His Five Night Stand (12 page)

“You want to watch.” My pulse raced with excitement and a huge dose of fear.

“Yes please, I want to watch you. Nothing is more erotic than a woman as she feels pleasure. You are gorgeous all the time, but watching you come, it blows my mind.”

“I’m not sure I can do it,” I whispered. “I’m not a prude or anything, I can make myself come, but I don’t usually do that, especially not in front of people.”

“I’m not people, I’m your lover,” he said, rolling over he kissed me his tongue sliding inside my mouth, his hand resting against my pussy.

“You’re my lover,” I murmured the word thrilling me, making me even wetter.

“So, tell me what turns you on, lover, show me,” he said, moving his mouth to my neck.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply letting the heat between my legs paint a picture in my mind. I could see us, the way I wanted us to be. “I’m lying on the bed, with my legs spread,” I whispered.

“Fuck yes, baby,” He said, pressing his body next to me. I could feel his hardness.

I spread my legs and slid a hand down my body, slipping into my panties. I touched myself, one hand on my tits, the other between my legs. I moved in slow circles the way he had touched me, the way I’d touched myself when listening to the love making next door. “I’m thinking of your cock and how much I want you inside me,” I said.

“Tell me more,” he whispered, his mouth on my throat.

“I can’t,” I said, “I can’t say it all.” The words were failing me, I could see the pictures but it was so difficult to speak out loud.

“That’s okay, that’s okay, he said, “You’re perfect love, just close your eyes and explore.”

I rubbed my clit in slow circles remembering how he had touched me, I moved faster and harder thinking of him pressed against me wanting his cock inside me I arched my back wishing I could pull him inside, wishing he would fuck me. My fingers squeezing my tits harder and harder. “Touch me,” I said, “Please touch me.” I took his hand and placed it on my tits as I rubbed. “Harder, harder.” My voice growing, he leaned in and whispered.

“I want to hear you moan baby.”

And with that I screamed “Now, now, now,” as he pinched me so hard, I felt a wave of pain and pleasure rock through me and my voice echoed off the walls.

We both slept. And I woke up alone. The clock said 1:00 a.m.

I closed my eyes wondering if the hours in bed with him had been a dream. We hadn’t had sex but we had made love in a way I couldn’t understand. I had never experienced something so erotic, so primal and his penis had never touched my bare skin. In some ways it had felt juvenile, like high school students afraid to take off their clothes, but in some ways it had felt more sexually charged than any of the nights I’d spent with Henry completely naked.

I woke up later that night to noises from the bedroom next door. It was 4:00 a.m. I sat up in bed my heart racing. I had screamed earlier, had Odessa heard me? There was moaning and the murmuring of conversation. I wondered who Odessa had in her bed tonight. Who had she chosen to love from that sea of beautiful people? “With your mouth,” Odessa said, her voice clear and ragged with wanting. “Like that, with your mouth.”

I lay down in bed my legs spread and imagined Theo’s head between my legs. He had touched me in ways I had never been touched and I wanted more next time. I wanted his mouth, his tongue, I wanted him inside me. I didn’t hesitate this time. I touched myself and let myself move with the moans next door and this time I didn’t feel like an outsider. I was one of them. I was learning what made me come too. I felt the rippling as Odessa screamed. I imagined her holding a stranger’s face against her pussy, his tongue inside her like a cock, she pressed against him as they fucked.

I came so hard I bit my lip.

T
he next morning the memory of the night with Theo was confusing, sexy, embarrassing, and thrilling in that order. First I wanted to call him up and tell him that I wasn’t the kind of girl who rolled around half naked with men I barely knew. Then I wanted to knock on his door and beg him to make me come again right that very moment, because I was absolutely the kind of girl who rolled around half naked with men I barely knew. This was followed by a sudden fear that I’d been too loud or too something mixed with an adrenaline rush that made me want to replay every delicious moment of our night together slowly, very slowly.

I had so many questions for Theo, so many questions for myself. I wanted to hear his beautiful deep voice assure me that the night we’d spent together had been as transformative for him as it was for me.

But there were rules.

Five nights. Nothing more.

No phones.

Fancy notecards.

And I’d agreed to the rules which meant he would contact me, and I needed a plan for the day. I was a single woman and on my own.

This was technically the first day of my vacation. At this point Henry and I were supposed to be out on the Oregon Coast at a B&B in Seaside. Just thinking about the itinerary on the fridge made my stomach turn. Henry had planned out every stop. I wondered at what point in his planning did it occur to him he’d rather be sleeping with Sophia than me.

