Day 97

I woke after daylight brightened the windows. His heavy breathing told me that he still slept before I even opened my eyes. I felt his hand resting across my waist with his fingers cupping my round curves. There was a warm sense of closeness when his breath tickled the short hairs on my neck.

I loved Sunday mornings with Jules. We had some of our most intimate moments in those hours before hunger drove us from our bed. She often worked on Saturday nights, and came home keyed up from the bar, unable to rest. She would wake me when she came to bed and I would give her pleasure until she let me sleep. Then in the morning we would spend time loving each other, talking softly, or just spending quiet time wrapped in each other's arms.

Recalling those moments made me want to share them with John. With my arousal motivating me, I rolled into him and pressed my back against his stomach. His response was to squeeze and rub from my hips to my legs, letting his fingers explore the wet places in between.

"G'morning," he said with a kiss. I hummed in response and pressed my hips against him again to encourage him to continue.

He ran his hands across my back, pausing for a moment to rub his fingers in my valley. I liked my shape in the back, and it seemed to meet with his approval as he squeezed gently. Eventually he sat up and slowly began to run his hands over my whole back, making me hug my pillow and moan out loud.

"Yes, please rub my back. I'll do anything. Just keep going."

He spent a long time pushing my skin and muscles around as I expressed my satisfaction with quiet sighs. The smile on my face got bigger as I felt his arousal against my thigh. He paused for a moment to dip his fingers into my slippery wet, then surprised me by rubbing between my cheeks, letting his fingers brush lightly across my closed hole.

"Oh," I hissed, pressing up against his hand. He stayed in that spot, circling around and around as his other hand continued to massage my hips. My mouth was open, but my eyes refused to do the same while his finger was there.

He continued to massage, but I could feel him pushing one leg, wanting me to lift it towards my chest. I moved as he wanted, then he straddled my extended leg, still massaging between my cheeks. I was laying halfway on my stomach and my side, but the position opened me up for him perfectly. There was a wonderful feeling of pressure as he began to slip between my swollen lips. I was so wet he barely needed to push at all.

Once I was full of him, he began to massage my back again, but hardly moved his hips at all. There was some motion between us as he leaned over to reach my shoulders, and in the position I was in it felt wonderful just to have him there. The slow pace kept me simmering without boiling over and gave me time to thoroughly enjoy his attention.

"This is fantastic." I could only lay there as he made my entire body tingle.

"You are fantastic, and I am the luckiest man in the world."

"I like this position. You are right up against the front side, pressing on my favorite spot."

"How could you pick?"

"Pick what?"

"A favorite spot. I love this one." He ran his hands over my hips. "And this one." He slid his thumb in between and rubbed my tight hole again. "This one is definitely in my top three." He pushed his hips forward and made me gasp as he touched my deepest spot gently. "But these are so beautiful." He reached under and caressed the sides of my breasts. "This ear is almost perfect." His fingers tickled me as they pushed my short hair out of the way and traced along the edges. "I can't reach your knees or toes right now, but I love them, too. How could you pick just one spot?"

I was breathless. "Do that again."

"What, this?" He pushed his hips forward and held himself deeply inside me. It felt so full, so warm. I gasped again and gripped the pillow. He began to flex himself somehow. I can't imagine what muscles he used, but I could feel him moving all the way deep inside. He squeezed my hips as he flexed. I lost track of time as those small, subtle movements brought me right to the edge.

I tried to increase the stimulation by squeezing him back, using my own muscles to draw him in more fully. He finally stopped moving and held himself still. We were both completely focused on the sensations. When the moment finally came for me, he let go right after my pulses began, but we were both silent. He only trembled and let out a shuddering breath when it passed. I could only lay there panting quietly, the damp sheets underneath suddenly wet.

He didn't pull away, just began to massage my back again, albeit at a somewhat more languid pace. I took a deep breath and sighed happily. "Wow."

When he finally slipped out, he lay down next to me and wrapped me in his arms, slipping his leg between mine. "Let's stay in bed all day."

"I'd love to, but I need the money. I have to go to work today."

"Okay, then let's stay in bed all morning."

"That I can do."

By the time I danced into work I felt as if I'd spent a day at the spa with Jules. John came with me to the mall since we planned to go to Chris' house for dinner right after I got off shift.

