Chapter 13

Barry’s turn:

Turns out that this works pretty well. Simple. No screaming, hollering ... she hasn’t gotten mad at me, I haven’t gotten mad at her. Jessica’s just, I guess – placid.

Her job situation. I listen to her stories about work, add a few snippets I’ve heard elsewhere, I completely understand that she wants to get a new job. I don’t have any compunctions. I don’t think I’d make a shift before I’d be running the idiots out, both customers AND staff.

I tried to tell her that she doesn’t have to work. That’s not Jessica’s plan, though. She’s adamant. I toyed with the idea that maybe she was afraid of having all the time on her hands. Maybe that’s part of it. However, I look at those green eyes closely staring into mine and I read determination, among other things, so if she wants to work, let her work.

I get home well before the end of her shift, so I have time to do a little housework, tend to the cats, read the mail, etc.

Phone rings. Jessica.

“Hi, sweetness,” I say.

“Hey, baby. How’d your day go?”

“Nothing notable,” I replied. “Yours?”

“Better than yesterday.”

“I’m looking at the kitchen right now. Any ideas?”

“Sushi? That Japanese place?”

“We can do that.”

“Let me come in and get into street clothes. I’ll see you in a bit.”

‘A bit’ was an hour and a half. She calls me when she knows I’m likely at home but before I start cooking. This means I get to pop open my MacBook and catch up on the day’s news. That used to be completely adequate bit of my daily routine. Now, though...

I leaned back in my recliner, my laptop open, my eyes closed, thinking. I MISS the little thing. I miss the sassy head of hair, the green eyes, the way her lips fit when she smiles. Thinking of her, I smile. Wasn’t like this in the first marriage, not that I can remember.

My reverie is modified when a cat jumps up on the back of the recliner and slides down to insinuate himself against my arm. Never understood cats. I don’t know ... you’d think that Harv would know which way my elbow bends by this time. Maybe he does, and this is just a way to tell me exactly how much I’m being manipulated, because I have to reach over with the opposite hand to pet him, acknowledging his head-butts.

That’s where I was when the door opened and Jess bounced in.

“I’d get up, but Harv has me trapped,” I said.

“We gotta move Harv,” she grinned. “I need your lap.”

I put the laptop on the end table. Harv saw Jess backing up and vacated his spot. Jess curled up. I love my cats, you know, but neither of them gives me the feelings of a Jessica in my lap.

Our arms automatically wrapped each other.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“Not as bad as some,” she said. “Kiss me several times and then shove me up the hall to change clothes. I hate going out for dinner in my burger place uniform.”

We traded kisses interlaced with silly words for each other, then I did as ordered, shoved her off my lap, then chased her up the hall into the bedroom. A blouse and jeans replaced the uniform, but getting there required that she get almost undressed and I almost got her into bed amid giggles and protestations.

Every delightful romp doesn’t have to end in penetration. That was her statement as we locked the door behind us. “This is just part of it, Barry. When that happens like it did, I know it’s because you love me in ALL the ways.”

“I do.”

“I heard you say that before,” she smiled, sliding into the car.

We made the trek to the restaurant. Two different rolls, two different donburi, plates sliding around the table, each of us sampling the other’s choices, chatting with the chef on a slow weeknight, getting his personally blended shichimi togarashi to sprinkle about. We paid our bill, left.

“You know, sweetheart,” she said, “I never could relax when I went out to eat, back when it was the gang.”

“Really?”

“Yeah ... always somebody who wanted to be an ass. Somebody who looked down on the people waiting on them...”

“Easy to do when you’re living with your momma...”

“Or working a similar job elsewhere,” she injected. “Or somebody’d try to be funny, or just plain obnoxious. You and me ... just like tonight ... we talked with the guy who runs the restaurant ... learned stuff, had fun, when we left, everybody was still happy.” She paused. “No, happier than when we got there.”

“I’m still not that boring old guy that my daughter claims me to be?”

“She never said you were boring, baby. Never did. And I find you endlessly fascinating.”

I glanced sideways at her. My Jessica. Smiling.

“You need to get me home now or we’re liable to create an incident right out in public.”

“Don’t threaten me, little green-eyed girl,” I said. “Caring females turn me on.”

I got her hand holding the inside of my right bicep as we finished the drive home. It’s a good feeling to me, that she desires physical contact. Me? I desire Jessica.

“What are you thinking, baby?” she asked.

“You. Me. A public incident.”

“That doesn’t involve gunplay?”

“Yeah ... Maybe something hot and wet...” I returned, a picture forming in my mind to go with the erection forming in my pants.

“And slippery?”

“You’re getting there.”

Giggle. “I think you want me for my body, sir.”

“But it’s a NEAT little body.”

“Hmmmm,” she said, slipping into a role. “You seem like a decent guy. You may get my body before the evening’s over.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I fed you dinner, huh?”

Tiny giggle. “A full belly starts all sort of pleasant thoughts about fulfilling other appetites.”

“I like a girl with a vocabulary,” I said, not sure where I needed to take this conversation.

“Thank you. I like a man who’s fluent in French, okay?”

“I can’t actually speak French but I’m a great fan of various aspects of their culture.”

“I’d be interested in what parts of French culture a nice guy like you would find interesting,” she said.

We hardly got the door locked behind us when we got home. The cats came in, saw what was going on, departed for safer locales. One might have thought she was a demanding little thing, but I honestly don’t know who demanded what. I know that the two of us ended up scampering up the hall to the bathroom, each with a hand over drippy genitalia.

