"How are you feeling?" He asks with a grin. But I can't even answer, I'm still too mindless and limp, as I just stare at him in a trance.
Time continues to pass. I don't know what to do now. What do I say to him? Do I thank him? What's next? Shit. I don't know what to do.
"Always thinking... relax, Sweetheart. We don't need to talk about this right now. We have time. We have forever to work you out." With another grin, he rubs his cheek against my hair, and exhales.
"Um... What about you? Ah, do you want to have sex now? It's fine. We can if you want to..." God, I'm going to die of embarrassment again.
Z leans over my body and looks into my eyes. "No. I'm in no need right now. There is always next time, and hopefully you’ll be able to relax easier next time we’re together.” NO?! “Oh, look at your face... always so sensitive and insecure. Of course, I want you- very badly in fact. But I would rather have you when you want to have me, not when you feel obligated to have me."
Smiling, Z bends and kisses me so tenderly, I feel confused and relieved. I feel suspended between what I have known, and what I now know.
"I should go then," I whisper, trying to look away from his intense stare.
Holding me in place, he whispers in return, "This isn't done, Sweetheart. I'm going to teach you and you’ll learn many pleasures. I will guide you, because you are mine to teach."
"No, Z. I am mine. But I WILL try to see you again, and I WILL try to relax if we see each other again."
“We’ll see each other again, Sweetheart… soon. Trust me.”
Rising from the bed, I close my blouse and straighten my skirt. My panties are still in my purse and I'm glad I don't have to suffer the embarrassment of looking for them.
Walking to the door, I turn to Z as he gracefully lifts from the bed. Stalking toward me, Z smiles and suddenly drops to the floor to replace my heels.
"I think you were running away without these babies last time," he says with a smirk.
Standing, Z takes my face in his hands and kisses me so gently, my heart feels it. I don't know what I feel, but sadness is buried deep in this moment. I like this feeling; it’s kind of hopeful… or something close to hopeful, anyway.
Pulling away from the kiss, Z smiles at me once again. "Drive safe, love. I will see you soon, and I will call you sooner... because you are mine, whether you believe it or not."
And before I can argue his statement, he quickly opens and pushes me out the door, laughing.
CHAPTER 11
OH MY GOD! What just happened?! Whatever it was, it was AWESOME! Well, the second part was awesome, the first part was… intense. But that was the best non-sex sex I've ever experienced. Running for my car, I jump in giggling. That was AMAZING!!
Almost back at the hotel, I realize I'm still driving with a ridiculous grin on my face. Jeez... other drivers seeing me must think I'm crazy. I don't care! That was great, and Z was amazing. I should call him. So dialing and smiling, I wait out the second ring.
"Hello, Sweetheart. How are you since I last saw you 15 minutes ago?" I can hear his smile-voice and I love it.
"I'm good. I, ah, just wanted to say thank you. I had a really nice time with you this afternoon." Oh! What if he didn't? Damn, my mood plummets. "Um, I don't expect anything, I just wanted to say thank you..." I'm so pathetic.
"Sweetheart, relax. I, too, had a very good time, once you relaxed a little. See? Isn't relaxation good for you?" Yes!
"Ah, yes. I'm glad I relaxed too.”
“I’m glad you had an orgasm as well, though it did take a little coercion from me. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Um… yes.” I’m blushing scarlet.
“Did you enjoy meeting with me? I’m sure you’re not used to the kind of sexuality I possess.”
“Um... yes.” Do I have any other words? “Should I call you later, or something, or just... um, never mind. I should go..." Christ! I’m such a pathetic loser!!
"Stop thinking, love. This is the awkward part, always. Everyone struggles with the 'what ifs' and the 'what now’s'. I'm not going anywhere, even when I return to New York. So breathe, Sweetheart. We’ll work this out. I'm going to pick you up in a few hours for dinner. Say 5:00?" Yes!
"Okay." Breathe. He's not going anywhere yet.
"One more thing, Sweetheart..." Here we go. What? What's wrong with me? "... I WAS right. Your eyes are absolutely beautiful when bright with pleasure, pupils dilated and lashes lowered. While glazed over with orgasm, your eyes are simply stunning." They are? YES!
“Oh, ah…thank you…” What do I say to that?
