To Kiss You Again

by Brandie Buckwine

  He bites his lip and slowly stretches me to capacity. The walls of my pussy spasm around him, and I can barely breathe. Before he even begins, I am coming.

  “Easy, baby girl.” He kisses my forehead, but I can’t stop, so he gives me a few thrusts to push me over the edge. “You’re gonna kill me,” he chuckles as I let the orgasm wash through my body. None of my past romps have ever come close to this kind of passion or excitement. Who climaxes from penetration alone? Normally, I’m lucky to climax at all, and it scares me to know I now can’t hold back.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, ashamed of my wantonness.

  His lips pull at my earlobes. “Don’t ever be sorry about coming. Do you know what it does to me, to see you lose control with me?”

  I squeak when he plunges deeper, reaching what feels like the end of me. His slow movements make me want to roll him over and take the lead, but his careful angling holds me back. While the pace might be slow, the way he circles his hips as he drives into me hits the same delectable spot his fingers found before, and it claims all my focus. Every time he thrusts against it, a thrill runs through me, and it grows more sensitive with each contact.

  Needing more, I angle my hips. It feels like I’m climbing him, but the sensation is better. I fear I’ve climbed too high when he pulls out and untangles himself from my legs.

  “Here,” he rises to his knees and pulls at my hands. I crawl to my knees and face him. With one hand, he grasps my hip and pushes, until we are both turning and he is behind me. Chills run through me when his hand brushes across my breast and he enters me from behind.

  Right away, I am conscious of the special spot – he hits it dead on with every stroke. His free hand reaches between my legs and rubs my clit though its hood. My moan encourages him and he reaches lower, sliding his fingertip up my slit to the bare nub. Very gently, he circles and caresses. I am in ecstasy. He knows my body so well, even though this is our first time. Perhaps he’s invaded my daydreams and made love to me in that most secret place countless times.

  When he pushes the hair away from my neck and latches on with his lips, just below my ear, the whole situation strikes me as so out of the ordinary, far beyond anything I’ve ever imagined – I reach back and encircle his head, and I make the decision to let go. Who cares what tomorrow brings? If I die tomorrow, I will die happy, knowing this experience is the most intense and most thrilling thing to ever happen to me.

  The spot has morphed to consume my entire body. Every breath against my skin, every soft pinch of my nipple, every delicious pass over my clitoris strikes it with unerring accuracy, and I’m floating outside my skin.

  “Oh, baby girl, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to make love to you,” Matt whispers in my ear, drawing out each sensuous, long stroke as though he is rowing crew.

  The eruption begins in my core, and my body tenses against it. Matt pulls me closer and thrusts harder, pressing his finger to my clit, barely moving over it. Just as I and the world around me explode in ecstasy, Matt comes undone. He pounds against me frantically. He is shouting unintelligibly.

  “Fuck! Girl – you – fuck – yes – Jenny!”

  His cock throbs within my clenching channel. Our passion finally detonated around each other, I collapse to the bed, taking Matt with me. Drenched in sweat with Matt’s hot breath bursting into the small space between our heads, I long for the coolness of the sea, but I’m too exhausted to consider hiking down there.

  I drift into a dream of being tied down on the beach. The scorching sun burns my skin, but I am unable to move. When I open my mouth to speak, my lips crack and bleed. Small children chase around me, beating pots with metal utensils. My head throbs with their incessant noise. Soon, they are screaming and running faster. One has angered the others, and they chase her in fury.

  In a fog, I jump out of bed, grab my robe, and follow the metallic crashing sounds to the kitchen. Raised voices echo through the house, and I stumble down the stairs to find pans rolling on the floor, escaped from their rafter hooks. Matt is backed against the wall, his hands raised defensively, while a red-faced Carla screams in his face.

  “I’m so fucking sick of all of you. You’re all pigs. Disgusting, fucking pigs!”

