Alone,left here in dust

Amidstmy fears and doubts

Life’sshattered dreams I could have

Donewithout

Nowchthonic life has set it’s sights on

Makingme a slave to its ways

Iwait for return

Untilthen my soul it burns

Andit burns

Onlyfor you.

AndI’ll be with you soon.

Stupidly, thethought I can’t get out of my head is ‘I am Captain Ahab, and I have justcaught Moby Dick.’

And there’s*this* moment, when we realise we probably shouldn’t have done that.Amoment when we come crashing back to reality, for reality rarely comesquietly, and look at each other with this moment of fear.Momentslike these are infinitely hard to deal with, as there is no way you canextract yourself with any dignity.Afterall, his penis is still inside of me.

Ah Jarod, howdid we get to this?Staring at eachother as our libidos deflate, his more literally than mine, realising we’veprobably just done the worst thing we could.OhJesus.What *have* we done?Thisawkwardness, I haven’t felt this since my college days, and he’s probablynever felt it, at least not in this context.Andthe floor is cold.Even though mybody is warm the floor is cold beneath my knees, and how must it be forJarod?His back is pressed againstthe wall and all his legs splayed out on the floor.Hemust be very cold.But I don’t wantto move.

Hishand is still on my breast, his shirt still hangs from his body.Hardto believe that while I sit here in shock and contemplate the folly ofour actions, time creeps past at a snails pace.Ireally don’t want to move.He iswarm and comforting and if I move and we dress then we have to confrontwhat has just happened.On my frontporch.Jesus.Wejust fucked on my front porch.Hadlife-altering, mind-blowing, soul-destroying sex on my front porch.OhJesus.

"Oh Parker." He says.PleaseJarod, don’t stroke my skin like that, don’t sound so sad.Don’tyou know that everything for us is impossible?Andwe must all face our demons, and this time they are each other.

I pull awayslowly, feeling so lost as his body leaves mine.Heis sad, in this cold dusk, sad that I couldn’t stay with him, both mentallyand physically.What have we done?Allthe walls are broken, walls I erected so carefully, broken with heavy breathingand a hot mouth and fumbling fingers and everything hot, so hot.Idon’t know how to fix this.How doI rebuild walls it took over a decade to create?

I stand, andhelp him to his feet.We hunt aroundfor clothes and don’t look in each others eyes.Mypanties are on the steps and his pants were thrown across the railing atsome stage.I want to watch him dressand admire his body.I want to teasehim as I hear him fumble with the zipper.Iwant to comb his hair into neatness with my fingers and kiss his face.Buteven after everything we have been through together, even after what justhappened, I still don’t feel I have the right.PerhapsI will never have the right.Thatma kes me so sad.

The dark isupon us, night with stealthy fingers.Itis strange, to be dressing like this, sheltered by the porch but so vulnerableto the cold darkness, so vulnerable to each other.Jarodhangs his head as he does up the buttons on his shirt, turns away as hepulls on his pants.He stands awkwardlywhen he has finished, fidgeting.I’mstill pulling on my skirt over my panties, my blouse hanging loose andunbuttoned from my shoulders.He’strying not to look at my breasts.Ihadn’t worn a bra to work today.Ican tell what he is doing.It’skind of cute.Another man would havestared blatantly.

As I dress Istare out into the forest.How poeticthat it surrounds my house.In fairytales,a dark forest was used to represent conflict.Everybodywent into the forest, I wonder how many *really* got out?Iam the wicked witch to Jarod’s Hansel and Gretel.Iam the evil stepmother to Jarod’s Snow White.Iam the bad fairy to Jarod’s Sleeping Beauty.Iam, I am running out of metaphors.

"We have to talk about this." He says when I am finisheddressing.I want to tell him thatI don’t have to do anything, that he should leave, that we should forgetthis.But I won’t.Iwill never be able to forget this.Thisis the moment where my whole life changes.Ican see that much, at least.We moveinside.

"Are, are you hungry?Perhapswe should eat first.." How timid I sound.Stillrunning away.It is Jarod who isthe fugitive, and yet I am the one who is always hiding.Henods, slowly, still not looking in my eyes.Doyou feel as dirty as I do?I’ve alwaysknown sex was nothing to be ashamed of, hell, for a while there I revelledin it.But this, this primal matingthat had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with history, it shamesme.

