Chapter 12: Easing

Diane established the new rule that she wouldn’t read a story to Valerie if she made a great fuss about going to bed. Valerie, who clearly enjoyed her power of choice, decided to cooperate this time. Diane read her a story, and then Eric kissed her good night. Even so, Eric had enough fewer things to do before bed that he was lying in bed when Diane came in wearing her robe over her new nightie. When she took the robe off, Eric was visibly excited.

“Like it?” she asked.

“And how!”

“Want to help me take it off?” Without answering, he was out of bed and around the foot to help her lift a few ounces of silk in seconds.

When he turned from hanging it up, Eric began kissing her. He put his hands on either side of her head and pulled it forward and down to kiss her forehead. As he did so, the tip of his erection touched her abdomen. When he tipped her face up a bit to kiss the tip of her nose, her nipples felt his chest hair. When he tilted her face up and kissed her mouth, both his erection and her breasts were pressed between their bodies.

His mouth plundered hers, and his hands roamed down her back to grip her glutes. She gripped his, too, and they both pulled to make their connection tighter. Heat poured from his tongue in her mouth and pooled where her abdomen was feeling the length of his penis pressed into it.

Eric was going wild. God knew, Diane was arousing in hospital whites or even a parka. Dressed in that skimpy nightie that covered her secrets but teased him to uncover them, she’d made his blood boil. He suspected that steam was coming off the top of his head, but he was too busy to check. He turned her around and kissed her ear and her neck. There was so much to touch, and he only had two hands. He cupped her breasts and played with the firm nipples. He stroked both hands down over her stomach to the hair on her mound, pulling her firm butt against his leg and her back against his erection.

Then he parted her folds to strike oil. He stroked her there with the middle finger of his right hand while his left hand returned to her lovely, soft breast and its responsive, hard nipple.

Diane felt the sensations his fingers and mouth gave her as only an addition to what she felt on her own. His firm muscles pressed against her shoulders and against her glutes. Something else firm -- and hot -- pressed against her back in between. Then his tongue was teasing the sensitive spot on the side of her neck, and his fingers were stroking her labia and teasing her clitoris.

Heat poured into her from all these contact points. It pooled in her pelvis and threatened to overflow. She had intended to arouse him, and she had succeeded. Now, however, her own arousal was threatening to peak before his did. Her legs were too weak to support all this feeling.

“We do have a bed, you know,” she said.

He let go and pulled back the sheet immediately. He held her arm while she dropped down. He kissed her breast while climbing in himself. The touch was lovely. It was even necessary, but it did slow his progress. When he kissed lower, she pulled him up by his underarms. She didn’t need any more stimulation. She needed...

“You,” she said. She pulled up her feet in the bed and let her knees drop outward. He parted her labia with his fingers, and then he drove inward. She felt him all the way up to her throat.

“Yes,” she said. She let go of his chest to clasp his glutes.

“Yes,” he answered. He was driving in and out of her rapidly and forcefully. She was driven down so hard each time that the mattress bounced her back. Just maybe, it was her own thrusts up against him. His glutes were flexing in her hands, and his chest was scraping across her breasts. The heat was delightful, and the heat was unbearable.

She cried out as the flame burst within her entire body. He drove through her contractions twice. Then he pounded her down into the mattress.

“Gah!” he gasped. Then he was still with all his weight on her pelvis, and he throbbed deep inside her.

He was lying on her and gasping into her ear. He was heavy, but he was her darling. And she was gasping, too. She was grateful when he finally moved aside and grateful that he was still touching her.

“I’m sorry,” Eric said. “I sort of lost control there.”

“I’m glad you lost control there.” It was perverse, to say nothing of hypocritical, to so enjoy having him in her power when she so resisted being in his power. So, she contained contradictions. What else was new? She loved him, and she feared him. Was what she feared most about him was his love for her? Or was it her love for him?

“Life would be so simple,” she said, “if only our genitals were involved. They get along fine.”

“‘Life would be so simple,’ says the woman who begins thirty-six hours of indenture at six tomorrow morning. Resumes rather.”

