Desire

by Simone Sowood

  Ignoring her, I push her back on the table and dive my head between her legs. Without bothering to kiss her thighs, I push my tongue through her folds and dip it into her entrance.

  Her juices coat my tongue with the sweetest taste in the world. I close my eyes and focus on remembering it.

  “Gabe,” Eloise moans.

  She grinds herself against my face, covering me in her slickness as she comes. I don’t stop, I keep lapping at her folds.

  Meshing her hands in my hair, she lifts her ass and moans. I ram my finger into her, and her walls clamp around it. She lets out a high-pitched scream as she comes again. My tongue doesn’t stop.

  I could do this all day long.

  After she calms, she says, “Oh my God, what are you doing to me?”

  Lifting my head, I say, “I have to enjoy this, after I pierce you I won’t be able to lick you without a barrier until you’re healed.”

  Eloise jolts up.

  “You’re piercing me?”

  Eloise

  Waves are still crashing over me, making it difficult to think straight.

  “You first came here for a piercing, didn’t you?” Gabe asks.

  He slides my body further up the table, and moves his body over mine.

  “Yeah, the first time I came here,” I say, giggling.

  “Better late than never.”

  “You think I still need to be pierced?”

  A piercing might be the reason I found Gabe in the first place, but that was out of desperation to have an orgasm. Now that I found Gabe, orgasms are no longer an issue. He barely has to touch me and I quiver.

  “Your pussy will look really fucking tasty with a pretty blue jewel on it.”

  “I got the impression you didn’t want me to get one.”

  Gabe laughs, and moves his body over mine. He pushes his throbbing dick against my mound.

  “No, I wanted you to know I could make you come without one. I needed to know you were mine before I decorated you.”

  “Well, you made that pretty clear.”

  He nips my neck and growls, “I’m going to flick that ring, and I’ll be beating on your clit from front and back. Your head will explode.”

  “I don’t think it can get more intense.”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  I laugh, and say, “I would love for you to pierce me.”

  “Think of it as a promise ring. It’s my promise to never hurt you again.”

  I moan in delight at the idea of having Gabe’s mark. It would be our little secret.

  Although I still want him to tattoo me, but that can wait.

  Right now I’m happy with a piercing. I’d be happy with anything Gabe did to me.

  Gabe spreads my lips with his fingers and drives his hard dick into me. My walls adjust to his size, and he begins pumping into me.

  My body sparks and sizzles everywhere our skin touches. A volcano of heat wells between my legs, threatening to overwhelm me. I don’t want to cry again, it’s embarrassing but the feelings are so intense.

  I claw at his back, and my legs stick up, tensed, into the air.

  He moves faster and faster, grunting as he drives into me. Small spasms move across my walls, and every muscle in my body tenses, and I struggle to breathe. He lets out a long grunt, and buries himself deep within me.

  A tidal wave rips through me, and all the tension in my body is washed away.

  “Gabe,” I scream.

  The deafening sound echoes around the room. My legs buck and kick as the orgasm rips through me. His dick throbs against my walls, seemingly making the waves stronger.

  I’ve never felt anything so powerful or good or right. I seem to melt into a puddle on the table.

  Without moving, Gabe hovers over me, drawing deep breaths of air into his lungs.

  Gasping, I say, “We can still have sex without a condom, right?”

  “Fuck yes, I wouldn’t even consider it if we couldn’t.”

  Squeezing him tight, I realize how lucky I am for noticing that headline on the magazine cover. I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without Gabe. And not just because of the way he makes my body feel.

  I’ve never had as much fun with anyone as I have with Gabe, and that includes Sophie.

  Maybe the reason I love them both so much is because of the way they get me to relax and have fun instead of fretting about doing what I think I’m supposed to be doing.

  We lie locked together in each other’s arms, without speaking. I don’t think any words need to be said. At least not right now, but I’m sure we can work things out with my parents.

