Author's Notes: Thank you all for your kind comments and continued reading. (Chapters 18 and 19 seem very popular for some reason.)
One day I should go back and smooth out the contradictions.
Chapter 18: I'll poke your eyes out.
Chapter 19: I don't want to poke your eyes out.
And somewhere I referred to Maeve's blue eyes.
(Edited to add after a guest review (thank you):
Chapter 17: Maeve's PIN is 'clinic17'.
Chapter 20: Maeve - What's a lock screen?
In my defense, Maeve was joking but I didn't make that clear enough so I'll clarify.)
*Sigh*
More sex stuff ahead. And Kermit The Frog.
Chapter 20
Maeve gave a small yawn as she snuggled naked into Otis who was also naked beneath the bed covers.
"Bunch of jerks were cat-calling me," she murmured. "I had green in my hair then so they were going 'Are your pubes green?' Calling me Kermit."
"I'm sorry I said that."
Maeve was confused for a moment, then realised. "No, it's okay for you to say it. You're my boyfriend. You were cute. They were just creeps."
"I wish you didn't have to put up with that shit. I wish no woman had to put up with it."
"Yeah."
"I still don't understand why that would make you dream of having sex with Kermit The Frog."
Maeve blushed a little. "I had a stuffed Kermit The Frog," she said, sheepishly. "It didn't have a penis but I still had it on the bed and I was cuddling it that night. Not because I was soppy and shit but he reminded me of moments when it wasn't so hard. It was tiring, even back then."
Otis was silent for a while then asked quietly, "Was that after Simon Furthassle?"
"Yeah. I was fourteen. Almost fifteen. Claire stopped hanging around right after the bullshit started. Patti tried but she was getting shit as well so she stopped. No pity, remember?" she gently admonished him, knowing the look that would be on his face.
"Sorry, I just… you deserve so much better than what you've had to deal with."
"At least I had Aimee."
"I'm sorry I ever doubted her."
"You should be."
"I was just sitting at the top of the rise overlooking the caravans and he sat next to me," Maeve murmured, stifling another yawn. "Said I looked a little sad and was there anything he could do to help."
"Was he naked at that point?"
"Kermit's always naked. Except for his collar."
"Okay, I mean-"
"Are you always going to keep interrupting when I try to tell you about my dreams?"
"Sorry. I'll be quiet."
"One more interruption and I'll poke your eyes out."
"I thought you said you didn't want to poke my 'beautiful blue eyes' out," Otis said with a smirk.
"You're pissing me off. Threats of sex haven't worked so I'll go back to physical harm."
Otis tenderly kissed her hair. "I promise I'll let you tell your story."
Maeve raised her head and tenderly looked at him.
"What?" he asked.
"Just wanted to see Sexy Otis," she murmured.
"What's the difference to Cute Otis?" Otis asked, frowning.
Maeve shifted position so she could tenderly kiss him.
"That was Sexy Otis I was kissing," she said when it finished. "Our first kiss was Cute Otis."
"When I'm more comfortable, I'm sexy?"
"Yeah," she said. "Confidence is sexy. Courage is sexy. Pushing through the fear so we could do all this. That's been sexy. Doing my laundry was really sexy."
"You've been courageous, too," Otis murmured. "Trusting me."
Maeve lay her head down again.
"I had a few second thoughts, too, but I've seen how quickly you can turn things around after you fuck up," she said.
"What do you mean?"
"The first clinic session. You fucked up telling us you gave a chinchilla a blowjob—"
"I said I saw chinchillas giving themselves blowjobs," Otis protested, mock-frustrated.
"—Then a day later you gave a clinic session in the bathroom and the next time Olivia said you were better at it. Giving advice. Not giving chinchillas blowjobs."
"You know I'm going to keep looking until I find something to get you with? Frog-fucker."
Maeve raised her head and grinned at him, eyes glittering. "See? Cute Otis would never have said that."
"You think calling you frog-fucker is sexy?"
"Sean and mum used to call me frog-face so why shouldn't I fuck frogs?"
"Why frog-face?"
"No idea. They just kept telling me I looked like a frog."
"They're blind."
Maeve moved slightly to snuggle a little closer against Otis.
"He was a real gentleman – gentlefrog. Held his hand out to help me to my feet. Kissed my hand sweetly. Must have seen that in some movie 'cause I liked it. Then he took me to an orgy at Aimee's house."
Otis chuckled, shaking his head. "Why would you be dreaming about a muppet orgy?"
Maeve shrugged. "Caught Sean watching some porn. I'd had sex by that point and I'd heard of orgies but seeing one…"
"Yeah, I was surprised the first time Eric showed me one."
