by Leslie Pike
“I prefer to keep it to myself. Because sometimes I can misinterpret what is seen,” I lie.
He doesn’t press for more details.
“Okay. I think it’s impressive that you’re so in touch with your feelings. My mind is usually on a case, or the dog. The hundred things I mean to accomplish in a day. Maybe if I paid more attention to unusual images, I’d know what it feels like. I’m kind of a straightforward man as far as emotions go.”
“That’s a good quality. Know thyself. The ancient Greeks were right.”
I’m rewarded for quoting my favorite maxim with a look that says he likes me. He likes me.
“I knew you were pretty, and that you are a hell of a performer. But Dove, I want to tell you I think no matter how long we talk, I’d never be bored.”
“That may have been the best compliment I have ever had. Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
The server comes to our table and breaks into our conversation.
“Can I take away any plates?”
“I think we’re through. Dove?”
“Yes. It was delicious,” I say to the young man.
“How about dessert? Did you save room?”
I look at Nobel and he nods.
“Definitely. Bring us a menu and I’d like some coffee.”
“Me too.”
“Absolutely,” he says, gathering the dishes.
The server leaves with plates on one arm and our empty wine glasses in his hand.
“Tell me about your career. What kind of law do you practice?” I ask, genuinely interested.
“I’m a Document Review Attorney. Sounds boring, I know. But it has been really rewarding and interesting. To me anyway.”
“What exactly is that? I’ve never heard of the specialty.”
“I evaluate documents for other lawyers. I analyze data to determine if it’s relevant to their particular case,” he says. “I told you. I’m weird.”
“It sounds like you like being internal. Finding how things connect.”
He liked that. Right before smiling, his nostrils flared just a little. Sexy boy.
“You understand,” he says a little surprised. “It’s good because I can work from home. I did the whole downtown office thing for ten years, before I bought the property. Then the draw to stay put was too strong.”
The dessert menus and coffees are placed on the table.
“I recommend our lava cake. But it does take a good twenty minutes to prepare.”
Nobel looks at me. “Shall we be bad?”
I feel my own horns rise. The server waits and watches our dance.
“Let’s.”
This time I twirl my own hair.
* * *
Answer! Answer. I need her take on the latest news. Come on Deborah, I know you’re there.
The click of the connection lifts me.
“Hey gurl,” she says. “How was the house tonight?”
“Quit thinking like a manager and start thinking like my best friend. God, I thought you were missing in action. This is the third time I’ve called this facacta landline.”
“I’m coloring my hair. Didn’t hear it. What’s up? Nobel?”
“It was one date. It’s not like that.”
“What the heck does that have to do with it? I know you. Do not forget who caught you and my brother with your pants down. Maybe that’s when he figured out he was gay!” She laughs hysterically at her own joke.
“There is the small part of the story you’re leaving out. We were five.”
“Details. He’s still a horn dog. You’re still the same girl. Me too. We don’t really change from our young selves.
“True. He was checking out the guy in the front row tonight.”
“Of course he was. They probably already did it. So how was the date? Did you have fun?”
I kind of melt into the memory.
“Oh, it was really, really, really fantastic. He’s such a cool guy, Deborah. Smart, and nice. Sexy as hell.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. How come you’re home so early?”
“It was a long day. Besides, Nobel has a sick dog and she needs medicine at certain intervals. The dog is terminal.”
“Ohhh. That’s so sad.”
“They’re best friends. I kinda love that he’s that way.”
“Did he try to hookup?”
“There were signs he wanted to. But desires were controlled.”
“Why? Boom chicka boom,” she sings.
“I can’t put it in words. Except to say it’s like it was too important to rush.”
I hear the intake of her breath. “God. Did you see something?”
My friend knows me well.
“Maybe. But I may have been wanting it so much that I created the vision.”
“I’m not buying it. You have never misread things before.”
She’s got a point.
5
Nobel
Our phone conversations are getting good. I have wanted to be the guy who says all the right things. Who wears confidence like a perfectly tailored suit. What man doesn’t? But in the past talking romance when you are in two different places hasn’t seemed natural. When your default setting is invisible, you can’t easily reset. I’m more the guy to prove his worth in person.
Dove is playful and never shies away from my feeble attempts at bringing up the fact we need to fuck. The urge has overtaken us both. We have danced around the elephant in every room. In prior conversations, with other women, I always have had to involve alcohol. My words sounded flat and it took me out of the moment. With her it’s different. I put a crumb out and she picks it up and makes a soufflé.
Words are all we have. Date number two waits in the wings. The band’s two week trip to Nashville for a booking has made calls mandatory. With each one we stretch the boundaries of decency. She seems to be enjoying it as much as I am, and that is one appealing quality. Being indecent is highly underrated in women. But they are the only ones that misjudge the advantage over us drooling primates. Men are aware.
In the meantime, one restrained kiss will have to hold. Never went so slow in my life. Not at any age. There hasn’t been reason enough to wait. Until now. It sucks to know it is part of our story, because the risk of losing the moment is real. Wouldn’t want to be a man forgotten before I give her a reason to be remembered.