“Well, it would be simpler.”

“That it would. Pangloss was wrong. It’s the most complex of all possible worlds. Seems a pretty good one right now, though.” Well, it seemed a pretty good one to her, too. It must be even better for him; he didn’t have semen dripping out of him and pooling under his seat. It was his semen, too. Well, most of it was out by now.

“Move back a bit, will you?” she asked.

“You going to follow?” But he did move back a generous distance. Rather than answer, she moved off the wet spot and into his lap. He wrapped her in his arms.

“It’s much more complex than is possible,” she said. “Get the light.” He did, and she fell asleep to the feeling of his silent chuckle against her back.

The alarm that morning, if unwelcome, wasn’t torture. She decided in the shower that she was actually happy. At breakfast, Mrs. Grant served her two pancakes but only one slice of bacon.

“If she can have two pancakes,” Eric asked, “why can’t I? I weigh much more than she does.”

“She isn’t going to have a second breakfast,” Mrs. Grant answered. “You’ll eat with Val, too. What do you say, Doctor?” Apparently, she was the deciding vote.

“Have another pancake with your daughter,” she said. “You should only have one, though.”

“Is a second glass of orange juice okay?” Mrs. Grant asked.

“You can have too much orange juice. Hell! You can have too much water. I don’t think two glasses is too much, though,” she said to Mrs. Grant. “You don’t have an ulcer, do you?” she asked Eric. She thought of all the executive decisions he made and all the worrying he did about Valerie -- some of it legitimate, some of it needless.

“No.”

“Why not?” He was the classic Type-A personality.

“Give it time. I’ve only known you seven weeks,” he said. She laughed at his dourness, and after a minute, he laughed, too.

“God, woman, you’re good for me.” Was she good for him or was she giving him an ulcer? She and Whitman weren’t the only ones containing contradictions.

Later in the car, he complained, “Really, you know, it isn’t fair. If you won’t marry me, you shouldn’t put me on a diet.”

“Doctors do it all the time, not just to their spouses. You have a doctor. Hasn’t he told you to watch what you eat?”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“Why?” she asked. Was it because she was a mere resident? Because she was a ped? That last was a legitimate distinction. A year from now, if an adult came into her office with a non-emergency complaint, she would send him to another doctor.

Eric said “Because I can ignore his advice.” She laughed at his answer, and he joined in her laughter. “I love you,” he said.

“And I love you, too.” He really did. He was so much more than she had experienced before. Why wasn’t he enough? Well, he was. It was just that he was too much.

Eric got his kiss at parting. At DSI they caught up on regular business that had been ignored in preparing for the merger. Sparky was still home, and bored enough with Madeleine to be pleased to see him. Diane called at seven.

“Hospital six-fifteen,” she said, “but there will be complications.”

The next night, the complications turned out to be minor. She wanted him to drive her to the gas station where she had left her car to be repaired. He called Madeleine and warned her. Then he followed Diane home until she parked her car and climbed in his.

“You are capable of learning,” she said.

“Well, I may not be an MD, but I got a BS from a damned good school. I hope I haven’t lost all that.”

“I half expected you to try to pay for the repairs.” Well, he had suspected that she wouldn’t like that.

“And, if I had?” he asked.

“You’d be going home alone.”

“Well, I didn’t pay your bill,” he pointed out.

“Yeah. And you get points for that. As I said, you can learn.”

“Well,” he said, “I love the teacher if not the lessons.”

Diane, again, stopped Valerie from greeting her until she had changed. She came down to find that dinner was waiting for her. It was spaghetti with tofu-based sauce. Mrs. Grant was using the new cook book and keeping things as tasty as ever. Valerie had to show Diane all the new toys. Luckily, she mentioned when they were from Diane

After the exhibition, the story, and kisses, she changed in the dressing room. She wore her new nightie under the robe Eric had given her. He had his glasses on, and he was watching her, but he did stay in bed. When she was bare, not that this took long, she raised the sheet and slipped into bed.