"I'll pick you up at your hotel at 5:00. So, you have 2 hours to stress yourself out, over-thinking, and over-analyzing, while dying of embarrassment. Okay?"
Laughing, I mutter, "Yeah, okay. I'm sure I will be. I'll see you at 5:00."
==========
Arriving at my hotel, I expect to see Marcus and my parents waiting for me in the hotel lobby. Have they somehow found me? Nope. I'm alone, but I won’t be in 2 hours. Yes! But as I make my way to my room, I’m nervous again. Could they have talked the staff into opening the doors for them? Likely not, but still, maybe? No. The room is booked by a Mr. Zinfandel. Let’s hope... Ha! I’m alone. No Marcus. No mother and father. No one. Just me, alone, waiting just under 2 hours for Z.
I wonder where we're going? What should I wear? Should I dress up? Probably. Z doesn't strike me as the McDonalds type. What will I wear? My black, of course, but what should I wear? Black slacks and blouse? A black skirt and blouse? A black dress? Yes. I'll wear my beautiful knee high black backless cocktail dress. This is so exciting!
I want to hop in the shower again to clean my body... for Z? I don't know. This is so strange. I have never felt this excited, even when Marcus and I began dating. Maybe because Marcus didn't ‘woo’ me, or even date me really. He knew my father, was introduced to me, and we began seeing each other mostly in the presence of my parents at all their friend's parties, banquets, the Country Club, and at various fund raisers.
When my phone rings I look nervously, but am thrilled to see its Z.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Sweetheart. I have a question, and I would like a thorough and honest answer." Oh, shit. I hate Z's questions.
"Okay..." Here we go.
"How did Marcus propose marriage to you?” Jesus Christ! How did he know I was just thinking about this?
"Um, honestly?"
"Yes. All of it. The truth please." Why does he always say that? I don't lie, not really.
"Well, Marcus didn't really propose to me. Isn't that strange? One day over brunch in January at my parent’s home, my mother began asking Marcus how many people he needed to invite to the wedding. Marcus pondered the question, while I looked back and forth at them confused because I didn’t know whose wedding they were talking about. Was Marcus getting married? I remember thinking I should be sad over this, shouldn’t I?" I exhale into the phone.
"Continue, please."
"Ah, then my mother announced that her tentative list held 525 people. Marcus looked at my father, not at me, and the two of them dramatically rolled their eyes, with my father saying to him, 'Welcome to the family son, be prepared for THIS tornado' as he smiled at my mother tenderly. Tsking, my mother threw her table linen at him, and all three burst out laughing." Oh, good times… As if! "At that point, I realized they were talking about my wedding."
Quietly, Z asks, "And how did that make you feel?"
"Um, I remember the feeling I had of complete and total detachment. I was looking at the three of them wondering, ‘am I even in the room? Do any of you even see me?‘ Marcus then leaned over to me, finally, but instead of proposing, he asked, 'I have at least 100 people, what about you, honey?’ and I just sat there staring at him. My mother piped up, 'Oh, her people are my people, so our number stands around 525'. And that was it. Nothing more was said to me... Oh, that's not true. Marcus and my mother did ask if the 12th of May 'worked for me?' I think I just nodded.
I don't really remember speaking."
God, that sounds terrible to me. I really am nameless and faceless to my parents and Marcus.
"Please don't retreat, Sweetheart... though I can imagine it’s difficult at the moment. I don't want you saddened. I was asking because I'm trying to set up my own loop-holes should you choose to end your marriage, which again I'll confess... I sincerely hope you do."
"Oh, I'm not sure what I'm doing anymore..." I whisper.
"Please, Sweetheart. I would like you to forget these questions, if you can, just for tonight. I'm picking you up in a little over an hour, and I can't stand to hear the sadness in your voice."
"I'm fine, Marcus. Don't worry about me."
"You are NOT fine, love. And I am NOT Marcus." Oh. What?
"I'm sorry? What did you say?" Shit. I feel so confused now.
"I'm on my way over now. I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay?"
"Okay... WAIT! No! I'm fine. Really, I'm okay. I'll see you at 5:00, okay?"
"Are you sure? I don't like hearing you this way. You sound... lost."
"I'll see you at 5:00, Z. No sooner, okay?" There that sounded less 'lost'.
