New Start: Ray's Story
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Cheating, Slow,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Ray is trying to become the man he should have been. And to have the marriage and life that he could have if only it all works outs. **For clarity please try to read New Start : Luke's Story first.**
She was having an affair. That thought resonated through his brain like a ringing in his ears. It made his stomach clench and his eyes burn. It was hard to think about. It was enough to make him want to bang his head against a wall.
She didn't love him anymore. That thought hurt like no other. It made him feel like the wall had banged against him. It was a deeper wound. It was a wound that spoke of total betrayal. The body was easy. It wasn't as guarded as the heart or the soul. It was not a superficial invasion, but more profound a penetration.
Dana with her short blonde hair and her eyes that sparkled with mischief. She was lost to him.
The last 6 months were strange. He could remember so many of the days. Recall so many of them with startling clarity. It was as if he had lived the 4 years previous in a haze. He went from one meeting to another. He was a slave to a Palm Pilot. Its beeps and chirps told him what to do and when to do it. He was scared to make a move without its permission. But then 6 months ago Chuck died. Actually that wasn't true. Chuck's actual death was much longer than that. But he died for Ray 6 months ago.
And the blow was unexpected. It snuck in under his guard. Chuck was really just lost. Chuck was just off living life to its fullest. He was surfing in Hawaii on his own Endless Summer chasing waves. Chuck was fucking beauty queens and wrestling gators in the south. But now they knew. The 3 friends had lost their friend. As close as they were they each felt it privately. Chuck's passing was a shock. It didn't fit neatly into Ray's structured life. It didn't comprehend. There wasn't a simple date entry to be made in his PDA. How was he supposed to sync it up in his mind?
He learned something that night. As the bottles of beer clanked together, a knell echoed out. A sound that fractured the crystal of his walls. His PDA was too small a shield against the arrows and barbs of life. And this last attack; it hurt. As much as he tried to stifle it. Hold it inside himself in that infinite well of acceptance and resignation that he prided himself on. But it wouldn't go quietly. It would 'rage, rage against the dying of the light.'
He didn't sleep that night. He twisted and turned until he was tired of pretending that sleep was waiting for him. He went to his den, took a book and a blanket, with the intention of reading away the night. He walked to his desk, looked at the computer, and sat in his chair. Maybe he would work. He was ready to turn on the monitor, ready to jolt the little box to life, but stopped short. He saw himself on the curved face of the monitor. He looked at the distorted lines of his profile. The disarray of blond hair. The darkening smudges under his eyes. The odd angle of his nose. It was one of those nights. When the memories were too thick like weeds and brambles that pushed up off the grave of the fireflies.
Chuck was gone. He was the open one. He had nothing to hide. He had no shame to feel. He was strong and brave. Ray looked at his hands. Even now they seemed fragile. Even now his wrists looked thin and dainty. His fingers curled like a flytrap closing and balled into fists. Even now his fists looked like small oranges not thick and potent like ham hocks or beef knuckles. He looked back at the monitor half expecting to see a little boy's face to look back at him. He pulled the blanket around himself trying to shroud himself against the cold. He couldn't get warm.
Chuck was gone. He was the strength. He was the unguarded one. The one who loved and shared himself with those around him. Ray was in awe of that. He spent a lifetime keeping himself distant. Keeping himself calm. Keeping the churning of his belly, the rumple in the pit of his stomach quiet. Ssshing it like a truculent child. Ray looked at his face. The pictures on his desk caught his eye. His son looked like him. That was his face over 25 years ago. His daughter was more her mother. But to see her end up like him tore at Ray. And Dana. His beautiful Dana. He would be strong for them. But he was weary. Weary of trying to be strong; so tired of hiding. That's what it was. Hiding himself away. Hiding himself behind a mountain. The energy to keep everything inside, buried more than 6 feet down, was fracturing him, splintering him. Weary of keeping a safe, safe distance.
His kids didn't know him. And his wife... When would it all change to hate?
