by Cj Paul
I fall asleep – in love.
Chapter Thirty-One“Frailty, thy name is woman.” ~William Shakespeare
The first time I read those words describing Hamlet’s mother, Gertrude, I remember looking down my nose at her, and regarding her with a plaintive opinion, at best. I viewed the ease and speed with which she married the brother of her recently deceased husband as betraying a weakness of character and lack of morals. Ah, with what facility do we judge when taking in the Bard’s words for the first time in high school English class? And now, more than a score of years later, I find my character to be no nobler than Gertrude’s.
I am in love.
At least I think I am.
Frankly, I’m not sure.
Alex is everything I could ever want – everything other than being three thousand miles away. The way he and I relate is so unlike anything I’ve ever known. It feels so grounded, so authentic, in the way the universe’s firstborn stars are authentic. My walks in the woods have yielded no insight as to what is going on within me. I turn to the menagerie for counsel. They suggest naps, treats and tummy rubs. But for the first time, I find their guidance to be lacking. Perhaps I didn’t pose my question properly.
I even go so far as to consult a chakra chart in search of answers as to the part of me Alex touches most. The answer is the full color spectrum. He appeals to my every need, taste and desire.
I realize my mom’s not the only one who’s ‘fallen.’ I have too. But, ‘will I be able to get up’ is the question. And do I even want to?
* * *
David has another multi-day meeting in San Jose coming up shortly. Or so he says. I harbor suspicions that he is most likely going away to be with some hottie femme fatale, and, if that’s the case, why doesn’t he just move out? Sure, I appreciate his help with Mom, but if he feels the need to go ‘get some,’ then he can just do it at a place of his own. I know my attitude is snarky and most likely unfair, but I can’t seem to stop myself and, what’s more, I don’t understand it. What would my show fans think if they knew their sage host was full of beans?
Beans – that reminds me, I haven’t heard back from bombshell Kelly Putnam about the match I tried to set up between her and Alex’s Facebook contact, Ken Warner. Ken is a sweet character, and on a quest to find the perfect beans for his chili, in hopes of clinching his area’s annual cook-off competition. Just the thought of chili makes me smile – or rather, the thought of it on Bret’s high-priced jeans. There was a moment of hesitation on my part before that messy ‘accident’ with the chili cheese dogs at the hockey game. But, I quickly reasoned that since I’d bought four magnificent chili-cheese wonders, there would still be two left for David and one for me – so, the culinary sacrifice would be well worth it. And it was.
My thoughts return to Kelly and I decide to send her a quick message inviting her to call in to tomorrow’s show and let me know how she’s getting on. I am delighted when she does so, and am thoroughly enjoying answering her relationship questions, until my Mom finds the wherewithal to barge into the sunroom where I am broadcasting and put her two cents in. She makes a point to mention that I am a hack, having no love life of my own, and that as a woman widowed after more than forty years of marriage she is a much better love doctor. I am mortified.
After the show, I immediately begin to strategize how to handle the damage control. To my chagrin, messages come flooding in about Mom, and across the board everyone loves her. She is an instant hit! She cattily tells me that if I want to have a more successful show, I should feature her. Worse yet, I can’t deny that she’s right. My popular “You Could Be the One” segment has been commandeered, and at her insistence, renamed “Claire’s Mom Knows Better.”
* * *
It’s Mom’s first official week as a talk show love-life expert extraordinaire. Her caller asks how a woman can really know if a man is right for her, if he’s ‘the one.’ There’s that phrase again. My thoughts go straight to Alex. Funny, he is the man in my life, and though Mom is living with me, she has no idea he even exists. My daydreaming is cut short when I realize Mom is answering the caller’s question by relating how pitiful my own love life is.
“My daughter has the handsomest, dreamiest, kindest and most loving man under her roof, and she treats him like yesterday’s newspaper. He’s all but thrown himself at her and what does she do? She holes herself up in her room and futzes around on Facebook. It’s a crying shame, I tell you.”
David? All but throwing himself at me? Hardly. Clearly, the ole girl’s gone ‘round the bend. And yet... I shrug the notion off, not wanting to even go there.
Mom’s leg has been healing nicely, and she has become quite adept at getting around using a walker. Right after today’s show, she announces she has decided to go on ‘vacation’ while David is gone next week, and that the show will just have to go on without her. I explain that I’ve already promoted the topic for the next show – a little white lie – and that people are expecting her on air. “That’s showbiz,” she says dramatically, now considering herself a veteran of the industry.