At first, I attempted controlling the voice of my libido. No matter how loud he was, I was in charge. Calls were once a day and involved news of her recording session of the band’s latest original. I asked all the right questions and showed the genuine happiness I feel for them. That business is brutal. She told me that. Yet it’s who she is and where she wants to be. I’m going to support her just as I want to be supported in my interests. The difference is mine take place in my house in front of a computer screen and hers involve the public.
I didn’t want to look like I feel, completely taken. Nobody likes someone who pushes too hard. Needy is not a good look. But why rein in the part of me that feels so fucking great when we talk? Not to mention a dick aggressively reminding me to think of sex with the golden goddess. Like an annoying kid tugging on my sleeve, I ignore him constantly.
It’s more than sex. I like how she laughs and the way the sound pulls you into her joy. There is a lightness about her that can’t be ignored. And it’s more than her youth. The conclusion I have arrived at, is there has been something missing in my life. Don’t exactly know how to describe the indescribable thing she brings.
Sitting between all the lofty thoughts is the realization I need to fuck her. Need being the operative word. A literal ache is involved, and the cure is Dove. In a kind of weird sense, I know it would be almost …no, don’t even think that.
Pushing hesitation aside, the word spiritual pops up like a neon sign blinking on and off. Never will I say that aloud. It sounds like a guy trying to sell the idea the physical and spiritual are connected just to get laid. I am not. This i
s the first I have believed in the concept and I don’t know what to do with the information.
If we hadn’t already talked twice today, I would be calling again. Instead, I use my waning self-control and get ready for sleep. That is the only way to stop thinking about the girl.
The cell sounds. Dove.
“This is a surprise. A good one,” I say, happy as shit.
“Thought I’d call you for a change.”
“I was just getting in bed. Perfect timing.”
“Me too.”
I pause for a beat, before jumping into the deep end.
“Wish we were together. I could tuck you in.”
“Tuck me?” she says with a naughty tone, followed by a giggle. “Sure that’s what you meant to say?”
Here’s the moment.
“Did I say tuck? I meant fuck.”
The giggle turns into laughter, and I join in.
“At least you didn’t hang up, and report me to the authorities,” I say.
Slowly, our laughter quiets.
“Now why on earth would I do that?” Dove says in soft tones. “Don’t you know I want to be with you too?”
Immediately my dick reacts with a sharp lift. The sheet moves. I stroke myself.
“Get your ass home, woman. When do you land?”
“Tomorrow at two-thirty.”
“Let me pick you up. Can you spend the night?”
“Yes.”
Alert the media! No. I need to act like that wasn’t the best news of the world. Be cool!
“We’ll swing by your house and get your things.”
“Don’t have to. I’ll have them with me. I’m going to be naked ninety percent of the time anyway. I won’t need much.”
The world stops spinning. And somewhere the male angels in my crew shout a hallelujah and fist bump all around.
“Dream a little dream of me,” she says as we end the conversation.
As if I would do anything else.
* * *
The last eighteen hours have passed like a snail crawling on cold cement. Like a sloth climbing a tree. Like me knowing I’m about to have sex with the most desirable woman I’ve ever known. Time is moving slow as fuck.
I have never been so ready. Not the first time I had sex, or even as a boy dreaming of things outside his reach. My dick has now become speaker of the house.
“Where are you?” I say, scanning the area outside baggage claim.
Talking to the air has become more common lately. Before I left the house, I said excuse me to King Kong when I accidentally stepped on the toy. Maudie looked at me like I was crazy. I blame it on distraction that won’t be denied. If ever a female was distracting, it’s Dove.
I spot her as she comes out the wide glass doors, blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. Those jeans look like she was sewn into them, hugging beautiful curves. Syrup on pancakes close. It’s the opposite of the airy loose blouse that hints at treasures just underneath. It’s not exactly see through, but close. A deep V allows for a peek inside I bet. If you were at the right angle. Those are nipples I sort of see, areolas too. At least a shadow of them. Implying she is braless. Get your ass in the car so I can confirm my suspicions.
Two of the band members are with her. That Tony guy puts a bejeweled hand on her back and they exchange cheek kisses. I don’t like him. A familiarity hints at a back story. But I have no idea if it’s an old lover or just a friend. Fucker. Just in case he has designs on rekindling a romance, I am keeping an eye out. The Invisible Man is watching you, dude.
Now Jimmy seems like a standup guy. He’s the one who writes songs with her. As far as I can see he’s the quiet one. Like me. His goodbye is more in the friend zone. There are no kisses from him. Just a pat on her shoulder before walking away. The judge inside me bangs the gavel. I’ll allow it.
As they walk off, Dove turns and spots the car. A wide smile lifts perfectly shaped lips. She runs to me as I put the car in Park and get out. Arms encircle each other. There are no words, just eyes speaking volumes. You would think we were lovers separated for years. With her face in my hands, I run my thumb over her full bottom lip. I take the long-awaited kiss.
Everything other than the two of us fades. The tired kid screaming for his mother, and the announcement over the loudspeaker. Travelers waiting to be picked up by friends become a misty backdrop. There’s only her mouth against mine, and the feeling of a consequential piece of life falling into place.
