How Cara Learned to Stop Worrying Ch. 05

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A strange mix of relief and elation flooded me. I pulled back from him so that I could see his face. He didn't have his usual calm expression, but he didn't look nervous either. He looked certain, and hopeful. I heard Evan's words in my mind ("Do you even know anything about him?") but Keiji's actions today made me believe his words, made me want to trust that my feelings for him were founded in something deeper than a physical attraction. It seemed to me that people's impressions of Keiji were based on his outward persona -- a capricious tomcat, a lothario -- but that he had kept his inner self -- the steady, compassionate, perceptive person I knew -- under wraps. Did he treat all of those other women this way behind closed doors? The future was uncertain and none of this had been like love in the movies; there were no sweeping melodies, no blowing winds, no quirky coincidences with ends tied up neat. Still, I kept coming back to how I felt in his arms at the train station. It was a simple, deep contentment that I had never known before. I decided to go for it.

"I love you," I said. "I love being with you." He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me gently.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Oh, honey. If you only knew how many times I'm going to hear that question between now and July. I feel all right. The soup helped. Thank you."

"No sweat. Um. I feel guilty about being turned on by you right now, not gonna lie." I laughed and kissed him again.

"Well, if you feel up to it after all of that--" I said, trailing off as I thought about HAZMATs.

"I want to, you know,make loveto you. Pick your romantic term. That's how I'm feeling."

"Oh, if we have to be romantic...hmm. Let's do it missionary style," I suggested.

"So that's a 'I'm feeling much better now'?" he asked, supporting himself above my body on his hands and knees. He didn't wait for my answer before he started kissing me -- on my face, my neck, my upper chest.

"Yes, yes," I said, not sure if I was replying to his question or egging him on. He kept moving down my body, planting kisses through my clothes.

"I don't know if you consider cunnilingus particularly romantic, but I intend to perform it on you," he said, pausing as he got to the top of my skirt.

"Who could think that word is romantic," I laughed.

"I'm not talking about theword, I'm talking about theact. After seeing you on the train today I'd have to be dead not to want some of that." He peeled the mini down over my hips, revealing my tights. I was bare underneath and he knew it. He nuzzled his nose and lips against my pussy lips through the thin fabric. "Want me to take these off, too?"

"Please."

He complied and soon I was naked from the waist down, my clothes in a heap at the foot of the bed. He knelt over my lower body, stripped off his t-shirt, and unzipped his jeans. He lowered his face back down to my mound and rubbed his cheek against the newly revealed skin, fulfilling a desire he mentioned earlier in the day.

"So soft," he murmured, and began to use his tongue. At first he used broad, flat strokes to lick my outer lips. It had been a long time since I had been hairless down there and the heightened sensations surprised me. The pain from the wax was worth it.

"Wow," I breathed. He "mm"ed agreement and sucked my clit between his lips, drawing slow circles along the shaft with the tip of his tongue. I felt myself get hard and swollen; after a few minutes of this treatment my pussy juices were running down between the cheeks of my ass. He brought his fingers up to my body, stroking my perineum before slipping two inside of me. I made a disappointed noise as he released my clit for a moment to look at what he was doing.

"I know this isn't a very romantic thing to say," he said, sliding his fingers in and out, "but you are so fucking hot."

"Forget the romance for now. Just lick me," I said, looking down my body to meet his eyes.

"I like this bossier side of you," he said, and returned his attention to my clit. The combination of his tongue and fingers was fantastic, although I was soon so lubed that I could hardly feel them inside of me. (The huge wet spot beneath me on the bed was very obvious, though.) I began to gasp and moan as quietly as I could as the pleasure in my clit jumped to another level. He switched from circles to firm flicks and added a third finger inside, fucking me faster. The added stimulation brought me to a quick climax. I pressed a hand to my mouth as I had on the train to stifle my cries.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I chanted softly as my orgasm wound down. He licked me all over with a flat tongue as he had in the beginning, drawing the sensations out as long as possible without overwhelming my sensitive clit. I could have laid there for ages letting him do that, but I really wanted some cock as well. He seemed to sense this as he withdrew his fingers from me and moved up my body until we were face to face.

"Nice?" he asked.