It’s actually fun to see Mom so excited – excited about the show, as well as about going back to the retirement home. She misses her cronies at Redwood Meadows and has arranged to stay in one of the facility’s guesthouses as a mini retreat. The bulk of her possessions are still in storage there, and she wants to rummage through her photo albums. Her objective is to gather some snapshots from her youth, in order to show Dahveed what a looker she was back in the day. I offer to go with her, but she makes it clear that she wants Dahveed to take her and pick her up. And that while there, she wants to enjoy her time with friends without her dour daughter raining on everyone’s parade. What’s more, she’s taking the menagerie with her! She says that having “fluffy bundles of love” around will really lift the spirits of her crew at ‘The Meadows,’ and I have to admit, I think it’s a splendid idea.
Once again, I have the place to myself. And once again, I love it! I’m really looking forward to some uninterrupted time with Alex. And I’m finally getting up the nerve to videochat. I already pulled a Mom maneuver and shared with him a photo or two from my own hot-little-number glory days, but I still fear my looks might send him running for the hills. It’s silly and neurotic and I know it. It’s also unfair to even consider that something as fleeting as youthful physical beauty could in any way alter Alex’ feelings. Still, my insecurities are screaming. But I‘m getting there, albeit at Daphne’s pace.
The first morning David and Mom are gone, Alex and I chat on speakerphone, which we’ve not done in ages. Sadly, I must cut our time short. I have a show the next day and still have not even thought of the topic yet, merely listing ‘Theme: Surprise’ on my website. I have really been slacking at work, though my primary sponsor, Siren School, has never been happier with the show, calling my mom’s involvement a ‘stroke of genius.’ Begrudgingly, I bid Alex goodbye, promising to come back as soon as the show is planned. I head to the kitchen for a cup of Empress vanilla tea and hear a welcome ping alerting me to a Facebook message. Surely it can’t be from Alex. We just said goodbye. But secretly, I hope it is.
8:42am
Alexander Armstrong
You know, my siren and muse, if you were here right now, in the flesh, before I let you have space to do your work I'd have you straddle me, and wrap your legs and arms around me, and take you in my arms, and kiss you long, and sweetly and passionately. I'd pull your body into me with my strong arms, feel your nipples tickle my chest, kiss your neck, your breasts, tug you against my rising body with my hands on your ass, mashing our bodies together. And I'd savor your skin and mouth and all of you until we were both ready to tear each other's clothes off. And then I'd let you work, in anticipation of even more attention that I'd lavish on you later. Giving you something to look forward to, and for me to look forward to, while we both smiled, working, even more motivated to complete our tasks so we could savor each other with abandon, later in the da
y. TTYS The only possible response that I can have to you, My Love, is love. Je t'adore.
Ugh! How on earth am I supposed to concentrate on work after that? I try thinking of every awful and sobering image that will take my mind off my loins:
The Titanic...
The burning of the Library at Alexandria…
Dead puppies!
There, that does the trick. I give Persephone a doggie treat, just because, and knuckle down to work. Within a short time, I’m all done with show prep, and feeling mightily triumphant, I share a photo of a lion on my Facebook wall that has as its caption a beloved Whitman quote from Leaves of Grass:
I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world.
And with that, I snap my laptop closed, grab my iPhone and get ready to go for a walk – something I never do. But this is just the time of year for it. I lace up my trekking shoes, throw on a coat, flip my collar up, pull on my beret and head out. I’ve had a sublime ten minutes alone with nature when my phone buzzes.
ALEX: Rawrrrrrrrrr!!!!!
Ha! I take it he’s seen my Facebook post.
ALEX: Come over here and take off my clothes and lick the salt from my body, Cariña.
ME: YES!!!!!!!!!!! I would love that. How do you always know just what to say?
ALEX: Because I love you.
ME: Huh.......... and I thought it was cuz you're perfect ;D
ALEX: The only thing perfect about me, is you.
ME: Oh you smoothy you!
ALEX: LOL You make me hard!
ME: You make me come
ME: ...plete
ALEX: LMAO
ME: …...ly happy
ALEX: You're amazing! And if you knew how many lovely, sweet, erotic, passionate and reckless ways I've already ravaged you in my mind, you'd either slap me, or leap on me.
ME: Hey my mom is calling. I’ll be right back.
Forty-five minutes later, I am able to get off the phone, thanks to my phone display flashing ‘low battery.’ Once the call, is over I see I have a text waiting.
ALEX: Ahem. Since you’re slacking on that tongue bath, you leave me no choice – I’m lifting you from below your ass, throwing you over my shoulder, bringing you to the recliner, and setting you on my lap. Now, start by kissing me. Lick my face. Lick my neck. Then take off my shirt. Lick your way down my chest to my abdomen. Now slide to your knees at my feet so you can pull off my jeans. Work your way down. And try not to miss any spots, and don't forget to take off your clothes for me, nice and slow.
ME: Yes, Sir
And with that, my phone dies a quiet little death, or rather, le petit mort.