Then a peace settled over him like oil over the ocean. And he leaned back to close his eyes. It was time to end these walls. Time to re-learn how to feel. And maybe more importantly to share himself.
And now 6 months later he is still struggling with it. The learning to be human, to break and let others see the break was harder than he thought. Struggling to not suffer in silence. It was a sick pride in thinking that he was harder and colder than the peak of Everest. That to touch him was to pull back with frostbite.
Dana. She may have given up on trying to save him. And that hurt. She may have realized that she needed to save herself. She would have to save herself and the kids.
He wanted to hate her. But he understood.
Luke had called him. Luke knew what he was feeling. If Ray would ever let himself reveal it to anyone. Jessie was with someone else and he knew Luke was hurting. Luke didn't know how to swallow the pain. Swallow it against the bitter taste and gag reflex as everything in you tries to reject it. Ray would never teach him. Better that Luke never learn. He liked the new Luke. The new Luke was smart and funny. And witty. And brave. And open. And the new Luke was a fighter.
Ray heard the words.
"Ray, you of all people should know that when you have something special, you don't just let it go," Luke said.
He couldn't help himself. He had too many years of practice. Too many years of playing the safe card, on holding on 16, and never trying for 21.
"I just hope it's not Don Quixote and the windmill," Ray said solemnly. Hating himself for saying it.
He crawled into bed later that night. Dana had her back to him. She was hugging the edge like a lifeline. The pillow width between them was miles across. He lay on his back. She wasn't sleeping, her breathing wasn't regular.
He wanted to feel close to her. Find a way to see her face to learn what she was thinking. But how?
"Dana," he said softly.
"Dana," he said again.
She turned onto her back and looked over at him.
"Is something wrong? Is it the kids?" she asked.
"No. I was just curious how you were doing? How your day went?"
"Oh, fine. Everything is fine."
He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder.
"You look just like when we met," he said, silently cursing himself for not being as witty as Jimmy or Luke.
"I do?" she asked half distracted. Her eyes seemed just a little bit distant.
He leaned in to kiss her. She turned to it and chastely kissed him back.
Ray pressed his lips against her as her mouth opened under his. His tongue surged in hard and wet.
He could taste her surprise.
She put her hands on his shoulder. He could feel her grip was unsure. Her touch was vacillating between holding him and pushing him away.
He put his hands underneath her pajama top reaching up to cup her breasts. His fingers rubbed against the nipples until they stood tall. He took his hands away and then opened the buttons to her top.
He leaned in and took the first nipple in his mouth. He ran his tongue across it and alternated between suckling and licking. He moved to the second to repeat the same treatment.
Dana's breathing quickened. She half stifled a groan. He pushed her pajama bottoms and panties down and off. He glanced his approval at the lithe line of her legs.
He ran his hands over her bottom kneading it. He moved his hand over to her pussy. She wasn't ready for him. He pushed his fingers in his mouth wetting them. He then put his fingers against her trying to tease her clit with his moistened fingers. She couldn't smother the moan from her lips.
He alternated rolling and swirling his fingers against her watching as her hips lifted and moved in time to the movement of his hand. When she was about to come he pulled back and moved up to tease her nipples again.
She let out a groan of frustration. Ray waited for a 10 count before his hand ventured down again. He found her clit and went back to his slow spirals. He pressed his index finger slowly into her. He pulled it slowly from her, wet and glistening, and added his middle finger. He ease them slowly back into her letting the heel of his hand grind into her. He slowly thrust into her, in and out, over and over, until her hips were clenching and unclenching. Until she was letting out little groans and sighs.
He pushed his pants down and moved over her. He had his cock in his hand guiding it into her. Slowly easing it into her. She pushed her hand on his shoulder and he paused waiting for her to adjust to him. And then he proceeded until he bottomed out and was in her as deeply as he could get.
Her sigh was soft and her moans were softer. He moved within her looking at her face.
