“Just never mind, okay? It's not important.” She stormed to the car. He stood under a flashing E with a disgusted expression on his face. For as hard as her problems were for her, they were as equally as foreign and confusing to him. He had never meant someone with Bi-polar disorder before, or whatever it was that plagued her. He didn't know if could deal with it.
“I'll take you home on one condition. You tell me exactly what happened. You were having the time of your life in there. What changed?”
Her jaw trembled. “My freakin' anxiety disorder, okay? I had a panic attack. That's how it happens. Everything's dandy, then hell breaks loose.” She flicked her fingers together. “It's instantaneous. I can't imagine the process of dying being much worse. If you don't want to ever see me again, I'll understand. I know I come with an unusual sort of baggage. I thought I'd changed tonight by coming here. I was having a wonderful time until my anxiety got the better of me. I guess a few hours of fun can't remedy something that's taken several years to acquire.”
Baron had no response. He felt sorry for her, but he had nothing else to say. Perhaps it was best he did take her home and leave her alone for a while. “Okay, let's go back. It's gettin' late anyways.” His voice sounded bleak.
***
Neither of the two said anything during the drive back, and when they did get back, all they said was goodnight.
But it sounded more along the lines of: good-bye.
Baron entered his house, Janna hers. They both fell asleep quickly.
Chapter 8
Moving images flickered in her unconscious mind during her slumber. The images brought horrible, gut wrenching emotions along with them. These emotions were the apotheosis of bad, strong enough to forever break a person.
Chairs—metal folding chairs were lined up in rows on a thin, cheap, recently-vacuumed carpet. None of the chairs were occupied. There were probably a hundred of them in all in the large room, which had paintings of Jesus and angels hanging from its many walls. The recessed ceiling lights were dimmed, but there were enough of them to light the interior pleasingly and well. Everything faced forward, toward the pine box casket at the front of the room. Slowly, Janna felt herself hovering, drifting toward that casket. It seemed to take years to reach it. Who was in it? Her mom? Her dad? Grandma? Grandpop? A relative? Someone was in there, all right, she just couldn't see whom. There were no flowers anywhere, no picture of the deceased hanging on a stand. It was as if the unfortunate cadaver had had no friends, no family, no anybody to bid them farewell or show them they loved them or would carry on their legacy.
Inching closer, she heard voices in the background talking. Men's voices. The word curator came to mind. “This woman would have been better off if she'd never existed. Not one person has shown up today or yesterday. No flowers, no condolences, no nothing. She's a ghost now. It's obvious she was a ghost in life, too.”
“Yeah. It's a shame that some people are so forgotten in this world, like they don't matter, like they're not important at all.”
The voices went on but faded out...
Curiosity overflowing, she sped up, floated faster toward the casket. At last, when she saw who was lying inside, everything became deathly clear. None of this was a game anymore. This was too real now. The end result of her reclusive lifestyle lay before her, right under her nose. It was Janna lying there in the casket. Nobody had come to view her body, nobody cared about her, because she had shut everybody out. She'd lived as she'd died: in vain. The reality set in, filled her with intractable understanding and apprehension.
***
A BOOM of thunder shook her awake at 4:07 A.M., but the remnants of the dream remained with her. She realized she could die any time, any day, any second, and what would she have to show for it? No more!!
Determined, Janna got out of bed. She let her feelings do what her mind had prevented her from doing all this time
She marched downstairs.
Out the front door.
Dressed in her pajamas, she crossed the street in the pouring rain, ignoring the storm, the wet, the bolts of lightning, the protests of thunder.
And pounded several times on Baron's front door.
The porch lights came on surprisingly fast. The door opened a beat later, Baron standing behind it, eyes narrowed, hair sticking up. “Everything okay, Janna? Jesus, you're soaking wet.”
“Can I come in?”
