I leaned back in my oversized Lazy Boy, clasping my hands behind my head, legs hanging out straight on the footrest. The football game was playing on a tiny screen on the far wall, my head turned to the side - watching her.
Her back was to me.
She had on a pair of faded jeans, pockets hanging down. She was wearing a little red top, stretching her arms high in the air.
Str--etch--ing.
Her little top lifting up high, flaring out. Her thin waist rising from those jeans, holding tight around her hips. Standing there on one leg, then the other shifting her weight, tipping her hips one way and then the other. I could tell by the way the fabric moved, the crease down her backside, she had nothing on underneath. Those jeans riding so low I could see her butt crack at the top, and those cute little dimples above each ass cheek. Oh.....those tiny hips.
Str---------etch
So slow, relaxed. Her blonde hair in this lions mane falling down the center of her back, resting between her shoulder blades.
Then...
turning, arms dropping back through her hair, the scent of fruit shampoo and powder. The bottom of her top curving up exposing her tummy, her navel pierced demurely. A little steel stud sticking straight up from the flesh there. The way those jeans plunged even lower at the front, the V in her top, held by just three little buttons. Not a goddam thing underneath.
And she does it again.....str------etch....arms high, yawning wide, arms out. "Oh God," she lilts. "The turkey makes me soooooo tired." Her fingers reaching, held out as if she were about to catch something.. I can see her trembling, she stretches so hard.
My little artist. My little angel.
I am vacantly smiling. Enjoying the show as all men my age do when their 24 year-old niece steps into the room and stretches for you. Head laying to the side, light beer buzz, legs akimbo, just laying there in my Lazy Boy.
Her top lifting high, higher, and I can just see her ribs, her small breasts, god the weight of them. Thoughts of.....her jeans, god how I love those jeans. Her hip bones forming this perfect frame, her little tummy. Her navel is a good three inches above the waist, and curving low, so low I can literally see the hint of her mound, that bone that rises out between her hips, the one you bump.... bump hard when you're...
There should be some hairs there I am thinking. Something. I look more closely, scanning her mid-riff. Nothing. Bare, soft white flesh. A little snap and two inches of zipper in blue denim bunching between her legs. I close my eyes, can feel a little sweat on my brow.
"Tired Uncle Paul?" That lilt in her voice again. I keep my eyes closed.
"Hmmmm. Yes, think I'll nap now Eva."
***********
Me: Hi sweet. Thanks again for coming. Did you have a nice time?
Eva: Yes, it was nice.
Me: It was all very pleasant. Did you like the turkey?
Eva: Yes, it was good.
Me: Mmhhmm. Did you have enough to eat?
Eva: Yes. I had too much to eat. Made me sleepy. I napped up in your room. Giggles.
Me: You did?!? And I napped on that Lazy Boy. I have a crick in my neck. Did you get to see the cat?
Eva: (Giggles) Oh my favorite puss pus. Yes. She's so cee-ute!
Me: *chuckles* You didn't have to eat today did you?
Eva: .....uh, uh.
Me: I ate next to nothing today. To full.
Eva: Hm.
Me: Mmhhmm ..... I just thought I'd give you a call. See how you were doing. I don't get to see you that much these days, or your mom. Miss me from when I lived there?
Eva: Mmmm, yeah, I guess so. Long time ago now.
Me: So what's new? How's the pets? Your zoo is more quiet huh? Did you like the pajamas I got you? Have you worn them?
Eva: Yes, I did. They were nice. Silk.
Me: And do they fit?
Eva: Well, they were a little loose, larger than.... I can just tie the string tight and it stays on fine. Not totally obscene I guess....
Me: Oh well, you can just grow into them. That's what I figured.
Eva: --------
Me: Your mom asked me how much I had to drink ... I only had three beers. I wasn't trashed. That's what she thought? She said I was falling over. If I'm falling over its just that I can't walk anymore. Too old.
Eva: --
Me: anyway, mmhhmm, it was nice talking to you.
Eva: I think I gotta go.
Me: You can call me sometime. Mmhhmm. Bye!
I hung up the phone and stared.
Fuck. It's passing. I needed to say something. My hands were trembling. I pressed a glass of scotch to my lips. The tips of my fingers were numb.
--
I couldn't stop thinking about her. It had been better for quite some time, but seeing her yesterday. Everything flooding back. I shouldn't have called. I wanted to pick up the phone and dial her number again, tell her I shouldn't of called.
I pick up the receiver and press 'past calls' - stare at her number. Then turn it off again, and lay it on the table.
It was her cell phone number. SHE gave it to me. Told me to call.
Where was she?
God I miss her.
That's where this story begins.
************
I think back.
The pain I felt at 18 was unbelievably. Memories of throwing myself down onto my bed, just crying, crying my eyes out. Tears in the corner of my eyes always, hair in my mouth sobbing sadness. Literally tangling around my arms.
I was so sad...Amazingly I don't feel any of it now, it's gone. Has it vanished from the room completely? From my life? Is it gone for good? I feel normal now.
The only window to that stain in my life - that time - was Uncle Paul, my moms brother. He came to live with us for awhile, going through his own private hell I guess. Of which I know so little because I was in such a black hole, could only see in - not out. I remember nothing else. Well, that's not true. But now.....I don't know. He still calls. He calls too often.
I let him, and then.....It's like I am sitting in the room with myself. Me then, before. THAT person.
I don't know. I try to be normal with him, but.....
Eva walks over to her desk and pulls open the bottom drawer. There are portfolios zipped shut leaning against the wall. Projects for new clients. Her apartment is just three months old now, signed a lease without any co-signer. First time in her life, a sort of steady boyfriend, a sense of her own now without the need.
Just those phone calls...
The drawer slides open, and tugging away at a pile of clean panties, there at the bottom, a little dog eared notebook. Pink stickers and pen marks, a chewed corner. Tear stains. There is a hole punched through the back.
Eva opens the book slowly, reading randomly:
'What the fuck is happening to me? Why the fuck is my life so in pieces..... I am waiting, always waiting! I literally felt myself leave my body today, just like I was absent, gone. I thought it was supposed to be different when I graduated. That college was supposed to be this wonderful time in my life. But I am indifferent, so alone and then.....fucking assholes, everyone all over, all around me. Fucking assholes. I'm just so trapped, this room, home. I can't breathe. I don't want to go out.'
