Lying in bed in the middle of the
night, staring at the ceiling and not being able to relax and go to sleep was
nothing new for him. For as long as he
could remember he had trouble sleeping at times. Some nights he passed out as soon as his head
hit the pillow. Other nights, like this
night, he would lay there and not be able to turn his mind off. But some of those nights he couldn’t point a
finger at why he couldn’t shut his mind off.
This night he had a reason. Two, in fact.
The first was the incident, as he
called it. It had been two days and he
had four more days to go. Then, it’d be
official. He’d be a basket case. He wasn’t just nervous about going to this
Dr. Baitman, he was terrified. He didn’t want to go and have the damn guy
tell him that his whole life was one big screw up or that these dreams meant he
was psychotic or that he needed to be drugged up. And the thing he was most scared of all was
going in there, spilling everything about himself, the dreams, Britney, his lifestyle,
his parents, his childhood, his adulthood, and the doctor just sitting there,
pen to his teeth, eyebrows furrowed, thinking hard. And then the sickening words, “Justin, I’m
sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with
you.”
He rolled over and clutched his
pillow, trying hard not to let himself cry.
He had done that enough. His
mother had drove him home after the incident with the
badass front she had put on in front of the guys. But as soon as they got home, she
crumbled. He hated seeing her that worried
and upset for him. And he didn’t know
what he’d do if he kept making her cry.
He hated that. He hated seeing
the women he loved cry.
But he was glad she was there with
him. It was silly of him, but he was so
thankful she was there. He had pushed
her away before, but now he didn’t know how he had been functioning through
this breakup without her. They had come
home and cried together and talked together and she had made her kick-ass baked
ziti just for him. Then they had popped
in a movie. It had been a while since he
had just hung out with his mother. She
was his rock. That night she had settled
herself into the guest bedroom, and he was embarrassed and ashamed to say that
around
And then there was Trace.
He had talked to Trace for the
first time earlier in the day. They made
up, which deep down he knew they would, but on the surface he made sure his
best friend knew that he felt like shit and was sorry for lashing out like
hat. The bruise on his eye was still
there, but Trace made sure to make fun of him and tell him that he punched
worse than a 10 year old girl. Trace
encouraged him to go to the shrink as well as making fun of him about that very
fact. He was going to play golf with him
the next day, and he was happy to have that part of his life be normal.
And he had thought, only for a
moment, sitting there eating with Trace, telling nasty jokes about the paparazzi
dude that kept taking pictures of them, that his life was getting back on
track. He was single, true, but most
people in the country his age were. He
was going to a shrink, but that was only to help get his life on track. And he hadn’t had a dream with her in a
while. Well, for about a month.
Now, he was laying there staring
at the ceiling, half because of his crazy life at the moment, but the other
half, and probably more so, because of the dream he had woken up from. She wasn’t back, well, not technically. He didn’t see her in the dream, but he was in
desperate search of her. He was in a
house at first, frantically opening every door, hearing his echo of her name
tickle his ears. It started to sound
like laughter when he ran out of the unfamiliar house and down the street. He came to an intersection where there was a
traffic jam because of a wreck. She was
in that wreck. He knew it and he
sprinted to the car that was squished like it was an accordion, but no one was
in it. In fact, no one was in any of the
cars. An old man, smoking a cigar with a
bald head but a full grey beard told him to go to the hospital. With in seconds he was there, shouting out
her name.
Then a nurse came to him, told him
to be quiet or leave and that there wasn’t a girl named Darcy in the
hospital. “She’s not here,” the nurse
said in a commanding but soft tone. But
he could have sworn she said, “She’s not real.”
He let out a slow, deep, long
breath and contemplated getting back in bed with his mom. But he didn’t want to have to add that to the
list of things he needed to “talk” about with the doctor dude.
His eyes were so awake that when
he shut them it almost hurt. He just
wanted to relax, just a little. But
sleep wouldn’t come, and neither would relaxation.
Soon he heard the low hum of a TV. It was weird because he knew it was the TV
downstairs, but he had never been able to hear it before the many nights
Britney had been down there watching television and he had been asleep. He figured his momma had woken up, so he
decided to go down there and watch a movie or infomercial with her until they
both fell asleep.
He pulled some track pants over
his boxers and then scratched his head and yawned as he opened his door. He let his hand slide easily over the railing
of the stairway and lazily plopped his feet down on each step, taking him
further down into his house. He turned
the corner, closed his eyes in a huge yawn and licked his lips as he stepped
into his living room.
