Chiseling Stone

The afternoon went on. He managed to stay busy with small things that needed to be done around his house and he made sure that all was ready for his next trip. He was due to pick up another camper early Sunday morning and deliver it cross country. He would be back that weekend, and if things went well tonight, he would ask Cecilia on another date. "Six days on the road," he whistled, checked himself, and grinned as he headed back outside. He noticed his neighbor's car was parked in the drive and wondered what she'd be wearing when he picked her up.

Chuck drove to the florist, spent some time talking to the young girl behind the counter and left with a small bunch of tulips, and other bright spring flowers. When he arrived back at Cecilia's, he parked in her driveway, as if it had been a date he'd driven miles to get to.

Cecilia looked outside and saw Chuck walking toward her house. He had a cluster of flowers in one hand and that made her smile. She couldn't remember the last time someone had given her flowers. Just as she had the thought, the memory rushed over her. It was while she was in the hospital recuperating after her miscarriage. It had been a traumatic experience for her - an ending to several chapters of her life. Her chest constricted on the pain, which she tried to push away. The doorbell chimed, and for a moment Cecilia balked at the idea of opening it and welcoming Chuck into her home and possibly her heart.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw herself as someone else. Before her stood a beautiful woman with shiny hair, bright eyes, and a beautiful smile. Her features were accented with just a hint of make-up, and gloss for her lips. She had spent money on getting her nails done and pampered her mother with a manicure after their lunch. Her mother had asked her over lunch what was "up" and Cecilia had shared with her that she had a date.

They had talked a little bit about Chuck, but when Cecilia started to second guess herself, she would change the conversation and instead focus it on some of the early morning purchases she'd made prior to meeting her mother for lunch. She had stopped first at Victoria's Secret and had replaced all her thrown away underthings with lace, silk, and satin. The sales clerk had been a big help in boosting Cecilia's confidence, as had several other women who were there for the lingerie sale.

When she had left that store, she was wearing a new pair of matching red bra and panties. The clerk had been more than willing to dispose of her old pieces that her ex had insisted she wear. He was forever hiding her attributes from others, telling her it was for her own good, because she was too "chunky" to be attractive. He had used other words; ones that had forced her to wear the clothes he found suited her best.

As the morning turned into afternoon, with lunch and the manicure and her mother's advice behind her, Cecilia had quickly made a few more purchases that would get her by for the rest of the week, as well as for the night's date. She had gotten home with enough time to spare to shower, shave, apply her make-up and curl her hair.

Make-up was another thing that was as new to her as dolling herself up in general. Her ex had told her there were simply not enough oils, creams, or lotions in the world to make her appear any less ordinary, but as she browsed the display counters and spoken with the beauty consultants, the more she felt empowered to experiment with color.

The door bell chimed again, bringing Cecilia back to the moment. She licked her lips, tasted the cherry gloss and opened the door. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed Chuck's cologne, easy grin and bright eyes. She smiled warmly, stepped back and offered him entry into her home. The sound of her voice was soft and diminutive; she coughed, hoping to clear her throat and present him with a voice that was strong and clear, not one that seemed to cower at his presence.

Chuck stepped in and offered her the flowers. He couldn't help but gaze at the riot of curls that were spilling over her shoulders, nor could he help but notice the snug dress that hugged her bosom, dipping low to show a cleavage that was covered in freckles and one small brown mole. He glanced quickly at the rest of her, taking extra care to admire her hips, legs and sensible heels. When his eyes returned to catch hers, he grinned at her blushing cheeks. "You look stunning," he told her. Sincerity laced his words and he offered her the flowers he held in his large fist.

Cecilia knew she was warming to three shades of pink. She took the flowers and hurried to pull a vase from a cabinet. She filled it with water and dropped the tulips and wildflowers into the vase. Her fingers nervously flounced the array, until she knew she had to turn back and face her guest. When she did so, she tried not to blush more brightly, having caught him staring at her derriere.

