by Amber Burns
“Oh Travis, what happened to make you do this?” I asked the silent and unmoving body.
I didn’t really want to go any closer, I could see from where I was there was no chance he had survived. I sat there waiting for the ambulance, and once the paramedics arrived I walked back up to the house to check on Annabelle. She sat curled on my couch with the kitten on her lap, and looked up when I opened the door.
“Are you okay? What was that? Where’s Travis?”
It took a moment for my lack of response to bring home what had happened. She turned pale,
“Oh my God, he?”
There was no completion to the question required and I simply nodded.
“Annabelle, please stay with me tonight. I can’t be alone, I’m sorry, I have just lost too many friends.”
She stood and came to me, hugging me tightly, and I felt her nod against my chest.
“Yes, I’ll stay.”
We waited until the paramedics finished asking questions and picked up the medication they found next to the bed and in his bags. After there was peace in the house again, I left Annabelle for a moment to go and fetch the picnic goods we had left in our rush. When I came back she poured us each a glass of wine and carried them through to the lounge, sitting down on the one end of the couch.
“I am so sorry for what you have gone through tonight, nobody should have to see what I’m guessing you saw on that beach.”
She looked into her wine glass and went quiet. I was starting to go numb about it.
“It’s okay, I saw much worse in Afghanistan, he is the second of my friends I have seen dead up close, and the last one I had left. Honestly I kind of saw it coming tonight. I should not have left him alone.”
She moved closer and curled herself around me.
“Just let me comfort you tonight Michel, I don’t know how to make you forget, but I can try to not to let you feel alone.”
I held on to her with my own arms around her small waist, amazed at how narrow it was. I breathed in her neck, her perfume intoxicating.
“Anna, can I call you Anna?” I asked into her hair.
She nodded, “I like that.”
She nuzzled my neck and her next words were an ignition flame to a gas leak of arousal.
“Michel, why do scary situations and grief especially, cause a need for physical comforting and…” She trailed off lifting her head and wiping her hair from her face to look at me. “I’m sorry, that’s indecent.”
I stopped her from hiding her face again.
“I know what you mean, do you mind if we pick up that kiss where we were interrupted earlier?”
Her lips met mine before I had a chance to see her final facial expression, and our tongues entwined as her mouth opened to my gentle explorations. She moaned against me as I ran my hands up and down her back against the soft chiffon of her dress, feeling the zipper at the top, and working very hard to resist the temptation of sliding it down to expose smooth skin.
“Michel, lift your arms,” she murmured, breaking the kiss for a nanosecond.
She pulled my shirt off over my head and turned to sit straddling my lap, lifting the skirt of her dress so that she could sit more comfortably. I watched as she adjusted herself and took a deep breath.
“Anna, before this goes any further, are you okay with it going further?”
She turned that deep cerulean gaze on me, and I read her certainty and arousal there. She nodded and brought her lips to mine again,
“Yes Michel, I am ready to move further, and stop trying not to unzip my dress, if you want to, do it.”
I sat forward on the couch and reached around her back, and this time when my fingers found the zipper I didn’t restrain myself; I pulled it slowly down. She hollowed her back, arching her breasts into me as the front of her dress slid down her shoulders and draped itself around her elbows. Her pale skin was suffused gradually with a pink flush, and I brought my hands to the front of her body, running my fingers very gently over her nipples, visible through the lace of her bra. They were already firm, but hardened even more under my touch as she bit her lip and watched the movement of my hands.
In a smooth movement I unhooked the back of her bra and pulled it away to expose small, pert breasts with rosy pink nipples. When I lowered my mouth to her collarbone, pulling her down into me with my hands around her, she made little incoherent sounds of pleasure, digging her fingers into my shoulders. I stood with her in my arms and started walking to my bedroom, her legs wrapped around my waist tightly. I put her down in the bedroom, and as she lowered her legs the diaphanous fabric of her dress slipped down over her hips to pool at her feet.
“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen Anna, you are truly my mermaid girl.”
I stood back to admire the sight of her standing there, hands folded demurely in front of her. She looked so shy. Annabelle stepped out of the dress and approached me slowly, tentatively. She nibbled on my neck.
“Compliments make me uncomfortable Michel.”
I felt her hands at my belt buckle, and then my belt slipped loose and landed on the floor with her dress. She pulled the zipper down and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them off when I lifted my legs one at a time. I took her to my bed and laid her down on her back, and after switching on and dimming the lights, started at her feet and kissed a trail from her toes up her legs, nipping at the insides of her knees and thighs.
She squeaked, pushing at my head and knotting her fingers in my hair when I pulled at her lacy panties with my teeth. I reached for them and when I slid my fingers through the sides at her hips she tilted her pelvis to let me slip them down. This was the most magical moment of getting naked with a girl for the first time, when she let you remove her underwear, that permission that’s given, so to speak.
