IN TOO DEEP
CHAPTER 18
CHRISTIAN POINT OF VIEW
The drive home is every bit as silent and awkward as I had feared it would be.
I feel torn and split between 2 emotional extremes as I drive, cautiously watching forward ahead of the road while Ana sits beside me in the passenger's seat. I honestly wasn't expecting us to get to this point; I never expected it to happen, yet it did.
1 part of me feels in a permanent state of shock and confusion while the other, the secret side of me that I find myself terrified to show and bring to the surface, it's...ecstatic, incredibly happy.
I honestly hadn't taken her out on The Grace for this. It hadn't been my intention for it to go the way it did, to get as far as it even did. Yet it did and there she was; There she was, asking it of me. Telling me that she was 17, 18 soon, and that she wanted to experience her 1st time with me of all people.
I've sensed for a while now that she has something of a little crush on me. I just never expected us to go this far, that I would even allow it to go as far as it did. But I had and ultimately, I can't take it back. I don't have the power within me to take it back and, if I were completely honest here, I probably wouldn't want to take it back even if I could.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Anastasia look at me. Then helping herself, she reaches forward to turn up the nozzle on the stereo so Eva Cassidy's music plays between us even louder. I'm glad that she does decide to turn the music up, because this silence, this... awkwardness shared between us, it's destroying me.
I can feel myself perspiring between my shirt, practically sweating bullets as I let myself peer into her direction. She meets my gaze with her clear blue eyes and I force myself to smile at her before having to break the eye-contact between us again.
Sighing loudly through Eva's melodic voice, I move a hand from the steering wheel to rake it through my hair. She clearly expects something of me; For me to say something, something that indirectly hints to what occurred between us in The Grace roughly half an hour ago. Yet I find myself unsure what to say or how to even begin to speak about it.
Do I thank her for the amazing opportunity? Do I even express my humble gratitude that she- this beautiful, gorgeous thing- felt apparently attracted to me enough to grant me the opportunity of being her 1st? My eyes drift to her again as she stares outside the window, looking at the view around us pensively. She plays with her hands in her lap. Frankly I'm not sure whether to get down on my knees to her feet and worship her.
Instead I turn my eyes forward to the road again. I don't want to seem overeager to put her off and make her feel uncomfortable in anyway, of course. And I don't want to seem overly pleased in case she starts fearing I've assumed that this means something more, that I... expect more from her.
I know things were far different back when I was her age, whereas nowadays I see that sex is treated as more casual and less meaningful.
I overhear a lot of things, thanks to having a young teenage daughter of a different generation; Hook-ups and flings are something that happen all the time. Sex doesn't mean that the 2 people involved will ultimately end up having a loving committed relationship with each other.
So what if it's the same with Ana- her being from this generation and having far different ideas about sex or relationships than I do?
I just don't want to act too enthusiastic about it, out of fear that she'll end up feeling pressured and she'd think I was implying that I expected something more from her than what it probably only was for her.
What had she told me it was? Something similar to an early birthday gift for her; A mere new experience, something to remember, a memory to add to the new ones she'll eventually have once she begins her new life at college
My 1st time was with my wife, where it was her 1st time as well. We both were inexperienced and went through it all together; All that vulnerability and uncertainty.
It's a sensitive and complex thing; something I'm unsure of how to approach. But then I see out of the corner of my eye Anastasia reach over to turn the music down slightly. And then she finally speaks.
"Thank you for today," she says, and I turn my head to look at her while scratching my chin.
I can't tell whether she's thanking me for the trip out on The Grace, the lunch and the swim, or whether she's simply... thanking me for what we actually did together and the experience we had given each other.
"As I said before, it was my pleasure." I can't be sure which it is, so I add uncertainly beneath my breath, "I really enjoyed it myself."
And I honestly had; Both, spending the day with her on the boat eating lunch, talking, swimming. And the whole other side of it also. When I meet her blue eyes with another smile, I realize I can't quite look at her in the same way that I did before.
Instinctively rather than seeing her beautiful infectious big smile, her perceptiveness and her gorgeous bright eyes, I start to see, appreciate and remember... other things automatically as well. Like how soft, smooth, and flawless every part of her ivory skin was while I had touched and kissed her. Even the parts you'd expect to be rather rough, like her elbows and her knees, they had been incredibly smooth as well. How radiant and youthful she was.
How... receptive to my touch and my mouth she was. The little peaks of her nipples, how they had hardened and stiffened beneath my lips as I kissed each one of them. Now as I look at her, I don't just see all those admirable qualities about her, such as her curiosity for the music I like, her interest and her perceptiveness. But I see the larger picture as well; How she looks, how she feels. And it's all beautiful.
