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While Heaven Wept On Angels Singing: Part
2 Their Story, According to David |
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By Margo Perry
(margo707 AT rogers DOT com)
David stared down at the stunning girl perched imperviously on the stool. Her grey eyes, flecked with green, were both feline and shrewd, and they regarded David with a mixture of curiosity, humour and disdain. Of all the call girls in the bar, Gigi seemed the most independent - the pimp patrolling the place hadn‘t once glanced her way - and David found her cocky confidence unsettling.
“What am I looking for exactly?” He repeated her question, begging for time like an empty-headed schoolboy facing an impenetrable question.
“Come now, you approached me. You must know what you want,” Gigi baited.
David had no come back. He watched mesmerized as she crossed her long legs slowly and provocatively and, leaning slightly forward, dared David to ignore the rise and fall of her huge breasts. He’d accepted that she was a call girl, but she projected an easy self assurance that belied the mien of a prostitute; and she looked so young and fresh that his instinct was to protect her as a father would his daughter. But he wasn’t her dad and, unable to resist the pull of her devastatingly alluring body, he was drooling like a dirty old man on the prowl. He ogled helplessly as waves of breast flesh crested and ebbed, stretching the fabric of her black shiny unitard to its very limit. The vision made his forty year old cock hard and him drunk with the memory of stallion days long past. He wanted to be young again, to span her tiny waist with his bare hands, pull her to him and kiss her with the stuff Harlequin covers are made of. He wanted to tease her protruding nipples, caress her smooth skin and work his way down and further down. He wanted to gently open her pussy lips and flick her clit with his tongue, until she begged for release. He wanted to forget the real reason he was here, forget that he had a wife and desperate brother, and make love to her like a reckless adolescent.
“This isn’t about you,” he admonished himself. “Forget your fantasies and stick to the job at hand.”
“All I’m looking for is someone who’ll take real good care of my brother tonight. Like I told you, he’s been cloistered in a seminary for years and he needs to remember what the outside, especially being with women, is all about. He’s twenty-eight years old and he’s been laid once in his life, back in high school. Now, can you help us and how much will it cost?” David spoke with all the authority he could muster.
“First, I need to talk to your brother. What’s his name?”
“His name is Bruce,” David said.
“Well let’s see if Bruce and I are a fit, shall we?”
And off she went.
A picky prostitute. Great!
David ogled the sensual lilt of Gigi’s hips as she walked over to where Bruce was waiting anxiously. She had the long and graceful neck of a swan and looked so enticing, so beautiful that a lump formed in his throat. He didn’t quite understand why he was so emotional, but it had to do with two issues. One was the way she was making him feel sexual stirrings that he’d long forgotten. He felt restored, young again. Second was the sad fact that she was somebody’s daughter and that thought sent a shiver down his spine. He didn’t have kids, but he could only imagine how he’d feel if a daughter had chosen this profession.
He watched Gigi shake Bruce’s hand and it seemed a ridiculously conventional ritual under the circumstances. Even more surprising was the speed with which they seemed to be completely lost in conversation, head to beautiful young head. David felt suddenly lonely. How long had it been since he and his wife, Lucy, had talked? Really talked. He remembered when, having spent all day together in school, he’d hijack his parents phone and they’d talk the night away. What had happened to them?
“I think I need a drink.”
He signaled the barman.
“What can I do you for?” Jake asked.
“I think I’ll have a Scotch. On the rocks.”
“Coming right up.”
As Jake poured the drink, David turned his attention back to the kids. They were still talking. With any luck, he thought wryly, Bruce was convincing her to join him in a life of spiritual contemplation. David felt suddenly weary and his back ached. Only yesterday, he’d finished constructing the last of a series of very exclusive condo developments. They spanned the country and David could finally consider himself an independently wealthy man, which is what he had to be to support the indulgences of his wife, his parents and now, his brother. He didn’t mind; that had become his job when he voluntarily took over the family business. But he’d been looking forward to a couple of days south with his wife, lying on the beach, getting hot, retreating to their air conditioned room to do what they hadn‘t been doing at all lately. Bruce’s call had cancelled their plans and what bothered David most was that his wife had been almost too understanding. She said that she was anxious to get on with renovating their bedroom, but he didn’t believe her. Something was draining out of their marriage. Something vital like gasoline dripping from a car already launched on a long, long journey and it worried him. It worried him a lot.