“I’ve just been kissed for the first time.”
Wood lit. Bonfire.
“Let’s get out of here.”
A half hour and a thousand feelings later we are well on our way. Highway 15 never seemed so fucking long. Somehow the road has lengthened overnight. Like a giant picked it up and stretched it just to piss me off. The illusion seems real. Just my dick’s luck to be stuck behind an old van. It scales the elevation like an overweight mountain climber with bad vision. Come on, people!
I make a quick decision to change lanes. Passing the slow as shit car in front of us reveals a happy family of five. They’re actually singing to some upbeat unheard song. Three kids in the backseat seem to know the lyrics. Hand signals accompany the music. Being pissed at their speed proves my faulty reasoning. Lust has invaded the thought process, pushing aside better angels.
“Are we almost there?” She says it like a kid approaching Disneyland.
Enthusiasm is appreciated. It’s what I’m feeling too.
“Five minutes more,” I say, looking at her face. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you are?”
“No.” She grins.
“Well it’s true.”
“Want a little preview?” An eyebrow raises for emphasis.
My dick weighs in its unanimous consent.
“God yes.”
Pink painted fingers roll up the hem of the blouse. Slowly. While she hums the stripper’s theme song. Fuck, it’s got me mesmerized. Bronzed skin, flat stomach. Oh, a belly chain. That’s hot as hell. My hand reaches out and jiggles the delicate golden chain. Just a few more inches until the big reveal.
Right when I’m about to get a glimpse of the twin treasures, the van behind me honks its frustration. Shit! A glance at the speedometer confirms the stats. I’m only going thirty. Now I’m the mountain climber blocking their ascent. I add one descriptive word. The horny mountain climber.
Dove starts chuckling, and it’s contagious. The blouse returns to its rightful place, covering her breasts.
“Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. Let’s just get to your house in one piece.”
I make the turn onto the property and from the rearview mirror I see the family continue their happy journey. If little cartoon birds were surrounding the van tweeting an accompaniment I would not be surprised. And something more. For the first time I feel the call of that kind of joy. Maybe it does exist.
No more fucking around. Get to it, man. I start removing my sweater. Holding the steering wheel with my knees, I maneuver one arm free and then the other. Over my head. It gets tossed in the back. At first, I have an audience. Until I move to the buttons on my shirt. Then I am joined in the unveiling. Dove kicks off her shoes then unbuttons and unzips the jeans. What? You’ll play? Oh yeah! This woman gets more inside my head with every new thing learned.
When my shirt falls to the seat, she runs fingers over my chest. It’s fucking exhilarating. The feel of a delicate hand brushing my nipples is like a feast to the starving man. I reach between her legs. My middle finger traces the seam, up and back. Up and back.
“I can’t wait to kiss those lips.”
She lifts and pushes down the denim, revealing a delicate white lace triangle that covers what I want to see. She is out of the pants and watching my face as she does it. There’s some happy little tune accompanying the reveal. I cannot speak. Excitement has rendered me mute. My heart is about to explode. 911 emergency.
Her seat gets reclined, and one silky leg lifts and a foot settles on the dashboard. Sh
e runs a finger over her slit, to tease. Mission accomplished. Then she pulls back the panties. The bush is gone, and in its place the most gorgeous smooth pussy awaits my touch. I have never been with a woman so free. Oh God. Her eyes lower and then lift to mine.
“Want to kiss them now?”
In the history of rhetorical questions, that is number one. I stop the car where it is, alongside the field of grass and riotous wildflowers. I can see the corner of the house, but it might as well be miles away in another county. Shutting the motor off, I unbuckle the seatbelt, and head for heaven. I take in the clean scent of her, before my tongue finds the softness and fingers part the way. A pink, wet, welcoming thing of beauty awaits the lustful attention I have to give. Glistening juices are beginning to show.
“Your sweet pussy.”
That’s all I can get out before going back in.
“Ohhh. Lick me,” she sighs, head resting against the seat.
I do as asked. As demanded by every impulse. My will to please her is great. Want her to want me in equal measure. Taste number one. The pink clit is poking out of the hood. Undeniably the center of the Universe. The tiny marble that sits on the throne demands my attention. Even though we just met a minute ago. I worship her with my mouth, tongue, and lips and absorb the sounds made by her pleasure. A moan that will never be forgotten. An intake of breath. So real and raw.
When our eyes meet she grabs a fistful of my hair. “Show me your cock.”
The words spill out of luscious lips. Then, she giggles. It’s a command I follow, raising my hips and pulling down my jeans and boxer briefs all in one. A grateful dick escapes the bondage of my pants and lifts in her honor. Luckily, I do not come empty-handed. Fingers encircle me and just the touch alone is so exciting a bead of cum appears as evidence. There’s surprise on her face.
“That’s what you do to me.”
Licking it off, she shows me the proof.
“Nectar of the gods.”
“That’s it. Get out of the car,” I command.
We’re laughing at our impatience. I need to fuck her. She needs to fuck me. Here on a grassy bed, against the hard metal of the car or in the backseat. Before we combust. Or I prematurely ejaculate and she spontaneously orgasms. It could happen.