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Lady of Way

Page 9

by Rosemarie McCants


  "Why are you smiling?" Lisa was observing him closely, "You seem to be having a great time in your mind. I was waiting for it to end before you ask…"

  The smile was still on his lips. His gray eyes still had that pain, but behind it was a resolve- a firm resolve such that when he opened his mouth, he listened to himself as he told her what his mind had just told him, "I know how to find closure," he nodded as he spoke, "I know how to open up about it all. All I need is patience," he begged with his eyes, and she nodded, "Which brings me to my question," he drew in a deep breath and convincing himself that he would be ready for whatever answer she gave, asked. When she, in turn, opened her mouth to answer him, the tears flowed.

  Chapter 6

  Many things- time, space, humans, animals- tend to realize special moments and especially when it involves two people and the binding factor is love, but one thing doesn’t. Hunger seems to never be bothered by sacred moments that require no interruption, and so it pronounced itself with a cruel force, and before the day was half over, Mark and Lisa were in the car, headed for town, short picnic over. Much remained unspoken between them. Mark was still determined to keep his promise to Lisa, and that promise involved him driving back to Three Tulips, and to his brother Paul. On the next seat beside him, Lisa sat, seemingly doing her own deciding. Turning to him, she drew in a deep breath, and he knew that what she was about to say had a lot to do with them both and their moments,

  “Let’s go to meet my mum. There’s food there.” It was said simply, with no hint of any implications behind the words. The way they came out of her mouth was the same way she would have told him that a particular place was better than the other. He turned to glance at her and to answer.

  "Let's go meet your mum." And with that, the car headed north of Sinai Walk town.

  "Don't worry; my mum is very… not choosy, for lack of a better word." She had noticed his restlessness and fidgeting the moment it must have dawned to him that he was indeed going to Lisa’s for lunch. And to meet her mum.

  "You mean she doesn't mind that I'm…" he trailed off.

  "You're what, Mark?"

  "I'm, you know, you're… come on, Lisa. Do I have to spell it out?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about," she said innocently, "Unless you say it. The next driveway… here- here! You’re going too fast!”

  "Sorry- Lisa, I'm… ah… is she okay with…"

  "I get it, Mark. Don't worry. I'll let her down slowly, gently. She'll understand when I tell her that you're gay."

  "What- Lisa!"

  At that moment, a woman walked out of the house and towards their car. Mark tried to catch Lisa’s eyes with his warning ones, but she intentionally avoided his gaze. The woman waited as they got out of the car.

  “Hi mum…” the two women hugged, “We’re hungry.”

  “There’s more than enough food for you and…” she paused, “Mark, I presume?” Mark was genuinely surprised. He turned to Lisa, but she was already far ahead in front, hurrying into the house.

  *****

  "Mama," Lisa, called without taking her eyes off Mark, "Mark has something he would like clarified," Mark, with a horrified look on his face, raised his hands to protest "I'm not…" but Lisa cut him off as she addressed her mum in that foreign language Mark had heard earlier as Lisa helped her mum set the table with steaming dishes of- Mark wasn’t sure what it was, and he was too hungry to ask.. As he sat there and through hot ears listened to the strange dialect rolling off their tongues, he recalled a Sunday school story Paul had loved when they were young, something about Moses being so angry that the earth opened up and swallowed some dissenters in his group. If that Moses was here, Mark thought, I would have angered him thousands of times over. I need the earth to swallow me too. Lisa and her mum were laughing.

  "Don't worry Mark," Mrs. Fellows, smiling brightly, turned to him, "I don't mind at all. Such a thing has never been an issue in our family for as long as I can remember."

  "But I'm not gay, Mrs. Fellows," Mark blurted out. Mrs. Fellows' face registered surprise, coupled with confusion. Lisa burst out laughing.

  "What is going on?" Mrs. Fellows asked as she looked from one to the other. Lisa continued laughing while Mark, beginning to suspect what Lisa could have actually told her mum, leaned back in his seat. Mrs. Fellows seemed to have realized it too.

  "I'm so sorry Mark," she gave her daughter who was still guffawing a stern look, "Lisa told me you were worried that I would have a problem with you because you're white."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Fellows. I thought she was telling you that I'm gay."

  "Mark, we're a progressive family, changing and adapting with cultural and societal expectations." Mrs. Fellows added, and after a moment, she too burst out laughing. Despite himself, Mark couldn’t resist joining in…

  "So, you spend most of your time in the bush?" Mrs. Fellows asked Mark an hour later as they sat in the sitting room. She was flipping through some images he had shown her on his new, just purchased phone, interest all over her face. He, on the other hand, was still taking in the various African- themed ornamentations and objects adorning all the walls. Mrs. Fellows, having noticed his interested gasp the moment they had entered the room had given him a tour and had explained everything, from meaning to function, of each.