Giggle. “You can pass that spot off as the result of a cat accident,” she laughed, only now stripping her blouse and bra off.

“You’re gonna kill me, Jess.”

“Whaaa? You KNOW how you get me going.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh,” I said. “That little game...”

“Just a little tease, that’s all.” She was grinning. “I learn more and more. Like that ‘little girl’ thing the other night...”

“That, too. Like I need more reasons to go out of my mind over you.”

“We’re still newlyweds, huh?”

I smiled. “Yeah.”

“And we didn’t know each other that long before we got married.”

“That’s true.”

“Barry, we didn’t make a mistake.”

“I didn’t. I worry that you...”

“Not a chance. You get me. You let me be quirky, like this evening...”

“I like you quirky.”

“I saw that. Don’t understand it.”

“I dunno, Jess. Maybe I just always tried keeping things inside the lines.”

“‘S what Megan said. ‘My dad’s very conventional.’ You know, buddy? I like having that ‘conventional’ to go back to. But you know what?”

“What?” I always wonder what’s next with Jess.

“You handle ‘quirky’ quite well.” She wrapped me up in her arms. “And you’re who I want. Megan’s mom’s an idiot.” She seared my lips with a kiss. “Really, really stupid. Didn’t know where to look. Probably couldn’t act worth a crap. You had no innocent little girl. No confused innocent young lady. No ... uh ... ME!”

“You,” I spoke softly, “Adorable, delightful you.”

Smile. “Take ‘delightful me’ to the living room and see if we can find something decent on TV. Or maybe a movie we’ve both seen a dozen times.”

We settled on a movie from her library – The Professional. Lots of violence.

“Natalie Portman when she was, like, twelve,” Jess told me. “It’s refreshing to find a movie where I actually have bigger tits than the leading lady.”

“Shame on you,” I said. “Making me think about a twelve-year-old’s titties.”

“Think about THESE!” she giggled, pulling her nightshirt up.

“I think those are perfect,” I said, grabbing her, the reaction she was expecting. I nipped one, sucking.

She squealed. It’s for show. Her hands were on the back of my head. “Gahhhhh!”

I straightened up. “You okay?”

Kiss. “Mmmm-hmmm. You know how I am. At first I thought, you know, Megan’s mom, HUGE bazongas. How was little flat-chested me supposed to compete?”

“Agile mind. Those eyes. Your titties’re delectable ... Of course that wasn’t the FIRST attraction. You’re this little pixie thing with exotic eyes...”

“Thank you, Gramma,” she said.

“Wherever they came from. And you...”

Her lips fastened to mine. “Careful, sir...”

“Careful?”

“You may end up with me in your lap.”

“Horrors...”

She slapped my thigh. “Watch the movie!”

I spent the remainder of the movie idly tousling her short hair, occasionally caressing a shoulder, both within reach without either of us moving. Perfect evening.

Got more perfect when we went to bed. Propped up on an elbow, she was kissing me, I was playing with the hair on the nape of her neck.

“I’m due for a trim,” she said. “Unless you hate it and you want it longer.”

“Nope. Delightful. Charming.”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah,” I said. “That, too. Since the first time I saw it, I wanted to play with it.”

“I could be blonde...”

“Why?”

“That whole ‘blonde’ thing...”

“You need to stop that,” I said.

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to improve on perfection.”

She giggled as she kissed me. “Reassure me sometimes...”

“You, my little Jess ... You’re amazing. Beautiful. Skirt blown up. All that. Hair? I love it.”

“You act like it’s a fetish...”

“Maybe it is. Didn’t know. Goes with your face, with your smile, with your eyes...”

“Hair,” she said. “A hair fetish. Wonder how that’s supposed to work.” She slipped atop me.

Feather, I’m thinking. She’s like a delightful, wiggly feather there. That much, she’s absolutely sure of.

I have her head cupped in my hands, guiding her kisses.

“Okay, bud,” she giggled. “Hair fetish, huh?”

“Perhaps. Have not totally analyzed.”

“Then analysis is in order.” She started sliding down. “Pants off.”

Somewhere we’d decided on sleeping in briefs and T-shirts for both of us. Now she wanted my pants off. Easy. I noted in the midst of my contortions that she was pulling hers off as well. Then she skinned off the cotton T-shirt she favored for sleeping.

“Whatever do you have in mind?” I queried.

“Just a bit of an experiment.” She giggled. “I was hoping to start off with you soft, but...”

“Baby,” I said, “You, in bed, naked ... Erection is a given.”

“Well,” she countered, “let’s see what works.”

“You’re ... babyyyy...” Jess did things with her face at my crotch level that I’d not been able to imagine before I met her. Now she was back down there. I can’t tell if my eyes actually crossed under her flurry of nips and nibbles and sucks. She drives me crazy.

Then – “Now let’s see if THIS works!” and she turned her head sideways and rubbed her hair over my dick and balls, tittering to herself all the while. She punctuated the feelings of her bouncy hair by turning her face to provide another nip or suck.

At about the third iteration, when her lips left me and the hair returned, I erupted. With a squeal, she turned, gulped me down.

I have to mention that it is a truly delightful experience to have one’s orgasm finished by a pair of giggling lips. I was speechless, my ability to communicate having been reduced to a series of grunts and sighs. Then, as was our custom, she climbed back up my torso, kissing all the way, ending on my lips. When my hands cradled her head...