And she's my daughter's friend, I crossed that one solid fatal line, and it's all so fucked up. And I'm probably the biggest scumbag on earth for agreeing to what I did when I ought to have known better.
I know nothing more can ever come out of this and I wouldn't expect it to. It wouldn't be fair for her. She's young and she's got her whole life ahead of her to live. She has so many amazing opportunities and experiences in store for her. I don't expect this to be anything more than what she no doubt meant it as.
"Me, too. I really enjoyed today too."
Did you really? I want to ask her out loud. Are you sure that you did?
I think I hear her mutter something to herself, only it's something so quiet it's barely audible. I turn to look at her again, arching my eyebrows in question.
"I just said that I..." She licks her lips slowly before glancing down at her hands, interlinking her fingers together. "I wasn't expecting this to be as... awkward as it is." Awkward is certainly a good way to put it. "You just feel really... cold to me."
Cold? My breath hitches in my throat at that word. Cold. I feel cold to her? "How so?" I ask in confusion.
"I don't know. It's just you..." I notice she won't look at me. She keeps her head low, her eyes on nothing else but her fingers as she plays with them. "It sort of feels like you regret what happened. After."
I'm speechless for a good minute with not knowing what to say. I hadn't expected her to say that. Do I really seem as though I regret it to her? What we did? On second thought, I realize I can't really blame her for getting that suspicion. I had kept my distance afterwards on the boat, but not because I regretted it. I only simply wasn't sure what she wanted.
"I'm sorry that I made you feel like I regret it. I don't."
Finally, she turns her head to look at me, her eyes shining, dubious. "You don't regret it?" She sounds like she doesn't believe me.
"I really don't, Ana."
It appears I'll have to try make myself more convincing for her.
I try to hold her gaze to show her how truthful I'm being, only it's hard. She drops her gaze again to her hands while licking her lips, her tongue peeking through them. "Well, I do regret the circumstances but... not what happened. Not what we actually did."
"The circumstances?"
"Yes, the circumstances. That you are..." I hesitate, glancing back to the road ahead of us quickly, making sure we are on the right track. "That you are my daughter's friend and that..." I trail off with a frustrated sigh, unsure how to voice it. "I honestly didn't mean to come across as cold to you. I just... I suppose I decided it would be easier for you if I did keep my distance."
Her eyes light up with what seems curiosity as she turns her head to look at me, "Easier for me?"
"Well, you know..." Now I'm the one that actually has to fucking turn away and avoid looking at her. Awkward is definitely the fitting term for this, all right. "I just know that nowadays, that sort of thing means a lot more different than what it used to. I didn't want to make you feel... uncomfortable or as though I was expecting too much."
When I throw a look her way again quickly, I notice she's staring at me, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I don't think she quite understands what I mean.
Frankly I'm relieved now that she's finally began to speak up about it. I didn't want to be the 1 to have to in case she wanted to forget it and never bring it up ever again. "So, are you... all right?" I ask gently, hoping she gets the drift of what I'm asking. We hadn't specifically spoken about it before, in The Grace. But now that we are doing this and we are on the topic, I truly do want to know.
I think I see her cheeks spread with a glorious pinkness as she glanced down at her fingers again nervously. She looks like she's trying to hold in a shy smile; I can see it in the way she presses her lips tightly together, the left corner of them twitching.
"Um, I think so," she manages to say in a low, breathy voice. "I'm feeling pretty... good."
"And I didn't hurt you too much then?"
She blushes again as a short laugh escapes her at the knowledge of my true meaning. "You didn't. I mean, it didn't really..." She stops for a moment, closing her eyes. Then trying to appear dignified and no longer embarrassed, she straightens up in the seat, forcing herself to meet my gaze as her eyes reopen, "It didn't actually hurt as much as I'd always suspected it would, the 1st time. I mean, you..." She stops again while covering a hand over the side of her mouth. To stop herself from laughing again, I think. It's incredibly endearing, not to mention adorable of her. "You were very... gentle."
"So you, er, had a good time then?" I ask her, just to be sure. I mainly just want to make sure that she did.
She slips up, bursting out laughing. It's one of her infectious laughs as she covers her mouth with her hands, and I can't help laughing along with her, everything feeling better now and less.. stressful.
ANASTASIA POINT OF VIEW
"So you, er, had a good time then?" Christian asks, a nervous and uncertain edge still there in his voice.
I crack up laughing, my nerves taking over again. I have to say I'm so relieved that we are finally talking about this- and that he is. Just like that, he doesn't feel so distant or cold anymore, as if I'd done something wrong or it was like he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore.
Instantly the mood lightens up in the car, something I'm grateful for. And then he chuckles as well; one of those spine-tingling sounds that I like so much. It makes a horrible heat rush all over my skin as I try to stop myself from squirming.
