by E. Ayers
“Not really. This one is fun to wear, because most people don’t catch the meaning. It’s funny to watch someone’s face when they do catch it. Mostly it’s the folks educated in ancient history or art.”
Shawn had wandered down to the edge of the lake and played along its pebbled shore. Cassie sat next to Trent and watched Shawn exploring. She reached into her purse, pulled out her camera, and snapped several pictures. She leaned her head against Trent's arm and showed him all the pictures she had taken that day. A serene peace filled him as he inhaled her scent.
“There is something very different about you. I’ve been around plenty of men and none have evoked such a passion in me, yet sitting here with you feels so comfortable.”
“I know.” He dropped a quick clandestine kiss on her lips. “I’m also not ready to tell Shawn.”
“He’ll realize it eventually.” She smiled at Trent and then called Shawn.
~~9~~
“Shawn, where’s our tattoos?” Cassie asked.
Shawn scurried to his dad’s car, found the two clear plastic containers, and brought them to the picnic table. “I can’t get it open.”
She watched as he attempted to twist the clear plastic halves apart. “They don’t unscrew. You need to stomp on it, but not too hard. You don’t want it to go into a million pieces. Or give it to your dad, and let him break it with his fist”
“Let him stomp on it. Isn’t that half the fun?”
Shawn’s first try sent it rolling across the ground for several feet. The second time it broke into quite a few pieces. Cassie helped him pick up all the little plastic shards and place them in the trashcan. Then she handed him hers and this time he popped it into only a few pieces that were easily retrieved.
Using a napkin and a fresh bottle of water, she wet the tattoo and put it to one side. “Arr, Captain, where do you want it? Shall we put it on your bicep so you can show the world what a tough man you are? Or do we put it on your forearm as a warning to other pirates that dead men don’t talk?”
“Right here.” He clasped his bicep.
She wet another napkin, and rubbed his arm furiously with hopes of removing any sunscreen, while turning the wet napkin into a disintegrated mess. Then she carefully applied the tattoo.
“Where should I put mine?”
Shawn instantly pointed to her chest. Trent covered his mouth with his hand, but the merriment danced in his eyes.
Decorously, she pulled at her shirt’s neckline. “Here? What makes you think it should go there? Can’t I put it on my arm too?”
“Because that’s where girls wear them.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Because Daddy’s magazine--”
“Shawn, have you been snooping in my room?”
The little boys eyes grew wide. “Un-ah.”
“There’s no point in lying about it.”
She dissolved into giggles as she watched Trent’s face turn bright red, even though his eyes had narrowed, and he was trying to be stern.
“I think you’ve both been caught. Shawn, I’d prefer to put it on my arm. That way we match. Besides, I’m going to need some help.”
Shawn soaked her tattoo, then put water on a napkin and did to her what she had done to him. Soon she was sporting a yellow-orange lily on her arm. It wasn’t as if she, too, had a skeleton with a sword, but she knew in Shawn’s mind, they now shared something special.
***
Still reeling from his son’s revelation, he wasn’t sure if anyone still wanted to continue fishing. “Shall we pack up?”
She looked up at him with her blue-blue eyes and cocked her head slightly. “I thought the plans were to go back to fishing after our meal. It’s still early.”
“I figured you didn’t want to spend the rest of the day with a degenerate.”
She giggled. “Why because you have a few magazines?”
“One. I bought it a long time ago.”
“You need to find a better place to hide it.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “We’re mature, single adults, and we’re entitled to our private moments.”
He looked at his son, who had wandered off a short ways before looking at Cassie. “I’ve never asked a woman this, but do you keep a stack of magazines?”
“No, I have a toy.”
He looked at her askance. "A toy?"
“A dildo. But since that mutant from Death Star Three Sixteen probed me, I’m certain I’ll never need it.”
“Shh.” Trent stood up and they walked back to the pier, calling Shawn to join them.
Shawn had baited his own hook and was attempting to cast his line. The hooked worm plunked into the water next to the pier and, as Shawn attempted to pull the line up, his rod bent downward.
“You’ve got it caught on something,” Trent said, as he took the rod. Trent jerked the line and suddenly it began to run out.
“That’s a little fast for a turtle, and litter doesn’t swim,” Cassie said, as she broke into a round of giggles.
It was obvious that it was small, and Trent allowed his son to grab it with the net.
“Don’t know what it is, but it’s too little to keep.”
“Don’t throw that back in. It’s a bluegill perch. Tasty, and actually that one looks like it’s at least a pound,” the Vietnam vet said. “It’s a lot of work for a little fish, but it’s worth it. Delicious little things.”
“Thanks for the info. We’ll put it in the cooler with the others.”
They caught more fish before their picnic than they did afterwards, but they still had fun. When Trent announced it was time to leave, Shawn protested and started to cry.
“Hey, there’s no point in crying.” Cassie wrapped her arm around the child. “We’re all getting tired, and you need a bath before you go to bed. We still have almost a half a container of worms. Maybe we can come back tomorrow morning and do a little more fishing.”
“Tomorrow morning we go to Mass,” Trent said flatly.
