by Lisa Ferrari
But he always thought doing it over water would be fun. Plus, if the bungee snapped, you’d only fall a few feet into the water and you wouldn’t get hurt.
Everyone says Kellan should go first.
He agrees.
He climbs the tower and the two guys up at the top hook the bungee cord to his ankles. Kellan inches to the edge of the platform. Mark has the boat parked close to the platform, so when Kellan jumps and springs back up, he’ll be directly in front of us.
I squint up at him standing on the platform. It looks much higher now that he’s actually up there.
This suddenly seems like it’s not a good idea.
Kellan blows me a kiss and does a big swan dive.
He does a smooth arc until the cable begins to stretch. He slows down and it looks like he may be able to actually dip his hands into the water.
The bungee cord snaps.
There’s a loud CRACK! as the two ends fray, and Kellan plunges into the lake.
I HOLD MY breath, staring at the water.
Everyone is very quiet.
“Enter Sandman” is playing on the boat’s sound system.
A jet ski drones by in the distance.
At last, Kellan comes to the surface.
Another bungee employee guy hops on a SeaDoo and picks Kellan up and brings him to us on the party boat. Kellan sits on the aft deck as the guy removes the ankle wraps.
Once freed, Kellan comes over to me. “I told those guys I was too heavy.”
I throw my arms around him.
Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, hugging and patting Kellan.
Mark hands Kellan a fresh beer and Kellan actually drinks it. Mark then motors us all away from the bungee platform.
ABOUT 30 MINUTES later, Mark rams the boat’s big silver pontoons onto the sand in a remote cove. Everyone swims off the back, floating in life jackets.
Mark hands Kellan the key to his own watercraft, a big black and yellow Yamaha, and suggests we go for a drive.
We put on our life jackets and I climb on behind Kellan. I wrap my arms around him tightly and he drives us away from the boat.
We skim along the surface at high speed. I’ve never been on a watercraft but I find that I really like it. It’s like riding a motorcycle on the water.
Kellan slows down and steers us into another little cove and behind some trees. He cuts the engine.
It’s quiet.
There are no people around.
Kellan stands up, turns around, and sits down, facing me. We start kissing, and the next thing I know, we’re making love on the jet ski. In the sunlight. During the day. He pulls down the top on my new red bikini so he can see my breasts, but we keep our life jackets on.
I think we’re both excited to be doing it out in public like this, because we come together in a matter of minutes. I almost wish we could keep going, but I’m also grateful Kellan is alive and well after nearly dying while bungee jumping.
The notion terrifies me. As we drive the Yamaha back to the others on the boat, and I sit with my arms around Kellan, the reality of just how much he means to me hits home. The possibility of no longer having him in my life hits me in the face like the cold water Kellan just fell into. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…
I decide not to go there.
Kellan is fine. We’re together. That’s what matters. That’s what I focus on.
WHEN WE GET back to the party boat and another couple takes the Yamaha out for a spin, Denise quips that we were gone a long time. She raises her D&G sunglasses and winks conspiratorially.
Kellan and I share a look but say nothing.
Chapter 9
SEPTEMBER ROLLS INTO October. Kellan and I continue to train and make love constantly.
We get into a habit of training together, spending an hour or more admiring one another’s body, getting very turned on, and then having sex.
One afternoon, we are running around the house naked and we start working out.
Kellan gets a huge erection.
After a few minutes, I tell him it’s his set. He gets up and starts lifting.
I sit down and watch.
I immediately discover why he got aroused. Watching his naked body as he squats is simultaneously endearing for its vulnerability and yet totally sexy and erotic.
This is a pattern we find ourselves repeating.
Sometimes we actually get dressed and drive to Iron Palace to train, in order to assure that we simply work out and don’t get sidetracked by having sex. While we’re at the gym, we get horny because we’ve grown accustomed to the nakedness.
I often grab Kellan’s ass when I’m supposed to be spotting him.