“Here you go,” Jake said, setting his glass in front of him.
“Thanks,” David said. “By the way, what can you tell me about Gigi? I’ve just hooked her up with my brother and he’s none too savvy.”
“I pretty much know all the girls here. Don’t know no Gigi.”
“She’s over in the booth talking to my brother. There!” David nodded toward the booth.
“You mean Tara? The dancer there? What do you mean you’ve hooked her up?”
“I thought she was a call girl. I mean she said . . .”
“No, no, no, no, no. That girl’s one of the best dancers on Theatre Row. She is not, nor will she ever be a pro. Over my dead body,” Jake snorted. He stared over at the booth. “I wonder what she’s up to?”
“I don’t care what she’s up to. All I care about is my brother.”
“And I don’t give a rat’s ass about you or your brother. All I care about is Tara. You tell her that I want a word before she goes anywhere with either of you all.”
“No problem, but I’d sure like to know what’s going on here.”
“What’s going on is that girl’s pulled a fast one over on you and she’s probably telling your brother all about it. You’re the only dude on Planet Earth naïve enough to believe her crap about being a prostitute. Look around you at the real thing,” Jake laughed, “and vive la différence!” He poured himself a shot of Scotch and topped up David’s glass.
“Thanks,“ David said, sipping his drink.
He didn’t know what he felt about the information he’d been given. She was still the most exquisite woman he’d seen in years and she was certainly clicking with Bruce. But he suddenly felt on the outside of something. Bruce hadn’t even glanced his way since Gigi, or Tara, or whatever her name was had sat down beside him. They looked so intense. He again thought of Lucy and couldn’t remember the last time the two of them had gone out for a drink. When had they stopped being spontaneous? When had they stopped having fun? It occurred to him that his brother wasn’t the only one in crisis.
“Here she comes,” Jake said, looking at the approaching Tara and hovering shamelessly like a mother hen.
“I’m sorry, David,” she apologized immediately. “I’m not a call girl and I deeply regret letting on that I was. I’m Tara,” she said, extending her hand.
David took her slender, long-fingered hand. It was warm and soft. They looked into each other’s eyes and something sweet and reassuring passed between them. “That’s okay,” he said. “Seems like you and Bruce are getting on all right.”
“Like a house on fire. He’s really a great guy. We’ve made plans. We’ll share them with you over dinner.”
“I’m all ears,” David said. “Where would you like to eat?”
“Right here,” Jake roared. “You just get over to that booth and I‘ll take care of the rest. Take your drink, buddy,” he said to David, topping it up yet again.
“Tara . . . That’s a pretty name,” David said, climbing down from the stool.
Tara took his hand. “Come,” she said.
As they walked hand in hand, squeezing awkwardly between the closely spaced chairs and tables, David found himself smiling. She was beauty. He was the beast. And for a few private moments, he dreamed of their union. Bruce stood as they approached the booth and the smile that passed between him and Tara recast David as third man out. He was jealous, as he had been so many times, of his baby brother who had always been the jewel set firmly, front and center, in the family crown. And no matter how much he wanted to be the shining one, he simply wasn’t and never would be.
“David, I’ll never be able to thank you enough. Landing here, after the seminary . . . . I’d have been completely lost without you,” Bruce said.
“And naked,” Tara added, smoothing the soft material of the tailored suit David had gifted his brother.
David looked into Bruce’s blushing face and the guilt that always accompanied his envy rained down on him. Bruce was too honest, sweet and appreciative to be in any way at fault for the jealousy David felt. What he was jealous of was a light that seemed to shine from within his brother, a light that drew people to him and inspired their devotion. But he loved his brother like no other and would protect him with his very own life.
“I thought we’d go to my place after dinner,” Tara said.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” David said, defensively. “I mean, we’ve only just met and I don’t know about my brother’s going off alone with somebody who . . .”