“Could we come after Mass?” Cassie asked.
“Yes.”
It took a few minutes to gather everything up and get it to the car. Shawn fell asleep on the ride home and Trent took advantage of his son’s slumber by kissing Cassie before he let her out of his car.
“Will you be back tonight?” she asked.
He nodded. “I’ll call you when he’s asleep. My probe is in need of an earthling.”
***
Cassie took a shower and began to search her drawers and closet for something to wear, wishing she had something pretty and sexy. Drawstring shorts and tee shirts didn’t seem appropriate for the occasion. Then she remembered the nightgown her brother had sent her last year for her birthday, and pulled it from the box in her closet.
It didn't look like something Steffen would give her. He tended to send her things like unusual paperweights. This appeared to be something Steffen's wife would have picked out. The tags were still on it. She dropped it over her head and stared at her reflection.
Three satin spaghetti straps on each side fanned over her chest, gathered at the shoulder, and then fanned over her back. The tiny straps were attached to a wide band of satin and the rest of the gown was lightweight cotton. On someone taller, it would have fallen to a more provocative length, but on her, it fell almost to her knees. Do I wear underpants? After checking her underwear drawer, she decided to forego the undies, as what she had was neither stylish nor sexy.
Cutting the price tags from it, she stood in front of her mirror. She felt like an idiot. White was not her best color. The nightgown was beautiful and expensive, but virginal. Certainly not the image she wanted to project. She scrunched up her face, yanked the gown off, and tossed it into her closet. Rummaging through her bureau drawers one more time, she decided on a pair of pastel plaid night shorts with a matching tank top. It wasn’t sexy, but at least she was comfortable.
Quickly, she brushed her hair and pulled it into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. Su
rveying her room, she knew she had more than a few messes that needed tidying. At work, she was exceptionally organized, but at home she was the exact opposite. Scurrying, she managed to get the place in better order and even used the duster.
When the phone rang, she grabbed it. Warmth flooded her as Trent’s deep sultry voice told her he’d be there in a few minutes. She rang the doorman and told him she was expecting company.
***
Trent hesitated for a moment before touching the buzzer on her door. He knew the reason he was standing there was the promise of a night of sex, and a wave of guilt washed over him, only to be replaced with a testosterone-fueled need.
“Hi, come in.” She smiled coyly at him, her cheeks turning pink.
“Hi.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before reaching out to her shoulders. He pulled her close and slanted his mouth over hers, as the door shut behind him. Touching his tongue to her lips stirred a firestorm brewing deep in his loins.
The sweet tangy taste of lemon sent his tongue deeper, as his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight to his body. Her hips swayed against his erection. She leaned away from him for a second, and the distinct sound of the deadbolt registered in his brain. His tongue and lips were now on her ear, nibbling, and licking, as her clean fresh scent filled his lungs and circulated his wanton lust through his body.
Her fingers were on his shirt, pulling it from the confines of his jeans. He slipped a hand under the waistband of her pants, gliding it over the two perfect silky mounds as his lips and teeth nipped at her neck. His finger slipped between the crack, causing her hands to press against his chest.
“Not here,” she whispered hoarsely. She pulled him into her bedroom by holding onto the waistband of his jeans.
Her smile spoke volumes as he lifted his tee shirt over his head and tossed it onto a chair. Her fingers were busy with his fly, as he put a toe of one foot to the heel of the other sneaker and attempted to remove them.
His jeans were at his ankles when she pushed him onto her bed. She was aggressive and it excited him. It didn’t take much for him to get naked, but she was still wearing her shirt and pants when she climbed over him.
His heart pounded in rhythm with his erect penis. Every muscle and nerve in his body seems acutely aware of what was happening, and he loved the feeling. Her knees gripped his waist as she slowly removed her shirt, revealing tiny pointed breasts with matching pale pink nipples.
She leaned down as if to offer him one, only to pull back, grin wickedly at him, and then laugh.
“Tonight, you are mine.” Her tongue skimmed her lips. “I will control the mutant from Death Star Three Sixteen, and he will do as I command.”
“Really?” He raised his hands over his head and grabbed at her headboard.
“Oh, I like you all stretched out.” Her fingertips ran through the soft hair that covered part of his chest. She stood on the bed and slowly removed her pants.
He had not noticed that first night that she was devoid of pubic hair, except for a small stripe. Excitement of seeing her exposed in such a way increased his need. He reached for her.
“Put your hands back on that headboard. You will not remove them unless I grant you permission to do so. Tonight you will only be allowed to touch with your tongue.”
He filled his lungs with air and held it, as if he’d forgotten how to exhale. She lowered her body back to the bed. Her lean catlike prowess ran fire through his veins.
“Do mutants know anything about the Sanskrit Kamasutra?”
“I know Kamasutra is a book about sexual positions.”
“You need to stop reading those porn articles and start reading history. Vatsyayana is the sage who wrote Kamasutra. It’s a guide to living life. Kama was written for the women, so that they may provide the aesthetic and erotic pleasure to a man, being the man was busy with the Dharma and Artha in daily life. Right now, you need a little Kama in your life, because you’ve had way too much Artha. Tomorrow morning, you can consider your Dharma and worry about your Moksha.”