Chapter Thirty-TwoIt’s my last night with the house to myself, and wouldn’t you know, it’s also the first board meeting of the year for the ballet company. When we convene, the primary order of business is the books. Last year’s treasurer had used some sort of sketchy accounting program that resulted in our being more than thirty thousand dollars in the hole. Alex and I are confabbing via Facebook as the secretary reads the minutes. Everyone thinks I’m taking notes on the proceedings, which gets me off the hook and allows me to continue to play with Alex. I whine to him about both the ineptitude of the past treasurer and how unbearably drawn out the meeting is. The board spends half an hour discussing whether or not we should purchase expensive accounting software that we don’t have the money for. Heck, we no longer have money for anything. The meeting’s getting tense.
Alex texts that he was given the most powerful and easy to use bookkeeping program available. It is way out of our budget, but he graciously offers to donate it to the company. The new treasurer is elated. The assistant president, incredulous. The newest board member is worried about being too hasty and thinks we should put a committee together to fully research all the options. And the whole meeting comes to an impasse.
8:07pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Sigh. At the rate we’re going this meeting is going to last through the entire ballet season. We keep going over the same ground over and over. I fear I may commit a violent act.
8:08pm
Alexander Armstrong
Breathe, Cariña. Everything happens as it’s meant to.
8:09pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Pardon? What do you mean, hon?
8:09pm
Alexander Armstrong
When you're blindfolded and pinned to the bed, you'll discover exactly what I mean. Patience.
8:10pm
Claire Nichole Eden
I have none
8:12pm
Alexander Armstrong
Then I guess I'll have to tie you, too. And then I'll teach you the meaning of sweet anticipation, before I satisfy your every lust.
8:13pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Lust shmust I'm a goodie goodie
8:15pm
Alexander Armstrong
Lust shmust? You ARE a goodie goodie. And that's hot! But you're also naughty. And we both know it.
8:15pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Why Dr. Armstrong...what ever do you mean (said coyly with a Suthuhn accent)
8:16pm
Alexander Armstrong
I mean, missy, I might just have to sit you on my lap and have a long, hard talk with you.
8:17pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Do what you must
8:17pm
Alexander Armstrong
Oh, I shall.
First you'll need to take off that thong you're wearing. Wouldn't want you to be too restricted.
8:19pm
Claire Nichole Eden
And what if I won't?
8:19pm
Alexander Armstrong
Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.
8:20pm
Claire Nichole Eden
AHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH
8:19pm
Alexander Armstrong
I'd lift your dress and tear it off.
8:21pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
8:22pm
Alexander Armstrong
It's good that you're purring now. It won't be quite as easy when your mouth is full. Though I welcome your efforts.
8:22pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Heeheeheehee
8:24pm
Alexander Armstrong
Less chat. Turn your back to me, lift your dress, and sit on my naked lap.
Reach your hand between your legs and slide me against you.
8:24pm
Claire Nichole Eden
No
8:25pm
Alexander Armstrong
Ok then. No means no.
8:25pm
Claire Nichole Eden
:(
8:25pm
Alexander Armstrong
LMAO Gotcha
8:25pm
Claire Nichole Eden
I meant "no *wink*"
8:26pm
Alexander Armstrong
I know what you meant. Resistance is futile. I have my hands on your hips, and if you refuse, I'll lift you and slide you against me by strength.
8:27pm
Claire Nichole Eden
......................ok
8:27pm
Alexander Armstrong
I'll spread your legs, and push you down on me, and manhandle you in every way imaginable.
8:28pm
Claire Nichole Eden
More
8:29pm
Alexander Armstrong
Feel me inside you. Lifting you with my thighs, pulling you down on me by your hips. Feel my hand in your hair, tugging.
8:29pm
Claire Nichole Eden
You have 3 hands?
8:29pm
Alexander Armstrong
I have more than that.
8:29pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Heeheeheehee
8:31pm
Alexander Armstrong
Enough of this silliness. Standing up while still inside you, bending you over the arm of the couch, thrusting hard and deliberately, with your hair wrapped around my wrist. My hand gripping your ass.
8:32pm
Claire Nichole Eden
*smile*
8:32pm
Alexander Armstrong
Teasing your ass, I lick a finger to slide it inside your other opening. I want to hear you moan and beg and scream.
8:33pm
Claire Nichole Eden
And just where did that finger go?
8:33pm
Alexander Armstrong
Just be quiet and enjoy it. If you have something to say, say it in breathless moans.
I pull your hair to see your eyes wide and glazed while we lose control
8:34pm
Claire Nichole Eden
Moooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
8:35pm
Alexander Armstrong
That's better. Feel our bodies smashing together. Listen to the symphony of our sex.
Feel my adamant erection swollen, ready to erupt, pumping you full of hot come.