David remained quiet, still rubbing her legs, gazing at her, soaking it all in and letting her expel it all out. After awhile, he said, “So tell me about the fight with your mom.”
Her shoulders immediately tensed up and she forced herself to tell them to relax. This was David. It was okay to tell him about her mother. If he couldn’t deal with it, better to know that now than later.
She craned her neck to both sides and then launched. “My mother sees the world through two lenses: fat women and those who aren’t fat. If you’re a fat woman, in my mother’s worldview, you might as well either consider giving lesbianism a good, hard look or kill yourself because you will never land a quality man, nor succeed in your career, regardless of your chosen career path. And by fat, I mean anything over a size six is critical.”
“What do fat women have to do with you?”
“Everything. Growing up, she was very disciplined about our diet and she drilled it into me. Lean protein and vegetables only. Starches are Satan along with fruit and refined sugar. Chocolate is one of the bigger sins, but then again, any type of sugar, including fruit, is just asking to land on your ass and stay there for awhile.” Repeating the words reminded how out of sync her mother was. And consequently, how out of touch she’d become while listening to her for years. She feared looking at him, concerned he’d decide this was where the fun stopped.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked.
“Please do.”
“With all due respect, your mother sounds like a nut job. Fruit? Really? Anti-fruit? That makes about as much sense as not brushing your teeth because you’re worried the enamel will wear off.”
The breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding released and suddenly, she felt twenty pounds lighter, with only his words to thank.
“I know. Trust me. I know how crazy this must sound. It is what it is and it is how she is.”
“So, the fight was about….” he prompted.
“So, she called me up Saturday to have dinner. I haven’t had much of an opportunity lately to check in with her and I’d been avoiding her calls. I gave in and met her for dinner and she launched into yet her five thousandth diatribe about how fat women are the scum of the earth. To hear Lauren Stuart tell it, they’re responsible for all civil wars, the obesity epidemic in this country, and the failure of our president to achieve world peace.”
“This is her issue, then. Not yours.”
“It’s as much my issue, unfortunately. I can’t magically erase the years and years of her conditioning. If I could, I would, but I think too much is ingrained at this point.”
“What can I do?” he asked, his eyes as tender as his hands.
“I think you’ve done a lot, listening to me tonight without immediately bolting.”
“Why would I bolt?” he asked, his confusion clouding his eyes.
“Umm, I don’t know. Maybe because now you know all about my neuroses. Know about my gene pool. It’s some heavy stuff that would send a lot of guys for the car.”
“I’m not a lot of guys.”
No, he certainly wasn’t. Her year-long crush on the rugged, virile man in front of her, now stroking her calves, had morphed into something much more serious in the last few weeks. Something good that made her feel warm thinking about it even when he wasn’t around. She couldn’t pinpoint the date or the event that transformed her fun and entertaining sex romp into a more serious endeavor.
“I know. Trust me, I know. I’ve never let any man do what you do to me in bed.”
“You love it,” he stated, firm as a nun in catechism class.
She couldn’t and wouldn’t deny it. Not tonight when he made her his first priority upon returning from his trip. Not when she’d shared her troubled and turbulent history with her mother. Not when they were sitting together, on her couch showing each other a lot more than their sex moves.
“I do. And I missed you.”
“Come over here,” he directed, pulling her towards him. She positioned herself with her back to his front as he rested his head on top of hers.
“You want my opinion?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Sure. If you don’t, say so and I’ll begin my imminent seduction.”
“Alright, let’s hear it,” she said as she settled against him. His size made her feel small and feminine. His size and his utter maleness. He radiated testosterone from head to toe.
“There’s nothing about your relationship with your mom that’s irreparably damaged. Everything that’s happened – both things she’s said and done to you and anything you regret on your end – can be repaired,” he declared.
“I don’t want to apologize,” she said despairingly.
“You shouldn’t apologize for something you don’t believe in. It’s insincere and will make you feel like a hypocrite, thereby exacerbating your feelings of frustration and hurt. I’m not hearing you say that you regret what you said, just the way in which you said it.”