“I have no clue what you are talking about.”
She giggled. “Just keep your hands on the headboard and I’ll teach you all about the Kama.”
She swung one leg over his shoulder and kept her feminine parts inches from his face, as her tongue explored his hardened length. He leaned up and barely touched his tongue to her. She responded by raising her hips further away, as she enveloped him with her mouth. He flopped back onto the pillow as a groan escaped. Her skillful ministrations were more than he could handle, and the familiar clenching sensation caused him to remove his hands long enough to remove her from his erection.
Her hand tightly clasped his manhood. When he was done, she turned to him. “Now I will have to punish you for taking your hands off the headboard.”
He narrowed his eyes as he watched the crinkles by her eyes deepen with her smile. “What is my punishment, and how will you know if I like it?”
~~10~~
Cassie grinned at Trent and his gorgeous body that lay before her. “Your probe has a quick trigger. I need to retrain it.”
“That comes from years of non-use.”
“What about your magazines?” She raised her eyebrows.
“That’s different from the real thing.”
Milky white seed ran down her tummy. “You are clean, right?”
“Very, it’s my blood they will use for Shawn’s surgery. We share the same blood type.”
She scooped up the drip and tasted it. Torturing him had an even greater effect on her. She leaned over and licked him clean before capturing what was oozing from the tip. “Next time you’ll keep your hands where they belong.”
“Cas, please, there’s something you should know. I’ve only had one woman in my life. Colleen and I had been together since we were fourteen. I know what oral sex is, but I’ve never done it. Colleen thought it was dirty and wouldn’t touch me or allow me near her. I’ve gone on a few dates since she died, but I’ve never touched a date, until now.”
“You’re serious.” She sat back on her knees for a moment before stretching over his body and kissing his lips. “I’m not promiscuous. Aside from, and probably because of the fiasco that ended in divorce, I’ve stayed rather celibate, and when I wasn’t, I was darn careful.”
She kissed him again and gazed into his beautiful gray-blue eyes. She lightly touched his eyelashes with a fingertip. They were twice as long as hers and appeared to be dusted in gold.
She smiled. “That very first day I realized I was more than just attracted to you, I berated myself for lusting after a married man with a child. I only knew what I was feeling went beyond the physical yearning. I want you more than I thought was possible to want a man.”
“Then let me have you. Allow me to make love to you.”
She responded with a kiss and he wrapped his arms around her.
***
It had been almost two hours since Cassie had first lain with Trent. Every part of her body ached from the physical workout, and his breathing was as erratic as hers. Her voice was raspy from exertion. “That was incredible.”
He rolled over and stared at her. “In my wildest dreams, I never--”
She put her fingers over his mouth. “I know.” She forced herself from the bed and began to pick up the mess they had created with used condoms and their wrappers. She looked at his now flaccid penis and her stomach fell. “Please tell me that one of these condoms in my hand was the one you just took off.”
His hand flew to his satiated manhood and he shook his head. “I put it on, but I never took it off.”
“Then it’s got to be here in my hand.”
He sat up, opened her hand, and counted. “We’re missing one.”
Panic seized her. “This is not funny.”
“I’m clean, very clean.”
“Well, so am I, but I don’t want to find out I’m pregnant.”
“You’re on the pill or patch or whatever women are using t
hese days, right?”
“No!”
“You’re not using anything?” He stood and began to sort through the crumpled sheets.
“There’s been no reason for me to use anything. I don’t run around screwing every guy I meet. You had no right to enter me without a condom.”
“I swear to God, I used one!”
Every wonderful loving thought exited her mind as if they had never been there. She turned abruptly and went to her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She dropped the wad in the small trashcan and washed her hands. Bending at the waist, she rested her head on the cool stone counter of her sink. She needed to clear her head and think sensibly.
“Cas, open the door. I promise, I used a condom. Don’t you remember my putting it on?”
“Go away.”
“Cas, please.”
“Go away. I’m not up to coping with this problem.” Warmth spilled between her legs and began to run. She grabbed a tissue and began to wipe. “Dammit, Trent, I’m dripping in your cum. You never used one!”
***
He turned away from the door and sat on the edge of the bed, checking the sheets one last time. How can anything that wonderful, end so badly? Pulling on his clothes, he found another empty packet on the floor next to his socks.
“Cas, before I leave, I want you to tell me how many times we made love and how many foil wrappers you picked up.”
“Four times.” She put her toe on the foot lever and looked into the lined trashcan. “Three condoms and three wrappers.”
“One wrapper was on the floor.” He slipped the colorful foil under the door.
“So where’s the condom?”
“I have no idea.”
She opened the door between them and the pain in her expression was obvious. She would barely look at him, and he knew she was as upset as he.
Taking her shoulders in his hands and then cupping her chin, he gazed at her downcast eyes. “I used a condom. It’s got to be here someplace. I didn’t take it off. You were on top, you rolled over beside me, and took my hand.”