Nothing More Beautiful

by Lorelai LaBelle

  “Vince loves you, Maci,” she comforted me, embracing me with a strong hug. “You know that.” That didn’t answer my question though. What else did I want her to say? There was no way to guess what would happen next. I sat glued to the TV for the rest of the day and long into the night until I eventually passed out from exhaustion.

  AFTER THREE DAYS OF waiting, with my gut twisted like a rag, my nerves going haywire, and my brain concocting a million dramatic scenarios, Vince finally returned. He had called every day, but they were all short, vague conversations about what was going on. “Skye and the other survivor, Danny Larson, are coming in this afternoon. I told them we’d have dinner with them,” he said, sitting in my office chair.

  “Dinner with them? Tonight?”

  “Is that all right?” he asked, though it sounded like he was going with or without me.

  “To meet your ex-fiancée? The woman you’ve been pining over these last three years.” I shook my head, flustered. “Her death shattered your heart, Vince, and I’m a little confused what this means about you and me.”

  “You and me? This doesn’t affect you and me.”

  “How can it not affect us?” I raised my voice. “You’ve been in love with her forever. You couldn’t even let go of her to sleep with Alma or anyone else.”

  “Until you,” he defended. “You entered my life and rescued me from that hell, that lost wandering that I’d been doing for so long. That was you, Maci. I’m in love with you … I just want to be there for her, as a friend. She’s been gone for three years, for Christ’s sake! You can’t expect me to just push her aside like she never existed.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking,” I said. His mood changed, more hostile than composed. “I’m not asking you to pretend she wasn’t this huge part of your life. I’m asking you what this means for our future.”

  “I don’t know,” he said curtly, the honesty bare. “All I know is that I love you.”

  “And you love her.”

  He didn’t answer, his eyes on the floor. He rose suddenly. “I’d like it if you came to dinner and met them. I made a reservation at Castagna for seven o’clock.” He headed for the door. “I don’t know what to do to remind you that I love you, but you’re the only woman for me now. I hope that you believe that.” He disappeared through the door before I could form a coherent reply.

  I wanted to believe those words. Knowing Vince’s history, though, made it difficult. Her death almost cost him his life. What would her life cost him now? I fought off all the jealousy and doubt—swallowing it down—and resolved to arrive at dinner collected and convivial.

  BRIDGETT AND DANIELLE TRIED to calm my nerves the rest of the day. When seven arrived, I was poised, ready for the evening and any unforeseen hiccup thrown my way. After parking Eddie, I checked my watch. 7:04. Only four minutes late—not bad. I walked into the corner restaurant. It was tiny and awkward. I scanned the whole space, which took about five seconds. Vince was absent, and from the pictures I had seen of Skye, so was she.

  Before panic took control, I asked the hostess, but she didn’t have a reservation under Forte or Vince. “Your party is probably eating at the main restaurant, one door down.”

  “What is this?”

  “The café,” she responded. “It’s a common mistake. If you want, I can go check for you.”

  “No, that’s okay.” I walked around to the main restaurant. The dim lighting hurt my eyes, adjusting from the sunlight. The hostess there led me to the table, where Vince and two others sat. They all stood for introductions. Vince leaned in for a kiss, happy that I decided to join them.

  In spite of her emaciated body, I couldn’t believe how stunning Skye was. Her shoulder-length chestnut hair was clean despite the harsh years, her teeth white, and overall, she still possessed a classy elegance. But what really caught my attention were her eyes, burning with endurance—a flame of willpower that couldn’t be extinguished. Danny looked a little more ragged, with sunken eyes, extremely thin hair that would have looked better shaved, his body surrounded by an aura of fatigue.

  After I sat, my brain decided to trip, unable to form any words. What could I say? This woman had just spent three years in hell and survived. I didn’t know the etiquette for such a situation. Silence burdened the table.

  “So, Vince tells me you own a bakery,” Skye said, trying to jumpstart the conversation.