"I'm surprised watching Gonzo have sex with Miss Piggy didn't turn me off sex for life."
"You need to watch a movie called Meet The Feebles."
"What's that?"
"Basically, the muppets on acid."
"Do you have it?"
"I think I've still got it. I'll look for it."
Maeve stifled a yawn. "Aimee and Patti and Claire were there with Grover, Oscar and Elmo. That was really strange. I was a little shy so Aimee told me we could use her room. So me and Kermit went into her room and made out. That's when he suddenly had a penis. It was really big for a frog. Like, twice the size of Adam, relatively."
"Was he a good lover?"
"He was brilliant. You'll have a lot to live up to."
"I'll try my best. When we get around to it."
Maeve looked up at him.
"Do you think I'm weird?" she asked.
"Lily told mum, Jakob and me about her tentacle porn comic. Your dream has nothing on her."
Maeve yawned and glanced at the clock. "I'm going to have to go to sleep. What time's your alarm set?"
"Seven."
"That'll do."
"You okay trying to sleep like this?"
"We can see how we go."
Maeve leant over and kissed him then settled down against him.
"Good night, cookie monster," she murmured.
Day 4
Otis opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. 6:55. He was surprised since he rarely woke up before the alarm.
Maeve's body against him felt comforting and safe and, as memories of the last 48 hours came flooding back to him, miraculous.
He could still barely believe he had come this far in such a short time.
It was as if Maeve kissing him had created the first crack in the wall which had allowed him to start claiming his sexual thoughts
and touching her breast without consciously choosing to had revealed to him the truth of his sexual desires
and fingering her had shown himself his willingness and ability to try to move beyond his shit
and the panic attack had shown him everything he was trying to move away from
and talking with her afterward had shown him a way to move forward
and failing to let her wank him off to completion demonstrated his need to push himself if he was never going to be dragged back into that corner
and Mum's words had clarified the single thing that had really been holding him back
and last night Maeve had allowed him to let the dam burst so he could be carried along with the flow.
It had been the right thing to do and the proof for him was this moment of lying next to her as her body reflected the peacefulness of her sleep.
He contemplated her words to him just before he went down on her and realised he would have to let her know she was half right.
The alarm went off and he felt her stir against him.
She gave a sudden start and looked around then relaxed as understanding washed through her.
He reached over to turn off the alarm then gazed down at her as she looked up at him.
"Morning," he murmured.
"Mmmm," she hummed.
"Did you dream about Kermit?" he asked quietly.
"No," she murmured, snuggling against him. "Dreamt I was floating down the Danube in a hatbox and John Travolta rescued me."
"Is he your other celebrity crush?"
"I thought it was Brad Pitt but must be. Who's yours?"
"I like Margot Robbie."
"Psycho chick or trophy wife?"
"Did anyone ever tell you that you look a little bit like her?"
"Never," sighed Maeve. "Never once in my life has anyone ever said that I look like Margot Robbie. Not once. Not at school. Not at the caravan park. Not when I'm picking up milk at the supermarket. Not on the bus. Not at the movies. Nobody has ever said that to me. You're the first."
"Sorry."
"I'm going to have to change the hair," she muttered.
"Did you get that from the movie?"
"Are you saying I'm a pale imitation of Margot Robbie?"
"No, I'm saying that Margot is the prototype and you're the final release."
"Is that really why you were intrigued by me? 'Cause it's the closest you'll ever get to banging Margot Robbie?"
"Never occurred to me," Otis said with a smirk. "Frog-fucker."
Maeve rose and leant over him and kissed him gently.
"You don't know what you've started with that one," she warned.
"I just had a desire to keep pushing," he murmured. "And I didn't have to hide my feelings anymore so that made it easier. And I really wanted to be… more intimate with you."
He leaned his head closer to her.
"That's a fancy way of saying I was horny," he whispered.
Maeve looked up at him, smiling gently.
"I'm not joking," he said. "I had three erections while you were at work."
"Christ. I hope they were because of me."
"Two of them were."
"What was the other one?"
Otis pressed his lips together. "I looked at some cheese," he said, sheepishly.
"What?" Maeve laughed.
"They may not be connected but it happened after I looked at some cheese."
"What type of cheese?"
"Brie," he said. "Is there any connection between you and brie?"
"I've eaten brie."
"Did you ever eat it while I was with you? Or just before we hung out and I smelt it on you?"
Maeve thought for a moment. "Can't remember."
"It's bugging me."
"God, we are so soft," she sighed, contentedly.
"I wish you didn't have to go to work," he murmured.
"Mmmmm," Maeve hummed wistfully.
