Temptations

There are a lot of things you don't know that are for your own good...

     I couldn't have been anymore then maybe seven at the time. That was when I realized that it was different. He was different. Different then I was. And not in just the general boy, girl way either. I mean really different. His life was one of great destiny. And I was just plain old Aimee. The girl they tortured with tickles and relied on not to rat them out. Just Aimee from down the street.
     I think it was at one of their shows that it hit me first. I had always gone to their shows when I could. What kind of a friend would I have been if I didn't after all? But it occured to me that this was not something that boys did all the time, sing I mean. That was my first loss of innocence. And not the last by any means.
     Over a period of time they were more and more involved with their music. It was a constant with them. They did everything to their own beat so to speak. It never really phased me... until that day. That one single day where I was just standing there listening to them as they sang their hearts out for the adoring crowd. He looked at me, the soul of his voice and the pleading of his eyes as those words tumbled out. It was a stunning revelation. It hit me hard when his eyes connected with mine and it all seemed so clear for that one brief shining moment. But it was fleeting, for I would chase that feeling for years later and never seem to catch it.
   I would find myself daydreaming during school. Trying hard to snap out of it only to wind up thinking about him all over again. Of course it was made doubly worse after the night of my birthday party when I turned ten. We were in the back yard, under the canopy of stars, the air was so sweet. He came to me, I hadn't noticed he was there for I was so busy with all of my other friends. I wasn't so far gone as to ignore them... yet. He stood beside me, in the quiet, shoulder to shoulder.
   "Whatcha think'n?" He asked as I gazed at the heavens.
   "Nutt'n." I shrugged.
   "Will you come with me? I want to give you something." He asked as he took my hand, tugging me toward the fort we'd made eons ago.
     I followed like a blind kitten. He pushed aside the ratty old tarp we had hung for a door and ushered me into the dark. I entered, sat and waited. He sat next to me, very close, closer then normally. I trusted him. After all, he was older and wiser was he not? He startled me when he took my hand again. He soothed my fears with a simple stroke of his thumb over my trembling fingers. I could feel him lean towards me, the spikey smell of punch on his breath from my party. His soft hair slid over my shoulder where it was left bare from my bathing suit and it made me shiver. Then I felt it. Soft, sweet tasting and damp. The tender kiss he lay on my parched lips. Instinctively I licked at it, tasting it before it registered in my brain what exactly it was. When it did finaly kick in what had just happened, I was at a loss as to what to think or do next. He didn't allow me the luxury of working it out. He made my decisions for me. He quickly kissed me again. I at least by now had the where with all to return his affections. I wasn't stupid by any means. I could almost feel his grin in the dark when he pulled away from me. The dull glimmer of his eyes the only shine in the small cramped space.
   "Does that mean you'll be my girl now?"
     I was dumbfounded. Was I even old enough to be considered someones 'girl?' Of course, if I was going to be anybodies 'girl' I wanted to be his. But it was all childish games. It was playing at real life. After that night, we were pretty much the same as before, except that after, when he would hold my hand, he would give me a special little smile. Something private just between us. To me, it made it all worthwhile.
     And then it happened. They were so called 'discovered' and playtime was over. Music was their life in entirity then. It was hard to fit in a space left big enough for me. On the odd rare occasion, it happened. A quick game of soccer or a day at my pool. But those didn't come around very often. The evening that he called and asked if he could spend the next day, all day, together... well it set my nerves on unsteady pulses. I just had a feeling that something was wrong. That was the day that he told me... right after he kissed me for the last time in a very long time.
   "I'm going away tomarrow." His voice was soft and sad.
   "What?!" I couldn't believe it. He kisses me for the first time since the very first time and he ruins the memory with telling me that he's going somewhere? What do I care?
   "I'm going away." He repeats as if I hadn't heard him the first time.
   "So. I have school tomarrow anyway. We couldn't have done anything anyways 'cause I have soccer practice and I'm sure you have something to do. You always do." I said a bit perturbed. His eyes found mine and he looked so sad.
   "No. I mean I'm going away and I'll be gone for a really long time. I'm going to California Aimee. I'm gonna be gone for months and I won't get to see you or call you much... Aimee I'm gonna miss you so much!" He cried and hugged me hard to his chest. I was at a loss. It was so sudden.