"I did have a really good time." Even my stomach squirms as I look over and catch him trying not to smile himself. "Did, um, you?" Suddenly I'm concerned that he didn't have a good time himself.
"I did, though... I figure that was probably obvious," he murmurs.
"I was really nervous," I admit shyly. "You could probably tell how nervous I was."
"Not at all. You had nothing to be nervous about anyway."
Now that that awkward part of it is out of the way, we seem to fall into easier conversation. I discover he has a stack of CD's in the console of his car, and he lets me go through them while he continues driving.
"So you like The Rolling Stones too?" I murmur, eyeing the cover of one of their albums off. He has so many CD's, it's amazing.
"I do. They're not my favorite, because that spot is reserved to Frank, of course. But they are a favorite."
"Mine too," I agree breathlessly.
"I actually got to see them play live in concert once," Christian admits, and I feel my awe for this man increase tenfold.
"You did?" I gush with wide eyes. "You are so lucky then!"
"Yeah, I did. I believe this was about... 8 or 9 years ago." As always, I feel like I could listen to the man talk all day, about anything. He's just so interesting to me in so many ways. And incredibly gorgeous, too, of course. Interesting and gorgeous and the man I just experienced my 1st time with... I shake my head while trying to focus on what he's telling me, overwhelmed. "They were incredible live."
"I bet they were. I hear Mick Jagger gets very enthusiastic?"
"Enthusiastic is definitely 1 good way to describe it." Then he's off, describing it to me in very vivid detail the atmosphere and how crowded it was in the building where he saw them play. I can't help hanging off his every word, noticing the way his gray eyes light up with enthusiasm over the topic as he uses his hand, gesturing to me. Those same hands that were on my bare skin earlier... "The charisma rolling off him was incredible," he finishes, staring into my eyes.
"I'm so jealous that you got to see him and The Stones," I murmur.
"Well, don't worry. They're still around." He cocks his head slightly as he smiles at me in a soft, empathetic way. "Hopefully you'll get the same chance to see them live 1 day. And then you can see what I meant and you can tell me all about it."
"I would love that." I realize it's so easy, us talking about music and all of these other things. Being older, I suppose he's had more chance than I have to get around and truly experience things like seeing The Rolling Stones live concerts. I guess it comes with age and life experience. "Sometimes I truly feel like I was born in the wrong time and era," I continue, off on my own little rant. But it's true; I really do. "Like I love The Rolling Stones and now, thanks to you introducing him to me, Frank Sinatra. I love all of these classic bands whereas other music today, it just doesn't really appeal to me as much."
"Then you have better taste than Kate has," he says, then he winces. "No offense to her, of course. I just find it so hard to... expand her musical tastes. She just refuses to be expanded."
Conversation turns to other music, and then I notice he's not going the way to the house where he and Kate lives. I look around, noticing he's taking a different route.
"Aren't you going the wrong way?" I murmur suspiciously in confusion, eyeing him.
The glance he throws at me is what I can only describe as very secretive. There's something he's wanting to hide and keep secret from me. "You'll find out soon enough," he simply says evasively.
He takes a right turn, then sets the blinkers on, pulling up on the side of the road. I glance around the car while biting down on my lip, still unsure what his intentions are, my stomach in knots. Nothing looks familiar.
"Where are we?" I ask when he unbuckles and throws off his seat belt.
He just turns to look at me with a very secretive smile and a shrug. "As I said, you'll see soon enough." He grabs his wallet and opens his door. "Wait here. I'll be back in a minute."
I watch as he shuts the door, then he hurries off, disappearing down the corner of the street he parked in. What is he up to? I find out roughly 15 minutes later when he reappears around the corner carrying a plastic bag of something. He still looks weirdly suspicious as he opens the door on his side, a smile in place on his mouth.
"What do you have there?" I ask curiously, but then my curiosity is immediately killed the second he gets me to hold the plastic bag in my lap. The delicious smell of Chinese food assaults my senses as I peer at his face while he slams the door shut again. "Is that Chinese food I smell?" I tease, then I peer into the bag once I get his permission.
I'm actually right. It is Chinese food, still warm and freshly cooked in two takeaway containers. The smell is heavenly and my mouth waters.
"You said last night that Chinese food was 1 of your favorite smells," he explains with a chuckle while starting up the car.
I grin over at him as he pulls back out onto the road, my cheeks hurting. I did say that and he remembered! He actually remembered me confessing that Chinese food was my favorite smell!
"You remembered me telling you that," I whisper, surprised.
"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I remember?" Christian glances in my direction quickly with a shake of his head. "I may be old but I'm not that old yet that I forget things that someone tells me the night before." I know he's saying the last bit about being 'old' as mainly a joke but I still gasp in shock.
