Sarah and Abby had had it out Sunday night after Owen went to bed. Sarah chose to focus on the deceit and the alcohol consumption and not the promiscuity this time. Abby was not quite as remorseful as she had been in the morning. It’s like she spent the entire day bolstering her defenses, Sarah observed, reviewing a mental list of sociological theories to explain how Abby arrived at her argument, which basically boiled down to: “I’m young and I’m only going to live once.”
Of course Sarah couldn’t directly argue with that, but she could talk about the consequences of such behavior. She reminded her daughter that underage drinking was illegal. She lectured about trust and that lying to her mother was a good way to break the trust they’d spent fifteen years establishing. She talked about being sexually active and unintentional pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases. In the end, Abby broke down and cried again. Sarah considered that a minor victory, even though she had to ground her for a month. Growing up is tough. Sometimes it hurts. Sarah remembered exactly how quickly she grew up the summer she found out she was pregnant with Abby.
Someday she would be able to confess that whole story to Abby. Someday. She didn’t want her daughter to think everything had been easy for her. I don’t want her to think I always made the right choices, Sarah thought. I’m human too and it’s important for Abby and Owen to both see that. But I’m not ready to totally divulge that story...yet....
At high noon, Jack arrived with his adorable daughter Gia and shortly after, Sarah’s mother Kathy made her appearance with her famous oyster bacon dressing and sweet potato casserole. Soon everyone was seated around the candlelit table set with the fancy china and silver. All the guests’ stomachs rumbled at the delicious aromas wafting through the room. Then as Sarah brought the centerpiece into the room, all eyes fixated on the turkey, golden and juicy, ready to be carved. Sarah sat at the head of the feast, electric knife in hand, so happy to see her loved ones gathered around her.
Later, after the festivities wound down and people were starting to pass out in tryptophan-induced comas on every available horizontal surface, Sarah retreated to her bedroom to have a moment of peace and to check her phone for messages.
Happy Thanksgiving, James had texted.
She felt a pang of sadness that he wasn’t there. She made a mental note to discuss her family with him and whether or not he felt comfortable meeting them. She wondered if he would ever be ready for that...it seemed like a big leap in their relationship. She thought about the role he played in her life and how there really wasn’t a label to describe it. He wasn’t just a friend. He wasn’t quite a boyfriend. Yet, she felt he was becoming an increasingly important part of her life. There had certainly been a shift since that day they discussed their arrangement at Java the Hut. Things weren’t that simple anymore. After some deliberation, she texted back: I’m thankful for you.
A few hours later she received this: Me too. Miss you.
***
Every year Sarah questioned why she let Rachel talk her into Black Friday shopping. The earliness, the crowds, the traffic, the headaches, she reviewed the cons. “What about this is supposed to be fun?” she asked her best friend as they pulled out of her driveway at approximately 5:02 AM.
“It’s not supposed to be fun,” Rachel educated her, “It’s the thrill of the chase. It’s about the hunt! The sweet victory of bargains!”
Sarah rolled her eyes, glad that it was still too dark for her friend to see. “I think I need more coffee.”
“We’ll hit Starbucks right after Target. That’s where we’re starting.” As always, Rachel had their entire conquest mapped out, including coffee and bathroom breaks and culminating in a victory lunch around one in the afternoon. If I last that long, Sarah thought after seeing the proposed itinerary.
The two managed to make better time than Rachel had imagined. She was pushing for IKEA. “Are you nuts? IKEA on Black Friday? It’s bad enough on a regular weekend,” Sarah complained.
“Thomas wants this stuff for his bedroom,” Rachel explained, “And it won’t be so bad. Besides, we’re running ahead of schedule!”
“I’m starving though,” Sarah argued. “Let’s eat lunch first and then we’ll go, okay?”
Rachel acquiesced and soon the pair was sitting at a quaint little cafe ordering soup and sandwiches. “So, how are things going with James?” Rachel questioned.