“Uh... sure. You sure every—“
She lunged inside, threw her arms around him, and pressed her dripping wet lips against his. Initially, he pulled away, caught off-guard by the kiss. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done the other night. I don't want to scare you, Baron, but I do have feelings for you. I want to make this work. This time I will succeed. I have to. If I panic ever again, I'll figure out a way to deal with it, with everything that's wrong with me. And when we make love now, I promise I'll go through with it.”
He did not object. His pajama bottoms became a little tighter in the crotch. Without a word, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs, to his room, where he set her gently on his bed.
She said only one thing before the magic happened: “I want lights, please.”
He flicked a switch. A beside lamp flickered on and lit the room, lit him. He was wearing a white t-shirt and baggy black cotton pants. To her, he looked more attractive tired and indisposed than she did alert and cleaned up—for the same reason some guys liked girls who didn't wear make-up or doll themselves up to impress men.
Baron climbed on top of her. She was trembling beneath him, her legs quivering, her groping hands grabbing his shoulders. Her bottom lip quivered as well, and it made his hard-on harder. When his lips touched hers, all the quivering went away. They looked into each other's eyes during this long, passionate kiss, and were able to see beyond just the physical. His hand grabbed her hip, then moved south, along her thigh, down to her knee, and to her calve. She grabbed his butt. He let go of her calve and grabbed the waistband part of her pajama bottoms. Pulled them down, revealing soft, pale legs and her hairy vagina. Janna yanked of her sodden shirt with such force, it ripped. They both laughed about it, but only briefly. The sexual tension in the room was too great for humor. Her pear-shaped breasts bounced in response to the top being torn. Baron grabbed her left breast with his right hand, and kissed her right breast repeatedly. Ran his tongue around her sharp, hardened nipple. She groaned in response, and groaned out louder when he gently bit it. Pausing, he sat up, yanked off all his clothes, socks too. When she saw him do so, she pushed her own socks off with her feet. A second before he descended onto her again, she spread her legs as wide as they would go. He grabbed both of them, felt every square inch of them. Then he ran his hands around her hips and to her smooth, round ass. She reached down, clutched hold of his penis, stroked it firmly, and completed the human puzzle by sticking it inside her. Warm and hard. Her internal juices secreted it. It felt so good being in there. The whole experience brought tears to her eyes. She began to cry. Baron stopped groping her and kissing her. He was going to ask what was wrong, but when he peered into her beautiful brown eyes, he knew they were tears of immense pleasure. He commenced to ride her, thrusting himself into her and out of her tight orifice, slowly and deeply. Fast and shallow. Mixing it up. First she moaned, her grunts like Viagra to his ears. Her moans grew louder, louder still, until they became virtual screams. “Ooooh! Uh! Ohhhh! Uh. Uhhhh! Oh my god, fuck me, Baron, fuck me hard.”
He watched her eyes roll, her head tremble, and felt her warm breaths brush against his face. When her eyes weren't back inside her head, they were on him. She soon realized that she loved him and didn't want tonight to end. The past nine years had come to an end, finally, utterly, perfectly. Tonight was a beautiful transition from bad to good.
Her heart pounded in her chest and ears. Sweat broke out on her skin—his too. His penis massaged all the right internal buttons. A little fluid spurted from her vagina, and s
he cried out again: “UH! UH! UH! UH! Ohhhhh, Baron! I'm almost there. Make me come, make me come!”
He was almost there, too. His adrenaline coursed through his veins, making him feel like he'd run a short marathon. He and Janna were one right now, two halves of a whole. He had never said this—he didn't even want to admit to himself yet—but he thought he was starting to fall for her. She didn't only take Rachel's place; she instilled a better assortment of emotions in him.
Faster, harder, deeper, louder. The bed squeaked noisily. A quilt fell to the floor. A drinking glass on the nightstand was inching closer toward the edge with every thrust. Baron groaned and grunted, ready to blow. Janna was ready to go, but she was waiting for him. She had never felt closer to someone as she did in this moment.
“You almost there yet, baby?” she asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, I'm there. You?”
“Whenever you are. Let's do it together, at the same time.”
“The time's now, Janna.”
