Lost (12 page)

  I remember feeling everything in that moment.  Every word he spoke felt like everything happening to me at once.  He was playing my body and describing it to me perfectly.
  I was so aroused, my body starting moving against him.  I kissed him harder and I raised my numb arms around his shoulders to draw him deeper into me.  When I moaned unconsciously, I knew I had never wanted anyone so badly in my life, until he abruptly stopped. 

  Peter whispered, “Keep your eyes closed, and feel your body's needs,” even as he stopped touching me, until moments later he was back touching me again.

  He must have removed his clothing while I was envisioning my body because he was suddenly back, lying between my legs, as he kissed me and slowly entered my body with his own.
  Entering me slowly, Peter moved in a carefree motion without speaking.  He just kissed me and rocked inside my body for hours it seemed.
  Pulling out of me some time later, Peter crawled down my body and again took me with his mouth and fingers, with more power and urgency then before.  He touched me and impaled me until I felt everything inside me change.
  “Feel your body, Sophie,” he spoke inside me.
  With his soft words all around me I felt my dampness, and my swollen insides and my need clawing at me.  I felt his fingers moving inside me, and I felt his tongue teasing me.  I felt everything he did to me with such awareness, my arousal quickly climbed.
  “Please...” I heard myself beg even as he quickened his movements for me.
  Peter continued pleasuring me and I knew I was speaking and I knew I was begging.  I knew I was moving, and I knew I was trying.  I knew everything but I could make no sense of any of it.  All I knew was I was being destroyed from the inside out and I needed Peter to save me.
  When he again entered me slowly, while continuing the assault on my clit, I finally found myself edge into and past my release.  With a guttural moan, and a twist of my spine, I tried to throw him off me.  I tried to move him away from the intensity of my body.  I tried to get away from everything he did to me, but he wouldn't let me go. 

  Still deep inside me, Peter grabbed me up by my shoulders and crushed me to his chest as he flipped us to his back.  He moved us and I found myself crying.
  I was suddenly crying hard, and I hated the confusion and desperation I felt in that moment.  I hated everything in that moment.
 

  “I don't know what's wrong...” I finally choked in the silence around us.
  “It’s okay, Sophie.  I think this is just a post-orgasm release.  You're over sensitized and emotional from coming and from the intensity of the physical events proceeding it.  I had you very emotionally engaged in the moment you released, so you're just dropping.  It'll pass soon though if you don't fight it.”
  “I've never felt like this before,” I admitted on a rush.
  “Good...” He smiled as he kissed my forehead.  “I make some pretty good herbal creams and blended oils, huh?”
  “I don't think it was the cream.  I think it was you,” I admitted sounding sad.
  Thankfully, Peter didn't reply to my words, though he did hold me a little tighter and he did kiss my forehead once again as we lay in silence. 
  After a few minutes though I found the silence was bothering me.  My tears had stopped and I was overcome with the sudden need to flee from him.  So I told him I needed a shower, and before he could reply I simply pulled myself from his arms and raced for my bathroom.
  Once inside the warm shower I really cried.  I don't know why, maybe exactly as he said.  Maybe that reaction was common with some women, and maybe it was even normal.  But it wasn't for me. 

  I felt weak, and almost damaged after being with him like that.  I felt like the person I was just 2 weeks ago was fading away and I hated the feeling in my chest.  It was sadness and fear, I knew.  But I couldn't stop the feelings from taking me over, even as I cried in the shower so Peter wouldn't see me so weak and lost because of him.
  When the shower curtain was opened and I was still sitting on the tub floor crying, my humiliation felt so complete I immediately went into defensive mode. 

  Standing quickly, I put my face under the water to hide my tears and I turned to Peter with a fake smile.
  “Want to join me?” I asked with a confidence I wasn't feeling at all.
  “Sophie, please don't run from me.  Talk to me,” he said looking sad himself.
  “I'm not running, I just wanted to freshen up,” I lied again as I reached for his semi-erect penis.  Pulling him by his body, he stepped into the shower with me as I took him into a deep kiss.
  Peter moaned into my mouth, as I gave him the best hand-job I could manage in the close space of the shower.  Turning him, I pushed him against the wall, and fell to my knees for a little payback, which was exactly how I felt. 