Another page: 'I just want to SLEEEEEEEEEP forever.'
Another: 'I have this PAINFUL craving to be loved right now. Please. The idea of sleeping alone makes me sick, I feel like I'm going to throw up. I can't breath, my chest is so tight. I can't stop crying. I am so alone right now, and there is no one to call. No one to talk to . I am utterly alone. My walls are so close, its dark and silent. I am sinking in a tomb. I want to feel, but I can't. The floor is concrete, there might as well be bars....how can it feel like this?????'
A few more pages:
'I'm so cold. My hands are blue.'
'I don't think he loves me.. Not a shit, the shit... I can't tell anymore. I used to know, could feel the love, something. I didn't need this. I WANTED to believe. And now, I need need need all the time, and no one is there for me. I am sooooooo alone. I can't stop thinking about him?? My heart shivers every time I go through my saved voice mails and hear his voice. Play them again.....'
'I have to let him go... but the right thing and the easy things are often intensely difficult. I don't know that I'm ready to let go of someone who holds so much significance to me. But...he doesn't give two shits.....I am, just what he called me. A needy stupid bitch.'
That's where the story begins.
***************
Paul arrived carrying nothing but one suitcase. I didn't give two thoughts, simply said hi and ran up to my room. He would be staying in the basement. There was a story that his girlfriend had kicked him out of his house, something like that. My mom alluding that he had hit on his girlfriends best friend while they were having problems. I sort of distantly listened, I think after everything that's all I know. I remember thinking, 'So....another asshole.' Graduation was just a month prior, I was signed up for college, and it was then the darkness set in. I would never see my 'friends' again. We cried and said our goodbyes, and then, everyone left. Gone. And it was then, I started to keep a journal. We were this weird wounded family.
But there was something about Paul, his 'situation.' It was the same, we were cut adrift. Hurting, or I thought that anyway. The same really, and......
He listened.
Mom was gone all the time, making ends meet; and when she did listen all I got was a list of platitudes, expectations. Didn't she realize I was tired, sad, didn't she know? Couldn't she sense ANYTHING. But her life was hard too for reasons I also knew nothing about. He would pay some rent and that helped.
I can remember our first conversation. The way he listened. He sat down by me in the living room, the house was silent. I was staring out....vacant like. I can imagine how I was.
"You like graduating?"
"S'ok." He leaned closer. "I don't know. It's weird, lots of my friends are gone. Sort of....lonely." I shrugged.
"I remember graduating. It was hard. I didn't like it, the change." I didn't respond. "What classes you taking?"
"I want to focus on art. My art.....I'm an artist."
"Really? Your mom said you painted. So am I. What do you do?"
"I don't know. Paint. Sculpt. Photography."
"I'd like to see some of it. I could show you some of mine. I paint, oil paint." He was smiling, but like an adult. Condescension. He continued, "Can I see something?"
"Now?"
"Yes."
"Uh, sure ok." I got up, and no one ever really asked me like that before. I went to my room. Opened my plastic portfolio's. Grabbed some stuff. He came in my room.
"Here." I laid it out on the bed.
He paged through very slow, sometimes touching the paper with his finger. "Nice. I like this here." He traced his finger along a line I had drawn. He said it again, "Nice. I like it. Your good."
"Thanks." Shrugging my shoulders. I smiled for the first time in awhile.
"Not many artists in the world anymore. It's a lonely life," he said. Lonely. I wanted to cry, I turned my head away. The tears. I don't think he noticed, he continued, "This one, what's this one about?"
I looked. Shit! That one's in there?
"My boyfriend. I mean, it was my boyfriend, former boyfriend I should say."
He had his shirt off, and his pants were open. Not showing anything, but suggestive. Forgot that one was in there. I blushed.
"Ohhhhh." He met my eyes.
"No. Nothing. Nothing like that." I could have let him think anything I guess. I continued, "It's not like we were ever that intimate. We never did anything. Maybe a blowjob. He was, you know, just posing." I was going to say he was an asshole.....
Paul was taken aback, he turned the page toward him, "Only a blowjob? Ok-ay." He quickly closed the portfolio again. I liked the shock in his face, the effect that had on him. It was funny, and I didn't add anything, let it linger just then. "What art classes you doing?"
"Sculpting and the Painting Figures when this quarter starts."
"Nudes?"
I looked sideways at him Weird question.
I just looked away, said, "Probably, hadn't thought about it. I just like painting people."
"I like figures too, I liked doing...nudes. Still do now and then." He was looking at me, I brushed some hair out of my eyes. It sort of creeped me out, but sort of didn't at the same time. The way he looked at me, like we were painting each other. Really looking. We were artists.
Anyways he took a big interest in my art. I had a photography class too.
*************
I looked at the phone for a while as it rang in my hand. It was him.
Click.
"Hi."
"Hi sweet. It's me Paul."
"I know."
"Um, can I. I want to talk to you about something."
I knew this conversation was coming. "Yeah."
"Ummmm. We had some interesting moments didn't we? And... I was just wondering. You ok about that?"
I closed my eyes, remembering. That girl in the corner, I am thinking. "Sure. Fine." I was uncomfortable already. That girl in the corner looking at me.
"Meaning....."
"I don't know Paul. It was a different time in my life. Long time ago now. You helped out. That's it. I think...That's what I think."
"I still think about it."
"So do I."
"You do?"
"Yeah.... But probably....." I took a breath, "Probably not the way you are."
" I wasn't sure, you know. So, I was careful."
"Careful?"
"I tried to be...careful."
"I'm confused."
"I just, I didn't want to hurt you. I don't think ever did. I don't want to think I did or anything. It's why I'm asking."
"You were following me to class. Spying on me in the art room, that time I was posing. After we stopped....." I didn't continue.
Silence. "We talked about that. You said it was ok."
"It was. It is. But, it's all in the past. The past, ok? It was a different.....me."
"Eva?"
"Yes."
"I want to see you....see you again."
"You saw me the other day."
"I mean."
"I know what you mean."
"I don't think that's possible."
"Did you like our time together?"
"I'm not answering. I....don't really know. Me now? Or me then?"
