Chapter 18

Claire lay spread eagle on the mussed covers of her bed. Her vibrator was in her right hand and she ran the tip of it across the dried semen on her belly. She hadn't showered, and didn't plan to until the next morning. Something made her want to leave him on her skin during the night.

She'd been mildly astonished when, after he taught her how to grip and move her hand, his penis had erupted like a geyser. His pitiful groans made her feel pride and an almost overwhelming desire to take that spurting thing inside her. She knew what the original dildo had felt like, and what her vibrator and rabbit felt like. What would he feel like deep inside her?

It was because of that desire that she'd made him dress and hustled him out. Her hurry was mitigated by the kisses she gave him, still dressed in only her panties, just inside her front door.

"Thank you," she whispered, after the last kiss.

"No, no ... thank you," he said.

"We'll do this again," she promised.

His face lit up. She felt that ball of heat where she wanted something thick and long and hard inside her.

"Go!" she panted.

As soon as she'd locked the door she'd run back to her bedroom. Pausing only to strip off her panties, she dug in the drawer for the vibrator and flopped onto the bed.

She hadn't turned it on, yet. She was letting the anticipation swell in her belly as she dragged the tip across what he'd left behind.

When she finally moved it downward, her fingers met moisture as they dragged through her pubic hair. She lifted her head to see sticky white globs of his semen there. Those globs were still wet, still slippery. Knowing it was foolish to do, she smeared those white globs around with the tip of the vibrator and then, holding her breath, she slid it into her in one long lunge.

Her hips arched. Part of him was there, inside her. It was a dangerous bit of him, but she didn't care. He wanted to marry her! He couldn't live without her! She groaned as she slid the thick thing in and out. If she hadn't chased him away, this could be his phallus making her feel such stabs of delight.

She needed relief, and reached to turn the base of the device. The humming of its motor hit her ears at the same time the vibrations spread joy inside her.

The orgasm was sweet and long.

But it didn't satisfy her completely.

She lay there afterwards. She knew what would satisfy her completely.

She decided to call Cuddles on Monday and see if there was some way to speed things up.

Claire spent Sunday at Cindy's house, trying to do whatever she could to think about something other than Chad. To that end, she called him and said she wanted to wait until later in the week to run. He said that was fine, and they hung up. She felt guilty about feeling relief that she wouldn't have to see him again until Thursday.

Work on Monday and Tuesday were full days, primarily because of the lollygagging she'd done the previous Friday, while thinking about what Saturday night might be like. No one noticed, but she blushed several times as she relived what had happened after the play, in the French bordello. As a result she wasn't able to find time to call Angela to see where things were until Wednesday. Even then, the conversation was short because Angela had an appointment to go to.

"Things are proceeding apace," said the lawyer. "Be patient. These things take time."

She felt a little depressed after she hung up. Slowly, the passion she'd been plagued with seeped out of her and she was able to think about things with less emotion and more practical reflection.

She didn't want the house. It held no memories for her except bad ones involving John. Better to sell it and find something else, where she could start fresh, as her life seemed to have started fresh. She could make new memories in a new house.

She liked her job, so there was nothing to think about there. The only real friends she had were Cindy and Danny. Any others who she had called "friend" in the past hadn't come out of the woodwork to see how she was doing, so she didn't think of them as real friends. Not even John's side of the family had contacted her. Perhaps that had been the result of terminal embarrassment, but in any case, she didn't remember any of them, so it didn't really matter.

She thought it was a little sad that all she had in life were work, Cindy and Danny, running, and ... Chad. And Chad was mixed up in running to the point that running without him seemed wrong somehow.

She admired Chad because he gave of his time and talent to the kids he taught, and the players he coached. She remembered that she'd told Cindy Old Claire probably volunteered for everything. Cindy had said that wasn't the case. Maybe New Claire should look into that. Her job was fine, but all her accomplishments there were tied to company profits. She needed something in her life that made her feel like her life mattered ... that she was doing something good for other people. If nothing else, it would use up some of the time she couldn't figure out what to do with.