   "Wh... why didn't you tell me before?" I said shakily into his shoulder. He pulled away and held me by the shoulders his eyes baring down into mine.
   "I didn't want to hurt you. I knew that if I told you, you would just have been hurting for longer." He confessed. I was grateful for him wanting to protect me, but really he should have said something before.
   "Will I hear from you?" I asked timidly as the realization set in. I was afraid of loosing one of my friends sure, but he meant more to me then that.
   "I promise I'll call you. And I'll write and email lots too." He gushed.
   "But... when will I see you again?" I was afraid of the answer. He looked down to the ground as if he could read the answer in the dust.
   "I dunno. After we record the album, we'll have to try to get it played and stuff and if we're lucky, we'll go on a promotional tour. But that's a big if." He said, looking up into my eyes and holding out that small grain of hope. I nodded and truned from him. I didn't want him to see the tears that he already knew were there.
   "Well good luck then... it's getting late and I've got to get home. Goodnight." And I walked away. His last words echoing through my mind for the next months until I saw him again.
   "Goodnight Aimee. I really didn't want to hurt you! I love you!"
     I never knew if he meant it, or if he said it out of guilt. I chose to pretend that it was what I wanted. What would it matter anyway. I'd already lost him to the music. She was too tempting a mistress for him.
     The next year was difficult for me. He was very busy, but he still called once in a while. It just wasn't the same though. I didn't expect it to be. The following years got easier to handle, now that I'd had the practice. It still wasn't what I wanted. But I made do... delusions are hard to conquer. He was wildly famous, a house hold name. I was genuinely proud of them. They deserved it for all of their hard work and talent. I saw them when I could, after all, what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't?
     But somewhere along the line, something changed. He changed I think. He sent for me. I obediently came at his beckoning, joining them on tour somewhere in south america i think it was. It doesn't matter now anyway. They were all alike, the shows, the endless days slaving for the public, the mind numbing travels. One day melted into the next for them. Time was a skewed concept to them. He had been more affectionate to me over the last years. His kisses deeper and I thought more meaningful. His touch warmer and more loving as I understood it. Maybe I was just buying into my own illusions, maybe he really did feel something for me. I'm not about to ask him now.
     When I got there he was all affection and sweetness. Doting on me and proclaiming how much he had missed me. I ate it up with a spoon. I was young and foolish. We spent much time together, I thought we were happy. Those long steamy makeout sessions were enough to make my head spin. But when he invited me back to his hotel room... I knew that was a major turning point in my life. I was scared as hell. I accepted none the less.
   To this day I've never had a better or more exciting lover. His passion onstage was the only thing that could rival his performance between the sheets. He tended to me like a goddess. He made me know what it felt like to be a woman. That is one thing I will always be grateful to him for. No matter what ever happens between us from now on, he will always hold that special place in my heart. And I think he knows that too. At least I hope he does.
     For the next year or more we were hot and heavy in our relationship. He was a passionate person and it extended to all areas of his life, including our union. There was even random talk of marriage. Nothing ever really serious. He would bring it up from time to time, I skillfully steered him away from it. Something in the back of my mind just told me it wasn't right or the right time... I don't know what it was, I may never know.
     I do believe we were in Europe somewhere. He was on yet another promotional tour and had sent for me once more. Again I followed like the obedient puppy he expected. His appetite was insatiable. He wanted me all the time. I of course gave into him without ever a question or any resistence. No matter the time or place. But after a while, I started to think. Why? Why was he so needy physically but seemingly unavailable emotionally? Who was he trying to please? Me or him? Did he ever do this to please me?   Did he ever do anything to please me, I mean really for me? I couldn't answer that question and it frightened me. It plagued me for days.