  Gabe kisses my forehead, and pulls out of me. Standing, he grabs his T-shirt from the floor and wipes my pussy.

  “Stay there,” he says, and turns away.

  The intensity of the orgasm has barely subsided. Staying here isn’t much of a choice. I couldn’t walk away right now if I tried. I close my eyes, and vaguely hear him rummaging around.

  A warm, wet cloth wipes my mound, and I open my eyes. Gabe is staring intently at my folds as he cleans me. Next he squirts some kind of solution onto me, and wipes it all around me with a thin cloth.

  He exposes my clit to the air, and wipes the cloth over it. The air, the cloth and Gabe’s touch unleashes another set of waves.

  “Oh God,” I cry.

  “You like that, baby?” he asks, pinching my clit and rolling it between his fingers like he did when we first met.

  The entire area is throbbing, and I cry out again.

  Gabe concentrates on what he’s doing, and I watch as he works. His fingers pinch around behind my clit, searching for the right spot. He takes some kind of metal clamp from the tray and puts it on the place where his fingers were pinching.

  “You’re doing it now?”

  For some reason, I didn’t realize he meant piercing me right now. I thought maybe in a couple of hours, or even tomorrow.

  “Yes now, while your taste is still fresh. Otherwise I’m just going to have to keep licking you. Besides, the sooner we do it, the sooner you start healing and the sooner I can taste you again.”

  Holding the clamp in place, he takes a long needle from the tray. I can’t watch any longer, and turn my head to the wall.

  Without saying anything, he pushes the needle through me. Surprisingly, I don’t flinch or make any sound. I barely notice any pain. I keep my eyes on the wall but can feel him doing something down there. I suppose putting on the jeweled hoop.

  “Beautiful,” he says, and tosses the items back into the tray. “Want to see?”

  He holds up a mirror, and angles it between my legs.

  “Of course,” I say, and look at the mirror.

  The ring rests against my skin, the pretty blue jewel sparkling in the light.

  “I love it,” I say, beaming at Gabe.

  And I do love it. It’s fun, naughty and Gabe’s. I love everything it represents.

  Gabe

  “Are you going to eat that?” I ask, pointing at the last piece of pepperoni pizza.

  “It’s all yours,” Eloise says, and takes a sip of her Diet Coke.

  After I pierced her, we came upstairs to my apartment. We’ve been laughing and joking around all evening, but we still haven’t talked about her mother.

  Neither of us has gone there, I think because things right now are perfect.

  “How is it? Does it hurt?” I ask, and pick up the pizza slice.

  She shrugs, and says, “Not at all.”

  I’ve given her two salt baths already. It kills me, but I got her panties from the car and made her put them on to keep the area clean.

  “I think it helped doing it when the area was stimulated, and that it will heal fast because of that,” I say. At least I fucking hope so.

  “Are you going to tattoo me in the middle of an orgasm too?”

  I chuckle, and say, “I need you to be perfectly still for that.” I pause, and add, “Are you serious about the tattoo?”

&nb
sp; “I think so, it’s a permanent way of showing how much I love you.” Eloise slides across the futon and cuddles up against me.

  “I am going to make you reflect on that for a few weeks. You realize that once I start coloring on your perfect canvas of a body that I may not be able to stop.” I take a bite of the pizza.

  Her eyes widen, and wander over my arms. I hope she realizes how serious I am.

  “I’m just glad I happened to walk into your tattoo parlor, and not somewhere like Hell in a Needle.”

  “We were meant to be. Did you realize I wouldn’t even have a parlor if it wasn’t for your parents?”

  “No, what are you talking about?”

  “My mother didn’t have insurance. The money I got when I turned twenty-five was a trust fund your mother set up. From the sounds of it, a lot of the money in it was hers.”

  Eloise’s eyebrows squeeze together, and she sets her drink on the coffee table.

  “I don’t understand. Why do you think that?”

