Can You Love Someone Too Much?

This is my entry in the "When A Man Loves a Woman" event.

Thanks to stev2244 for giving me a read, and to blackrandl1958 for her guidance and editing.

Can you love someone too much?

Tom wouldn't have thought so, but then he hadn't yet met Eleanor McKenzie.

Tom never believed in love at first sight, but when Eleanor walked into the club, there was no other word for it; he was smitten.

She wasn't movie star beautiful, but she was very pretty, with straight red hair pulled back into a simple ponytail.

Although she radiated friendliness, even the pussy hounds were scared off.

Well, "faint heart never won fair maiden," so he pulled his shoulders back and marched to his fate.

"Hi, my name's Tom. May I buy you a drink?"

She had a strange look on her face, Tom thought that maybe she was wondering,

Who does this schmo think he is? Then she smiled.

"Thank you, Tom. My name is Eleanor, Eleanor McKenzie. I'll have a Cosmo if you don't mind."

He ordered her drink and got a refill for his own.

They chatted for a while until Eleanor noticed the time.

"Shit, Tom," she said, "I didn't notice the time. I've got to get going."

"May I have your number?"

She hesitated for just a moment, then gave him her number and was off in a flash.

Tom wondered if the number was real, or if she'd really go out with him, but he was determined to give it his best shot.

The next morning, Tom wasn't sure if he'd look too eager if he called right away, or too disinterested if he waited. He decided not to play silly games, and just go with his feelings and call her; after he had a cup of coffee.

He picked up his phone and opened his contacts, found Eleanor's name and punched "Call."

"Hello, this is Eleanor."

"Hi, Eleanor, it's Tom, from Spiro's."

"Wow, you don't waste any time do you?"

Tom thought he had blown it until he heard her delightful laugh.

"Don't worry, Tom, I'm just teasing you. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime, maybe dinner and dancing?"

"'Sometime' seems awfully vague. I have a rather full social calendar. Could you be a little more specific?" she said with a teasing tone in her voice.

Tom was pretty sure that she was just toying with him, but decided to call her bluff.

"How about this Friday?" he asked.

Eleanor hesitated as if she were deep in thought, then replied, "Well, it is rather short notice, but it so happens that I don't have any plans. Pick me up at 7:00. Make reservations at Chez Louis."

She hung up without even saying good-bye.

Chez Louis was one of the more expensive restaurants in town, but not exactly a budget buster.

He realized that he had no idea where Eleanor lived, so had no idea what time he should plan for dinner.

He called her right back, but got her machine. He left a message and just hoped that she'd call back in time for him to make the reservation. Tom couldn't know, but Eleanor rarely checked voicemail, she usually relied on texting.

Thursday came and went with no call. He tried calling again, but just got her machine again.

Friday morning arrived and he was just about to call and hope that it wasn't too late to get a table when his phone rang.

"Hi, Tom, it's Eleanor."

"Thank God you called, Eleanor. I couldn't reach you, and didn't know what time I should plan on for dinner."

"Oh, no worries, Tom. When I didn't hear from you I went ahead and made reservations for eight o'clock." She felt a little guilty teasing him, but he was so cute when he got flustered that she just couldn't resist.

She didn't hear from me? Tom thought. Oh, well, no harm, no foul.

"Before you hang up, Eleanor, what's your address?"

"Why would I hang up, Tom? My address is 2125 Commonwealth Avenue. Remember, seven o'clock," she said, and was gone.

She lived in Brookline, and Chez Louis was in Boston, so an hour might seem a lot of time, but between traffic and parking, it was probably for the best. That's assuming she was ready on time, of course.

Tom pulled up in front of her building and was pleasantly surprised that she came right out the front door just as he was getting out of his car.

She had a light-weight coat on, so Tom couldn't see what she was wearing, but her hair was in a fancy up-do, showing off her slender neck to good effect.

Tom hustled around the car to open the door for her. As soon as she was seated, he closed her door and went back and got into the driver's seat.

As he fastened his seatbelt, he caught a glimpse of a slender leg as she adjusted her coat. He was looking forward to seeing what she was wearing.

When they got to the restaurant, Tom was disappointed that she was careful not to give him any sneak peeks, but his disappointment vanished when he took off her coat at the coat check.