Sarah nearly blushed at hearing his name. How is it that he can make me blush when I am not a blusher? She was often surprised at the physical response the mere thought of him elicited. She couldn’t recall any other lovers from her past having that sort of power over her. “Things are going very well,” Sarah admitted. “I have thought about asking him if he would like to meet the kids.”
“Whoa, really?” Rachel seemed surprised. “I thought this was a casual thing! When did that change?”
“I’m not really sure,” Sarah replied. “It’s the weirdest thing. When we’re apart, we’re apart, but when we’re together, it feels like we are together. Together-together. You know?”
Rachel laughed. “Um, no, you’re gonna have to explain that to us non-sociology professors. Is that some sort of jargon?”
Sarah smirked at her friend’s reaction. She took a deep breath before divulging this: “When we have sex, Rachel...” She paused for effect, “it feels like we’re making love.”
Rachel’s hazel eyes grew wide. “Oh my god, Sarah, you’re in love with him!”
Sarah was full on blushing now, her brown eyes sparkling. “No, I wouldn’t say that. I just feel something...deeper for him than I should considering how long I’ve known him. I feel...almost a visceral connection to him.”
“Visceral? What do you mean by that?” Rachel looked skeptical.
“Like beyond the conscious, like on a molecular level,” Sarah responded. Gauging her friend’s facial expressions, she quickly realized this required a more elaborate explanation. “I don’t know, Rachel, I can’t even articulate it really. I still feel like I’m getting to know him in many ways but I also can’t believe how drawn I am to him. I want to discover him. I feel pulled. Like a magnet.”
“Well, he’s fucking hot,” Rachel laughed, “I want to discover him too!”
Sarah joined in the giggling. Rachel had this amazing way of diffusing serious conversations with sexual interjections. Although, this particular interjection has some merit, she realized as a new thought suddenly gripped her attention.
As usual, her friend was reading her mind. “Alright, out with it, does he know about us?”
Sarah smiled, “Sorta.” She let about two beats pass before broaching the topic: “So...do you think a threesome would be possible? Wouldn’t that be the best Christmas present ever?” she mused.
“I can’t think of a better way to celebrate the holidays!” Rachel agreed. “Could we both wear big red bows?”
“Why of course! What else do you get for your Not Really Boyfriend?” Sarah exclaimed, laughing at the image of her and Rachel totally nude save for two huge red bows. “Would Jack mind? I’m certainly willing to return the favor sometime for the two of you!”
Rachel’s eyes grew a little dark and her smile faded. “Well, I’m not sure what’s going on with me and Jack,” she admitted.
Uh oh, Sarah thought, I’ve struck a chord. How did I miss that something was awry when I saw them yesterday? “Oh no! What’s wrong?”
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know, maybe nothing. I can’t decide what to do exactly.”
“Well, don’t be vague,” Sarah admonished her. “What is the problem?”
Rachel’s voice grew soft, which was extraordinarily out of character for her. Sarah could see that she was gripped by internal conflict. “It’s actually a sexual matter,” she finally confessed. She let Sarah process that admittance for a moment before continuing. “He’s having some difficulties...reaching climax,” she explained matter-of-factly.
Sarah considered that for a moment. “You mean r
ecently? Like before he was fine and now all of the sudden there are issues?”
Rachel shook her head. “He’s always had some issues, and it’s weird, I mean, he’s only 34. Sometimes he has to do it himself, like it doesn’t matter how long we fucked, he just can’t get over the edge. But it seems like things have gotten worse.”
“Well, stamina is nice,” Sarah consoled her, not so sure she would be complaining if the shoe was on the other foot.
“Of course, but come on, I want my partner to get off on me, you know?” Rachel explained, and Sarah nodded in agreement. “Now we’ll have sex two or three times over the course of a day or two before he finally unloads...” Her voice grew even smaller then, “I’m afraid it’s me, Sarah.”
“What makes you think that?” she asked. She reviewed her past and remembered a couple of similar circumstances where there were issues and she felt she might be to blame. Insecurity, she remembered. She’d been there.