The TV caught his attention: Oxy Clean infomercial. He chuckled to himself and went to go lean
back in the recliner. He sat down and
looked over at his mother, laying down with a quilt over her that his grandma
had made.
But it wasn’t his mother.
“Hey Justin…” She said with a yawn.
He paused in the middle of trying
to push his weight back on the chair so it would fold out. He gulped, she was back. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
She stretched underneath the
blanket, completely non-chalant about the whole situation, unaffected by him
being so affected with her. She was
acting like nothing had happened between them.
“Can’t sleep. You?”
He decided not to lay back and sat
up on the edge of the chair, leaning over and staring at her, his elbows on his
knees. “Same.” He paused. “I thought you
were gone.”
She replied, “Nope.”
“Oh…” It made him feel weird that she was more into
the TV than him.
But that changed and her voice
softened and she turned away from the TV for a moment and looked at him with
the most sincere face. “Hey.” He looked into her soft eyes and she smiled
for a moment and then it went away. “I’m
sorry…ya know, about Britney and everything.”
“You are?” He was surprised.
“Kinda shitty how it all went
down.” She scooted up on the couch and
leaned her back on the armrest. She was
wearing a white tank top and her hair was down and wavy. She looked beautiful.
He shook his head, he shouldn’t have
been thinking like that. “Yeah…”
“You ok?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.
“Mom’s sending me to a doctor.”
Their eyes met, “I know.”
“To get rid of you.”
She looked down at the floor. “I know.”
“Darcy...” He sighed her name and she lifted her head to
him. He knew she was trying not to
cry. He had seen that look before.
“I just, I wanted to see you
again. If this guy gets rid of me, I
just…” She paused. “I needed to be with
you.”
She picked up the remote when it
was silent for a while and he watched her, unable to think of anything to say,
feeling stuffy in the awkwardness filling the room. He stood up from the recliner and she didn’t
pay attention to him as he walked over to her. “Got room for me?”
She smiled. “Always.”
He thought for a moment about lying
opposite of her and then let that thought fly away. He needed affection. He needed to be loved like he knew she would
love him. And he hated to admit it, but he
had missed her.
He eased down on the couch beside
her and once he settled in with her half lying on him, she pulled the quilt
back around them and snuggled deep into his bare chest. She wrapped one of her arms around him and
rubbed her bare feet against his. He had
missed this.
He felt a small kiss placed right
above his nipple. Comfort. It was wonderful.
He reached across to the coffee
table and picked up the remote, then clicked the TV off. He ran a bare foot down the back of her
calf. It was smooth, as always and
suddenly he had a desire, a desire that had vacated his body ever since Britney
had walked out of the house. Her hand on
his naked side and abdomen made him think of her hands elsewhere and he
couldn’t help himself when he looked down at the top of her head and wished for
her to look up so that he could kiss her.
“Darcy…” He whispered huskily.
She didn’t look up at him, but she
did move. She scooted herself upward and
he took the opportunity to slide down.
He felt her lying beside him, facing him, her leg curled over his midsection
so that her thigh conveniently rubbed over the crotch of his track pants. Her eyes met his and they were so dark, so
deep and that smile on her face was just for him.
Her lips touched his and she
started to smile. He knew her, he knew
she’d play a game and pull away shyly, but he wasn’t going to let her be shy
tonight, not if this was the last time he got to be with her. His hand rounded the back of her head,
tangling the dark strands in-between his fingers and pressed forward, making
her smile disappear and her tongue come out to play.
Her hands held on to his shoulders
and his other hand wrapped around her back, pulling her straight on top of him
so he could feel all of her and press himself into her.
Her tongue was smooth against his
and soft. She moaned slightly against
his open mouth, almost more like a hum. He breathed deeply as she moved a
little to put her legs on either side of him.
The quilt got tangled in between their feet and legs. It was a nuisance and causing him to pay more
attention to it, than her. He pulled
away from her mouth and tugged at the quilt.
He chuckled breathlessly, “Damn
cover…”
“Justin,” She said.
He answered, “Hmmm…”
“What if I never see you again?”
He let the quilt drop to the floor
and laid there beneath her, catching his breath, staring at her as her wide
brown eyes looked into his, hurt, sad, searching for him to say something to
make it better. He closed his eyes and
sighed, pulling his arms around her and bringing her down onto his chest. He rested his chin on her hair and held her
close, feeling her body hold him even closer, afraid to let him go.