Chuck knew he'd been caught red handed... or maybe red-eyed. He laughed softly and apologized, then repeated that she did in fact look "stunning." He offered her his arm and she took it, feeling self-conscious about herself and his gentlemanly ways. It was obvious they were from two different generations. He was treating her like a porcelain doll and she was taken aback by the display of poise and grace he offered her. Already she knew Chuck was unlike anyone she'd ever dated before. A sense of peace settled over her as he led her to the truck, opened the door and helped her into her seat.

Cecilia felt awkward sitting so high in the air. She was a small woman, and sitting in the Silverado made her feel slightly out-of-sorts, almost dizzy. She watched Chuck walk around the front of the cab and noticed how easily he climbed into the big vehicle. After buckling up, he pulled out into the road and they fell silent. They sat stiffly, until Chuck, unnerved by the silence, reached out to turn on the radio. Cecilia shied back at the sudden movement of his arm, but then relaxed, mentally chastising herself for her actions. She couldn't help but look up and catch Chuck's reaction.

"I hope you like Italian," Chuck said. He had been scrambling for a way to break the barrier that was thick in the air, and he thought the radio would be a good choice. As soon as he'd seen Cecilia's skittish reaction to his hand moving toward her, he'd known her issues were deeper than he'd realized. He drove silently before broaching the subject of dinner with her.

"I do very much," she said, "probably more than I should." She subconsciously patted her belly.

Chuck eyed her, lifted a brow and shook his head. "Nothin' wrong with a gal with some meat on her bones," he said.

Cecilia's lip contorted slightly.

"I'm sorry," Chuck said. "I didn't mean that as an insult. I just --- well, you look good and likin' Italian isn't a bad thing."

She smiled, and chalked his comment up to the different generation notion she'd formed earlier. She waved off his compliment, knowing it was something someone had to say on a date.

They arrived at the Italian restaurant and were quickly shown to their table. Once seated and served ice cold glasses of water, the attendant left them to peruse the menu. Cecilia eyed the various succulent dishes and immediately shied away from them. Her ex had often ordered for her, so she gazed at the salads and fruit dishes as well as the low-calorie starred entrees. Her gaze though slipped back over to the creamy sauces and starchy foods.

Chuck watched her wage an inner war. He wanted to pry into her musings, but he also felt she had to decide what to eat herself. He wondered if she was one of those women that would peck at her food, or devour it. He hoped the latter, he wanted her to feel comfortable with him, and to behave as he hoped she wanted, not act like she thought he expected.

"What are you having?" she suddenly asked, pulling his thoughts back to his own choices.

Chuck looked over the appetizers and pointed out the Grilled Chicken and Flatbread with roasted red peppers and mozzarella cheese.

"That looks good," Cecilia said, easily agreeing with his choice.

Chuck couldn't help but notice that a weight seemed to lift off her shoulders. He knew then that tonight was going to be a battle for Cecilia to make her own choices. He thanked the Lord above that she hadn't backed out on the night all together. "Okay then," he said nonchalantly, "I've picked the appetizer, you pick dessert."

Instantly he noted her reaction and almost regretted his decision to make their dinner a joint effort. It was obvious again that this was a woman who had been managed much of her adult life. Inwardly he cursed her ex-husband and vowed to beat the man within an inch of his life for ever making any woman second guess herself.

The attendant returned and took their appetizer order, and dropped off the drinks they'd asked for after receiving their customary glasses of water. Cecilia did a quick glance at the desserts and immediately knew which one she wanted. It was the little doughnuts that came with chocolate dipping sauce. She thought about her selection and told herself it would be okay to indulge in the sweet confection if she remained true to ordering a lighter entrée.

The conversation was at first forced and uncomfortable. Cecilia asked about his day and again offered condolences on his loss. He told her a few stories about his dog, as well as some of the antics Buddy would get into during their road trips. The appetizers arrived and their entrée orders were given. Chuck said nothing about her choice, though he knew they lacked substance, but he also knew she was too self-conscious to be steered toward ordering what she truly wanted. He hoped by the time dessert arrived she would be more comfortable with him.

Cecilia picked at her food as Chuck devoured his. She couldn't help but think back over the countless meals she'd shared with her ex-husband and how many times she had longed to sample his more savory dishes. But his stern look and steely gray eyes showed that her wants were of no concern to him.

