Ennui Ch. 06

Chapter 6

She ducks her head and enters, plopping onto the long bench seat, but as I close the door, to my great surprise, she slumps over onto her lap and begins crying.

"Er--" I say.

She cries.

"Er--where--where should I take you?"

She cries.

"The address?"

She doesn't answer. The car begins circling again.

"Amelia, what's wrong?"

She sniffs and glances up with wet eyes, then says back down to her hands, "I was fired."

"Oh God." I say. "Oh God. No--no, Amelia, you are the last person I wanted to--I--I can fix this--"

She shakes her head. "No, I--shouted some things, after--at the owner. I don't--I don't want to go back. It's just--oh God, we're going to lose our insurance. And the mortgage is behind."

"I'll--I'll pay it. I'll make your payments. I'll--pay off the whole mortgage balance."

"Wh--what?" she looks up. She sniffs and studies me, my face. She sits upright, shaking her head. "No, Liam."

"Yes! Why not? Of course yes."

She is still shaking her head; a sad smile. "Liam, I can't be what you want. I can't. Can never be. My life is... imperfect, and hard, but it's precious to me."

"Fine, fine, I understand all that. Just let me give you--let me ease your burden."

She reaches and squeezes my hand. "No."

"Why?"

"Because it's bad for you, Liam. If you give me an ocean of money, it will inherently mean we're likely to stay in each other's lives. It's unfair to you."

"No, it won't. No, it's not. It's nothing to me."

She smiles sadly. "But it's something to me. Something huge. That I'll never forget. And if you call me, I'll feel obligated to answer, from what I owe you. I know me, and I think I know you, that's how it will play out. No, I sincerely thank you for the thought, but I don't want anything of yours. A clean break is much better, for both of us. The only reason I do... *any* of this it to help people. Help my patients. I can see you have a fixation on me and continuing contact--especially to enrich myself--is immoral and would only aggravate your persistent depression disorder--"

"Is--is that what I have?" I interrupt.

She nods, looking at me with empathy. "It is, Liam. I think so, anyway. See your doctor about it. But that doctor can't be me."

"But--"

"Shh," she says. "--and so if you... reach in and change my life, it'll leave us both stuck, and that will be worse for you than you already are; yet-more fixated on a girl you can never have. That--that will send you farther down the spiral. After today you must forget me and find a therapist and... and you should find a nice unmarried girl--"

"But how can I!" I say loudly. "How can I, possibly? I never meet anyone real. And--and I only want you!" I immediately regret saying that.

She looks at me sadly. "I should get out." She reaches for the door handle, and the automated driver reacts immediately, pulling to the side. "This is--I'm taking advantage of you, I should walk."

"No, no, no! It's raining--look how it's raining now. I'm sorry, sorry, I said that. Please, please, stay. I won't say anything like it again. I'll take you straight home, if you'll just tell me the address."

She sits back, eyes red. "I'm so tired. Can--can we just drive a bit longer? I don't know yet what to say to my husband about all this, if anything."

"Of course. Let me--I promise will never call you, never check up--"

"Good. I'm sorry Liam, but you can't."

"Fine, fine. There will be only this last ride together. You are not harming me. If we agree there is no future communication, then surely there's no harm in sharing a ride home. In enjoying our last moments of each other's company."

"Sure." She smiles weakly. "You are very sweet. I really, really, do enjoy your conversation. You are a wonderful, attractive, sexy man with a great body--and I've seen all of it--that can make some other woman very happy. You need to believe that--aim at and envision a happier future, Liam. *Striving* is what gives humans purpose, depression is just the absence of such purpose. What you call ennui is really depression in the absence of purpose." She smiles. "I can only give you this last little tidbit of therapy."

We sit a while in silence. I offer her water, which she gladly accepts, drinks deeply, thinking. Her face grows morose. She sighs. "They're probably going to shut off the electricity." She glances up, reading my reaction. "Just listen, Liam. Just be a listener, not a savior. Don't swoop in."

"Fine, yes, but be reasonable. Look, we have only this one ride, right? That's agreed, I promise. Let me, from the limo, during this ride, just make your next electrical bill payment, the next mortgage, at least. That's nothing--not altering your life, just a little breathing room to think. Just... for your service today, since you didn't get properly paid by your company. Ten thousand dollars."

"What! No. That's too much."

"Fine, one thousand. Fifteen-hundred."

She stares at him a long while. She sighs. "Okay. Go ahead. I mean--sorry--I what I mean to say is: thank you, Liam."

I frantically seize my phone. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to do anything financial-related anymore. I call my lawyer. He answers first ring.

"Marty, can you wire some money for me to a woman?"

"What! How much?"

I speak into the phone. "Er, fifteen, um, thousand--" I feel her punch me.

"--hundred, I mean. Fifteen hundred. Her name is Amelia... er--" I look inquiringly at her.

"LaVigne," she says.

"LaVigne," I say. I switch the phone to speaker.