"Both I know you did. You had to. You were so sad when I first met you, you were happy when I left. It helped. I helped you. I did. Tell me I helped."
He knew. "I ...." tears came to my eyes for some reason. The girl in the corner was standing.
"What was it? Didn't I care for you? I listened."
I held back my tears then, not even knowing why. "It was a long time ago. You.....I don't know. I can't do this now Paul.....Maybe. Yeah, but you helped a different person. It's not me anymore. Just stop."
"You're crying."
"No. No I'm not." I was wiping a tear from off my face.
"You are. I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe that."
"No it's not that. You cared about me then, that's all. It's touching somehow that anyone would care, then. Now. I don't know. I was very vulnerable, and I think all my boundaries were messed up, and I let you get very close. And...I needed you to be. It's hard to explain. In some wacky weird way, it was right. There is a part of you that is very close to me, even now. But too close."
"I just want to see you. See you.....like I did, like you used let me. Just Talk. Tell you how beautiful you are."
"I don't know if I can explain this. It would hurt. Hurt too much. Expose too much."
"You wouldn't hurt me."
"Me! I would hurt me."
"I could paint you. You could pose."
"Is this just about my body? Cause if..."
"No. No. No. It's not that at all. Did....did you ever want more from me?"
"Ha! Than YOUR body?"
"No."
"What? What do you mean?"
"Were you attracted to me? Did you ever think that maybe, while I was you know, listening to you, holding you, touching..."
I could feel his hands. "Let me think about it."
"I'm glad we talked. I Love you...you know."
"—bye."
Eva pulled the silk tie tightly around her, took a deep swallow of wine.
*************
It was dark, beyond dark. The kind of blackness you cannot see through, and I heard some sort of whooshing sound, a rustle.
"Yes," I said looking out from my bed. "Is someone there?"
"It's me."
Reaching across I turned on a side light. I was laying in a little basement room, one full bed, no pictures on the wall. One wall was painted concrete block, there were no windows, and there standing in the corner before me was Eva. Not even a clock. The only time she ever entered this room with the light on.
"What is it?"
"Nothing." She looked away, smearing tears. I had seen that before, she was so emotional. "It's only, just, I don't want to be alone right now. Can I sit here a little while Uncle Paul?"
"Sure. Sure." I pulled up my cover and with my hand smoothed a little spot. She settled herself at the end of the bed. Eva was wearing a thin fabric top, it looked red but it may have been pink, it looked silk. The light was low. She had on a pair of matching bottoms, loose, creating a space between her top and bottoms which would peek in and out of view. Her thin legs are dangling over the side of the bed, her knees together, hands in her lap looking down. Her hair was a mess, everywhere, but she looked cute that way. Like a lost little girl in a Victorian novel. Such blonde hair.
"You alright?"
She's nodding. "You probably notice, there's a lot of times I'm not." Tears rising, she is wiping her cheeks with her hand. I am silent. "I am having a hard time lately, and I just, just don't know what it is." Tears again. "I just don't want to be alone right now."
"You're not alone. I'm here. Every day, no where else for me to go right now." I sigh and look around, this room looked like the wreck of my life. I reach out and touch her hand, she doesn't move it at all. I lay my fingers over hers.
"You want to talk about it?"
She shakes her head. "I....could I just. It's late I know. You can say no. Can I just get in bed with you? For a little while."
My eyes wide, and she is standing again. I look around, "Sure. Sure." I lift the cover to my left and feel her slip in to the bed, light as a feather. The mattress barely moves.
"Thanks," as she rolls away from me, curling into this little ball.
I turn off the light and in the blackness she backs herself up so her back is touching my chest, and her head is right in the crook of my arm. I am wearing a pair of boxers, what I sleep in, and now am finding myself stroking Eva's hair, thinking how the hell did she get here.
She is warm, so warm in my arms, pressing herself to me. Her hair is soft and it is pitch black without light to show off the blonde tresses. I can hear her breathing. She smells of sweet perfume. I have one arm extending under her, and my other just stroking her hair.
After awhile she breathes, "You probably think I'm crazy."
I pause, then say, "Well, yeah."
She giggles. "Well, maybe I am."
I say, "It runs in the family. Don't worry. I felt the same way when I was your age."
"You did?."
"You'll survive. It gets better." Silence, and I add, "You wear silk."
"What?"
"Your pyjamas, they're silk. Real silk. I can tell." I run my hand over her shoulder and feel her leaning against me as she looks back. "My favorite fabric." I continue to caress her shoulder over the silk fabric, and just tip my fingers over the edge of her sleeve and feel the bare skin of her arm. Stilling my thoughts. The feel of her skin, the warmth of her body and my body is responding, naturally. No controlling that. It has been a long time.
I can feel her hair on my cheek, and the smell of her. I am laying there, breathing her in, taking her in with every sense I have. Shampoo, sweet perfumes and oils. She moves around a bit and lets me close my arms around her. I hold her close. This IS what she wants. Simply be held. I can do that.I kiss the back of her head, kiss the mess of hair. "Nite. Nite. Eva.."
And we fall asleep. Little did I realize she would sleep in my bed for the next six months.
************
Afer awhile I actually felt that my little conversation with Paul had gone well, and after a few days thought it had even been necessary. The unspoken-ness of everything made all my contacts with him stilted and uncomfortable. I was imagining that through a proper venting of his old feelings, it could pass, pass into nothing the way it had for me. We could be 'friends.'
I was wrong.
I know he was being selfish, as I had been so many years before. I needed to vent then, and I 'used' him for that, somehow. It all got tangled, confused. I know. He wanted for some reason to know that 'I remembered.' That it happened. That it mattered to me. Ok. I can do that, it did happen. But things like this CAN seem like a dream, and sometimes we need to let them. Sometimes things happen that ARE dreams.
But...he continued to call, and I didn't know what to do. I did answer. I could see his phone number same as he saw mine. I could just let it ring.
But -- this became a game we played:
No matter what the conversation, he would bring it around to what I eventually called 'The Subject.' That is what I came to call it. As in, 'Oh no....NOT The Subject again.' Which was nothing more than me 'coming over some time,' us 'spending time together.' I got used to it, and let it roll around in our conversation. Like a wine you let swirl in your mouth, taste it, and then spit it out again.
