by Paula Cox
Chapter 34: Reality of It
MICHELLE
He’s still here. I can’t believe it, but Cal is still here. Not only that, but he’s in my bed, in my home, and under my sheets. His body is wrapped around mine, and I can feel every bit of air he expels tickling the back of my ear.
If I could keep this moment in my mind forever, I would. I have had men stay over, long time boyfriends who have even shared this space with me for extended periods of time. But I have never felt so safe, so at peace. And with all that has happened over the past two days, or the past month or so, I still cannot believe the connection he and I share.
The morning light trickles into the bedroom as I reach over and turn the clock sitting on the side table to face me. It’s nearly ten in the morning. I can’t remember the last time I slept that long or that well. As Cal continues to sleep, his rhythmic snoring practically rattling me awake, I wiggle myself out of his grasp and walk naked down the hall to the bathroom.
The shower shoots on, and I sit on the side of the vintage claw foot tub waiting for the water to heat up. Everything in this bathroom reminds me of Erin and her eclectic taste from the mixed matched towels to the subway tile floor she always loved. On a day like today, I’d normally find her in here, completing her marathon of a beauty routine as I try to push her out to get to the bathroom. But the halls and rooms of the house are silent today – except for Cal in my bedroom.
I step inside slowly as I wait for my body to adjust to the heat. When I’m ready, I dip the tip of my head in first, followed by my chest and the rest of my body. I lean my hair back, sinking it in the water as the sound of water pounds at my ears. I turn and grab the bar of soap, taking in a long whiff of the lavender scent. As I press it against my body, I start to return to normal.
After last night, I was in some dream world, some foggy haze of what had gone on. And with Cal and I fooling around like that, it was easy to take my mind off of everything I couldn’t process it. But as I touch the soap to my scars, the bruises, the bandages still stuck to my body by dried blood, I am remembering it all. Every bit. Every ounce of fear. It floods back to me.
I turn towards the faucet and shut my eyes. The water pushing down on me calms me, keeps me from going over the edge. I grab onto the wall for balance, but I am almost instantly pulled away. A large, calloused hand grabs at my hips and pulls me gently backwards. My back rests on Cal’s smooth, bare chest.
I shiver a bit as I lift my hand to touch his face. He leans down and whispers gently into my ear, “Did I scare you? You’re shaking.”
“No, no. You don’t scare me.” I mean every word.
I feel his face change as he speaks into my wet hair, “Good. Good.”
Our two bodies rock back and forth, swaying at the hips. I can feel his erection growing against my leg, and I find myself smiling over it. He still wants me. I push back even more, giving him more of the skin to skin contact. His hand moves from my hair, down to my neck and the line of my arm. He pops the little beads of water forming on my prickled skin as he makes a roadmap to my hand holding the soap.
Cal takes it from me and begins to take over where I left off. He starts at my shoulders, softly massaging the soap into my skin until a nice white froth begins to form. He then moves down my back, dancing over the curve of my skin and the tip of my hips. As he dips between the back of my thighs, he uses his foot to pull my legs apart. I lift my arms above my head and he moves around to the front of me.
His hands guide the frothy soap away from my badly bruised torso, instead moving quite deliberately to my chest. The sensation of his hands and the warm water leave me shaking when he begins to softly massage into my breasts. My nipples instantly go hard as every touch threatens to send me over the edge.
I lean back and lift my head upwards, kissing the black and brown stubble of his three-day-old stubble. I nibble on the side of his lip, trying to distract him, but he has already honed in on my body. He is making sure he doesn’t miss an inch of me with the soap. His fingers slip over my nipples, taking them between the spaces of his knuckles. As he massages the full flesh of my tits, the knuckles twist and pull at the tiny mounds. And I struggle to keep myself from screaming out from the thin line that is pleasure and pain.
As my chest turns bubbly and white, he picks up a patch of soap from my chest with three of his fingers and moves it down my stomach to my sex. I part my legs even farther, inviting him to cleanse me. The smooth soap glides over my skin as he feels around the folds, opening me up widely. I hear him say breathlessly, “Let me return the favor from last night, Michelle.”
I nod, unable to speak. All I know is I want those fingers inside of me, exploring me just as my hands had their fill of his cock last night. I place one of my legs on the edge, giving him even more room to penetrate me, and he takes my invitation. A soft finger enters, splitting my body apart. I roll my head back and moan as I feel him moving steadily in a circle around me. The other two fingers press against the top of my clit, putting an intense pressure on my most sensitive points.
His entire middle finger finds its way in me, and he begins to move in and out, first only with the tip of the finger, but then, as he goes deeper, more and more, until he is inside me up to his knuckle. I feel my pussy clench around him, trying to resist it. But with each small thrust, my own wetness increases, making the walls of my pussy as slick as my soapy skin. And I want more. Another finger slips in, and I nearly collapse onto him. He speeds up seeing me like this, full of wanting. I cry out, “Cal, pl– please…please…” I can’t get out the right words. His hands are guiding me to one of the hardest orgasms I’ve ever had.