He grimaced and moved quicker and harder feeling her movements beneath him. He paused and sucked on two fingers. He reached between them and rubbed at her clit bringing her closer to the edge. Then he moved again. Moving faster and grinding himself into her. He looked at her face, and moved harder, ramming himself into her. She gasped a little as her own movements picked up speed. Her legs tightened around him as little incoherent words were coming from her lips.
He felt her come, her body tightening as taut as piano wire, her voice gasping out a little moan. Then the clench of her pussy on him as he reared back and with 4 deep, hard thrusts, he came inside of her.
He moved off of her.
"Mmmmm, that was nice," she said.
"Yes, it was," he whispered.
"Good night," she said, rolling away from him. Turning the furlongs it took to bring her back to the edge of the bed. Her back was to him like a wall.
And as he was inside her, her eyes were desperately closed. Clenched tight like jaws on pliers. Not wanting to open up to see the reality of her world. Maybe she thought of someone else. Wished someone else was there inside her.
He lay on his side seeing her on her side. Straining to feel the warmth of her body next to his, yet not next to his. So far away.
And he was lonely. A loneliness that you can only feel at night. When you are next to someone who wishes she was anyplace but right next to you.
Breakfast was awkward. He was ready to head into the office but stopped for a glass of orange juice and an apple.
He sat at the table watching her help the kids get their breakfast.
"So what do you have planned today Dana?" he asked.
"I've some errands to run. May meet a couple friends for lunch at noon."
"So Judy what do you have planned today?" he asked his daughter.
She looked at him as if he was a bug under a microscope. She was confused. The only time he ever spoke to her was when she was in trouble. And he never asked a question. It was always a cold logical discussion.
"Nothing Daddy. Just school," she said.
"And you Timmy?" Ray asked.
"School," the little boy said in monosyllabic speak unsure how to answer his father.
"Are you feeling all right?" Dana asked.
"Me? I feel fine, why do you ask?"
"You're acting a little strange," Dana responded.
"What's strange about asking how your family is doing?" Ray queried.
"Well you never do it."
"Maybe that'll change. Maybe I'm learning a better way."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Dana replied.
She said it without malice in a voice as plain as whole milk. But it spoke volumes of disbelief.
He went to work and prepared for meeting with clients and reviewed case law. He took a minute to call Jimmy.
"Heard from Luke?" Ray asked.
"Nope, not yet. I think it'll work out. I think he'll find a way to make it work."
"I think you're right. I don't know where he got it, but he has massive cahones."
"So what's happening with you? How is Dana?"
"She's fine." Ray said.
"And the kids?"
"They're fine too."
The conversation stopped. The dead air was uneasy and a little unnerving.
"Jim if you had to describe me what would you say?" Ray asked.
"Just try it. If you had to. One word, a few words. What would you say?"
"I don't know. This is some kind of chick question isn't it? Don't tell me you watch Oprah now?"
"No Jim, I'm the lawyer, so just answer the question." Ray said with a touch of exasperation.
"Well, I guess the word is reserved."
"Reserved," Ray said, rolling it on his tongue. Reserved. He hung up.
It sounded like a curse. It sounded like a way to say cold. Cold as a coffin just outside the projects. He wasn't cold. He just didn't know. Reserved. It wasn't meant that way but it was hateful. A hateful word that should only be used for dictators and conquerors.
Ray made up his mind. He was going to take an early day. He was going to be home to greet his kids. Maybe he would pick Timmy up at nursery school. Talk to Judy about her day. And spend some time with Dana. Try to figure out what she was thinking.
"Kylie, I think I am going to leave after lunch today. Can you re-schedule everything for next week?"
Ray worked until 11:30. He opted to grab something to eat at home. He would curl up with a book until Dana got home. He loved to lose himself in a book.
He reached home and found Dana's car still in the drive. He walked in to the sound of her voice. She was alone but talking to someone on the phone. He could hear her side of the conversation.
"No Phillip I don't want to meet today. I just don't feel like lunch," she said.
"No. I'm sorry."
"Maybe sometime next week."
