“I’d love to chat longer about this, but I’m in the middle of something. We can talk more when I get back home.”
“Of course you’re busy. You’re always too busy for me.” She sniffled. I wasn’t going to fall for her guilt trip. My conscious wasn’t clumsy enough for that.
“I love you, mom.”
“Fine. I love you too. Come home sometime.”
I didn’t like leaving my mom sad like that, but she was annoying me with her complaints and I was already annoyed by dad enough as it was. I hated hearing about that kind of stuff. He was too old to have a healthy sex life, especially with someone so young. He would be closer to death than that baby was to being an adult. My dad was never really considerate of my mom’s feelings, but this wasn’t really much of her business anymore. I could understand why she was upset.
I already had three other brothers. I was the baby, and so everyone thought I got off so easy. Really it meant my parents had the highest standards for me. Now there was another baby and I can’t imagine the anxiety it would put on the child or how easily it would be spoiled since it was an only child. I hoped it would be an only child.
When I got back in the room April had showered and put her sweats on. She was flipping back and forth from HGTV to the Food network with a bag of chips in her lap.
“I thought you said you were on a diet.”
“Yeah but I’m drunk also so,” she stuck out her tongue at me. If anyone didn’t need to diet, it was April. She was curved, but all of them were an excellent size. They added interest to her body. I much preferred this to all the thin women in the shows in Vegas. It was nice for a little change. She was different than them in a lot of ways. “Who was that on the phone?”
“It was my mom.”
“Oh. I figured it was another…”
“Cougar?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you were still right.”
“Oh.” She looked over at me then back at the TV. “Complicated family.”
“Definitely. Why do you think I became a hooker?”
She smiled at me and went back to watching the set on TV about remodelling a house. Outside of college I have never met anyone as anxious and semi-crazy as April. Sometimes she would talk to herself out loud. She did a really good job of drifting off into her own place It was funny to watch her chain of thoughts and what she day dreamed about. The less sad she got the more positive her dreams were. Before it seemed like she had a drive because she wanted to prove herself, but in the small amount of time that I had known her she had switched a little. It seemed like she was trying to start doing things because she wanted to and because she made them happy. She no longer seemed ashamed of me, her escort date. She was beginning to embrace the weekend and the fun we would have.
I was really hoping that now that she wanted to swim that we would. Hopefully soon. Hopefully tonight. Hopefully naked.
I sat on the bed and watched the show with her, but I wasn’t really paying attention to the TV. April would point out details of certain houses, explaining that she had always dreamed of living in a place like that or with that or yadda yadda. When it was on the food network she would groan and ask me frequently if we should get food service. I had to keep turning it down, letting her know each time that I had to watch my intake and I had already gone over with the alcohol.
“Meeeee too.” She laughed and finished the bags of chips. “That’s why I figured why not.”
“It’s not like you need to stick to it that tightly, anyway.”
“Yes I do.” She started to look a little disappointed. “If I don’t stick to it in the beginning, odds are I won’t stick to it at all. But right now I’m drunk so it doesn’t count.”
“Right.” I sorted through my bag, looking for my tooth brush.
“I’ll be hot again soon.”
“You’re gorgeous now. You don’t need to work out anymore.”
“Grant. I can’t be a potato forever.”
“The only reason why you are saying that is because you are what you eat and you just had a bag of those.”
She snorted and threw the bag at me.
“I really don’t get how you don’t see it. Why do you have such low self confidence?”
“My mom.” She mumbled. April seemed like she was in less of a joking mood and more of a somber mood now. She was beginning to sober up.
“How does your mom make you feel bad?”
“She reminds me of the accident. She tells me about how I gained a ton of weight on it.”
“That’s horrible. That can’t be true.”
“It was 70 lbs.”
I stood and blinked at her a bit. That was a lot of weight to put on. If she had gained that much and looked like this, how little had she weighed before? “Even if you are bigger than you were before, you aren’t fat by any means.”
“That’s so sweet of you.”
“But you really aren’t. You just have hips and boobs.” She blushed and turned it back to HGTV before the cooking was done. “Why did you switch it?”
“I don’t have any more food to eat and that channel makes me so hungry.”
“Then just order room service. Just because I’m not eating doesn’t mean you can’t.”
“Please?” She looked at me with puppy dog eyes. “If I do, you have to.”
It was really hard to resist. I had already gone over my diet by 563 calories, and I didn’t really want to have to work all of those off when I got back home. I was having a great time, though. Maybe I could surf it off, or do some heavy dancing at the wedding. April started chanting the word “indulge” over and over, growing from quiet to fairly loud.
“Fine.”
“Yay!” She picked up the phone and dialed the number. “What do you want?”
“How about a banana split?”
“Wooh! Chocolately and starchy. Just how I like it.”
She told them our order, fumbling a few words when she spoke. After she hung up the receiver she crossed her arms and smiled at me.
“What?”
“Normally I’d have to recite a phone call before I made it for it to go that well.” She smirked. “And I convinced pretty boy to eat tons of fat with me.”
“And I convinced pretty girl to give in to her temptations.”