Instead of relenting, he begins to pick up speed, going faster with two and then three fingers jabbing upwards like a sword cutting through a man in battle. Each and every time, he dives in, then pulls almost completely out, and then dives back in again. His fingers linger over my skin for just seconds – just long enough so I can feel what it is like to have it all and lose it all over again. It’s a teasing torture that only gets worse as he railroads me at a rapid pace.
I want him to slow down. I want to feel and be present in this moment. But what he is doing to me is far from letting up. He is relentless in punishing my cunt. He has one thing on my mind, and that is bringing me to completion. And as I feel the knots build up in my stomach, chest, and head so I feel like a balloon about to burst, I know he is about to get exactly what he wants.
I cum as the third finger slips in, hitting my clit. And I know Cal can feel it. He eases up, letting me feel the fireworks between my legs as I pulsate deeply. Every inch of me feels lighter and freer now that I am free of whatever was pent up in me. He uses his other hand to open my mouth as he slips his wet, sweet tongue into my mouth.
Cal eventually lets go with a sigh, and I sink back towards the faucet, welcoming the water once more. I wash off all the soap he covered me in and quickly rub in the shampoo. After all, I got in here for a reason. But Cal isn’t moving. He watches my every move with a brooding look upon his face. Finally, I ask him, “Can I help you?”
“I want to fuck you.” He says it slowly so I don’t miss a word over the sound of the water.
I ask him to repeat himself, “Come again?”
“I want to fuck you.” He stands up straight and takes a step towards me. His hand cups my chin and brings my face up to his level. “I want to fuck you badly.”
I don’t have time to resist. He turns me around immediately and leans me over so the water is spraying down onto my back and ass. I have just enough time to grab on to the wall in front of me before he enters. I let out a shriek as I feel his hard cock caress against my tired skin. “Cal! Please!”
“Please what, Michelle?”
I turn to face him, watching him touch and admire my body, “Please be good to me.”
He smiles and goes back to his work. Instead of plowing deep into my body, he slows himself. I can tell he is holding back by how he uses my hips as a ba
lance point. His fingers push and squeeze into my pale skin as he grows farther inside of me. I can feel his jagged nails leave their own, temporary scars.
Every part of his body is longing to go at me. He wants to fuck me, but I want him to make love to me. Unlike him fingering my pussy, I want to actually know his body. I want to experience what makes his cock the best I have ever had. I want to know why I dream about him taking me almost every night since the last time I’ve had him. And to do that, I need to take him slow and deliberately.
While he isn’t going fast, he is going deep. His long cock drives a path to new places as I lean down farther, nearly touching my toes as I hold onto the edge of the bathtub. Every time I sink lower, he lifts his hips higher, taking me from a v-angle. The water runs down my body towards my face and neck, and I can see it vibrate as my body takes the strokes one by one.
Suddenly, Cal pulls out. He backs up against the tub and away from me. I stand and turn, unsure of what just happened. I ask him frantically, “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
He runs his hand through his hair as he looks around the small, black and white bathroom. “It’s – I don’t know – I—"
I interrupt him, taking a step towards him and putting a hand on his chest. “Don’t you want me? I thought that you wanted this, too…”
He steps forward and brings my head to his. Our lips meet and he kisses me passionately. Our heads turn with each of the movements, dancing under the gentle spray of the water. Finally, he pulls me away, but still holds me in his arm. He looks down as he says, “I want to see you. I want to look into your eyes when I take you.”
My heart melts as I think of the man covered in dirt and grime who fucked me on the floor of his bedroom just weeks ago. I wrap my arms around him and press my chest against his, my hips on his still hard cock. I pull his head down by his hair as I say in my most sultry, deep voice, “Then take me like this.”
My leg lifts by the knee and he grabs it in midair. Cal spins me around and leans me up against the back, tiled wall of the shower and pulls the other leg up against my chest. He doesn’t blink as he presses back into me, the sensation feeling even better than the first time. We both let out groans as we ease into each other. And I hold on to the railing of the shower walls knowing that he is about to give me the ride of my life.
He looks down as he enters and exits me, warming me up. I take my hand out towards the water and wet it, placing it on my clit. His tongue licks his lip as he watches me play with myself. When he’s ready, he pulls my hand away and whispers breathlessly, “God, you never cease to surprise me.”
Cal bursts into me, speeding and drilling me like it is our first time again. My body takes each of his pounding as his cock tears into me. I can feel myself expanding and molding around his shaft as he goes on. And my fingers dig into his skin as I lose all sense of control again. For a moment, my mind goes completely blank as I scream out, “Cal! More! More! Give me more!”
He obeys by pushing his dick even harder and faster into my stretched out pussy. His thighs slap against me as he practically flies into me. I hear him call out my name as he grows closer, and I will myself to come with him. I want us to be together on this so badly as I reach down and find the small patch of skin on the underside of his balls.