“Show’s over for tonight,” she said. “You can take your glasses off.” He did so, and she could hear them click on his night stand. He turned back and leaned over her.

“You didn’t use up all your good-night kisses did you?”

“Not if you didn’t.” His kiss was hot. Her tongue chased his when it withdrew, and he sucked hers. When his hand stroked down her abdomen, she spread her legs. He fingered her labia, and the heat spread. Finally, he raised his head and stilled his finger, though it was still between her labia.

“You want me to guess your rules,” Eric said.

“Not guess them. I want you to follow common sense.”

“Well, at one time, you said that I was in charge of what happened in this bed.”

“That was a great mistake,” she said.

“Not a mistake, but you haven’t withdrawn that statement.”

“Can I?”

“I want you to change one thing you said,” Eric said. He still thought she would accept her proposal. “It would be senseless for me to say that you shouldn’t change anything you say. Besides, if I box you in on how you behave in my bed, then you might simply not come here.”

“Lord Voldemort,” she said. He laughed. “Well, let’s limit it to one orgasm.”

“Compromise? At most two of your orgasms. I presume you weren’t counting mine.”

“Why do you have to push back all the time?”

“Well, if we start right in with me entering you, I might come too soon,” he said. “If, on the other hand, you’ve had yours, you’re not only more likely to have another, you’re also less messed up if you don’t.” Eric could be romantic, and he could also be cold-bloodedly pragmatic. Well, who had brought up limiting the number of her orgasms, anyway? He would enjoy a wild, romantic affair with bouquets of roses and days confined to bed. She had to have sleep before the alarm rang much too early.

“Why don’t we try that rule, then?” she asked.

“And you can make exceptions either way. You just have to remember my warning if you set it to one.” And, with that agreement, he went back to kissing her. The kisses moved down to her breasts, and the finger stroked more and more slowly. When he first sucked her nipple, he drew entire length of his finger across her clitoris slowly. She shuddered, and the heat spread. She felt herself grow tense.

He kissed down her breast and across her abdomen. His finger only stilled when he clambered between her legs. Then his tongue was on her vulva, and her arousal began to spiral upward. The heat spread, but greater heat pooled in her pelvis. Her muscles tightened in anticipation of her orgasm. Her spirit relaxed, knowing that it would come.

Then the flame leaped up and shook within her. She shook, too. He waited above her on hands and knees as she relaxed from her orgasm.

Eric watched her face relax into bliss and the red flush spread down from her face to her shoulders and her breasts. ‘Mine,’ he thought but was very careful not to say. This was his woman, and he had brought her this pleasure. He couldn’t put a pendant around her neck, but he could put a sex flush there. He licked one nipple and then the other.

“When you’re ready,” he said, “any time you’re ready.” He bent to kiss her nipples again.

Diane heard his permission to wait. She thought she heard in the same statement that he was restraining himself by great effort in giving that permission. Well, she was grateful for that effort, and she did want him. She reached out her arms, and he kissed her mouth while he spread her labia with his hand.

“Love,” he said. Then he was widening her, filling her, stretching her. He kissed her nose tip, and then he was moving in and out while staring into her eyes. The heat hadn’t really gone down, and it built again. She couldn’t bear his eyes piercing hers, but she couldn’t look away. She was more possessed by the stare than she was by the penis filling her vagina.

His motion continued in the same deliberate rhythm. The friction continued to fill her with heat. His unrelenting stare continued to pin her to the bed. The heat finally became too much, and she blinked.

Then the flame flashed through her. She spasmed.

“Diane,” Eric said. He drove into her so hard that he shifted her upward in the bed. Then she felt him pulse deep within her. Moments later, he collapsed onto her. She felt his upper arms on both sides of her chest, and knew that his elbows were dug into the mattress. Nonetheless, there was some weight on her breasts and a great deal of weight on her pelvis.

“Love you,” he said when he finally moved off. He left one arm draped over her and breathed raggedly close to her ear.