     He had pulled me into a dark corner somewhere backstage, pressing me against the cold wall with his hot body. His desire was a temptation that was not easy to resist. His hands on my body were a symphony crescendo. His kisses held the heated flames of hell itself, yet felt ethereally like heaven. He was always the dominant one. He liked for me to be submissive, to bend to his will. He was holding my hands above my head in one hand, his mouth sucking at the juncture of my shoulder and neck as he ground his hardness into my belly. With his free hand he tore at my clothes. He wasn't often that agressive and on occasion it did unsettle me. Still, I let him have his way. I cringed at the sound of my blouse ripping as he dove for my breasts. He yanked at my bra, not bothering with unclasping it as he spilled the rounded firm flesh from the cups. He bit a little too hard, making me winper in pain which he mistook for pleasure. It aroused him more. He became increasingly needful. His breath heavy and thick on my ear he moaned as he pulled my hand down to his crotch. Moulding it to the hot hard bulge behind his zipper. That was his way of telling me that he needed me to touch him. Now. Expertly I opened his jeans and pulled him free, pumping him firm and slow. His hips bucked, thrusting his manhood into my hand faster. He grunted at the pleasure he was recieving, his hand going under my skirt. It scared me when he tore my panties off. I mean literally tore them from my body. He threw the shreads left of my underware to the ground. His eyes were wild and his nostrils flared like an animal. I suddenly felt very small. I was disoriented when he spun me around fast, shoving me against the wall. My face stung a bit where my cheek was slapped against the unforgiving concrete My breasts pressed cruely into the hard surface, slick with years of coats of paint. He leaned against me, his mouth sucking hard at my exposed neck as his hand tugged my hair so my head would lay to the side for him. With his knee he shoved my legs apart roughly. I was breathing hard, from fear. What had gotten into him? It was like he was a different man. He painfully entered me in one strong swift stroke. I cried out but I don't think he heard me. His hands cruely raked over my body and I felt dirty from his touch. He pounded into me over and over again. I began to cry, the tears streaming down my face. Why didn't I say someting? Why didn't I make him stop? His body moved against mine urgently, I stiffened at his actions but still he worked for his release.
   "Oh fuck baby girl, yes! YES!"
     I wasn't doing anything besides crying. He never even noticed. He exploded inside me with great force as he slammed into me one last time. His heavy body slumped against me for a moment then I felt a slimey stream trickle down my leg when he pulled his spent member from my aching body. He kissed my cheek then the weight lifted from my back. I heard the slide of his zipper and he was gone. Just like that. I felt, alone. abused. neglected. unwanted. unloved. used. I crumbled to the floor and cried. I wasn't any different then someone that had just been raped. Then it occured to me... he'd been doing just that for years. In every concievable way possible. I was his victom.
     I left him that night. He was pissed that I wouldn't tell him why. He ranted that I was a gold digger and that we were finnished. He never wanted to see me again. I let him yell. It didn't matter anymore. It wasn't him I was leaving. He'd left me long ago. He followed me to the door, a stream of obscenities and nasty names spewing forth from his golden throat, dripping from his lips like venom. He chased after me down the hall. Asking me to wait. We could work it out he said. He was getting scared. I could see a glimmer of who he used to be underneath it all. The elevator didn't come fast enough. I took to the stairs. He came along right behind me, barefoot and in his flannel pajama pants. His pleads were hollow as the empty promises that he shoved out of his mouth. So called enticements to make me stay. I burst into the lobby, he was hot on my heels. Every eye in the hotel it seemed was upon us. He grabbed my arm, spinning me around dizzily to face him. I looked up into his beautiful eyes, they were cold. There was nothing left for me in them. His bare chest was heaving and his hair was a mess from just getting up from a nap. Still, he looked more beautiful then ever in his power. It scared me to know that.
   "You can't just walk out on me. Not after all these years Aimee."
   "I can do what I want. You don't own me." I lied.
     He surprized me then. He fell to his knees, wrapping his long arms around my waist and pushing his face into my belly. It made me ache inside for the old him. The real him. I knew this was just a ploy. At least I thought it was...
   "Please Aimee... you can't leave me all alone!" He looked up into my face, unshed tears in his eyes.
     It was so hard to know if it was for real this time. He was so tempting. I swallowed hard, willing the tears not to fall that shivered in my eyes. I stroked his soft hair, a sad smile on my quivering lips. I think he knew then. Knew that I was no longer his to have. I saw that tear fall, sliding down his ripe cheek. I could almost taste the saltyness of it. I pulled from his strong arms that held me in such a soft hold. I backed away from him, slowly. My steps small, but with each stride, I felt stronger. He looked so small and broken then. Like I was made to feel. It hurt me. His shoulders slumped, his hands went up to cover his face as he hung his head to sob. I think that it was then that he realized it. It was over and it was his fault. But it was too late to mend things with me. He'd driven me away. I turned away, headed for the door but I could still see him in the reflection of the door. His whole body fell to the floor defeated, his face burried in the thick carpet. As I passed through the door I heard his anguished cry. It tore at my heart. But I continued on, letting the staff at the hotel deal with his temper that would soon wreck havoced destruction on their lobby. I knew him. As I got into the waiting cab I glanced inside when I heard the breaking of glass and his angered scream in animalistic tones. I sighed and closed the door. I left him behind that time.