  I think she is drunk, but I don’t know what has set her off on this rampage. I assume something happened with Tasos, though why she’s taking it out on Matt, I don’t know. I rush to her and take her by the shoulders, pulling her away from Matt.

  “Carla, what the hell? What’s going on?”

  Up close, I see tears streaking her face, her mascara smeared around her eyes. The smell of alcohol is present, but not overwhelming.

  “Men suck,” she exclaims. Her bottom lip protrudes like a toddler and she melts into my arms, sobbing.

  “Did something happen with Tasos?”

  “What do you think?” she snaps. I smooth her hair – the heat of her fury nearly burns my hand. “He’s just like all the rest. They say one thing, but it’s always lies.”

  “What did he do?” I know what he’s said.

  The front of my robe is sopped, and Carla gives a disgusting snort, her nose plugged with mucus. “He’s fucking some tourist bimbo. He said he wanted to go to bed early tonight, but I went to his house and caught him.”

  Matt stands by, and I know he’s uncomfortable. He glances between us and the door. “Do you want me to beat him up?” He grins and I shake my head. Carla stares at him blankly.

  “I’m sorry sweetie. Maybe I should have warned you.”

  “Warn me?” She pushes away. “Warn yourself. He’s just as bad.” She looks at Matt, and his eyebrows rise.

  “How so?” I ask.

  “Tell her!” Carla says.

  He looks confused, but flushes.

  “Tell me what?”

  When he doesn’t speak, Carla says, “Sure, he’s here, all lovey-dovey, but this morning he told Ginny you were a freak.”

  Waves of shock streak through me and I am speechless. A freak?

  “I did not call her a freak.” He looks at me. “I did not call you a freak.”

  “What did you call me?” I ask, just as Carla says, “That’s what Ginny said!”

  His feet shuffle and he runs his hand through his hair in exasperation. “I probably said it freaked me out the way you used to follow me, and that you didn’t recognize me on the boat, but that’s all on me. It was stupid.”

  A hollow feeling consumes me, and I struggle to maintain my focus on the here and now. Was it true? Was I his little stalker?

  “You said she’s is screwed up in the head. That it freaks you out, the way she used to follow you. Ginny told me.”

  His expression tightens and he implores Carla with his eyes. The room begins to spin.

  “I did say that, but not because it’s what I really think.”

  I sputter – “Wha, wha –”

  “It was fear talking. It was an excuse to run away from my feelings.” He exhales sharply. “I love that you followed me, and why would you recognize me on the boat? I didn’t recognize you, not consciously at least. I think part of me recognized the connection. It was so familiar, and it drew me to you.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Jenny. He’s just like all the rest. Turn your back and he’ll fuck you over, too.”

  His eyes are filled with panic when he looks at me, but I am lost.

  “I used to follow you?”

  Part X

  Carla and I stared at her.

  “All the time.” I looked at her doubtfully. “Surely you remember stalking me.” The allegation made me wince, but Jenny shook her head.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Oh, come on. Even I remember, and I was only six,” Carla said.

  “How do you not remember?” I asked, cautiously approaching her.

  “There are a lot of things I don’t remember from back then.” Her gaze dropped to the ground. “But I remember you,” she announced, looking like the recollection was a major victory
.

  A feeling of sadness washed through me. Maybe I built up this past bond into something greater than it actually was. If she could so easily forget her feelings for me, even what I looked like, how much of her past obsession was real, and how much had I fabricated? I was crushed.

  Taking a deep breath, Carla wrapped her arm around Jenny. “She was in a motorcycle accident when she was,” she paused and looked at Jenny, “fifteen?”

  Jenny nodded.

  “She was in a coma for a few days, and her memory of the time before the accident was spotty. We thought it all came back, but apparently, there are still things missing.”

  “I thought so too,” Jenny said despondently.

  A different girl slipped into Carla’s body. She wrapped Jenny in her arms and pulled her close. “I’m so sorry, Jenny. I should have known.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie. Not your fault.” Jenny rubbed her hands up and down Carla’s back, and tears filled her eyes.