"What do you think?" I said, giving him a messy kiss. His face was wet from below his nose to his chin. I loved the taste of myself on his lips. After we broke the kiss he rolled over long enough to take his pants off, and then positioned himself on top of me again. He shifted his lower body into position between my legs. "Oh, wait, wait," I said, groping at my sweater. I felt overheated after coming. He helped me pull it up and over my head, tossing it down to the end of the bed onto our growing heap of clothing.

"Gonna leave your bra on?" he asked.

"No way." Off it came, added to the pile. I looked at my breasts, amused by how they slid slightly off to the sides under their own weight in this position. I wasn't used to having big tits at all.

"So beautiful, Cara," he said, running his palms over my nipples, making them stand at attention. I draped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer as he entered me. He went slow, giving me time to savor the feeling of his cock spreading and stretching my pussy. I stroked the skin of his back, appreciating its quality -- so fine, like the delicate skin on the backs of my knees, nothing like the other men I had known. We were both exhausted from the strain of the day, so he kept a slower pace this time. I felt like I was being fucked into the bed, becoming a part of it, felt sensuous and languid and unhurried. Even so, he broke out in a light sweat and his breathing grew ragged and hot on my neck.

"Yes baby, yes," I purred, rubbing my breasts into his chest. "Come in me, come." He wrapped his arms around me, moving my entire body along with his thrusts. He shuddered and rocked us together as he came, buried as deep in me as he could get. We didn't move from our embrace for some time; I felt him soften but he didn't pull out. We rested. I began to doze.

A sharp knock on the door jolted us apart. I had been sufficiently distracted by the sex to forget where I was, but it all came crashing back in seconds. I jumped under the covers, pulling them up to my chin and shot Keiji a worried look. His face was grim and tired as he looked for his boxers; he surprised me by going to the door wearing just those. He unlocked the door and opened it about six inches; when he saw who it was he nodded at me and slipped out, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. I couldn't see her, but I heard her.

"Keiji, you have been a disappointment to me ever since you left this house. I don't agree with your choices. Now that you are bringing an innocent child into your life -- if it is your child -- you must do your best to be a good man."

"The baby is mine, Mom," he answered, sounding as tired as he had looked. "I am trying to do my best. It's been a long day. We'd like to sleep now."

"That's what I came to tell you. The couch is ready for you downstairs. There are clean sheets, a blanket, a pillow. Daddy is waiting for you there. He wants to talk to you. She--can stay here," Takako said, her firm voice breaking for just a second.

"You mean Cara," Keiji said. I held my breath.

"Yes. Cara," Takako conceded. I let the breath out.

"See you tomorrow," he said, again not waiting for an answer before he slipped back inside the room. I heard her footsteps move down the hallway to her bedroom. He stood by the door, looking wilted.

"Keiji. She is something else," I said, stunned at her harsh words.

"Pretty good lecture, huh," he muttered, coming to sit next to me. I groomed him, pushing his hair behind his ears and stroking the outline of one cheekbone. He closed his eyes at my touch and exhaled softly through his nose.

"I don't agree with her. You are not disappointing in any way."

"Oh, she just means that I was supposed to be a lawyer. You know, if you suck at math you have to be a lawyer. It's the only excuse for not being a doctor," he said, his eyes opening. His words were a joke but his eyes weren't smiling. He was so beautiful, so good at heart that my own heart ached. I wondered how she couldn't see him. I thought of the portrait of her in his apartment, how it clearly represented her importance to him. I kissed his closed lips, willing him to open back up to me, to feel how loved he was. He did after a few seconds and despite my exhaustion I was aroused again, remembering how he had used his lips and tongue just a little while earlier. I told myself to wait, as hard it was.

"Keiji, Keiji...you should leave before I can't let you," I said, pulling back from him.

"I don't want to go, anyway."

"No, you should talk to your father. I bet he's worried about you."

"Eh. You're probably right," he said, rolling his shoulders and his neck as if they pained him. "Are you going to be okay here tonight? I can come back if you want. It's funny that I'm even entertaining the pretense of sleeping on the couch when we obviously just, you know, and you're pregnant. Why bother."

"You are a good son," I said. He laughed, short and dry. "Besides, I kinda want to lay here and have a private moment with James Iha." Now his laugh was genuine and his eyes softened.

"All right, I'll go. I love you, Cara Brennan."

"I love you too, Keiji Nakamura."