Marty says, "Liam, Liam, slow down. Who is this woman? Why are you paying her? Do you have some obligation? If so, it'd be better to let me negotiate. Does she have a lawyer? It'd be much cleaner to convey the payment as part of a release of claims, whatever they may be, so there's a quid pro quo. Otherwise, there's nothing to prevent her coming back again and--"

I cover the speaker. "God. This is my life."

She giggles. It's nice to see her smile again.

"--and I'll need her bank details and tax ID and--"

I mute the microphone as Marty continues.

"Fuck," I say.

"Er," she smiles, though confused, with eyebrows furled. "Doesn't he work for you?"

I laugh. "I know billionaires are supposed to have some voice to command their lawyers in conversations like this, intimidate them--I've seen it in the movies--like all 'Just shut up and do what the hell I say, dammit!'"

She laughs. "So, try it. Aren't you a billionaire?"

"Maybe, but I don't have the voice."

"Why not?"

"Hell if I know. Where am I supposed to get it? Maybe they were supposed to send it to me? But I saw it in the movies."

Laughing, she pushes the button to end the call. "Forget it, Liam. But I thank you for the thought."

"No! Dammit. I want to--"

"No. I was having qualms anyway. Each of us will have to carry our own burdens, Liam, and, honestly, I think yours are much more daunting than mine. I'll be okay."

Nothing, I mean, nothing, has ever made me more aroused than a beautiful woman I could not have refusing my money. It's so outside my normal experience. Suddenly, I am so aware of every inch of her skin, legs damp with raindrops, cheeks damp with tears. I can feel the humid warmth coming from her.

She glances down. She smirks. "It's back," she says.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry, I--"

"Pfft--" she waves my regret away "--I think after two hours today we're way past embarrassment. I--I realize you never had your release. After all that build up." She glances at the plastic specimen cup, sitting the cup holder with the lid off in the next cup holder, which I've not had time to put away.

"Wait." She laughs. "Explain *that*!" She points, smiling. "Well?"

"Well... I just was just going to..."

"Shh." She puts a finger to my lips. "It's okay, I understand all aspects of this. I do have some medical training, after all." She laughs. She looks down, then looks at the cup, then down again. She nods. "Maybe... maybe you should go ahead and finish what I started."

"What, now? No!" I say. "No, let me call Marty again. I wanted to give you--"

She smiles. "You wanted to give me a gift, but, honestly, you need help more than I do. Maybe... this is better. If there's only this ride, then arguably closure might be better than incomplete. Therapeutically, maybe so, maybe not, I don't know enough to say. But--it's--what I want, so that should break the tie."

"No, no, it's not right. You keep talking about me, but all this has been unfair to you. You weren't even paid. I'll take care of this--" I wave back and forth between my groin and the cup "--after you get out."

She laughs. "I bet you will." She pauses, amused. "Okay, go ahead."

"What?"

"I want to see. It's okay, I'm a nurse, I'm allowed to see. It doesn't count. It's educational. And it's not like after this afternoon we have any cause to be shy with each other."

After a playful minute of discussion, I find myself with my pants at my ankles, holding myself in both hands.

"I suppose l should hold the cup for you," says Amelia, now as smiling and laughing and relaxed again just like at the start of our interview. "Make sure not a million-dollar drop is spilled. My contribution to humanity."

"I'll give it to you." I whisper between groans.

"Give it to me? What? The specimen cup?" she says.

"Mmm-hmm." I was shivering, studying every curve of her body. "If I sign the sealed cup, you can get full market price. Just take it to any bank. You'll be obligated to if you care about humanity. Plus it's illegal for you to throw it away or do anything else. I'll put you as the recipient of record in the database, so no one else can try to submit it without the FBI crawling all over them. And the bank won't take it without wiring you the funds--"

"But--"

"Look, and then, you can decide what to do with those funds. Keep it or give it away or whatever you decide. I won't know, I won't ever ask, like I've promised."

She scoffs. "Give it to me, you say. For God's sake Liam, I wouldn't even take $1500 from you. There's no way I'd take--do you even know what the price is?"

"Well, no," I shake my head, my body tensing. "Not really."

"Liam, I looked it up after you left. You're a fucking 7.44. At your average count, this cup will have a market value of $13 million. No wonder Royce was losing his mind."

"But you already agreed, just this ride. What I could give you on this ride and never see you again. I want to give you this."

She studies me, slowly shaking her head with a crooked smile. "No, Liam." She exhales, and then, to my surprise, she moves toward me. She takes me in her hands--oh, so good. At last, the contact with her I have been aching for, for hours. I realize, with a shock of inexpressible delight, that maybe she is going to take over Janice's role, in addition to hers.

But I'm wrong. She does not stimulate me like Janice did this afternoon. Instead, she is rising up, putting her knees on either side of my thighs. She holds me now in one hand, lifting her skirt hem with the other. She reaches under the skirt, pulling her panties aside, and slowly eases herself down onto me. I gasp with joy as she is startlingly wet and warm. "I think this is probably best for you. And for me. Just this once."