“Love you, too,” she said when she was recovered. “Move over and get the light.” When he did, she moved into his arms. He covered her carefully with the sheet. Then he wrapped his arm around her so that her right breast was in his hand. It might be impossible to sleep that way, she thought, but then she fell asleep.

The clock radio was saying something about foul weather when she woke up. She needed to get to the bathroom, bad, and she didn’t listen. She used the bidet before her shower and toweled off afterward. When she got to the closet which held her hospital whites, there were a marvelous number of clean ones. She packed some into her case, and carried it downstairs to breakfast. She asked Eric to play the news on their drive to the hospital, and the weather finally came on. There was a cold front moving in, and the next several days were predicted to be gloomy.

“It will fit my mood without you,” Eric said when the report was over.

“I’m going to set you the same rules as your daughter. No good-bye kisses if you sulk.”

“She gets to sulk. You only deprive her if she throws a tantrum.”

“She is only six,” Diane pointed out. Eric laughed. Which certainly earned him a long kiss when he pulled up to the entrance.

She left the case loaded with clothes in her room until after supper. By then, she had heard other weather forecasts, and they were dismal. Generally, she didn’t mind taking the bus to her apartment, but taking it in rain or sleet was something else. She called Eric.

Eric heard the Diane ring tone Saturday, and picked up immediately. Sparky was back in her room alone. “Look,” Diane asked, “would you mind dreadfully giving me a ride to the apartment tomorrow? I’m getting terribly spoiled, and the weather forecast looks dismal.”

“Mind? I would be delighted! If the weather looks dismal, why don’t you go to the main entrance and call me. I’ll be close, and I can drive up so you don’t have to get wet.” Sunday evening, he wore his parka, but took an umbrella for her. Usually, he considered them alternatives. He pushed the furled umbrella between the front seat and the drivers-side doors. The handle was to his left. He was at his usual stopping space by six. When he heard her ring tone, he drove around to the entrance. She came out, and he opened her door.

“Stay there,” he said when he got to her apartment house. He opened his door, grabbed the umbrella, and got out. He unfurled the umbrella and took it around to escort Diane to her apartment door.

“Come in,” she said, “but only half way.” Obediently, he stopped half way to the inner door. “Silly,” she said from that door, “this is half way.” If so, it was half way to heaven. The kiss she gave him was so sweet. When he explored her mouth, she sucked on his tongue. He broke the mouth kiss to spread kisses all over her face. When she kissed his neck, he almost came in his pants.

Finally, he had to let her go. She turned quickly, opened the door with her keys, and headed up the stairs. She stopped when she was almost out of sight, and turned to blow him a kiss. He blew one back, but she had turned and gone on. When she went around the landing and not even her feet were visible, he went back out. A cop car was behind his, and the cop was writing a ticket.

“I’ve already started writing it,” the cop said. “I waited a minute because the passenger door was open, but you didn’t come out.”

“Well, double parking is definitely illegal. Give me the ticket.”

“You shouldn’t have stayed in there so long.”

“No, officer, I definitely should have. It was worth the cost.”

At DSI, it was the start of the first full week. The guys who actually did work were back to doing work. New orders were beginning to pick up, as potential clients looked past their Christmas parties and New Year hangovers towards their needs for the new year. He was in reasonable temper by the time he got home. Sparky, who had spent the day with people other than Madeleine and himself, was happier with them and related her adventures at dinner. She was cheerful in her bath, and they exchanged kisses before the story as well as afterward.

Diane didn’t call, however. That soured his mind as he went to sleep. The next morning, that was more than balanced by the thought that she was due tonight. When he picked up Diane, she was carrying the suitcase.

“I missed the wash, didn’t I?” she asked when he had put the case in the trunk.

“Yeah. Are those dirty? Madeleine can do an extra wash.”

“I hate to make her do extra work.”

“Except,” he said, “revising her whole cooking routine to cut my eating pleasure. That falls within what your remarkably elastic conscience allows.” While he liked to tease her about this, he saw compensating advantages. Maybe she was reducing his eating pleasure, but she was doing it in the way a wife would.