"I've put aside the money from the clinic. What if I paid you what you would get from your shift and we can spend the day together?"
"Rent-a-girlfriend?"
"Something like that."
She sighed. "Can't dib out on them. Need to let them know I'm—" She imitated Sylvester The Cat. "—'responsible'. Just in case I do get more hours."
"Have you ever thought of anything else you could do?"
"There's the obvious."
Otis stared down at her, face scrunching.
"Not that desperate. Yet," she said.
"You could be a tutor."
"Get real," she sneered.
"Instead of writing people's essays you could help them draw out the themes for themselves. Write them in their own voices."
"Who's going to pay Cock-biter to come into their houses and tutor them?"
"I hate that name," Otis muttered, bitterly.
Maeve put on her fake accent. "Not overly fond of it meself, lad."
"What the hell was that?" Otis asked, face scrunching.
"Private joke between me and Aimee."
"Not private anymore."
"You come up with an accent," she challenged him.
He thought for a moment then said, "Is this the sorta thing you're after, girl?"
"What's that supposed to be?"
"A Beatles accent," said Otis.
Maeve rolled her eyes. "Keep trying, Ringo."
Maeve stared gently at the bulge in the bed covers. "You haven't panicked," she said quietly.
"No. I haven't," murmured Otis.
"Is it going to go away by itself?"
"I don't think so, this time."
"We've got a bit of time. Do you want me to take care of it?"
"Do you want me to take care of you?"
"Fingers or tongue?"
"Which would you prefer?"
Maeve gazed at him for a moment then murmured, "I think fingers this morning."
"Was I any good last night?" he asked, hesitantly.
"It felt really good, cookie monster."
"That's not what I asked."
"You were good."
"Honesty, remember?"
Maeve took a breath and sighed. "It felt good but you…"
"Need more practice?"
"It felt really good," Maeve said earnestly.
"Lots of practice?" Otis asked, gentle smile on his lips.
A wave of relief washed through her. "Yeah. Lots of practice."
"Lots and lots of practice?"
She pressed her lips together in a smile. "Lots and lots of practice."
"Lots and lots and lots of practice?"
"Lots and lots and lots."
"Do you know anybody who could help me with that?"
"I might."
"Aimee?"
"Fuck you," said Maeve, laughing. "Just for that, you can take care of yourself. And keep those fingers away from me."
The bed covers had been tossed aside and as they kissed, Otis' fingers rubbed Maeve's clit and between her little labs and her hand held him and her fingers stroked across his tip, concentrating on his corona and his blowhole.
Their lips parted and they gently rubbed noses.
"Can I concentrate on you for a bit?" Otis asked.
Maeve nodded and released him and made a little mewl in the back of her throat as his fingers brushed her entrance.
"Are you sure that's not a kitten?" Otis asked.
"Baby lion," said Maeve through mock-gritted teeth.
"Your cumface doesn't look anything like a lion."
"What does it look like?"
Otis thought for a moment. "Like a goddess giving birth to a universe."
Maeve looked at him, nose scrunching. "Maybe you shouldn't try for the too poetical."
"Well, you're the writer," he said as he slipped two fingers inside her and smiled gently as she gasped and arched her back.
"Take a video and let me see and I'll try to come up with something," she said as he stroked her walls the furthest his fingers could reach.
"You'd let me take a video even after the shit with Ruby?" he asked as he brought his fingers back to the most sensitive part of her.
"I'm not expecting you to send it to anyone," she moaned as he swirled his fingers around her girl button.
"I could get hacked," he said as he rubbed his thumb across her clit.
"Then use something that can't get hacked," she said as her hips involuntarily lifted her arse from the bed. "Now shut the fuck up and just finger me."
Otis smiled to himself. "You gave birth to my new universe, Gaia," he said softly as he rubbed her g-spot faster.
"I'm not a fucking earth mother," Maeve forced out as she felt herself starting to crest too fucking soon.
Maeve's fingers stroked his cheek as they lost themselves in a marathon of kissing.
When they took a breather, Maeve looked at him, concerned. "Do you think Jean would have heard me?"
"I wasn't thinking of that," Otis said after a moment.
"You said sound carries."
"You weren't that loud," he said, reassuringly if only technically truthful in comparison to last night.
"It sounded loud."
Otis gently kissed her. "Then maybe she'll take the hint for the future."
"Sexy Otis really doesn't freak out, does he?" she murmured with a gentle smirk.
"Mum will think we've had actual sex and the only thing she'll be concerned about is if we used protection."
"Are you going to tell her we didn't have sex?"
"I want to tell it's none of her business."
"Just change the subject."
"That never works."