It was a relatively modest red version of a LBD. It grazed a spot just an inch or two above her knee, but it clung to her curves just right, with a vee neckline held up by spaghetti straps, showing just a bit of cleavage.

He was able to check out her ass as they were led to their table. As with everything else about her, it was just right. While not a Kardashian badonk-a-donk, it was round and firm. It looked just the right size for his hands..

He was gentleman enough to keep his eyes up as they made pleasant conversation through the last mouthfuls of dessert and sips of coffee.

"That was a most delightful meal with a charming companion," she said. "What do you propose we do next?"

"Royale is right around the corner, why don't we go there so I can dazzle you with my dance moves."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself. Let's go, and we'll see who dazzles whom," she said with a smile.

Tom retrieved their coats, helped Eleanor into hers, took her arm and led her into the night.

They walked over to Royale. Tom checked their coats, then they went into the club proper and found a table.

After a round of drinks, they hit the dance floor, and while Tom did impress Eleanor with his moves, he couldn't hold a candle to hers, especially when she moved sinuously like a cobra rising out of a snake charmer's basket.

When they danced a slow number Tom could feel her braless nipples poking into his chest, and did his best to keep his erection under control.

Thankfully, they returned to their table and Tom was able to discreetly adjust himself while waiting for another round of drinks to arrive.

No sooner had their drinks arrived when a good-looking guy approached their table.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, extending his hand to Eleanor.

Without a backwards glance, Eleanor took his hand and followed him to the dance floor.

Even through his anger, Tom had to admire her dancing, but that didn't stop him from stewing over the blatant disrespect shown him.

After a couple of fast dances, Eleanor returned to an obviously upset Tom.

"What's the matter, Tom? You look like you lost your best friend."

Tom took a deep breath to try to settle himself.

"Don't you think that he was incredibly rude, him asking you to dance without asking me first?"

"Why, did you want to dance with him?" she asked with a snicker.

"You know what I mean!"

"Oh, come on, Tom, this is the twenty-first century, times have changed."

"Good manners never go out of style, and you just went off with him, without even a concern for me, your date."

Eleanor just sighed in exasperation and stood up.

"Come on, then, dance with your date."

Tom suppressed his anger and led her to the dance floor.

After a couple of fast songs, a slow song started and Tom drew Eleanor into his arms.

They had barely started when Tom felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. It was the same guy from before.

"Mind if I cut in?"

"As a matter of fact I do..."

"Oh, Tom, don't be selfish, it's just one dance," Eleanor said as she deftly disengaged from Tom to move into the stranger's arms.

Tom stood there for a moment feeling foolish, then returned to their table.

Tom was sipping his drink, but when one dance turned into three, he was gulping it. Eleanor, meanwhile, was simply enjoying the dance with barely a thought of Tom. When it turned into five, he swigged it down and walked out. He didn't leave any money; let Mr. Wonderful pay her tab.

As he handed in his coat check he realized that he still had Eleanor's. He thought about just walking out with it, but handed it to the girl at the desk.

"There should be a woman in a red dress looking for this at some point," he said, leaving a tip before leaving the club.

Eleanor returned to the table, initially unconcerned about Tom's absence, assuming he simply went to the restroom.

When he hadn't returned in fifteen minutes, she called his cell, but it went straight to voicemail.

She left a string of voicemails and texts, each one angrier than the last, until she gave up and called an Uber. When she got home, she tried one more time before she went to bed, planning to rip his head off in the morning.

Meanwhile, Tom hadn't even walked a block before his phone started ringing. He didn't need to look at it to know it was Eleanor. He just turned it off, got his car, went home and went to bed.

When he woke up he took a shower and started brewing a cup of coffee on his Keurig before turning on his phone. Sure enough, there were at least a dozen missed calls and several messages. He had just deleted the last one when the phone rang. Of course it was Eleanor. Deciding it was best to rip off the band-aid, he answered.

"Good morning, Eleanor," he said as cheerfully as he could manage.

"I'll give you good morning, you asshole. What the fuck did you think you were doing, walking out on me like that?"

"Well, you obviously preferred Studly's company to mine, so I figured I'd save you the trouble of telling me."

"'Studly?' Oh, him. Jesus Christ it was just a dance."