“Well, maybe he’s bored with me,” Rachel considered. “Maybe he isn’t really attracted to me. Maybe it doesn’t feel that good to him.”
“Have you asked him what he thinks the problem is?” Sarah saw how Rachel’s whole demeanor had changed having delved into this topic. She looked so small and downtrodden, her eyes filled with worry. Sarah was not used to seeing this side of her friend who was ordinarily the most confident woman she knew.
“Sort of,” Rachel admitted. “He thinks he watches too much porn. He thinks he’s a bit desensitized.”
“Oh,” Sarah replied. “Well, there is some research that supports that. Some studies show that porn, and especially easily accessible and ubiquitous internet porn, can have a negative impact on sexual performance and relationships.”
Rachel seemed a bit relieved to hear that. “God, I should have known you’d be able to cite some research about it,” she laughed before her prior seriousness re-emerged. “But I still feel pretty shitty about it.”
“How much does he watch? The studies show that porn stimulates the dopamine system in the brain. It basically acts like a narcotic.” Sarah was scanning her memory for a citation to the most recent article she read on the subject. Rachel looked half-relieved there might be an explanation that didn’t indict her appeal and half-worried that this was too big of a problem to deal with. “How is he with other partners?” Sarah questioned, continuing her analysis.
“I don’t know, it’s been awhile since we’ve been with anyone else.” She picked at some food on her plate. “It’s just weird because we haven’t even known each other that long. It just seems like if there’s this big of a problem so early on...then I don’t know what that says about our future...you know? And I don’t want to play with others if we can’t even get our own shit straight.”
She understood Rachel’s reticence to add others to the mix. It is hard to surrender that control and to trust that your partner is really “yours” when there are unresolved issues, she thought, especially sexual issues. After all, in many ways, a couple’s sexual relationship is a barometer for the rest of their relationship.
“Ah, well, maybe that is a problem. Or maybe he senses you’re stressed out by it and that is in turn stressing him out? Men are actually more perceptive than we give them credit for sometimes,” Sarah noted.
“Yeah, maybe,” Rachel responded, but she was still clearly upset by the situation.
“Well, you aren’t considering dumping him over this, are you?” Sarah asked. She knew her best friend all too well. She had broken up with lovers for less than this. Sometimes it was easier for her to cut ties than to have to deal with the emotions.
Rachel smiled sheepishly, “Well...I don’t know....I don’t want to...but...”
“Rachel,” Sarah said seriously, “give him a chance. Take the pressure off. Enjoy the sensations and worry about your own orgasms, not his. Just stay in the moment.”
“Alright, alright,” Rachel conceded. “Although I will say it’s funny how you jumped all over my issue so you could avoid discussing yours.”
Sarah smirked, “True. It’s just one of my many talents.” They knew each other’s modus operandi all too well.
***
To say that Pawel seemed both excited and nervous about their date would be an understatement. Tonight is the night, Sarah realized. That’s why he’s being so crazy with all the plans. She couldn’t believe they had dated for a month now and they had never consummated their relationship. He had already called her three times throughout the course of the day to ask questions about what kind of wine she preferred and whether or not she would eat lamb or asparagus or a chocolate torte. “Pawel,” she finally assured him during the third phone conversation, “Whatever you make will be wonderful, I just know it. Relax! It’s all going to be fine!”
While Sarah thought it was adorable how attentive Pawel was being, she also thought that in some ways his behavior reeked of insecurity. Lack of confidence was a trait that she found exceedingly unattractive. It took her years to realize that her ex-husband compensated for his insecurity by being a pompous asshole...Douchebag is actually the word I prefer, Sarah thought. Asshole is too refined for him.
Sarah donned her simple black cleavage-baring gown again, the one she’d worn to dinner with James, Rachel and Jack the weekend before. I need to go shopping, she realized. If I’m going to have two boyfriends, I need a nicer wardrobe for going on dates! Pawel answered the door in jeans and a striped button down shirt, the cuffs rolled to his elbows. This was the most casual she’d ever seen him and he was emitting a very sexy erudite vibe. He pulled her close to him and his lips felt so soft and delicious against hers. His skin was velvety smooth and his wavy salt-and-pepper hair was still damp as she ran her fingers through it.
