The leather couch cradled our butts like marshmallows as Peyton, my mom, and I watched the Niners lose their shit to the Vikings yesterday. I cringed whenever a Vikings fan hooted, but I was happy. Happier than I’d been in a long time. Mom screamed and yelled at the tv and drank her gluten-free beer with gusto and Peyton ate quesadillas and buttered carrots and gulped down root beer like it was ambrosia. I was the center of my own happiness.
We got home after running a couple of errands and I let Peyton watch some tv while I puttered around the apartment cleaning. I peeled off my bra and let my breasts strain beneath my white t-shirt whenever I bent over or reached into a cupboard. I wondered what our lives would be like if I had a man in it, like all the way. Someone to put those dishes away that are too high for me to reach. Someone to grab me as I walked by to kiss my neck or swat my bottom. Would he be laying with Peyton watching Care Bears? Would he be reading a book in our room? Is this life even real??
At around 6 there was a knock at the door, heavy and curt. It was The Neighbor, I knew without even opening the door. Peyton beat me to it and squealed when TN came out from behind the hallway corner. “Why were you hiding?” Peyton asked laughing.
“Because I can!” replied TN with a big smile.
I came up behind my baby in a grey and black striped skirt and black Converse One-Stars; my heavy breasts hung on display through the murky white of my shirt. I held the door open with one hand as Peyton darted out and hid where TN had been behind the corner.
“Good. I just wanted to say HI and make sure you weren’t still mad at me from last night,” he smiled boyishly at me.
“Mad at you?”
“Yeah, you didn’t want me to leave.”
“I never want you to leave. Tina was passed out on the chair and I didn’t want to stop hanging out.”
“Did Downstairs Neighbor ever come over?”
“Too bad. I was hoping you’d have a good story to tell.”
“Nope. I just fell asleep after you left. Nothing exciting to report.” Just then Peyton darted out from the hiding spot, zipped past TN and smacked him on the ass. TN’s face lit up in shock and a laugh burst out of me.
“Did Peyton just –?” he started.
“Yep!! You just got spanked!” We stood there and laughed, the innuendo heavy between us. I invited him in briefly to return some cleaning supplies he’d lent me and then walked him out and returned to nesting and mothering. The birds chirped, the sun shone, I kissed and loved.
Later I texted TN to see if he’d like to come over after Peyton was asleep to watch a movie. He politely declined and said he was working on a project. I poured myself a glass of wine and settled in to watch a little Frasier after I’d tucked in my little person. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open, the warmth of the day had sapped my energy as if I’d laid on the beach turning crispy brown all day.
At 10 I awoke on my couch and headed to bed. I put on pajama pants and crawled under my covers dreaming about space shuttles and my exhusband and father. I awoke again at around midnight and grabbed my laptop and turned on another Frasier episode. My eyes fluttered, my breathing slowed, I drifted off.
Instantly, my heart raced. I’d forgotten to turn off my phone. I rolled over and picked it up. It was TN. “You up?”
I struggled with what to answer. Countless times he has ignored my late night texts, occasionally even my knocks. Should I do the same?? I’m exhausted, mildly cranky. My fingers hovered over the little lit-up phone.
“Sort of,” I replied.
Immediately he responded with, “Coming over!”
I smiled and shook my head and dragged myself out of bed. I briefly considered changing into something sexier than what I had on, but decided against it. Fuck it. It was dark, I felt like weights were hanging from my eyelids. He’d have to make do with where I was.
I walked through the darkened apartment, my furniture shadows of lurking, scoffing monsters. “You’re an idiot, Hy,” I imagined my gargoyles saying. “Go back to fucking bed.”
I reached the front door and pulled it open it as TN was pushing it. He was wearing the grey suit jacket we’d bought him during his $1500 shopping spree at Nordstrom, the wiener dog shirt, a pair of thigh-hugging jeans and white socks.
“What’s up, TN?” I said squinting at him.
“What do I wear with this jacket?”
“Seriously?? That’s why you’re over here??”