“Whatever. You’re nothing special.” She said, sarcastically. I could see her cheeks become rosier each time I complimented her. It felt good to make her feel better, and it felt great to see the reaction physically. Normally people don’t react that much when you compliment them, but she internalized each one. I hope she knew I meant it with every fiber of my being. I tugged at my tie and slipped it off.
15
April
“Woah, what are you doing?” I said and Grant began to lift his shirt out of his pants. “In the bathroom.”
“What? You’ve never seen a man shirtless before?”
I blushed.
“You know, if we go swimming, you can’t exactly run away in the ocean. It’s dangerous.” He took his shirt off and then his undershirt. I looked away. When I looked back he was laying in the bed with only his boxers and a hotel robe on.
“What are you doing?”
“Laying down.”
“No way. You’re going to sleep on the couch.”
“No I’m not.”
“It’s part of the deal.”
“No, I just said I won’t be sleeping with you. I never said I wouldn’t be sharing a bed sleeping with you.”
“You have to.”
“It’s too uncomfortable.”
“It’s perfectly comfortable. You haven’t even sat on it, how would you know?”
“You haven’t sat on it either.” He was right, but I was starting to become impatient. “You wouldn’t know if it’s comfy or not. And if it’s that comfy, why don’t you sleep on it?”
“My invite, my rules.”
He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Well you are just going to have to
deal with this. I’m not going to break my back just because you don’t want to share.” He got up and went to the bathroom. “I still have to shower. You can get used to the idea while I am gone.”
The ice cream was delivered and I stress ate. The more food I put in my body, the more I could feel myself becoming sober. If I hadn’t gotten to be better friends with him I probably would have offered him the bed instead of the couch. I felt comfortable enough with him now, though, to demand he be the bigger man. It’s funny how quickly you can be acquainted to someone when put in high stress situations with plenty of booze. Especially when you are both about the same amount of comfortable. Actually, he seemed more used to this than me. He could dance his way through social groups like a ballerina. I was going to have to read his book on how to be a charming person without having sex with them.
I finished all the ice cream. He took incredibly long showers. I wondered if maybe he had more products than me or if he needed time to settle. I heard the water turn off so I tucked myself under the covers, hoping that if I couldn’t argue his way out of sleeping on the bed. I could hog the bed to a point where he didn’t want to sleep on it. The door began to open. I squeezed my eyes shut and did my best drunk impression of a sleeping person.
“Are you going to scoot over, or am I going to have to make you?” I peeked out of one of my eyes. He started to take off his robe, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. Each of his abs were like little mountains on his stomach. It took all my effort not to stare. I did an awful job. He slid into the bed, nudging me onto one side as he did.
“Separate blankets.” I said, hoping that the layers would give us some distance. He respected my request, letting out a sigh and rolling his eyes a bit.
I could see by the smirk on his face that I had assumed right. He loved to shock me. I don’t know if it made me blush every time he did, but my face got hot. I wondered how he knew. What part of me was giving away my inner thoughts? “Why do you keep surprising me?”
“Your face gets rosy and you babble. You just speak your mind. It’s like you lose control of your tongue. And who doesn’t like to have their body marveled?”
“Me.”
He looked at me, some sorrow in his eyes. I could tell my self pity was starting to annoy him. He had told me I was beautiful enough times for me to get annoyed by that even. We both said nothing. Looking in his eyes I could see the sharp details in the pools of brown. He looked caring. He looked trustworthy. He looked like he cost a million dollars, which I didn’t have.
I could still feel his body through the sheets we had between us. All my hopes for a fun sleepover with him were dashed out of my head. I had lived with a gay male for so long that I forgot how to interact with a straight one. This wasn’t like a best friend sleepover, and that made it difficult for me to know how to act. I wanted to play his game. I wanted to shock him back. I wanted to know what that power felt like.
“I didn’t save any ice cream for you. You shouldn’t have showered so long.” I sassed.
“Good. I didn’t want any.”
Damn. This was going to be harder than it seemed.
He started to lean in, and I scooted back a little. I wanted to lean in too, though. So badly. I wanted to feel those lips again. I hate how badly I wanted to be with him. I hate that he knew that. I hate that I couldn’t tell if he was taking advantage of my wallet or my heart. There was no way that I could kiss him. I couldn’t kiss him this weekend, at least.
“What?” He opened his eyes. I surprised him this time, not giving in.
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
I didn’t answer. I was afraid that if I did I would offend him. I didn’t know how to respond. His brown eyes pierced through mine. I wanted to kiss him. I felt guilty for giving in and guiltier for not giving in. I couldn’t afford him enough already, and if this was a clever Vegas trick, I would be on the streets in no time.
I didn’t want to think of the future anymore. All that had given me is worry and a false sense of insecurity. Things always work out, and if they didn’t, I could cross that bridge when I got to it. I needed to shock him back, to put him in his place. He still looked at me, but had eased away a bit.
I repeated myself.
“We just can’t.”
