Chapter 25: Wednesday Evening

"Don Sanche, ou Le château de l'amour"

Rebbecca

I sat in wonder as My Mountain bent and folded himself into the driver's seat. I'd already experienced it, yet the sight continued to transfix me. Each time, I saw more and more of the subtle movements of his muscles. The hardness turning soft to bend, fit. How could someone well over a foot taller than me fit into this little box? I could, barely.

"Why don't you get a bigger car?"

"Hmm? Oh. Well, this works." He started it and headed towards his house. No music.

"Do you want some music?"

"Hmm? Yeah. Sure."

I waited for him to turn it on. Instead, he stared out at the road and propelled the car through traffic, both hands firmly attached to the wheel. I waited a bit more. Then, I looked down at where radios normally are on cars I've been in, only to be met with the sight of hundreds of buttons and such. Well, it seemed like it. Space Shuttle came to mind.

Which one? I pressed randomly. A few seconds later, my feet started getting hot and a little display said "80/27".

Well, that didn't work. Now, how do I turn off the heat and turn on the music? That one looks good.

My feet ceased being toasted, but cold air started freezing my nipples.

I pressed another button and all that happened was a little light came on on the button. I wonder if that means the shuttle bay doors are open? I just knew if I pressed another button, the ejection seat on my side would be activated.

"Help!" I squeaked.

"Huh?" He looked down at the controls, grunted, and his fingers began dancing over the buttons. Such big fingers and they moved so nimbly. Within seconds, the freezing ceased, the little light went off, and the music started. Classical. No. Opera. Opera?

My Mountain's hand found its way to my thigh and his attention returned to staring at the road.

"Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah. Just fine." His eyes never left the road.

"Are you mad at me?"

"What? No. Just thinking."

Maybe he needs his cave time too. I hope that's what it is. I know I need my down time away from others. Hey! That's what's been missing this week! Before, when I was hiding, I always had alone time. The only alone time I've had this week is when I've been asleep. Of course, I've disappeared into his cave a few times. Maybe he just needs his alone time too. But, tonight? This night?

Right now, I needed to talk. How strange is that? Me, needing to talk. Perhaps I should be on the lookout for lightning bolts or meteors falling from the sky?

How can I work my professional, digital camera, but not use the controls in Luis's car? Okay, it did take me nearly five forevers to figure out all the features of the camera, or at least the ones I've figured out so far in two years. Still, it was a lot of buttons and knobs and menus...

I looked over at My Mountain. Wedged. How could he be comfortable? He had to bend his head down, his knees were almost chest level, but splayed to fit the steering wheel. I couldn't reach Junior if I tried.

Junior. Hmm ... Tonight. My Mountain over me, ready to possess me. My legs spread, my ankles hooked on his legs. My hands around his massive neck. Junior's head coming closer and closer, touching me-

"Sweets? We're here."

"Yeah, almost there!"

"No Becca. We're here."

"Oh, sorry." I blushed to my toes. Somehow, we made it into the house where I led Luis into the kitchen. I sat him down on a chair and straddled his lap. "Do you need some alone time or do you want to make-out with your girlfriend?"

His eyes looked at me, but he wasn't there.

"Go into the living room. Find some good music and let me fix dinner, okay?" I started to get up.

"Nope," he said as his eyes cleared. Suddenly, his lips were on mine and my body just melted into him. His tongue searched, mine responded. We probed each other's mouths, looking and finding the soul inside. My hands found their way as far around his neck as they could go. His rubbing, caressing, fondling my back, shoulders, down ... Oh, so deliciously down, cupping my ass and sending shocks, shivers, warmth, delight through my whole system. I felt him moan and that stranger, that sounded like me, moaned in response.

When one of his mighty paws gently lifted my left boob, I almost came. Those massive, rough fingers rolled my nipple with such care and precision. So deliciously gentle and yet the power, barely contained, behind them. Junior was poking his head up and rubbing across my mound, tickling my clit delightfully. I started to reach down and...

THE PHONE RANG!

I tried to ignore it. It will go away. Before I could get a good grip on the monster between my legs and aim him where I wanted him to be, Luis REACHED OVER FOR THE PHONE!