So. She could get a new place to live. She could find some worthy cause to volunteer some of her time to. Maybe something involving running. Those things would give her a framework upon which to build her new life.

Now the only problem she had was ... what to do about Chad.

Thursday, October the first, felt like things were back to normal for Claire. Work went smoothly and her earlier trepidation about seeing Chad, and how that might make her feel, had dissipated.

She dressed at work in the locker room, and then jogged to the school. The weather was unseasonably warm, so her regular spandex felt fine. She found Chad in his room, grading papers.

"I have to finish this," he said."Can you wait?"

"I'll just run on the track until you're ready," she said.

"Great. It shouldn't take more than half an hour."

She went back outside and started running, not counting the laps, just putting one foot out in front of the other. There were some kids playing with a Frisbee on the field, but she paid no attention to them. For the first time in a long time her mind went into neutral, as it had usually done before she ran with Chad that first time. Now her thought processes were subliminal, allowing her subconscious to concentrate on one issue without others intruding. She wasn't aware of it as things got sorted out, and messages were sent to various places in her brain, where they were stored as memories, feelings, wants and desires.

When Chad joined her, pulling up beside her, they left the track without discussing it and started off down the street.

A few minutes later looked over at him.

"I love you, too," she said. Her eyes widened and her step faltered. She'd only meant to think that, not say it.

"I'm glad," he said. "Except 'glad' doesn't convey what I'm feeling. I'm not sure there is an adjective that would convey what I'm feeling."

She started to tell him it had slipped out, but then didn't. Why should she? She'd meant it. She knew that now. She had no idea where that solid belief had come from. She still felt all the stresses in her life, but somehow the fact had filtered through that she loved him.

"I feel it ... but I don't know what that means," she said.

"Me either," he said. "We can figure that out as time goes by."

"I called Cuddles. She said to be patient."

"You want to get some ice cream?"

"What? When?"

"Right now. There's a Baskin Robins about eight blocks that way." He pointed off to their right.

"Why now?" she asked, confused by his abrupt change of subject.

"I just feel like ice cream, that's all. If you don't want to, that's fine."

"No. Actually, some mint chocolate chip would be really good right now."

"Crap," he said. "I didn't bring any money."

"Me either," she said. They ran on, and then she said, "My house is closer. We could just go there and I'll get some folding money."

"Okay."

Fifteen minutes later she got the key from her secret hiding place and opened the door. He followed her in.

"Won't be but a minute," she said, heading for the kitchen.

"Can I use the bathroom?"

"Sure," she said, over her shoulder.

He elected to use the master bathroom, which was why he entered her bedroom. About three minutes later, when he hadn't joined her, she called out for him.

"In here," came his voice from her bedroom.

"You better not be lying on the bed naked," she warned, heading that way.

She found him holding her rabbit, turning it in his fingers, examining it closely.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, her voice hard.

"It was lying on the bedspread. Is this what I think it is?"

"Shit," she said, softly. "I must have left it lying out this morning. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? It's your house. You can leave things lying around anywhere you want to."

"I'm ready," she said, trying to ignore the situation.

"I'll just put it back where I found it," he said. He gave it one more curious look over and laid it gently on the bed. "I have so many questions."

"Well, they'll just have to wait. I'm a little embarrassed right now."

"Why? You're a big girl. You have needs. And since I'm not able to fill those needs yet, it's only natural that you'd have to find some other way to do that."

"You're very understanding," she said. "Are you going to ask to watch while I use it?"

He turned his head to stare at her, hearing something in her voice that warned him.

"Why would you ask me a thing like that?"

"John wanted to watch," she said.

"Can I tell you the truth?" he asked.

Her face tensed and she frowned, but nodded.

"I'd rather help you use it than watch you use it."

