I Want You Inside Me Ch. 01

The nurse called to me, "Rebecca, it's time."

Cheryl squeezed my hand; it didn't seem real. Our journey to this point had seemed to have taken so long, how could this really finally be happening.

I almost didn't move, as it was the nurse had to say my name twice before I responded and felt Cheryl standing and helping me to my feet. We followed the nurse out of the reception area and deeper into the clinic, I felt like I was watching two other people.

Was I dreaming, was this even real?

After a series of questions from the admitting staff, Cheryl said in a voice so quiet, it seemed like she was thinking it to me, "They won't let me go past here, I'll be waiting here the whole time and I'll see you after the surgery."

I remember kissing her and then being taken into a prep room. Part of me wondered what she would do for the five hours this was supposed to take.

I still felt like I was in a dream, I had encountered so many upheavals since this began it didn't seem real. Far from a dream though, the reality of the journey was more of a nightmare; at times I never thought I would even survive much less ever get here.

The clinic was bright, open, and very colorful, it was so much different than what I had imagined it would be. Everyone spoke English, but like almost everyone here in Montreal, they all had a French-Canadian accent, I suppose my Texas drawl sounded as foreign to them as theirs did to me and Cheryl.

Over the past year, I had almost backed out many times; the emotional storms, the stigma and misinformation, the hurt feelings and lack of support, and the cost financially, all had almost pushed me past the edge of my sanity.

More than once I had considered just shutting down my feelings, desires, and hopes for the future; giving up and just conforming to what everyone expected of me. I knew that would make me miserable for the rest of my life, but maybe it would be the best thing for my wife, my daughters, my career, and everyone else who knew me.

As I remembered, I knew I was getting upset, I was alone for a moment lying on a hospital bed, and I could feel my heart pounding and anger rising.

"NO!" I silently screamed inside my mind.

What everyone else thought of me and my decision, wasn't me. For all of my forty-two years, I had spent them living up to everyone else's vision of what and who I should be, no more. This was for me; it was about really being me. I knew going back or giving it up was simply not something I could do.

A nurse approached and checked my hospital bracelet, she smiled and said, "Rebecca Smith;" it was at that moment everything suddenly coalesced and focused for me, this was real, this was actually going to happen.

She said quietly, "Rebecca you have waited long enough, it's time for you."

I smiled and closed my eyes for a moment.

As they wheeled me toward the operating room, I remembered the last words my father had said to me before we left Austin two days ago.

"You can back out now, nobody will hold you to this, nobody will remember, your mother and I will just tell everyone you were confused, mistaken," his words were desperate, pleading, not for me however, but for him and my mother, my family, their friends, and all of the people who they thought I was disappointing.

Of course, even he knew everyone was well past the point of understanding. Even if I had wanted to, which I didn't, nobody would forget, nobody would forgive; they were too entrenched. It was far too late, and my parents and those people who blamed me, none of them would ever forgive, much less ever understand.

I felt the prick of a needle, they had given me something, my vision was becoming a little hazy, and I could feel my heart rate increasing, then I felt the reassuring words of another nurse, telling me to relax. I heard the sound of the monitor measuring my heart rate slowly easing. Then the doctor smiled at me as she put on her surgical mask and said just to lay back and count from 100 to 1.

100 ... 99 ... 98 ... 97 ... 89 ... 71 and darkness overtook my world. As I drifted away, I remembered my thoughts as visions of the past filled my subconscious, starting several years back, even before Liz asked if she could run with me.

I was Richard then.

---

It was another busy day; appointments were stacked up along with phone messages and emails, just like yesterday and the days before it. I felt like a ping-pong ball going back and forth between one problem and a dozen others.

This was my job; this was my life; they had ceased long ago to be different things. Each day blurred into the one before and the one after. It had been this way since just before the kids had been born. Our weekends of just Cheryl and me, of trips, fun, and adventure; of a life I barely recognized as mine anymore seemed like someone else's memories now.