When he does fly’s on a flat bench, I lean forward and put my breasts in his face instead of spotting him.
People begin to sneak pictures on their phones and post them to Instagram. Kellan says to ignore them.
But I get texts and email from my mom and Beth saying they saw indecent photos of me online. Beth merely smirks and uses a bunch of emojis. My mom goes on and on about morality and shacking up with strange men and the obscene nature of my behavior.
She doesn’t know the half of it.
But her comment about shacking up does give me pause. I am more or less living with Kellan. He hasn’t officially asked me to move in. Nor have I brought it up. I’m still paying rent on my apartment. Most of my stuff is there. Although all my favorite clothes and my laptop and chargers are all at Kellan’s.
I decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I then delete my mom’s email.
ONE DAY, KELLAN and I go grocery shopping. We marvel at all the Halloween candy and costumes.
I tell Kellan that Denise usually throws a Halloween party, and would he want to dress up and come to the party with me.
He says sure. “What were you last year?”
“A Dementor.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, except pretty much no one but me knew what a Dementor is.”
“It’s one of those creepy black things from Harry Potter. They suck your soul out with a kiss.”
“Exactly.”
Kellan grabs me and crushes my body against his, right there in the candy aisle of the supermarket.
And I don’t mind at all.
In fact, I love it.
I see only him.
“Are you going to suck out my soul with a kiss?” he asks me.
“I’m going to suck something.”
“Promise?”
“Oh, I promise.”
Kellan gives me another kiss and we resume shopping.
“You want to hear the worst part?” I ask. “The worst part was that everyone at the party last year thought I was a KKK member.”
Kellan’s eyes get big and wide.
“So an hour after I got there, I went into the bathroom and took my costume off. I spent the rest of the evening with people asking me why I wasn’t dressed up.”
“Don’t worry,” Kellan says. “We’ll think of something cool.”
As we shop for the usual staples, protein and veggies mostly, we agree to get our costumes ready in secret, because we want to surprise one another.
The next day at work, I get an idea. I go into the bathroom and look up Conan the Barbarian online on my phone. I focus on all the images of Sandahl Bergman. When I get home that night, after Kellan and I have lifted and he made love to me from behind on the bed, I grab my laptop and begin ordering items for my costume off of ebay while Kellan sleeps. I dare to hope that it will come together the way I envision it in my mind, and I start to get excited.
DURING THE MONTH of October, we really get into the Halloween spirit. We go shopping for decorations and put orange and purple lights all over the house and out by the pool. Kellan orders a bunch of really expensive candles online and pays extra for next-day delivery. We arrange them in two’s and three’s all over the house and around the spa and pool. Each night, we each grab a safety lighter and run around the
house and the back yard, lighting all the candles. Kellan produces two fire extinguishers as well, and we keep them handy, just to be safe.
I shop for a birthday gift for him but I’m at a loss. He already has a beautiful home, four cars, a motorcycle…. What else is there? I eventually get him a really expensive pair of silk boxer shorts. I hope the silk will feel nice against his penis and perfect butt, and he’ll think of me when he’s wearing them, and he’ll get turned on and I can bite his big, thick, erect penis through the silk.
We roast marshmallows in the fire pit beside the pool, making s’mores. Kellan shows me a variation involving Kit Kat bars because he doesn’t like graham crackers very much. He roasts the marshmallow very, very slowly, heating it until it’s melting, but not letting it catch on fire. He explains that that is the mistake most people make: they catch the marshmallow on fire, let it burn until the outside of the marshmallow is black and crispy, they blow it out, and then smash it between two graham crackers. But all you have is cold, mushy marshmallow that tastes like carbon.
Instead, he lets the marshmallow get hot so it’s hanging off the skewer. Just before it’s about to slide or fall off, he puts it into the flames so it catches on fire, lets it burn for ten seconds, blows it out, pulls it off the skewer, and then gently pushes half of a stick of Kit Kat into the center of the marshmallow. He lets it sit for another ten seconds so the chocolate can melt, and then eats it. It’s much better than the usual s’mores.