I didn’t want to say that I couldn’t afford him. I didn’t want to say that I never thought I would go this far with a prostitute. I didn’t want to say anything. And I didn’t have to. He seemed to read my mind, his eyes seeing my thoughts. Grant leaned in, kissing me on the mouth anyway, not caring about what that I thought.
And I stopped thinking when he did that. I didn’t feel anything but the rush of blood that his mouth was giving me. I felt light. His lips were caressing mine sweetly. I had resisted enough tonight, I decided to indulge myself. I kissed him back, hard. Our lips parted and we kept kissing and kissing, long and soft, then quickly and hard. Our tongues would dance with each other, licking the inside of our mouths. He put his hand on my cheek. It was like a pillow and released a world of butterflies into my stomach. I reached back, my hand on his head too, all the while pressing my lips onto his.
I couldn’t think anymore. I could only feel. My primitive being was taking over, and I felt hot. I wanted him. I combed my fingers through his hair. It was still a little wet, but soft and silky in the dry parts. It felt like a feather dancing across my fingers. I wanted to giggle. I resisted that urge, keeping my mouth occupied with his.
We kissed for a long time. We kissed hard. I was justifying this to myself in my head, trying to silence my dizzying thoughts. He never said a kiss would cost me anything. And he started it. This was all his doing. It could be off the books if it was out of his own control, right?
He moved his hand down, slowly, passing over my neck and then shoulder, to where it was under the covers on my arm. It was beneath the sheet that separated us. He rested it on my waist, putting the other hand back up behind my neck again. I wondered if he could feel my pulse, beating against his hand.
I started to move my hand too, mimicking him. It went down to his neck, to his shoulders, and it stopped as I placed it over his peck. It was firm and soft. His skin was gentle but firm underneath. His muscles rippled. I moved it down, stopping on his side.
My head tore back. I looked in his eyes. I had gone this far without asking. I wanted to ask. I wanted to say “what are we doing?” but I couldn’t, because I knew very well. His eyes were so dreamy. He didn’t think anything of my pulling back. He just leaned forward again, waiting for me to kiss him back. And I did. And with that his hand moved up my shirt.
I wanted to suck in my stomach, but now it was too late to do that. He rested his palm on the curve of my waist, petting me back and forth. Everything in me felt alive. His fingers were rubbing my back sweetly, reassuring me that this was fine. It was fine. I felt fine. I felt great. I felt wonderful, like this mattress was a cloud and we were floating high above that dumb party and dumb rent and other fees. We were carelessly sailing the sky, just kissing.
It felt right here with him. I felt cared for. I felt the outline of his penis on the sheet between us. I tossed it up. Every part of me fell into a million pieces as he touched me, trailing his hand up to my bra. I pulled him in tighter, kissing his neck slowly. He smelled like a candle I had had months ago. He smelled like summer. My lips moved back to his mouth as he reached behind and unhooked my bra. I was surprised by how quickly he unfastened it. He liked surprising me. He liked surprises.
I took this opportunity to shock him back. I put my leg on him, flipping into a straddling position. His hands rested on my waist. I could feel him hard beneath me. I noticed my breathing was uneven. I kissed him on the mouth again slowly. His hands pushed up on my shirt until it was off. I pulled back a little. It had been so long that all these sensations felt so new to me. His lips met mine again, slowing even more. I leaned down on him, my hands behind his head, twisting in his hair.
His palms curled up
my waist back up to the bra. He took it off slowly, kissing my arms as he pulled it down them. I gasped. He loved it, kissing hard, trailing back up to my shoulder, my neck, my mouth.
His hands curled around my thighs, then trailed up my back just as slowly as the kisses had trailed to my mouth. I could feel goose bumps raise up on my arms. A chill was sent through my back. He smiled under my kiss and traced his fingers to my breasts, gently grabbing them.
Everything felt so sensitive. My heart was beating out of my chest. I wondered if he could feel it beneath his hand, tapping out a message in Morse code. It was screaming for him to take me. It was screaming his name. It was screaming, and all I could do was let muffled gasps escape under our kisses. He was still smiling. His fingers squeezed gently, making me make more noise.
He bit my lip gently. His tongue dipped into my mouth then out, licked my lips. He kissed my cheek, and I could feel it was hot from my blushing that he loved so much. He kissed my neck. Did I smell like summer too? He kissed my shoulder. Then moved his mouth down, making a trail of kissing to my chest, sending a jolt to my head each kiss he gave.
My hips twisted. He let out a small breath. He was hot too. I pulled back, kissing him on the mouth. My hands released his hair and grabbed at his boxer seams. I couldn’t resist him anymore.
I realized what I was doing and stopped myself. He had to make the advances. I wanted him to do it. And as if he could read my mind, he did, shoving an index finger down in between my pants and my panties. He grabbed at the seam of my pants with both hands, now. Tugging them down little by little.
I tore down on his boxers. I felt his penis beneath me. He drew back, opening his eyes up at me. “Your turn.”
He didn’t have to say it twice. I rolled onto my back, where he worked quickly, pulling down my pant and then my panties. I kicked them off. His hands came back, one resting on my boob, and the other on my hips, thumb petting back and forth on my pelvis. He pulled his head back and smiled at me.
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