I certainly didn't blame my daughters, maybe my job, certainly I blamed myself and maybe Cheryl a little, we had let our careers, our responsibilities, and what we did become who we are so much so, that I didn't even feel like a real person anymore.

That morning, I had no idea my life was about to change irrevocably.

"Richard, can I talk to you for a minute?" a soft but strong female voice spoke from my door almost making me jump out of my shoes. The voice was confident, and self-assured, but with a hint of playfulness and freshness that seemed to cut through the office buzz like a breath of fresh air.

The owner of the voice was one of our corporate lawyers and she was waiting for me to respond, I looked up and she smiled, the room lit up when she did that. Her name was Elizabeth, she was in her late thirties, with brown hair, a little shorter than me, and very likely the most attractive and sexy lawyer I had ever met.

I managed to stammer, "Sure, Elizabeth, what can I do for you?"

"Liz," she said with a quiet voice, "I want to ask a favor."

I knew her professionally, as a senior executive, I knew most of the people working here, but other than short conversations at corporate meetings, we had never really talked casually. I think I had met her husband a couple of times, but right now I couldn't remember him, it was weird, Liz kind of took my breath away.

Then I realized she was looking at me again, waiting.

She wore a men's style white shirt, with the collar open, a stylish if a little short business skirt, heels that looked sexy and very feminine at the same time, a little jewelry, and just enough makeup to highlight her features but not overwhelm them. I detected the scent of wildflowers and spice, but what I found most intoxicating was her eyes, they seemed to see me and sparkle, with an intense and bottomless blue color, all at the same time, I could not remember feeling like that before with anyone I had ever met.

"Sure, anything," I said perhaps a little too eagerly but for me at that moment; everyone else, the phones, and endless tasks, all simply vanished from my mind.

Before I knew it, we had spoken for several minutes and she was thanking me, turning on her heels, and leaving me dazed and totally unfocused.

As I struggled to reconstruct what had just happened, I remembered, she had said someone had told her I was a runner. She added she wanted someone to run with because of several recent assaults in her neighborhood and since we both lived there, maybe we could run together.

I had explained I ran early in the morning, before my kids were up, before the demands of working, family tasks, and a million other things all sucked away my time. She had hoped that was the case because that's when she wanted to run as well.

The responsible and the proper thing to do would have been to say I couldn't. I knew Cheryl would not understand and how people might talk and make something out of nothing. I justified it by saying "It is only running" and that I would explain it to Cheryl and somehow, she wouldn't mind, after all, who would be interested in me, certainly not someone like Liz. Had I been honest with myself, I knew deep down, my heart would not be pulsing this fast if it had only been about the running, I laughed ironically ... actually, looking back I had no fucking idea how everything was going to change.

Where we lived in Austin was nice in the pre-dawn hours, the quiet, the stillness, it was so quiet it really was the only time I could really have time to think and be alone.

Liz met me a block or two from my house, she looked amazingly fit, but for the first mile or so, all she talked about was how good I looked and how lucky she was that we could make this work. I listened as she explained how grateful she was and what a relief it was not to be scared when she ran. Despite liking my solitude, I didn't mind giving that up because I could feel that something "clicked" inside me when Liz asked and I knew even before I opened my mouth that I was going to say yes to her.

Early on an overcast morning, two weeks later, we had been running in the darkness and increasing rain when we stopped in a small park to escape the downpour, when she asked a question; like before I knew the answer was going to be yes.

----

That first morning running with Liz, Montreal was the furthest thing from my mind. In the pre-dawn darkness, I thought to myself that it was nice to have someone to run with. The air was warm, hinting at what we could expect when the sun rose, but now at 5:30 am, it was like Liz and I were the only two people on the planet.

I immediately liked her, not just because of her physical attractiveness, which was certainly obvious, but because she was interesting, intelligent, witty, and very easy to talk with.

Her spirit and energy made it impossible for me not to be excited to be with her. As we ran, with her ponytail swaying almost in rhythm with her hips, I kept thinking to myself how incredibly lucky I was.