“I can leave…”
“No,” I turned to lead him back to my room. “We’ll just have to talk in my room. Come on.”
He followed me back through the dark, the gargoyles laughing now, and I climbed into bed. He turned on the bathroom light and cracked the door to not blind me.
We discussed fashion for several minutes. He’s nervous about wearing something so fashion forward. I told him to wear it like he owns it and he’d look great. “So it’s that ‘confidence’ thing you women love, eh? Goddamnit. Only 51% of the population seems to know about this.” His point being he didn’t know if he could pull it off.
I lay on my back and stretched and said something about “payment” for fashion advice. He backed up a little and leaned against the wall looking at me meaningfully. “I don’t want to have sex,” I stammered, “that’s not what I’m talking about.” I was suddenly embarrassed.
His eyes widened then he smiled. “But what if I want to have sex??” I knew he was baiting me to see if I’d cave.
“Too bad. All I really want is for you to touch my boobs.” I lifted my shirt and let them spill out.
“Really?? That’s it?” He sounded surprised. Quickly, he closed the distance between us and I scooted over to make room. He kneaded and squeezed my breasts watching me as I smiled up at him.
“Mmm. That feels good. You’re the best at that. It hurts so good.” I shut my eyes and pretended I was a ball of dough.
“Really? It hurts?” his hands became softer, the look on his face concerned.
“No, no. I like it.” I grabbed his wrists and pressed his hands down on me harder.
My right hand slid across his thighs and rubbed his bulge absent-mindedly as he began to lave my breasts with his warm mouth. First one nipple went in his mouth, then the other. His 5 o’clock shadow a stark contrast to my soft, smooth pale swells. I gently stroked his face and ran my fingers through his hair as he drank from me. “It’s so hot to see your face pressed into me like that,” I said.
His answer was to gather up both breasts and take my nipples in his mouth. I arched a little and gasped against the tandem sensation rippling down my body. “God, that’ s hot,” I whispered, “It reminds me of when there are more than just one of you in the room.” He continued to lavish attention on me as I purred and stirred beneath him.
“Did I leave marks on you the other night?” I wondered out loud. I had made him cry out from clawing his thighs into me when my legs were pinned over my head.
“I don’t know.” He stood and undid his belt and slowly unzipped his pants. His erection sprung out, pink and ready. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.
I tenderly touched his bare thigh. There were no marks. “Turn around.” He slowly swung his meat past my face and offered me his other thigh. Nothing there, either. I kissed the spot where they should have been and turned him to face me, his cock inches from my mouth. I gently grabbed it and pulled him closer, but he stepped back and chuckled. I was left leaning over the edge of my bed like a baby bird with an open mouth.
“You are so funny, Hy.”
“Really? Let me suck it. I haven’t done that in so long.”
“No, not tonight,” he said gently tucking himself back in.
“Why do you torture me like this?” I asked with a tiny pout.
“I take you for granted.” I just looked at him. “I know I do and I’m sorry. If you never sucked my cock I’d be begging you for it.” He buckled his pants and stepped back to the edge of the bed as I leaned into my pillow on my side, my left leg hitched up. I sunk deeper into my mattress both disappointed and relieved. My exhaustion piled down on me suddenly.
“What am I supposed to say to that? Should I get crazy and angry at you? Or just remain congenial?”
“I don’t know,” he said as he pulled the sheets up over my hip tucking me in. “You’re tired. It’s time for you to sleep.” He leaned down a little and traced my jaw with his finger. “It’s late,” he traced my jaw again and swept his fingers across my temples and laid out a tendril of my hair on my pillow. “Go to sleep.”
“Ok,” I murmured.
“I’m going to go now, Hy. Do you have a key under your mat?”
“I don’t know, maybe.”
“Ok, well, if you do, I’ll lock the door for you. If not, I’ll come back and get you. Goodnight.”
He turned and quietly left. I barely heard the click of the front door before I drifted off to sleep still feeling his tender touch and the gaze of the gargoyles on my face.