FEELS LIKE THE FIRST TIME

by Scott Hildreth

  I thought about what he said.

  “So you’re thinking maybe my father grew up seeing his father doing what I witnessed my father doing – and he just ended up abusing instead of abstaining?” I rubbed my chin and looked around the room.

  “It’s a thought. It’s possible. We’ll never know,” he responded.

  It made sense. Everything he had said about my hoodie and when I started wearing it as a child. The fact my childhood blanket had been used for security of sorts; and it was kept in a footlocker full of mothballs. My grandfather and his devotion to boxing; maybe it was why he got me involved in boxing. It was possible, I suppose, he started boxing as an outlet after my grandmother left. Knowing and understanding these things didn’t allow me to forgive my father for what he did, but it was beginning to help me understand.

  As adults, we are a product of what we were exposed to as children. Generations of abuse breed generations of abusers. Until one person is strong enough to break the chain.

  I’m strong enough.

  I stood from the couch and pressed my jeans with my hands, removing the wrinkles. He stood from his chair and walked around his desk, a business card in his hand.

  “Would you like to make another appointment for your next session?” he asked.

  “No sir, I’m done here. I appreciate your help. I’ll be fine,” I pulled my hood over my head.

  “Good luck in your upcoming fight, Mr. Dekkar. I’m here if you need me,” he said as he handed me the business card.

  I placed the business card in my pocket and turned to face the door. I inhaled a slow breath through my nose and exhaled out my mouth. I grabbed the door handle and slowly opened the door, knowing the fight was the farthest thing from my mind right now. We all fight our battles differently. I chose to fight mine in the ring. My father fought his in Afghanistan and Iraq. Kace fought her battle attempting to make a relationship work which was destined to lose. We fight to form ourselves into something or someone we wouldn’t naturally become.

  We fight to become stronger.

  And the strength, ultimately, allows us to continue to fight.

  And the fighting builds strength and provides us with experience until we are strong enough to stand on our own.

  I slid my hand under my shirt and felt my chest. Bare. Bare of the dog tags I had always carried as a reminder of my father and his devotion to fight for what he believed to be just, right and moral. I walked through the lobby to the front door and opened it. Holding the door handle in my hand, I stood in the opening. I took a deep breath and looked out into the street. And I stepped out into the world with a mind full of new memories. Full of memories but free of the chains that have bound me for so many years.

  I stepped out into the world.

  Free.

  Chapter 20

  KACE. Shane had been home from the hospital for three weeks. He seemed measurably different since returning from the hospital, in good ways. He was more loving, willing to spend time being lazy around the house with me, and had been taking time to cuddle and do girlish things with me.

  It was entirely possible the hospital was something he needed for a long time. It was probably necessary to get his mind clear after losing his father and grandfather in such a short period of time. He never talked to me about the trip to my mother’s house, passing out, the ambulance ride, or what the doctor told him during his stay in the hospital.

  The afternoon after we left him in the hospital, he called from a restaurant and explained he was done with all of his medical tests. He said whenever we were ready Ripp and I could come get him. The day in the restaurant was the last we spoke of any of it.

  I know something inside of him changed, because he had not worn his dog tags since the day he tore them off and dropped them on the floor at my mother’s house. The dog tags were his life, his good luck charm, and his only real tie to his father. I think they might have caused part of the problem, because he tore them off right before he collapsed.

  Initially, I didn’t really know how to treat it, so I placed them on the kitchen counter for him to pick up whenever he was ready. That night, they were gone. He didn’t wear them, but I knew he took them from the counter. The next day, while Shane was showering, I accidentally threw away my driver’s license when I was cleaning out my wallet. As soon as I realized it, I dug through the trash to try and find it. When I did, I saw the chain in the trash. I reached in and pulled at the chain, and found the dog tags attached, wrapped in paper to hide them.