Over the days that followed, we felt even more comfortable together, our connection was that tangible. Sometimes we didn't even need to talk, we just ran. One day as she pulled ahead of me and the path narrowed, I watched her. It turned out that we were almost the same age, and I honestly thought she was several years younger than me, we were both shorter than average, both with the toned lean frame runners develop, although she had much nicer curves than me, I smiled admiring her backside, her legs, the easy way she moved, and basically everything about her.

I was having real conversations that weren't about work; Liz really listened to me and wasn't distracted by a million things going on around her like Cheryl. To Liz, I was more than just a "worker drone" and slowly I started to feel things that I thought had died inside me, I knew that was partly unfair, but the feelings were nonetheless very real.

About a week into our pattern of running on alternate days, she began to tell me about her husband.

For the first days we had mostly talked about superficial things, now as we learned more about each other so did the intimacy of our conversations. She described how they had met while in college, about their studies, backgrounds, and the things they shared in common.

Eventually, she shared how their careers made intimacy almost impossible. Her husband was almost twenty years older than her and while originally that had been exciting, now the age difference was a barrier to the things she wanted to do and to try, especially sexually. They were still friends, occasional lovers, but hardly what she had in mind when they got married a dozen years before.

Her frustration at home grew as her success and reputation grew at work, only increasing the divide between them.

She wanted to know about my story about Cheryl. I told her I guess we followed a similar path but our distancing had more to do with the demands of two jobs, two teenage daughters, gymnastics, soccer, band, school trips, night school as Cheryl pursued her masters, and my ever-increasing travel schedule for work.

Cheryl had never really been as interested in sex or intimacy as I was. I had tried almost everything to make her enjoy it more, from always trying to have her orgasm first to even trying role-playing games she said she might like. I found she was just doing so many other things that we went from 6 or 7 times a month to that number each year, and then to virtually not at all for the past few years.

Liz told me she loved oral sex but her husband wouldn't even try it, as soon as she said it, she actually blushed. Then she added she would like to try anal sex and could just imagine his reaction. When I asked what she does for sex, risking being totally shut down, she surprised me.

"Ten-minute missionary sex once or twice a month, then he cums and falls asleep and then I use one of my vibrators and sometimes my butt plugs and watch porn on my phone until I orgasm. Most nights he falls asleep and I just go straight to the phone."

She sighed and before I could think I said, "What a waste, Liz, you deserve to be fucked and made love to all the time." It was my turn to blush in the early morning light.

"Thanks, Rich, I wish so too," and then she was silent for almost the rest of the run.

I worried I had said to much and crossed over a line that made her uncomfortable.

Fortunately, the connectivity between Liz and myself, as we were drawn ever closer through sharing of the joy of exercise and the more intimate conversations about of personal lives, only grew. The topic of sex, what she liked, and what I liked became a common conversation. I knew, like me, she looked forward to our running, especially since she had suggested we meet and run every day during the week after only a few days together. I should have expected something to give at that point, but I was enjoying our time too much and ignored the warning sign.

We had begun to share texts, and coffee breaks, and had been eating lunch together when we could at the corporate cafeteria.

Now thinking back, when I close my eyes, I can almost feel the rain on my face the first time we did more than talk.

We had been running for almost twenty-five minutes, Liz was wearing Nike shoes, white shorts, her sports bra, her hair in a nice high ponytail, and like always she smelled of wildflowers and cinnamon. That day she seemed quieter than normal but still very happy to see me. When the rain first began, we gave it little thought as we never let the weather interfere with our time together. The morning was warm the rain felt refreshing.

When it became harder, we both laughed and she suggested heading for some trees on the edge of a park we frequently ran past each morning.

We stood together in the rain for a long time, after a while she turned and looked at me, "Can I ask you a question?" she asked as she subtly took my hand and held it, it was warm and sent a thrill through my entire body. We stood like that for several moments, I think both holding our breath, partly hidden by the shadows as the deluge showed no signs of abating.

"Sure," I said finally, squeezed her hand, and turned and looked at her; in the streetlights, her eyes seemed to sparkle, I knew what was coming, everything else around us seemed to just stop; now as I think about it, I even felt like the rain hung in the air, neither falling nor rising, everything just stopped.

