Truth Undressed (Exposed Series, #3)

by Kelly, Hazel

  And to think I was panicked about going to Maryland!

  And now I understood. She never could’ve done half that stuff with a baby or a little kid.

  Of course, I didn’t know if she wanted to do those things or if she because she couldn’t bear to just sit at home after she gave me up. Either way, the important thing was that she hadn’t wasted her short life. Which made me glad. Because she’d obviously been happy.

  And at the time, I’d been happy, too.

  I flipped to the next photo and saw that it was one she took of herself from arms-length away. It looked like it was taken ten or fifteen years earlier, but the date wasn’t on the back so I couldn’t be sure. In it, her mouth was smiling but her eyes looked sad and she was pointing to a tree trunk beside her that had freshly carved words in it. It said I love you, Kate.

  I felt a lump in my throat and tried to swallow it.

  This whole time I’d been wondering how she could give me away, how she could give up part of herself. But it wasn’t like that. She just didn’t want us to hold each other back. So she made sure I would have what I needed like any good mom would do. Then she did what she needed to do for herself.

  And even when we were apart, she took me with her. Not physically, of course. But in the only way she knew how.

  Chapter 20: Dawn

  Dear Kate,

  You must be wondering about what kind of guy your real father was. And if you’re not, maybe you will be someday, and you’ll be glad you have this.

  I wish I could tell you what he’s like now, but I can’t. All I know is that he moved to Texas years ago. Last I heard he was married and working at a local news channel. So you can probably find him if you want to. I wouldn’t necessarily encourage it, though, because I don’t want you to hurt any more than you already do. Plus, it’s hard for me to believe that he would exceed even the low expectations you would justifiably have for him.

  However, I do understand that you might be curious to know more about him. The best I can do is tell you who he was and what he was like when he was with me.

  I met Scott in my twenties through a mutual friend of ours who was in a band. The night I met him, he was wearing a touch of eyeliner and jeans so tight that nowadays I’m pretty sure they’re only legal in Europe. Anyway, I thought he was the only groupie that wasn’t plastered, but he was just really good at holding his drink. Which is something that I always admired in people.

  He did an obvious double take when he first saw me, and I remember vividly how that made me feel. Not only because I was flattered, but because he was the most attractive man I’d ever seen. He asked me if I wanted a whiskey and I said sure, and when he reached for a glass, I reached for the bottle. He was impressed. Love at first swig I guess.

  We were pretty much inseparable after that first night. His sense of humor was filthy and he often made me laugh so hard I would get cramps in my side, and I’d have to beg him to stop. He also swore like a truck driver and pretended- like most guys- to be a lot tougher than he was.

  For example, his favorite food was strawberries. And he was really interested in motorcycles even though he didn’t have one or know how to ride one. He was athletic though. And he was proud of the fact that he could do a perfect belly flop, the kind of belly flop that would make everyone on the pool deck squeal and cringe. Afterwards, his stomach would be bright red for hours, but he loved the attention more than he hated the pain.

  We moved in together into a small studio apartment where our only expenses were rent and alcohol and drugs (back when they weren’t nearly as dangerous as they are today, fyi). I remember that time fondly, especially when I consider all the new things he introduced me to. Like Wagner’s music and Franz Marc’s paintings. But he always hid the fact that he was smart from other people.

  I don’t know why. I guess it made him feel vulnerable somehow if people knew he wasn’t an idiot. Plus, he liked people to be comfortable around him, and they were. He could win over anybody. Even guys who were obviously intimidated by his looks.

  Cause I’m telling you, he was handsome enough to be a movie star. It’s no surprise to me that he went on to work in television. He could even do accents really well which he often did when he was telling filthy jokes. His favorites were ones with Scottish or Irish people in them. He was so convincing you’d think he was from the other side of the Atlantic.

  Unfortunately, his actual acting ability was terrible. Which is why even when he wanted to pretend for me that he was happy I was pregnant, he couldn’t. And after that something broke between us.

  Because I swear before you were a peanut, I could tell that you were special. And I knew that if I stopped your little heartbeat, it would be the biggest mistake of my life. And he didn’t understand. It was just one of those things that comes between people and changes everything.

  It divided us indefinitely.

  But you were born out of love. You need never doubt that. I know that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re probably feeling a little rejected. But the truth is everyone will be rejected by someone they care about at some point. And it doesn’t matter if it’s a friend or a lover or a family member. Getting rejected is part of life. Hopefully, you’ve gotten all yours out of the way already.

  But even if you haven’t, you weren’t alone. Remember he rejected me, too. And he never even gave you a chance. He never knew how lovable and special you were. He didn’t know what he was walking out on. And as far I’m concerned, he failed both of us in the most serious way someone can fail another.

  Afterwards, I promise you I felt alone enough for both of us. And I did everything I could to try and make sure you would never feel alone. So forget him and his bad, cowardly behavior. Don’t let it define you. You should never let rejection define you anyway. No matter where it comes from.

  Because you know what really defines you? Acceptance.

