by Kara Hart
The long nights away from parents. Sneaking out of your house at a decent hour, only to get caught the next day. The thrill of being young. The danger. All of that seems to disappear once you get past a certain age. The dangers suddenly become real and terrifying. Love is no longer a game. You can lose your life over love. You can lose yourself over it too.
So you dig holes and build walls to try and create a castle of good for yourself. Only, that empire you’ve been clinging to is no empire at all. It’s a void of self-eradication, meant to pull you under. When you open your eyes, you’re ten years past yourself. You’re in a black ocean and the tide is the only thing you can hope to hold onto. It pushes you down and makes you face your worst fears. In the end, you only have yourself to blame for the years you’ve lost.
Well, I don’t want to feel that way anymore. I don’t want to have to grab on to anything, just to keep afloat. I just want to keep my eyes open and breathe freely, flying in the air. I see it. I see the big dome in front of me. Letters barely hang above the door: “SKATE.” Moss has grown over the cement. Bushes surround the parking lot, now faded from years of neglect.
“This is it,” he says. The sound of the car’s turning signal clicks and it begins to rain outside. “Not again,” he sighs.
“I like it,” I say. “Reminds me of when I was a little girl.”
He parks the car and looks over at me. “You’re endearing as hell,” he says.
I squint my eyes at him and click my lips together. “Ready to run?”
“Ready when you are,” he says.
“On my mark!” I exclaim. “3-2-1-GO!”
We fly out of the car, running toward the entrance. Rain drops fall across our heads. He attempts to shield our roller skates and the stereo, all while punching in the code on the lockbox outside. When he finally gets it, we’re drenched. We fall inside, toward the darkness, and can’t see a damn thing.
“Shit!” I scream. “Michael, please tell me this is safe.”
There’s no reply. The door shuts and all light is completely shut out. “Michael?” Still, no answer. “Fuck, fuck fuck.”
“Boo.” I feel a hand on my shoulder and I jump back, nearly swinging. A light turns on and I see Michael laughing hysterically to himself.
“You bastard!” I scream. “Not funny.” A shiver runs up my spine, to my shoulders.
He wraps his arms around me, so I feel protected and safe once more. “It was pretty funny, though.” He kisses my cheek. I push him away from me, playfully.
He runs and clicks a light switch. Nothing turns on. “One second,” he says. He runs to the other side of the building and hits the fuse box. Bright lights turn on. An old disco ball, loosely hangs above the middle of the rink, worn down from years of spinning for the masses.
He grabs the half-wet stereo box and walks toward a booth, off to the side. “Hope this works,” he says.
Meanwhile, I put on my roller skates and try my best to balance. It’s been years since I’ve done this, but when I was a kid, I loved to go to the roller rink. Skating with friends was exhilarating and when the slow songs came on, I remember that strange feeling of wanting to find someone to feel close with.
With a little tweaking, I hear the speakers turn on. “I got it!” he yells. I hear the familiar sounds of Jock Jams Volume 1 come on the speakers. “Tootsie Roll” blasts throughout the rink as Michael picks up an old microphone. “Alright, you skaters, have fun and be safe out there!” he says. He jumps down from the booth and runs over to grab his skates.
When he has them on, he carefully makes his way onto the rink with me. The problem is that once he’s on the actual rink, he’s really good at skating. He picks up speed and circles around me. He spins and stops in front of me. “Okay, how are you so good at this?” I ask.
“I honestly have no clue,” he says. He picks me up in his arms and I scream, out of initial fear of falling. But he keeps me in the air, steadily, and he moves without any problem. I wrap my hands around his neck and close my eyes as the lights shine across the disco ball overhead us.
As we move around the circle, I kiss his rugged face. His hands grip tighter on me. “I like this,” I say. “I’ve never actually had fun with someone like this.”
“Really?” He looks surprised.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I mean, I’ve been out with friends, obviously, but I’ve never had a guy think of me like you have.”