  I wanted to make him feel as out of control as he had made me feel.  I didn't want all that romantic, loving shit.  I wanted normal sex without all the emotional trappings.  That's what I tried to do, but Peter stopped my attempt by lifting me back up by my arms.
  “I don't need a blow job, Sophie.  I need to be inside you,
with
you,” he said while turning me to lean against the wall.
  “I don't have any condoms,” I realized suddenly.
  “I'll pull out,”
  “But what if-”
  “Do you trust me?” He asked staring at me hard.
  “I guess.  But I can't have an accident,” I pleaded.
  “Neither can I,” he replied.
  So I threw caution to the wind, and chose to forget who I was.  I was irresponsible for the first time in my 24 years.  I knew this had the potential to be tragically life-altering, and yet I relented for some reason I couldn't understand.
  I had never had sex without a condom.  Not with my 3 1/2 men before Peter, and never in my wildest dreams.  I just didn't live on the edge like that.  However, I suddenly found myself willing to risk everything with this man, and that made me fear him even more.
 

  After another kiss, I allowed him to wrap my left leg around his hip, and then I allowed him to raise my right leg around him.  I let him raise my arms to circle his neck, and I allowed him to slowly enter me.  I allowed him to move inside me slowly with no emotion showing on my face, because I felt nothing but fear and unhappiness all around me.
  When Peter tried to touch my body, I pulled his hand away and whispered, “I’m too sensitive,” which was true and not.  But when he looked at me like he knew I had emotionally run away and he tried to pull my legs from his waist so he could stop,
I
stopped his retreat.
  I needed to have sex and I needed to be screwed.  I needed what I had always known so I could feel more like myself again.
  Clenching and grinding, arching and moaning, I suddenly moved hard and fast against Peter.  Pulling at him until I forced him to speed up his own movements I looked away from him as he got closer to his release.

  And eventually when he forced my legs from his hips to stand, he came on my stomach like he promised.  He came on me instead of in me and the fear faded slightly.  After he came on my stomach a kind of relief took over, and I could finally breathe again.
  “I'm going to go,” Peter said sadly and my breath left me on a gasp.
  “Why?” I asked too loudly.
  “I think we need a little break from each other, that's all.”
  “I don't need a break from you,” I heard myself practically beg.
  “I think you do, Sophie.  You're not even looking at me the same as you did earlier.  You have this look on your face like I'm some kind of monster who’s going to hurt you.  I just can't tell if your fear is physical or emotional-”
  “It's emotional,” I said shocking us both.
  “Why?  Talk to me,” he asked pushing my wet hair from my cheek.
  “You scare me.”
  “Why?”
  “I'm used to men falling in love with me, but with you I think it'll be the other way around and I don't like that.  I feel like you'll use it to hurt me later or something.  I'm just not used to feeling something for a man that I couldn't control, and you make me feel very out of control, which I hate.”
  “So we'll talk when you feel this way, and I'll assure you again and again that I'm not looking to hurt you.  When you feel out of control talk to me, and I'll try to help.  But you have to talk to me, Sophie.  Because that closed off, fucking me without emotion thing you just did to me won't work.  I'll walk away if I feel like you dislike me and this relationship enough to close down like that.”

  “I wasn’t-” But he cut me off and continued.