"It's Momma," was all he said. As if that excused his behavior?

"Pronto!" he said before I could speak my displeasure and frustration.

"No Momma. Not yet." At least he was panting.

I tried wiggling back over Junior, but he had deflated in my hand. I guess no Mommy fantasies there.

"For you," he said as he handed me the phone. "Momma wants to talk to you about dinner."

"What? NOW?" I half screamed and half groaned. I reached for the phone, trying to figure out if eyes could turn into death rays or something.

Luis

Oh. My. God! I can't believe that Becca was about to drop down on Junior! I can't believe Momma called and interrupted that. I can't decide which one is upsetting me. Or, is it just this whole, strange day?

Becca crawled off my lap, yacking away into the phone, and headed to the fridge. Damn, she has a fine ass. Perfect handfuls for me. Okay, Luis, get your mind straight. Too much hit you today. You need music. Meditation. Yes, all of the above.

As I got up, I watched Becca moving about the kitchen, the phone plastered to her ear. There was no way I'd get her attention away from girl talk and what other plans they had. My downfall, no doubt. I'd awaken in the morning with a ring through my nose and being led on a leash. Right!

I waved to the kitchen as I headed to the living room. I found the Native American drums and chants I liked to use to think to, put them on at a gentle volume, and found a comfortable spot on the floor.

Settling into a lotus position, something others have seen and still express disbelief that I can do it, I closed my eyes and deepened my breathing.

The steady, deep drumming of the music combined with the sparse, Zen-like, soft, almost flight-like quality of the flutes helped settle me. The dream-like chants just added layers of complexity and peace. I focused on pulling my breath in through my nose, up to my crown point, then down my spine past my energy points. I noted which ones needed attention. When the air made it to my center, I began to "spin the ball" deep in my core.

When my body was full of air, my stomach distended with it, I let the spinning ball push it slowly up through the front of my body, moving out the toxins and tensions. Letting it turn the energy centers into pure light.

One breath.

Two.

Wow! USC! Need ... to clear my mind. Just let the thought go.

Three.

Becca. In my lap. Positioning Junior ... Let it go.

Four.

East ... Let it go.

Five...

The world faded, yet became everything. Everything had meaning, a story. Yet, there was nothing. I ceased and became nothing. Nothing floated in nothing, being nothing and everything.

Slowly, the slow beating became drums. The sounds became flutes. The smells became something wonderful drifting in from the kitchen. I stopped being nothing/everything and became Luis again.

I felt Becca before I opened my eyes. "Hi, sweets."

"You're back!" She crawled into my lap, snuggling up to me.

As soon as I opened my eyes, I closed them again when her lips met mine. This was a tender, loving, caring kiss. None of the manic energy from earlier. Sweet. Loving. Just let it go and be...

The light pressure on my face became her hands. The energy running through me became love. Becca became the center of my focus. She looked deeply into my newly opened eyes.

"I love you."

Her words exploded through me. Every part of me agreed. Every cell. Every fiber. "And, I love you."

We sealed it with another kiss. Just as sweet. Just as loving. Okay, maybe a bit more passion. Just as my hand was being pulled towards those magnificent orbs on her chest, she pulled back. "Dinner's almost ready. I need your help."

My hands moved up the lower slope, carefully measuring the changing angles and complex curves that make the female breast a perfect example of a fifth order differential equation. "Can it wait for a minute?"

"Uhm..."

"Just a couple of minutes," I said as I pushed her back and lowered my lips to the hard peak. I love how it was poking out, beckoning me forward. Enticing me to suckle.

"Uhm..."

Her hands moved through my hair, pulling me into firmer contact. I traced the little bumps that turned to crinkles that turned to...

Her hands pushed me away. "Oh no, Mister. Dinner is too special tonight for you to distract me."

I watched, transfixed, as she just rose. She didn't stand. She didn't make discreet moves as in a) push back, b) unfold from my lap, c) move balance to stand ... She just was in my lap and in a beautiful, graceful dance with gravity, she was standing.

And reaching down for my hand to help me up. Fortunately, my knees still work and I was able to stand without pull her off balance. I let her think she was helping. Well, she was. Really. The smile on her face, the joy in her eyes really helped.