"I wasn't meaning to imply that I thought you wouldn't remember because you are older."
"I know that. I was just fooling around."
I breathe the delicious smell in again as he begins to drive us back to the house. Although we've already eaten lunch on his boat earlier, I find myself starting to become ravenous by the time he reaches the house and he slowly pulls us up into the driveway and garage. I think the smell has something to do with that though.
Later that night we end up sitting on the pine table and wooden chair setting on the balcony, eating the Chinese take-out Christian got from the takeaway shop earlier in white porcelain bowls each with forks- a little hint to me as him remembering it being my favorite smell in the whole entire world, I think.
We both have our chairs angled so that we can watch out into the street and at the amazing view from his and Kate's house. It's gotten darker, the sky filled with stars. It has turned out to be a really nice, mild night.
I can't get over how nice today has been. The boat ride out on The Grace, eating lunch with him. Then taking a quick swim and, especially, all that other really nice love-making stuff. I can't really remember feeling this happy before. I certainly don't feel this happy and paid-attention to at home with my Mom.
I feel a hint of sadness too because I know tomorrow I'll have to be heading back home, seeing as Kate will be arriving back from her mother's. I can't exactly still be here with her father when she arrives back, can I?
"So why Chinese food exactly?" Christian asks, breaking me out of my silence as I eat a piece of watercress. "Why is Chinese food your favorite smell?"
I smile into my bowl as I chew slowly, thinking his very difficult question through. "I don't exactly have an answer to that," I admit. "I just have always loved the smell of Chinese food. I guess that makes me weird."
"It's not weird at all. Do you think your mother will come to your high school graduation?" The way he throws my Mom into this so quickly, it takes me by surprise.
"Um, I'm not sure if she'll come," I say quietly. But even as I say it, I know that isn't even entirely true. I already have an idea of what will be happening when the day comes to finally graduate high school; It is only another week away, my birthday being in a few days. I know she'll probably be too busy to come and that's something I've learned now to not get so personally upset about. I'm used to my Mom flaking out on me. "I'm not holding my breath though."
I glance up to find Christian staring at me thoughtfully as he chews. There's also a bit of concern there in his gray eyes as well, I think.
"My Mom has never made it her top priority to attend things to do with me," I add with a careless shrug. "It's always been that way. I think I've gotten used to it."
"Well, she should be there for her daughter."
I shrug again, not fussed either way. "She used to do it to me when I was younger as well. She'd either forget something I mentioned or she just wouldn't bother. I've learned not to let it upset me anymore." I glance up at the sky while pushing some noodles into my mouth. That's when I see it. I make a meaningful moaning noise as I lean over, grabbing Christian's attention quickly. A luminescent shooting star runs then fades across the sky into the distance. "Look up there!" I say, pointing. Only it's too late. "Damn, it's gone now."
"What was it?" Christian asks in confusion.
"A shooting star. It was really pretty, too."
"Better close your eyes then."
I turn to look at him in confusion, unsure whether he's making a joke or not. But then I discover he looks deadly serious as he peers up at the sky, watchful to see another one with his own eyes himself. "Why close my eyes?"
"They say that whenever you see a shooting star, you should always close your eyes and make a wish," he explains to me, swallowing a mouthful of his food.
"Make a wish? I've never heard that one before?"
"Well, now you have, Ana. Close them." Obeying even although it feels stupid, I clench my eyes shut with a smile. "Quick. Now make a wish."
I breathe in deeply through my nose, making my wish. My cheeks feel too warm and I feel ridiculously coy and stupid as I think it to myself in my mind. I know it's a silly wish.
When I slowly reopen my eyes and glance over at him, I see Christian's watching me very attentively as he picks up eating again, his eyes bright. "What did you wish for?" he asks softly, his voice curious.
"I can't tell you."
"Oh?" He seems offended but I can't tell if it's sincere or not. "And why can't you?"
"Because isn't that what they always say about wishes? That if you tell someone it won't come true?"
He nods once at my words with a thoughtful moan. "I suppose that is true." He stops chewing, swallowing slowly as he eyes me carefully. He must really want to know. I can tell he does. "I still want to know though," he adds after a moment, rather guiltily.
"Yeah, and you can tell that you do," I mutter with a laugh. "But I really can't say it out loud." I really don't want to tell him. It's too mortifying and I'm not so sure I have any bravery left after this morning on The Grace with what I requested and, surprisingly finally got. "It's too embarrassing to speak out loud."
"Embarrassing?" I suddenly wish I hadn't said that when Christian focuses on me extra intently with both eyebrows raised. "Well, now I'm definitely intrigued."