"Okay. 5:00 it is. Please relax, Sweetheart. I'll see you soon."
==========
I should move. I know I should move, but it's too hard. This bed is very comfortable and warm… but after forever, I finally rise and head for the shower. In the bathroom, I disrobe and look in the mirror. There I am... naked. Ick.
If I could be objective which I can’t, I would admit that I'm probably not as bad as I think I am. From my neck up, I'm reasonably attractive. My hair is pretty, my lips are full and pouty, and my eyes are beautiful. But from the neck down, I'm... what? Voluptuous? Curvy? Shapely? How about, I'm not skinny, and I'm short.
My breasts are average, if not a little big. My stomach is flat-ish, but not at all toned. My waist is average, but my hips are too big for my height. And my butt really is too big for my body. It's... what? A booty? A J-Lo? Ha! I wish. No, my butt is just big, jiggly and seriously untoned. THIS leads to my thighs, which are pretty much the same as my butt. Marcus was right; I do have 'a big butt and thighs.' At least my calves are good, though. Strangely, they look muscular and toned. Thank you, high heels! So, when I wear a black knee high skirt with my calves showing, it’s actually kind of deceiving for the rest of my legs.
Ugh. I HATE being naked.
I hear my phone ringing in the bedroom. Nope, I’m not answering. If it’s Z, he'll understand. And if it's Marcus or my parents, they can piss off! I'm tired of them.
Once in the shower, with my hair piled high on my head, I quickly scrape a razor over my still smooth legs and armpits. Coating my body in my vanilla-jasmine body wash, I relax a little more. I love this scent. It's kind of flirty vanilla, and sensual jasmine. I always feel better after I apply the body wash and then follow it with the moisturizing lotion. Why am I obsessing about a vanilla-jasmine scent? There are many more important things to obsess over- like Marcus, or my parents... or Z.
Z is going to turn away from me soon, I know it. He is too intelligent a man, not to. What the hell would he be attracted to? I'm loopy this week. I'm going through... what? A separation? A mental break? A fit of rebellion? Panic-attacks and melo-drama do NOT make for an attractive woman.
Christ! Maybe I should just have sex with him. At least then I would know what it's like to have that kind of sex, before he moves on. And I'm sure he would be enough of a gentleman to wait a few days afterward, before lecturing me on the difficulties of seeing me right now. We would both know he meant not so much ‘right now’ as more of a ‘never again'. Well, I would know. I always know. But at least Z would probably word his absence as I generic, blameless ‘life just got in the way’ kind of thing. At least I hope he would. I don’t think I could handle any more blatant rejection in my life right now.
Then again, maybe we'll have sex and it will be terrible. Actually it WILL be terrible naturally, and I’ll die of embarrassment, and he’ll be wretchedly disappointed in the sex AND in me, and then he’ll move on. So, essentially I’ll still be rejected but then I’ll have another example of my sexual incompetence to further destroy me. Marcus and Z... two men I will have disappointed sexually. God, I think I’m going to throw up.
Okay... problem solved. I can’t do it. I really shouldn't be feeling anything for him anyway. I'm still married, whether I like it or not. I'm still 'not-skinny' whether I like it or not. And I'm still just me, whether I like it or not.
I have nothing to offer him. I have nothing to give him. I am nothing. There is nothing he would want from me. I am SUCH a loser.
God, I am so tired...
CHAPTER 12
Looking, I see Z has entered the bathroom with another man. What the hell? Is this going to be a ménage scenario? I know I'm definitely NOT ready for THAT. Ha! I start laughing. Me in a ménage? Two men to disappoint AT ONCE? How embarrassing.
Turning, Z says something to the man, and the man nods, looks at me once more, and leaves the bathroom. What the hell? Am I that gross? God, I'm so cold. Slowly, Z walks toward me, with his hands outstretched. Closer to me, Z kneels on the floor beside the tub, while resting his forearms on the edge.
He is so handsome. I would love to look at him forever, and though that's not an option… a girl can dream. The thought of staring at him forever has actually warmed me a little.
"Hi, Sweetheart, how are you?"
Smiling at him, I reach my hands out to touch his handsome face. "I'm good. You're early though."
"Yes. I couldn't wait to see you. Would you like to get out of here now? You're a little cold, and I don't want you sick." That is SO sweet.