"You're kidding," she said.

"No. One of my new favorite things is helping you feel good like that."

"He masturbated while he watched," said Claire.

"You let him watch?" Chad raised an eyebrow.

"It was soon after I got out of the hospital. I wouldn't let him touch me, but I knew he was my husband. I didn't know what else to do."

"And he watched you use ... that." Chad's voice was flat.

"Not that one. It was a different one. He destroyed it when he tore up the bedroom."

"Good."

"Good? Why would you say that?"

"Call it jealousy. The thought of you using something while he stood there and watched ... I'm just glad it's gone, that's all."

"It's not gone. I left the pieces over at Cindy's. I'd forgotten about that until now."

"Why on Earth would you leave them there? Why would you even take them there?"

"I don't know. I guess I wanted somebody to know what he'd done."

"So Cindy saw them."

"Danny did too."

"Well, suddenly I don't feel so bad about invading your privacy and finding that," he said, shoving a thumb at the rabbit.

Claire had been examining her feelings about all this, and was somewhat surprised to find that, after her initial embarrassment, she didn't really feel upset that Chad knew she used a sex toy. After all, she'd alluded to having something that used batteries. She suspected that Old Claire and New Claire were butting heads again. The fact that he hadn't salivated and objectified her, like John had, also made her feel better. She felt good enough, in fact, to try teasing him.

"Does that mean I get to go through your things to find your blow up doll?"

He missed it.

"I don't have a blow up doll. All I have is a picture of you."

"You have a picture of me? Where'd you get it?"

He tapped his head with one finger.

"It's up here," he said. "It's of you in that beige dress. Okay, two pictures. There's another one of you dropping that dress, right here in this room. All I have to do is close my eyes and I see that in my head."

Something made her look at the front of his running shorts. She could see his length there, canted to one side. He saw her looking.

"As you can see, the pictures work very well."

She felt the urge to give him another picture, one of her taking off her running outfit in front of him. She pushed that urge away.

"Do you still want that ice cream, or did that spoil the mood?" she asked, glancing at the rabbit.

"Not hardly. I have decided that, when you use that, you think of me. No, don't say anything. Don't spoil the fantasy. I'm ready to go. Do you still want mint chocolate chip?"

"Desperately," she said.

"How about we go in the car? You drive," he said, adjusting his erection right there in front of her. "This thing might interfere with me using the pedals."

Young people, those in their teens, are often advised to date many people instead of becoming exclusive with only one. The teens never understand that, because it's just natural to identify one person you like being with more than any others. It's also natural to want to spend more time with that person. And, despite what adults might think, it is entirely possible for young people to fall in love. The problem with that, and the reason those adults keep saying to date lots of people, is that there is a natural progression when two people are attracted to each other. It doesn't require they be "in love," though that helps. The natural progression is purely biological, though, and that biology insists that, sooner or later, the couple mate. It's really just that simple. Spend enough time with a member of the opposite sex and, assuming you don't hate each other, nature will encourage you to mate.

Modern society has invented all manner of ways that are supposed to foil nature's sexual impetus. Girls join clubs and wear purity rings and make vows to save their virginity for "that special person." Parents set curfews, or chaperone youngsters. Dating may be delayed by parental edict, until the teen is "old enough" to control his or her urges. Religion warns of dire consequences for the soul, should one slip and succumb to temptation. Schools teach abstinence. Roadblocks to the natural order of things are thrown up everywhere, and all of them are based on the honest understanding (by adults) that entering into a sexual relationship too early can have a detrimental effect on a young person's future. Having babies too early can remove options. Sexual diseases can destroy a life. Heart break, even though it's not physical, can still leave scars.

It's all for a good cause. But none of it works. Nature is much too strong for mere humans to resist. Teenagers don't want to resist. They are all too eager to jump into what they think is a secret adults want to keep all for themselves. And even when they do want to resist, teenagers don't understand the futility of trying to do that.