Runaway Train
Chapter 42

Copyright© 2016 by Jay Cantrell

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 42 - Travis Blakely had a comfortable existence. He had a decent job and good friends. He was comfortable with what the future held for him. Then he ran into a girl he remembered from high school. His life got a lot more interesting - and infinitely more complicated

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Celebrity   Slow  

I woke up Sunday morning and offered Liz a soft kiss before I got up to start my day. It was barely 10 o’clock but I had a Sunday ritual to complete.

My mom had a host of activities to keep her busy on weekends and I didn’t want her to put off her plans because I was a laggard (even though it had been almost four in the morning before we cleaned up and went to sleep).

“I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you today,” Mom said when she answered the call.

“It’s Sunday, isn’t it?” I asked.

“You’re pretty busy these days,” Mom said.

“Never too busy for you,” I said. “I ... I look forward to these calls.”

“I do, too,” Mom admitted.

“Guess where I am?” I said.

“Nashville,” Mom answered.

“How... ?” I began.

“I follow Liz’s Twitter feed,” Mom told me. “I saw you drinking moonshine last night!”

I honestly couldn’t tell if she was upset or not.

“Did you tell him I’m a big fan?” she asked, laughing to herself at catching me off-footed again.

“I did,” I assured her. “I told him you and Dad took me to see him perform at Jamboree in the Hills before he made it big.”

I did not, however, mention that I had been dragged kicking and screaming (and bitching and whining) to the country music festival in the West Virginia panhandle.

“I’m surprised you remembered him,” Mom said.

“I didn’t,” I confessed. “I looked up his bio when Liz told me we were going for a visit. I saw that he sort of started out like Liz did. He played at Kennywood near Pittsburgh and at little festivals like the Jamboree. Did you know he grew up a few miles from there?”

“I knew that,” Mom said. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m sitting in front of a gigantic pool that has a freakin’ waterfall,” I said. “What do you think?”

“I think ... wait, did you say waterfall?” Mom wondered.

“A gigantic freakin’ waterfall, Mom,” I said. “You should see this place. It’s huge. We had to take a golf cart just to tour the property. When she showed me the house, I sort of wished we had the cart again. She has something like 15 people living on the property fulltime and a dozen more that work here but don’t live here. I swear to God, it’s like being transported back to a Southern plantation ... without the slavery thing.”

“Liz has worked very hard to get where she is,” Mom said.

“I know she has,” I said.

“I don’t know that you do,” Mom countered.

“I’ve seen it, Mom,” I cut in. “I have seen with my own eyes exactly how much effort Liz puts into her craft. In fact, I would bet that she works harder than even you think she does. She’s earned everything she’s gotten.”

“I always had a soft spot for Lizzie,” Mom said quietly.

“I know you did,” I said. “You transferred it to me. Hey, before I forget, you’re going to have a new child to spoil in a few days and a new baby to hold in a few months.”

“Travis, you really need to preface statements like that before you utter them,” Mom said. “If Sarah hadn’t told me about Susan, I might have drawn the wrong impression.”

It took me a moment to get the gist of Mom’s words.

“Oh, no!” I said. “That’s not in the cards.”

“Not soon, I hope,” Mom said.

“Not soon,” I agreed. “We’re flying out to San Diego tomorrow morning to help Susan and Chris get Amber’s room ready. The ... the foster mom is in a bad way.”

“I’ve heard,” Mom said. “That little girl is very lucky to go from one loving household to another. It just doesn’t work out that way very often.”

“I know,” I replied. “The foster father really wanted to keep Amber but Social Services wouldn’t even consider it.”

“That can’t be a surprise to you,” Mom said. “Social work is not a lucrative profession. It doesn’t draw very many top-flight students. Instead it gets the mediocre students and the students too lazy to succeed in a better-paying profession. In that regard, it’s no different than teaching.”

“It’s hard to fathom that Liz makes millions of dollars a year to sing and you get paid $41,000 to impart information to the next generation of leaders,” I grumbled.

“Do not let Liz hear you say things like that,” Mom suggested.

“Those are her words, Mom,” I said. “She said if she hadn’t met you when she did, there is no way that she would be where she is now. You were the perfect person at just the right time. You showed interest in her; you showed her that she was important. She told me about the cupcakes.”

Mom sighed.

“Honey, I’ve done that with a lot more students than just Lizzie Larimer,” she said. “That’s what I meant about how hard she worked. She didn’t have all the advantages that you did.”

“I still had to work for what I got,” I said somewhat defensively.

“Oh, Sweetheart, that isn’t what I’m saying,” Mom replied. “But you had parents that took an interest in your life. In fact, you had parents that took a bit too much interest in your life. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure you had any advantage either.”

“Sure I did,” I said. “I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days about how I grew up. Maybe it’s just growing up a little but I finally understand everything you did for me. I’ve never said thank you and I should have.”

“I’ve been thinking about those days, too,” Mom said. “We put a lot of pressure on you. It’s only in hindsight that we expected perfection from you. You were a kid and you were supposed to make mistakes. In a lot ways, I’m happy that we kept you away from the things that derail so many lives up here. In another way, I wish we’d let you experience some of the stuff that kids are supposed to experience. I think it would have made the past few years a lot easier for you.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” I said. “Living in the past never works. That’s something Liz has had to learn.”

“I’m sure,” Mom said. “Travis, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to interfere in your relationship but...”

“You’re going to interfere in my relationship,” I said, laughing.

“Yes,” Mom admitted. “I just don’t want you to think it.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

Mom took a deep breath.