Sundays were an easy day this time of year, just noon to six, without the same kind of crowds we got on Saturdays or during the holiday season. I had left John at the coffee shop in the center of the mall with a kiss and a promise to meet him there just after the store closed.

The floor manager had us moving stock around to prepare for the summer season. It made the time go quickly, but it left us short staffed for assisting customers. I was unloading a cart full of short sleeve shirts when I heard someone speak behind me.

"Well, Kate Miller, as I live and breathe." I looked up and saw a familiar face, but couldn't immediately identify where I knew her from.

"Hi." I stood and smiled when it hit me. Monica had put on a few pounds, but she had been a bit too skinny in high school. "Monica. It's been a while."

"Yes, a couple of years at least. How've you been?"

"Fine, keeping busy. You?"

"Oh, I had a little too much fun recently, but I got some help. That's all behind me now." She looked like she was going to burst from holding in her secret. "I ran into Jules recently."

"Oh?" I decided to play dumb to see what she had in mind.

"She said to tell you hello if I ran into you."

"Really?" I doubted Jules would send messages with Monica considering their history. There was a party once where Monica had lied about seeing Jules kissing someone to create drama between two big, strapping lads. When it nearly came to blows between them, I had to stop Jules from doing something rash to Monica.

Since she couldn't get a rise out of me, she prompted me again. "You know where she is, of course."

"Do you have a point, Monica?"

"I mean, it's nothing to me that you two had a ... thing." She flushed when she said it.

Her giddy, voyeuristic reaction to our relationship infuriated me. "I glad my personal life means nothing to you. It's such a relief."

"That's not what I meant. Like, I mean, I never knew you two ... I mean, wow. And now she's all torn up about your cousin, like she can't decide between you two or something."

"Yep, it's a real panty soaker. Do you need anything or are we done here?"

"You don't have to be ugly to me. I was just trying to be supportive and all."

"Supportive? This is what you call being supportive?"

"Look, I never even knew you went lez until last week. I figured you might want someone to talk to since your cousin moved in on your action and now your girl friend is in the nut hatch crying about it to anyone who'll listen."

At first I was stunned into silence by her ignorant review of the situation, but then I couldn't help laughing. Monica must have sat right there and listened to my love — my Jules — pouring out her heart, but hadn't even understood what had been said. I'd been afraid of this?

"Why are you laughing? What's so funny?" It was even funnier that she was mad I was laughing at her. I howled as she looked even angrier.

"Oh, I needed that." I finally got myself under control. "Monica, I appreciate you stopping by to say hello, but I really need to get back to work."

"I don't understand, I thought you'd like to hear how she was doing?"

"I know how she is doing."

"So then you know what happened Saturday, right before I left?"

I took a chance and guessed. "You mean after she got the letter from the front desk?"

"No that was Friday. She was plenty pissed at our group session. She went on and on about what a bitch her mom was. On Saturday her parents came to visit. She had to be restrained, sedated even. I saw her being dragged into the quiet room when I was leaving."

"What?" I felt numb all over.

"Yeah, they make you go into a padded room when you bug out and will keep you in restraints until you calm down. They also drop you back to level one; that's where you are restricted to the unit, like when you first come in. No shoelaces or belts either, if you know what I mean."

Her voice became a droning noise when the tears came to my eyes. "Oh, my poor baby." While John and I had been enjoying a romantic dinner and spending long hours giving each other pleasure in her bed, she had been locked in a padded room, bound in restraints, all alone. I suddenly felt sick.

When I looked up at Monica's face, I didn't see sympathy in her piggy eyes. She was like a tick feeding off my pain. Something must have shown in my face, because she backed up a step in alarm. I hissed, "You love this kind of thing, don't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You love seeing other people suffer."

"Well, if you're going to sin, you shouldn't be surprised when the Devil takes his due." She twirled the cross she wore on a chain around her neck and gave me a condescending look.

It took all my strength to keep from slapping that smug grin off of her face. Instead, I turned and walked into the shadowy back room to cry between the dusty shelves full of new summer items.

By the time my shift was over I felt totally dead inside. The long walk to the center of the mall felt like shuffling steps to meet the hangman. John saw the look on my face and quickly came to meet me.

"What happened?"

"Jules was put in restraints and sedated yesterday after her parents went to visit her."