Like all things, It became normal. And in a particularly piqued moment, I would let myself get wicked.
--
"So....what would you do IF I let you come over?"
"I ....."
"Haven't you thought about it? You haven't even thought about it, ah - I'm offended." Mockery in my voice.
"I've thought about it, but it all depends on.....you."
"Me? I see."
"Yes."
"But.....in your own mind. How do you see it?"
"I come in and sit down, and in my imagination. That's what you mean right?"
"So far, Yes."
"Well, uh, You let me undress you."
"Ha! That's it? I let you undress me."
"Well I....we talk."
"That's soooo cute. No transition, no conversations - just 'Here, come and undress me?'"
"Well, you said...."
"I know what I said. It's just ....You're funny. That's it? All this....."
"How do you imagine it?"
"How do I? I don't know. I might give you too much information." I poured myself a glass of wine, ouch.
Silence.
"Hmmmm. I think we have to at least have some wine first." I sipped. "Definitely some wine. I don't see you undressing me without wine, do you? You dirty old man. I would stand in front of you. Ask you to close your eyes. No....no, that's too, cliche....Maybe I would just undress right in front of you. Normal. Totally casual. Like I do when I get home in the evening before slipping into my robe. Pretend you aren't there. Would that be all right?"
"I can picture it. Yes."
"I'll bet it would. This something you want to do every day, or like just once?"
"I don't know. It's just, I've never seen you Eva."
"The hell. I know you Have."
"I mean.....we were in the dark."
"Or you were spying....Ha! You know what I'm doing?"
"What?"
"Touching myself. I'm just talking away about this, and now my hand is tucked in right between my legs. Without even thinking about it. You'd like to watch that I bet?."
"Your not dressed?"
"I said, I come home and change into my robe in the evening. Just..."
"Is it silk?"
"Hahahaha. Paul. I got to go. Nite Nite."
"Eva, I..."
Click.
--
***************
I talked to Eva, tried to listen. Her treks to my room in the middle of the night were becoming routine, and she seemed a bit happier. Smiling, playful even. I never said no, it was innocent.
----
Eva was laying on her back, the lights are out it is pitch black and I am turned toward her, can see only the barest shadow of her, can feel her warmth and she is talking about when she was in high school. "I was a math tutor this last year, I'm good in math, and there was this one guy who needed help. At least I think he did. But, he liked me."
"How did you know?"
Her eyes on me in the blackness. I could feel her turning, "I knew. I guess...The way he looked at me."
"You can't tell by that."
"Oh yeah, girls know."
I was somewhat embarrassed in that moment. I thought of how I looked at Eva, the evenings we spent..."Did he try to hold your hand?" And I reached out under the covers and took her hand, she let her hand wrap into my fingers.
"Yeah."
"Did you kiss, you know make out?"
"Naw, nothing really like that. You know what. Boys in high school are kind of dumb....no really dumb. Not real romantic at all. And I like romance." I felt her fingers running up the back of my hand, it was warm in our little cocoon. "That's my problem."
"That's not a problem. Who doesn't want that?"
"Mmmmm. I don't know....Boys."
I was running my hand up along her arm now stroking her lightly beneath the covers. I could feel her breath on my cheek. She was laying so close. Her head was turned to me and her one shoulder was tipping, but she was still laying on her back. Tonight she was wearing a white cotton T shirt, but the bottoms were still the silk. I touched the edge of her sleeve and said, "I like when you wear your silk."
"Mmmm, I got my silk bottoms on though. The top was dirty."
I lay my hand on her shoulder, held it there and then took my hand away, and thought to myself - was that an invitation to touch the silk bottoms? My heart began to pound, the softness of her skin, our warmth. I could feel myself harden. We had been sleeping in the same bed now for how long was it now? This little routine. We were in fact both alone. I lay there, and I admit I thought about it, but I let the moment pass.
She said nothing. Was she waiting? And I began simply to stroke her arm again.
"I don't know if I will meet any boy that will truly love me. Romance me." She was whispering this now, as if it were a secret.
"You don't know that. That is very unlikely."
"Mmmm. They say what you want to hear and then leave...No. Worse. Let me tell you about a boys' idea of romance. Math tutor boy, ok, I did date him for awhile. Oh, he's the one I did the picture of..."
My mind drifted to him, instantly remembering this would be the guy she gave a blowjob to. They never kissed?
"He was trying to get me to have sex with him." Her warm breath washing over me, this whispered story in the darkness. "He would talk about how many girls he slept with, how good he was. How no girl ever complained, how they always had such wonderful or-gasms." Giggles. "And this was like....supposed to somehow 'turn me on.'"
I brought my hand up onto her front now and began stroking her tummy, lightly so lightly. She took a breath in, and with trembling fingers I tipped the fabric of her top back and touched her bare skin. Felt the concave arc of her belly between her hips.
She turned herself into a ball just then, and giggling called out, "That tickles," and pulling away my hand dropped away.
"That, Paul, is a BOYS idea of romance. Pathetic. Anyways, so curious now I ask, so who are some of these girls you've slept with? Which took him totally by surprise...I was calling his bluff, see. I just loved the look on his face, it was like....."
And as she was talking I did it again, only this time she let me. Turning herself slightly further toward me and I stroked these little light circles around her belly, drawing a finger over her navel, and below into the space between her hips and tracing the line of her bottoms. Touching the silk now.
"So he gives me some names..." She starts laughing now, only this was over what she said. "Sara and...."
"Silk," I said.
"Huh. Oh. Yeah.....I said. Are you listening to me?"
Honestly I hadn't heard a thing she said. "Yeah."
She was moving away a bit again, saying, "What did I just say?"
"You said...." I paused and reaching out to her began to touch her some more beneath the covers, but she was covering my hands with hers now and pushing them down into the mattress.
"Uh uh.... not unless you can tell me what I was saying."
I turned toward her then, and pressing harder began rolling her onto her back, pressing my hands on her, planting my palm on her belly and then pushing up slightly beneath her top, lay my hand flat there just below her breasts. I could feel her heart beating, and lifting myself up on one elbow.
She was rolling back and forth, pushing back at me and in a hushed tone, squealing, "Stop! Stop it! Stop!" Grunting and pushing at me. "It tickles. It tickles. Ahhh. Ahhhh."