"No, it was at least five dances, none with me given the courtesy of being asked."

"Not this again. Listen, this isn't a cotillion where I fill out my dance card. I'm a free and independent woman. I'll dance with whomever and whenever I want."

"That's fine, you do that, but not while you're on a date with me," and he hung up.

It took all of Tom's will power not to answer her calls. Eleanor was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever dated, and he knew he could easily fall in love with her, but that was the problem. If she didn't change, she would surely hurt him in the end.

When Tom didn't pick up the first few calls, Eleanor decided to cool it until the end of the week.

At the end of the week, Tom answered the phone without thinking.

"Oh, you do answer your phone," Eleanor said with thinly disguised sarcasm.

"Hello, Eleanor."

"'Hello, Eleanor,' Is that all I get after you ditch me and duck my calls for a week?"

"Well, you seemed to be having such a good time, I didn't want to cramp your style."

"Jesus, Tom, it was just a few dances."

Before it was "just a dance," now it's "a few dances." At least she's being more accurate now, he thought.

"Listen, Eleanor, maybe I'm old fashioned, but we obviously have different ideas on what's proper behavior on a date." He hung up.

Eleanor was flabbergasted that he hung up on her, and was about to call him back, but decided not to give him the satisfaction.

The next day, she did start calling him again, to no avail.

This time, Tom waited two weeks before taking her call, although it was killing him.

He had never met a woman like Eleanor before, and he was afraid that he might lose her.

"Hello," he answered, wondering if she was going to ream him a new asshole.

"He's alive," she said in her best mad scientist voice. "I thought you had been abducted by aliens."

"I'm sorry, I've had a lot of thinking to do."

"About us?"

"No. I mean yes. No, about you."

"Me? What about me?"

"The way you act when we're out on a date."

"What do you mean? I don't act any differently than I always act."

"That's the point. When you're out with me you act as if you're out with your friends. You flirt with other guys, let them get a little too familiar with you."

"I don't understand."

"We're not exclusive. I understand that, and when you're out with your friends you're a free agent, you can pretty much do whatever you want with whomever you want..."

"I agree, so what's the problem?"

"When you're out with me, you're not out with your friends. It's different, and you need to act differently."

"And just how would that be?"

"You stop, or at least cut way back, on the flirting. You don't accept dances from men who don't ask me first. If I say no, you don't pout, no matter how much you may want to dance with him."

"Is that all?" she asked with some exasperation.

"No," Tom said with a smile. "When you do dance with another man, you keep it clean. No rubbing of crotches, no ass grabbing. If he pushes things you walk away."

"I don't know, Tom, this reminds me of when my father lectured me before I went out on my first dates."

"Please, Eleanor, just give it a try. I know you're out of my league, I still wonder what a woman like you sees in a guy like me."

"Oh, Tom, I wish you had more self-confidence. You're a great guy, it's not all about looks."

Eleanor didn't realize it, but her statement had the opposite effect than she intended, it simply confirmed Tom's belief that she was out of his league.

She could almost sense Tom's shoulders slump in defeat and shifted gears.

"Tom, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it meant so much to you. Of course I'll try to be more respectful of your feelings."

"You'll see," he said excitedly, "this will be so wonderful."

Eleanor didn't quite share Tom's confidence, but was determined to give it her best shot.

Tom and Eleanor returned to their dating, and Eleanor was as good as her word.

She flatly refused any dance requests from men who didn't ask Tom first, and Tom rarely allowed the men to dance with Eleanor if it was a slow song, and soon they were exclusive.

Tom eventually relaxed enough to allow most requests, except for the obvious pussy hounds, and life was good.

It was Eleanor who initiated sex, and Tom thought he had died and gone to Heaven.

Despite the cool night air, Tom was sweating as he walked Eleanor to her door.

The last set of dances was particularly arousing as he held her tightly in his arms.

He had felt her erect nipples pressing into his chest and just hoped that his erection wasn't as obvious to her as it was to him.

Eleanor unlocked her door, then turned and threw her arms around his neck before planting her lush lips onto his.

They had French-kissed before, but this time it felt like she was seeking his uvula while running her fingers through his hair.