Her skin was soft, smooth and hairless, and I leaned down to kiss a strawberry shaped wine stain birth-mark on her right hip bone. Her fingers were still tangled in my hair, and she dragged me up to kiss me again. Our pelvises met and she rubbed herself against me with soft grinding motions. I reached a hand down, feeling the moisture of her arousal on my fingers as they slipped easily between the silky lips of her sex.
“Anna, I really, really want to be inside you,” I murmured.
Slowly, I stroked the protrusion of her clitoris, and feeling more liquid build against my hand. She opened her eyes and looked straight into mine, holding my head away from hers.
“Then be where you want to be.”
I untangled her hands from my hair and sat up, reached for my side table and brought a condom from my drawer. I slipped out of my fitted boxer briefs and rolled the rubber on. I’d been hard for about an hour, and my cock jumped at the contact. I was truly relieved she wasn’t a virgin, those made any man nervous.
Her soft, warm body undulated beneath me as I lowered my weight onto her, spreading her knees with mine, and when I guided myself into her, she sighed and moaned into my mouth. I tangibly felt her stretch to accommodate the girth of my cock. I wasn’t huge, but she was very tight, and moving slowly inside her was an intensely amazing feeling. I placed my elbows at the sides of her head, and kissed her deeply, she was so small under me.
I had died and gone to heaven in that moment, I had Annabelle’s legs wrapped around me, I was buried as deeply in her as I could be, and my lips were melted to hers. She started moving in concert with me and broke our kiss, and then I felt her lips and teeth on my neck. Our foreheads then met, and when she came, her muscles contracting around me, I was looking into her eyes as I felt even the muscles of her inner thighs tighten. I couldn’t hold out against the intensity of the moment, both the physical sensation of her body, and the emotional connection I felt to this girl. I saw stars when my own orgasm rolled through me, and all the muscles in my lower back tightened. She started giggling when I collapsed onto her, and I frowned down at her.
“What’s funny Miss Smith?” I asked, my arms still shaking next to her face.
She smiled up at me.
“That was amazing; it’s just been so long since I’ve done that, and it was amazing.” Her facial expression changed, “And now I’m scared of where this is going to go…”
A tear ran down her one cheek. I rolled her onto her side, removed the condom and cleaned off. I took Annabelle in my arms and held her.
“This is not going anywhere that’s going to hurt you Anna. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you for the very first time, and I am not going to do anything to cause you pain little mermaid. I know it’s very early to say those things, but they’re true.”
I pulled the blankets over us both and we lay there, Annabelle cradled tightly in my arms, our legs entwined. That’s how we fell asleep, with the lights still on.
I walked Annabelle home the next morning holding hands along the beach, our shoulders touching and our step in time. She smiled up at me when we got to her porch, and I took her in my arms again, lifting her off her feet. She waved goodbye to me after I’d swung her around, standing on her porch with her arms crossed over her chest. She stayed on the porch watching me long after I was far down the beach. I turned around to look at her frequently. I could not believe how lucky I was, the most beautiful girl I had ever known had spent the night in my bed. I had asked her to have dinner with me the following Sunday, not telling her it was my birthday. I just wanted to have somebody to spend the evening with instead of being alone.
8
Saturday was a relaxing day for Annabelle, she tidied her house and went to the shops, having begged the weekend off from her dad. She had done something superbly sneaky, and googled Michel. She knew it was his birthday on Sunday, so she was baking a cake and she had wrapped the painting of the stormy sky to give to him as a birthday gift.
Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but a few strands had escaped and floated around her face. When she reached up from the mixing bowl to brush a strand from her forehead, she left a smear of flour there. Annabelle moved her hips along to the music she listened to, Enrique Iglesias made her bop along with his Spanish voice.
By the late afternoon she had baked a double layer chocolate cake and iced it with chocolate ganache. It was her specialty, a recipe her mother had taught her. She looked in her passage mirror as she walked past to go up to her bedroom when she was done and clamped a hand over her mouth before she burst out laughing. There was flour on her forehead and chocolate in her hair, the side of her one cheek had cake batter on it and her T-shirt was dusted with sugar.
Annabelle fetched her bath kit from the upstairs bathroom and brought it along with a fluffy robe downstairs to take a shower in the spare bathroom. She didn’t feel like soaking in frosting. She stood under the water for a full twenty minutes, washed her hair, and after she was done, plaited it while it was still wet.
She spent the evening on the couch with a book ‘The end of the affair’ by Graham Green. It always made her cry, but she loved the main character, Bendrix; her heart always broke for him. At eleven she stood, checked all the doors were locked and went to bed.