"I can't," I say again, squirming beneath his gaze. "Please don't make me have to say it." And then he chuckles softly at my reaction, making my squirming grow even more wild.
I really do need to stop loving everything this man does so much. Eating, sucking food off his fingertips, laughing- everything he does gets to me unlike no other, I swear.
"I have an idea then," he says, and he suddenly rises from the chair and places his still half-full bowl of Chinese take-out on the table.
I stare after him nervously as he heads back inside, disappearing for a moment. My mind is still made up though. I'm really not so sure I want him to know. He returns a minute later holding 2 small things in his hands. When he comes closer, I see it's a pen and a piece of ripped-off paper from a notepad.
"If you can't say it out loud, write it down then," he says, placing the pen and paper in front of me at the table.
"You really want to ruin my wish and make it not come true, don't you?" I murmur, shocked by his persistence.
He falls back down into the chair next to me while reaching forward to grab his bowl again, picking up his fork. I can tell he's trying not to smile as he starts scooping up some noodles on his fork. "Like I said, I'm intrigued," he mutters with humor, then he shovels the noodles into his mouth hungrily, eyes still on me.
Obviously he isn't going to give in anytime soon. Sighing, I give in, grabbing both the pen and the paper. I write my wish down as neatly as possible, then I fold it up- a tiny little note.
I feel like this is a new method of torture as Christian takes the small piece of paper from me, acting far too gleeful than what I was expecting him to. Dropping his bowl back onto the table, he starts peeling it open carefully with his fingers, the corners of his mouth curled with the ghost of a smile.
CHRISTIAN POINT OF VIEW
I was enjoying this far more than I thought I would. There's something addictive about making Anastasia squirm, something enjoyable. And I'd honestly be full of shit too if I didn't admit to myself that it was utterly, utterly adorable of her.
I prolong the moment deliberately, flickering my eyes up to her on the chair while peeling the folded strip of paper back carefully with my fingers, being careful not to tear it. Once I finally get it all the way open, Anastasia wobbles in the chair as she reaches out to grab her bowl of Chinese food, her embarrassment over what she's wished for achingly palpable.
I bet I know what it is already. Something 'embarrassing', as she said? Maybe she wishes to go to a nudist resort one day? I chuckle out loud at the thought.
"Look at you," I murmur, fascinated by her reaction as she reaches up with her hand, covering the half of her face so that I can't see her anymore. "You look so nervous."
Finally putting her out of her misery, I squint to read her writing, holding the piece of paper. And once it sinks in, what she's written, I feel my mouth go dry, my heart rate increasing and pounding in my chest.
I wish for what happened in the bed on The Grace to happen again.
My mouth drops open as the blood seems to be exsanguinated from my entire body. Fuck me. I wasn't quite expecting this to be her wish.
"So that's your wish?" I ask, feeling winded. "This is what you want?" Like earlier on today, I need to completely sure that it's one hundred percent completely what she wants. I couldn't live with myself otherwise.
When she doesn't move her hand from her face, I reach over, grabbing onto her slender wrist gently, wrapping my fingers around it. I pull her hand down so that she can't keep hiding herself from me no matter how shy she feels about it, stroking around her wrist with my fingers.
"Again?" I ask softly, trying to stare deeply into her eyes. I try to work out her facial expression in the almost-darkness, trying to read if she truly does want this. It's next to impossible. "Ana, if you want to again, you need to be completely honest here with me and say it," I say, trying to encourage her out of her shyness. I still can't believe what I've just read.
Of all the things she could wish for, that's it. But who am I kidding? Terrible and wrong as it no doubt it, I want it too. Again.
"Yes," she finally answers, biting her lip. "Yeah, I... I want it again."
I should say no, we shouldn't. For her sake, and for my daughters sake, of course. But there's something about her, something that has made me completely forgo all of my senses and all propriety. My daughter would never forgive me for this. I am a terrible father- a fuck-up no doubt. Fuck, I'm not even so sure that I like myself or that I'd ever want to be forgiven for this. But there's an attraction there, undeniable. It pulls me to her in ways I haven't felt in such a long, long time.
Sliding off the chair, I sink down to my knees below her, holding myself upright between her legs while still clinging and touching her wrist. She can't avoid me now, not when I position myself so close to her. She at last lifts her eyes to meet mine, anxiety and something similar to embarrassment in them. She still has her teeth sinking down into that bottom lip of hers.
"Come on," I breathe, standing up from my knees. My hand still around her wrist, I help her up from the chair carefully, showing her the way from the balcony straight back into the house.
She follows me willingly, until she reaches over with her other hand. To stop me, I assume. Perhaps she has better sense than I do?
