Him

by Cecilia Scott

‘If I was wearing a red hooded cape I could be Little Red Riding Hood,’ I teased.

  ‘I certainly could be the Big Bad Wolf.’

  THE BOY and I began walking up to the top of the hill. Once there he laid the comforter down. I stood, looking first at the ocean and then at the mountains. It was a beautiful day. I put the picnic basket down.

  THE BOY came up to me. ‘Could you just stand where you are for a while?’ he asked. ‘I know this is weird but I just want to look at you for a while. I want to remember exactly how you looked in that beautiful dress on top of this mountain before I fucked your brains out.’

  ‘Well, you were poetic up to the last sentence,’ I said. But I stood there and let him look at me. It was enthralling to see his desire in his eyes.

  ‘You’re more a Goddess than a fairy-tale character. You are a true Goddess with your voluptuous body. Your breasts are beyond anything. I think I will live a long life but I doubt I will ever meet another woman who has your breasts. It’s not just their shape, it’s their weight, and the way they feel.’

  ‘That’s so sweet but you can open up any Playboy magazine and see the same thing,’ I said.

  ‘You might be right. But these breasts are the ones I’ve become so intimate with. I love them. I love them. I love them so much.’

  And then he came up to me. He slowly unbuttoned the front of the dress and carefully unhooked my bra until my breasts were exposed. I could feel the faintly salty air coming up from the ocean. He took one of my breasts into his mouth and sucked on it as if his life depended upon it. Then moved on to the other. His movements became softer as he flicked his tongue over one of my nipples. I was pretty sure he did it because he knew that I’d be able to come quickly just from the sensation. He flicked his tongue just so, following a rhythm, and gently brought me to orgasm. It was the softest of feelings. I fluttered inside. He brought me to orgasm again. And again. He took the other nipple into his mouth and carefully used his tongue to continue to bring me to orgasm. I gasped and fell against him. He let me. We stood there for a long time.

  ‘Listen,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘I know we should have the salad before the strawberries but I was wondering whether it would be OK if you took off your dress and lay down on the comforter. I’d like to put some of the strawberries on your body.’

  I did as he asked and lay there while he carefully placed the berries on my body. The last berry on my pussy. I watched as he undressed and carefully bent over me. He’d zero in on a strawberry, careful to kiss my skin around it, before bringing it to his lips and eating it. Several times he’d take the strawberry into his mouth then bring it to mine. Sometimes we’d eat the strawberry together, always laughing.

  Finally the sole strawberry left was the one on my pussy.

  ‘My oh my,’ he said. ‘What do we have here?’

  ‘You’re starting to sound like the Big Bad Wolf.’

  ‘You can never fool a literature prof.’ He picked up the strawberry and popped it into his mouth.

  Once he’d eaten it he looked at me and said solemnly, ‘I’m afraid the berries are gone, my dear. I guess I’m going to have to make love to you instead.’

  ‘Yes indeed.’

  And then he lay on top of me. I looked up at the glorious sky. We were tender with one another. We took turns kissing each other’s bodies. Finally he entered me.

  ‘You are my Goddess, my Goddess, my Goddess,’ he moaned as he came deep inside me.

  I began crying.

  When he had recovered from the sex, he looked at me, a worried expression on his face.

  I sat up. I could see he was still gazing at me intently but I couldn’t stop crying.

  ‘This can’t last,’ I sobbed. ‘It can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘For every reason under the sun. We’re doomed.’

  ‘Hush,’ he said. ‘You’re just overcome by emotion.’

  ‘That’s kind of a pun, isn’t it? I am overcomed. C-u-m-m-e-d.’

  ‘Shh, my Goddess. I adore you. This has been an extraordinary day for us. Let’s just stay in the moment.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said, lying down, facing him. ‘I think you’re right, though. This was just so amazing, it scared me a little bit.’

  ‘Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful woman. I’m not going anywhere.’

  17

  And then it was HIM again, HIM …

  But the years came and went without bringing the careless boy; and when they met again Wendy was a married woman, and Peter was no more to her than a little dust in the box in which she had kept her toys.