He thought to himself, even if she
was his imagination or unreal or just a dream, she really did know how to make
him feel loved. And when he looked in
her eyes he saw the same thing that was there in Britney’s eyes the first year
or two. It was simple, whether she was
real or not. She loved him.
And it was that very thing that
kept him coming back, kept him searching for her, and kept him from getting
over her. He couldn’t tell if he was in
love with her back, but he was enraptured in the feeling of her loving
him. She was pure and her love for him wasn’t
clouded with motives or duties. His time
with her was easy, stress free. It was
only the time after he woke up that freaked him out.
He sighed, “If-if you never see me
again, then…” He didn’t know how to
respond. He didn’t know what to say to
smooth the pain for her. He didn’t question
whether she could really be in pain.
Even if she was a figment of his imagination, her reaction to his words
would tell him, real or not, that he had done something to hurt her.
“It’s ok,” She whispered against
his skin. “It’s ok.”
He closed his eyes, feeling that
need to be with her surge over his body like some weird force. It was similar to the feeling of nausea, but
this feeling was pleasant, and he wanted it to stay. He licked his lips and closed his eyes,
holding her tighter, realizing that he could feel her. He could feel
her. No buzz. Dreams for him were usually like movies. They were scenes that he watched, but didn’t participate
in, even if he saw himself in the dream.
But he could feel her. Her body
was soft against his, but pushed with enough weight so that he knew she was
there.
He wanted her everywhere. “Darcy, let me have you.”
Her lips were suddenly by his ear,
her body shifting over him, her hand sliding lower. “You don’t have to ask
Justin. You never have to.”
Her tiny hand touched him through
his pants and he gasped. Her small
fingers squeezed over him and when he saw her wide, innocent brown eyes looking
at him for approval, he closed his own eyes and moaned. She was driving him crazy and he had to grab
onto something. He conveniently wrapped
his hand around the back of her neck, pushing her mouth down onto his. His hand surged up under her tank top and he held
onto her breast, pulling a moan out of her mouth as well.
It had been so long.
It had been so long since he had
felt this way. A million emotions rushed
through him all at once. All he wanted was to have her, forever…in his arms. She tasted perfect. She felt perfect. She was everything he wanted.
Hurried breaths filled the room,
as clothing was fumbled with. He sucked air in quickly when he felt the tips of
her breasts brushing against his chest as she hovered over him. Her hand desperately tried to slither
underneath his track pants so she could unbutton the crotch of his boxers and
slide her hand inside. The task seemed
too difficult so he pulled his hands off her bare, slender back and used them
to pull on the elastic of his pants and boxers.
He pulled them down on his thighs and looked at her wide eyed.
She just stared at him with a
smile.
Her palm on him was the last
straw. “Oh God,” He gasped. He had almost forgotten the feel of a woman’s
hand; light but firm, powerful though she seemed so timid, sitting there
upright and staring at him with a curious yet innocent smile. She didn’t take her time, she sped up quickly,
forcing him to grab the back of the couch and her thigh for composure. He bit his lip and tensed his muscles. Then they relaxed and he took a breath,
managing that one little wave. “We,” he
started breathlessly. “We gotta move.”
She slowed down a little and
cocked her head playfully to the side. “Why?”
“I, I just…” He stopped and let
his eyes roll back in his head. “I want
more. I don’t want this here. Please.”
Her hand left him and he felt a
little let down, afraid that maybe he had annoyed her. But when he brought his eyes back to focus she
was looking down at him, standing up, her half naked body glowing in the dim light,
her smile radiating. “Come…”
That simple word sent goose bumps
over his skin like a light breeze. His
nipples hardened and he felt himself on the brink of some forbidden
boundary. It was like one of those
places his parents would tell him not to go when he was a kid such as the woods
behind his grandma’s house. He’d go
anyway and it was the most magical place on earth. But it was dangerous, like the time he and
Trace got a little too close to a hornet’s nest, or the time he came really
close to being bit by a copperhead.
She was dangerous but he couldn’t help
himself. He put his hand in hers and
followed her through the room, up the stairs, and down the upstairs
hallway. She looked over her shoulder at
him when they reached his doorway and smiled a gentle smile. He looked her over. Her dark brown hair was waving gently over
her shoulders and down her naked back. Her
small cotton shorts barely covered her rear and he smiled, stepping forward and
squeezing her ass firmly in his hands. A
giggle escaped her lips as she pushed the door open and let him follow her,
right behind her, into his massive room.