***

I woke to the sound of the bed squeaking as someone climbed in next to me. Keiji wrapped all four of his limbs around me, snuggling me as I came out of sleep. The stubble on his chin tickled my neck. I smiled, inhaling his scent and pressing back against him. Judging by the sunlight filtering through the curtains it was eight o'clock or so.

"Oh, good morning," I said, as I felt his erection nestle in between my ass cheeks.

"Hi," he said shortly, running his hands over whatever parts of my body he could reach. I was still naked from the night before.

"It's turkey day. Are you excited?" I asked, wiggling my rear in a deliberate manner.

"Yeah. I'm gonna have dessert first, though." He cupped my breasts and began to move them in gentle circles.

"Oh man, what a line," I laughed. "I have morning breath!"

"What, you think mine smells like a capful of Scope? I woke up with a massive boner and came straight here. Don't turn around. It won't be necessary for our purposes."

"Yes, sir."

He pulled away from me a bit to yank his boxers down, and then pressed into my butt again. His bare cock was hot and a bit sticky as he humped against me.

"I love how soft you are," he said. "Have you ever let someone fuck you in the ass?"

"Ha! Um. I can think of one aborted attempt. We were traveling for work and he got so sloshed at the hotel bar that he couldn't follow through, if you know what I mean. Why, you want to do that now? I am constipated like, forever," I said, being brutally honest. The first trimester ain't pretty.

"Just asking for future reference. Now I know you're a virgin."

"One day you can tap it, Keiji. Just let me get this baby out first."

"Wow, deal!" he exclaimed. He squeezed my breasts, being gentle but obviously excited. He slid his fingers in circles around my areolas before brushing them over my nipples.

"Ahh," I said, feeling the blood rush to my pussy in reaction to the pain-pleasure.

"Still tender?" he asked, his voice changed to deep, husky quality. I felt a little thrill, recognizing the transition from playful to serious.

"Yes, but don't let it stop you."

He pulled and pinched and twisted and flicked, fondling my breasts until I was writhing against him. I had always loved having my tits played with, but now being pregnant each touch was like a direct signal to my pussy; soon I was throbbing and leaking so much that my inner thighs were wet. "Please, please," I begged, inarticulate with need.

"Please what?" he asked, pitiless. He knew that saying the words would make me even hotter.

"My pussy, my cunt, please, fuck me,please."

"You want it hard, don't you?" He was still manipulating my tits, a bit rougher than before. I moaned and nodded, squeezing my legs together, trying to relieve my aching clit. I reached behind me to guide his cock into place. He let go of my nipples to lift one of my legs a bit, giving him better access. He rubbed himself against my wet slit a few times; the head of his cock slipping over my clit made me moan louder than before.

"Shh, shh," he said, putting a finger to my lips. I couldn't resist taking it into my mouth and sucking on it. "You should play with your pussy. Make yourself come on me." A helpful suggestion; as aroused as I could ever be, I had no inhibitions about getting myself off in front of him. As I moved my hands toward my pussy he sank his cock into me with one swift, firm movement.

"Oh my god. Ohh fuck, yes," I groaned, pushing back against his hardness.

"Shhhhhh. You'll wake the whole house up." He used one hand to keep my leg lifted and slipped the other over my mouth. I couldn't be trusted to be quiet anymore, I guess.

He started moving inside of me; at first I was too distracted by his cock to remember my clit, but it soon sent out pangs that got my attention. I slid my fingers down both sides of the erect nub and couldn't remember the last time it was so hard. I felt lower down until my fingers came to my sopping wet hole and his cock, pistoning in and out harder and harder as he approached his maximum speed -- my absolute favorite. I was moaning and dropping four letter words constantly into his hand now, caring very little if anyone overheard. The bed was squeaking like crazy, anyway.

I pressed in on my clit, hard, and held it down. The motion from his vigorous fucking provided enough friction to move my fingers; the combination of that and the pressure destroyed me. I came so hard that white stars exploded behind my eyes. I could feel his hand over my mouth was wet with my saliva. I was probably drooling. Didn't care. I let up on my clit a bit, made a few short circles on it, sort of a "reset" motion, and pressed down again. Another orgasm hit me in seconds, as strong as the first.