"No I can't promise. I'll speak to you later."
Ray walked into the family room watching her talk on the phone. Her back was to him. Her eyes were focused on the family pictures on the mantle.
"Listen I better go."
"Don't be pushy," she said with a husky laugh.
She turned and almost dropped the phone.
"Ray!" she said in a semi-scream.
"Dana," he responded calmly.
"Oh my god, you scared me."
"What are you doing home?" Dana asked.
"I just wanted to take a little time to spend with you guys," Ray answered honestly.
"Oh, are you not feeling well?"
"You keep asking me that," he said with a ghost of a smile. "I'm fine. It's not a sickness to want to spend time with your wife and kids."
She pasted a smile to her face forcing her lips to curl. It was unnatural and looked it but, he was willing to take what he could get.
"No, not at all," she answered.
"Was something wrong with the person on the phone? What happened to lunch?" Ray asked.
"No just a friend. I wasn't up for going to lunch today."
Ray didn't ask. He couldn't bear to know. He didn't want to.
"Okay. Is there something you want to do today? Just us?"
"Us?" she asked confused.
"You and me," he said quieter. His palms sweating like he was asking a girl to the school dance.
"I don't know."
"Since your lunch plans are not working out. How about I make us some lunch?"
"You make lunch?"
"I do know how to make sandwiches."
"Okay," her voice skeptical.
"Tuna fish, does that sound okay to you?"
"I'll need a knife."
"Knife for tuna fish? Maybe I should make lunch."
"Trust me," he looked deep into her eyes. He could see the shadow of a man on her corneas and wondered if that was him.
"Okay, it's in the knife block on the counter."
"All right let me put my briefcase in the office and I'll be back."
Ray walked in and put his briefcase on the desk. It nudged the mouse and the black of the screen broke apart to display their internet service provider's application. An email was up. It was an email account that he wasn't familiar with.
He couldn't help but read the message.
I look forward to lunch.
He re-read it. Then again and again. He tried to stop himself. He didn't want to know. He just couldn't stand to know.
He clicked the Start button and put the PC on Standby. He moved his briefcase to the window away from the desk. He moved it away from the damned computer.
He walked back to the kitchen.
"Something wrong?" Dana asked anxiously.
"Not a thing. Why do you ask?" Ray responded forcing a smile.
"Just checking," she said.
Ray pulled the Chef's knife from the block and grabbed a cutting board. He pulled a stalk of celery from the fridge and proceeded to dice it.
Dana watched in wonder. It was like he was pulling a rabbit from a hat. She could not have been more amazed. He opened a can of tuna and added a plop of Mayo. He sprinkled some paprika, roughly chopped some parsley, added the celery. He spooned it onto a couple rolls.
He smiled at her. It was so simple a thing but he couldn't recall the last time he did it.
He sliced her sandwich in half. And he put the two sandwiches on a plate and slid it to her on the kitchen table.
"This is good," she said in surprise.
"You doubt? I may not cook like Luke. But I know tuna sandwiches and PB&J. I lived off of them as a kid."
"You did?" she asked eagerly.
"Yes, a lifetime ago."
"I'll tell you some more tomorrow."
"Okay," she said in a disappointed voice.
"I promise. I will. Not all of it now. Tell me about the kids. Really tell me about them," he asked with an eagerness of his own.
"What do you want to know?"
"I know how they are doing academically. But I am trying to be more to them."
"Why?" she asked. It sounded like an accusation.
How could she understand that he was not always this way? That Chuck's death reminded him that people could come from where he came from and not be frozen or broken inside. Maybe Luke had that wakeup call sooner. But Ray was just glad that it happened.
"I just realized that I want to be more to them than I have been. More to you," he told her in a voice that trailed off.
She looked at him hard; that same look that Judy gave him that morning. Except Dana may have been just as happy to squash the bug under her heel.
"You have a tough road ahead. And some things may be impossible," she said with a firm set of her jaw.
"As a friend told me once, some things are worth fighting for, and you don't just let some things go."