“I spent the majority of your teenage years watching girls like Lizzie Larimer mooning over you,” she said. “After you left home ... you didn’t treat your girlfriends very well. You used your looks or your wit or ... whatever ... around girls that had some of the same issues that Lizzie had. I don’t know if you meant to or if you felt like you’d lost something when you couldn’t play baseball again. I only know it happened. I just hope you’ll remember the words your father told you about how to treat a lady.”

“I have,” I said. “We’ve both had to confront some of the mistakes we’ve made in the past few years. In a way, Liz has helped me realize what I was doing. I’m not a bad person, Mom. I didn’t purposefully set out to exploit anyone. But I understand that I tended to gravitate to women that ... that felt they were lucky to be with me.”

“Honey, I’m biased, of course, but I think any woman would be lucky to have you as a boyfriend,” Mom said. “What you need to understand that they expect you to feel as lucky as they feel. That’s the important thing.”

“Liz has helped with that,” I told her. “Mom, when you see her again, you’re going to see that she’s same person inside that you remember from all those years ago. I wish I had been mature enough back then to realize how important that is. Instead, I focused on bra size and popularity.”

“You were a teenage boy,” Mom said, laughing. “I want you to know that I would have actively discouraged you if you had shown any romantic interest in Lizzie back then. It would have been the first of many unequal relationships in your life if you had reciprocated her feelings.”

“But you’re OK with it when the roles are reversed?” I asked.

“You’re equal now,” Mom cut in. “Again, I’m biased, but I always knew you’d succeed. Perhaps it was wishful thinking but it never occurred to me that you wouldn’t. I thought that Liz had all the tools to succeed ... and I’d never heard her sing a note. She was bright and she was inquisitive. But she had to mature and so did you. Now you have. Just be certain that you both know how lucky you are to find each other again. Don’t exploit her past mistakes and don’t let her exploit yours. That’s all I’m saying.”

I was still thinking about Mom’s words when Liz came out to where I sat. I could see that she’d spent some time in her personal gym because she wore workout gear and had a fine sheen of sweat on her face and a towel around her neck.

She took a seat on my lap and grimaced.

“My butthole hurts,” she announced. She put her hand over my mouth before I could say anything. “Don’t you dare apologize! Last night ... last night put to rest all the ghosts that have followed me for years. I am happy about what we did ... and I’m looking forward to the next time.”

She pulled her hand away and kissed me softly on the lips. I wondered what anal sex had to do with putting ghosts to rest but decided it didn’t matter if I understood. Liz was cheerful and, as her boyfriend, it was my job to keep her that way.

She sat back and looked at me when she ended the kiss.

“First things first,” she said. She picked up the phone that she’d put down on the table and extended her arm upward. She put her face next to mine and took a picture.

“Smile next time, dork,” she said when she looked at the result. “Can you at least pretend that you’re happy to have a sexy girl on your lap? I’m going to put it up on Twitter.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. Liz wore only a grey sports bra and a pair of Lycra running shorts.

“I’m sure,” she told me. “Sarah sent me a text last night. The pictures of us with Ben, Kim and the kids were a big hit. It goes back to what I told you. I’m finally free, Travis.”

I saw the side of her mouth turn downward and she picked up my glass of sweet tea and took a drink.

“You don’t get it,” she said with a sigh.

“Not really,” I admitted.

“Last night, for the first time in my life, I truly let go,” she said. “There was nothing hidden. You’ve seen every facet of my personality. You know I can go from a nice slow ride in the morning to being pinned up against the wall of the shower that night; you know I can call you a prick and then turn around and tell you how much I love you a second later. You ... you get to see all of it. You still love me. You loved me yesterday just as much when I got pissy and stormed away as you did a second before when I was rubbing your shoulder. You loved me last night when I was totally uninhibited just as much as you did an hour before when I was trying to think of a way to help Amber’s foster mother. Travis, nobody gets all of me.”

She sighed again and glanced toward the pool.

“I don’t like to bring up old boyfriends to you,” she said. “But I can’t make you understand without explaining things better. I can’t explain it without talking about the past. I was as close to Stanton as I’ve been to anyone ... except for you. He never got all of me. Really, he got about half of me. He never got the girl that wanted to make a video while she got butt-fucked. He never got to see the girl that throws temper tantrums. He got sweet and kind all the time. In bed, it wasn’t exactly missionary with the lights off but he didn’t get ... the no-taboo sex that we get. I knew his ego couldn’t handle it if I got nasty with him so he didn’t get to see ... the slutty girl I like to be sometimes. That’s the thing about us, Travis. There is nothing off-limits. There are no topics we can’t talk about; no boundaries we can’t explore. You’ve seen the good and the bad and you still love me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I wanted a guy that could handle everything I am.

“In the bathroom last night before I came out I was scared that I was about to screw up everything. I was worried that we ... you ... had fallen for me without really understanding things. I wanted to show you the last side of who I am before we got to a point where we couldn’t escape.”

“I was already there,” I said.

“Yeah, I know that now,” Liz said. “I was, too. I’ve been there since ... oh, maybe an hour after I saw you again. It’s different, though. I ... I had spent most of my life looking for someone that would treat me like the guy I remembered from high school; the guy that would stand up to bullies or tell a scared girl that he knew she was going to knock them dead the first time she walked on a stage. I wanted the guy that had no reason in the world to pay a second’s worth of attention to me but always smiled or waved when he saw me. I got some of it from time to time but never all of it. But now, you’re here.”

“I was never that guy,” I said.

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