  “Because she told me.”

  “Who told you? My mom?”

  “Yes, she was here yesterday and told me about how she was my mother’s friend. She showed me her tattoo of a rose. Did you know she has a tattoo?”

  “She showed me, but I never knew until yesterday.”

  “I bet you never thought your mother was inked,” I say, laughing.

  “It was a surprise, but not exactly my biggest surprise in the last week. She didn’t say anything about a trust fund.”

  “She set it up after my mother died.”

  “She must’ve cared a lot about your mother, as well as you and your sister.”

  “It’s something I’ve been debating, did she set it up because she cared or did she set it up to alleviate her guilt?”

  Eloise’s shoulders drop, and she leans back in her seat. “Do you really think it’s her fault? Wouldn’t there have been a big lawsuit if she’d been the reason?”

  I throw the pizza crust on the table. Was it her fault? I don’t know anymore. I spent the last fifteen years believing it was. It’s what my father and aunt always said. No one said anything about my mother not revealing all her symptoms. I wonder if my father ever knew that.

  Why didn’t my mom tell the doctor all her symptoms? Was a bit of embarrassment worth dying over? What if she’d never died, and I got to keep my perfect life in Rochester, with Eloise.

  I swallow and stop myself going down that path. God knows I’ve spent enough of the past wondering about the what ifs.

  None of it will bring my mother back.

  My mother knew I had a crush on Eloise, I only wish she knew we ended up together. She would’ve loved Eloise. My heart grows heavy as all the things my mother never got to know flash through my mind. The biggest of all being the fact that she’ll never know my children, our children. And our children will never get to know their amazing grandmother.

  Eloise is looking at me, waiting for an answer. I swallow again, trying to release the tension in my throat.

  “Probably,” I mutter. I want to believe it, if nothing else.

  Her face softens, and she smiles. “We can make this work, I know my mother really wants to make it work. So do my father and Sophie. We’ve got the three people who love me most in the world rooting for us and willing to do anything for us. Everything is going to be great.”

  I shake my head, and say, “They’re not the three people who love you most, I am.”

  She giggles, and says, “Okay fine, after you.”

  “You know, part of me feels like I owe them, for the money.”

  “There’s no way my mother feels like you owe her. Trust me, she definitely feels that she owes you.” Eloise runs her hand over my chest muscles. “Think how lucky you are, not many men have girlfriends whose mother feel as supportive of them as mine does about you.”

  “I still don’t want to rush over and have dinner with them again.”

  “That’s fine, there’s no rush. We can take as long as we want and figure this out. I don’t have to see them all the time, I work with them, remember. I do need to see Sophie though.”

  “Sophie’s cool, I can handle hanging out with her.”

  “See, baby steps. I think a lot of your reaction was the uncertainty of how you would feel and how my mother would feel about you. But that’s done now, that’s in the past, the next meeting won’t be like that at all. Especially since you talked to my mother yesterday.”

  “I’m still not in a rush to do that again.”

  “That’s fine, you don’t have to be. There’s no rush, there’s no pressure at all.”

  I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her tight to me, knowing my life is perfect again.

  Epilogue

  Gabe

  One Year Later…

  “What about this? Do you want it?” Eloise asks, holding up a tray covered with old papers. Her hair is loose, and hangs around her shoulders.

  “Dump,” I say.

  “Gone,” she says, and drops it in the cardboard box marked trash.

  I’m on my hands and knees in the spare bedroom at the lake house, pulling out boxes from underneath the bed.

  “This would have been easier on my knees if we’d gotten rid of the bed first.”

  “I’m just glad your sister visited, and took everything she wants so I don’t have to feel bad about throwing stuff away,” she says.

  “It’s hard throwing away everything.”

  “You should let me do it all, I’m not emotionally attached to any of it.”

  “Not even this?” I ask, holding up a drawing of a bunny rabbit I did in grade school.