"Yes baby, keep going," he whispered, not letting up on my pussy. His cock felt huge and my contractions on it were almost painful, the sensation was getting so intense. I decided to go for one more, because I could and I could tell he was close. I wanted to make him come. It took me a bit longer this time; I had to rub my clit in firm circles for a few minutes, faster and faster, until it sent out the tell-tale signal of an impending orgasm. I tore his hand away from my mouth.

"I'm going to come," I gasped. He made a noise of approval deep in his throat. "But I can't take any more. Grand finale time, okay? Do me as hard as you can."

"Okay," he said, finding some last reserve to do my bidding. I cried out with each brutal entry of his cock, my third orgasm flowing over my body in gentler waves than the first two but making the ride to the end incredibly satisfying. He squeezed my inner thigh as he came, digging into the soft flesh. (Two days later I could still see the marks from all five fingers.)

We laid against each other, panting, the sweat cooling on our skin. My pussy was still twitching minutes later, leaking a mixture of our fluids onto the sheets and creating a brand new wet spot to match last night's. I stretched and turned toward him to give him a kiss -- morning breath or no morning breath. He kissed back eagerly, running his hands down to my lower belly to stroke lightly back and forth.

Today was Thanksgiving, I remembered. I had a lot to be thankful for.

***

It turns out we needn't have worried about being quiet; when Keiji peeked out of his room to see if the coast was clear, he saw his parents' bedroom door was wide open. The bed was made and the house was silent.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, pulling on his discarded t-shirt from last night.

"I don't know. Sachi and Hana aren't supposed to be here until noonish," he replied. "I'll go take a look around. Hang on." He put his boxers back on and walked down the hallway into the kitchen. "Turkey's in the oven!" he called back. "Oh, there's a note. They had to go to the store for last minute stuff. Jeez, I bet that place is a madhouse right now."

"I need a shower so bad," I said, walking into the bathroom. "I smell like splooge."

"Yes, I have marked you with my scent," he said in a grave voice, following me in and closing the door. We spent the next fifteen minutes soaping and massaging and kissing each other under the hot water; I loved touching him and ogled him relentlessly (he looked soooo hot wet, it was like a Backstreet Boys video in there), but Keiji lamented that he was probably out of commission for the next few hours at least, so we focused on getting clean. When we emerged we heard the sounds of shopping bags rustling and the front door opening and closing. Takako and Stan were arguing about who was going to prepare which dish. This gave us enough cover to sneak back into Keiji's room and dress.

As I pulled a maternity shirt and pants on (no sense hiding it now, long live elastic waistbands), I considered our pile of clothes from yesterday -- and the sheets on the bed.

"I think I need to do some laundry."

"Oh, I can ask Mom," he suggested.

"Keiji. No way!"

"What? She won't mind."

"Won't mind washing my dirty underwear and sheets splattered with cum?"

"You make it sound like we were painting with it," he said, laughing.

"That's probably something you've done before, haven't you?" I accused. He rolled his eyes and rummaged through his bag for a shirt. "Well, obviously you didn't sleep in that gigantic wet spot last night. I hope the mattress is okay," I said. He laughed again.

"I'll take the stuff down to the laundry room after breakfast, okay?"

"Thanks. Hey, what did your dad say last night?" I asked.

"Oh, ha. He apologized for her, which shocked me actually. He usually just pulls this blank face and zones out whenever she's like that. I mean it would be nice for it to come from her for once, but I guess I'll take it. He said he thought you were very nice and that he hopes he can get to know you better. And..."

"And?"

"He's thrilled, Cara. He's so happy." Keiji beamed in imitation of his father's smile.

"Really?" I felt warm inside. If Keiji's father reacted that way, maybe my parents would be happy, too. "Isn't he always happy, though?"

"Well, he loves a good laugh, but I don't know if he's always happy. I wish you could've seen him though, like a kid at a candy store. It's been a long time since we had a baby in the family. Hana was the last one. He said he thought it was never going to happen for me, that I would find someone--he said I seemed different with you than I was with--than I was before." He sat back on his heels, seeming to muse for a bit. "I didn't really know how to explain it to him but I I feel like--" he made aclicknoise with his tongue "--something is settling into place. Settling down?" He looked up at me, a tentative smile on his face. He stood up, finished dressing now, although he looked incomplete to me wearing just his socks.

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