7. [Chapter Seven: Angry Sex 2.0]
But I know we won't die. The Grim Reaper on this highway is Lawrence.
Because Lawrence forcefully subjected me to "exposure therapy," I've become much bolder than before. Perhaps I should have been more patient with Dr. Orwell, but in any case, Lawrence is more effective. At least before, I would never have done something as crazy as "a driver driving, someone being dragged in the back of the car, and me being raped by the driver." Either I'm insane, or everyone is insane, and the world is doomed, Boom!
"Pay attention, or would you rather do it from behind?" Lawrence honked his horn indiscriminately, trying to scare me, and then dangerously overtook the car in front of us, completely inconsiderate. It was dark, and he was driving fast, with sand and stones flying everywhere. The cars behind couldn't see what we were towing at all. If they had, they would have been scared half to death and then plunged headfirst into the canyon next to us, either dead or crippled.
Once Lawrence gets going, he's completely irrational. The mountain road was so narrow that even passing another car was a luxury; driving normally was terrifying enough, but he made me sit on him and move myself, as if he wanted us to die a spectacular death. I was so scared my legs and back were weak, I couldn't move at all, so Lawrence changed to using only one hand on the steering wheel and the other to hold my buttocks, first lifting me up and then pressing me down hard, forcing my anus to swallow his thick, long thing completely. He went in so deep, it felt like he was touching my soul. I arched my body to escape, but Lawrence said I was blocking his view, and if I didn't want to roll off the cliff with my body attached to me, I had to move myself. I had no choice but to sit down with tears in my eyes, but he still thought I was too slow, so he deliberately veered the car towards the edge of the cliff. I frantically grabbed his shoulders, and as he wished, I masturbated with his penis up and down, until he finally took pity on me and drove properly.
A thousand years ago, dragging a living person to death was a form of torture, a punishment, and a way to settle personal scores. But what about him assaulting me in the car? What did I do to offend him?
“Ray, I’ve noticed that the wider your upper mouth opens, the tighter your lower mouth becomes.” Lawrence gave a strange yet lingering smile. He reveled in my screams and anal penetration, simultaneously torturing my mind and body. Now even his beautiful eyes couldn’t hold my attention; I was only focused on that bottomless abyss, trembling with fear, utterly powerless to resist his insatiable fucking. Lawrence, annoyed that I was distracted by something else, forcefully pulled my chin, turned my face around, and then kissed me fiercely.
He couldn't see the road at all! I struggled and tried to get off him, but he held the back of my head down and sucked on my tongue. I was dizzy from his kisses. He was fucking both my mouths at the same time. The only support for my body was his penis, and the only support for the front wheel of the truck was the sandstone on the edge of the cliff.
I screamed. At the last second, Lawrence slammed on the handbrake, freezing the truck in a near-collapsing moment, its front wheels wedged in a crevice in the rocks. Looking down through the glass, the magnificent Grand Canyon resembled a vast graveyard, burying human arrogance and hubris. My heart pounded. Lawrence buried his ear in my chest, listening to the groans emanating from my body. They were far more pleasing than my screams. Lawrence looked up at me and smiled. I thought desperately, he'd found new amusement. Once it happens, it'll happen again. I couldn't even imagine how thrilling my life would be from now on.
“You’re daydreaming again,” Lawrence said, grabbing my arm and thrusting his powerful hips upwards. With each thrust, I felt an electric shock throughout my body, my waist went limp, and I involuntarily leaned back. Lawrence would immediately pull me back by the wrist and we would start another round of rapid, intense thrusting.
"Have you forgotten what you promised me? As long as I agree to come and work in the front, what will you do?"
I gasped for breath, my mouth agape, feeling like my body was melting. Lawrence leisurely enjoyed watching me go numb from being fucked, then thrust his hips forward again, plunging deep inside me. Each thrust sent me reeling, and I cried out, unable to bear it any longer, "Waaah... I can... I can drive..."
“You still remember? That must have been tough on you,” Lawrence said. If I really couldn’t remember, he had a thousand ways to “help” me recall. He made no attempt to hide his disappointment, but of course, he could use those methods elsewhere. He was a genius at driving me crazy. Lawrence remained in that connected position with me, saying in a matter-of-fact tone, “Alright, let’s go.”
