They had just passed the Irchel campus of the University of Zürich when Archie leaned over, put his lips very close to Anna’s ear, and in a dirty whisper said, “I want to fuck your mouth.” Anna responded with silence. He waited a beat and then said it again. “When we get to my flat I’m going to fuck your mouth. Do you hear me?” At Milchbuck, two nuns dressed in dark slate skirts and matching mid-length veils boarded the tram and took the seats directly in front of Anna and Archie. Anna reddened underneath her clothes. Archie ignored all lines of decorum. “You like it in the ass? You want me to shove my dick into your ass?” One of the sisters shifted in her seat. Archie snorted. “I’m going to pound your ass with my fat, hard cock.” Anna wondered if the nuns spoke any English.
The closer the tram came to Central, the more explicit the details of their impending fuck became. I’m going to fuck you in the ass. I’m going to stick my finger in your ass. I’ll shove you to the wall, Anna, I swear it. I’m going to bend you over my table and wipe your * with my face. The second nun turned around but looked past them. Archie grinned. Anna couldn’t tell what was getting him off—the dirty talk, the belligerent nature of its script, or the audience of others overhearing them. She didn’t know him well enough even to make a guess.
Archie kept on when they got off the tram. I’m going to lash you to the bed frame. Knot your wrists. Tape your eyes closed. Shove a rag in your mouth. They walked at a clip, Archie steering Anna through the crowd like a husband, his palm at her back on an angle as he guided her from behind. I’m going to suck your clit until it’s plump like a plum, woman. By the time they got to Altstadt whatever he wanted to accomplish began to work. Anna was in on the arousal, her pulse was high, and she was starting to go light-headed, nearly ready to let him do everything he swore he would.
But it was all and only talk. That day’s sex was straightforward, if renegade. By the time they got to his apartment, they were both so flustered that neither bothered to strip out of their shirts—Archie didn’t even remove his jacket. He fell back on the couch and pulled her onto his naked lap. She straddled him and he coaxed her open with his thumbs. Anna was sopping; Archie slid in easily. He grabbed her hips like handles and pistoned her forcibly up and down. She didn’t realize how tightly he’d been holding on until the next day when she was in the shower and saw the little purple bruises where his fingers had dug in.
“You’re hurting me.” It was a statement; she wasn’t protesting. Archie grunted in a way that Anna took to mean he was almost done, which he was. He pulled out so quickly that he nearly shoved her off of him. He came hard, on her belly. There was blood on his cock. A lot of blood, and all of it a shiny shade of red, the color of a stop sign, a flashing hazard light. “Christ!” It was everywhere. On his cock, her thighs, his lap, the couch. It glistened in her pubic hair and rolled past her knee in a line halfway down her calf. “Shit.” The blood shook Archie from his orgasm. They didn’t have a towel so he took off his sock and gave it to her. “I’m sorry,” Anna said, near tears.
Archie laughed lightly as Anna mopped herself. All violence in his voice had been replaced with a jovial, practically chummy friendliness and concern for Anna’s welfare. “No apologies—I’m the one who should be sorry.” He winked. “Didn’t mean to split you open.” He winked again and broke into a rascal smile. It was the wrong wink at the wrong time. Anna’s expression said so. Archie homed in on her distress. “You’re all right, yes?” Anna shook her head yes, sniffling. This had happened before, rough sex jarring the blood and spongy tissue loose at just the right time of her cycle. It wasn’t exactly his fault. The period would have come anyway, but likely not that afternoon and most definitely not on his couch. “No need to be embarrassed.” Archie was trying to be kind. He didn’t need to be. Anna found it condescending. She wasn’t embarrassed at all. Why would he even think that? But she was something. What it was, she couldn’t yet name. She sniffed again and swabbed her thighs with the sock. Archie ticked his head toward the bathroom. “Go take a shower. I’ll make you something to drink. That’s a good girl.”
Anna gathered herself, her clothes, her purse, and fumbled into the bathroom, the sock between her legs and blood now streaking the inside of both thighs. She found a washcloth on the towel rack and a tampon in her purse. She cleaned up quickly, dressed, and told Archie she didn’t have time for a drink. “I have to go,” she said, but she was already almost out the door. She’d left the washcloth and the still-bloody sock in the sink.
“EN GUETE!” BRUNO SAID before the first bite was taken. Mary asked him what that meant and Bruno explained it was Swiss for “bon appétit.” Mary was an excellent chef and her dinner was well received by all. The conversation remained friendly and upbeat. Tim mentioned to Mary that Bruno had given him investment advice.
“Oh, good!” Mary’s voice rang sincere.
Bruno smiled deferentially. “This is what I do. It is my job. I am glad to help.”