Only I've misjudged her intentions, I realize. Her hand, rather instead of pulling me away, grasps onto the neck and collar of my polo shirt. And then she's leaning up on her tiptoes as she draws me in. And then her mouth is on mine, soft and warm, kissing me.
Reaching up, I hold the back of her head in my hand as I return her kiss, sucking in her shaky exhales through my own lips.
I have a deep responsibility and I was aware of that earlier on The Grace when I agreed to do what she asked of me. I loathe the thought of ruining this for her, I have to approach and tread carefully. This is a young girl's heart at stake here, I can't let her get hurt otherwise I may ruin her forever.
As for myself, well, I'm fairly confident that I'm a big boy. I know what it's like to love someone, only to not be good enough, to have them leave and settle with someone else. I'll be just fine. It's her heart and having to tread delicately that concerns me.
As I mold my lips to hers, I have an overwhelming need to touch her, to brush my hands against her everywhere. Releasing her head, I reach up with both hands until they're resting on her shoulders. Then I let them drop down her body slowly, touching her, caressing her own smooth skin and down the outline of the fabric of her shirt with my weathered hands.
"You are sure?" I murmur against her lips again, hearing her own response against mine as I glide my hands on the opposite path I had taken them, up this time; Up her bare arms, up her neck, over her ears, into her dark hair.
We don't even end up making it to my bedroom.
We tread blindly through the house, hardly caring about our surroundings. All there seems to be is her and me- and our lips and hands as we continue kissing, and I continue touching her, holding her.
I sink to the floor and she comes with me, and considering how soft the floor is beneath my knees, all I know is that we've found ourselves in the living room somehow. One of Ana's hands find my hair while the other caresses my cheek as she lays herself down length ways on the carpet.
Her fingers are still in my hair, fingers twisting, grasping, as I stop kissing her. I became aware of her uneven, heavy breathing as I move down, kissing around her throat, her collarbone, nuzzling into her skin with the tip of my nose, inhaling her in. She smells so incredibly good. I'd noticed that earlier even in the cabin. She smells amazing.
Lowering my hand, I locate the bottom of her shirt as I continue kissing her through the material of it. I feel her breasts and the fabric of her bra straining through the shirt as she breathes deeply, shallowly.
Finally, I push the bottom of her shirt up over the smooth, baby-soft planes of her belly, brushing my hand up over her rib-cage. Then I bend down, starting with my lips instead. I rub the bottom of my chin up against her flesh so she can feel the sensation of my stubble against her, and she inhales sharply, her fingers tightening into the strands of my hair.
"I meant what I said earlier on today." My voice is husky as I kiss my way up to where her bra starts and using my hand, I lean behind her, unclasping it open with my thumb.
She gasps as her bra flings off so that her gorgeous breasts are bared. I know she's particularly sensitive about them ad insecure, I'd felt it earlier on today. But Ana really has no need to be. When I sense her wanting to move her arm, to lift it up and cover her breasts from me, I stop her, holding her arm still while allowing her fingers to remain in my hair, finding her eyes with mine.
"Don't cover yourself, sweetheart," I whisper, peering into her eyes as they shine down at me. She looks so vulnerable, so sweet, lying back on the carpet, the long strands of her hair floating around her. She looks almost angelic. "You are so beautiful, everything about you. And I meant that when I said it earlier on today. You have absolutely nothing to be shy about."
I still get a lingering hint of where her minds at when she sinks her front teeth slowly down into that lower lip of hers again, doubt and worried disbelief gleaming in her blue eyes at my words. As I let my eyes drop to her breasts, admiring how round they are, how decently and perfectly sized, I feel her arm strain against my hold in her same protective measure to cover herself up again out of embarrassment.
"I... I don't know," she mutters, her voice barely audible. Her chin dips marginally as she tries to glance at her breasts herself. "I've never really felt-"
"- Jesus, Anastasia," I murmur incredulously, shaking my head. Her eyes narrow as she stares deeply into mine, doubt still in them. "Your big, beautiful smile. Everything about you. You are such a heart breaker," I breathe earnestly, meaning it with all my heart. "You are going to break so many hearts out there in the world."
Shifting over, I lie beside her on the carpet on my side and her head follows me, watching me as I lay right next to her. Watching her reaction, I reach over, gently cupping one of her breasts in a hand. Her eyes widen and she licks her lips, her breathing getting louder.
"See? These are so beautiful," I tell her, running my thumb gently over her nipple. "Everything about you is. Never doubt that." I hear her swallow loudly as her eyes remain on nothing else but my face while I touch her, caressing her breasts, paying what is clearly her most biggest insecurity attention.
Just to see what she'll do, I lean down towards her other breast, opening my mouth. I blow warm air onto her nipple, and it hardens as she shivers, her back arching on the carpet. Just as I'd hoped for, I'm rewarded with a breathless, short laugh.