I can't believe it. Drive? Are you kidding me? I'm facing away from the steering wheel, my chest pressed against his, his penis still inside me. How am I supposed to drive?
I looked at Lawrence with pleading eyes, only to feel him swell up inside me in horror. He kept thrusting forward, and I frantically shook my head, trying to get him to pull out. But Lawrence suddenly spread my buttocks, thrusting his penis even deeper and more violently, without pause, as rough as squeezing the juice out of a ripe peach. I screamed again, as if my insides had shifted, twisting and struggling desperately, but Lawrence's arms held me down tightly. My legs were bent up to my chest, and Lawrence was enjoying my wide-open anus, even forcing open my colon, shooting large amounts of semen into the depths that he couldn't even dig out.
When he withdrew his penis, my anus was already gaping open, white fluid dripping down my legs, and I didn't even have the strength to swallow. Lawrence licked the saliva off my chin and kissed me stickily for almost three minutes. My tongue was almost numb from being sucked so much. With the last bit of strength, I pushed Lawrence's shoulder and said weakly in a hoarse voice, "I'll... open it..."
If I hadn't said that, he definitely would have taken me to the back of the car and done it a few more times. He really could have ravaged me to death.
“Hmm, okay.” Lawrence moved to the passenger seat, leaving me in the driver's seat. I had no strength left; I slumped over the steering wheel, panting for a while, before finally managing to sit up straight, my hands trembling as I turned the key to start the engine. The truck roared and shook against the cliff edge, teetering on the edge once more. I panicked, fumbling around, while Lawrence calmly propped his head up, watching me with a lazy smile, as if he were still savoring the sex they'd just had, as if the truck plunging into the Grand Canyon with us both in it had nothing to do with him. He was a true outlaw; I wasn't.
"What are you afraid of? Just reverse. Are you worried about killing someone?" Lawrence lazily stroked my bare thigh, like a not-so-hungry lion still persistently licking the neck of an antelope. "Well, she should be dead by now anyway. Just reverse."
Thanks to Lawrence's reckless driving, the car was tilted to an extreme angle; the rear end was just a hair's breadth away from crashing into the rocks. I gritted my teeth, pulled the handbrake, shifted the lever to reverse, and carefully adjusted the car's angle, backing it up a couple of times and then moving it forward a little, slowly managing to get the front wheels out of the crevice. Lawrence gave a flippant whistle, "Not bad."
My face flushed crimson, as if I were evaporating. This was the first time Lawrence had praised me for something I had done; though it was very informal, I could take it as a form of recognition.
But Lawrence is Lawrence, after all. One moment he's all smiles and gentle breezes, the next he's a raging storm. His patience had been completely worn down by my shaky, labored maneuvering. Suddenly, Lawrence leaned in, grabbed my hand, gripped the steering wheel, pressed his hot chest against my back, and slammed me forward. Caught off guard, my foot slipped onto the accelerator. He pressed down hard on my thigh, and the truck's rear wheels spun several times in the sand before it accelerated forward with a sudden burst of speed.
The mountain road was so rugged that I was terrified and couldn't control the steering wheel at all, screaming at the top of my lungs. Lawrence, holding my hand, perfectly adjusted the steering wheel, his face filled with the excitement and frenzy of pushing the limits. The louder I screamed, the louder he laughed. The more he adjusted the steering wheel, the harder he made me press the accelerator. I don't even remember how we sped out of the valley. By the time my tears had dried, we were soaring into the air in a cloud of dust, my buttocks even leaving the seat. The feeling was countless times more thrilling than a roller coaster; it was a real leap that risked my life.
But I know we won't die. The Grim Reaper on this highway is Lawrence.
"If you want to fly, don't look down, and definitely don't look back. That will only make you cry," Death whispered in my ear.
I instinctively obeyed his command. The wheels hit the ground heavily, and my heart pounded in my chest. The truck resumed its smooth journey, but I suddenly felt a void. I think I've come to love that feeling of fighting to the death.
I looked into Lawrence's eyes, those deep blue eyes were breathtakingly beautiful, and I was completely mesmerized.
“Caesar,” I said, “let’s be together.”
A note from the author:
I think the first translator who translated "I'm enchanted" as "我魂不守舍" was a genius, just like the first poet who compared a beautiful woman to a rose.
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