  "Not always. But once in every three years, the Djoser Wild Prize comes up. This will be my third attempt at winning first place."

  "In this dry place? Sinai Walk?" Her interest was palpable, and Mark was feeling very pleased to be speaking to someone so interested.

  "Yes. I have been searching for them and stealing a snapshot or two."

  "I wonder…” Mrs. Fellows studied the images with keen interest, “How can one tell that it is not doctored? the image, the photo?" She paused, "There’s lots of software… Photoshop…"

  "The selection process is very thorough," Mark took back his phone, “And they have some software that reverses any editing, no matter how minute. With it, they are able to tell whether the photo is genuine or not.”

  “Raw images is what they prefer?”

  “Well yes,” his surprise must have shown on his face, for she smiled, “No other formats can be submitted.”

  “That is very interesting and unique,” she smiled as Lisa walked in with steaming cups, “Here’s the tea. Welcome home, Mark.” With those few words and their first sip, Mark knew she meant more.

  "Lisa, I'm going to get back at you soon." He hissed suddenly. They were standing outside her mum’s house. It was a cloudy night and slightly chilly. Having enjoyed himself more than he had thought he would have; mind and stomach, Mark sighed contentedly as he regarded the woman standing in front of him beside a rose bush a few feet to the left of the front door. The house had outside lighting, but Lisa had switched it off before the two had snuck out, though Mrs. Fellows had given them a very knowing look and smile.

  “What did I do?” she asked innocently, though Mark could tell that she was smiling with glee. He sought out her hand and found it already, seeking his. They linked fingers as he pulled her closer to him,

  “You lied to such a great woman as your mum,” he whispered as, despite the slight chill in the air, a searing warmth surrounded them both with a pulsating urgency, and each was well aware of the other’s meaningful sighs and soft gasps, “For that, I aim to…”

  "Get me? You can do it now," she snuggled closer and purred, “It was uncouth of me to lie to her…” he felt her finger trailing a pattern on his lower lip, “Do it now,” she breathed.

  "When the moment ah… is right, I will…"

  "Who decides when it is right?" he could feel her warm breath now.

  "Fate, luck… chance, opportunities… divine intervention if you're religious…" she pressed against him, and he groaned with pleasure at her knee between his legs.

  "What about us, Mark? Can't we decide too?" A slight throb started in his temples. With overly heightened senses, he felt her tugging at his shirt a
nd in a moment, felt the chilly night breeze as the shirt came untucked. He believed his gasp could be heard for miles as he felt her cool hand on his stomach, sliding upwards, ever so tantalizingly, while she continued torturing the tight ache between his legs with her thigh.

  "We can… ah… do you… do you… want us to?"

  "Yes, Mark… I want us to." They did, falling into each other as their lips and mouths, after much talking, met lustfully. Languid and unhurried, they let their bodies react to the passionate kiss uninhibited. Mark put his hand behind her head and drew her even closer. She yielded without resistance and drew her whole body even closer, pressing it against his bared stomach, the heat emanating through her thin blouse activating his primal instinct, and he found himself pushing against her even more. He groaned with pleasure as she welcomed his fullness by pressing herself against it. She ached, and he knew it. She waited, and he knew that too. He pressed a trembling hand to her stomach- and quickly withdrew it when she bucked and moaned. When they broke the kiss, she put both her hands on his cheeks and made him face her. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as she studied him carefully,

  “Mark, are you wondering whether I'm a virgin?" he attempted to shake his head, but her soft hands still held him firmly.

  "God, no…That never… crossed my mind…"

  "Well,” she kissed his hungrily waiting lips lightly, “I’m wondering about you…” he murmured something just as her mouth landed on his and took the murmur, “Let’s not wonder anymore,” she tugged at his lip with her teeth, “For we can find out… it is just a short bus ride away…” Intensifying the kiss, Mark reciprocated with a vengeance, and when his primal instinct guided his hand into and upward her blouse, the hand did not falter or draw back when the response to his touch was a moan and a shiver up her back. He realized that by making her moan and beg for more, he was finally getting back at her, just as he had promised. His temples pounded as he realized that right there and then, another memorable moment was in the making.