"Cecilia," Chuck said, his voice was a little louder than it had been most of the night.

She looked up, blushed and realized he'd been trying to get her attention. "I'm sorry," she said, "I was thinking about something else. My apologies."

Chucks smiled. "It's okay. Is your food good?" he asked.

Cecilia bit down on her lip and unknowingly made a face of displeasure.

Before she could speak, Chuck was grinning and said, "That bad?"

She laughed softly. "Yeah, it's very boring," she admitted.

"May I?" he asked, and lifted his fork, indicating he wanted to sample the noodles covered in a red sauce. She pushed her plate over and Chuck took a sampling of her dish. He chewed and nodded his head after swallowing. "It could do with some spice," he told her. "Try mine." He pushed his plate over to hers and watched her battle an inner demon.

Eventually Cecilia won the tug of war that was playing out in her head. She picked up her fork and used it to cut through a piece of chicken that was smothered in cheese, sauce and various vegetables. Her mouth watered as she brought the calorie rich food up to her lips. She opened her mouth and took in the dish. Instantly her eyes grew wide as the sauce, cheese, spices and toppings exploded on her palate.

Chuck's body responded as if the woman before him had just rolled her tongue across the head of his cock. He was shocked by the aroused look on her face, and all because she was enjoying something as simple as chicken and cheese. He shifted in his seat, coughed and adjusted himself as best he could without bringing attention to the movement of his hand under the table. Cecilia, without knowing, had just made love to a piece of food. Chuck had the desire to feed her another bite, followed by another, followed by him.

After swallowing the succulent morsel Cecilia opened her eyes, blushed and giggled. She pulled her lower lip in and held it between her teeth, while smiling. Chuck laughed, nodded his head toward the plate and offered her another bite. He watched her melt at the temptation and was thrilled when she took him up on his offer.

By the time the attendant returned to take their dessert order, the couple had shared Chuck's Stuffed Chicken with Mozzarella and Roasted Vegetables in its entirety. Cecilia offered an apology for eating so much of it, and so little of her own meal, but Chuck waved it off. "I want you to enjoy yourself, and if that," he nodded to the retreating back of the server, "was enjoyment, I want that every time we have dinner together." He grinned, winked and sipped at his drink, giving her time to absorb his words.

Cecilia lowered her head, hoping to hide her blush. She eventually found an inkling of bravery and looked up at Chuck who was smiling back at her. "I think I'd like that," she admitted.

She was having a lovely time, and had for the most part forgotten about her past dinners, full of unease and tension. Dessert arrived and she laughed as the chocolate dripped across the table and onto her finger. She thought nothing of it when she put the digit into her mouth to suck away the dark sauce. It wasn't until she heard Chuck clear his throat that she realized the innocent scene could be seen as erotic. Her skin grew red hot and she licked her lips, only to blush another shade of crimson.

Chuck laughed softly, shook his head and drank deep. He couldn't help but watch her and he chastised himself for making her uncomfortable, but her pink-hued skin was too intoxicating to not indulge in. When he felt her reactions made her uncomfortable, he leaned over and touched her hand. "I need to excuse myself for a moment." He squeezed her fingers and left the table. He knew his desire for her was noticeable, but he didn't care; he made his way between the other diners and headed to the back of the restaurant where he disappeared into the men's room.

Cecilia had caught a glimpse of his aroused state; she turned her head away and felt her skin flame and her sex tighten. She thanked God that Chuck had taken pity on her and had left her to deal with her blushing. Her hand shook as she reached for her water. She drank several large gulps before she felt she was ready to face the empty seat across from her. Her gaze shifted nervously to the other occupants in the room, but they all seemed lost in their own worlds, much as she was lost in hers.

She was taken by surprised at how easily he had made her blush and how quickly she'd come to accept his light flirtations and easy banter. She saw that he was trying to behave like a gentleman. Cecilia liked that about him and she liked how he did not make her feel guilty over devouring his food and ignoring her own. The knowing glance they had shared when she licked away the chocolate on her finger had been unlike anything she'd ever felt with her spouse. Even before he had become a different man, one full of ugliness, she'd never felt the rolling pitch of desire and lust that she'd felt when looking at Chuck.