I was grazing the edges of her breasts now, the bare flesh just touching my finger tips. "I heard every word." I had also grown hard.
"You did not."
"You were talking about what shits boys are," and she lay her hand over mine right over her heart, over the silk fabric, my hand was planted right between her breasts. She was laughing now, "I always talk about that," and she began rolling to her side away from me. "I am always talking about that. Boys ARE shits. Besides, that's not what I said. So nope, don't touch me."
I paused, lifted up on one elbow. Was she pouting now? Or still playing?
I lay my hand on her back, "Don't. You know what, you're a shit."
I took my hand away, then did it again. "D-O-N-T!" She shook herself.
And again, and again. This little game continued. "Would you stop it!" She finally said exasperated. "All you want to do is touch me. You are always touching me."
"That's not true. But....I like holding you. I listen, better than you know. You were talking about that boy giving you a blowjob."
The room went still.
"I never did!" She sat up. "Where did you hear that?"
"You, you said it." I thought she had.
"No I didn't!"
I couldn't remember now. But, she had said it. I remembered. "Well, you did. Sometime. He's the one though right? You said something about how you never did anything with him, JUST a blowjob. You said that, to me, sometime."
"Not tonight. But, oh yeah."
She lay back down and I was turning to her again. Mind you this whole little game is happening in pitch blackness. "Let me ask you something, you say you didn't do anything with him. Not really. Dated him a little, never kissed, but a blowjob... That's pretty intimate isn't it?"
Her voice went into a low whisper. "First, whatever we say here is between us. Ok. Promise."
I said, "Ok." She was letting me into her world, inside our little black cocoon.
"I don't want to hear anything from my mom or anything."
"No."
"Ok. All my friends. No, It's not a big deal. Not like kissing."
"It's more intimate than kissing, it is."
"It's.....it's like sucking on a finger. Boys like it, we do it. At parties even. Jerks them off and they can leave us alone. Everyone does it. Boys you would never think of kissing."
I was dumbstruck, never heard such a thing.
She lay herself down, pulling the covers back over herself. "Well you sort of listen," and she leaned in and gave me a short kiss on the lips, then lay back down and scootched herself back pushing into my broad chest, letting me wrap my arms around her. This was the signal for when we were to fall to sleep, only tonight I had grown hard, very hard. I guess I was one of those boys.
As she scooted back this time, I moved away. "Sorry," I said, thinking about the kiss she had just given me, and the new hierarchy of intimacy.
"For what?"
"For not listening."
"S'ok. You listen good 'nuf."
I folded my hands around her and pressed my flat hand back beneath her top again, she lay her hand over mine, holding me there. She jumped her bottom back a bit again, and my cock was pressing lightly against her backside. She has to have felt that, I tried to move again. She following and her movements seemed a little probing, sort of 'what's this?' and then an 'oh' and moving a little away again.
Truth. I wanted to cum, normally when I felt like this I could relieve myself. I was softly scritching my fingers over her tummy and I felt her press one of her legs between mine, my hard cock no longer an intruder.
"Feels nice. I'm warm tonight. Nite Paul."
And we lay like that, silent for quite a long time, just me drawing lazy circles on her abdomen, my cock laying along her backside.
**************
"You're doing it again!"
"What."
"Your not listening. Does my body distract you."
"No, a little. Maybe a little."
"Then don't touch me all the time. Listen for awhile, THEN maybe I'll let you touch me.
I took my hand away. "Ok."
"I have an opportunity to get a job. Only this is a sort of a weird job, it pays good. But I go to school in the Department, I need to know what you think."
"I'm listening." I can feel the warmth of her body nearby, and this is sort of hard right now because truth-be-told I do listen, and I do like the intimacy of the way we hold hands, and the way she let me run my hand along her arms. I like touching her as I listen. She touching me with her voice and me with my hands. I can still feel her breath on me, she is laying that close. She is wearing her silk tonight, a different outfit.
"But it's as a model. A figure model."
"Nude?"
"Hmm. Hmmm." Nervous giggles. "Oh God. I said no at first, but then I think about it. I said I was in the department, and they said that in the evening is when the opening is and that completely different people go to class than the day school. And....."
"So how do you feel about exposing yourself to a group of strangers?"
"I don't know. Sometimes it seems ok, and also exotic, free....." I am reaching my hand out and lay it on her hand, I just want to feel her for just a moment. She excuses the indiscretion.
"Well? Tell me."
"I think you should do what you want."
"You're no help. But, I think I'm going to take the job. It's $25 an hour."
I was picturing her naked standing, illuminated for all to see. Understand, I am an artist. That in this blackest of rooms I can't even see her eyes. She walks in here in the dark, knows her way. The light never comes on. She is gone before I get up. I curl my fingers into hers and squeeze, she letting me.
"Do it. You seem happier."
"Oh, It's still hard. I have hard days. I can get pretty depressed."
"You seem better."
"Yeah. Better I guess."
I lay my hand on her tummy again, lifting her top. "We still talking?"
She laughs, "Not so much."
"You said,"
"You just want my b-o-d-y."
"No I....." and she took my hand and pressed it into her tummy.
"S'ok. No I said," and I began to stroke her tummy in my broad circles, bushing with my fingers, up along her rib cage, down her arms. Stroking her with the back of my hand. She laying there arms out at her side, "Hmmm. It feels nice."
I continued, wondering.... Drawing my fingers along the line of her bottoms, and then back up over her navel. Her hair was touching my shoulder, she was just laying there arms at her side. Occasionally she would stroke the back of my arm with her hand, hold and follow the path of my fingers. "You touch so nice and soft. Romantic."
I liked the way she said that, and let my hand wander up the front of her top, beneath the fabric, opening my hand wide and letting the edges of my fingers brush into her breasts on either site. For a moment I held my hand right there, could feel her collar bone with my opened fingers, then curling my hand moved my open palm right over her breast, one then the other. I could feel her heart beating, the rise and fall of her breath. I breathed out, "This ok?"
"Mmmm. Their so small, I guess it doesn't really matter."
"Ok."
I loved the rationalization. Her breasts are small.....so it doesn't matter. I ran my fingers down her side and she brought her arms down over my hand and held it there, "Tickles," she said.
"Sorry."
"S'allright.....You say sorry a lot."
"I do."