  Giddy expectation denied Mark the chance to admire Sinai Walk at night as the bus droned for what he thought was forever, but was in actuality less than twenty minutes. He found himself scrambling out after Lisa, who turned and smiled at him as he descended the last step. He observed that they had alighted at a place with more trees than houses, and recalled Lisa telling him that she lived on the fringes of town. With a hiss, the bus’s automatic doors closed and it continued with its journey, perhaps taking other lovers to their intended destinations…

  "Just a short walking distance," Lisa turned to him in the darkness, "I hope it isn't too dark…"

  "I can see, if that is what you mean," he matched her stride, "Just not as clearly as I should."

  "The remedy is to chew as many raw carrots as possible when young. Old wives' tale maybe…"

  "Doesn't work. Paul would be like a cat by now, but as it is, he's worse than me."

  "May I let you in on an observation?"

  "If it is that you're walking too fast, then yes, let me in."

  "Oh, didn't notice I was racing," she slowed a fraction, "And we're here."

  "Oh, not far," he observed quietly. It was hard to get a glimpse of the kind of neighborhood it was, but Mark could tell by the scarcity of lights splashed around that it was a suburban one. He would give it a good look in daylight; he decided as Lisa led him by hand towards a house set apart and surrounded by tall trees like sentries. He could tell for their silhouettes were sharply contrasted with the slightly brightening sky. She noticed him looking about him, "My father bought this place before I was born, even before meeting mum."

  "Oh?"

  "When he died, mum wanted to sell it, but…" she unlocked the door and guided him into the dark hallway, "I hope you're not allergic to dust," she said- and sneezed, "Haven't been here a while."

  "I'm waiting for you to switch on the lights."

  "Sure… hold onto something while I… found it…" From where he stood at the door holding firmly onto the jamb, Mark heard a click, but nothing happened. Perhaps I've gone blind, he thought but then heard Lisa cursing from somewhere in the thickest of the dark.

  "Not paid your bill…" he started…

  "Damn breaker must have tripped again…" she spoke just as he started to joke.

  "Just perfect. And on such a night."

  "Surely you must have candles? Point me to a seat; my feet are on fire.”

  "I'm pointing at it," she laughed, "There it is."

  "Lisa…" he took a tentative step towards what he believed to be the room, "Is this the best time to joke?"

  "Mark, we're so stupid." Her sudden outburst stopped him short.

  "For thinking it can only work when there is light?"

  "For not using our phones! Wait… what only works when there is light?" She asked.

  "Nothing..! Here…" He waved his phone flashlight, trying to locate her position, "Found the couch!" He walked into the room and sank into the seat. He waved the flashlight around- to see her standing a few feet away, looking at him. She didn't blink when the phone flashlight fell on her face.

  "What?" He lowered the light to her feet then started raising it upwards, pausing at her middle section.

  "Wondering what you meant," she replied quietly.

  "Well," Mark stood up and set the phone on what looked like a shelf, or a counter, or… he wasn't sure what it was, but the phone light bathed the rest of the room in a sort of selective ethereal effect, ray-like and intense where it fell directly, and soft in other places. He turned, "Now that I can see, come closer so that I can tell you." He sat and waited, arms outstretched. She did, crashing into his open embrace, mouth finding his ready one. He kissed her back with a hungry impatience, till she pulled herself away and gazed at him with shining eyes. Perhaps it was the phone light's effect, but he didn't care. It added allure to their already heightened senses. Understanding that she was asking him to take it slow, but without ruining the moment with words, he nodded and pulled her close again. This time round, he restrained and cautioned his impatience, finally taming it such that he could feel his body reacting leisurely to their slow kiss.