When he arrived back at the table, she was still more pink than normal, but her pulse was steady as was her smile. The attendant had arrived and left the bill, which Chuck quickly took care of, inserting his credit card into the sleeve and placing it off to the side. He looked at Cecilia, reached out and took her right hand that was resting on the table. He held it until the server came and went, and came again, only then did he let her go. He signed the slip, giving a generous gratuity, and rose from the table, offering his arm to Cecilia.

They left the restaurant, neither saying a word. Outside the sun had almost set, and darkness was looming. Chuck pressed his hand to her spine, slipping it to the small of her back. He did not push or prod her, but gently guided her to the truck. He opened the door and helped her in. Before he closed it, he reached out to touch her cheek. When she did not shy away, he felt his heart tighten and his eyes grow moist. Chuck licked his lips, turned away and closed the door. He knew by the mere touch that she'd allowed him, that he had broken through one small barrier that her ex-husband had constructed.

Once back behind the steering wheel, Chuck started the Silverado and looked over at Cecilia. He wished to hear her thoughts, but knew she was probably struggling with them as much as he was his own. He drove quietly down the road; the tension between them was nothing like what had occurred when he picked her up. This was a sexually charged tension, smoldering and hot. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew he didn't want the night to end, so he drove aimlessly until he came to a back road that he knew would eventually lead them home. It was only then did he stop and turn to look at Cecilia, who had said nothing since getting into the truck.

"I want to see you again," he told her, after putting the vehicle into park.

She looked at him and shook her head. Inside she was battling a war. One side of her told her to run as far and as fast as she could because she was bound to get hurt. The other side told her that she was young and had so much life ahead of her that this man could bring joy to it, so she should stay and fight.

Her ex-husband lingered on the edge of her mind. He told her she was fat, ugly, and lazy. He screamed at her for being late, hit her for burning his dinner, and slammed her into a wall for dropping a cup on the floor. He pulled her hair and dragged her across the floor, throwing her down the stairs and knocking her unconscious. Yet --- Chuck had touched her and she had not shrunk back. She had welcomed his caress and wanted to feel it again.

"I would like that," she admitted; her voice was soft and low. She chewed on her lip as he reached out and squeezed her fingers.

"I'll be on the road all next week. I have a camper to deliver, but I'll be back late Friday night. Saturday morning, maybe we can have breakfast?" Chuck asked her.

She smiled and nodded her head. "I'd like that."

"And um...can I call you?" he asked, "While I'm on the road?"

"Yes, please."

He grinned and shifted the car back into drive. He took her home, holding her hand the entire time. When they reached their block, and their drives, he pulled the truck into his parking spot, got out and hurried over to her side of the vehicle. Again chivalry was his middle name and he helped her from the truck. Once more his hand was on the small of her back and he walked her across the street, and up to her front step. There he waited while she fished out her house key and unlocked the door.

Chuck didn't hesitate, too fearful she'd run away if he did. He touched her arm and slowly moved closer to her. He caught the way her chest rose as she took a deep breath. His eyes held hers for a fraction of a second, before her lids fluttered down. Her lips parted and his mouth touched hers. The pressure he placed on her upturned smile was soft and gentle. Chuck ran his hand up her arm, and cupped the back of her head, angling his kiss so that she was either forced to comply or maintain a tense and awkward stance.

Cecilia caved in on the growing desire that had been slowly building all day. Her knees felt weak as his lips touched hers and she leaned into him. Her fingers reached up and clenched his shirt; the grip she had on the material was tight and a whimper slipped between their kiss. When he pulled away she felt as if a part of her had withered away. She whimpered, blushed and lowered her head into his chest.

Chuck kissed the top of her head and opened the door to her home. He guided her inside, and then closed it behind her. He left when he heard the lock slide home. Back at his house he sat on his couch torn between the loss of his beloved companion, who would have been greeting him with barks and jumps, and the young woman who had left his heart hammering in his chest. Chuck leaned back against his couch, closed his eyes and remembered all the events of the day, even the early morning hour ones. By the time he went to bed, he was ready for his trip to be over and for Saturday morning to be there, with Cecilia by his side.