  J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan

  In the weeks to come there was a schism between THE BOY and me. I believe I’d hurt him deeply with my tears on top of the mountain. I wasn’t sure how to make it up to him. I spent hours trying to figure out why I’d cried that day. It seemed to me that in many ways my tears were tears of joy. Since Jake, no one had treated me with such kindness. But at the same time I felt more and more aware of THE BOY’s circumstances. Could I really stay with him indefinitely? He still had a long way to go to become independent and I didn’t know whether he would ever catch up with me. He loved being on the swim team, and, while he was one of their best swimmers, he didn’t see himself competing past college. He wanted to be an environmental engineer but he had years and years of training in front of him.

  THE BOY had pocket money from his parents and Sam had begun to give him various projects so he’d have a bit more money in the bank. But I couldn’t help seeing an irony in the fact that I’d been dating an international lawyer who could buy me designer clothing and jewellery that cost more than my monthly salary. THE BOY was a much kinder, gentler man than HIM. There was no comparison. But there was a part of me that wanted a man. A real man. A man who could take care of me. I’d recall the promise HIM had made repeatedly – he’d buy me a small cottage near the beach near HIM so I could write full-time. It seemed a hollow promise. He’d been so inconsistent about seeing me. But perhaps if I held my breath, if I could convince HIM to fall in love with me …

  I am sure THE BOY knew my thoughts were going in this direction, but he was a good sport. He still came over most evenings. Sometimes he’d drop off his stuff at my place and run over to Sam’s duplex. They were working on a variety of projects and Sam was teaching him everything he knew about engineering. THE BOY was getting more of an education hanging out with Sam than he was at school. I didn’t begrudge their burgeoning friendship. Sam was a lonely old man. THE BOY could use a mentor.

  Sometimes, when THE BOY was not at my house, I’d get an earful from Sam. He’d tell me I was breaking THE BOY’s heart. I should call it off so as to not hurt THE BOY any further.

  ‘You’re not my dad,’ I’d tell Sam defensively.

  ‘Yes, I am. I am the closest thing you have to a father and you know it.’

  I couldn’t argue the point.

  But I hated it when Sam was right.

  One late afternoon I was grading papers in my school bungalow, waiting for THE BOY to come back from his swim team practice. I heard a text come through on my phone and thought that maybe he was texting me to tell me he was going to be late or some such thing. I was more than a little disappointed to see that it was the department head. Uggh.

  DEPARTMENT HEAD: Can we do another lunch mtg tomorrow?

  ME: Sure. What’s it about?

  DEPARTMENT HEAD: Just want to talk. See you tomorrow.

  ME: Same time?

  DEPARTMENT HEAD: Yes.

  When THE BOY showed up a couple of minutes later in the classroom, I was agitated. He tried to kiss me, but I pulled away.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ THE BOY asked.

  ‘I’m feeling a bit sick. I hate to do this to you, but do you mind if we just hang out here for a couple of minutes? I want to go home and crawl into bed.’

  ‘Without me?’ THE BOY asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Boo hoo.’ THE BOY came over to me. He bent down t
o kiss me. I turned away.

  ‘Is everything OK with us?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. No worries. I’m a real pill when I feel sick. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ I stood up, gathering my papers.

  THE BOY grabbed my breasts and squeezed them.

  I turned to him and let him hug me. I could feel his hard-on.

  We kissed for a couple of minutes.

  ‘I’ll make it up to you the next time we’re together. I promise.’

  ‘Like what?’

  I laughed. ‘I’m not sure but I’ll think of something.’

  * * *

  I had no appetite when I met with the department head for lunch the following day. I sipped on an iced tea. I could tell from her expression that she was unhappy with me.

  ‘I need to let you know that there are reports that you’re involved with one of the students on campus.’

  I raised my eyebrows and grimaced. ‘Why would I do that? I know the consequences.’

  ‘What is your relationship with THE BOY?’

  ‘Well, he’s a good student. He’s getting an A in the class.’