"Especially that," I mutter, unable to not smile in response to her infectious laughter. I swear. There is something about her laugh that gets me every time. "Especially that laugh, Anastasia."
Reaching for me with her hand, she cups the back of my neck, pulling me in, over her. I lean over her on my elbows, legs between hers, as we kiss again, her lips fast, urgent, against mine. And then she surprises me when I feel her other hand gliding down between us, down past my shirt, in between my thighs. She swivels and brings her hand up, cupping me with her fingers through the fabric of my jeans, and I can't help bucking and gasping against her mouth.
Years. I haven't been touched like this for years. It startles me.
"You are so..." I pant against her lips, marveling in her, my breath hitching in my throat. "You are so full of life, you have..." I grunt as I feel myself harden, my balls uncontrollably tight, my cock straining against the seam of my trousers as she resumes fondling me through them. "You have so much... life ahead of you."
I can't take it anymore. I really don't think I can. And clearly can she.
"Please," she begs finally, her voice low, desperate. A cry. "Please... now."
Moving my mouth from hers and shifting down between her legs, I wrench off her trousers as she pants desperately. She aids me, helping lift up her hips and her pelvis to make removing her underwear easier. Then both of her hands find the front of my trousers again as I move between her legs. She's a shaky, unsteady little thing, her fingers. She fumbles to pull down my zipper and undo the button and then I help her, yanking down my jeans past my thighs.
"Now," she pants again, and I lean back over her, pressing my mouth to hers while I reach down, guiding myself towards her. First stroke of my head I feel, just my luck, she's already fully wet and throbbing. A needy cry escapes her mouth into mine as I position myself into her, and then I slowly push. Gentle, ever so gentle.
One of her hands is buried inside my hair again as she reaches around, grasping the back of my shirt, clinging onto me as I bury myself inside of her. Just like earlier on, she's so warm, so moist.
"G-god," she whispers, pulling her head back. She leans it back against the carpet, her eyes flying up to meet mine from where I remain, inside of her, holding myself up above her, our faces inches away. "It... it feels different than I, um, I... I thought it would." Her voice is strained and trembling, her pupils dilated, overriding the blue irises of her eyes as she breathes up at me.
"Are you... are you sore?" I ask her, my voice hoarse, concerned. I'd made sure I was extra gentle earlier, same as now. Hurting her and making her uncomfortable, it is the very last thing I want to do.
But she feels so good. With me, inside her, closed around her walls, it's so good. So warm.
"N-no, not sore," she breathes, shaking her head briskly once, her hair falling and tossing around her. "But it..." I can tell she's overwhelmed, like she probably was the 1st time, trying to get accustomed to all of these strange sensations, all of these feelings. Oh, the strangeness of sex and the human body. I recall being puzzled by it myself as a kid. "It doesn't hurt as much or f-felt like I thought it would." She's breathing laboriously, her fingers rapidly bunching short strands of my hair at the back of my head into tufts. "I, um, I like it." She licks her lips as she stares up into my eyes deeply, a frown marring her forehead. "I... I like it more than I thought."
"Then that's good, isn't it? You are meant to like it."
I move back slowly, then thrust gently back into her. Her head tips back as she stares into my ears, a low cry escaping her.
"You still okay?" I ask her.
She nods her head, not only once, but three times to reassure me. Then we start to move in earnest.
The feeling... I'd learned earlier also how much I miss this. Not only the exquisite feeling but how special it is, having a connection with someone in this way, being with someone in such a fashion. I feel my body begin to bead with sweat as she clasps her hand around my neck, pulling my head down, my mouth returning to hers.
She's not as passive and nervous as she was earlier on. I can notice the difference, the change in her confidence. It's amazing. She starts moving this time rather than lying down, meeting my thrusts with her hips, her pelvis brushing against mine as we start a pattern together. She stiffens beneath me and I know she's every bit as close as I am.
It happens for her before it does me. I feel the change within her, the beautiful change, as her nipples harden through my shirt, rubbing against my chest. Her back arches, a cry gasped out between her lips to mine, and then she shivers and shudders wildly. My release comes barely five seconds after her and I come, exploding into her violently, calling out her name.
It was every bit as good as it was earlier. Perhaps even better, with her heightened experience and new-found knowledge. I remain inside her for a few moments, kissing her while bringing up my hand, caressing around her smooth cheek with my fingers as she regains her breath, her skin moist.
Once I bring open my eyes, I'm still panting for breath as I stroke her hair. Moving the lower half of my body very carefully, I bring myself out of her, then collapse onto my side on the carpet, struggling for air as I bring her with me. She leans her head against me, still panting hard herself. Then once I've gathered myself, I lift my head, assessing her, making sure she's okay like my ritual from earlier on today.