  If you haven’t already figured it out, the people that love and accept you are a far more accurate reflection of who you are. So dwell on that. Because I’m pretty sure that makes you the richest little girl in the world.

  It’s okay to be angry, though. At me and Scott. It’s okay to blame us for painful feelings you might be having now. My only hope is that you’ll get over it. And I don’t mean to be harsh, just real. Blaming your parents won’t get you anywhere in life. It will give you plenty of excuses to dwell on, but it’s never the answer. Because having fucked up parents doesn’t make you special.

  Everyone’s parents are fucked up in their own way. After all, parents are just people, and most people are a mess. And unfortunately, you don’t need any qualifications to become a parent even though it’s the most important job you could ever possibly have: the job of not fucking someone up before they realize that you’re just human, that you’re just faking it.

  In fact, having parents is the great equalizer. It’s what makes sure that nobody enters the world completely self-assured or properly adjusted.

  At the end of the day, we all just have to do the best with what we’ve got on the inside and let go of what happened before we were old enough to have a say. You’re not accountable for the choices that other people made for you. But like it or not, you will be held responsible for the choices you make for yourself going forward.

  So choose wisely. All anyone can do is try to succeed despite their parents. Don’t waste your time on self-pity and wishing you could change the past. Just be grateful that the sun came up today, that the zombie apocalypse hasn’t happened yet, and get on with it.

  Love Always,

  Dawn

  Chapter 21: Kate

  Kevin and I were doing less and less talking when I would go over to his house. It had almost become a joke to see how many other things we could pretend to be interested in before we started pawing at each other.

  I honestly don’t know who wanted to rip off the other person’s clothes more. I’d never had that kind of mutually lustastic relationship with someone. I mean, a l
ot of times we didn’t even get drunk or stoned before we fooled around which was a big deal for me.

  Maybe it wasn’t for him because he’d dated his ex for almost a year. But for me, it was weird to hook up with someone without my senses being dulled. It took some getting used to. For the first time, I understood how much drugs really did lessen my inhibitions and make me more confident. And it was kind of hard to relax and disappear into myself when I was so… alert.

  Especially when I was lying on my back and all of a sudden he moved down to unzip my pants. It made me nervous to have someone down there when I was sober. It was like sensory overload before he even got the zipper all the way down.

  And I always worried about what guys were really thinking when they went down on me. I mean, I’m sure they were partly preoccupied with making me feel good, but that probably didn’t take all their brainpower. Especially if you were a professional like Kevin. And even though I was freshly showered so my snatch smelled sort of like a pungent flower bed, I didn’t have a clue how it tasted.

  I was curious, sure, but I couldn’t get past sniffing my fingers after I touched myself. Which I only did once. And that felt weird enough. Then again, I knew lots of mother’s tasted their own breast milk which was also a bodily fluid, but that didn’t seem the same. Plus, a guy would never dream of tasting his own brand, right? And yet they expect their girlfriends to drink it like it’s the last Sunkist on Earth.

  And then there was the whole issue of my grooming which I’d had an unnatural preoccupation with ever since Ian. And I knew Kevin had seen at least one other vag up close, but it drove me crazy wondering how it compared. Surely most women my age weren’t getting waxed, but that made staying “bald” intolerable. I mean, what was the point of shaving everything if it was just replaced with angry looking, scratchy razor burn? Plus, it looked creepy to me. Like if I didn’t look nine years old anywhere else, why should I behind my underwear?

  I heard it was the porn industry's influence, but I couldn’t help but wonder if there was any relation to pedophilia. I mean, aren’t pedos attracted to hairless, smooth, immature looking crotch? So if the rest of us allowed that look to become the norm, weren’t we just encouraging a blurry line there and doing society a gross disservice.

  Okay, so maybe that’s blowing it out of proportion. Still, I just didn’t have sufficient time, motivation, or Tend Skin to mimic Barbie. As a result, I had settled on a sort of middle ground. My bikini line was shaved and my tuft was closely trimmed. But it wasn’t so short that it affected my ability to grind against the base of Kevin’s monster cock.

  Honestly, it was so big that other big things started to remind me of it. Like remote controls and water bottles and my forearm. Sometimes I worried that he would stretch me out so I’d never be tight for anyone again. But I decided that even if I had to do Kegels every day for the rest of my life, having him was worth it.

  But at that moment, his cock wasn’t anywhere near me. After slipping my bottoms off and dropping them in a heap at the end of the bed, he grabbed my ankles and pulled them apart.

  I was only smiling because he was. Inside, I was terrified. He’d never gone down on me when I was sober before, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to relax enough to enjoy it.

  “Relax,” he said, climbing back up onto the bed between my legs. He slid his palms underneath the back of my legs until his hands were wrapped around my thighs. Then he stuck his tongue out and wagged it at me.

  I laughed. But I stopped laughing as soon as he touched it to me because it sent a jolt of heat through my body. He moved it softly against me, warming me up one degree at a time. I couldn’t bear to watch so as soon as he pulled my thighs around his face, I let my head press back into the pillow and closed my eyes.