Silently weprepare a quick pasta and salad.Itamazes me that we both know what we’re doing without having to ask eachother.He slices onion and throwsit into a hot pan as I dice tomatoes.Thisis depressing.Acting like we’renormal.If there is one thing I’vealways known about my life, its that it is definitely not normal.Ourhands touch as we reach for the pepper, little shivers tingle down my back.Iwant him again.My nipples are tenderfrom when he licked and bit at them, and as they jump to attention theyrasp against my shirt.Shit.Ihope he doesn’t notice.

He has.He’sstaring at my shirt, where signs of my arousal are obvious.Whydoesn’t he look away, like before?Hedoes, but only after a moment.Hejerks his head away, fumbling with the knife in his hand and cutting hisfinger.Dark blood wells up fromthe cut.He swears, and I move instinctivelytowards him, wrapping a cloth around the finger which bleeds.Ican smell myself on him.This wasa mistake, we should have just talked and gotten it out of the way, goneour separate ways.

"Thanks." He mumbles.Lookat us, like a pair of randy teenagers.IfI’m head cheerleader will he be the star quarterback?Doesthis mean I have to learn how to giggle?Standingcloser than necessity allows, our hands practically clasped together.I’mvery short of breath.He kissed mefirst tonight, I remember that.Hismouth so hot and wet, a kiss I lost myself in.Willhe do it again?Do I *want* him todo it again?Do I want to lose myselfand feel him touch me and want it and forget everything all over again?

Yes.YesI do.

This is ridiculous,of course.Nothing will have changed.I’mleaning into him a little.Thingswon’t magically get solved with sex, of course.Thething is, see, he smells so good.Helooks so good.And I really wantto taste him again.I want to seethe look on his face when he comes inside me again.Iwant him to make me come again.Helets out a slow, slow breath, stirring my hair and tickling my face.Heknows what I’m thinking.He’sthinking the same thing.

"We shouldn’t." he whispers.Ican’t help but stare at his mouth, his soft, gentle mouth.

"You’re right." I tell him.Inturn, he watches my mouth.I couldeasily adore this man.

I lean forwarda little more, draping one hand over his muscular shoulder.Iremember when I was twenty-two and came home from college.Iimmediately went hunting for Jarod, confounded when I couldn’t find theshy, slightly sickly boy I’d remembered.InsteadI found this man.I’d walked intothe gym to see his hard body, barely decent and covered in sweat.He’dsmiled that sexy smile at me and asked me to throw him a towel.Imust have drooled all over the gym equipment.Granted,he hadn’t been exactly immune to me either.I’dasked him if he wanted to accompany me for a few laps in the pool.

I don’t believein one-piece bathing suits.Jarod’sjaw almost hit the floor when he saw me in that little black string bikini.Beforethat day he never had any idea what a string bikini was.Orwhat it can do to a man.He was twenty-threeand I was twenty-two, and never before had a felt sexual tension like Idid on that day.And only tonighthas ever equalled it.

"It would be stupid, to... Again." I tell him.Henods.The cloth drops, forgotten,and he wraps his arms around me and kisses me.Openmouthed with tongue and everything, not particularly skilful, but who needsit anyway when you have this red hot aching desire, so hot it feels likethe room is on fire"

We forgot aboutthe pan on the stove.The hot oilmust have smoked away for a few minutes, and just as we kissed, reachedflashpoint.It startles us with itsblinding heat.Jarod swings awayfrom me abruptly, deftly dropping a large pot lid on top, extinguishingthe small blaze.Atmosphere, thyname is tension.We are about threefeet away from each other, Jarod has crossed his arms over his chest, watchingme.My move, apparently.

"Ah." Oh I’m brilliant today.Iscrub distractedly at my mouth with my hand.

"Yes." He murmurs.Hesteps forward again, watching me with those soft eyes.Hestretches out one large palm and cradles my cheek in his hand. I closemy eyes, so greedy for the touch.Thisis insane.

"Let me stay," he whispers, "let me stay the nightwith you.Let me kiss you and wakebeside you tomorrow." I shake my head and feel the hot sting of tears undermy eyelids.Jarod moves closer, usinghis free arm to draw me tight against him, resting his forehead againstmine.I am tempted, God knows I amtempted.

"Let me hold you tonight.Idon’t care how stupid it will be." He says against my skin, nuzzling hisway down to my neck, where he places fragile kisses.Helooks up when he feels my tears against his skin, more kisses, on my lipsthis time.Spidery, cobweb kisses.