  “And brunch house, yeah,” I replied. “I co-own it with a friend from culinary school.”

  “That must be exciting,” she said pleasantly.

  “It is … it’s also tiring.”

  “Maci gets to work at 4:45,” Vince added. “She’s one of the hardest working people I’ve ever seen.” After that, he started throwing out compliments like he was trying to prove my worth. I couldn’t tell if he was comparing us or if he was verbally reminding himself of all the reasons why he cared for me.

  Vince and Skye carried the conversation, but later in the evening, after a few glasses of sweet white wine, my tongue loosened up. “I just have to ask you,” I started. “After three years without washing your hair, how on earth does it still look so fantastic?”

  “Oh, I did wash it,” she said. “We washed ashore with a few bags and suitcases. Danny sacrificed a lot of the shampoo for me. He said he was balding and didn’t need it.”

  “It’s true,” Danny said. He hadn’t spoken much all night, and only added in bits and pieces, never starting a conversation. He interlocked his hand with hers over the table. I glanced over at Vince and saw his surprise. “I never really had great hair anyway, and who would want such a gorgeous head of locks to fall out? The only hard part was keeping up nutrition. We both became pretty good fishermen early on, and there was some wild fruit that grew on the island.”

  “The amazing thing about the whole experience is that we only saw two planes in three years,” Skye said, “and both were too far away to see our distress signal. But we made it though. We survived.”

  Vince smiled. “So what are your plans now?”

  “Well, that’s something Danny and I wanted to talk to you about tonight,” Skye said, her voice soft and warm. “You offered to help us get our lives back on track, and we really appreciate the gesture, but all we want to do is settle down some place small, and far inland, maybe in Colorado or Wyoming. We haven’t decided yet.” She locked eyes with Danny. “We want to start a new life, together, away from big cities, and be a part of a true community. You understand?”

  Vince sucked his bottom lip, holding back the pain. “I understand,” he said calmly.

  “We’re leaving on Friday to stay with my parents until we plan out what we want to do,” she said.

  A small part of me was jumping up and down with glee. Another part was feeling Vince’s pain. I sensed how hard it would be for him to let her go for a second time. There was an intense emotional struggle going on in his head. Yet, I couldn’t see how they could live in the same city and just be friends. There was too much history, too much emotion behind them, deep down in them, even if both professed they were moving on.

  “That’s not a lot of time to catch up,” Vince said.

  “It’s been four days, Vince, and you’ve barely left our side,” she noted. “I think all of us here know that we can’t move on unless we’re apart.” Danny looked at Vince with a hard, emotionless face, while she gave him one of apology. “It’s the way it has to be.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I agree, I just didn’t think—”

  “The shorter, the easier,” she cut in.

  Vince choked back his words. “Right.”

  The night wound down and the couple left soon after that. It was tough to read what Vince was thinking. He seemed scarred, but he also wore an ostensibly serene smile, which made it impossible to judge. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” I asked him.

  “I think I’m going to go for a drive, clear my head, you know?” He put down a couple hundreds for th
e bill, standing up. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

  There was no sense talking him out of it. “Sure,” was all I said, letting him disappear into the night.

  WE TALKED LITTLE THE next day. I gleamed that Skye and Danny were leaving Friday at 9:30 in the morning. I half expected him to dash to the airport in some grand romantic gesture to win her back. After all, I’d had his heart for only two months; she had had it for four years. Despite all his reassurances, my insecurities ate at me, doubt wringing my nerves so tightly, I swore I could feel them stretching, ripping apart.

  The next morning I watched the clock from five until 9:22 when Vince walked through the front entrance, holding a bouquet of various chrysanthemums, my favorite flowers. “What are you doing here?” I asked, utterly shocked by his appearance. “Why aren’t you saying goodbye at the airport?”

