I'll Be There For You

I hopped off the bed, forcing more bounce to my step than I really felt. I kept up the illusion of boundless energy until I disappeared from sight in the bath. I turned on the water and let it run while I leaned on the sink to keep my wobbly knees from collapsing under me. After a few deep breaths, I wet a washcloth, washed my face and neck. I rinsed the washcloth several times in warm water, wrung it out and grabbed a hand towel.

When I got back to the bed, I removed the condom from Peter's now soft cock, tied it off, and dropped it into the waste basket next to the bed. I washed Peter's face. Then his cock and dried it. I could feel him watching me, though I didn't look up from my task. Amazingly, Peter began showing signs of arousal again. I quickly finished. I was tender and needed a rest. I wasn't sure I was up for another go. At least not until we got something to eat, and I had some time to recover.

"Sage?" Peter asked soothingly. I knew he'd want to talk. And about what. "Did you just get carried away in the moment?"

I took a deep breath. Here was an opportunity to turn a heartfelt, but inadvertent, expression of my feelings into a heat-of-the-moment faux pas. I was terrified and nervous. The butterflies back in my stomach.

"It's okay if you did," Peter continued. "I'd understand."

I decided to suck it up and own up to my feelings, even if I hadn't entirely come to grips with what I'd said. "I said it in the heat of the moment." I hesitated for a second, then added, "But I meant it, Peter. I wouldn't have said it otherwise." The second the words came out I felt my unease dissipate.

He smiled and held a hand against my cheek again. "I'm glad. I meant it, too. I've wanted to tell you for a while. But I was afraid you weren't ready." Peter sat up. He kissed me, just brushing his lips to mine. Then he kissed my nose, my forehead, and each cheek. After he kissed my neck and my shoulder, he leaned back. He smiled gently. "I've got to tell you something else. I love you," he grinned, devilishly, and added, "but you need a shower.".

I lightly swatted his arm. "You don't smell so sweet yourself," I said defensively.

"Let's have a shower and an early dinner. We'll still have time to come back here for a while before we go home tonight."

I looked at Peter skeptically. "What do you have in mind when we return? I'm not sure what I'll be up for."

"I'm sure we can come up with something to do."

"I'll bet. You know, I have to be able to walk when I go home tonight."

"Why?"

My jaw dropped. When Peter laughed, I pushed him over, and got up. "I'm going to take a shower," I huffed, feigning annoyance.

"I'm right behind you," Peter said, quickly hopping from bed, strangely rejuvenated. "Has anyone ever told you you've got a really nice ass?"

I looked over my shoulder and shot him a sultry look. "Once or twice," I smiled. "Hands off if you're joining me."

The cottage didn't have an inside tub. There was a hot tub outside. The bathroom had a large, modern tile shower with an all-around shower system, including two rain shower heads. I turned on a single shower head. The water was cold. I stepped aside and stood out of the spray until the water was perfect while Peter gathered our clothes and put them on the bed. Once the temperature was perfect, I stepped into the spray and let the warm water rejuvenate my tired muscles.

When Peter stepped into the shower, he immediately hopped out of the spray. "I knew you were hot but didn't realize you were a volcano goddess," he said.

I grinned at him. "Wuss. Can't take a little warm water?"

"Warm? It's like getting sprayed with lava."

After a minute or two, Peter acclimated enough to the water temperature that he finally stepped into the spray and wrapped his arms around me, standing behind me. I reached over to the controls and turned on the other shower heads. Peter winced and slapped my butt playfully when he got blasted by a brief flow cold water.

We took turns washing each other. I had to encourage Peter to stay on task when he seemed to stall when washing favored body parts. I sat on a corner seat while he washed my hair. His sensual touch almost caused another orgasm when he massaged my scalp while shampooing my hair. I was glad I could sit. I don't think my knees would have held me up. Having Peter's semi-erect cock in my field of view didn't help.

Peter's growing arousal while I washed him convinced me to stay focused. I didn't want to start anything I wasn't prepared to immediately follow through on. I washed him thoroughly. I had to fend him off several times while I shampooed his hair. I'm sure I enjoyed the view from the shower seat as much as he did; I just exercised more self-control.

Once we were washed, I turned off the water while Peter reached out and fetched towels for us. I stepped out first and finished drying off and went to the sink to brush my teeth. I giggled at Peter's reflection when he stepped out of the shower into the bathroom light. He looked like a boiled lobster. The water temperature really was a bit hot for him. Fortunately, his skin tone returned to normal while we dressed.

The restaurant looked like some billionaire's huge mountain lodge from the outside. It sat atop a small, beautifully landscaped hill above the parking lot and made for an imposing sight. Inside, the soaring cathedral ceiling was made up of big logs stripped of their bark. The support structure for the roof and the cross members were even bigger logs. The hostess showed us to a table near a huge stone fireplace with a real wood fire. Twice during our dinner, a kid carried in an armload of firewood and fed the fire. The dining room was a bit loud for the small crowd of patrons having an early dinner.

