Training Harry

by Meghan Namaste

  It took me a moment to figure out what she meant. My mouth went a little slack. “That’s not what’s been going on,” I said carefully. “I’m…happy because my training is going so well. I…have a lot of new clients.”

  “Oh.” My mother looked somewhat embarrassed. “I thought you were off with some girl.”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  My mother stepped back. “Well, I guess you’d better get to your appointments,” she said.

  “Yup.” I turned and fled while I had the chance. I speed-walked to my truck and drove out of there. I had to admit, I felt vaguely guilty.

  Well, it’s true, I justified. I haven’t been off with some girl.

  I kept my speed well within the limit, giving myself time to think. I was slightly unnerved that my mother had come to such accurate conclusions. Nearly accurate conclusions. I wasn’t ready for her to figure it out yet. I wasn’t ready for her to know what was really going on.

  I was in love with Lawrence. I couldn’t believe he felt the same, or some semblance of the same. I couldn’t believe this was still going on. It was magical, and it still felt brand new and thrilling. That was why I was never home anymore. I spent every moment I could with Lawrence. It felt like an addiction, maybe, but it was a good addiction.

  I had never been the type to show off to the masses. I didn’t care about making life into a competition. Maybe I should have wanted to display Lawrence to everyone I knew. Maybe I should have felt the need to advertise what I had. But I didn’t. I loved being with Lawrence. He made me so unbelievably happy. What we had together, with no one else around, was amazing. What passed between us, this new intimacy, felt precious and immaculate. And I wanted to keep it pure, hold onto it desperately, selfishly, for as long as I could. Outside eyes and opinions would only be critical. Some might be hurtful. I didn’t need that, not right now. I only needed this.

  Lawrence

  The morning air was fresh and undisturbed. Beams of sunlight fell through the trees, all around, warming the place. Harry and Vegas celebrated, trotting boldly together. Harry’s head snaked back and forth and he shook himself, full of uncontainable energy. He bounced into a canter and back to a trot, moving in every direction at once. His forelegs struck out at nothing and he leapt and twisted for no reason other than joy.

  I was out front, almost as if I was waiting, when her truck pulled in. Erica found my eyes and held them even through the windshield. “Crazy On You” played from her stereo.

  I rushed forward at the same time she did, and we collapsed into one another, moving desperately into the house, mouths interlocked. We stripped away our clothes in a sort of frenzied blur, hurrying, both needing the same thing right now.

  Without breaking the momentum I reached out and found the album. Praying it was rewound to the right place, I shoved it in my beat-up tape player. I hit play roughly, and after a moment of white noise the opening guitar chords reverberated through the place. Erica looked at me, and neither of us had to say anything.

  The music slid around and danced. Every little shift in direction, every change in intensity hit me somewhere deep inside. I fell softly onto my back and Erica was on top of me, grinding slowly as she took me all the way in. The sunlight was all around now, penetrating every window. It shone on her and I tried to watch every inch of her all at once, laying back in joyous awe as her body swayed and shook. Her breasts moved enticingly, lit up by the full sunlight. I watched her face change as she moved on me, bringing herself closer, and we felt each other, right along with the lyrics.

  The third verse played, the music building up, and we both cried out, right on the verge of being overcome. I grabbed Erica and slowed her eager movement. Not yet. I held her back. I held myself back, feeling that intense, aching need she undoubtedly felt as well. I quivered slightly with the effort, feeling sharp twinges of the climax that was right there but temporarily stalled. The song quieted, leading to the end, and we knew what was coming.

  For a moment we were totally still, and our eyes met. We both tensed. Our eye contact was unwavering. The final chorus began with a bang, reaching a new intensity. I felt the tremors starting and we shook hard, together, with near-perfect timing. My body seemed to be hovering above the mattress, and I didn’t feel the strain in my muscles. In my haze of overpowering sensation I found her face, keeping my eyes there to see the spreading flush, the expressions she made. There was nothing that could compare to the feeling I had when she was coming. It satisfied some deep need I had, filled that space inside me somehow. It made me feel worthy, and I almost never felt that way.