  My feet froze to the ground. I wanted to go to Jenny, comfort her, but I was too stunned. The story explained so much. Did Jenny still suffer from her injuries? Would she remember me five years from now?

  “Tell me about the accident.” Regaining control of my senses, I took her hands in mine and pulled her to a chair. I turned to Carla. “Could you give us a minute?” She nodded and crept out of the room

  “I don’t really remember – just bits and pieces leading up to it, and what people have told me.” I sat across from her and caressed her palms. “I was riding with my best friend. He had a big motorcycle – 2500cc I think – and I rode with him all the time. One day, we were cruising outside of town, and I don’t know if he was turning around or just went off the road, but we went over a steep embankment. It was a terraced hillside, and they found us at the bottom.”

  She began to sob and I pulled her into my arms. “He was killed, and they took me by air-ambulance to Athens.”

  “I’m so sorry, baby girl,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “That’s terrible.”

  “Petros’ family blamed me – said I was a bad influence, had him traipsing all over the place, following me like a love-sick puppy, but we were just friends.”

  “Petros?” The blood drained from my face. “Petros Kallis?”

  “Yes. You were friends, right?”

  I nodded. We were friends, but I didn’t stay in touch with any of my childhood friends from the island, and his death was news to me.

  “I’m sorry, Matt. I thought you knew.”

  I nodded again and took a deep breath. “He did like big motorcycles. But I think he was gay, so I doubt he had a thing for you.”

  “He was, but his family didn’t know. Did he tell you?”

  I shook my head. It wasn’t something we talked about.

  “And what happened after Athens?”

  “We moved back to the States so I could work with a specialist. Certain things I remember, but I don’t remember following you, or, apparently, even what you looked like. Bits and pieces came back tonight, when we were making love.” She looked up at me. “Did I really follow you that much?”

  “Everywhere.Seemed like every time I’d walk out my door, you’d be hiding down the block, waiting for me.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God. How embarrassing.”

  “You were just a kid. Don’t worry about it.” A disturbing thought crossed my mind. “You don’t remember what I looked like, or following me around, but you remember the kiss? And Anna? How?”

  “You and Anna were a hot topic of conversation for a long time, and the kiss,” her eyes took on a faraway look, and she paused. “The kiss haunted me for years. I remember the longing, the closeness I felt to you, the love,” her stare pinned me. “That kiss burned into my soul. I’ll never forget it.”

  A rush of emotion from long ago filled me. “Neither will I.”

  Jenny chuckled. “It’s no wonder you thought I was a freak and screwed in the head.”

  The confession I’d been wrestling with bit at my mind. I squeezed my eyes tight. “You weren’t the only freak.

  “What do you mean?” She cocked her head to the side.

  “I spent hours watching you through your bedroom window. There was a dovecote, sort of diagonally across from your house. I discovered it by accident one day. After that, I watched you all the time.”

  Her eyebrows rose in shock. “Seriously? At the house in town?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re blushing,” she said, then, her brow creased. “Did you see me –?”

  “No. I would never,” I shook my head adamantly. “Look, it’s not something I’m proud of, and even though I justified it to myself at the time, I know it was wrong.”

  “Justified it how?”

  I grinned. “If I was watching you, you weren’t following me.”

  She stood and walked to the open door, hugging herself against the night breeze. Her body drooped. I rushed to her side and took her in my arms.

  “I’m sorry, baby girl. You have to forgive me. It wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “It’s not that,” she said, leaning into my chest.

  “Then what?”

  “Is that why you didn’t come today? Because you think I’m not right in the head?”

  The frightened look she gave me made me want to kiss it away. I tried. I kissed each of her brows and the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t come today because I’m a little crazy when it comes to you. I let fear get the best of me.”

  When she nodded and pressed her face against me, I pulled her close. “I’m not afraid anymore. The crazy you’ll just have to live with.”