The way he said her name brought more tears to her eyes, made her heart burn with passion.
“UH!UH!UH!UHHHHHH!” She cried. “I'm coming, I'm coming!”
“Oh Janna! Ahhhhhh!”
His penis throbbed as his semen shot up into her, and her vagina squeezed as she let go herself. They both had one dual orgasm together. It was the best either of them had ever had—would ever have, unless they did this again. They were sure they would. Tonight had been the concrete that cemented them together.
They instantly fell asleep right afterward, Baron still partway on top of her, his arm draped over her. Janna had no dreams, but she felt complete. She felt loved. She slept with a smile on her face and a seed inside her belly.
***
She awoke the next day, confused but fulfilled. This was not her room, and none of these things were her possessions.
I'm at Barons...
But where's he?
Or maybe this is the remainder of the dream I had. A continuance of erotica.
“Hello?”
“Hello!” Baron said, entering the room with a tray of breakfast in his hands. It smelled glorious: hash browns, eggs, toast. He set it on the bed beside her.
“For me?” Her face lit up.
“Indeed.”
“So I guess that wasn't a dream? Us... together?”
“I thought the same thing when I woke up. Here, let me let some daylight in. It's a beautiful day outside. Warm, sunny.” He opened the blinds, and sunshine illuminated the room.
“How'd you sleep?” he asked Janna.
“Never better.” She took a bite of toast. “But what does it mean? Us...?”
“I like you, Janna. That's what it means. I don't want to call it love yet, because I don't want to jinx anything. I want to get to know you.”
Gulp! “You like me? Why?”
“Because that's just the way it happens sometimes. The way I see you smile, laugh, and cry. It just mysteriously draws me to you like a magnet.”
“But why me? With all the problems I have—“
He held up a hand. “My ex had problems. All my exes had problems. I have problems. Everybody has problems. It's what makes us human and faulty. I've had a lot of girlfriends, Janna. Sure, they might be more outgoing than you are, more confident, more personable. But it doesn't make them better. To me, you're better than them. They seem to be made from a certain mold. Not you. You're the girl next door. You are just... yourself. You're not stuck up or fake. You're a real woman. I want to start something with you... if you're still willing?”
“Absolutely!” She wrapped her arms around him, and they kissed. “See? Maybe it's good you and your ex broke up. Otherwise, we would have never met.”
“And I would have probably lived miserably ever after. Y'know, you can get to know a person all you want. You can talk to them for years and think you know them. Or you can see someone one day and somehow just know them.”
“That's the way it was with me and Ben for the longest time. Fate's a funny thing. You never know what it holds in store from one day to the next. This world is huge. You could have moved anywhere, but in the end, you came here.”
“To discover a beautiful woman named Janna. I don't even know your last name.”
“It's Dellwood.”
“Mine's Strettan. Baron Strettan, at your service. The food any good?”
“It's okay. Nothing special,” she joked.
He laughed. “At least you're honest.” He winked. “You do know I can't guarantee anything... we could really have something here, but I don't want you to think this'll last for sure.”
She shook her head. “Doesn't matter. Let's just take this one day at a time and see how it goes. Besides, nothing lasts. I realized that last night. What counts is what you do with the time given to you, to me, to us.”
“Sounds good.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Enjoy your breakfast. I'm gonna take a quick shower.”
He walked to the door.
“Baron?”
He stopped and turned, his eyebrows raised. “Hmm?”
“Thanks. For everything.”
“No, Janna, thank you.” He walked out of the room.
Janna sat there and continued to eat her breakfast, the emptiness in her psyche ultimately gone. For nine years it had been there, gnawing at her, devouring her, wasting her away. Overnight, she'd conquered that emptiness, made love with the perfect guy, and established the beginnings of a real romance. From now on she was going to do everything that had always held her back. Nothing would stand in her way again. The world was her oyster, an immense realm of possibilities, too many to count. She'd just needed the help of a gentleman to see it. That gentleman was and always would be Baron Strettan.
Love Thy Neighbor Page 7