"Yeah. You don't have to. You'll know when I'm mad. When to be sorry."
I laughed. "Ok."
She lay with her hands still at her side and then I said, "You know what my favorite part on a woman is?"
There was this pause, "What?"
"Guess."
"Ummmm, Breasts." My hands squeezing her breasts as she said that, and she giggles.
"Close, but no."
"Ummmmm..." and her voice was changing into a little squeak, "My, um..."
"No," anticipating what she was going to say, but sorry I did. I wished I had let her say it.
"I'll show you." I felt her stiffen. Not sure what I was up to.
I brought my hand down now to her bottoms and pushed them low, quite low, probably lower than I had to. One side of her bottoms were down near mid-thigh. She let me. I was laying my hand now right over her hip bone, bending my hand, letting my fingers tip right into her abdomen, right along the line where her leg runs from her crotch to the top her hipbone. There was a little concave line extending down. Hard and soft. I expected to touch a little downy pussy hair at my finger tips, and I even began to shift my fingers around a little, sort of checking.
"Can I ask you something?" As I stroked her there, holding my hand to her, my favorite place on a woman's body.
She was silent, her voice small, "Sure."
"Do you shave?"
"Shave?"
"Yeah, you know down there."
She giggled a little, "No. I don't grow very much though. You know what? Someone told me you can tell how much pussy hair a girl has by her eyebrows. If a girl has bushy eyebrows she has a big bushy pussy. I have almost no hair on my eyebrows."
I kept my hand right there.
She continued, "Check."
And in the silence, the darkness, I let my fingers trace the line of her mound between her legs, the rise of the bone there, tipping my fingers, so soft, so slow. Only the slightest hairs growing there, barely anything at all, downy soft, short hairs. They rose up from between her legs in this little line. There was a noticeable clump of hair, almost like a cowlick right above her little cunny. I let the hairs there press through my fingers. I could feel the dimple, the rise of each side of her pussy lips. I could feel her holding her legs tight together as I did this, hear her breathing.
"See?"
"You're right," I said.
My cock was so hard I could not stand it. I ached. I felt her move my hand away, and I let her. She tugged her bottoms back in place, turning herself away from me and scootching back, I wrapped my arms around her. She felt especially warm tonight. She pressed her bottom against my cock, knowing what it was, tipping one leg back between my legs. And I let her feel me, my hardness, didn't try to move away. I felt her waggle her hips a little and settle in, positioning me right at the crack of her ass. I wanted to hump into her, god I was so hungry just then, but did not move, if anything very little. The guise of getting comfortable I guess.
We lay silent a long time.
--
I heard her whisper, "Paul."
"Yes."
"You're still hard."
"Hmmm. It's ok. I can't help it."
"No. I mean, I can.....I'd be willing to, you know. No big deal."
I paused, my mind was spinning. I could feel my heart in my throat, I was trembling at the thought.
"We can't, your mom....."
"She turned herself around again and deftly lay her hand on my cock, curled her fingers around its tip through the fabric. "No one needs to know."
I was about to say no, I honestly was. But the warmth of her, her hand gripping my cock. I felt her slipping down, her head dipping beneath the covers and I lay my head back, closed my eyes. I felt her tugging at my boxers, and lifted my ass from the mattress. She slid them down just far enough, I could feel my cock release. There was a pause, just her beneath the covers. Before....I felt her mouth wrap around the head of my cock in one motion and immediately begin pumping. She didn't kiss the tip first or lick it, didn't touch it, she just put her mouth around me and began to pump. But god oh god. Her pressure was simply exquisite. The room was pitch, it could be a dream, I lay there looking out feeling the wetness of her mouth on me. I lay my hands upon her head. She was down at my side and I could touch no other part of her than the hair on her head.
She rose and fell on me, pressing her lips around my cockhead, rising and falling, swirling her tongue around the underside of my cock. To exquisite for words. I was squeezing my eyes, and panting, breathing out, holding my mouth open. Saying stupid things like, "oh god." and "so good." Opening my legs, letting her.
She was moving faster now as if she could sense my urgency, the rising of my cum. Would she swallow? I stopped thinking, pushing on her head, guiding her, bucking my hips up now to meet her, filling her mouth. I could feel the head of my cock press back into her throat. Abandoning any pretense of ....I don't know what. I was fucking, fucking her plain and simple. Fucking her mouth, she was letting me. I began to stiffen, tightening my legs, I could feel her dig her nails into my thigh, and it set me off, set me off immediately and ribbons of cum began to rise, spray out of me. My hips shaking, and she was drinking me in, every drop. Holding her mouth to me, and sucking slowly, licking with her tongue drawing out the drops. Sucking, feeling me go limp in her mouth, and then a last bite with her teeth, I could feel her teeth sink into my now soft cock, limp in her mouth and then she let go.
How would I look at her tomorrow? We had crossed some lines with each, but in my world this was intimate. She tugged my boxers back in place and then briefly lay her hand over my crotch and gave it a squeeze.
"There. Better now."
"Eva, I..."
"Shhhh." She lay back on her side, scootched back into my chest, letting me wrap my arms around her.
"Nite. Nite."
*****************
I was laying in the black little room, it was something like 1:00 am. I don't have a memory of my six months with Eva in linear time at all, time in fact vanished.
It seemed like it was just one single night, the same night. I can't really put anything in any order at all. She had come down at midnight, way past when I normally fall asleep. I would wait for her some evenings, I remember thinking 'Maybe she won't come.' Later she would come down earlier, but not much.
And I could hear the footsteps, and the tightening in my chest as she padded down the stairs, the burning in my eyes when she came into the room. We never turned the lights on, she knew her way. It was her house.
I was thinking all this one of the evenings for the first time. Eva over time grew ever more comfortable. She loved to lay across my chest, pressing her small breasts against my chest as she talked, then throwing herself back into the bed. I would lay on my side and look out into the darkness and reach with my hands, finding her, feel her body. She loved to be touched, stroked, petted, and would simply lay her head back, sighing at some of my intrusions. I was cautious, somewhere in my mind thinking what was right, what was wrong, 'This is alright' and that nothing would come of it. I had drawn several lines, which were steadily being crossed.