  I watched her come, felt her body fall closer to mine as the last seconds of the song were silenced by our screams of release. I felt that last, powerful contraction and then I dropped heavily into the mattress, pushed down further by Erica’s limp body. We were face to face still and I looked up at her and laughed softly, unbelievably happy. Erica grinned loosely and we just lay like that for a while.

  Eventually I spoke. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” I said.

  “Why haven’t you?” Erica asked, her hand curled gently around my face.

  I was a millimeter away from just telling her I loved her. “Because I never had someone like you.”

  Erica

  I stood in the center of a large circle, with Harry rotating me. His ear flicked about, and he trotted steadily. He was much calmer about the longeing thing now. Harry didn’t really need to be longed at this point, but I wanted to familiarize him with the process. It was always better if a horse could longe.

  I flicked the whip softly behind Harry’s hocks, and he stepped further under himself, rounding his back. “Good boy.”

  “That’s not what you said last night,” Lawrence murmured into my neck. He stood behind me.

  “You are so immature,” I said, attempting toughness, but I was already laughing.

  Lawrence’s hands were wandering purposefully. I was finding it hard to concentrate. Harry blurred at the end of my line, no longer my focus. “I’m supposed to be training, remember?” I said weakly. “You’re making it very difficult.”

  His lips paused at my ear. “Why can’t we just train after?”

  “We tried that last time,” I said, “and there wasn’t any training after, just more sex.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?” Lawrence asked, sending heat all down my body.

  I giggled, and attempted to disengage myself from him without really trying. Harry was still dubiously circling us, and I tugged the line, stopping him. “He longes,” I said with a flourish. “Go put him away.”

  Later, after my clothes were back on, Lawrence came up to me. I was in the entryway, not getting out the door, just stalling. “Do you want to go somewhere?” Lawrence asked me. His voice was soft, almost uncertain. “I feel like I should take you out.”

  I smiled. “That’s so sweet.” I angled myself so I faced him. “But I don’t care about going out,” I assured him. “I don’t care about going to some fancy place. I don’t want to dress up and be all pretentious and shit. I like it here.”

  Lawrence smiled back. “Where I’m thinking…it’s not that kind of place.” He kissed my forehead. “I think you should come with me.”

  I didn’t question him further, and I climbed into the passenger seat of his truck. The interior was warped plastic and ripped vinyl. The speedometer jumped around haphazardly, sometimes just sticking at ten. The brakes shuddered when they were applied. The stereo was good. Lawrence leaned back, skillfully driving me through town with one hand on the wheel. I had never felt safer.

  He parked the truck at a bar in the bad part of town, at least according to my mother. I stepped down from the cab, feeling a slight thrill as I walked in with him. His hand settled at my hip.

  The Old Sportsman Bar and Grill was dingily lit, all rustic and unvarnished inside. Comfortable chairs were randomly arranged at the bar and the dining area. There were no deer heads on the wall, but vivid prints of var
ious big game in the wild. And there was the occasional gun mounted and displayed in a prominent location. It was perfect.

  Several women my mother’s age were working the bar, but I knew they didn’t run in her circle. There was no chance of a run-in with any of her pals, so I was able to relax completely and enjoy my first actual date with the guy I loved. Lawrence stayed by my side the whole time, and I ordered a burger and completely destroyed him in a game of pool.

  Lawrence

  Erica leaned softly on my shoulder as I drove home. The cab of my truck was full of warmth, and it was quiet. Not the isolating, panicky kind, but the absence of unnecessary words. We had other ways of communicating now.

  Erica straightened up. I missed her body heat. I wanted it back.

  “You’re right,” she said. “That was the right kind of place.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “It was the right part of town, too,” she went on. “No chance of being spotted.”

  The conversation had changed on me, suddenly, and I was unsure. I was growing uncomfortable. I wanted to ask a question. I tried to think of one that would get me the answer I needed.