She let his sentiment sink in for a minute. “That’s true. I truly believe everything I said to her.”
“Alright. That’s your starting point then. At some point in the future, and it doesn’t need to be this week or next week or even the week after that, but some time you need to call her up and set up a time and place to talk.”
“I’m not sure she’d take my call.”
“You’re still her daughter, Calleigh. She’ll answer her phone when you call and reach out to her. Set up a time for the two you to sit down and for you to express yourself. Tell her that there are certain things, certain opinions she carries, that don’t sit right with you and that bother you and have bothered you for a number of years. She’ll want to mend your rift as much as do. Maybe more. Make it so that there are some topics that are off limit, at least for awhile.”
“Check you out, Mr. Sensitive. Who knew?”
He lightly pinched her. “In my job, you wouldn’t believe the number and types of disputes I have to mediate. Between players and coaches. Players and other players. I’ve developed a lot of what are termed ‘reconciliation techniques’ that are applicable to all relationships.”
“I would never have guessed.”
“Give it a try. Not immediately or too soon cause you’re still too raw to face her and set some parameters around your relationship and your interactions. You’ll know when the time’s right.”
She angled her body around so she could study him. His tough jaw jutted out at its traditional arrogant angle. His eyes were like sharp ice bathed in a midnight gloss. His cruel mouth that delighted and tormented her was relaxed.
“I think that’s…actually some pretty good advice, Shalvington.”
“Good. Then you’re going to owe me,” he darkly promised while delivering a smoldering look.
“I always pay my debts,” she said, her body heating up at the thought of how she could pay him back. On her back, legs spread, at his mercy to do with as he wished. Oh yeah. Not a bad way to satisfy her debt.
Taking her head in his wide hands, he tilted it slightly before he began kissing her. He didn’t start with her lips. Rather, her eyelids felt the softest caress of his lips, butterfly light and quick on each side before he moved on to her nose. Gently, he started playing Eskimo with her, rubbing his nose across hers in the timeless ritual she’d learned as a child as to how Eskimos kissed each other. The sweetness of the contact and his patience unraveled any last remaining hesitation perched in the deepest recesses of her heart and mind and blew them out of the universe. How could she not want to be with this man and build something for the future when he was like this? Patient and loving and understanding. The arrogant son of a gun had turned out to be one of the best listeners and friends she’d ever had. Not blowing her off about her fight with her mother or telling her to simply get over it. Or ignore it, as men were want to do. Smart and insightful. All wrapped up in an insanely hot package.
“Calleigh,” he murmured.
“Hmmmm,” she responded.
“I brought the handcuffs.”
§ § §
The following Sunday, a startling sensation notified Calleigh that it was, indeed, the morning, and a handsome, demanding man was trying to wake up in her in a
tried and true way.
“Mornin’ sunshine,” David stated, trailing his lips over the small of her bare back while his broad hands stroked her stomach and long legs, eliciting an entirely different round of sensations.
“Morning,” she said, a yawn sneaking through her words as she rolled over to look into his eyes. She wanted them to be the first thing her eyes noticed when she woke up. His eyes had softened in the last few days, both in and outside the bedroom. Last night, they’d gone for a long, leisurely dinner at Equinox where they exchanged stories of their pasts, both significant and small, before retreating back to her loft and engaging in several long, sweaty bouts of sex. David used several accoutrements that were new, but she felt as though she had been reborn with him, willing to do acts, say words, and try new feats she would have assumed were primarily left to the imagination of erotica authors, not real life people. Certainly not real-life high school math teachers.
David showed her differently. He showed her how much she could enjoy prolonging her release, how much a slight amount of pain strategically placed on her body could enhance the pleasure she knew would be hers eventually if she would willingly wait for it, trusting in him that he would always and completely see to her pleasure. He hadn’t suggested anything she’d turned down, not allowing her fear or judgment to interfere with their relationship. He was an inventive and exciting lover, teaching her more about her body than she could ever have learned otherwise.