Towering above her, my arms moving to hug her to me, and...

"Oh! The pasta!" And she ran into the kitchen. "Open the wine," she threw back at me over her shoulder. "And stay OUT of the dining room."

My arms closed on empty air. From the kitchen I heard pots rattling, a few choice words that I didn't think Becca knew, and her yelling to me, "Wine! Now!"

Three days and she's running my life. Maybe they've already surgically implanted the ring in my nose and I hadn't noticed.

And, this is a bad thing?

Rebbecca

Damn! Damn! Damn!

Okay, I don't know if I'm cursing the pasta, the interruption, or how easily I fall into My Mountain's eyes. And lips. And like his kisses. And his hands on my boobs. And wish that the damned phone hadn't rung. And. And. And.

The pasta was fine. To me. I drained it like Carmella had told me. Then poured cold water from the tap on it. Why? I don't know. She said something about stopping it from cooking so it wouldn't turn to mush. But, wouldn't it cool it as well? Apparently not.

The texture of pasta is very appealing visually. And really amazing when you run your hands through it. Silky. There, but not. And, no it didn't cool. Ouch!

He's just standing there by the open wine bottles. Waiting for me. I hope. What if he's mad? Is he frustrated? I would be. I am. Tonight. After dinner. After all, this is the plan. The script. Feed him. Seduce him.

Now, where is the girl that was with me Monday morning? You know, the one that had perfected being invisible. The one that was practiced at avoiding interactions with others, except the views I formed in my artists mind, saving them to write about, draw, or paint.

Here I am ... Not being her. Cooking a meal. Well, not really, but sort of. Warming this. Boiling that. Instructions from Carmella. A perfectly planned meal to feed My Mountain. To handle his needs during the football season and still leave him functional for my plans for the evening. And ... Naked.

My Mountain. Luis. Boyfriend. Did that ever run around my mouth and mind leaving a funny taste. Boyfriend. Yep. Did it again. Feels strange. Feels good, actually. Feels ... scary. Yet, feels ... right. And ... I'm naked. So is he!

From my perfect world I had built to ... this! Crying while happy. Laughing out loud in crowds. So suddenly empty I'm yearning for something I've never had. So full I'm bursting at the seams. So complete. So confused. And ... So naked.

What is with the phone? And, what is with him answering it?

"Hello." So calm.

"Nope. Not even considering the University of Maryland. Nope. Not going to change my mind, you know that." Maybe his friend Mike?

"Look Hollow Dick, we've talked about this!" Yep, Mike.

"Yep, full ride offers from UT and USC." Scholarship offers. For him and me. This is different than I imagined my Senior year being.

"Not a word, okay? Right. Well ... USC." California here we come ... WHAT!?! Did I just say that? It wouldn't be a bad choice. There are some teachers out there that really might push my art. Better still, the exposure. I might even get a chance at a gallery showing my sophomore year. Wouldn't that be ... Showing? Me? Miss Invisible?

"Sweets? Anything else you need me to do?"

"Uhm ... I think I've got everything in hand. Keep me company while I finish?"

"Always, my Becca."

And that damned thing rang again. And, of course, he answered it again. Well, I do have a couple more things to get ready. Might as well carry the dishes into the dining room. Oh, Carmella did a wonderful job. Wait, it looks like this normally. No. Something is different. The candles. Ah! I need to light them.

"Carmella, I love this room," I said to the candles. Thankfully, the absent woman didn't respond. I've studied Italian art, what artist hasn't? Yet, this room was ... well, the roll-up of all of Italian history. The really good parts. The warmth. The deepness of history and family. The sheer joy of living life at a speed most people didn't appreciate. The Italians — the original slow food society.

I finished lighting all the candles, paying more attention to the room than I had the first night. For some reason, I wasn't as distracted. The room has definite feeling of warmth, comfort. Yet was still quite large. It could easily seat a family of four and maintain a casual closeness. Just as easily, the room could be reconfigured and sit a very large dinner party. Formal and still welcoming. Tonight, it set for a very intimate dinner for two. Sensuous. Inviting. Close. Seductive. Speaking of victims...