  “Because I said my goodbyes a long time ago,” he said. We headed to the office for privacy. “She’s moved on. I’ve moved on, too, Maci, even though I know you’ve had your doubts about that. Despite the difference in length between the relationships, I was never as close to her as I am with you. I came here to prove that to you. I also came here to tell you that I love you and that I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “Ready to prove my commitment to you,” he answered, laying the flowers on the desk. My heart jumped. Is he about to ask me to marry him? “I’m ready to do number twelve on the list.”

  Number twelve? I had gazed at the list so many times I had it memorized. “Are you sure? I thought—”

  “That I’d never want to do it,” he interrupted. “You were right. Just like I know you never want to have a threesome. But I want to do this, Maci, for you. For us. Besides, I’ve been reading about it online, and I read the ‘Up Your Bum’ chapter in The Guide. There’s a reason why people do it: it’s supposed to feel great.”

  “But not if you’re not into it,” I countered.

  “I am into it,” he said. “I researched it. I watched Bend Over Boyfriend and the thought turned me on after a while. Thinking about your breasts slapping my back … I want to do it, Maci. That is, if you still want to.”

  Ever since we wrote out the list, I had thought about number twelve. Pegging: the reversal where the female does the man like a man, the thrusting, the penetration, all of it. It was one of the most arousing things on the list. “I do, but I don’t want to do it just to prove something. I want to do it for the same reasons we did all the other fantasies.”

  “To build a connection.” He took me in his arms. “To grow together, to explore each other, to strengthen our bond and let go of the past. Those are all the same reasons I’m talking about. I’m just saying that I want to show you my commitment to you by being open about the idea.” He grabbed my hands and stepped back a little. “I want to do this, Maci.”

  So do I. “I have to think about it.” Was I overanalyzing his sentiment? Maybe. But I planned on analyzing it, then analyzing it again, just to make sure it didn’t end up in the mistake column later on.

  Vince left soon after that. I contemplated his words and the fantasy. I hadn’t done much research on it, so I figured I’d start there after work. Reading through the Wikipedia page on pegging turned me on. The control, the dominance: it was all so exciting. At the time, it seemed so out there, so dark and dirty and taboo. Women played the submissive in all the books I’d read, and the desire for the dominant point of view felt somewhat wrong, in that I should be more inclined for the submissive role. The thought of experiencing sex as the penetrator was overwhelmingly erotic. Not to say that I wanted to take over the role—I just wanted to try it once.

  When I got home, I cracked open The Guide to the “Up the Bum” chapter. I read it twice before I decided to pay for the instructional video, Bend Over Boyfriend. Lubrication and communication seemed key. The whole thing was a turn-on, but it was a huge commitment for a man who never desired anal play before, and that was the point Vince had tried to make at the office. But just showing up this morning showed his commitment to our relationship didn’t it?

  I sought out the advice of the one person I knew who had ever used a strap-on before. “Why do you want to know about strap-ons?” Danielle asked, intrigued.

  “I’ve just never thought much about it,” I lied, “and I wanted to know how it feels.”

  “Well, we’ve played around with a few different ones. The vibrating harness is my favorite,” she said. “Ashley’s is a double.”

  “Double?”

  “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” she said.

  “Now who’s the uncomfortable one?” I laughed. “See, you don’t have to be a prude.”

  She grinned at me. “A double is two dildos: one for the wearer, one for the receiver. There, are you happy?”

  “Quite.” I returned her grin. “Thanks.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you wanted to know?”

  I nodded on my way back to my room. There were still so many questions to ask and ramifications to consider, and I figured talking them through with Vince was the best option for us both.

  “Hey,” he said, opening his door around seven that night. “After this morning, I didn’t expect to see you again today.”

  “Well, from everything I’ve read, there needs to be an open line of communication on the subject, and so I thought we’d research and explore it together.”

  We hugged and he kissed me hello. “I was going to say that this morning, but you looked like you needed time to think it out on your own.”