The sensation is enough as his face twists and contorts. He kisses me as I, too, feel every part of my body firing off once more. Our arms tangle around the others’ body as he lifts me off of the wall and into the air. His hands wrap against my hips and guide me as he pulls and pushes slowly into me two more times.
I go numb as I try to feel every part of Cal that remains – his hands on my hips, his cock still lingering inside, his head resting on my shoulder. And I cum, this time harder and longer than ever before. It feels like a century has passed when the sensation stops.
Cal reaches over and turns off the water and then slowly sets me down on the bottom of the tub. He leans over me and kisses me gently with the tip of his lips. His long body presses into mine as he rests against my chest. “That was amazing,” he says admiringly. “Christ.”
I can’t even answer. I just laugh to myself, my chest popping gleefully.
He looks up at me confused, “What’s so funny?”
“I – I don’t know why I am laughing.” I honestly have no clue. But for some reason, despite everything that has happened, I feel like I am about to burst. “I think I’m happy. No, I am really, really happy.”
He touches my rosy cheeks, flushed from sex and the hot water and says, “So am I, Michelle.” He grins as he adds, “But I hate being wrinkled like a goddamn prune. Where are your towels?”
I look around bemused as I notice that the laundry is still in the upstairs laundry room, unfolded. I offer to go get us a set, but he’s already up. I point the way towards the end of the hall, and I watch as he hops out and makes his way towards the open door.
His shadow stops midway as I can see him turn towards something catching his attention. A part of me grows numb as I realize what he has seen. I walk out of the tub and grab the bright blue robe hanging on the door hook as I make my way towards Maddie’s bedroom.
Chapter 35: The Next Steps
CAL
I lean against the white doorframe as I peer into the room. Michelle appears behind me, wrapped in a silk robe. My voice lowers as I try to temper the emotions I am feeling. I ask her, “Is this…?”
“Yeah,” She says as she places a hand on my bare shoulder, “This is where Maddie lived when she was with me.”
I brush off her hand and walk farther into the room. It’s not what I had expected it to look like. There’s a purple and green bedspread on a white metal bed. Framed flowers are on the walls, and the desk is covered in neon colored pens and pencils. There’s still unfinished homework waiting to be completed and a new book bag with tags on it ready to be taken to school.
This could have belonged to any other girl in the world, but not my Maddie. Her bedroom at home is full of hand-me-down furniture I got from the gang. There is the broken wood bed I glued back together myself, and the desk that belonged to a new rider’s dead mother. She painted it black and used highlighters to write funny jokes on them that the guys would entertain her with. The blankets on her bed belonged to Ace when he lived full-time at the house. She stole them off the bed as he moved out. She had to be six or seven then.
Everything in this room feels so sterile in a way. Sure, she has only been living here for a few weeks, but it is like an entirely different world. Is this what a home is supposed to look like or is this Michelle’s fantasy of what it is like to have a daughter just like her?
Michelle returns back to the room with a towel, and I wrap it around my waist. I sink farther into the room, touching the white lace curtain that covers the window and the pastel outfit with the tags on them lying near the bed. Michelle clears her voice as she says, “Maddie picked that outfit out. I was surprised, too, but she said she liked the butterfly on the jacket.”
My blood begins to boil as I think of Michelle taking her shopping, Michelle holding her hand as they crossed the street, Michelle teaching her about this perfect, suburbia life that she could never have without her. I turn around to face her as I say coldly and sarcastically, “Did she, really? How happy you must have been.”
Michelle can sense something is wrong as she defends herself, “It wasn’t that I was happy. I would have bought her something black and leather if that’s what she wanted.”
“What she wanted was to be home with me, but you kept her from me. Didn’t you?”
“Cal – I—" She stutters as my sudden shift takes her totally off guard. After what just happened in that shower, she wasn’t expecting for me to come out swinging. But now I am seeing everything so much clearer. And it’s time to get this dirty laundry aired.
“You what? You thought you could do better than me? You thought you could replace me and make her life some perfect version? You’re not her mom, Michelle! Y
ou’re her fucking teacher, and you had no right to take her from me.”
She stands up straighter, finding herself as she yells even louder, “No, I’m not her mom. But you’re a pretty crummy father to let her sit in that basement while her house gets sprayed in bullets and men she grew up with die all around her! What kind of life do you want her to lead, Cal?”
“I want her to be happy, and that’s with me!” I pound my feet as I charge towards her.
She doesn’t back down, doesn’t even move a muscle as she replies, “I want her to be happy, too. I want her to have a dad. I want her to have a dad who isn’t out killing people in his spare time! I want her to have a dad who can take care of her. And if that means taking her away from you while you get your shit together, I’m happy to have done it!”
I back away quickly and sit on the edge of the bed.
“You grew up like this, Cal. You know what life in a motorcycle gang clubhouse is like. Do you really want that life for Maddie – one where she never knows her father and strange women raise her? Or do you want something better for her?”