  “Fucking because you wanted to be fucked, while you looked at me like I was a monster, when I've done nothing to deserve it, hurt me, Sophie.  I had just spent an emotionally charged, sexy as hell evening with you, bringing you to orgasm after only 2 attempts- not 3- in case you didn't realize, which made me feel very close to you, and then you did this thing- this angry fucking thing, and I feel let down by you.  Remembering our first time together like that is going to haunt me.”
  “I'm sorry, I just freaked out.”
  “I know you did.  We experienced a form of intimacy not many couples experience, but you shut down instead of opening up to me.  I would have held you all night and spoke to you until you found yourself secure again, but you didn't let me,” he moaned.
  Feeling Peter’s upset, I was stunned by my reality in that moment.  Looking at him, I suddenly found myself burst out laughing.
  “Do you even realize what you sound like?  You're not real!  Peter, you’re good looking, normal-ish, with a job, and a mortgage, and a degree, and a small business, but you speak like some character out of a romance novel.  You're just too much for someone like me.  You don't even sound real, and I keep waiting for you to be a serial killer or something,” I said still laughing.
  “Well, I'm no serial killer, and I'm definitely real.  Yes, I may seem more emotionally in-tuned to women than most men, but I grew up with 2 sisters I love, who I watched get their hearts broken over and over, so I listened to them tell me everything the men did to them, and I slowly grew into a man who was more aware of women and their needs than other men.  Plus, my dad cheated on my mom once and I know how low her self-esteem plummeted after the affair, well after they got back together.  So I decided I wasn't going to be an asshole like that.  But that's the only thing weird about me, Sophie.  I don't want to be an asshole, and I won't change or apologize for it because you have hang-ups, or feel more secure with a typical guy.”
  “I'm sorry.  I don't want that.  But I will freak out sometimes, and you'll have to be patient with me.”
  “I can be patient.  But only if you let me know what's going on so I'm not left wondering what the hell is going on between us.  Because honestly Sophie, I feel this crazy pull for you, too.  It's heavy, and intense, and all-consuming for me as well.  I really like you, and I want to get to the place where I can adore you, just like you want to be.”
  “Oh...
See!
  That's what I'm talking about,” I laughed.  “Jesus
Christ
, Peter.  No guy talks like that.  Can't you just be normal so I can chill out and stop wanting you so much?”
  “Sure I can,” he grinned. “Hey, Bitch. Get in the kitchen and make me a snack.  I'm fucking starving,” he burst out laughing as I smacked his arm.
  “Close.  Just leave out the bitch next time,” I grinned.
  “Okay.  Can we get out of here so you can make me that snack?  I'm starving.”
  “Okay...” I said with a gentle kiss and relief coursing through me.
 

  A half hour later Peter and I were snuggled on the couch, me in my pj’s and him in just his jeans eating grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup, which was his favorite he told me, of course.  Because we couldn't even disagree about soup. 
  Sitting with Peter, I knew that night he was everything I had ever wanted from a man.  I knew it and he proved it to me by sleeping beside me, talking all night, but never again attempting sex with me.  He wanted to hold me only, he said, because he was worried I was a little too
emotionally fragile
for more sex after the night’s earlier events.  Instead, he slept beside me and warmed me all night in his arms.
 

  The following morning when he returned after running to the cafe down the street for our coffee, we talked a little more and planned out our week.  He had to work until Wednesday and I had to work until Friday at 3:00 on Christmas Eve, so he insisted he would see me right after work on Friday before the crazy holiday stuff started.
  Then he left me at 11:00 Sunday morning.  After 40 hours together, give or take, he actually left me to return to the real world.

  He kissed me good bye at the door and told me he'd miss me.  He said he'd try to stop by in the mornings because he didn't think he could go until Friday without seeing me.  And when he admitted he couldn’t go that long without seeing me I was instantly calmed because I had a bad feeling I was going to be in knots if I didn't see him for 5 days myself.
 

  Later that day I drove to my parents’ house with a perma-smile and explained Peter over dinner.  I told them everything, shy of exact sexual details, but I did explain how amazing he was for me sexually, how I freaked out and acted like a psycho, and how he talked me back off the ledge.
  My parents were supportive and understanding, and even described a little about their early days and the intensity they had for each other in their beginning as a couple.
  Throughout our conversation Steven stayed somewhat quiet, but not overly so, until he told me when I was finished talking about me and Peter that he was a little jealous.  He said his tramp from 2 nights before hadn't called him and he felt totally used which cracked me and my mom up.
  Steven had been heard to say, 'love em and leave em' in the past, so he received no sympathy from my parents and I when he was loved and left.