     I was still friends with his family. Just because we weren't together anymore didn't mean I couldn't be civil. We nicely avoided each other. It hurt me to know that I'd let him dominate me in such a way for so long. It hurt him to know that he'd lost me so stupidly and that there was no chance of getting me back. We learned to live through it. I think we were better people for it. I know I was stronger. I know because one summer he started hanging around more. They were on hiatus. His brother's wife was expecting soon. They decided to stay close to home until the baby was at least a few months old. They were all more then ready for the break. They wrote an awful lot of good music that year. One of their best albums so far was the result of that summer.
      I was living a few streets away from my parents house. I had a small house that I shared with two other girls. Splitting the cost was easier on my bank account and I was close to both work and my family. I was happy. But he just all of a sudden showed up on my door step one night. Karla answered the door and she was petrified beyond belief. He was so drunk he stumbled in before she could do anything about it. She was trying to hold him up and screaming for me when I got to the bottom of the stairs. He was just mumbling my name over and over, crying on her shoulder. I guess he wasn't dealing with it as well as I was. Maybe I was wrong about him. Again.
     We carried him to the couch, letting him crash there after I'd quickly and embarresdly explained to her why he was there after she'd recognized him. I slept in the chair beside him that night, holding his head for him when he got sick. He cried in my lap afterwards. He begged me to come back. I knew it was only the alcohol talking. I put him back on the couch to sleep it off. In the morning he was in a lot of pain. I helped him into the shower, washed his hair for him and got him some clean clothes. I borrowed a pair of Jackie's sweats, they were a bit short on him but they covered him. I still had a sweatshirt of his. I gave it back. He was hunched over a cup of coffee in the kitchen, trying in vain to cover his eyes from the bright sunlight when Jackie came home. She was exhausted from a long shift at the hospital and was a bit giddy in her tiredness. When she lay eyes on him and realized who he was and that he was wearing her pants... she laughed. Loud and long. she laughed. He cringed in utter turmoil as I shushed her out of the room and quietly explained to her the situation. She laughed all the way to bed.
     I washed his clothes for him. He got dressed again and called his brother for a ride home. He stood in the door, his brother leaning against the car as he waited for him. His eyes were so sad. Real sad, not just pretending. He reached out and touched my face, stroking his rough fingers over my cheek lightly.
   "Thank you Aimee."
     And he was gone again. He was tempting me once more. Was I strong enough to resist him now? I certainly hoped so.
     After that, he called once in a while. I saw him from time to time around. He'd stop by, just to say hi or to give me something he'd picked up that he thought I'd like. He was a new man. Or at least he appeared to be. I still kept my distance, though he was clearly trying to build up our friendship again. I'd been hurt by him once. The wound was deep.
     One day he stopped by my work. It caused a little stir. He got a kick out of it and I scolded him for it. He was grinning like he was twelve years old again. It was good to see some of his old self again. I'd missed it. I'd missed it a lot. He asked me to go to a concert with him. I was leary to fall into that again. He saw my hesitence and quickly tried to soothe my fears. He promised, it was just as friends. I reluctantly agreed. We had fun too, I'll have to admit that. It was the first in a long string of 'dates.' After a while, he started hanging around my house more. He'd wait for me to come home from work, just to talk. It was kinda nice. We'd make dinner together, watch the game on tv and he'd hug me good bye at the end of the night. Some nights I was even sorry to see him head out to drive home.
     One day, we were in the back yard, he had steaks on the barbeque, tending to them as I sat on the swing, we we just talking casually. He closed the lid, looking at me. I smiled at him, giving him a weird look for he was just... looking at me. He sat next to me, turning to look at me again. I let it pass for soon enough he started our casual conversation back up again. Then, out of the clear blue he took up my hand and kissed it gently.