Though I'd never been, I knew the restaurant's reputation for great steak and seafood. I ordered the petit filet, medium rare, with a baked potato and grilled mushrooms. The vegetable of the day was steamed broccoli. Peter had blackened halibut with mashed potatoes, and of course, steamed broccoli. The house dressing on the salad was an amazing onion honey mustard concoction, though I don't think Peter liked it as much as I did. A small, fresh-baked loaf of crusty bread arrived with our salads. I had a single glass of a Chilean merlot. Peter had two glasses of a dry, white Bordeaux that he had me taste before I took a sip of my merlot. It was quite good though its appeal would pale paired with my steak.

Our dinner conversation was relaxed. Light, breezy, and filled with good humor. We both made whispered reference to our afternoon dalliance. But we avoided the 800-pound gorilla of our newly professed love.

I was ravenous when we sat down and still a little hungry after I finished my dinner. The chocolate lava cake on the dessert card in the salt and pepper stand caught my attention. I couldn't resist it and ordered a glass of Port to go with it.

When my dessert came, I asked Peter, "No dessert?" after our server left.

Peter smiled. "My whole day has been dessert." He reached across the table and took my hand. "Sage, this has been the best day I've had in a very long time." He leaned over the table to get closer to me and whispered. "And not because we spent the afternoon in bed. I've enjoyed every second of my day. From the moment my alarm went off, just knowing I was going to spend the day with you raised my spirits. I'd have been as happy being with you if we only went for a hike. Dropping you off at home tonight is going to be very difficult."

I felt myself blush. I almost dropped my spoon. Flustered, and not knowing what to say, I bought a moment by reaching across the table to feed the first bite of my dessert to Peter. Wearing a smile, he made me work to get my spoon back when I tried to pull it from between his lips.

The short drive back to the cottage was quiet. I wanted to sit close to Peter, but that damned center console was in the way again. I contented myself with reaching over it and resting my hand on his leg.

It was already dark when we got inside. Peter fired up the gas fireplace while I turned on the TV and found a cable music channel that played soft rock. We settled onto the love seat in front of the fireplace and held each other, my head resting on Peter's shoulder, while his arm went around my shoulders.

I was rubbing Peter's leg when I looked up at him and asked, "So, what do we do now?"

He laughed lightly. "Good question. I want to be with you every day but, at least for now, I know that's not likely."

"Should we start by introducing the kids?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's going to be interesting," he responded with a small laugh. "When do we do that?"

"What are you doing for the holiday?" I asked, guardedly.

"Dinner with the kids and their maternal grandparents. My sister's at her in-laws. Our parents are going there, too. You?"

"Dinner at my house with my parents and my sister's family. Liz and Henry are in Colorado Springs for Thanksgiving with their daughter's family. Their son-in-law is a civilian Air Force employee. He was posted to teach at the Air Force Academy a few months ago." What I didn't say was that I'd love to see their daughter, Beth, again. But we rarely see each other because I can't stand her husband. I don't understand why she puts with the philandering jerk, especially since they have no children. But I keep my mouth shut. The asshole had the nerve to offer to "comfort me" me when they were in town for Malcolm's services.

"How about Friday?" Peter asked. "Any plans?"

I shook my head to indicate no. "Recuperating from Thursday's pandemonium," I laughed. "Why don't we have dinner at my house Saturday? Some small bit of my sanity could return by then."

"Let's not make it a big deal," Peter said. "I'll pick up pizza on my way to your house. Soda okay for the kids?"

I rarely let the kids drink soda. "Sure," I agreed, adding, "I've got a bottle of chianti, or two, for us. We may need both before the night is done."

"Anything Annabelle and Tyler like, or don't like, on their pizza?"

"Annabelle will eat anything except anchovy. Tyler is partial to Hawaiian pizza. But he'll eat any pizza put in front of him."

Peter laughed. "He'll find a kindred spirit in Brianna. Instead of the medium Hawaiian I get for Brianna, I'll get a large. The rest of us at my house can't wrap our heads around pineapple on pizza. It's sacrilege."

"Okay. Pizza and soda for the kids. Pizza and chianti for us."

Peter's hand dropped from my shoulder to my breast and he kissed the top of my head. I'd enjoyed snuggling in front of the fire, but it suddenly dawned on me I was rubbing the inside of Peter's thigh all through the time we were sitting. The other leg of his pants clearly showed my light caresses had an unintended effect. Peter wasn't fully erect, but he was headed that way. I was still a bit tender from earlier. And while another romp was appealing, I needed more time to recuperate.

I looked up at Peter and smiled. "It looks like I started something I hadn't intended," I whispered.

"It's okay," he smiled back at me. "It'll pass. We're coming back tomorrow."

"Uh-uh," I smiled and softly brushed my lips to his. I slipped off the love seat onto the floor, taking a pillow with me. I pushed Peter's knees apart and dropped the pillow between his feet.