“Before you put your foot in your mouth,” Tara cut him off, “the ‘we’ I referred to includes you. Your brother needs to talk and I just thought it would be quieter and more private at my place. You’re not getting out of this. He needs both of us.”
“Oh,” David said, mortified at how happy he was to be included. “That sounds like a plan!”
“Let’s have a toast,” Tara said. “Oops, guess I need a drink first.”
“I’ll
get you one,”
Bruce said, bounding up. “No, I’ll get one. I work here, remember?” Tara moved past Bruce. “Sit,” she said. “Enjoy your beer.“
David watched her move away, beyond earshot. “Looks like you’re getting on okay. What have you been talking about?”
“She understands,” Bruce babbled enthusiastically. “She says it’s all about choices. Finding out what I really want and accepting it. She says there’s no right or wrong answers. I just have to discover where I fit. Where I can live an honest life. There is nothing wrong with loving women and large breasts or with downloading their videos. What’s wrong is pretending not to, being dishonest.”
David sipped his Scotch. Bruce looked like he’d been infused with new life. His eyes shone and his smile quivered with emotion. “That’s fine and I don’t want to rain on your parade, but remember why we’re here. You need to get laid and she’s not a prostitute. What are we going to do about that? This bar is full of them. Maybe we should have a quick dinner and make another choice.”
“Choice about what?” Tara was back with a glass of red wine and Jake, with his platter of good eats: steaks, fries, garlic bread and salad. “Thanks a bunch, Jake,” Tara said, as he placed the feast in front of them.
“You’re welcome. And don’t forget what I told you.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Tara said. “I’ll even call you later.”
“See that you do,” Jake instructed, as he headed back to the bar.
“He’s worried about me taking you two home, but I told him that he has nothing to worry about. Now, what choice do you two have to make?”
“No choice,“ Bruce said, adamantly. “David, I’m just not interested in, you know . . .”
“Getting laid,” Tara finished for him. “We talked about that,” Tara directed her words to David. “It’s not about getting laid. Bruce has masturbated to those videos of his and he has had wet dreams. It’s more about his love, maybe his obsession with large breasts. How important are they in his life? If they are important, how will he fulfill their demands without guilt and with pride and pleasure.”
“Those are just words,” David said, a little too loudly. “Practically speaking, he needs to get laid and if it’s not going to be you it should be somebody else.”
David felt angry. He was competing with this stranger for his brother’s respect and he didn’t like it one little bit. He knew what was good for Bruce. He needed to get fucked and that was that.
“It’s not going to be anybody else,” Bruce said. “I’m where and with whom I want to be.”
“Where and with whom,” Tara laughed. “You have been in the seminary much too long.” She shifted her body and her full attention toward David. Her breasts were calling out to him again and feelings of lust completely eclipsed his anger. “Our work is cut out,” she said, raising her glass to David. “We have to first bring him into the present century.” They clinked, shaking their heads in mock distress. David felt good. He felt special and wondered about the feelings this girl was stirring deep inside him. “Let’s eat. We’ll need our energy!”
None of them realized how hungry they were and they ate with relish. Tara told them about Jake and how famous his spot was because of the food, the friends and the caring. She talked about dancing, how much she loved it and the choice she was facing: breast reduction or job loss. Jake brought over a bottle of wine and they ate and drank some more.
“I can understand the job and what it means to you, but it would be absolutely sacrilegious to do anything but worship your magnificent mammaries,” David said.
Tara laughed. “Why thank you, sir, I’m partial to them myself. I have until Monday to decide, so let‘s talk about you. Bruce tells me you’re married and something of a business whiz. He’s very proud of you. Are you happy?”
“Most of the time,” David answered.
“Most of the time is good, but what I’m really asking is whether your job is truly what you’d choose to do every day? Whether your wife is the person you’d choose again every day?”
David drained his glass. Anxiety had crept between his shoulder blades and seemed to interrupt the steady flow of blood to his heart. He felt uncomfortable, un-well.
“What’s wrong, David? You look pale,” Bruce asked.