I loved her breasts, and would simply lay my hand over them as she talked, and simply press my fingers into her flesh with a sort of light rhythm of my own making, play with her nipples, feeling them tighten. Tug at them until she would make me stop - ouch, she would say. Her sighs were wonderful, my justification. She was enjoying me, she was coming down every night wasn't she? She could stop, though I don't really know what I would have done had she stopped.
Moving was fairly devastating. It was a difficult transition, we saw each other often the next three months. But never shared a bed again. My life had come to revolve around her, in fact as I became dependent she became her own woman.
I believe her sadness became mine. It is difficult to understand, to describe. It simply did not occur in real time, and when I think back everything seems more like a dream than anything else.
This evening of my memory she was laying across my chest, her hair tickling my ear, hanging down around my face, her mouth -as always - was close. I could have kissed her, and thought about it. I was listening, half listening. I had my hand round her waist and slowly stroking back over her ass with my one hand, drinking in her body. Feeling her warmth, her breath, her skin.
Eva was telling a story, "...I was putting my clothes away in my room when I realized I was missing a sock. It figured. I had to go back to the basement, and I ran down with nothing on, no one was home. I was beginning to realize that having this body, being a sexual being, wasn't so bad. I'd recovered from everything that had happened with Justin. He still said hi to me in the halls, like nothing had happened. His friends had shut up, moving on to more interesting matters. My life had continued."
"The only difference was that now I had no real interest in any of the other boys at school. None except Jason. I knew Jason. I trusted Jason. I loved him in so many ways. To me he seemed so perfect, how could any other boy ever measure up? I stood down there in the warm basement, and I passed a mirror. There I was! And I stood there gazing at my naked body, wondering what Jason would think if he'd ever had the chance to see it. Would he be disgusted? Would he think I was sexy? I felt this desperate longing to be needed by him, to be thought of as special by him. You know, romance. By Jason. I didn't want it from anyone else."
"And so, when he started talking about other girls, I was devastated. Other people. It was just horrible. I thought about him seeing me naked, but never did. I wanted to wait, for the right time. I don't know. But then I started realizing, he just didn't care."
I simply said to the darkness above me, "He wasn't the one." I ran my hands down her along the back of her leg.
"That's when I started to just start to feel depressed. Just a little. I would look around, and everyone was becoming strangers. I felt really alone for the first time. Separate. And I graduated. Jason said he would call, but he never did. Never. Why? What is wrong with me."
"Oh Paul. It was so bad last month. It scared me. I thought I might do something."
"You better now?"
"Most days. It's still hard. It's the anxiety."
"Maybe you should see somebody."
"Mmmmm." And she rolled off me then, laying with her hand on my chest. "I found some things that help. You don't have hair on your chest."
"Nope."
"None." She let her hand wander over my body. "I like that."
"I'm going to tell you something. A request really. Everything in this room stays in this room right?"
"Hmmm hmmm."
"When I feel anxious, when I'm stressed...." She paused, "I masturbate."
I paused, I felt her stiffen a little. She was shy about this. It seemed somehow cute to me, I felt my cock stiffen though at the same time.
"And lately I do it A LOT."
"Today. Yesterday. Once, I was very depressed and then I can get .....well, horny but I wasn't in a place that I could, you know, masturbate. So, low and behold there was a cucumber in the fridge at my friends house, I fixated on it. It's shape was just entirely too tempting. I couldn't resist."
"You didn't?"
"It felt soooo good stretching me. I left it there and walked around."
"You didn't." I could feel myself growing so hard.
"It was so cold, it like hurt. This is a Secret.....You think I'm crazy?"
"Let me ask you something."
"Mmm." My hands were roaming over her body, and I purposefully lay my hand right over her pussy. The silk bunching up in my hand. She didn't flinch, I felt her push her little mound up, tipping her hip just the tiniest bit. The topic of our discussion.
"Jason. He's the one you gave a blowjob to."
"Yes."
"Did he ever reciprocate. You know, for you. Same thing."
"Ohhhh. No. Not the same. Boys don't really get into that, none I know. And..." She held her hand to her mouth, "I think, that would be too intimate."
I lifted myself up and pulling my hand back, tipped my fingers under the elastic, gave her bare little cunny a squeeze just then. She letting me.
"I'm confused."
She breathed out. She had to be glowing right now, her puss felt warm, hot, she had to be wet, I was stroking her abdomen now, could feel her hips moving a little.
She was talking as I began to tug at her bottoms, she was lifting herself up from the mattress. I said, "I'm listening."
"A blowjob brings release, you know."
"Ok."
"So then, with release, the horny boy is all better. But if a boy were licking me down there..."
"Ohhhh." And at that moment I pressed my fingers down between her legs, she slid her legs open just a little bit, and I felt her cunny burst open, juices spilling around my fingers. Her bottoms down around her thighs.
"Ahhhhh." This long drawn out breath. "What are you doing?"
"Seeing if your as aroused as me."
I slid my fingers back and forth, pulling her open, I heard her laugh and suck in air at the same time as my finger grazed the end of her clit, she lay back on the bed. "You shouldn't."
"Let me."
"Let you what?"
"You know."
"I can't."
"Your wet."
"Hmmm. Hmmm. But....."
"Your horny. Ever had anyone do that before?"
"No....."
I waited.
"Ok." It came out in a grunt. "But.....I can't have anything touching me while you are, uh, doing it." She started to tug her bottoms off down her legs. "Pull the sheets back too. Just the mattress, K?"
I was moving across the bed, and could feel her scootching up the bed, could feel her knees part wide. I couldn't see a thing though.
"Want me to turn on the light?."
"NO!" I felt her knees snap shut. "Just, like this."
And I moved myself between her legs and lay my hand over her pussy and pressed, palming her softly, taking my time. I loved her smell, her powdery smell, and lowering myself slid my hands until they were clasping her thighs, holding them open.
I licked up through her center. God, fucking God, she was wet. So delicious. Smooth, soft fur, her little fur pie I remember thinking. Nothing longer than a half inch. I licked the flat of her pussy lips, each side and the curve between her pussy and her legs, Kissing the top, soft kisses. I let the little tuft of hair at the top of her puss play over my libs, and I was playing with her abdomen, little kisses. And lowering down again as my tongue really dug into her, lapping up her juices just feeling her dribble on my chin. Feeling her body tense and release as I moved on her.