He moved to turn the light on and
she stopped him, grabbing his wrist and directing it towards her mouth. It was a soft movement, her lips sucking
gently on his pulse point, but it was enough to make his mouth dry and his body beg to touch more of her, to feel her next to him,
around him, in him.
But he couldn’t move, not with her
lips softly and slowly moving up his arm.
She nuzzled his skin and smiled, gently biting down on to the skin of
his bicep, “I love you, Justin.”
“I know…” He smiled at her and tilted his head. “Come ‘ere.”
She moved into his arms easily and he made sure that when he kissed her,
he pressed himself into her, so she could feel how much he wanted her. God, he wanted her. Her skin felt so good against him and he couldn’t
help himself when he let his hands go below the waist of her shorts and touch
the skin of he backside. He squeezed her
and made her smile, using that force to put more pressure on himself. “I can’t wait to make love to you.”
She smiled and laughed at him
between kisses, pulling him back as she walked on her tiptoes to the bed. “You’re
so impatient.”
“Can I help it you make me this
hard?”
He moved to sit down with her
after she sat down on the edge of the bed, but she put a hand up and said in a
hurried whisper, “No, no…stay there.”
He looked down at her in the dim
lighting and he honestly thought he couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else in his
life as much as her. She was
perfection. She was completely his. “Take them off,” She breathed.
He scrambled to pull his track
pants and boxers off and struggled a little to pull
them off, holding on to her outstretched arm for support and laughing at
himself for being so damn eager. He
finally got them off and stood up, feeling her arm he was holding onto move to
pull his body closer to hers. He stood in
between her spread knees, looking at her as she looked all over him. Her mouth was so close to him, but he wasn’t going
to ask her.
He didn’t have to.
Her hands ran up along his body
while her mouth worked around him. He
gasped and let his hands fall to her neck and shoulder, not forcing her but
trying his best to gain some sense of composure. His mouth fell open and he breathed heavily
as he watched her use her lips, tongue and hand to please him. She kept her eyes closed for the most part,
but when she did open them to look up at him he felt he might lose all sense of
time and space. He felt he might fall
through the cracks in the windows and keep falling, never meeting his end,
never stopping his torturous but exhilarating fall.
But it did stop and he looked down
at her wide eyes and knew it was time.
They had played around and maybe they should have done a little more
exploring before they jumped into the act, but he couldn’t wait. When she pushed herself back on the bed, he
knew she couldn’t either.
He crawled over her looking at her
as she moved her hands down to her waistline.
She stopped and shyly looked away.
“Go on…” He breathed, falling onto his side beside her on the bed. He ran his hand lazily over her breasts,
making her nipples hard. He squeezed one
as she lifted her hips to pull her shorts off, his eyes glued to the apex of
her thighs.
She was naked and he didn’t think to
ask her permission when he let his hand smooth over the skin of her tummy and
fall in between her thighs. He knew she didn’t
mind, her hips shifting as he touched her lightly, moving his fingers up and
down, getting a feel of her and making her sigh. She was ready for him. She spread her legs open and begged his name
softly. He knew what she wanted but he wasn’t
going to give in to that just yet.
He wanted to be inside of her, and
that didn’t mean his fingers.
“Let me get on top of you.”
She pushed him away when he moved
over her, saying, “N-no.”
“No? Do you not want-” He was scared she didn’t want
him. She couldn’t stop now; she couldn’t
do this to him now.
She smiled and licked her lips, getting
off the bed completely. “Not that way. Lay back.”
“But-”
She smiled and encouraged him, “You’ll
like it.” Her hands moved under his
ankles and she slid him down on the bed, until his knees were bent and his feet
hit the carpet.
“What are you doing?” He laughed
at her.
She was laughing too, but his
laughter ceased when he realized what she was doing. She bent her knees on the bed beside both of
his hips and sat back on his thighs. She
quieted her giggles and reached for his arm, “Sit up, silly.”
He did as she asked and she took
his arms and pulled them around her. She
sat up, making her seem taller than him and smiled. He felt her hand on his penis and watch as her
body lowered and her smile faded as her head tilted back. “Shit.”
They had both said it.