“It’s just that I haven’t asked myself those kinds of questions for a very long time, if ever. Okay, I know I love my job. I used to follow Dad around as a kid. I loved the activity on the sites, loved to see all that steel and cement forming out of the ground and I couldn‘t wait to finish high school and earn my hard hat. The more I learned, the happier I got and I begged dad to retire and give me my shot. I love building. I love my job,” he said, and then fell silent.
“So that leaves your marriage. Any kids?” Tara asked.
“No, Lucy hasn’t ever been ready and I doubt that she’ll ever be. She’s thirty-seven now.”
“How do you feel about that?” Tara persisted.
“Actually, I always imagined them.”
“Imagining won’t help,“ Tara said. “Have you even told Lucy that you want a family? What about adopting?”
“We’ve never discussed adoption,” David said, thoughtfully.
“You see what I mean,” Tara said to Bruce. “You’ve both made choices without considering what those choices mean. You drifted into a celibate life without considering the forces that might propel you in another direction. And it sounds like you, David, have drifted into marriage without even discussing whether you both want a family. We all need sorting,” she said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’ll get the check,” David said, raising his hand to attract a waiter’s attention.
“No, no! This one’s on me,” Jake roared, appearing suddenly out of nowhere. “How was the food?”
“It was wonderful! The best steak I’ve ever had. Thanks so much.” They were all talking at once.
“You take care of my girl,” he warned the boys. “Don’t make me come after you.”
“We’ll take good care of her,” David said. “You have my word.”
“Good! You all have a good evening now.”
“Will do. Ready to go?” Tara asked.
The trio wound themselves out of the booth and headed for the exit. All eyes were on them: two men tailored within an inch of their lives and one dancing girl.
“I wonder if it’s still raining?” Tara said, as they pulled on their coats. “Bye, Jake, I’ll call you later,” she shouted over the crowd.
Jake waved back and they stepped out into the night. It was still raining lightly.
Love is funny, or it's
sad,
They were still huddled in the alley, where a small crowd had gathered. Six voices, six intricate harmonies, sang out the bittersweet song. Their faces were a kaleidoscope of browns and whites and blacks under their uniform hooded bright yellow rain slickers. Tara, Bruce and David listened before hailing a cab and piling into it.
“What beautiful sounds those kids make,” Bruce said.
“They’re in that alley every year commemorating the anniversary of Nat King Cole’s death,” Tara said. “I think they’ve arranged every song he ever recorded.”
David sat in the front seat, the song still playing in his head. “That’s how I want to feel about Lucy and me,” he mused, “like it was in the beginning . . . Beautiful!” But he couldn’t feel it. He suspected that both his and Lucy’s emotions were locked behind a mutually constructed wall of indifference and he was deathly afraid that they’d never be able to reclaim what they’d lost. He rested his head back against the taxi seat and sighed. He felt old and tired. He could hear conversation coming from the back seat, but the voices seemed far away.
“So what do think? I bet the seminary seems far away,” Tara said.
“Far, far away,” Bruce said. “But I’ve already seen so much. I looked at the faces of those women in the bar, behind their masks of seduction, and all I could see was pain and loneliness. They’re giving so much more than their souls can afford. There’s much to do in this world of ours.”
“You got that right,” Tara encouraged. “And you‘ve only seen the tip of the iceberg. I’m sure the seminary is a wonderful place, but out here everything’s a mess. We need real leadership. You’ll wear yourself out trying to find an honest politician or a doctor who can afford the time to diagnose what’s really wrong with you. Everything’s about selling and competition and nothing is as it seems or as it was meant to be. It’s like the whole world is a reality television show existing for entertainment purposes only and I‘m afraid that by the time we all snap out of it, it’ll be too late.”
“Isn’t that a bit cynical?”
“The real question is, ‘Is it true?’ And I say it is. You‘ll see.”
“I will see,” Bruce said. “I’m already experiencing a deep and growing need to discover this world and to find my place in it.”
David felt like someone had thrown cold water in his face. He twisted around to face Bruce. “You’ve already decided? You’re not going back?”