Maeve scrunched her lips. "Whatever. I'm not ashamed of my enthusiasm."
"Neither am I," murmured Otis after a moment.
Maeve studied his face then asked, "So, my turn?" She waggled her fingers and gave him a sultry smile.
She watched him as he studied her and she sensed he had something significant he wanted to say.
"What's wrong?" she asked, gently concerned.
She watched him make his final decision to speak.
"You were only half-right last night," Otis murmured.
"About what?"
"Earning a blowjob."
Maeve drew her head back slightly and looked at him, quizzically.
"It wasn't from you," he said. "Earning it from you. It was earning it from me."
Maeve kept silent as he gathered the rest of his thoughts.
"If I finger you first then it's okay to get a handjob from you. If I go down on you first then it's okay to get a blowjob from you. Doing for you was giving me permission from me to want. I don't mean going down on you means you owe me a blowjob but it's okay for me to want one and it's okay for me to accept if you offer one. If we're both in the mood. Am I making sense?"
Maeve nodded, a small smile curling her lips.
He spoke tentatively. "I know I haven't managed to get you off with my tongue yet but, if you're in the mood, would you go down on me? Just a little bit. It doesn't have to be to the finish."
Maeve nodded.
Otis spread his legs wider and Maeve clambered eagerly to lie between them. She looked up at him and grabbed his penis and started stroking, hoping she wouldn't make him come before she got started.
"Okay, ground rules," she said, matter-of-factly. "Don't grab the back of my head and shove me on it."
"I wouldn't." Otis promised.
"That one doesn't come under the 'Sorry, I got lost in the moment' rule." She strongly emphasized the word 'doesn't'.
"I'd never do that. I've seen it in porn when I was researching for Olivia and I hate it. I kind of wish the woman would bite it."
"Yeah, well, just remember what they call me."
"Will not forget," Otis promised and Maeve smiled at the mock-solemnity covering his sincerity.
"Don't come in my mouth without checking with me first," she continued.
"I wouldn't do that either."
"Sometimes I don't mind."
"Why?" asked Otis, genuinely puzzled.
"Because sometimes I don't mind."
"Okay," said Otis, dubiously.
"Try to let me know when it's going to happen. I don't like being surprised."
"I'll try."
"I mean, timing can get out of whack sometimes so it happens, but if you do it deliberately when I haven't agreed, I'll spit it in your face."
"I'd never do it deliberately if you haven't agreed," he said, not sure if he could even if she had agreed.
"And related to that," she said, smirking, "eat more pineapple. It's good for your health."
"I've heard that," Otis said, slight smile on his lips.
Maeve gazed into his eyes for a long moment then softly asked, "You ready?"
He nodded and she could see his nervous anticipation.
"Try to keep watching me. I like looking into your eyes."
She stopped stroking his cock and slowly, her eyes locked onto his, moved her head closer to him and stuck out her tongue and tenderly licked him from base to tip, loving the sound of his gasp and the slight shudder that went through him as she moved across his blowhole.
Otis watched Maeve's tongue flicker around his glans, across his blowhole, along his corona, against his frenulum. The feeling of her tongue against that sensitive skin was indescribable. He had seen blowjobs in porn – had even briefly thought of her doing this during one of the three times he had wanked yesterday while she was at work – but the reality of how it felt was so far beyond anything he had imagined.
He loved the look in her eyes as she kept hers on his and he hoped he would remember to look at her next time he was licking her clit and downstairs lips.
He wondered if she was really enjoying this as much as he had enjoyed licking her out. Of course, he had her juices to taste – and very nice they had tasted – and she had only that sensitive skin, maybe a little pre-cum, but she seemed to be enjoying it. Was that for the act itself or the knowledge that she was doing something for him that was making him feel so good?
He wished Eric had a boyfriend so he could discuss the nature of the enjoyment of giving blowjobs with him.
He had no need to discuss the nature of the enjoyment of receiving them.
All ponderings vanished from his mind as Maeve ran the underside of her tongue across the top of his cock and he suspected he was not going to take long to explode.
"Like?" she asked as she drew her head back slightly and smiled up at him.
"It's incredible," he breathed.
"So how about this?" she said with a smirk and pressed her lips against his tip and took him inside her mouth, her gaze dropping away from him.
Otis stopped breathing as he watched himself disappear further into her mouth than he expected to go and felt her lips sliding across his ridge and down his shaft and felt himself sliding across her tongue and – was that actually the back of her throat - then he felt and saw her lips moving away from his base and felt himself sliding off her tongue and saw the moisture glistening off his skin as more of himself emerged from her mouth and he felt as if he was going to come right then.