As soon as he recovered his senses, Tom began responding in kind, his tongue dueling hers as his hands kneaded the twin globes of her ass.

Without breaking the kiss, she opened the door, dragged Tom inside and kicked the door closed.

Tom could only go along as she walked him backwards until the back of his knees hit the edge of her couch and he sat down awkwardly, pulling Eleanor down with him.

Eleanor got on the couch, her knees straddling Tom's legs and resumed their kiss.

Tom's hands were lightly stroking her sides and back while she removed his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.

Eleanor moved her kisses to the sides of his neck, gently licking up the beads of sweat that were there.

She continued moving down, unbuttoning his shirt as she went, until she reached his belt.

Tom shrugged off his shirt as Eleanor repositioned herself, kneeling on the floor between his legs, and began unfastening his belt.

She removed his belt and Tom groaned in anticipation, threw his head back and entwined his fingers in her hair.

Tom was on a hair-trigger, but not so much that he couldn't admire her technique as she swirled her tongue around the sensitive head of his cock before filling her mouth with his cum.

Although she had obviously swallowed, he felt a twinge of distaste as she moved up to kiss him, but he wasn't about to spoil the moment and returned the kiss, the sweet taste of her lips easily over-powering the taste of his cum.

While Tom was recovering from his orgasm, Eleanor had removed all of her clothes, and when Tom regained his senses, he was blown away.

While Eleanor's face was attractive, if not beautiful, her body was an 11 on a scale of one to 10. Her breasts were firm handfuls, with erect nipples tilting upward.

There was a distinct narrowing at her waist, a flat stomach and womanly hips.

Though he couldn't see it at the moment, he knew that she had a perfect ass.

Eleanor lay back on the bed, her legs bent and spread. No words needed to be said as she idly tweaked her nipple, and Tom climbed onto the bed.

He tried his best to reciprocate, but he was inexperienced. Eleanor was a patient instructor and he was soon giving almost as good as he got.

Tom had the presence of mind to put on a condom before plunging into her hot depths, and maybe it was the desensitization caused by the condom, but he was able to hold off on his orgasm until Eleanor came again.

As they settled into a comfortable relationship, Eleanor became a little lax with their rules, but she never overdid it. She danced most, if not all slow dances with Tom, and he never doubted her fidelity.

A few months after they became exclusive, Eleanor's lease was up and she moved in with Tom. Curiously, this added to Tom's insecurity, because he was now aware of when she wasn't home. Again, not that he doubted her, it was that he doubted his own desirability.

Eventually, he became willfully blind, ignoring what many of his friends saw as Eleanor's disrespect.

"How can you just sit there while she's off dancing with those pussy hounds?" his friend Arnie asked. "You know they're just looking for a chance to get into her pants, right?"

"Fat chance that they'll get there," he'd always say, still sighing in relief when she'd return to their table.

He'd barely admit it to himself, but he'd sometimes wonder when they ran to the bedroom whether she was hot for him, or if her last dance partner lit her fires. Then he figured, who cares as long as he was the one that fed the flames?

They both knew that they were in love, but once again, Tom's insecurities predominated. As much as he knew that Eleanor loved him, he was afraid of her saying no.

Finally, Eleanor had to take things into her own hands.

"Tom, you know I love you, right?"

Tom nodded.

"And I think you love me, too."

"Oh, yes, Eleanor, very much!"

"So, why haven't you asked me to marry you?"

Tom was stunned, out of all the ways the conversation could have gone, this was the last thing that he expected.

"I... I don't know. I guess I was afraid that you'd say no."

"Seriously? After all the time we've spent together? Here, I'll make it easy for you. Tom, will you marry me?"

"Y...Y...Yes. Of course!"

"Now we just have to get the ring."

"Ring?" he asked dully.

"Of course! When I tell the girls that we're engaged, they'll want to see what kind of a rock you got me. We'll go ring shopping tomorrow." That settled that.

Somehow, Tom wasn't surprised when Eleanor directed him to one of the most expensive jewelry stores in town.

Tom made a futile attempt to steer her to the more modestly-priced rings, not that they were all that inexpensive, but Eleanor made a bee-line to the more extravagant rings. Tom had a feeling that she knew exactly what she was looking for.

By the time he caught up with her, she was already admiring a ring on her finger.