  Erica was looking at me. Something on my face seemed to hit home. “Are you…have you told people about us?” She asked lightly.

  “Yeah.” I looked out at the road. “I did tell Amber.” I told Wilson, too, I realized, but Wilson spoke so little that he didn’t seem worth mentioning.

  Erica nodded. “That’s fine. I don’t think Amber will tell anyone.” She almost looked relieved. Happy and relieved.

  I kept glancing at her until I finally just said what I had to. “Do you…not want people to know about us?” There was a little tremble in my voice that I’d fought so hard to keep out of it.

  Erica’s eyes shot open. She looked almost panicked. I stared through the windshield, frantically guarding myself. I tried not to read too much into her expression. I was in that place where hope was dangerous.

  Erica took my hand in hers. I felt the soft warmth and the haze settled over me. I didn’t trust. I fought it. My hand stayed limp.

  Erica was trying to make eye contact. I gave her little, unwilling glances. “That’s not it at all,” she said. She was stroking my hand, and my fingers twitched, wanting to close around hers.

  Erica was looking down, taking her time. She was either finding the right lie or the right way to say the truth. “I loved going out with you today. I feel so lucky that you’re with me, and that you want to show me off.” She smiled, almost shaking her head a little.

  “You need to understand something. My family - well, my mother, really - is crazy. She is way too invested in my life. Always has been. She tries to set me up, she wants to take me shopping. She means well, but she doesn’t get me. She doesn’t understand what I need.” Erica stopped for a second. “My mother is big into gossip. She gets together with all her friends, and they all talk about people they know. They trash people for stupid reasons. It’s toxic, and it’s petty.”

  “The reason I want to keep this between us is because when my mother finds out, there will be drama. I know she will be surprised, and disappointed that I didn’t choose one of her choices. I don’t care what she thinks.” Erica looked at me straight on. “I don’t. I’m just not ready for the backlash yet. I don’t need the drama. I just want this to be about us. That’s what matters to me. So I‘m just asking that we keep it our secret for now.” She shifted closer to me, tentatively closer. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, and I wrapped an arm around her and held her against me. I let her back in.

  Erica

  I was in my room, packing haphazardly. I tried to think of what I actually needed. Let’s see. Change of clothes, toothbrush. After that, there was nothing that came to mind. I didn’t wear makeup. I didn’t moisturize. I tentatively reached for my nightshirt, drawing my hand back quickly. Why the hell would I need a boring nightshirt? To prove how unsexy I really am? Jeez. I shook my head. I was done packing. I was leaving now.

  I picked up my incredibly light bag and closed the door behind me. I saw my mother waiting at the front of the stairs. My buzz was such that I was impermeable.

  “Have a good time!” She chirped. “Give Ashley my best.”

  “Will do,” I said, and I sidled quickly out the door.

  When I got where I was going I went straight in. Lawrence was leaning over a piece of cake that was perched on the counter. “Hey.” He walked over and kissed me.

  “I’m staying tonight,” I whispered, hoping he would be excited.

  He grinned. “What’d you tell your mother?”

  “She thinks I’m staying at my friend Ashley’s. It’s a long drive back, so I may not get out of your bed ‘til noon.”

  Lawrence moved behind me, and warm chills ran down my body when I felt his breath on my neck. “That sounds amazing.”

  After about ten minutes I was in bed. There was no clock in the whole place, so I had no concept of time, no visual of the passing minutes unless I looked at my cell phone, which I didn’t. It was nice.

  I didn’t feel the need to get up and move around, so I just stayed in Lawrence’s bed. It was a good place to be. I had things brought to me when I was hungry, and I ate a lot of sugar, which rushed around in my bloodstream, messing with the chemicals in my brain. I was in that volatile place, pinging between euphoria and hopelessness.

  We were between rounds, just sitting close in bed. I kept my legs tucked under me, gradually losing circulation. Finally I moved, rising up onto my knees. I looked down for no reason. “God, my thighs are so fat.”