Sunday morning Annabelle woke to the sound of the birds chirping on her window sill. She looked up through a half-closed eye and reailzed it must have been after nine! She hadn’t slept as well as she had the past two nights in years. Her nights were usually broken, ending up with her sitting in the kitchen with tea at all hours haunted by sadness; her dreams usually disturbed by un-pleasantries. She sat up and shook her head, amazed.
“Apparently good sex helps me sleep…” she mumbled.
She was seeing Michel after five, they had planned an early dinner. For all it was worth, she planned to have a Sunday lie-in. She padded down the stairs barefooted and picked her book up off the coffee table before making a large mug of coffee. With everything gathered, Annabelle headed straight back up the stairs, book tucked under her arm, to her bed. After placing her coffee and book on her bedside table and giving the pillows a good fluffing, she leapt back under the covers and proceeded to spend several of the laziest hours she had in several months, drinking coffee, dozing sleepily, and reading.
At four she jumped in the shower and then put on a black skirt and white blouse with ruffles around the neck. She picked up the cake, which was in a container on her kitchen counter, and fetched the wrapped painting. She put everything in her car, definitely not planning on walking down the beach carrying the awkward parcels; one or both of them would end up in the sand. She saw Michel walk out to the drive as she pulled into it, obviously not expecting a car, She smiled as he squinted to see her past the glare of her headlights until she turned off the engine. He opened her door for her and embraced her tightly. She felt him breathe deeply in her neck.
“Hello, you smell so nice, amazing, yummy, almost like cake…” he murmured.
She playfully squirmed in his arms and pushed him away.
“Stop right now Mr. Deverroux, or else we might not get inside, and I have something for you.”
He leaned back and cocked his head at her, frowning.
“Now why would you have anything for me? We are having dinner at my house and I have cooked…”
She grinned, stepped out of his embrace, and opened the back door of the beaten up VW Beetle. She passed the large wrapped painting to Michel and carried the cake herself, shutting the door and walking out in front of him as he stood staring at her, dumbstruck.
“Come on birthday boy, you think I’m not sneaky? I might not have military training, but I sure have Google.”
When she walked inside and put the cake down on the kitchen counter, he stayed standing in the doorway watching her. Annabelle turned around, put her hands on her hips and looked at Michel, who had an expression somewhere between disbelief and sadness on his face.
“Anna, I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I was thirteen.”
She lifted the lid off the cake, and Michel came closer.
“Oh God that smells good. I love chocolate.”
She smacked his hand when he reached a finger toward the cake.
“Uh uh! That’s dessert.”
When he pouted like a little kid she nearly died, it was adorable.
“We can however go and open a certain birthday gift you put down in the passage, and this lack of birthday celebration, it ends now.”
She took his hand and led him to the lounge, picking up the painting as they walked past it.
*********************
I followed Annabelle through to my lounge, sat down on the couch next to her and then bit back a sigh as she handed the parcel to me. I was going to have to own up to my past if I wanted to build a life with her, and that was very likely a conversation that could send her running for the hills. I lifted the tape that held down the wrapping paper and started opening up what felt like a canvas. Slowly a painting was revealed to me, and I smiled when I held it up to the lamplight,
“Did you do this?” I asked, looking across at her.
When she nodded, I leaned over to kiss her, the painting still in my hands.
“Thank you, I think this is quite possibly the most awesome gift I’ve ever received. I’m going to hang it right now, look, over there on the wall where the stairs come down, it will work beautifully with the dark blue of the wall the TV screen is mounted on don’t you think?”
Annabelle nodded, smiling at my enthusiasm, it actually would work perfectly. I looked again at the area I had in mind.
“You’d best be careful to not get distracted when you’re trying to watch TV and stare at the painting instead…” she called after me as I walked off to the kitchen, returning with a hammer and picture hooks.
“While you do that Michel, I will pour us wine,” she said, and stood to leave the lounge.
Annabelle returned with two glasses and a bottle of wine. She had a peculiar expression on her face, and I sensed trouble. I put down the hammer and walked over to her, flinching when she took a step back with a very defensive expression on her face.
“Do you
want to explain to me why there is a duffel bag of money in your pantry cupboard where the wine rack goes?” She asked, turning her head down and looking deeply suspicious.
“I can explain that,” I said, sitting down on the armrest of the couch. “When I came here from Afghanistan I was in a bad place after losing my friends. I had no contact with anyone still there, and lost the only family I still had contact with. I used drugs for a while to numb me from feeling anything, and in between all of that I got caught up in a bit of dealing. Some people I have contact with supplied Coke. I gave it to Allen, a local dealer, and that money is what came from it.”
I stopped, waiting for her reaction, for the running and screaming to start, for the glass to be thrown at me, anything like that. I was expecting anger, because that is how every single woman I had known in my life would have reacted.