“I just want to experience things with you,” he says, slowing down. We stop off to the side and sit on the carpeted curb. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve wasted so much time with other shit. With the business, the whole family drama, and, of course, myself. I just want to live a little, you know?”
“I know.” I nod my head. “I know it all too well.”
A slower song comes on and I feel all the emotions rush to my body. He skates away from me, so I move to catch up to him. We fall in each other’s arms once more, pushing the strain of life away from us, with every move. His arms are so warm around my body. He can’t stop moving his hands and touching me. I don’t want him to stop.
In the glitter of the rink, we become something else. It’s as if we’re floating in space, within the infinite curtains of time, while light reflects its magnitude over the pure darkness of life’s mystery. Once more, we kiss and taste the struggle that is known as falling for someone. We can’t get enough in our cups.
We lower our bodies to the dusty floor, unable to care about the trivialities of our surroundings. This building has been left by the wayside, left to be demolished by pure forgetfulness. But tonight, it’s strangely alive. Its memories and the nostalgia it holds are a beacon for two souls meant to come together.
I lift up my shirt and unclip the back of my bra. He takes off his shirt and I place my hand over his chest. I feel every ripple of muscle against my palm. His body is warm and powerful, like fire. When he places his hand against each breast, I feel so small, and yet so adored. My skin grows tight and I shiver with excitement.
Slowly, I undo his belt, letting the leather and metal hang unhinged, as I move my palm over the middle of his jeans. He’s already hard. I can feel it growing steadily. As I unzip him, my heart beats hard against my sternum. There is nothing to be said. Our bodies are meant to be touched. They were made to be held, kissed, even licked.
“There’s no one out there like you,” he whispers. My face turns a deep shade of pink. I place my finger against his lips. He wraps his tongue around it and smiles. I move close to him and watch as his tongue moves toward my own lips. I extend mine out. Our mouths are watering for more. When we are around each other, we always want to take it to another level. Our tongues extend and meet, practically in midair. He pulls me in and I’m done for.
I’m wet. My inner thighs are soaking. I push my body on top of his and straddle him. I pull his jeans down, alongside my shorts. My panties are completely wet at this point. His fingers brush against the middle of my panties, and pushes them off to the side. I moan with anticipatory relief.
“You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?” he asks.
I close my eyes and nod slowly, biting my lower lip. “You know I do,” I whisper, grinding myself on him. He’s not yet inside me. He’s just teasing me, thrusting his hard shaft against my lips and clit. Our bodies press against one another.
The heat between us radiates within the cold building. There is nothing but what we evoke. At least, not right now. The world is nothing, but a shade of things to affect us. In this moment, I open my eyes and look at his face, rugged and handsome. His lips arc in all the right places, looking strangely strong, yet honest. He’s the all-American man, the working guy who has sacrificed everything just to get where he is today.
This man wants me. I claw at his skin and he smiles with excitement. He kisses me passionately, and with urgency. Through the hushed moans and heart-piercing breathing, he finds his way inside me. His hard shaft slides in and, for a split second, all time stops in front of
me. My back arches back and I sit upright. My eyes dart open and my pupils expand. “Fuck,” I whisper.
When my mouth falls open, I push forward, against his chest. He wraps those arms around me again. My head falls across his shoulder. He thrusts upward with intense velocity and strength. I turn and kiss his neck, pulling back on the skin. He is seething with desire, holding me where he wants me. I just keep growing wetter and wetter, as he drives himself into me. My lips cover his perfect cock, tightening around him. We’re a match made in heaven.
I flip onto my back. I look up at the spinning lights and his body, covered in glistening dots and abstract shapes. As he positions himself over me, I can feel everything in my body change. I become so in tune with him that I let myself get swayed by his rhythm.
He slides back inside me, slow. Yet, when he pushes in as deep as he can go, he comes back, faster, harder. I can barely take it. He lifts up my back and loses himself. “You’re so fucking warm,” he says. “And tight. You fit me so perfectly, baby.”
