really want to, but I don’t know if I can live with that on my conscience.”

It was, after all, the only thing holding him back at that point.

Lisa inched forward, her face just inches from Marco’s.  He could see the light makeup on her face and was amazed that she looked like this almost naturally.

Her gray eyes glittered as she grew closer.  One kiss couldn’t hurt, right?  Just a kiss.  Just one.

Their lips locked, eyes closed, warmth spreading across their faces.  It was electric; physical chemistry unlike anything Marco had ever felt.  As their lips parted, he could almost feel a spark between them; a magnetic pull, an aching to guide her lips back to his.

He gently placed his hand behind her ear.

“This is wrong.”

But they kissed again, the spark immediately returning.

There were no fireworks.  Those were for love, and that’s not what this was.  This was electricity; this was fire.  Play with electricity, you get shocked.  Play with fire, you get burned.

“You want this too.  I know you do.  All of those times you’ve given me rides.  You just drop what you’re doing and show up, doing everything you can to stifle your lewd eyes.  But I see you, and I do the same right back to you.  Do you really think I was out of milk today?”

Marco knew what he was doing.  He knew his friendship with Rick would be over if he found out.  He knew it was a stupid risk and a terrible thing to do.

But Lisa was right there in front of him, the most tempting seductress ever put on the face of the planet.  He couldn’t help himself.  This was a carnal desire beyond his control.

Two kisses, three kisses, what was the difference?

Electricity and fire lashed together in the air as they kissed again.  Lisa could practically feel her hair standing on end; Marco could still feel the heat of the flames on his feet.  It didn’t matter, though.  Nothing mattered as they started stripping their clothes off.

That evening Marco and Lisa became slaves to their lust; to the pleasures of the flesh; to a life of lying.  He left at 8, knowing that he could never look Rick in the eyes again.

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