   "Aimee?"
   "Yes?"
   "Would you do me a huge favor?" He squeezed my hand.
   "That depends."
   "Would you go to a party with me?"
   "What kind of a party?"
   "Well, a wedding actually. My cousin Sandy is getting married. I kinda sorta need a date." He looked into my eyes with such hope. I laughed lightly, it made him grin.
   "Sure." He pulled me to him, kissing my cheek.
   "Thank you! Oh I love you! You have no idea how hard it is to go to those family functions and have people ask me when I'm getting married and settling down to start a family. Half of the time they look at me like they suspect I'm gay or something." He chuckled. I laughed.
     We were in a good place with each other again. It had been a long time, too long. My one thought was that our friendship was finally mended. I was actually looking forward to his cousin's wedding. Through the time between then and the wedding, he came over almost every day. I really didn't think too much of it at the time. He would bring dinner, chinese take out or pizza and a single iris. My favorite. He would drag me out to go shopping with him, claiming he desperately needed help finding a new suit. I didn't believe it, but I went along anyway. He would eventually lead me on a wild goose chase, then we would end up in odd places like the jewlery store or a housewares boutique. His excuse was shopping for a wedding gift. I ignored it. But when he dragged me by the hand into a wedding boutique, I was feeling uneasy. I was more then grateful to get out of there. He asked me if I'd found a dress yet. When I told him that I was just going to wear one that I already had, he was adamant about getting one for me. I was not too crazy about that idea. But it seemed to make him happy. So I let him.
     The next day he was at my door, bright and early for he knew it was my day off. I hadn't even dressed yet. I opened the door and he chuckled as he passed by me, squeezing through. I'd not said a word or made a gesture to let him into my house. He just entered. I let it slide.
   "Nice jammies."
   "Well if I knew you were going to be here before the chickens got up I would have dressed." I told him, shutting the door. He made himself comfortable, leaning on my fridge door as he looked in to see if there was anything good to eat. He snatched up a piece of cold pizza and took a bite. He made a face and threw it back in, slamming the door and once more facing me.
     "Haven't you gone to get dressed yet? Get a move on woman, we've got some serious stuff to do today."
     He may have said it with a chuckle. But it felt heavy to me. Weighted like the past. I didn't say anything and went up the stairs to dress. For some reason now I wasn't looking forward to his cousin's wedding anymore. It had created this vacume that I was in now. I was feeling sucked in. Spiraling downward into my past mistakes. It only got worse as the day went on.
     We were in a small store, I had picked out several dresses, some of them because he said he liked them. I tried to reason with myself that I was only going to try them on because he was after all paying for the dress wasn't he? What harm could it do? I was in the dressing room, struggling with the zipper when he knocked.
   "Ok in there?"
   "Yeah."
   "Need any help?"
   "No thanks. I got It."
   "Can I see?"
   "I suppose."
     I opened the door timidly. He smiled down at me. A rush of old feelings and emotions flodded me.
   "That looks nice."
   "I guess. It's not quite right though."
   "Okay, then try on another." His hand smoothed up my shoulder. I shivered, but I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing.
     I tried on several more, he kiddingly ordered me to model them for him as he sat ouside the dressingroom door. Somehow I got the impression of what it felt like to be a kept woman. I didn't care for it. It reminded me of the time before. Once music was the mistress in his life. Then he was married to the music, devotedly so, and I was the mistress so to speak. I couldn't go back to that. I wouldn't let myself go back to that. Still, I pushed it away. Denial is a strong event.
     I had tried on far too many dresses. Then I found one that I really liked, I thought it made me look really good too. I was pleased with it and I didn't think the price was too outrageous. Despite him being well off, I was still loathe to spend too much money. But I couldn't get the zipper to budge and it was in an odd place that was hard to reach.
   "Could you come here and help me? The zipper is stuck."
   "Sure." He opened the door and I looked up to him. He was standing there with jaw unhinged and eyes glazed over.
   "What?" He shook his head as if I had just snapped him out of a daze.