“No, I’m not going back. The chancellor was right: There are many ways to serve and I have to find my way. It will take some time, but once I’ve absorbed the world around me and take some time for quiet contemplation, I’ll find my place. I’ll have to go up on Monday to say good-bye . . .” Bruce’s voice drifted away.
“We’re here,” Tara said, passing the driver a folded bill. “Keep the change. My treat, boys.”
“Thank you very much, miss,” the cabbie called after her.
Bruce and Tara were already on the sidewalk when David climbed out of the front seat. He was feeling lost again, like that third wheel. Bruce had made his decision. Why were they here?
“Well, you’ve made your decision. Are you ready to head home?”
“Absolutely not! Tara still has a huge problem and I want her to talk about it. If you want to go home to Lucy, I’ll understand,” Bruce said.
“No you don’t, David. No party poopers here. You’re coming up with us,” Tara said, leading the way to her building.
It was quiet all the way up to the fifteenth floor, except for the groan and clang of the ancient lift. “I was lucky to get this place,” she said, unlocking the door to her loft. “I happened to be in class with the owner when she heard she’d gotten a job out of town for at least a year. She needed someone immediately to house sit and there I was.”
The loft was a dream space. A mirrored dance studio stood between a plant filled living room and formal dining area. Colourful carpets, paintings and eclectic furnishings defined rooms and their varying moods. “Make yourselves at home. I need to make a quick phone call. I’ll be right back.”
David was glad to be alone with Bruce. “Tell me, brother, what’s going on it that head of yours? What are we really doing here? You got the hots for Tara?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I like her. I like her a lot. She’s helped me, now I want to help her.”
“I bet you do,” David said. “With a body like that! Can’t say I blame you.”
“You have a one track mind,” Bruce laughed. “Think what you will.”
Tara returned, carrying a bottle of wine and three glasses. She led the way into the living room and made herself comfortable on the couch.
“Bruce says you’ve got a problem. Want to let me in?” David said.
Tara filled the glasses before speaking. “Let’s have a toast first,” she said. “To good decisions.”
“To good decisions,” Bruce and David said.
“I’ve been auditioning for months for this television gig that runs half a season and then goes on tour. It’s great money and work for over a year. I made it through to the end, me and Panther, my partner, and they waited until then to tell me that my tits are too big; that I’ll draw focus. The bottom line is this: I get my breasts reduced or I lose the job.”
“Are they crazy?” David exploded. “Your body is great!”
“That’s what the choreographer thought, but the suits had other ideas. And they have the power. They decide. It gets worse. If I lose the job, so does Panther.”
“That’s really sad, but you can’t alter yourself to please or save another. You must do what’s right for yourself,” Bruce said.
“I know but I want the job and I want my breasts. Both just as they are.”
“What’s most important to you, dancing or dancing in this particular job?” Bruce asked.
“Dancing, of course,” Tara said. “But I can’t just dance around this studio. I need classes and they cost money. Also, I like to eat.”
Tara’s voice broke and all of a sudden David was looking at a frightened and vulnerable child. “I would love to see you dance someday. I bet you’re wonderful,” he said.
“I don’t know about someday, but if you’ll answer one question when I’m done, I’ll dance for you right now.”
“We’ll answer anything you want!” they replied, filled with anticipation at the prospect of seeing Tara dance.
“Okay, just give me a moment to warm up.”
Tara slipped off her sandals and eased her body off the couch and onto the floor. She spread her legs wide and began to bend and stretch over one and then the other. Her massive breasts embraced her leg before settling on the floor. Dave could feel his heart pounding and his balls were tingling with delight. “I can stretch and talk at the same time, so tell me about your wife, David? Do you love her?”
“I do,” he said. “But something’s missing. I don’t know what the problem is.”
“Let’s see,“ Tara said. “Can you imagine life without her?”
“Not, I can’t,” David said. Tara was now doing something that looked to David like yoga moves. She had raised herself up on her elbows and her swaying breasts were sweeping the floor. It was the most erotic sight David had ever seen and he was having trouble concentrating on her questions.
“Do you think she loves you?”
“I’m sure she does.”
“So you only have two problems - you and her - and you can take care of the ‘you’ part. Do you remember the excitement in the beginning, when you couldn’t get enough of each other?”