  Well knowing that speaking would ruin something, Mark, with a meaningful look stood up and taking her hand, reached for the phone and used its light to guide them to where he believed was the bedroom. Once in there, he closed the door and looked around to orient himself, shone the light on her briefly as if taking one last look and tapped it off. The only available light was from a window by the bed, and it was very faint since the moon was still behind grey clouds. Mark reached out and found her reaching out- they pulled/guided each other to the bed. She fell on it first and on her back, and Mark climbed in to seek her out with his mouth but paused. He slid off the bed and stripped, slowly, unhurriedly- since he had broken in his impatience and could now relish what awaited without a rush… and slid back into bed. He heard her slight gasp as her hand reached out and made contact with bare skin. Just at that moment, the moon's timeout ended and suddenly, the room was bathed in an otherworldly lunar light. In the semi-dark, she lay on the bed and waited. Mark, lying next to her, found her hand and with unspoken indication, let her know what he wanted, and that is what she did. She sat up as he lay on his back, and starting from his face, exploring him with her soft hands. Their sense of touch heightened since that of sight was limited; he felt her hand slide to his neck, which she kissed with feathery caresses. Still sliding lower, she caressed his chest and especially his nipples. Surely those weren't supposed to be that sensitive and erogenous to the touch? He wondered hazily as she moved lower… and he felt her hand on his rising and falling stomach, tracing a tantalizing pattern… while the other hand, as if seemingly from nowhere landed lightly on his bare thigh. His mind expected it and his body anticipated it, but when both her hands met- one sliding up and the other sliding lower, one to cup his testicles and the other to curl softly around his throbbing shaft, his loud, unrestrained groan filled the small bedroom and found
its way outside, to be answered by several nightly sounds from the surrounding trees. She was torturing him, he knew as with methodical slowness alternated with fast motions, she slid her hand up and down his manhood, gripping and letting go in similar fashion. He believed he would die if she didn't stop, but if she did stop then he would still die. And such was the position he was in; love limbo… whenever he felt he couldn't take it anymore and that he would surely explode with pleasure, she would ease up, and he would be left with an aching yearning to be gripped once again… only to feel her soft hands tugging, squeezing and pressing his dick… and the torture went on and on… while with his eyes closed, Mark agonized in waves of dizzying yearning for relief that seemed far off in coming… their crests of heightened expectations and troughs of momentous gasps for relief sending shivers up and down his gleaming, sweaty body- until with one final groan that he was sure must have been heard for miles, he came explosively, waves upon waves of uncontrollable spasms sending him to a place he had never been to before, for, in it, he was neither up or down, dead or alive, male or female… in it he experienced everything at the same time, and the result was a moment that his body took on a mind of its own… just letting him repossess it slowly with slight shudders and short breaths.

  It would have been selfish of Mark to have gone to orgasm heaven alone- someone else needed to find out how real it had been to him.

  Having taken a moment to get back his senses, Mark slid off the bed and indicated for Lisa to do the same. He looked into her eyes just as the moon once again asked for some time off- the baying of some animal must have been the answer for the room was once again dark, save for the faint light from the window falling on the now rumpled bed. Mind still reeling, Mark pulled Lisa close and pressing himself as close as he could to her, started her off with a light kiss to the lips. She responded in kind by pressing herself against him, the heat between her legs awakening him once again with a throbbing vengeance… he slid a hand under her blouse to find her stomach rising and falling in flutters. He teased her by tracing faint patterns with his fingers as she gasped, moaned, and leaned against him for support. He tugged at her bra which she unclasped, and relying on feel and touch only, played his hand around her stomach once again, sliding upwards ever tantalizingly slow as she gasped with impatient and heightened expectation. Finally, he found, squeezed and cupped them, each in turn, and her loud moan was an indication of how tortured she was. She placed a hand on his head as he bent to kiss and suck the sensitive nipples as he continued squeezing gently. Suddenly, he felt her hand on his hard shaft begging, and through glazed eyes, let her know that he understood, as he motioned for her to sit on the bed. He moved closer and with her help took off the blouse. In the faint light, he let his imagination work wonders on how she must have looked without her blouse and bra on, and the thought drove him to his knees between her legs where once again he took her breasts, each in turn into his mouth. The heat emanating from her alerted him to another part of her that was yet to get any attention, and he stood up. He pushed her backward gently and took a moment to look at her, just lying there, though he could barely see. Letting his instinctive lust take over, he felt around her waist, loosened her skirt and pulled it down, together with the panties. He placed his hands on her knees and slid them up and down, getting further up with every motion and relishing her moaning. His mouth followed his hands as he kissed her thighs, working from the outer towards the inner, till he reached that point where they joined hotly, softly and maddeningly invitingly. Feeling that he could no longer control himself and suddenly feeling like thanking whatever was responsible, he placed a hand between her thighs and played his fingers upwards. With every motion she moaned and buckled with pleasure mingled with a hint of yearning for relief. She parted her legs to allow his hand, but he did not pause there. He sensed her disappointed sigh as his hand slid past and onto her navel. He tapped her knees, and she understood- she raised them and set her feet on the edge of the bed. She must not have expected it- she let out a loud and unrestrained moan when his hot mouth landed on her hot and pulsating need, licking and gently biting her vulva as she arched her back, opening her legs wider. Understanding the invitation, he slid up the bed, and as his face aligned with her agonizingly tortured one, he felt her hand grip his dick and tug it towards her…

 

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