She appears perfectly fine but beautifully winded as she meets my gaze, a half-smile on her face as she blinks slowly, exhausted. Thank god she's okay.
"I didn't hurt you this time either, did I?" I ask her through my panted breaths with concern.
She shakes her head against me, then reaches up, patting me on the side of my cheek as I lean down to press a swift kiss into her forehead.
"You... you didn't..." she begins, then she inhales in deeply. Once she recovers, she finally finishes her sentence. "We didn't use... protection like a... a condom? I'm not on the... pill?"
"I don't think we have to be concerned by that," I admit to her softly, leaning down to hold my chin atop of her head. It's true, and even earlier, we hadn't. I don't think it's necessary but I can understand her concern for becoming pregnant, no doubt highly fertile young woman she is. "It isn't possible for me, Ana."
"What isn't?" Her voice sounds every bit as soft and drugged-out as mine does. "Hmm?"
"Around 10 or 11 years ago, I... I had a vasectomy," I explain to her. "I can't father children anymore."
"Oh." I'm not sure what to think about her tone, but it's rather surprised and high pitched. "Was that, um, your decision or your... your ex's, too? Assuming you were still married at the time?"
"We were and it was partly a mutual decision. Kate was... enough."
"Oh," she breathes again.
"Yeah," I breathe back. I'm not quite sure what else to say on that.
"What if, say, you met someone and you decided you wanted to have children again? Or... or they decided even that they wanted children with you?"
"Then I suppose we could always adopt." I shrug against her, this not having been anything I'd had to consider before. "Or I could always try to get it reversed. A specialist reassured me that it was not permanent."
"Oh." There it is again. That mysterious, quiet oh.
"Oh?" I repeat, teasing her. "Just oh?" Then I have to laugh, chuckling against her.
"Oh," she mutters, then she leans slightly on her side to peer up at my face, one of her beautiful big smiles there on her for me. God, this girl... she is utterly beautiful. Her radiant smile and playfulness, catching. Infectious.
God, the way she makes me feel. The life inside her, how young she makes me feel, how youthful.
A song comes to my head, extremely fitting, one of my many favorites.
"Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again," I start to say to her, using my normal speaking voice rather instead of singing. I know she'd be horrified if she heard me start to sing. "Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am young again..." I try my hardest not to laugh as a look of sheer confusion comes across Anastasia's face. She clearly doesn't recognize this song. "Whenever I'm alone with you," I finish, bending down to murmur it into the soft crease at the base of her neck, "You make me feel like I am fun again..."
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVELY ALERTS AND COMMENTS I HAVE RECEIVED. I FEEL SO FLATTERED. I HOPE THIS ONE MAKES UP FOR ALL OF CHRISTIAN'S DENIAL AND MOOD SWINGS. I HOPE IT ISN'T REALLY BADLY WRITTEN OR HORRIBLE, I STILL GET NERVOUS HAHA BUT AM TRYING TO PUSH MYSELF, PARTLY DUE TO YOUR LOVELY REVIEWS AND ENCOURAGEMENT. LOVE TO KNOW YOUR FEELINGS? HOPE IT ISN'T TOO CHEESY? *RUNS AND HIDES AWAY
P.S THANK YOU FOR YOUR COMMENTS. AS TO THE COMMENT ABOUT THIS STORY BEING GROSS DUE TO THE SITUATION I UNDERSTAND WE ALL HAVE DIFFERENT OPINIONS BUT PLEASE IF YOU DONT LIKE A STORY OF THIS NATURE I AM NOT FORCING YOU TO READ. TO PUT SOMETHING UP ON HERE I FIND TERRIFYING YET REWARDING THANKS TO SUCH LOVELY SUPPORT AND ENCOURAGEMENT BUT I AM NOT FORCING TO READ. BEING REPORTED TERRIFIES ME AS I AM TRYING TO WRITE THIS FOR FUN WHILE BEING RESPECTFUL SO I APOLOGIZE IF THE STORY HITS SOME NERVE OR OFFEND.
NOT WANT TO BE A WRITER THAT DOESNT COMPLETE HER STORY BUT I AM CONSIDERING OUT OF FEAR. MOST OF YOU ARE SO LOVELY AND ENCOURAGING BUT SOME REVIEWERS ARE FRIGHTENIBG BUT ONLY A LOW PERCENTAGE
AS ASKED THIS IS FICTION NOT REAL LIFE EXPERIENCE WHAT I AM WRITING ABOUT BUT THANKS ANON REVIEWER FOR CONCERN LOTS OF PUBLISHED WRITERS USE IMAGINATION