We watch a lot of scary movies, too. Friday the Thirteenth, Halloween, The Thing, Ghostbusters, The Howling, Alien, Jaws, The Exorcist… We talk about our scariest movies. For him it’s Cape Fear. For me it’s Jaws and Saving Private Ryan, because those two movies have the most disturbing scenes I’ve ever seen. And they’re both Spielberg movies. WTF?
HALLOWEEN NIGHT COMES.
I am in the bathroom for almost an hour, using my phone to Google Sandahl Bergman Conan and applying the special black body paint I bought. I try my best to make it look the same as she looked in the movie. A black triangle diagonally across my face, across my arms, and across my thighs.
I almost went with her silver outfit, but I liked the thief motif more. I have the boots, the brown leather flap that hangs between my legs and covers my butt (sort of), the sword, the dagger, the bracers on my forearms, and the leather halter top thing that makes my breasts look amazing.
I study myself in the mirror. I can tell I’ve lost even more weight since the Labor Day party when Kellan almost died bungee jumping. He’s high off his ass if he thinks he’s ever doing THAT again. Not with me around.
Point being that the training and nutrition are working. All the hot sex is helping, too. Spending a lot of time naked makes me want to train and eat right so I can feel confident that I look good naked. It’s a self-reinforcing cycle of thought and action.
The muscles in my shoulders and arms are definitely more defined. My calves look leaner as I put on the boots. My thighs look smaller and tighter, less jiggly. I hate being jiggly.
Kellan knocks on the bathroom door. “Calire? You ready?”
“Ready.” I take a deep breath, hope he doesn’t laugh, and open the door.
We behold one another.
Kellan is dressed as thief Conan, with the black paint across his face and body. He’s wearing brown leather pants and boots and has a massive sword strapped to his hip. He looks amazing, as if he just stepped off the set of the movie. He looks frickin awesome.
We both crack up at the fact that we inadvertently chose matching costumes.
He looks me up and down. “Wow, you look amazing.”
He comes toward me. He traces his fingers all over my bare skin, exploring me.
The next thing I know, we’re on the bathroom floor, devouring one another. He lifts up my leather flap and pulls the leather bikini thing beneath it aside, pushes down his leather trousers, and takes me.
We roll around on the bathroom floor, making love in different positions for over an hour.
By the time we finish, pull ourselves together, drive to Denise’s house, and knock on the door, we’re more than a bit tardy.
Denise is pissed. “You guys are an hour late.” Denise is dressed as a 1920s flapper girl in a tight little sequined dress and a headband with lots of dangly little rhinestone things. Mark is Fred Flintstone.
Denise gets mad and smacks him. “See, I told you we should’ve dressed up as a couple.”
“You didn’t want to be Wilma.”
“No, I didn’t. You should’ve been a gangster with one of those Tommy Hilfiger machine guns.”
“I think you mean a Tommy gun, sweetie.”
Denise slams the rest of her martini. “Whatever.”
Everyone loves our costumes, especially mine. The guys at the party can’t keep their eyes off my boobs. And my legs. Kellan holds my hand most of the time.
Every time we see Denise, she has a fresh martini in her hand. She starts to get flirty with Kellan. She keeps squeezing his arm. Mark has a pretty standard dad-bod, no real muscle mass or definition, a slight beer belly, a farmer tan.
“So, why were you guys an hour late to my party?” Denise asks. “Let me guess. You guys got so turned on by your costumes that you just had to fuck, right? For like, an hour.”
I try not to, but I grin mischievously. Denise’s appraisal is entirely accurate. I’m still a bit fevered. My vagina is wet and slippery. Things got a bit sweaty, too, and our body paint got smeared a little here and there. But I think it actually makes it look more authentic. I wonder if Kellan would like to sleep in this stuff.