I can’t help but feel my heart pumping out endorphins. I close my eyes and think of everything we could be together. Married. Kids. Happy and traveling around the world. It’s an insane idea. He’s been married before. He’s done all of that. He has a kid, already, and I’m just the girl he wants like this forever.
The fantasy is something that gives me warmth and purpose. I don’t have much else in this town. I have this job, sure. Other than that, I’ve got him now. In this moment, I have everything. I have him, one hundred percent.
“You’re huge,” I tell him, opening my eyes again.
He pounds me so hard that the floor starts to shake. “You like it, baby?” he asks.
He pushes me to the edge and back. I feel it. I feel my pussy clench around him, as if I need him. I feel the quick pinch of pleasure form in the center of my body. I feel it begin to swell. It rises and falls, forms and begins to move in all directions. I nod at him. “I… love… that cock…” I mutter.
“How much do you love it? Tell me.” he asks me.
I look forward and watch as he guides it inside me. Every single inch gets lost within me. I feel him and it’s becoming unbearable. “I need it, Michael. It’s perfect. It’s so big,” I moan. I can barely hang on anymore. It’s the kind of thing you say to a man to feed his ego, but with Michael, it’s different. I actually mean those words. He’s perfect in every way.
He can see it in my eyes. Maybe he can feel it in my body. The trembling, the simple muscle spasms, the grabbing of the palms and leaning of my feet. Those are the signs that a woman is about to lose it. “I want to cum with you,” he says.
He lifts up my head so that we’re staring into one another’s eyes. Everything slowly dissipates. I’m in a dream, wonderland with him. My vision becomes like static on an old television screen. All of the pain that I’ve felt falls away, and I’m left with enormous pleasure.
He buries himself in me until nothing can be seen. “Oh, fuck,” he moans. It comes from the chest, from the heart itself. Pulse after pulse, wave after wave, he releases his hot cum inside of me. I feel it, warm and deep, and all I can do is kiss his face twice, before letting go and lowering my body back to the ground. We move against one another, slower now, as the rhythm begins to ebb away.
“You’re the best girlfriend I’ve ever had,” he growls.
Michael
“You’re the best girlfriend I’ve ever had.” It was a slip of the tongue, but I said it, alright. The words definitely came from me. I’m not sure why, or how, but they did. Now, I’m face to face with Emily and I have some explaining to do.
“Girlfriend?” she repeats. “Are you serious?”
When I gaze into her eyes, I see the look of a woman of beauty and passion, who has been let down far too many times. In another life, Emily was probably a princess somewhere in Europe, or the daughter of a rich Duke. That’s how special she is.
In this modern world, she was never given a chance. That’s why I don’t want to let her down. I don’t want to promise her the world, if I can’t come through with it. I’ve done that before with Susan. I thought I was strong. I thought I could light up the world for her, but ultimately I failed.
“I don’t know,” I say. “It just kind of came out.”
These are not the words she wants to hear, but it’s the damn truth. I don’t want to promise her something I can’t fulfill. When I get caught up in the moment, I say things I feel. Sometimes, I go too far. “Okay,” she scoffs and grabs her clothes. She quickly puts on her shorts and walks away from the old rink.
I run after her and brush against her arm. She pulls it away. I feel my stomach sink. “Emily,” I mutter, but there’s nothing else to say, besides “I’m sorry,” the two words that never feel like they’re enough.
“Let’s just go, okay?” she says.
The light reflects onto her face. She’s beautiful, like a lost painting. Her eyes are glossy and soft. The blue is piercing, but addicting to look at. All I can feel, however, is the pain that I am causing her.
“Okay. We’ll go,” I whisper. I don’t even bother to grab my things. I simply walk out that door and open my car door for her.