She rested her head on his
shoulder and he rested his on hers. He
held her tightly, feeling her squeeze him as her muscles clenched around
him. She was so warm and so damn
comfortable. She felt like home. She felt like
She felt like grandma’s peach
cobbler and Christmas at Uncle Bill and Aunt Genie’s farm. She felt like the first
Maybe he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe that was bad. Sex wasn’t supposed to remind you of family
and your hometown. But for some reason
he was reminded of them. But there was
more to it. There was that burning in
the center of his body, the center of his soul, dying to be satisfied. Her hands ran smoothly over his lower back,
her lips kissed his neck. “Ready?” She asked in a whisper.
He turned his head against her and
thought about saying his reply, but instead he nuzzled the crook of her neck
and licked her there as his held on to her hips, steadied her, and began to
rock inside of her. She moaned immediately,
gasping, seeming like she wasn’t use to this.
It had been too long. Her hands
grabbed his shoulders and moments later she had found her own pace, bouncing
lightly on him, rolling her head back and taking all of him inside of her. He found himself glued to her, not able to
force his gaze from her face, taking in her reactions and letting the way she
looked heighten the sensation of how she felt.
Oh, she felt like heaven.
He wrapped his arms around her
once he knew they could keep going without him steadying her hips. He pulled her against him tightly and thrust
up inside of her, moaning when it felt just too damn good. He breathed heavily and turned his lips to
her neck, which was exposed to him the way her head was tilted back. He sucked the skin right below her collar and
breathed against her, “Don’t stop, Darcy.
Don’t you ever stop.”
Her body pushed his forward and a
new angle elicited moans from both of their mouths. Then she pulled back,
resting her hands on his knees. She
breathed heavily. They had stopped. He didn’t know how or why, but they had. He was going to ask her what was going on,
why she did the exact opposite of what he asked when her eyes bore into his,
making him feel like she was seeing into all of his secrets, all of his fears,
all of his thoughts. She licked her lips
and said in a low voice, “Watch.”
He couldn’t help himself but lean
back on one hand, while his other gripped her hip. He could see her, he could see himself. He watched her bite her bottom lip and pull
her hips off him a little and then push back down.
He groaned, forcing his eyes to
watch the most erotic thing he had ever taken part of. His mind was wandering a mile a minute. He wanted to say something, he wanted to do
something, but he found himself mesmerized by watching her make love to him,
watching her body come around his.
“Oh God…” He said aloud.
“This feels so good.”
But his body was screaming. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t take it. It was sweet torture but still torture
nonetheless. He wanted to finish this,
so he could start it up again. He wanted
it to last all night, but it was too much.
He couldn’t handle himself and he shook his head. “It’s too slow. Its way too slow.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I...” He took a deep breath and pushed himself
upright and reached for her, tilting her back into his arms. She whimpered against him and he growled at
her, his mouth inches from hers. “I need
you, dammit.”
He held her while he fucked her. Not stopping for anything. Her moans got shorter and high pitched and
she grabbed at him, holding on for dear life as he rocked her into frenzy. He felt her teeth bite into his shoulder and
knew this was going to be so damn good. He
was going to touch the sky when she pulled it all out of him.
“Come on…” He grunted into her
hair, grabbing her ass and speeding up his process. It felt so good, so good, so fucking good.
It didn’t take long to feel her
nails dig into his skin and hear that long breathy, choppy moan that shook with
the rest of her body. He took a deep
breath and held it, feeling himself uncoil inside of her. It lasted and lasted and lasted until he felt
his lungs take in another deep breath and he blinked a few times to keep his
head from spinning.
She was slumped against him, her
head on his shoulder, and she was smiling, lazily running her hand up and down
his upper arm. He sighed and chuckled once, still trying to gain his muscle
strength back.
Soon he found himself under a cool
sheet, kissing her sloppy and slow, her holding on to him. Her teeth tugged on
his lower lip playfully and he pulled away with a smile. “I want to make love again,” He whispered,
tiredness evident in his gravely voice.
“Sleep first. I’ll wake you up in a half hour, and this
time we will go slow.”
He relaxed and breathed deeply as
her head laid on his chest. “Mmmm, make
it last.”
“Just close your eyes,” She cooed.
“Sleep.”
And he fell asleep instantly. But she didn’t wake him up in the next half
hour. In fact she didn’t wake him up at
all.
He woke up hours later, or perhaps
minutes. The room was lit in a dim
yellow of the morning sun that was peaking through the blinds. The smell of his mother’s pancakes filled his
nostrils and he sighed. She must have
let him sleep. He smiled and stretched,
loving the feel of soft sheets against his naked body. He rolled over to hold her against him.
But he was met with mattress and
crumbled sheets.
She had vanished, of course. It was just like always. It had all been a dream.