  I put them away until he decides he wants or needs them. I don’t want to mention them and make him upset if he doesn’t want to talk about it. I know whatever reason he was upset had to do with his father, and right now his father is a delicate subject. I don’t want to upset Shane, not now. Not every for that matter. For now, I just want to enjoy him the way he is.

  “Babe, where are you?” he asked as he walked in the door.

  “I’m in here,” I answered from the living room.

  He walked into the living room holding a sack in his hand. His boots were clean and polished, and he was wearing a new black hoodie.

  “Look,” he said as he held one foot forward for me to see.

  “They’re clean. They look good. I like your new hoodie,” I said as I looked back and forth between the cooking channel and his clean boots.

  “No, babe. They’re new,” he said.

  “You bought new boots?” I asked as I turned off the television.

  “Brand fucking new,” he said.

  He has changed.

  “Holy cow. Where are the old ones?” I asked as I stood from the couch.

  “Garage. I put ‘em up. Got a new hoodie, too,” he said as he slowly turned in a circle.

  “I love it, it looks comfy. The old one?”

  “Garage,” he responded.

  “Oh, wow. And how long had you been wearing those old boots?” I asked.

  “Uhhm. Well, six. No, seven. Eight. Yeah, eight years,” he responded.

  “Wow,” I said, glad that he finally replaced them.

  He looked inside the sack he held, pulled out a receipt, and then handed it to me.

  “There’s a few dresses in there. Go in the bedroom and try them on for me,” he smiled.

  “You bought me dresses?” I asked as I eagerly grabbed the bag from his grasp.

  As he nodded his head, he unzipped and removed his hoodie. I looked inside the bag. One dress was black and one was a burnt orange color. I loved getting gifts, and I love clothes. I hadn’t received a gift for around ten years as far as I could remember. Holding the bag in my hand, I reached around his neck and hugged him.

  “Thank you, I love you, Shane,” I said.

  “I love you. Now go try them on,” he said as he sat on the couch and began to remove his boots.

  “Can I come out and model them for you?” I asked as I walked to the room.

  “Yes, that’s what I want. I want you to try them on and come out here so I can see,” he said as he shook his head.

  This is so exciting.

  I ran to the room and shut the door.

  I held up the black dress. Black is elegant. Boring. I held up the orange dress. Oh my, this is nice. It’s going to look so good. I got undressed and put on the orange dress and looked in the mirror. I looked fabulous.

  Awesome sauce.

  If I go out there in this one first, then the black one will be last, and I won’t end it with a bang.

  I took the orange dress off and put on the black one. I looked great, but I needed shoes. I opened the closet and dug for my favorite 4” heels. I found the heels and pulled them onto my feet. I stood and looked in the mirror.

  Oh wow.

  Wow.

  I opened the drawer to my dresser and pulled out my perfume and one of my folded tee shirts. I sprayed the folded tee shirt with perfume, pulled up the dress, and rubbed the tee shirt under my chest.

  That ought to do it.

  I looked in the m
irror and pulled my hair behind my ears the way he likes to see it.

  Ok, here we go.

  I grabbed the door handle and looked in the mirror.

  I look too conservative.

  As I turned the door handle, I shook my head and walked out into the living room.

  “Don’t move,” he said as soon as I walked out of the bedroom.

  “Why? What’s wrong?” I asked, startled.

  “Don’t. Kace, don’t move,” he said as he stood up from the couch, “Take a step back by the door.”

  “What?” I asked as I stood a few steps into the living room.

  “Just back up one or two steps, into the light,” he said as he walked toward the kitchen.

  Slowly, I stepped backward two steps.

  “Right there, don’t move,’ he said from the edge of the kitchen.

  He grabbed his phone and started walking my direction. He stood a few feet in front of me and held his phone in front of him, looking at the screen. As I stood there smiling, he took a few pictures of me with his phone. He looked at the phone, scrolled through the pictures, and knelt down closer to the floor.

  He took another picture and looked at the phone, “Perfect.”