"Maev—" he tried to get out urgently.
She snatched her head away and looked at him with concern.
"Too much?"
He shook his head and steadied his breathing.
"Good…" he said. "But I think…" he continued, "I could come any second and I'm not sure I could give you warning."
Maeve relaxed and smiled. "Okay. If it's in my mouth, it's in my mouth."
"Are you sure?" he asked, concerned. "I'm not…"
Maeve simply stared at him.
"Okay," he nodded.
"Just try to let me know if you can."
Maeve ran her tongue the length of him and took him in her mouth again, sliding her lips down him until he was as far inside her as she wanted to take him then withdrawing until her lips were almost at his ridge and then she began her regular rhythm when needing to be reasonably quick, not too deep and always with lots of tongue-work.
She gazed up at him, smiling to herself at his wide eyes and open mouth that made him look like one of those clown-heads at the fair except he was staring straight at her, not wandering an unseeing gaze back and forth across the vista before him.
This wasn't her favourite position – cricked her neck if she took too long before getting the guy off or having him inside her – but she always liked this way the first time, so she could see him and the reaction she was creating and he could see her and the intimacy she was sharing with him and not just seeing the back of her hair as her head bobbed up and down.
She brought her head back so her lips were just covering his ridge and swirled her tongue around his tip. The hitches in his breathing proved how much he enjoyed the feeling and then Maeve heard him half-call out her name and tap her arm and as he groaned she welcomed the surprisingly sweet warm taste on her tongue.
As she watched his cumface, she realised she had a great way to visit with Cute Otis any time she liked.
Their tongues were entwined in a kiss and Maeve was glad he was not one of those guys who were reluctant to kiss afterwards. Too many had been but she loved this intimacy so soon after that intimacy.
When they parted, he looked into her eyes and murmured, "I'm not sure."
"Doesn't matter," Maeve said. "You didn't taste bad."
"Needs more pineapple?"
"A little more pineapple never goes astray."
"You tasted really nice," he said tenderly.
"Not too salty?"
"No, you were kind of sweet."
"You, too," said Maeve, surprised.
"You don't need more pineapple."
Maeve frowned as a thought occurred. "I should have had a test before I let you go down."
It took Otis a moment to understand the implication. "You've used protection, haven't you?"
"Doesn't always work, remember?" she said, wryly.
"I should have had a test, too. I wasn't thinking. I was too interested in pushing forward."
"No, you've never—"
"I should still get tested," he said, firmly.
Maeve nodded and smiled at the support. "The clinic does testing, too."
"Okay, we can go this week. Tuesday? I'm hanging with Eric on Monday and you said Aimee was dropping off school stuff."
"Tuesday," she agreed.
"So we just put oral sex aside until we get the results."
"Can still pick up stuff from kissing."
"We'll wear hazmat suits."
"Might limit the enjoyment."
"We'll figure it out," he smirked, leaning over to kiss her.
"Better get moving," Maeve said, glancing at the clock. "You wanna have a shower together? You can wash my back."
Jean sat at the balcony table, reading the Sunday paper as Maeve and Otis hesitantly emerged from the kitchen, each carrying a bowl of cereal.
"Good morning," Jean said as they sat at the table.
"Morning, Jean."
"Morning, mum."
"Sleep well?" Jean asked, blandly.
"Mmmm," said Maeve, through a spoonful of cereal.
"Yeah," said Otis and took a spoonful of cereal.
"Good," said Jean.
Maeve and Otis looked at each other, keeping silent as they ate their breakfast.
"Did you make a nice meal last night?" Jean asked.
"Lemon butter chicken breasts," Otis said.
"They were really nice," Maeve said. "You were right, he really is a good cook."
"I'm glad my sales pitch wasn't off the mark," Jean said.
"We also had strawberry cheesecake," Maeve said. "That was nice, too."
"I didn't make that," Otis said.
"That was always Otis' favourite as a child," Jean said.
She turned the page in her newspaper.
"Now I realise last night was a temporary embarrassment for all of us," Jean said, "but I assure you the only thing I'm concerned about is that you use protection."
Otis grimaced and Maeve bit her lip.
When she realised her boyfriend wasn't going to speak, she said, "We both understand the importance of proper protection."
"Good," said Jean.
Otis gave Maeve an apologetic look and began eating faster, hoping to get away as soon as he could.
"I also understand the appeal of sex in open areas," Jean continued, "and the desire to take advantage of the lack of other people during my absence however—"
"We didn't hear the car," Maeve said, quickly.
"No," said Otis.
"I suppose you were preoccupied at the time," Jean murmured.
"Mum," Otis whined softly.