  ‘The swim coach said that THE BOY has been bragging about having a sexual relationship with an older woman. The coach thought it was you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He saw THE BOY heading towards your bungalow after swim practice a couple of days ago.’

  ‘THE BOY’s parents are about to get a divorce. He’s been coming over periodically after practice to talk about it. I’m not sleeping with him.’ This was a blatant lie. According to THE BOY his parents were very happy together.

  ‘Well, I think you might want to refer him to the counselling office. He can find a counsellor there to help him with the problems he’s having with his parents.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. Listen, it’s all above board. Trust me. I love working here – I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise that.’

  ‘Dear, we love your work and the students adore you. I know you’ve had a tough time since your mother died. I lost my mom not that long ago. It’s terrible. I was luckier. My mom lived until she was in her mid eighties. But you need to put more effort into your job.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said meekly. I excused myself. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  When THE BOY came to the bungalow after practice I told him about my meeting with the department head.

  ‘You’ve been talking about me?’ I asked him.

  ‘No, absolutely not. Well, I told my friend Pete I was sleeping with an older woman but I said it was a lady I met at Starbucks.’

  ‘I guess the swim coach overheard you talking.’

  ‘Yikes.’

  ‘So let’s not meet at school any more. I’ll give you a key to my duplex.’

  ‘OK. Can I come over tonight?’

  ‘Yes.’

  * * *

  We survived that evening, making passionate love to one another despite the department head’s warnings and my own concern about the future of our relationship. THE BOY and I continued to have a lot of fun in and out of bed. He’d still come over begging for a breast-worshipping session and we made love incessantly.

  We’d both enjoyed our fantasy about Little Red Riding Hood. It had started out as a joke when we’d gone to the mountains but now we played it out on many occasions. We went so far as to go to a costume store where I bought a Little Red Riding Hood outfit for me and a Big Bad Wolf costume for him. We played out the fantasy over and over. It always ended with the two of us falling into each other, making amazing love to one another, laughing our heads off.

  One evening, in the midst of one of our Little Red Riding Hood fantasies, I heard the sound of tyres on the gravel on the driveway. I was too far into the fantasy to really take it in. I vaguely wondered whether Sam was expecting a visitor. THE BOY was oblivious to the sound.

  But then I realised that someone had opened my front door. I guess THE BOY had not locked it when he’d come over earlier. I heard the sound of the shoes of someone walking determinedly towards my bedroom. THE BOY was deep inside me. He was in his granny nightgown with the wolf’s mask. I wore my red cape, which was spread underneath me. My white skin looked luminous against the red velvet. THE BOY was close to orgasm. He was riding me with great splendour. His eyes were wide with wonder.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ a voice boomed.

  And then I realised it was HIM. HIM. He was in my bedroom looking at me with THE BOY.

  THE BOY fell onto me and then looked up at HIM. Although they’d never met, THE BOY was well aware who my former lover was.

  Without speaking, THE BOY began gathering his clothing from the bedroom. He still wore the granny nightgown and wolf’s mask. He took his stuff and left the duplex without saying anything to me. He did not look back.

  And then it was HIM who began asking me questions.

  ‘You’ve been sleeping with THE BOY?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Twenty.’

  ‘So it’s legal.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you were not showing the best judgement.’

  ‘You left me and THE BOY wanted me so much.’

  ‘Come on,’ he said, holding out one of his hands to get me out of bed. ‘You’re taking a shower. I don’t want his touch on you when I fuck you.’

  I grabbed his hand and followed HIM to the bathroom. He turned on the shower. When the water was warm I walked into the stall and let the water pour down on me. My heart was racing. I wondered about THE BOY. This was not how I wanted it to end.

  ‘Do you have a douche?’ I could hear HIM asking me through the curtains.

  ‘Yes. I have some disposable ones underneath the sink.’

  I could hear HIM rummaging around until he found it. He handed it to me.

  ‘Get THE BOY out of your pussy.’

  I inserted the douche mixture into my pussy and could feel it run down my leg. THE BOY was gone then. Completely gone.

  ‘I’m changing the sheets,’ I could hear HIM yelling over the sound of the shower. ‘I don’t want any traces of THE BOY in your house.’