  “Kace, you’re as beautiful of a human being as has ever existed. Looking at you is proof there is a God, he pays attention to his work, and he appreciates it. I wonder what I have ever done to deserve having the ability to just come home to you every day,” he said as he stood and stared at the screen of the phone.

  “Look at this,” he said as he held his phone in front of my face and stepped beside me.

  I looked at the screen. The girl looking back at me was beautiful. Her hair was blonde and healthy looking. Wearing a new black dress and heels, she looked elegant. Her skin held on to the late summer tan, and was free of blemishes. As I studied the picture I realized Shane had changed me. He had made me confident. He gave me reason to believe I was beautiful. He asked me daily, several times, who’s the most beautiful girl in the world?

  He knew what he was doing.

  Looking at the screen of the phone, I realized he was right.

  I was beautiful.

  And Shane knew it. Long before I realized it, he knew it. He brought it to my attention. He told me over and over, in his own way. And now he stood beside me showing me. He truly believed I was beautiful for all of this time, and now he was making sure I knew it. I tried to remember the last time I looked at a picture of myself. I couldn’t even recall the last time. I had no reason to have pictures. Josh’s rules really didn’t let me take, send, or have a reason to need pictures.

  “I could just look at you for a lifetime,” Shane said as he looked up from the screen of the phone.

  “Do it,” I responded, “Do it.”

  “I intend to,” he chuckled as he tossed the phone onto the floor.

  “Want me to try on the other dress now?” I asked, standing there a little more confident than before.

  “Take that one off, Kace,” he said.

  “Want to see the other one?” I asked again, excited to put on the other dress.

  “Take it off, Kace. Now. Take it off. I can’t take it any longer. Looking at you makes me realize you’re real. Here’s the thing, Kace. Every time I come home, every time I meet you for lunch, every time I wake up and look over at you,” he paused and placed his hands on either side of my face.

  He held my face and looked into my eyes, “You’re more beautiful than I ever remember you being.”

  I melted into a puddle.

  “Kace, every time I go somewhere with you, I hold my head high. Proud you’re stepping down to my level. I’m surprised someone like you would even be with someone like me. I stand beside you proudly, hopeful I can make you a fraction as happy as you make me. I love you, Kace,” he said as he kissed me softly.

  As he pulled away from my lips, he focused on my face, “Off, Kace. Now.”

  “Okay, I’ll go grab the other one,” I sighed, still full of emotion from his little speech.

  “No,” he said as he grabbed my shoulders and turned me around.

  I felt him unzip the zipper of the dress. The dress fell to the floor. He knelt down at my feet, removed my shoes one at a time, and tossed the dress to the side. Dressed in my panties and bra, he led me by my hand into the bedroom.

  A certain satisfaction filled me as we walked into the room. I was satisfied Shane cared for me enough to buy me gifts and remind me I was beautiful. I’m further satisfied he loved me – and he accepted my love in return. As we reached the bed, he turned me around and lowered my body onto it. Slowly, I allowed myself to fall to the bed. His fingers slid to my panties, pulling them along my thighs. I raised my feet and kicked my legs to free my panties from my feet.

  I sat up slightly and reached back to unhook my bra as he pulled his shirt over his head. As he reached to unbuckle his belt, his bicep muscles flexed and twitched. He stood at the end of the bed as he removed his jeans and looked like an absolute God.

  Shane Dekker was the sweetest man I had ever met. He was also the most brutal man to ever enter the boxing ring. He was now, and would always remain the most gorgeous man I have even seen in my life. His innocence and shy nature did nothing but added to the fact he was as tough as almost anyone on earth – it made him even more attractive. It made him human. Soon he may be fighting for the Heavyweight Champion in the World title. Looking at him stand before me made it almost difficult to believe.

  As I tossed my bra to the floor, I wiped the drool from my lips.

  Now standing naked, he inched his way beside me on the bed. Shane knew by now all I had to do was see him without a shirt, listen to him speak, or watch him get undressed and I was as wet as I would ever become.