"I am pleased to know that you are treating female pleasure with the importance I've tried to impart to you, Otis."
"Mum," Otis whined more loudly.
"Um, Jean…" said Maeve, quietly.
"Your generation has so many hangups when it comes to the discussion of sexuality," Jean said with a sigh.
"It's not a conversation for the breakfast table in front of my girlfriend," Otis muttered.
"I kind of agree with Otis," Maeve murmured, scrunching her face. "Sorry."
Jean looked at her and took note of the girl's concern.
"I'll be going over to Southclyde this morning, Otis," Jean said, changing the subject. "Is there anything you would like me to pick up?"
"Oh, Maeve is working over at Southclyde," Otis said, pleased. "Would you be able to give her a lift?"
"Where do you work?" Jean asked Maeve.
"Speedy Grill," Maeve replied.
"What time does your shift start?"
"Ten."
"Certainly. I'll be leaving 9:20. That okay?"
"That's perfect. I can get the bus back tonight. Thanks, Jean," said Maeve, gratefully.
"Thanks, mum."
"We'll be able to have a nice chat," said Jean and sipped her coffee.
Maeve was dressed in her Speedy Grill uniform, kissing Otis as they stood on his front porch. Jean was halfway up the stairs to the car, watching them.
"Don't let her try to therapize you," Otis said.
"Do you want me to say anything to her?" Maeve asked.
"You don't have to."
"If it comes up?"
Otis nodded.
"Anything specific you want me to say?" Maeve asked.
"I trust you."
Maeve gave him a mischievous grin.
"I'll call you tonight?" he asked.
"Let me call you. I'll have dinner first."
"Okay."
She kissed him again. "Better go."
She turned away but stopped as Otis touched her shoulder.
"Wait," he said.
Maeve turned back and looked at him quizzically then with amused affection as he took her hand and raised it to his lips and kissed it.
When he released it, he asked, "Was that better than the frog?"
Maeve crinkled her nose and shook her head. "Need more practice," she said, turning and walking up the stairs, grinning to herself.
Otis wistfully watched her depart.
As she passed the softly smiling Jean, Maeve muttered, "He's making me soft in the head."
Jean let there be silence until she turned onto the main road then glanced at Maeve and asked, "How embarrassed was Otis last night?"
"A bit," Maeve said after a moment. "He spent half an hour looking for his passport and wondering what country to emigrate to."
Maeve glanced at Jean, uncertain how to read her expression.
"No, he saw the funny side of it," Maeve said.
"Are you still embarrassed?"
"A little," Maeve said after a moment.
"It passes. I can't remember how many times Remi and I were caught by either his parents or mine. Remi is Otis' father."
Maeve bit her lip and looked out the window. "He's told me."
"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Jean asked.
"No," Maeve said, not entirely truthfully.
Jean glanced at her. "Are you concerned I might be upset about you using the same table where we just had breakfast? Don't be."
"It's a little unhygienic," Maeve murmured.
"Don't tell Otis but that and the kitchen table have seen their own share of events over the years. They clean up."
Maeve smiled to herself.
Jean was quiet for a moment, then said, "I know we've only just met but you've known Otis for some months—"
"I'm not going to snitch, Jean," Maeve said then winced at herself, biting her lip with regret.
"I understand. I'm not asking you to. Don't say anything you think Otis would be upset with me knowing," Jean said, reassuringly.
Maeve studied Jean, wondering what she was getting at.
"You seemed to agree with Otis that I went too far this morning," Jean said.
Maeve was silent, uncertain how to respond.
"You can be honest with me," Jean said. "It's good to have a perspective from someone else who cares about him."
"He cares about you," Maeve said. "He told me he knew you were always there for him when he needed you."
Jean felt a soft rawness in her throat.
"I don't think he'll mind me telling you that," Maeve murmured.
"I hope not," Jean said, quietly. "We should always let the people we love know we love them."
Silence settled over them for a while.
"I just feel being open is a good thing," Jean finally said. "Sexuality is a part of our existence and there's nothing shameful about exploring each other's bodies, generating pleasure for each other. Nothing shameful about discussing it in an open and honest manner."
Maeve stared out the window.
"I just feel many of the hang-ups in too many people of your generation could be better served if they could discuss sexuality and sexual behaviour more freely," Jean said.
"Mum used to talk to me about boys and sex after I first got my friendlies," Maeve said, quietly.
"There you go. You call them your friendlies, rather than your periods. People use all these euphemisms as if open discussion of the menstrual cycle is something shameful so it has to be hidden behind a… a… a… kaleidoscope of distancing words."