“Mark and I haven’t done it for a week,” Denise blurts out. “I need another drink.” Her martini glass is indeed empty. It appears to have chocolate in it.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Godiva chocolate martini. Mark was a bartender before he started selling cars.” Denise stumbles off toward the bar.
People repeatedly ask us to pose for a picture.
Later, Denise does her best to emcee a costume contest, but she’s pretty loaded. Everyone votes by applause and cheering. Kellan and I win. The prize is a weekend for two in San Diego. Denise donated it.
Kellan opens the envelope and looks at the voucher. It’s at a place called The Del Coronado. “Wow, Denise. This is quite a serious prize. Thank you.”
“That’s how I roll, K-Man.”
After the costume contest, there is a limbo contest. Denise and Mark are both very excited about it. She says they’ve been practicing all week.
While everyone else is busy doing the limbo, Kellan leads me into the bathroom. He locks the door, pushes down his trousers, and lifts my flap. We have a quickie on the bathroom counter. My vagina is sore, and after a few minutes I have him lie down on the carpet so I can be on top and can control things. “Remember that first night at your house when we watched Conan and you fell asleep?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“I have a confession to make. While you were asleep, I lifted up your towel and peeked.”
“Did you like what you saw?”
“Very much.”
Rather than getting upset, Kellan kisses me passionately.
I ride him for a couple more minutes, and when he says he’s going to come, I jump off and take him in my mouth. I feel so naughty, so dangerous. His semen tastes so good.
“That was hot,” Kellan says. “Wow. That was…. Wow.”
I feel so empowered.
When we come out of the bathroom, we go to the kitchen to get some water.
Denise sees us.
“You guys missed the limbo. Where have you been?”
“Nowhere.” I try to sound casual.
“Bullshit,” Denise says, “you have semen breath. It smells like…pumpkin pie.” Denise looks over at Mark, who is balancing a beer bottle on his forehead for his friends. His blue Fred Flintstone necktie is now tied around his head. “His tastes like goddamn Clorox.” Denise turns to me and Kellan. “Can I borrow t
he K-Man for about an hour?”
“What for?” I ask.
“To show me how to do kettlebell swings. What do you think?”
I can’t believe she’s starting this shit again. “You want to have sex with him?”
“No! We don’t have to have sex. He can just finger me real hard. Or he can do me in the ass with that monster cock you’re always talking about.”
I’m outraged. “Denise!”
“What? A girl has needs. I need to get my rocks off too, you know.”
At that moment, Mark falls over backward and passes out in the middle of the living room. The party goes on around him. Denise looks on. “Christ.”
LATER THAT NIGHT, when K-Man and I get home, we recreate the sex scene from Conan, minus the attempted murder by the scary witch lady. Kellan lights a fire in the fireplace and I plug in the sparkling Halloween lights and light all the candles.
We begin kissing and make our way to the sectional. We keep our costumes on as best we can while still having access to one another. We do take off our swords and sword belts, however.
As he’s thrusting in and out of me, his beautiful erection wet and glistening, Kellan says, “I’ve never had sex three times in one night. My penis is sore.”
“My vagina is sore, too.”
But we don’t stop.
He slows down, though. He makes love to me very, very slowly.
It turns out to be really hot and erotic. We’re barely moving.
It heightens the sensations.
We make love, oh-so-slowly, for almost an hour before we come together.
THE NEXT MORNING, I awaken in bed to find Kellan reading Goblet. We wound up taking a shower last night before bed in order to scrub off all the body paint. A shower seemed easier than having to launder the three duvets if we were to get black paint on them. We went to bed naked. We’re still naked. Sleeping naked always seemed weird to me. Sleeping naked with Kellan seems like the right thing to do.
“That damn Rita Skeeter,” he says when he sees I am awake. “And frickin Snape.”
I do my best to keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to give anything away.
Today is November 1st. It’s Kellan’s birthday. I ask him what he wants to do today.