He looked at her through his tawny lashes, pulling his mouth away from her stomach for a brief minute. “What do you want to do today before the game?” he asked.
She smiled at him and palmed his head in both of her hands. “First, I want you to finish what you’ve started.”
“Works for me,” he murmured and gave her the ride of her life with his tongue. By the time she recovered, she’d organized her thoughts, thoughts that had flown out the window of her brain at the first touch of his hot, wet tongue.
“David?”
“Yes?”
He was laying on his side, stroking her stomach, his erection resting on his stomach.
“You know I love everything we’ve been doing for the last few weeks, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you know I’m completely on board with, you know, being submissive with you, right?”
A hint of wariness crept in his eyes as he continued stroking her and responding to her questions.
“Yes.”
She turned towards him and threw her right leg over his. “This morning, I want to be in charge. I want to be on top. You okay with that?”
She waited for his response, fully aware of the fact her one simple, concise question could unquestionably alter the outcome of their relationship. He continued to stare at her and finally the left side of his mouth turned up as he answered.
“I guess that would be alright,” he responded, pulling her more fully on top of his cock so she was resting right at his sweet spot.
“I’m going to kiss you right now,” she murmured, mimicking his style of always telling her exactly what he was planning to do next while she leaned down to place her lips on his. He grasped her knees on either side of his waist and began stroking their backs while she continued kissing him. Pulling back from his lips and up from his chest, she scooted down and placed his cock right at her entrance and stopped before she could take him inside.
“I’m going to make love to you now, David,” she whispered, her eyes never breaking contact with his as she kneeled above his penis and settled on top for a nice, long ride. She moved up and down, alternating the pace and the penetration in an effort to prolong the act as long as possible until neither of them could bear it any longer. When they both drifted back from their orgasms, she was momentarily embarrassed to find herself draped over his body like a limp noodle and attempted to roll back over to her side of the bed. Before she could do so, he stopped her movement by trapping her with his brawny arms and clasping her ass.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m not exactly a small woman. I ah, thought you’d appreciate it if I moved off you.”
His eyes shone with recognition of a woman’s nerves as he began moving his hands all over her butt and the lower part of her back. If she could, she would have settled in as much as possible into his proud and powerful chest. “Calleigh, you’re perfect. You’re perfect on my chest, like this. I don’t want you to move unless you’re uncomfortable. I love the way you feel right now.”
§ § §
Tender feelings for the woman coursed through him, like a heavy current he couldn’t stop and didn’t want to if he could have. The last few days, hours and minutes spent with Calleigh, in bed and out, had been an eye-opener. Before with his partners, he’d always seen to their needs as a way of satisfying his own desires. With Calleigh, he wanted to pleasure her simply for the sake of pleasing her. Every heavy sigh, every teasing and tender touch, every time her pussy clenched him, gripped him, and refused to let him go, was a loving act, a benediction, in and of itself revealing feelings he never believed himself capable of.
She turned her head on his chest and looked up at him, her green eyes luminous.
“You sure?”
He squeezed the round, perfect globes of her ass in response. “Don’t make me punish you, Calleigh,” he teased, his tone and his touch telegraphing how much he was enjoying having her exactly where she was. She rubbed her nose across his chest.
“What do you want to do?” he asked again. “We could grab some breakfast if you’re hungry. I noticed your refrigerator’s a little barren, otherwise I’d offer to make you breakfast in bed.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
“I’d do a lot of things for you. But seriously? Your kitchen is sad.”
“It’s not sad. It’s lean.”
“It’s not lean, Calleigh. It’s fucking bankrupt. Skim milk, bananas, and granola are not sufficient for a thirty-two year-old woman. Do you eat all your meals out?”
“No.”
“Calleigh, look at me.”
When she did, he continued. “You know, I could strangle your mother for being responsible for your headfuck with food.”