One moment I waited for her to ask a question, the next her warm soft lips were intertwined with mine.

One moment, we were running buddies, coworkers becoming friends, the next we were so much more. She never asked her question, she didn't need to, and I never said anything, the moment was magic and opened doors neither of us could nor wanted to close.

The sexual tension between us, once released did not dissipate, in fact, it only grew once it was out in the open. I felt her tongue part my lips and I welcomed her into my mouth. My hands roamed her soaked body, one working its way to her firm bottom, softly kneading her toned cheeks, making her moan softly as her too-long pent-up desires surged from their containment.

My other hand found her wet breasts, my fingers and thumbs explored, rubbed, caressed, pinched, and massaged her beautiful boobs. Heavy breathing and much louder sounds of passion joined her soft moans.

We kissed and kissed, her body responding to my touch, so focused on her and what I wanted to give to her, that it took several moments for me to feel her small fingers sliding beneath my waistband and stroking my cock. We were just out of sight of early morning traffic as we kissed and played with each other; we could have been a million miles from civilization for all we noticed.

Liz whispered, "I want you inside me."

She helped me slide her shorts down, revealing a completely shaved pussy, Cheryl would never have done that, but then I remembered what Liz had said about her husband never going down on her. I murmured that I thought her pussy was so sexy, I whispered it in her ear as I surprised her and slowly dropped to my knees.

Moving down, I kissed her boobs, using my tongue, lips, and teeth to kiss and suckle her. I have no idea how long I lingered there, slowly but purposefully, I made Liz moan ever louder, felt her push herself against my mouth, felt the heat building between her legs, and caressed every inch of her body that I could reach.

Finally moving ever lower, I kept kissing and softly biting her, down to and then past her tummy, my hands and fingers gliding with just the lightest touch. I knew her eyes would be closed, and mine would be if I were her, she steadied herself as small tremors shook her knees moving soon to include her entire body.

I kissed and softly used my lips to add to what my fingers and hands were doing, it had been so long since I had done this to and for anyone, unfortunately, like Liz's husband, Cheryl always pushed me away when I tried to do this to her. I could never figure that out, I always tried to do the things to her that I would have wanted if I were a woman; judging from Liz's reaction, I thought she would have loved it.

Liz inhaled sharply as my tongue reached and circled her pussy, slowly running along the folds of her pussy and then taking advantage as her body began to open her lower lips, I began sucking pushing my face into her folds as they engorged and became wetter.

My tongue caressed and worked around, but never touched her little clit. Liz was now leaning hard against me, pushing herself against my face and shifting and rocking her pelvis against my lips, nose, and tongue. Her hands grasped both sides of my head, her body making sounds from letters and vowels that incoherently communicated the message that she was almost there.

The rain may have quit or may have continued, I didn't notice and didn't care. I remember thinking that maybe it would turn to steam as Liz managed to say a few words, "OMG Richard, that feels so fantastic, pplleeasseee dddoonnn'tttt ssstttoooppp." Then she ground herself into my face even harder than before.

The rain must have continued as we were both soaked completely, Liz's trembling was now all-encompassing, and she really struggled to stay on her feet, I began to let up a little and Liz responded in a most, unlike Liz's voice, "Rich, don't you dare stop."

Traffic was becoming steadier and we were barely hidden, as it became more and more light our secret place was less and less hidden, still I didn't slow down.

"Oooooooohhhhhhffffuccccckkkkkkrrrrriiiiiccchhhhaaaarrrrddddd," Liz gasped as she came, her juices flooding my face and mouth, this time her knees did buckle and she collapsed on top of me.

Her breathing came in loud and raspy gulps. She repeated "Ohhhh mmmyyyy GGgggoooddd!!!" over and over again as she remained partially collapsed on top of me.

She finally looked at me after several moments, smiled, and then moved face to face with me, kissing and licking herself from my face, as if she had never done this before with a vitality that almost took my breath away.