"How did you find out?" He looked angry and puzzled.

"Monica saw me working and couldn't resist dropping that little bombshell on me." I grimaced at the memory.

"You said she liked to lie, so you don't know for certain."

"If she were going to lie, it wouldn't be about something like that."

"What do you mean?"

"She doesn't do big lies. Her lies are like pebbles that start an avalanche. She starts problems with little lies, but she wouldn't lie about something big like this. It's not her style. You'd have to know her to really understand what I mean."

"I think I see. What the hell could have happened?"

"Jules' mom pushed her buttons until she reacted. I bet it was part of her plan. You can't commit someone who isn't crazy. So she's driving Jules crazy."

"You can't be serious."

"Like a heart attack."

"What kind of woman would do something like that to her daughter?"

I had no answer for him as we walked to the car in silence. I gave him the keys; I couldn't drive. After we were in the car he asked, "You don't want to go to dinner tonight, do you?"

"No, but I still need to find a lawyer and Chris at least offered to help me. I feel awful talking about Jules' private business, but I need help. I'm going to tell them what's going on and ask for their advice."

He nodded and started the car. My phone's GPS give us directions. While we drove, I leaned against John's arm and stared blankly out the windshield.

"What color was the car you saw outside the apartment last night?"

"Blue, some kind of blue four-door sedan." I turned back to look over my shoulder at the traffic behind us. "What did you see?"

"Nothing yet. Just wanted to watch to see if anyone is following us."

I sat up then and kept checking the rear view mirrors. When we turned corners I looked back to see who turned with us. If anyone was following us, they weren't obvious about it or weren't driving a blue sedan.

Chris' house was a brick one-story with large trees and a thick green lawn. We held hands as we walked to the front door and I steeled myself for a long night. John knocked on the door for us, then we waited.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered. I could only nod, but I wasn't feeling as confident as he sounded.

"Welcome to my humble abode!" Chris opened the door with a grin wearing a Kiss the Cook apron around his large waist. "You must be John. I'm Chris Johnson. Can I get either of you something to drink?"

"Beer if you have it." John shook his hand firmly and tried to make a good impression by looking him in the eyes and smiling warmly. "Hi Aunt Lisa." He waved to Mom standing near the sliding glass door with a plate of raw steaks.

"Nothing for me, thanks." I gave Chris a hug and crossed over to give Mom a peck on the cheek. "Hi Mom. I'm glad to see you."

"Hi Kate. I forgot to mention how much I liked your haircut yesterday." She smiled, but the red spots on her cheeks told me she was uncomfortable already. "Good to see you again, John."

We made our way through to the back yard. His house was definitely a man's place, with dark colors, hunting themed art, and big book shelves full of leather-bound and paperback books. A large entertainment center with an enormous flat-screen television took up a whole wall in the living room. All the windows lacked curtains, but the natural light helped keep the dark paneled rooms bright and cheery.

As we went out into the yard, a medium-sized dog came up wagging its tail so hard its whole back end swung like a gate. "That's Jabba the Mutt. The boys were going through a Star Wars phase when we got him a decade or so ago." I bent down and let him sniff my hand before petting him. He seemed to love the attention and immediately rolled over on his back for a belly rub. When I stood up, he followed me to the patio table and laid against my feet when I sat down.

John brought his beer over and sat next to me while Chris put the steaks on the hot grill. "So what are you studying, John?"

"Civil Engineering. I want to build things that will last longer than me."

"That's an admirable goal. Pretty good money, too, from what my customers tell me."

"What do you do?"

"Insurance and financial planning, but as soon as I pay off the kids' college loans, I'm going part time. I want to do something different, but I've not really decided what that something is just yet."

Mom piped up, beaming with pride. "He is good at so many different things. He's a competitive shooter, cooks like a chef, and even plays drums in a band."

"Cool! What do you guys play?"

"Mostly old rock, and some rhythm and blues. I think we do stuff like Stevie Ray Vaughan and The Police the best."

"Are you guys playing out?"

"Yeah, we do gigs for local service clubs like the Shriners, the Rotary, and the Elks. Sometimes we'll do a small street festival or play in one of the neighborhood bars. It's all for fun and we put the money we earn toward beer and gear. I've sound-proofed the garage and built a rehearsal stage and home bar in there. Want to see it?"