“I do,” David said, mesmerized by every point of Tara’s toe, every twist of her waist and shoulders. He felt excitement alright.
“Are you bringing the same level of enthusiasm, same appreciation of your wife to the table as you did in the beginning? Are you making her feel as good as you did in the beginning?”
“Well, things change. It’s only natural . . .”
“Don’t tell me that it’s only natural that relationships cool with time. Relationships get boring because people get boring. You told me that you couldn’t imagine life without your wife. Think about that. Think about life without her and then make every moment count. Make every moment a reason for her to stay. And then talk to her about the things that are bothering you. Find out what’s bothering her. If you love each other, your problems aren’t that big. Get it together!”
Tara’s words touched him deeply. She seemed wise beyond her years and she had a gift for simplifying things. No wonder Bruce felt close to her. He felt close to her, too.
“I’m ready,” Tara said, moving toward the studio.
David watched Bruce bound from the couch, hurry into the studio and drop, designer suit and all, onto the wooden floor. There were no chairs so David followed, feeling clumsy and ill at ease as he flopped down beside him. Tara had removed her skirt and was now a barefoot, long limbed creature in a unitard that fit like a second skin. She was leading them into her world, the world she loved best and the air was electric with anticipation. A mirror lined the entire back wall, reflecting both brothers, and David smiled nervously at the lust that had reddened both their faces.
Tara faced away from them, arms raised in a V-shape, her body bowed in an alluring curve. The sound of drums, birds and rushing water filled the room with a potent tropical atmosphere. Against the beat, Tara’s arms began to move with bewitching grace. Her huge breasts, teasing half moons, peeked from either side of her tight torso. David looked at Bruce. Excitement steamed from his every pore. Tara turned toward them, her face bathed in a beauty of such seductive power that David would have done anything she wanted him to do. He was enraptured. He was hypnotized, his attention moving to her hips, her arms, her legs - wherever she wanted it to go. His eyes followed her across the studio to the left, to the right, into the air and to the ground - wherever she wanted his focus. And he could feel his cock growing helplessly. He loved the way she was making him feel. He became so aroused that he had to fight not to take out his cock and jerk off right there and then. He wanted Bruce to disappear. He wanted this creature dancing just for him, ready to claim his manhood whenever she was ready.
He tried to control his panting. He took a deep breath, not wanting to give himself away, but couldn’t. The raspy sounds were not coming from his pounding chest, but from Bruce, who had lost all control. David could see that his brother’s engorged cock had tented his pants to full capacity and his face was suffused with his body’s need for release. She moved toward them as the music faded and bowed deeply, offering her overwhelming breasts and cleavage as she did so. David heard Bruce’s groan as he succumbed to orgasm, his slack face hidden behind his hands, his pants suffering the stain of passion so well spent. And it was all he could do to hold onto his own sanity. The three of them seemed locked in a moment of such depth of feeling that no words would suffice.
“Well,” Tara spoke finally, “what did you think?”
“You were incredible,” David said. “I’ve never seen anyone move so beautifully. You took our breath away.”
“And what about you, Bruce? What say you?”
Bruce’s sobs seemed to come from the deepest recesses of his soul. He was without defences as Tara rushed over and gathered him in her arms, gathered him against her massive bosom. “I understand. It’s alright,” she murmured over and over again.
David watched spellbound as their two bodies intertwined closer and closer. Words had moved into deeper meanings, into the grunts and moans of emotions that knew their own truth. David felt like he was suffocating in the density of their intimacy and he had to get away. He moved as stealthily as he could away from their kiss that seemed to never end; their kiss that had opened a door that would not close until all passion had been spent. He had noticed a notepad on the little table in the foyer. He scribbled: Call me at home in the morning. Take care you two. Love, David. P.S. Don’t forget to call Jake. He didn’t breathe easily until he had hit the street, hailed a cab and had settled in the back seat, en route to the familiar comfort of his home.