  “I did,” I agreed. I led him into his office and woke his main computer, running a search for “pegging,” scrolling down the list. “The main thing I’m worried about is how you’ll feel afterward, you know?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, I think most people wouldn’t classify it as a ‘straight’ thing to do,” I voiced my concern. “And since you’ve never been curious about that stuff before, I don’t know … I just don’t want to lose you because of this.”

  He crossed his arms by the door. “Lose me? Why would you lose me?”

  “I don’t know … what if you feel violated afterwards, or insecure, or emasculated?” I paused, looking at the links. “Come here and read this.”

  He strode up beside me and started reading the article in Men’s Confidence Magazine. When he finished, he squared up my shoulders so that we faced each other. “Maci, I’m right there with the author. I’m perfectly secure with my sexuality and masculinity, and I don’t think you fucking me with a dildo will rip us apart. In fact, I think it will bring us together. I’m in this to share your fantasy.”

  I leaned up on my toes and kissed him. “I just needed to be sure.”

  “So are you ready to shop for some toys?”

  Excited, I nodded with enthusiasm. “Danielle said she enjoys the harnesses that vibrate.”

  “You told Danielle about this?” he asked, his tone a bit tart.

  “No, I just asked her about strap-ons, about what she likes—that’s all. I didn’t tell her about us, about pegging, though I’m sure she wouldn’t say anything to anyone besides Ashley.”

  “For now, let’s just keep it between us,” he said, slightly warmer. “I guess that’s good to know since you come more from touching your clit.” He took over the keyboard, better at searching than I was. We eventually found a strap-on vibrating harness with a pouch for a bullet vibrator to stimulate the clit during the act.

  “That article said to start small with a five-inch or six-inch dildo that’s one-inch thick,” I noted. “Since the area is so sensitive.” After a half hour of searching, we ordered a five-inch dildo that was only .8-inches thick. We bought both with next-day delivery.

  “All of this talk has my heart pounding,” I admitted. I stripped off his pants, pushed him into the office chair, and blew him until I had a mouthful. We ended up in the bedroom for round two. Tingling, I drifted off minutes after Vince came, satisfied by his gi
fted tongue.

  VINCE AND I HIKED through Forest park the next morning and long into the afternoon. By the time we returned, both packages had been delivered. Before we began our night of exploration, we ate dinner downtown, then visited Spartacus, where Vince bought four bottles of Uranus water-based lube, since every article, book chapter, and instructional video made it clear to use a lot of lube. We also bought a spare bullet vibrator as a backup.

  Vince took a shower when we got back to his place, and I decided to join him for some soapy, wet fun. Afterwards, we adjusted the harness straps before we continued with any more foreplay. “You look so hot in this,” Vince said, tightening the straps around my thighs, squeezing my ass. He slapped it, and then began kissing my skin, traveling down my leg, up my other one until he reached my other cheek, where he gently bit me. He stripped off the harness, leaving me in only a sexy black corset that pushed up my breasts. “God, you’re so damn sexy,” he whispered, pushing me onto the bed.

  I slowly pulled down the boxer-briefs he’d put on after the shower. His cock sprung up and I caught it in my hand, my grip tightening around his girth. I watched the blood rush to his head before I took it in my mouth.

  He pushed me back and climbed onto the bed. I lay back, swiping all but one of the pillows off the bed, while he rotated around, his cock in my face. He lifted his hips so that I could place the pillow under him, positioning his hard-on at the perfect sucking angle.

  Unable to wait, he dove between my legs, kissing my pussy. Immediately, my nerves exploded, the sensitivity greater than usual. “I love the way you taste,” he said, licking from my pussy to my clit in broad strokes. I caressed his cock, gazing at how his head and balls responded to the movement.

  “Do I taste sweet?” I asked, glancing down at his eyes.

  “Sweet like candy,” he said, rubbing his tongue between my inner lips.