   "N.. nothing..." He stuttered. Then he stepped into the little room and stood behind me as I faced the mirror. He worked the zipper up slowly, easily, his warm hands sliding up my body. It was suddenly a few degrees warmer in the tiny room. When the zipper reached the top his hands moved to my shoulders, kneading the flesh over bone. He was standing so close to me, I could feel the heat from his body. I saw his eyes in the mirror as he stood behind me. They were dark and I knew that look of his. I knew it very well for I had seen it thousands of times before. He was aroused and he wanted satisfaction. He pressed closer to me, I could feel his hardness brush against my backside as his mouth lay a soft kiss on my shoulder, close to my neck.
   "You are beautiful. So beautiful Aimee..."
     I closed my eyes. Willing the torturous feelings away from me that were welling up. He was tempting me again. Why? After all this time why couldn't I just say no to his desires? His lips placed one more kiss, running his lower lip up my neck. I shivered. I opened my eyes and saw us there, in the mirror, and it reflected my past. Our past. It frightened me. I pulled away, turning and placing my hands on his firm chest. I pushed him away gently and towards the door. Somehow I had managed to get him out of the cramped space and I took deep breaths after locking the door. I leaned against the wall. The tears threatening to fall almost immediately. I heard his labored breathing from the other side of the door as he tried to get his body back under control. His voice came to me, small and sorry, so full of pain.
   "Aimee? I'm so sorry Aimee... I don't know what got into me! Please, don't be mad at me... Please? I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life... I'm lost without you! I can't loose you again! Please Aimee, say something!" He begged.
     I took a deep shuddering breath, reaching for the lock on the door I opened the portal slowly. His eyes met mine and he saw that I accepted his appology. He rushed toward me, engulfing me in a crushing hug, he started to sob on my shoulder. He fell to his knees, his arms around my hips as he cried into my belly. I took it as sincerity on his part. He was well and truely sorry. At least I hoped he was.
     We didn't buy that dress. I just couldn't stand to look at it let alone wear it. It had too much baggage attached to it. We settled for a more demure black one with a grey wrap. It was a bit somber, but it seemed to fit the mood we were now in. After he took me home, I didn't see or hear from him for two days. I was worried. I called his mother. She assured me that he was fine. He was just holed up in their studio. He'd been in there for two days she said. Told me she had to force him to eat. Now I was more worried. He was once again leaning on his mate, music. He was emotional about his ex-mistress... me.
     If nothing else, he was still my friend, and I decided he needed me to be just that right now. Show him that I still was. I went to him, stopping by his apartment and lieng to the landlord to get in. I gathered up some things for him, picked up the place a bit and drove over to their studio. His brothers were there. They greeted me warmly. Said he'd been there far too long and his fingers were bleeding from playing so long. They'd managed to get him to stop, but now he was isolated in a dark booth and laying down track after track of heart wrenching soulful song, but his voice was wearing out. They told me that it was almost as bad as when I had left him. I pushed away the urge to cry. Defeated, they left me to tend to him. Hope shining in their eyes that I could succeed where they had failed. I dismissed the technition, leaving just we two in the studio, though he did not know it.
     I opened the door to the small room. It was dark, only lit by a few candles. He sat with his back to me and I could hear the music being pumped still through his earphones. His voice then flowed, it was a sound of pure torture. I could hear the ache, physical as well as emotional. It was horrificly beautiful. I quietly stepped into the room and set down the bag of his belongings and such I'd brought. As I listened, I approached him slowly. I was almost afraid to reach out to him. But it was clear that he needed someone. Needed me. I touched his shoulder, lovingly, for I did still love him. His voice died away, his head hung and his shoulders shook. Somehow he knew it was me. Maybe it was because he'd known me almost all his life. Maybe it was because he was hoping for me to come to him. It didn't matter anymore anyway. I was there for him. I went around to face him and he fell into my embrace. He cried. Body wracking great heaves. I held him and we cried together.
     We didn't speak. I don't think there was a need to. We left the little room behind. I blew out the candles quickly and picked up the bag. He leaned on me heavily and we walked to my car. I decided to take him back to his place. I had had every intention of taking him to my house and talking to him, settling everything with him. I never expected him to be so bad off. I was wrong about him. Again.
     When we got to his place he never even noticed that I had picked up some. Nor did he notice that I had his leather satchel with his clothes in it as I tossed it to the bed. He sat down heavily, his head hanging. I knelt before him and took his large hands in mine. They were so battered and bruised. It broke my heart. I tried to make him look up into my eyes, but he was so lost. I reached up and stroked his stubbly cheek, lifting his chin so his eyes could meet mine. Tears shimmered, ready to fall threatening to make him come unhinged completely.