  “You’ve met my sister?” She looked up at me. “I can handle a little crazy.”

  I took her hand and pulled her back through the house, to her bedroom. A tremor spread through her body when I untied her robe and slid it to the ground. Her lips opened to me, and I kissed her hard. Then, I took possession and made crazy love to her. My only regret was poor Carla, who undoubtedly heard our cries of passion well into the dawn.

  Before we finally fell into an exhausted slumber in each other’s arms, Jenny asked me: “When do you have to go back?”

  The same question plagued me all day, but I had come to a decision. “I don’t have to go back. I can work from here on my laptop, but I plan to start my own company.” I kissed her shoulder. “I’m here as long as you’ll have me.”

  She was quiet a moment, but followed with, “Are you still a peeping tom? Have you watched anyone since then?”

  I swallowed hard. “Only you.”

  She pursed her lips, and her brow creased.

  “It’s only ever been you, baby girl.”

  Part XI

  When I wake, the sun is already over the eastern mountain and I am alone. The spot Matt occupied is still warm and again, I hear raised voices in the kitchen. If the two of them can’t get along, someone will have to go, and it won’t be Matt.

  I grab a dress from my bureau and pull it over my head as I head down the stairs. The sound of Carla’s whining grates on my nerves. While last night with Matt was incredible, it was pretty light for sleep, and I don’t want to put up with her shit.

  “It’s only a matter of time before you do something to ruin things with Jenny. Men are stupid pigs.”

  On opposite sides of the room, they both hold steaming cups. Matt sees me and raises his. “You have real coffee.” His grin tells me he has things handled with my sister, so I fix myself a cup and observe.

  “Why can’t men be faithful and keep their dicks in their pants?”

  Matt turns to her. “Would you just stop? I’m sorry you got screwed over. Welcome to adulthood. It happens, but not every relationship is like that.”

  “Sure. Act like you’re better than that. Just like a man,” Carla spits.

  “Maybe if you’d knock that chip off your shoulder, you wouldn’t set yourself up to get screwed,” he says.

  I watc
h their interaction like a disinterested bystander.

  “I don’t have a chip on my shoulder. I just wish men would act like human beings and not be so fucking selfish all the time.” Her voice is elevated and she stomps her foot like a child.

  “Of course you have a chip. For the first time in your life, you have no schedule and no plans. Your future is wide open, and it scares the hell out of you. People are pressuring you to figure out what you want to do with your life, and you have no clue.”

  His observation is so accurate, I’m blown away. Even Carla’s exaggerated resentment deflates.

  “That’s not true,” she whispers.

  “Sure it is. You hate that Jenny knew what she wanted from the start, and went for it. She’s living her dream, and you haven’t found yours.” His insight astonishes me.

  Pulling a chair from the table, Carla falls into it. “It’s not fair. Everyone has some kind of direction, and I just feel so lost.”

  Matt crosses the room and pulls out a chair next to her. She is surprised when he takes her hand. “Life’s not fair, but you’re not alone. Lots of people are lost all the time. You don’t have to decide what you want to do with your life right now. Hell, you don’t have to decide for a long time, if ever. Going to school and studying a subject doesn’t mean you commit to a career. It just means you’re learning something. You might use it down the road, and you might not. You might find something you like and go for it. Hell, you can just keep changing majors until something clicks, if that’s what you want.”

  “What if I don’t want to go to school?”

  I find my voice. “That’s the beauty of being an adult. You don’t have to do anything. If you don’t want to go to school, fine. But you will have to find a way to support yourself.”

  “And you might decide, after a while, that you do want to go to college,” Matt adds. “If you don’t go right now, it doesn’t mean you’ll never have another chance. Yeah?”

  Though tears dance in her eyes, she smiles. It occurs to me that I haven’t seen her smile for a long time, and it’s good to see the relief in her eyes. I’m annoyed at not recognizing the source of her anger.