  Eloise smiles, and snatches the drawing from my hand. “We’re keeping this, it’s adorable and perfect to hang on the wall in the nursery. I’m going to get it framed.”

  I laugh, and go back to hauling out shit from under the bed. I ignored clearing out this room as long as I could. Everything in it is a time capsule of my life from before my mother died.

  I couldn’t face thinking about how wonderful my life was back then when my present life was anything but. But now with Eloise, I can let go and move on. Except I’ve been too busy enjoying Eloise for the past year that I haven’t bothered to clear out the room. We never needed it before now.

  We’ve decided that we want to live here full time and commute to Rochester so we can raise our child in our little slice of paradise. Now we have to get the room ready for the baby.

  The baby was planned, but we only just found out Eloise is pregnant last week, on her parents’ anniversary.

  They say not to tell anyone until three months but we were both so excited that we announced it at her parents’ anniversary dinner.

  “I swear this is the hottest Memorial Day weekend ever,” Eloise says, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand.

  “Let’s take a break,” I say, standing.

  I walk into the kitchen and grab us two cold beers from the fridge. I pause, put them back and instead take out two bottles of lemonade.

  Eloise’s parents were ecstatic when they found out they were going to be grandparents.

  They’ve been nothing but understanding and welcoming to me, and I can’t imagine better grandparents for my child to have. It took several months for me to accept the past but we took things slowly, and now I’m honored to be a part of their family.

  Miranda seems to have healed as well. It’s like we helped each other accept a tragic situation without blame.

  The doorbell rings, and Eloise says, “I’ll get it.”

  Carrying the drinks, I walk into the living room. A FedEx man is at the door, and one of the drinks nearly slips out of my hand. There’s only one thing I’m expecting to be sent to this address, or at least hoping will be sent.

  “I’ll take it,” I say, pulling the small package from Eloise’s hand.

  “Is it the new handle sample for the kitchen cupboards?” she asks, staring at the package, waiting for me to open it.<
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  “It’s nothing,” I say, trying to make her lose interest. “Here’s your drink, let’s go outside and chill out.”

  I’m desperate to open the package but I set it on the couch, and herd Eloise outside, into the sunshine.

  “Man, it’s hot out here.” She pulls her tank top off, revealing her flimsy bikini top. It looks even more flimsy since her boobs are already bigger from the pregnancy.

  Purple lilacs cover her rib cage beside her right breast. As soon as I knew she wanted to be inked, I started designing tattoos for her. I want to drape flowers all down the right side of her body. The flowers and leaves look real, and she’s like a forest princess. It’s my best work.

  I can’t resist touching her, and brush my fingers over the lilacs. Eloise tilts her head and smiles coyly.

  “I’m going to sit by the lake. Coming?” she asks, swaying her hips as she walks across the lawn.

  “In a minute,” I say, thinking of the FedEx package.

  I pass her my drink to carry down to the lounge chairs, and turn back to the house. My heart hammers against my chest as I enter the house.

  My father is the only person who would ever mail something to this address. Everything normally goes to my tattoo parlor.

  I sent him an email a month ago, telling him how I’d moved on with my life and that he should too. He didn’t send an email back. Nothing. Silence, just like he’s been every day since my mother died.

  My hands shake as I rip open the package. Inside is a handwritten note, the writing shaky:

  Son,

  I’m glad to hear things are going well for you. You’re right, you deserve this more than I do. You deserved more than I was ever able to give you. At least I can give you this. I hope it brings you as much happiness as it brought me.

  That’s it, there’s no signature, there’s no return address. I still have no idea where he’s living.

  A scrunched-up piece of paper is taped to the bottom of the page. I peel it off and unfolded it, knowing what’s inside it.

  Dozens of possibilities rush through my mind. In the end I decide I can’t wait any longer.

  I rush out of the house and down to the lake. Eloise is stretched out on the lounge chair, the endless lake in front of her.