A Heart Divided Ch. 03

I got up to throw away the condom and to use the toilet. As I walked back to the bed, I saw Gina on her back, squirming under the sheets. I stood and watched for a moment before realizing she was pleasuring herself. I quickly joined her under the covers and put my hand over hers.

"Would you like some help?"

"Yessss...thank you!" Her eyes were closed and her back was a little arched.

"Hey, just paying my debts."

"Huh?" She was too distracted to follow. My hand had been covering hers, but then she pulled her hand away from the action and let me take over. At the feel of my fingers on her clit, she moaned and rolled away from me. That gave me a better angle for what I was doing, so I spooned behind her and rubbed around and across her button. I worked my other arm under her neck and around to her breasts. Lightly pulling on her nipples, I kissed her shoulder blades and the top of her spine.

Gina had reached a hand around to rub my butt and thigh. She lifted her leg up a bit to give me better access, and I sped up my hand motions. Her breaths came faster and her hips started pushing against my hand. Soon, she was breathing short, gaspy breaths with her open mouth.

"AhhhhHHH! AHH! Gareth...GARETH!! AHHH!"

Gina's legs clamped together and curled up towards her body. Her head jerked forward and her hand covered mine and pushed it harder against her clit for only a second, then she pulled my hand away. I just rubbed her thigh and side as she shook and quivered. I kissed any part of her neck and shoulder I could get to.

"Hold me," she said softly, her eyes closed and her voice shaking.

I did.

*******

Gina drifted off, clutching my arm. I realized that she was so vulnerable after sex. Both times she had curled up and wanted my arms around her. But this didn't seem like the stereotypical, 'girls want to cuddle after sex' phenomenon. She seemed almost frightened or worried. She held on to my arm like I was a life-preserver and she was afraid of drowning.

In my introspection, I recognized that in my case, I was scared of being abandoned and unwanted, so sex was a pursuit of feeling desired and lovable, the need to have someone really with me, wanting to be there. For Gina, it seemed like something else. She was confident in bed, a healthily self-assured lover. But it was afterwards that the chinks in her armor showed.

I was only thinking about it because, for one reason, we were in bed with her asleep in my arms and I had nothing else to do but think. But I was also thinking this through because, as I had told her the night before, I loved her, I cared about her, and I wanted to do or be whatever she needed. But first I needed to understand her.

Looking past Gina to the nightstand, I saw my alarm clock. I thought back to how I used to set the alarm for 5:30am, planning to go study or exercise or to do something else very responsible. But Lynn would reach across me after I fell asleep and turn the alarm off so that I would sleep in with her. I would try to be angry, but feeling her warm body against mine usually put an end to those arguments.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the present. Why was I thinking about Lynn when she was God-knows-where doing God-knows-what with God-knows-whom, and meanwhile a beautiful, kind, intelligent young woman who had just rocked my world twice was sleeping in my arms? It started to become clear that this was going to be a problem. This was the house of my marriage to Lynn, and every part of it broadcast her name, evoking unsolicited memories at inconvenient times. How could I keep bringing Gina here, to a place where she would unknowingly need to compete against all those years of building a life together with Lynn? I started to wonder, and not for the last time, if the best move would be to have a place where Gina and I could build our own memories, our own life together.

Gina didn't sleep long- just a cat nap. When she began to stir, I kissed her cheek. I kissed her every ten seconds or so, ensuring that she woke up knowing that she was loved. Once she finally rolled back to look at me, she arched her back, stretching, then put a hand behind my head in order to draw my lips to hers. After a light kiss on the lips, she asked, "You have today off, right?"

"Yeah. My day is yours."

"Excellent. Because I'm not in any hurry to leave."

"Leave the house or leave the bed?"

"Both...or neither...or...you know what I mean."

Getting out of bed and putting on my robe, I asked, "Would the promise of an omelet get you out of bed and downstairs?"

"Would the promise of a blow job later this morning convince you to bring the omelet up here?"

I looked up at the ceiling and stroked my chin, pretending to consider her offer. "I'm trying to remember how good the blow job was last time..."

That remark earned me a pillow to the face.

"I'll be back in about 10 minutes with our breakfast, OK?"

Gina hopped out of bed and said, "Good. I'm going to shower. And not get dressed after. Sooo...hurry back!" She trotted over to the bathroom, and I watched with appreciation and desire as her tight ass disappeared around the corner.

A few minutes later, as I was finishing up chopping vegetables for the omelets, I heard Gina scream from upstairs, "Gareth!!!" I dropped the knife and raced up the steps. I knew exactly what this was about. It had taken Lynn almost a year to figure out how to get the hot water to work right. She once half-seriously accused me of sabotaging the plumbing, just so I could see her naked and wet when I came in to fix it. I assured her she overestimated my handiness around the house.

Without Gina needing to explain, I reached in and fiddled with the knobs, getting the water warm but not scalding. She thanked me and I ran back down to crack some eggs. I realized I was again bringing memories of Lynn into a day that should be focused on Gina.

Not long after the shower stopped, I was in bed, setting up a tray with omelets, hot tea, and toast. I had also set up my laptop so that we could watch a TV show while we ate. Gina wrapped her hair with a towel and then crawled into bed next to me. We watched the TV show and downed our food- both of us more hungry than we had realized.

We kissed, we touched intimately, we rubbed, he shared secrets. Seeing an opportunity, I asked her, "Gina, do you remember the ballroom last night?"

"Yes," she said, very softly.

"What were you thinking about?"

"I...was thinking that the stars...the night sky...it was all so beautiful."

"Maybe I'm wrong, but there seemed to be something more. Like seeing the sky touched something deep inside you. You got all serious and even looked...well, the word that came to mind at the time was fragile."

"Maybe we'll get to that at some point, Gareth, but not today, and please don't ask me more."

Trying to backpedal and lighten the mood a bit, I said, "Well, I'm just trying to figure out how to get your motor running the way that did, because that's the kind of reaction I'd like to see more of."

Not catching my humor, her eyes far away, Gina mused, "Gareth, the view in the ballroom didn't arouse me or anything. It brought on some complex emotions and frustrations. I usually turn to sex when I want to cover up those emotions. Sex keeps me from feeling."

That was when I realized that there was a sadness and a depth to Gina that few people ever saw, and I didn't know if I could be someone who could hold her hand and go into that darkness with her. It was not that I wouldn't be willing, but I questioned whether my own scars were yet deep enough. I suspected she needed a wounded healer- someone who had been in the same depths and who could show her the way out.