She’s not a simple fuck. She’s so much more than that. But there’s something inside of me that won’t let me be that close to someone anymore. The problem is, I want to give in so bad. Her pussy is so sweet, her body so delicious, and the fact of the matter is I just love being around her.
In the car, however, it’s silent. There’s the sound of the wind against the car doors. There’s the light rolling of the tires, against some of the puddles. When we hit my gravel, she opens the door and nearly jumps out. “Wait,” I say. “Don’t leave.”
“I have to, Michael. I have to go home,” she says.
“Tonight was special to me,” I say.
She nods, but quickly turns her head away from me. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” she says.
“But I do. I’ve never felt so alive with someone in my life,” I tell her. I groan and rub my palm across my face, in quiet desperation. I can’t figure out what the right move is here.
“Then what? What’s your problem? Why do you keep doing this?” she asks.
“Because my words have a way of fucking me over,” I admit.
“Well, maybe you should choose them more carefully,” she fires back.
“Yeah. I know. Look, you know about my past,” I say.
“You know about mine too,” she says. In the darkness of night, I can barely see her face, but I can see the moon reflect off her subtle tears. I’ve hurt her. I hurt everyone who comes near me. She wipes them away and continues. “You can’t keep using that as a scapegoat. I’ll respect your feelings, but please, learn to respect mine.”
She walks to her car. “Wait!” I yell.
She opens the door and shakes her head. “I’m not waiting. Not this time,” she whispers.
Just like that, her car disappears into the night. It happens so fast. First, she’s here, next there’s just a cloud of dust where she once stood. I nearly fall to the ground. Instead, I grasp against the hood of my car. The engine is hot and immediately burns my skin.
“Fuck!” I scream. I kick the front, denting it in.
I hold my palm and sigh, closing my eyes. This was the best night ever, until it turned into the worst night of my life. I know it’s my own damn fault. Everything I’ve failed at is. Next will be the business, no doubt. If we don’t get everything up to code, we’re fucked. But I can’t even think about that right now. All I can think about is her, Emily.
I have to take a stand.
I get back in my car and turn on the headlights. I turn the keys to the ignition and peel out of my driveway so fast that I nearly spin out. I pull out my phone and scroll to her address. There’s no use in wasting any time. “What do you want?” I ask myself. I want her, of course.
Am I ready? That’s always been the fear. It’s easy to believe in something, yet
stand away from it, eyeing from a distance. What’s hard is jumping off that high cliff. It takes bravery and courage to do it. It takes a leap of faith.
Jesus, it was scary with Lisa. We had her, my daughter, and I thought I’d never make it. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to be a father to that child. And then it happened. I was fine. Everything pieced together to make it work.
I turn the corner. My heart’s beating a million beats per second. I can’t stop. Not now. I turn another corner and I see her place. I park off to the side. I walk up to the door and see her in front of it, sitting in a chair and looking at the ground. She jumps when she sees me. “What the fuck, Michael!” she yells.
“I couldn’t let you go,” I say. I’m out of breath and feeling fucking insane, but that’s not stopping me.
“Well, maybe you should. I don’t think I’m coming into work tomorrow,” she says. “Or the next day either. I’m pretty much fucking done.”
“You’re mine,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been mine since the day we laid eyes on each other. Don’t stay here tonight. Or better yet, let me stay here with you. I want you, Emily. Be my girlfriend, dammit,” I say.
Her eyes roll off to the side. She laughs, biting her lip. “You do realize that’s the cheesiest thing anyone’s ever said to me before, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, I didn’t really work it out too well before I came after you.” I smile.
“You’re a real bastard, Michael Vanderbilt,” she says.
But I know that with Emily, a statement like that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m doing all that bad. I’m falling into the clear. Even though this is murky territory and a lot is at stake, sometimes you just have to fall into the water and see what happens. If this all blows up in our faces, at least we fucking tried. At least we stood for something.
“So, what the hell are we doing?” She finally stands up and leans against the door. “Because I can’t keep feeling like this.”