  But THE BOY was everywhere in my house. He was the sunlight and laughter and good cheer. Why on earth had I not told HIM to leave instead of THE BOY?

  I got out of the shower. I decided I would tell HIM to leave. I would return to THE BOY. I’d explain to THE BOY that I had not anticipated a visit from HIM. It could be easily patched up.

  I wrapped the towel around me and stood looking at my face and wet hair in the mirror. And then he was in the bathroom with me. He’d taken off his clothes and was holding a bottle of Astroglide in his hand. He turned me round so I was facing the sink, my hands on either side of it.

  ‘Just stay where you are,’ he commanded. He fiddled with the Astroglide bottle and squirted a little of it on to his right middle finger. I stood there while he inserted his finger into my ass. At first I was completely jarred but he was very gentle under the circumstances. He was almost clinical about it, like a doctor. I could feel it as he began moving his finger back and forth.

  ‘I’m fucking you in the ass,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly the way you need to be fucked from now on. I’m going to fuck you in the ass whenever I please. Do you understand this?’

  ‘Yes,’ I murmured but I was frightened.

  And then he inserted his cock up my ass. I wanted to scream, it felt so painful. But he persisted until his cock was completely inside my ass. He began thrusting deep. But it began to feel exquisite. My whole body was alive in a way it had never been before. Our eyes met in the mirror. And then I remembered the true bliss of HIM fucking me. This was true oblivion. And that was all I wanted, to be obliterated. I was back with HIM. HIM. It was as it was supposed to be.

  I caught my breath as I continued to look at HIM in the mirror. We simultaneously came in an intense orgasm. He collapsed on me.

  ‘You’re still the best,’ he said. Then he abruptly left the bathroom.

&
nbsp; ‘Oh,’ he shouted, ‘I almost forgot, I bought you some flowers.’ He brought them back to the bathroom, where I had regained a little of my equilibrium. I was methodically reapplying my make-up, attempting to look halfway presentable. The flowers were quite beautiful, the colours splendid, purple and red and pink and orange and yellow and white, a true mixed bouquet.

  ‘Thanks for the flowers,’ I said. I took them from HIM, still in the plastic covering. I found my bathrobe hanging on the bathroom door and put it on. I went to the kitchen sink to put the flowers in a vase. I turned around to see that he had followed me. His erect cock was coming towards me. He was not smiling. He was not smiling at all.

  He grabbed me from behind and pulled off the bathrobe. He began fucking me again in the ass. He was fucking me. He was absolutely fucking me. This was not about regard for one another. This was not about HIM giving me pleasure. This was solely about HIM fucking me because I needed to be fucked like this, because, in the circumstances, this was what I deserved.

  He had come up to me and with no foreplay at all he was inside me. Deep inside me. And he was pulling his cock out of my ass each time, only to thrust deeper. Deeper until there was no me left. Nothing. I was nonexistent. He was fucking me deeper each time. He’d withdraw his penis almost completely. I became nervous that he’d stop. I became frantic. I began to whimper. ‘Please,’ I pleaded with HIM. ‘Please. Please. Please,’ I cried.

  I understood that he was claiming me again. I understood that. This was about THE BOY. I was not to question his motives. If I wanted HIM to fuck me this way, if I had come to the point where I had no choice but to have HIM fuck me this way, then I could not, should not, would not ever deem to question HIM. This was what I needed to understand. He was going to fuck me like this because I wanted HIM to fuck me like this; I needed HIM to fuck me like this. Each thrust reminded me that I was his. ALWAYS his. No one else’s. HIM.

  He moaned directly in my ear as he came. When I heard his moans I was beside myself. I loved it. I loved the intimacy of his moans. And then I came with HIM. Yes, I did. I couldn’t help it. I was so turned on by this man. We collapsed onto the kitchen counter.

  Afterwards, I led HIM to the shower. It was different then between us. As the water poured over our bodies, we held one another. I loved how my breasts felt against his chest. He was kissing me now with great tenderness. We laughed together. It was the second time I’d been in the shower in less than an hour.