"Oh God," I said. "But--but--" The pleasure washes over me. Every part of her is so soft, enveloping me. Her arms, fingertips, inner thighs, all press, so warmly.

"Now kiss me." She places her mouth on mine, open mouthed; the wetness seems everywhere. I am simply as happy as I've ever been in my life.

She laughs as we kiss again and again. "I asked you so many times today why you wouldn't kiss me." She giggles as she bounces on me, smiling.

"But--" I repeat.

"But what?"

"What about the law? And--and--your husband?"

"Shh." She says, touching her fingertip to my lips. "They are not here. This is just for us. Just for me and you. We have only this limo ride, and I want it. This is your closure. Do you want it?"

I nod violently. "Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times yes."

She grins. "Good." She kissed me. "I want to break the law. I want to feel you spray in me."

"But--"

"Shh," she says. "You talk too much. Just do what I tell you and come in me. Everyone should get that, at least once in their life. Just today. Just this. You swear you will keep your promise not to contact me after this ride?"

"I swear, I swear."

She laughs. "It's so easy to get a man to promise anything for sex."

Amazingly, gloriously, I hold off, wanting, for her sake and mine, to make the most of my chance. I push her back supine on the seat, re-mounting her as I've seen in ten thousand videos. Her toes with deep red nails bounce in the air; a thumping sound as my impacts bounce her pelvis off the springiness of the seat. We're both now fully naked. I look down, our eyes meeting, overwhelmed with emotion mixed with indescribable physical pleasure, that no longer seems centered in my penis, but flowed outwards, everywhere, like a cloud I lived in. This, I suddenly understand, is sex. It is so far removed from all my countless cold, penis-centered donation experiences. It doesn't even seem to center on me at all. I'm not even here.

A few minutes later, I know, know, know that it is nearly over. After all, all, all the protracted ups and downs of this unbelievable day, there's just no, no, no way it's not. She is now bent over the far facing seat, arms splayed to grab both ends of the bench, her face turned sideways, cheek on the leather upholstery, drooling onto it as I pound her from behind. She is coming, I know, and it's not like the videos, not like any of the con artists or professional fakers. There's a spasmodic clenching inside, a repeated wet fart-like sound. She is screaming. I am peaking, and--my conscience quivers. It really is immoral. Plus, it feels wrong to send Amelia to her husband full of this illegal substance; it selfishly puts a burden on her, a risk of discovery, or jail, or more need for deception. The penalties are of course far more severe for the woman with the illegal substance inside her than for the national-asset man--what can they do to me, really?

My eyes dart to the side where the cupholder sits, beside my right hand. I snatch it up and pull out, immediately spraying heavy stream after stream into the cup, a release unlike any I've ever experienced. It lasts forever. Amelia, however, is still coming, all on her own, from residual arousal. Her empty pussy still contracts and tenses again and again, squeezing out her lubrication as the hole gapes, then squeezes, then gapes, then squeezes. She is still screaming, now pounding a fist on the leather, making the springs bounce.

I finish my ejaculation, spray after spray, far more than I can recall happening before, seeming to come from deep in my testicles. It finally subsides, and I lightly scrape the last drop into the rim and drop the vessel into the cupholder.

Amelia remains face down, panting, sweating. "Oh, my God. Ohh--" she rubs her hand side to side on the leather, still grinding her cheek into the seat. I watch her thigh and buttock muscles twitch beautifully as I screw on the lid of the specimen cup.

She rouses herself, pushes up on her knees, turns to kiss me, then semi-stands to get a water bottle from the far end of the limo. As she heads slowly away, her hands walking along the long bench seats, I habitually tape the lid of the vessel, pull the marker from my satchel and sign it, returning the jar to the cupholder, while she drinks heavily at the far end, faced away from me.

She looks over her shoulder just after I release the jar. "Do you want some water?"

"Mm-hmm." I nod.

She returns, handing me a bottle. We cuddle for a long time, naked watching the same block go by again and again as we drink. We chat, close, but... without content because we know the end is near. She calls out the address, and we begin to find our clothes.

We arrive. Before the limo door opens, with the windows darkened, I kiss her.

"Goodbye, Liam."

"Goodbye, Amelia, and thank you."

She laughs, cupping my cheek. "You *should* thank me. I'm glad I gave you a gift, rather than you to me. For the man who has everything."

I nod, pulling her in for one final kiss. She brings her second hand to my other cheek, then breaks off, turns, opens the door and slides out.

She smiles back at me, a little wave. She closes the door and starts to turn, but then turns back. I lower the window.

"Oh--my purse--can you hand it to me?"

Near the floor, I feel around for her purse, then seek out its opening while, on impulse, the other hand grabs the sealed specimen jar. I slip the jar inside as I lift the purse by the strap, pushing it down in the bag. I lift the purse and pass it through the window.

She smiles, putting it over her shoulder. "Thank you Liam."

I nod, grinning. "You're welcome."

End of Part One