“Quit with the pity party Callie,” I said, deciding the only reasonable thing was to get dressed and try to make something of my day. There were a few thrift stores on the Ave I wanted to hit. My apartment still lacked a real sense of style.

As I got dressed, I pushed Henry to the back of my mind and thought instead, of Theo and how he’d played with me with his hands, his mouth, and his cock. Every move designed to make me want more and it had worked. The start of the night I’d been almost too nervous to speak and by the end I had been screaming at the top of my lungs.

I stood in front of the mirror in my black and white tiled bathroom as I brushed my hair back into a ponytail. My cheeks flushed, I wondered if it was my imagination but I felt more alive this morning. Was my skin less pasty? Did I look less sickly, less broken and sad?

Was Theo’s promise to heal my broken heart in five days real?

Or, was I being played by a guy who just liked to fuck around with strangers?

The last thought made my stomach turn. We’d been safe, we hadn’t even touched each other skin on skin yet and I’d seen his test results. I was on the pill and I wondered if we’d use a condom if and when we had sex. We probably should, the pill wasn’t 100 percent; we’d swapped medical info, but it was never a bad idea to be too safe.

I had been with Henry for so long I wasn’t used to these kinds of conversations or even internal debates. I’d have to talk with Theo about using more protection if things progressed. Still the idea of his skin against mine was so sexy. I hated to think of the thin skin of a condom between us, but wasn’t that the type of stupid thinking that caused trouble? I was thinking like a hormone driven high school kid.

I brushed my teeth and contemplated the question of Theo’s past. Was he really just a player and if so, did I care? It was true that Theo had played with me, but I hadn’t been his plaything. We had played together.

“What exactly have you gotten yourself into Callie” I asked my reflection. It was no use, I had no idea but I knew I wasn’t going to stop.

I spent the afternoon bargain shopping. I picked up a painting of a seascape in a driftwood frame, and some mercury candlesticks. I knew I shouldn’t be spending money on the apartment but I wanted it to be mine. As I hung the picture on the wall near the bed I realized I’d never set up a space of my own like this before. Sure I’d had a dorm in
college and graduate housing, but from there I’d moved to Henry’s. His style was so polished, so much more demanding than mine. I thought of the cold silver and black lines that dominated the home we’d shared together and realized for the first time that every purchase had been driven by his choices.

We’d pretended for years that we were in things together, but how many times had I swallowed my own opinion for the greater good.

“And I was the designer you mother trucker,” I said. For the first time in a long time I was trying not to swear to be a better person, not because Henry required it.

I surveyed my increasingly homey space. Windows cracked open, the white curtains billowed in the breeze. My beachy painting made me think of trips to the beach in California as a girl, before my parents had died. Those were happy days of sunlight and sand between my toes. The seascape felt solitary and tranquil but not lonely, nothing lonely about this space at all I realized with pride.

My phone rang, and for a moment my heart leapt out of my chest hoping it was Theo until my brain remembered he didn’t have my number.

“You aren’t spiraling, are you?”

It was Cara.

“No, I’m nesting,” I said. “I’m channeling my grief into productivity. I’m making this space my own, and it looks pretty darn good if I do say so myself.”

“Fabulous. Now channel your grief into a walk with me. It’s beautiful outside, I’ll meet you at Greenlake in fifteen.”

“Deal,” I said. I grabbed my running shoes and headed out the door. As I walked past Theo’s door I totally resisted the urge to knock.

Greenlake Park was equidistant between my apartment and Cara’s house. A large man-made lake with an amphitheater on one side and a community center on the other; the narrow path was often crowded with moms pushing baby strollers, packs of bikers, and running clubs. A 2.7 mile loop on the inside, and 3.1 mile on the outside trail it was the perfect distance for a run or a walk with a friend.

“Run or walk?” Cara asked, when she spotted me. She was stretching her calves on the curb.

“Walk, I’m tired,” I said, thinking of my sleepless night.

“Deal. How was your Monday?” Cara said, snaking her arm through mine as we started walking along the winding asphalt path that framed Greenlake.

“You mean how was day five of my life without Henry?”

“You know the amount of time isn’t totally relevant here. You are going to grieve and deal with this on your own timeline.”

“Is that the kind of thing you tell all your patients?” We shifted to the side at the sound of a bicyclist approaching from behind.

“You are not a patient; you are my friend.”

“Well, as your friend,” I said. “I appreciate the free counseling and I think it was a good day. I feel like I’m coming out of my funk.”

“Good.” Cara squeezed my arm before letting go. We picked up the pace, strolling arm in arm, weaving between couples and packs of moms and strollers. Greenlake became incredibly busy on warm summer nights. It felt good to be out in the world.