"Clinical words can seem so harsh and distancing sometimes," Maeve murmured after a moment.
"I understand, Maeve," Jean said. "I do have my own euphemisms for various sex-related terms – jizz, man-milk, hotrod, the canyon, facemask, reverse entry—"
Maeve wondered if Jean was going to go through all the euphemisms she knew.
"—shower curtains, love button, going to California, pleasant fountain—"
Maeve felt she was beginning to understand Otis a little better.
"—bible class, love pumping, yodelling – but I save them for more intimate moments. You and I should be able to talk about menstruation or intercourse or cunnilingus using their proper terms."
Jean glanced across at Maeve.
"Or not," Jean murmured. "I'm sorry. I shall return the horse to the stable."
"It's okay," Maeve said. "I just…"
Jean glanced at her and decided to keep quiet.
"It's different," began Maeve. "A woman talking to a woman. My mum used to try talking to Sean all the time about girls and sex – Sean's my brother – but he's a three-Fs kind of guy. Didn't want to know."
"Find 'em, fuck 'em and flee," Jean muttered with a tinge of contempt in her voice.
"Otis isn't like that," Maeve said quickly. "But…"
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, Maeve," Jean said quietly.
"I understand being open. If you were my mum, if you weren't Otis' mum, I'd be fine talking about it. I think. But… sometimes being too much about openness can have the opposite effect."
Jean was silent for a few moments. "You think my attempts to instill a sense of comfort and familiarity with sexuality – to normalise it - instead has had the opposite effect on Otis?"
Maeve couldn't find the words to answer her.
"Do you think his father would have been the better person to deliver that information?"
"I don't know his dad," Maeve said, hoping she had kept anything untoward out of her voice.
Jean was silent for a long while then sighed and said, "So now you've seen Otis' crazy over-sharing no-boundaries mum in full action, I hope you don't let that affect your feelings for him."
"I don't think you're crazy, Jean," Maeve said with a soft smile. "At least you care about him."
Jean glanced at her but kept silent.
"You really are his mum," Maeve said after moment, soft wonderment and admiration in her voice.
"What do you mean?"
"I've told you both things I haven't told anyone," Maeve said quietly. "You both allow me to relax."
"This has been you relaxed, has it?" Jean said with a soft smile.
"Well," Maeve said, softly smiling. "Sometimes you allow me to relax. Muppet allows me to relax a lot."
"I'm sorry that I've made you feel uncomfortable, Maeve. I'll stop."
Maeve nodded and looked out the window.
"If you like having sex outside," Jean continued as a thought occurred to her, "there's a bench and table down near the river right next to a little inlet. The inlet's virtually undetectable and only people on the river can see you on the table. Remi and I are certain we conceived Otis there."
Maeve was silent and Jean glanced across at her.
"Maybe we can listen to some music for the rest of the trip," Jean said. "Alanis Morissette is in the player."
Otis lay on his bed, phone held out before him, masturbating to the photos of Maeve in her Speedy Grill top, hoping she had been giving him implicit permission when she allowed him to have them.
She had – of course she had – and the mild feelings of guilt he felt were just a sign that healing was a spiral – and of course she meant for him to be doing this if he wanted to – and he probably should let her know – and not pretend he was asking permission first – and could just a few hours away from her lead to him sliding back – and god she was gorgeous - and he wasn't objectifying her - he was appreciating her in one of the ways she wanted him to appreciate her - and of course she knew he loved her intelligence and sense of humour and-
The phone rang and he squeaked and released himself and answered it. "Maeve," he said breathlessly.
"Have you been running?" Maeve asked.
"No, I've…"
"What?"
"Complete honesty?"
"What?"
"Promise you won't be mad?" he asked, scrunching his face.
"Why would I be mad?" she asked, puzzled.
"I've been jerking off to those two photos of you," he said sheepishly from between clenched lips.
"You pervert," Maeve laughed.
"I'm sorry. I know. I should have asked, but—"
"Why do you think I sent them to you, muppet?" she said, fondly.
"I wasn't sure," he said, relaxing. "I think Cute Otis thrives when you aren't around."
"I wish I had a photo of you," Maeve murmured.
"Do you want me to send you one?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"What are you wearing?" Maeve asked huskily.
Otis swallowed. She sounded so hot. "T-shirt and boxers."
"What t-shirt?"
"Voltron."
"That'll do. Is Jawbreaker getting fresh air?"
"Yes," Otis said hesitantly.
"Put him away and send me one."
"Okay," Otis said and used his free hand to push himself back inside his boxers. "I'll put you on speaker. If I screw up and lose you, I'll call back."
"Okay," said Maeve.