  “I love your thighs,” Lawrence said softly, declaring it without hesitation. His hands slid over my hips, moving lower.

  I was still for a second, processing. My first reaction was to shrink away from the compliment in favor of what I knew. I knew better. He was lying. He was just trying to be nice. But I wavered, because the way he said it didn’t sound like a lie.

  I didn’t get many compliments or reassurances, and the ones I did get were always loaded, or conditional. I avoided my body, my looks. These unavoidable things that were right out in the open, sliding over my skeleton, I avoided. I didn’t like to look at myself, or think about what was out there for everyone to see, uncovered or right underneath my clothes. I had been through too many bad pictures, too many breeches that didn’t fit. Too much fashion that didn’t work on me. I had turned away from that whole aspect of myself, turned to things that I was good at, things I could improve and change. I had forged ahead in my life while trying not to disturb some serious issues. Maybe I needed to think about them, even though the thought of doing so made me almost start shaking. Maybe I needed to let Lawrence compliment me, worship me, change my perception. Maybe I needed to let myself do that.

  Lawrence

  The darkness was closing in. I couldn’t make out the colors around me; they were lost to the night. The room seemed smaller without the light that flooded it all day. Everything felt closer now.

  Erica slid into bed beside me, her face shadowed. She seemed to gather more light than anything else in the room.

  I realized our relationship, up until now, had happened in daylight. Always in daylight. I could remember a few times during Harry’s training when she had stayed until near darkness, doggedly pursuing a breakthrough or comforting Harry when he faced a thunderstorm. But all the rest of our time together had been in bright sunlight. Especially these last weeks.

  Sex was usually all wrapped up in tonight. People went out, found someone, and hooked up, never seeing the person in the light of day if they could help it. Shame had something to do with it, I guess. That and insecurity. People were bolder under dim lighting. They didn’t think so much.

  I had never felt the sleaziness of it all. It had never really affected me, or if it did, I never stopped for long enough to sense it. I kind of got it now.

  This thing with Erica was real. It was more. It wasn’t avoidance, it wasn’t des
tructive. It wasn’t just feeling good. And I loved being with her in the daytime. I loved that she didn’t hide from me. So many girls wouldn’t do it in full sunlight, but she would. Neither of us had ever questioned it. We didn’t need to. This was right. This was healthy. We worked together. We just did.

  Slowly we tangled together, I took an uneven breath and I was inside her, going by feel alone. Our bodies were close, melded together, and her face was right next to mine. I heard her sounds in my ear, her quickened breathing and soft whimpers giving way to moans that built on each other, eventually coming without even a breath in between. Our bones collided as she shook hard and her hands tightened on my back before they relaxed and slowly uncoiled.

  She wasn’t leaving tonight. She didn’t have to reluctantly disengage and drive home. Tonight I wouldn’t fall asleep feeling nothing but the lack of her. We sank into sleep, intertwined, where we’d fallen.

  Erica

  I moved slightly, becoming aware. It was warm, pleasantly so, and I could feel him against me. His shoulder was underneath my head, and I opened my eyes slowly. He was awake, looking at me in that special way. Some might call it “bedroom eyes”, but Lawrence pretty much has that look all the time. This was different, and it was for me.

  I smiled. “I love waking up with you.” I lifted my head and brought myself up to face him. He kissed me, and I let my head rest against his for a long moment.

  The sky outside was still modest in tone. I knew why we were both up. “We should feed the horses,” I said.

  Lawrence was still looking at me. “They can wait.”

  “No, they can’t. You know how they are.” I elevated myself to a sitting position. “Get dressed. I’ll come with you.”

  In a few minutes we were both wearing a modicum of clothing, and we left the house. The air was cool, and we walked close, though we didn’t need the excuse of the chill. Harry saw us from his paddock and trumpeted, sailing around on his limbs, tail and head raised. He stopped at the gate, pushing at it, pawing the earth. Lawrence deliberately shortened his step, and I laughed.