   "I'm sorry." He said as the fat tears rolled down his cheeks.
   "I know. But you appologized for that. I thought we were past that already."
   "Not for yesterday, well I'm sorry about that too. I mean about all the other times... every time before. I'm sorry for the way I treated you. Nobody deserves to be treated that way."
   "That's over now. I survived. I'm ok now."
   "I'm not. I never got over you Aimee. I've never been able to leave it behind."
     I never knew. I didn't know that he had had such a hard time after I'd left him. I felt like it was my fault for leaving this man so broken. I felt like it was all my fault. I thought that maybe that was how he had felt when I had left him. I wanted to soothe his aching heart.
   "We seperated yes. But it wasn't all bad."
   "I need for you to tell me the truth Aimee. I need to hear it from you. I need to know that I didn't destroy that wonderful woman that I fell in love with. Does it still hurt you as much as it hurts me Aimee? Does it?"
     "I don't want to hurt you anymore. But I never knew you had so difficult a time after I left. I got through it. I learned to live again. I'm still here. Are you?"
     The pain of my words sliced through him and I hurried to put my arms around him, embrace him with healing love. He was struck with body wracking sobs as he clung to me. Holding to me so tight as if he was sustaining his very existance from the warmth of my soul. I pushed myself up onto the bed beside him and he held me to him, pouring his sorrows into the wails of pain that terrorized him. He nearly crawled into my lap, that large man curled up against me like the smallest of children.
     Every pained cry was cleansing the demons from him and I watched as he was washed from his anguish one salted drop at a time. It was as if he was reborn during that metamorphosis and I witnessed it all. I held him, rocking with him until his sobs abated enough to afford him more air and allowed him to breathe more normally. I stroked the hair from his face and tried to soothe him with tender words. After quite a while he sat up, sniffling and wiping the tears on the back of his wrist. We shared a small smile, one of understanding. I reached up and wiped the tears that clung to his long lashes that framed his reddened eyes. His lips were swollen and the tip of his nose was red on his flushed face from crying. He'd never looked more beautiful. I brushed my thumb over his swollen lips and he kissed the pad of my fleshy digit in gratefulness. It was a tender act, one that let him know that he was a man now more then ever before, to me, and I think to himself as well. He reached up and covered my hand with his then he pulled me down to lay beside him. He drew me toward him, placing my cheek against his firm chest as he curled around me. It wasn't long before he was sound asleep, perhaps the first good nights sleep he'd had in years. I watched him for a while, my eyes caressing the strong features of his handsome face as my fingers lightly traced the soft lines. Maybe we could try again. Maybe we could make it work this time. Maybe. Maybe not. The only way to find out was to try.
     We never really talked about it, we just sort of fell back into it. It didn't take us long to get comfortable in our new roles. We had taken our time building that part of our relationship back up again. I was glad for it. I think it was better for us that way. It blossomed though, at his cousins wedding as a matter of fact. We were dancing at the reception, softly swaying to the airy jazz as we pressed together cheek to cheek. Then he kissed me. It had been so long since I'd felt that kiss. His real kiss, the one that made me feel so real, so loved. It far surpassed all expectations, it was sureal in divinity. The rest of the night was a blur of catching up with some of those old feelings we used to share. It was our own slice of heaven.
     After a few months I felt comfortable enough to give myself to him again. I had to tell him first that he was the only man, there had never been another. I felt uncomfortable doing it, but I thought he had a right to know. He was genuinely touched if not a little surprized. He felt a like gesture was due in order, and he confessed to me his transgressions. None of which really surprized me except one thing. He admitted that he had tried to forget me with many women, it hadn't worked. It couldn't work he thought for he could never actually do the deed. He told me he had spent many a frusterated night in the arms of a beautiful woman, but there was never the satisfaction of climax to ease his ache. He'd turned out countless confused beauties from his hotel door at odd hours, just so he could jack off to the thought of me. I was dumbstruck. How had it gotten so bad between us then? Where had it all gone wrong? If he was so infatuated with me that he suffered so, then why had he turned into that other version of him? That darker side of him that was so cruel to me in such an unassuming way. What was it about me that was so like a drug to him and it turned him ugly? It frightened me and I decided to take it very slow from there. I needed to keep a watch for the changes, curb them if I could so I could know that we would be safe from that happening again. I needed to safeguard us from the past for our future.