He fiddled with his phone and held it out, trying to get a good angle. Frustrated, he sat up.
"I'll try in the mirror. Hang on," he said as walked to the mirror and held the phone out to get as complete a shot of himself as he could without obscuring his face. "Oh," he said, frustrated.
"What?" asked Maeve.
"I'm bulging," he said, trying to adjust himself.
"I don't mind," Maeve said, giggling.
"What security do you have on your phone?"
"What's security?" Maeve asked, blandly.
"Do you have anti-virus, anti-phishing, anti-malware, a PIN on your lock screen?"
"What's a lock screen?" Maeve asked, blandly.
Otis heard himself whimper even though he knew Maeve was fucking with him.
"Look, forget it," Maeve said. "If you're worried, next time you're over, you can check if I've got the proper security set up. I'll take one then."
"I'm sorry. I just don't want you getting hacked."
"It's okay," Maeve said. "I can still remember what you look like."
Otis returned to the bed and removed her from speaker and held the phone to his ear again.
"Back on the bed," he said.
"Wish I was with you. Could help you take care of Jawbreaker."
Otis was silent, reluctant to tell her.
"Otis…?" Maeve asked. "You still there?"
"That's the fourth time today," he said sheepishly.
"What?" Maeve giggled.
"I think you've broken me."
"Seemed to be working alright this morning."
"No, I mean… I'd get them in the morning. Occasional one at night. But now… after we kissed… They just keep happening."
"I'm flattered."
"What if they happen at school?"
"Deal with them."
"Very helpful."
Maeve was silent for a moment. "Just think of Groff. Naked. At school assembly."
"Oh," Otis said, pretending surprise. "He's gone to sleep."
"Really?"
"No."
"Just make sure you've got something to cover yourself."
Otis nodded, pulling a wry face, then asked, "What did you have for dinner?"
"A burger, chips, nuggets."
"How was work?"
"Shit. Do you really think I'd be any good at tutoring?"
"I think you'd be great. You know so much. Understand so much more than I do. Maybe I'll hire you to help tutor me."
"What in?"
"English. I still only get B-plusses."
"You're smarter than that, Otis," Maeve said, surprised.
"Maybe Miss Sands has it out for me."
"I'll beat her up for you."
"You might need to work on anger management and conflict resolution before you start tutoring," Otis said, smirking.
"Fuck you," Maeve said, the smile in her voice clear.
Otis was silent for a moment. "How was the trip over with Mum?" he asked, hesitantly.
"It was good. We listened to Jagged Little Pill part of the way."
"My condolences," Otis said. "Did she say anything?"
"Asked about our embarrassment. Told me a few euphemisms for sex stuff. Do you want to go to California?"
"After I've talked to someone," he said, smiling.
"Have you found anyone?" she asked, quietly.
"I've got a few names. I'll call them tomorrow."
Maeve hummed to herself then said, tentatively, "She asked me if she went too far this morning."
"What did you say?" Otis asked, quietly.
"She talked about how she's tried to be open about sexuality and shit. Tried to normalise it." She hesitated. "I said sometimes it could have the opposite effect than intended."
Otis nodded then remembered Maeve couldn't see him. "Okay."
"She wondered if maybe your dad would have been better off telling you some of the shit."
"He did," Otis muttered.
"I said I didn't know your dad."
Otis sensed an undertone in her voice but kept quiet.
"Anything else is for you to say to her," continued Maeve. "Or not. Your choice."
"After I talk to someone, I'll talk to her."
"Your choice."
There was silence between them for a moment.
"I told her you said you were really glad that she was there for you when you needed her," Maeve murmured.
"Thank you," said Otis, very quietly, very touched.
"I really like her," Maeve said, softly.
"Good," murmured Otis.
"God, you're making me soft, Milburn," she said.
"That's a bad thing, isn't it?"
"Otis…?"
"What?"
"I meant it. You're giving me just as much as you say I'm giving you. I couldn't feel like this without you."
Otis was silent for a moment, then murmured, "I love you."
"Love you," Maeve murmured.
"Frog-fucker…?" Otis asked after another moment.
"What, chinchilla sucker?" Maeve asked, the smile in her voice clear.
"What are you wearing?"
Author's Notes: I borrowed a post-BJ beat from Can I Sleep in your Brain? by macsdennis. I hope they don't mind.
I find writing Otis pleasing Maeve scenes easier than writing Maeve pleasing Otis and sometimes wonder with both if I'm just writing porn or writing with the level of frankness seen in the show. If I've gone too far, let me know.
If the chapter's too long, please also let me know. I just couldn't think of another suitable place for a break.
As always, I hope you get entertainment from it.