"You're so kind, Z… it's weird. Ooops that sounded rude. Sorry."
"No worries. I can see how a man being kind to you, would seem weird.... Can I get you a towel?"
"You’re very handsome, Z. You must hear that all the time, huh?"
"Thank you, Sweetheart. But you're the only one I like to hear that from."
"Uh huh. I bet all the women you know are totally in love with you. I wish I could be, but I can't. Ooops, that was rude, too. I'm really sorry Z. I'm just going to stop speaking, okay?" God, I'm so mean, and rude, and bad. "I'm sorry I'm so bad, Z. I try, I really do. I HATE being bad, but I have all this stuff that wants to come out, and I can't really stop it, and it's bad. And I'm bad."
Z stands to leave. Oh god he's leaving me already!
"I'm sorry! Please don't go!! I promise I won't say anything else. We can have sex... if you want!" God, I'm such a whore- such a desperate whore!
Walking back toward me with a smile, Z holds a towel out motioning for me to get in it. Okay. I am kind of cold. He hasn't said anything about my offer. Maybe, he really doesn't want to have sex with me. I thought all men wanted sex, with anyone, anytime.
Standing, I suddenly see myself in the mirror. SHIT! I'm NAKED! Jumping back, I smash the middle of my spine into the metal shampoo shelf in the shower. CHRIST! It hurts! My entire back screams in red-hot agony, as my knees buckle.
OH MY GOD! The pain is shocking. I vaguely hear Z swearing and staggering to pick me up, but I really can't hear him over the pain ringing in my ears. I’ve never realized before that pain can make a sound in your ears. That’s actually kind of cool.
Inside the shower stall, Z wraps me up tight in a huge towel, and it feels so good, I can't help but lean into his arms. He’s so warm, and so nice and kind. And he’s so handsome. Why isn't he with anyone? Oh. Maybe he is. Dammit.
"Are you married, engaged, or otherwise committed to someone?" There. I think I covered everything. Holy shit! My back is killing me.
"No, Sweetheart, I don't cheat. It's not my style to cheat," Z says, as we enter the bedroom.
"Really? I thought all men cheated with anyone, at any time? Whenever and wherever with whomever?"
"I don't know about other men, but that is certainly not true of me." Huh. That’s reassuring
.
Oh, but I'm a cheater now. Dammit. I let him do stuff to me today. Shit. I’m a whore.
"I'm sorry I let you do that stuff today, to a married woman. I didn't mean to be bad." I feel like crying.
Z sits me on the bed, and makes his way behind me. Lowering my towel slightly, I feel him touching my spine. Flinching, I try to be still, I really do, but I can't help moving. The pain is excruciating. I hear sounds coming from my mouth, like whimpers.
"I'm sorry..." I whisper between pain-filled breaths.
"For what?!" He asks, sounding almost offended.
"Well, for many things, but especially for moving right now, when you're doing whatever you're doing to my back, but I can't help it. My back hurts very, very badly. And I’m sorry also for talking about sex, for, um... being a whore. I'm sorry for that. You don't have to say anything, I know how you feel, and I don't blame you. I just really don't want to hear you tell me no, okay? I much prefer your silence on the subject, cause it's easier for me to handle." I wish I was dead right now. This is awful. At least my back is toward him so I can't see the pity on his face.
I feel Z take a large inhale, and as he exhales, I feel his body shaking slightly. "Sweetheart, you’re going to have a very bad, very large bruise on your spine, and I'm trying to access whether there is any nerve damage, so of course it's going to hurt you. Actually, I'm really, really glad it hurts. The alternative would be horrendous for us both. I can’t stand the thought of you physically hurt." There’s another deep inhale and loud exhale for Z. This isn't going to be good, I can feel it.
“As for your second apology, I have to fight myself not to have sex with you at such an inappropriate time. You are not well, Sweetheart. I'm not sure if you’re even aware of your surroundings at the moment, but if you were fully here with me, I would have already had sex with you, if you would have allowed me the pleasure," And another deep exhale. "But you are NOT fully here, and it would be grossly inappropriate for me to be with you at such a time. That’s why I’m silent. Not because I don't want you and NOT because I think you are a whore." Oh. That's good then.