       We hadn't rushed into anything. It was actually a few weeks after our confessions that it happened. We were at his place and he had made dinner for me. It was very nice and we were quietly enjoying one another's company as we cleaned up. Our conversation soft and the lights low in the diningroom. His hand brushed mine as we both reached for the empty wine bottle. It was enough to draw our eyes to one another. His fingers slid over mine. He took up my hand, slowly pulling it up to his warm lips. He kissed my inner wrist, his eyes never leaving mine. His touch so tender and real. I was going to give in to temptation, and I knew it. He lay a long line of tiny kisses up my arm as he drew me closer. I lay aside the dishcloth in my hand and caressed his face lovingly. He got even closer as he pulled me to him. I could feel the heat of his flesh and smell his intoxicating aura of pure man. His mouth was on my shoulder and he pulled the fabric away to taste of the flesh beneath it. I tilted my head to let him have better access and thrilled at his fingers creeping up over my hip. He kissed his way up my neck, the tingles running through my body like a current of electricity. His whisper was ice on my skin, but it ignited a flame undying.
   "Aimee... I want you."
   "I want you too."
   "Can I have you?"
   "Yes..."
     He was pleased with the answer he'd gotten, he kissed me, deeply. Then he scooped me up, carrying me to the bed as he lavished attention on my mouth and scattered tiny kisses over my face. He kicked the door open and strode forth with determination. He lay me down so gently , it was as if I were the fragilest of glass, ready to break at the slightest breath. In slow silence we undressed each other. Soft kisses rained on me from his exquisite mouth, taking my breath away with each one. My body was on fire, that familiar ache that only he could ease.
     It was the dawn of a new age and he explored my body like a pioneer that had set foot on glory land. Every rushing thrill was more intense then the last one. His touches tasted of heaven and his kisses were tinged with the fury of hell. He suckled at my breast as if it flowed with wine. My body responded with jolts of pure delight, arching toward him with want of more in greedy fashion. Everything he gave to me I asked of more. It had been so long since he had sated me. He tended me as if he were making up for old sins and covering up scars of the past. But when he pulled my hand to his enormous throbbing manhood, then I knew we were breaking entirely new ground and he was just loving me with all he had left in him from years of denial. His voice sang with ethereal moans when I touched him. It made my soul soar.
     My every cell quaked with anticipation when he rose over me, ready to enter and join us into one entity. My breath was held in readyment for my new baptisim into the temple of his body. I would worship him physically now. With slow deliberaton he slid into my body and I cried out with the overwhelming explosion of divinity of his very presence in me. He swallowed up my cries of joy and jubilation with kisses that were surely crafted in heaven. His body moved against mine with ancient friction, a song was our lovemaking. It was a song of joy.
     With each push of his body into mine it was a step towards ultimate existence. With each pull, slow and hard from my ache, it was a breath of life. He rocked me to that timeless rhythm, the one that is born unto every soul in the cradle of their life from the moment they spark to life in the womb. How he moulded to my body as he made love to me, the way he ripped apart the heavens to pour it's wisdom into my heart with his every stroke, it was beautiful. It made me cry. Every tear shed a tear of purest joy that he was once more mine. That we were again together. Just us in the wide expanses of life, real, whole and free of encumberments.
     Such joy I had never known before. My mind shook with the realization of just what he was doing to my body when he wrenched my soul free of it's tether, making it wrap tightly as it curled around his. Never had my reaction to him been so strong as that one single shining momrent we shared our orgasms. When the earthshattering waves were stilled and the world began to spin again, he pressed his damp lips to my throat.
   "I will always love you Aimee." His whisper like fingers of ice over the wet flesh beneath his words. It made me shiver to my very core.
   "And I can never stop loving you." I spoke softly into his damp dark gold hair.
     There were no longer any temptations. What he offered was solid and real. It was given freely with a warm heart and freed mind. Everything in our past was left behind us, where it belonged. I no longer questioned the dark days we strugled through. Sometimes, the things you don't know are for your own good.