He watched mindlessly as modern office buildings gave way to gracious old town homes. As sidewalks turned into parklands and parklands into the affluent sprawling homes of upper suburbia. David felt like he’d been on this roller coaster ride too late in life. The entire evening had left him feeling disoriented and very weary. He thought of Lucy. He remembered her as he’d left her that morning, long raven hair tousled about her sleepy face. Breasts still firm and ponderous under her loosely belted robe. He thought of the things Tara had said about life without Lucy and the panic he felt was a true indication of his dependence on her. He couldn’t remember when he’d last told her how much he loved her, how she turned him on. Worse, he couldn’t remember when he’d last shown her. The sight of Tara and Bruce kissing, the hunger and longing that had driven him away, flooded his mind and he knew that he had to get that feeling back. He would get that feeling back. Not only did he love his wife, but she moved and excited him like no other.
“Pull over at the Galleria. Next block. I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“No problem,” the cabbie said.
He bought iced champagne, Lucy’s favourite. He bought yellow roses. He assembled a picnic basket with cold lobster, a green salad, strawberries and cream. But most importantly, he was bringing home a passion he had failed to nurture for too many years. His heart was pounding as he paid the driver, gathered his things and rushed to open his door.
A soft light bathed Lucy’s face as she lay on the couch watching a late show. David placed his goodies on the coffee table and moved toward her. He offered her the flowers. A look of puzzlement was quickly replaced by delight and a youthful sweetness that he hadn’t seen in years.
“What’s gotten into you?” she said. Her voice was breathy. Hopeful.
“You. You’ve gotten into me. And these,” he said, massaging her breasts lovingly.
He noticed her quick intake of breath and knew that underneath that robe, petals were opening and a warm wetness had begun to ooze out of her pussy. Gazing into her eyes, he stripped himself of his overcoat and jacket. “I need you to know how much I love and want you,” he said, surprised at how husky his voice sounded, how full of need. Lucy lay still. He could read her mind. He understood her unwillingness to give in to that which she thought might not be real. He began to caress her legs and thighs. He loved the heat emanating from the source of their joining. He allowed his fingers to brush over her mound, teasing her, making her squirm with desire. “David, David,” she whispered. He opened her robe, ran his hands over the body of the woman he had chosen and was choosing again. She was wearing a red half bra and matching panties. He had seen them before, but had never noticed then as he did now. He looked at them anew. “You’re beautiful and I adore you,” he whispered, nibbling her earlobe.
“Let me see you,” she said.
He knew she needed him to be vulnerable and undressed quickly. He couldn’t help being proud of the length and girth of the cock that stood straight out in front of him, dripping pre-cum and begging for her touch, her love, her lust. She shrugged off her robe, stood and took him into her arms. They kissed, their hunger and longing pulling them into one rushing, overpowering stream of passion. The kiss didn’t end until his cock found its way between her legs, legs that grasped and caressed his throbbing manhood. They sank slowly to the floor, discarding the rest of their clothing and all of their distrust as they went.
“This is what I need,” she said. “I need to feel wanted. I need . . .”
David stilled her with a kiss so deep, so full of hope and promise that there were no more questions. He entered her slowly, as though she were a virgin, loving the first tentative kiss of her pussy lips, her welcoming warmness. She lifted her pelvis toward him. He loved the slow building of her sexual aggression, the glint in her eyes as muscles deep inside her began to claim his manhood. He became her slave, the object of her desire. She twisted and turned, urged him forward and back. She let him know how fast or how slow to go. And he followed her until she let them both free to fuck into the frenzy that ended the wait, thrusting them over the edge of orgasm and into the free fall of release.
Afterwards, they showered together and threw on the robes they’d gotten from the hotel on their honeymoon. They sat on the floor and drank champagne, loving their picnic almost as much as the touches and kisses they stopped to share.
When Bruce called the next day, they were relieved to hear that he was happy with Tara and that one of her friends would be driving him up to the seminary to collect his things. He reported that Tara had decided to keep her breasts and that the whole cast was threatening to quit if they refused to give her the job.
David was thrilled for them. He and Lucy were already packed and ready to leave on their second honeymoon. They had already begun their renewed life.
All’s well that ends well, David thought. Life was very good. |