She was breathing out her mouth I could hear her, panting, and she lay her hands on my head. "Oh god, this is nice." Her voice was lower, it was relaxed, more relaxed than I had ever heard her. I realized how tight she was wound, how it was in her voice. I realized that then. She had never really relaxed with me, and I continued to lick long strokes up her middle, and then took my finger and pressing into her vagina, I felt her open her legs wide feeling me up inside. Wider and wider. God she was flexible I thought how wide she could hold her legs.
Pressing my finger up inside her I started to press the tip of my tongue in around her clitoris. And I heard her let out this deep long moan. "Mmmmmmmmm," A growl really, she likes that I thought and I did it again, and again and again. Before I knew it she was pushing on the back of my head and undulating her hips against my mouth. Holding me to her. I held myself there for her, and let her move her body however she wanted, guiding me. Holding my tongue against her, the wet flesh, lapping away at her. God she was such a sexual, naturally sexual being, if felt like nothing I had ever felt. The intensity of her feeling began to fill me as well and I was touching her as if we were a single creature.
My tongue swirling around her hardening clit, and my finger curling up inside of her, pressing into the flesh of her and stroking her hard up inside, her body was arching back and I could feel a early wave up her body.
She was cooing, "Oh god you feel like you are rising right up my spine. My hair tingles."
"Oh, god, that keep doing that." And I was digging the tip of my tongue right into the underside of her clit. God I wanted to see her, everything pitch dark. And then her body began to stiffen and in one motion she was jerking her body hard, sitting up sort of, three times, these sudden jerks of her entire body and then, "Ahhhhhhh, God oh....I can't breathe." And pulling her legs together, arching her back, her hands pushing me hard against her. The top of her head mush be on the mattress and she was lifting herself. "I'm cumming. Oh, so..... good." I stayed with her and followed her body around, she was so wet, I could feel her vagina closing, sucking at my finger. God I was so hungry for, God I wanted to fuck her.
And then her hands came off me, fell away, and she turned herself one way then the other and I lifted myself up. She grasped me with her hands, and drew me close. I felt her lips fold around my lower lip, felt her mouth opening. Utterly yielding. God I was hard and she lay me down on top of her, our skin pressing together, the whole length of our naked bodies and I lay with her like that, my cock laying along her thigh, I wanted to fill her, cum in her, fuck her.
But what we did was kiss. We touched our tongues so tremulously, felt our teeth, pressed ourselves to one another. I lay my hands at the small of her back and lifted her to me. Held her in my arms. She was opening her mouth, I was kissing her lower lips, touching her, cradling her. She opened her eyes wide, and I swear I could see the whites of her eyes.
Her eyes met mine and I swear I could see her teeth, her smile. She just said, "Hi."
I said, "Hi."
"You're good," she said.
"It was your first time."
My cock dragged across her leg, "Your hard, still hard. Want me to?"
Her hand was caressing my cock. I looked down at her, we were utterly folded around each other. Her hands reaching inside my boxers. Her bottoms were gone, she was nearly sitting in my lap. God I could fuck her right now I thought, just lift her up and set her right down, she would let me.
All these thoughts in my head, I was feeling her hand on me, her bare thigh. I took my hands and began to unbutton her top. Three buttons. She held her arms open, and I slid them back, down her arms, tossed the light fabric to the floor. She was naked. I couldn't see her but she was naked. I brought my mouth down and kissed her breasts, took her small nipples in my mouth and began kissing down her front again, pressing her back in the bed. She following, yielding my every move. I lifted my leg over her head and straddling her face let my cock hang down for her. Fruit. She took me in entirely sucking on me, I didn't say anything, and let my torso extend down the length of her body, held my chest above her tummy. Turning my head down between her legs again, began to taste her again.
It was sweet, like honey. It was smooth and soft, the smell of blood and flesh. I licked and licked and licked. Felt her mouth on me and pumped my cock in her mouth, felt her body undulate beneath me, and we were this wave of water on each other. We were wind. We were the leaves of trees and a flock of birds. We were the movement of the clouds. It was all, there was nothing else.
I did not feel that I existed, or ceased to be. We could hear the clicks and slapping of our body, and we were covered with this sheen of moisture, of warm skin. Skin to skin. Hair and bone. The sound of her mouth sucking my cock, the sound of my tongue on her clit. My fingers in her, her little hands touching my balls. Our bodies sliding together, until I was cumming again, spraying. Exploding. I was crying out, and her body began to stiffen, she was trembling. She let me go, my seed was spraying on her now, across her neck and down her chest. She was cumming, and trembling beneath me. It was so strong, I could feel her lifting up as I pinned her there, held her there.
I slid off to the side of her, exhausted. Simply exhausted.
She didn't move, she stayed right where she was as I lay myself again beside her, began pulling the covers up. "No," she put her hand on mine. "Too sensitive."
She began to cry. "You alright?" I said, worried. This was too much.
"Oh, that was.....I never came twice. It....." And then she lay on her side for a little while, before scootching back into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and we folded our bodies together. It was like no part of us was not touching the other. We lay there naked, skin to skin. Her breathing was soft. I could tell she was awake. My cock lay in this little wet ball right at the bottom of her ass. She was holding my hand, and I had my other hand pressed down between her legs. She had one leg sandwiched between mine. It's just how we fell asleep that night, and so many like it. They were the same night.
*****************
This is a letter I got after my phone conversations with Eva. I was holding the light sheet of paper, turning it over in my trembling hands before I read:
Paul
You know what I want, as you knew what I wanted. What I want, is to be shown, taught, opened up.
No one seems to be willing to do this. Even now, I don't know. I am not sad anymore, that is gone, I'm happy even. But, there's this whole other person inside of me, the one that you at one time got to see, the one you've been talking to trying to get through to, screaming to be let out.
I don't let it, just like you didn't.....if things had been different. If you had been stupider then, who knows where we would be today. But you weren't, and now I'm not. So where does that leave us, I don't entirely know.
Christ. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'm crying now. But she is still there, and SHE is the one thanking you. The rest of it, we move into the light don't we. Go through the door and Paul, we weren't so good in the light. Lets just keep our memories, of us in the dark.
I miss then. I probably want more than anything, for you to know that. Thank you for then.