The truth isI want him to stay tonight.Isn’tthat what we were both thinking when he showed up at my house?Whatwe were thinking when he kissed me and I kissed him back?Iwant him to stay but I am afraid, so very afraid, of what it will mean.Icouldn’t move for him for the same reasons he couldn’t stay still for me.Ifhe stayed tonight, he would hold me and in the morning he would go, leavingme with the broken pieces of the life I knew.Ihave lived on the belief that what I do is right.Allowinghim to stay will fracture the little faith I have left.

"No," I whisper, but I can hear the indecision inmy own voice.I am a forty year oldwoman who is afraid of the empty side of the bed.ButJarod is more than space-filler.

I have saidno, but it is the wrong answer.Jarod,forever bound by propriety, will not make a move without my complete andutter consent.He watches me, darkpleading eyes on my face.God howI want this.If I have already recognisedthat this is the day that I am forever changed, then why not go all theway?My thoughts are distracted asJarod leans in closer, his erection pressed against my hip.Whata decidedly exciting form of persuasion.

"Parker?Letme stay?" he whispers into my hair.Bythe standards I have lived by for years, I am making a mistake.

The best mistake of my life, perhaps.

"Fuck yeah."

Jarod whirlsme into his arms as soon as the words are spoken, his mouth pressed hotand hungry against mine.One of thosekisses that make you ache, of a lover you’ve known for years, lips andtongue and teeth all meeting in a volatile combination.Hemoans my own name, my first name, into my mouth, his hand on my breastas we undo the process we started not an hour ago.Gettingour clothes on suddenly becomes ripping them off.

"I can’t-" he gets out, but I already know, and dragback for a moment to wrench my blouse over my head, not bothering withbuttons.He growls, a soft, pleasedlittle growl as he kisses me, enthusiastically running his palm over onetaut nipple, which is so painful, from our earlier escapades, and so pleasurable,because I’m that kind of girl, all at the same time.

"How-" I begin, and he shows me, a little hook anda catch and then easy Velcro, a soft rustle and his pants are off, howI hate modern male fashions, but all is well because Jarod’s shirt is plummetingto the floor as he reaches for me again, naked and uncaring.Ican’t get my skirt off fast enough, and Jarod wraps his arms around me,hindering my progress as I try to shimmy out of both underwear and skirtat the same time.We make wild, stumblingmotions towards my bedroom as we lock mouths again, his hand fumbling betweenmy legs as the scraps of material are finally lost, I can hear myself moaning.Yes,right there, I try to say, but it doesn’t come out properly, thank Godhe gets the idea.

We reach thestaircase and Jarod gives up, stumbling back and landing with a thump onthe third step, pulling me astride and doing wonderful things to my overheatedlibido.

"Jesus" I whisper and he nods, hardness pressed firmlyagainst my thigh.He tangles hishand into my hair and I raise myself up, de je vu, holding him in one handand steadying myself on his shoulders with the other, dropping down slowlyonto him, sighing with pleasure at the sensation.

"Jarod." I tell him, like it’s some sort of revelation,and he nods again, gripping my hips with strong hands and guiding my movements,how thankful I am too, for I haven’t the coherency to help him out.

"Yes!" comes a growl, from me, surprisingly, and hegrunts and slides his finger to touch me, pressing one long hard finger,just right, against my clit and leaning forward to suck at one breast.Andstill, those beautiful movements which my body makes and his orchestrates,my hair is in my eyes and I can’t see a damn thing but it doesn’t matter,nothing matters, he’s here and we’re here and he is TOUCHING me just perfectlyand moving, so perfect, inside of me and I can feel the little shuddersthat means I’m going to, really soon I’m going to.

"Jarod!"

"Parker!"

And then there’s *this*moment, where we realise we’re back at square one and the awkwardness hasn’tgone away, even the second time around.I’mnaked, on his lap, again, at least we managed to get naked this time butstill, he is inside of me.I sighagainst his chest and he shivers.

"Oh Jarod," I whisper, and he nods, understandingme completely.Oh Jarod, I’m afraid,oh Jarod, that was amazing, oh Jarod, we didn’t get to the bedroom *again*.Hestands, slowly but nevertheless suddenly, withdrawing his heat from mineand carrying me in his warm, secure arms.Hecarries me up the stairs and lays me down upon my own bed and lies nextto me, curling his body around mine and fitting us together.

"Let me stay tonight." He murmurs again, and I nod,too tired to do otherwise, falling into sleep in the brilliance of hissmile.He loves me again, I knowit.How peculiar.

And I’ll be with you soon

----
 

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Part 2