“You look absolutely stunning tonight, Sarah,” he said as he closed the door behind her, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re simply breathtaking!” He had soft jazz smoothly filling the air and candles were lit throughout his apartment, which was very bookish and cozy. There were oriental rugs in every room and real paintings on the walls, all abstract looking stuff, featuring geometric shapes and designs. “My father was an artist,” he explained when he caught Sarah studying the picture above the mantle.
Her attention shifted to the west wall where she found a picture collage of Pawel’s family. His wife was older than he was, with wispy gray hair and kind looking eyes Her stature appeared tall and willowy in a family portrait which also included Pawel and two grown sons. “What a beautiful family!” she gushed and Pawel smiled without saying a word.
He led her into the dining room which featured a very traditional cherry dining room set, complete with a sideboard and hutch and ornate chairs covered in an emerald green chintz. Sarah was impressed with the way Pawel had combined old world looking furniture with modern art throughout the house. She complimented him on his good taste; then he made an admittance, that he was actually apartment sitting for another faculty member who was on sabbatical. The furniture was hers and the artwork was his. Sarah laughed and assured him that he’d brought it all together flawlessly.
Pawel’s dinner was exquisite. Sarah had dated a chef or two but Pawel’s meal rivaled the best ones her former chef boyfriends had created. She couldn’t believe how relaxed she felt, sitting in this beautiful space with this beautiful man, and thinking of nothing else other than enjoying the moment. Her Auto Pilot was definitely engaged as she didn’t waste a moment thinking of work or worrying about the kids. She sipped her wine and relished the conversation and the dessert, the most scrumptious chocolate torte to ever pass her lips.
After dessert, Pawel guided her, wine glasses in hand, to the living room where they continued their discussion about evolutionary biology and whether or not humans were designed to be monogamous. An eavesdropper would have picked up on words such as “Darwin,” “bonobos,” and phrases such as “anthropologically speaking.” Suddenly, Pawel reached out and stroked Sarah’s cheek with his long, elegant fingers.
A smile spread across her face, and she looked down for a moment at how their bodies were positioned increasingly closer and then back up into his deep brown eyes. Without another word, his lips found hers and he pulled her into his arms so that she was stretched across his body, his hands stroking down her back and to the curve at her hip. He stood and lifted her to her feet, which were bare since she’d kicked off her heels after retiring to the living room earlier in the evening. She was feeling light and glowing, enveloped in a wine-saturated aura. He led her down the hallway and spun her around to face him again as they stood beside his four poster cherry bed.
He kissed her neck and his lips lingered around her collarbone, sending a shiver down her spine. He unzipped the back of her dress and slowly, sensuously slipped it off her shoulders until it slid down her body to the carpet below. She stood in only her black lace bra and matching panties, the dark fabric contrasting with her creamy ivory skin, her dark wavy hair cascading across her back, reaching just past her shoulder blades.
He caressed her shoulders and down her arm so reverently that her body lightly quaked under his touch. “My god, Sarah,” he whispered, admiring her nearly nude form before him, “you are a goddess.” He reached behind her to unfasten her bra and gently stripped it away, watching her round, full breasts succumb to gravity and fall to rest on her ribcage. He tenderly took her rose-colored nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and feeling it grow hard between his lips.
Sarah sighed as she felt the electricity race through her body. She started to unbutton his shirt to reveal his sleek, wiry body, his nearly hairless chest save for a trail leading down to what was still covered by his jeans. She deftly unbuckled his belt, unfastened the button and slid the zipper down, releasing the fabric so that the pants fell down his hips and thighs. He stepped out of them and stood pressed against her, her soft supple flesh contrasting against his lean frame, the thinnest of material segregating their respective sexes.
Mountains Wanted Page 12