  After all, there was nothing for me to do but lay back and enjoy the feeling of him lapping waves through me. Once he got going I couldn’t worry about what he was thinking anymore. All my energy was being spent trying to hold still so I wouldn’t start writhing on the bed.

  Soon I released a little groan, and Kevin responded by picking up the pace at which his tongue flicked my hot clit. As the pressure inside me grew, I couldn’t stop myself from tilting my hips towards him.

  It took all my strength to open my eyes and peek. I could see his dark curls moving eagerly between my legs as he dug his fingertips into my thighs.

  When I closed my eyes again, I felt one of his hands slide off my leg. A second later two thick fingers plunged into me, causing me to cry out. It felt like he was stirring my insides with his fingers and bringing me to a boil with his tongue.

  “I’m gonna come Kevin,” I said breathlessly. “You’re gonna make me come.”

  He curled his fingers inside me and pressed his thumb alongside his tongue. A moment later my whole body jolted and I gasped for breath. He slid his fingers out and I could hear him drinking me as I melted into his mouth.

  When I opened my eyes, I was smiling like an idiot, and he was smiling back.

  “Come here,” I said, making a come hither gesture with my finger. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pulled him to me. Then I kissed him, and I could taste my sweet, inoffensive pleasure on his lips.

  “I want to come inside you,” he whispered.

  I smiled. Ever since he’d found out that I was on the pill, coming inside me had become his new favorite thing. And mine, too. I liked how he would drip out of me for hours afterwards when I wasn’t expecting it. It was like being reminded of a sexy secret.

  “How do you want me?” I asked, dizzy with pleasure.

  “Turn around,” he said.

  He backed off me slowly so I could roll over. I rose on all fours and shook my ass in front of him.

  He grabbed my hips and pulled me close. I could feel his dick against my butt cheek as he reached forward and fondled my breasts for a moment. Then he slid a hand down the side of my rib cage and grabbed my hip. I felt his cock stiffen even more as he smacked it against my ass.

  I reached between my legs, grabbed him, and stroked him a few times. Then I guided him towards my still pulsing pussy.

  He plunged in so fast I yelped as my arm shot forward so I could steady myself. He felt even bigger when he took me that way, and it was as scary as it was exciting.

  He pulled out slowly almost all the way and then pulled me back onto him, and I wished I could see what he was seeing as he slipped in and out of me. Then he sped up for a moment, and I dropped to my elbows and held my breath. Finally he groaned and pushed himself as deep inside me as he could.

  I felt like I’d been shattered from the inside out, and I collapsed against the bed, taking Kevin with me. I could still feel my pussy throbbing around him as I lay there with the weight of his body on me, his breath hot against my neck.

  Fortunately, I didn’t have enough air in my lungs to speak, because if I had, I might have told him what I was thinking. Which was that I loved him.

  “You’re a fucking goddess, Kate, you know that?”

  I laughed. “That was epic.”

  He rolled off me and propped himself up on his elbow. I stayed on my belly, turning my head towards him on the pillow.

  “I’m going to miss that,” I said.

  A crease deepened between his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

  “When I go to school,” I said, “but you’ll come visit me won’t you?”

  “I thought you were staying here? Because of your Aunt’s apartment?”

  “I never said that.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going away?”

  “I tried.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Yes I did, Kevin, and you always interrupt me or try to change the subject.”

  “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Well, you know I’m staying here for school.”

  The air in the room went from warm to muggy.

  “I’m not breaking up with you,�
� I said. I couldn’t tell him how strongly I felt about him. Not then. Not when I felt so fragile and naked all of a sudden. “You can come visit me in Maryland.”

  “Why do you have to go to Maryland?”

  “Cause I want to play lacrosse.”

  “You don’t have to go that far away to play lacrosse!”

  “I already accepted the offer. I got a scholarship.”

  “Well you’ve made your choice then.”

  “That’s not fair. I’m not not choosing you!”

  “Kate,” he said, sitting up and reaching for his boxers at the end of the bed. “I’m not going to be the pathetic guy you left at home while you’re off at college parties with East Coast assholes throwing themselves at you.”

  “We can visit each other,” I said, sitting up. “And talk on the phone.” I crawled to the edge of the bed and grabbed my clothes off the floor. “It won’t be that bad.”

  “I’d be too jealous,” he said. “I’d go crazy.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  His face was cold. “It doesn’t matter if I trust you,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

  “Of course it does. That’s the only thing that matters!”

  He just shook his head.

  I wrapped my arms around him, pinning his arms down at his sides and hugging him as tight as I could.

  He lifted his hands so they covered my bare back and rested his cheek on my shoulder. “You’ll find someone else, Kate, and it’ll kill me when it happens.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A single tear rolled down my face and I squeezed him tighter so he wouldn’t see. “Don’t do this, Kevin. It’s breaking my heart.”

  “Mine, too,” he said, smoothing my hair against the back of my head. “Mine, too.”

  Chapter 22: Dawn

  I know I was an absent mother. I wish I could say that was the only mistake I made, but it wasn’t. In fact, I made lots of mistakes. Far too many to revisit here, especially in my delicate state.