  “Babe?” he whispered.

  I turned my head to face him. As our eyes met, he began to kiss me. As he kissed me his hands touched the sides of my face lightly. He touched my face almost every time we kissed, and it drove me insane with emotion. It was the one thing which always pushed me over the edge.

  His soft lips against mine, I moaned as he kissed me. One of his hands left my face and began to massage my breasts. He began to roll my nipple between his index finger and thumb. An electrical charge felt as if it were traveling from my nipple to my aching pussy.

  Foreplay with Shane Dekker wasn’t foreplay at all, it was torture.

  Lying on his side beside me on the bed, he moved his mouth from my lips to the edge of my neck. As he drug his teeth down the side of my neck, I felt goose bumps rise from my calf to my shoulder. His lips began to kiss my collar bone and work their way back up my neck to my jaw.

  My entire body felt as if it were on fire.

  As he kissed my jaw and worked his way down to my chin, his hands found my breasts. I closed my eyes and focused on his mouth. My breasts cupped in each of his hands, he started squeezing them as he kissed my chin and neck. He opened his mouth wide and began kissing the front of my neck. I arched my back and tilted my head back, exposing my neck for his pleasure.

  As he licked and kissed my neck, he began to moan.

  No, don’t do that.

  Don’t moan.

  I opened my eyes.

  The muscles on the backs of his arms flexed as he squeezed my breasts. His perfectly flat stomach was against my hips and mid-section as he kissed the side of my face and chin. I watched his chest muscles as he kissed up and down my neck.

  I reached down and fumbled for his cock. As I gripped it in my hand, he began to groan.

  “Oh God, Kace,” he moaned as he raised his mouth from my chin.

  “Lay down,” I said, “Lay on your back.”

  I pushed against his shoulder, forcing him to roll to his back. As he did, I kissed my way along his body toward his waist.

  “Don’t move. Let me do this for you, please,” I begged.

  I kissed his neck and worked my way to his chest. Knowing I could not last for very long, I bit each of his nipples and moved t
o the center of his torso. I rubbed my hands along his washboard abs as I kissed along his stomach. Holding my hands on his stomach, I moved my mouth to his hard cock.

  “Hold my hair so it doesn’t get in my mouth,” I said.

  Silently, he reached for my hair and held it behind my head. I opened my mouth and began to lick the tip of his cock. As I licked and kissed the tip, I moved my hand from his stomach and grabbed his cock in my hand.

  I pulled my mouth away from the tip and watched as I began to stroke his cock. Being able to do things like this was very pleasurable to me. I had never been in a position where I was allowed or able to enjoy myself sexually. Shane’s fear of causing me harm or emotional damage prevented him from being aggressive with me sexually, and I was able to show him through my actions what I preferred and enjoyed.

  It was a learning experience for both of us each time we had sex.

  “I like your cock in my hand,” I said as I stroked it.

  I sat up on the bed and began to stroke it faster. I leaned over and slid my mouth down the shaft as far as I could a few times, making the entire length wet. I pulled my mouth from the tip and began stroking it again.

  “But,” I said as I raised myself from the bed and stepped over his thighs.

  I like it in here better.

  I lowered myself onto his hard cock as I spread my pussy open with my fingers. As the tip penetrated me, I had a light orgasm. I sighed and lowered myself slowly down until I had his entire cock inside of me. Once down as far as I could go, I wiggled my ass against his upper thighs.

  “See? All gone,” I said as I proudly pointed to my pussy.

  I leaned forward and placed my hands on each side of his chest and took a deep breath. I raised myself up the shaft of his cock until my pussy was at the rim of the tip. I bit my lip and lowered myself down the shaft until it was buried inside of me.

  I exhaled.

  “Did you see that?” I asked.

  He nodded eagerly.

  “You do realize this doesn’t hurt me, right?”

  I rose up again, almost to the tip.

  “See that,” I said as I pointed to his glistening cock.