"I'm okay, Sage. You don't have to . . .," I knelt on the pillow and ran my hands up the inside of Peter's thighs. When I got to his erection, I ran a fingernail lightly along its length. Using just enough pressure to tickle through the fabric. When I leaned forward and nibbled on the bulge, Peter inhaled sharply. "You don't have to, but I might not forgive you if stop now."

I looked up at him and grinned devilishly. "They shortchanged my dessert," I pouted. "They didn't put whipped cream on my lava cake." I returned my attention to his erection.

I spent the next few minutes nibbling, caressing, tickling, and sucking the bulge. A large wet spot grew; where I slobbered along his length. The slightly salty taste I detected suggested Peter had contributed to darkening the fabric. When I thought I'd tortured Peter enough, I leaned back and stripped to the waist. By the time I tugged at his belt, Peter's erection was fully developed, and obviously causing considerable discomfort trapped inside the leg of his pants.

I didn't have to expend much effort to get Peter's pants down. He was quite cooperative. His erection popped up, thick and hard, the tip wet and leaking when I pulled his pants and boxers down.

I had to suppress a laugh. Pink Floyd's "Us and Them" began playing on the TV as I took Peter's circumcised head between my lips. Its soft vocals and gentle music evoke a relaxing, romantic atmosphere, though the lyrics paint an entirely different picture. The same song was playing on my dorm room stereo when I got on my knees, the first time I sucked a boyfriend to ejaculation. I've no idea why that memory crossed my mind then, but it did. As did the fact that old boyfriend didn't make it through the second verse before he erupted. Peter lasted longer, but not to the end of the song. He erupted midway through the sax break before the closing verses. I decided to indulge my evil side for a few minutes. I didn't stop until the song ended.

I smiled up at my breathless lover when I let his softened cock slip from between my lips and showed his spend to him. I leaned forward again after I swallowed and licked his cock clean while he gently caressed behind my ears. Once I finished, I stood. My knees and hips rebelled until my legs were straight. I plopped onto the love seat and curled up against Peter, snuggling my head into the nook of his shoulder.

"That's it for me, tonight. I got nothing left," I whispered.

"My god, Sage. If I didn't already know I loved you, that would have convinced me."

I felt my face flush. "What? I did that in the park."

"Not the same. This time was different," he said softly.

"I didn't hear any complaints last time," I needled as I poked him in the ribs.

"There was nothing to complain about. It was incredible. Just far more intense this time."

"Maybe it's because we're in love now," I whispered. "Last time we were just feeling our way."

"Maybe. But I've been in love for a while. I think it's because I know you're in love now, too." I smiled up at Peter, snuggled in closer and nibbled on his neck. "Can I propose an experiment?" he asked softly.

I lifted my head and looked up at him. "What kind of experiment?" I asked, wondering where this was going.

"Let's do that one more time before we go home tonight. I bet it's just as intense." I could hear the restrained mirth in his voice.

I sat up and swatted Peter on the leg. "You might never be the beneficiary of my generosity again," I said, feigning irritation.

He broke up laughing and pulled me into a hug. "I love you, Sage Pinkney. And I'll still love you even if you never do that again. Though I hope you will."

I extracted myself from Peter's embrace. "I'm gonna brush my teeth. We should get dressed and head home."

"I guess. I want to stay here with you, but I promised the kids I'd look in on them when I got home. If we leave soon, they might still be awake."

"What time are you picking me up tomorrow?" I asked.

"After breakfast. How does ten or so sound?"

"I'll tell Candace. Should we do something besides have sex?"

"Before or after?"

I grinned. "How about in between?" I asked.

"I love you, Sage Pinkney," Peter smiled.

"What's with using my first and last names?"

"I like the sound of it."

"My name was Abernathy. Pinkney was my husband's name."

"He was a lucky man."

As I rode home that night, I realized I hadn't heard my husband's voice since the morning after the tornado. I got a bit of a chill when I thought about it. And felt a little guilty, too. I was sure I loved Peter. But something about the feeling Malcolm was watching over us was reassuring. I had mixed feelings about the possibility that my relationship with Peter would end Malcolm's watch. I was a little worried about it. Malcolm's "presence" was always either helpful or protective, even though every time it happened it unnerved me. I also worried a bit that "Malcolm" might resent Peter.

Thanksgiving with my parents and my sister's family went much like it always did. It was my turn to host. Five kids wound up because they were spending the day with their cousins. Too much food and way too many sweets. I had Black Friday off and like every year, no inclination to participate in the insanity, rudeness, and physical abuse Black Friday shoppers could be subject to. I didn't plan to leave the house.

Saturday morning brought a mild case of trepidation. Peter was bringing pizza and soda, which would make Annabelle and Tyler happy campers at dinner. I wasn't sure what they'd think about finally meeting him. Sure, they were curious about the man they saw Mom go on dates with. I deflected the tough questions but answered any that were innocuous. I didn't know what Peter told his kids though I was sure he told them something. I was reasonably confident the kids would figure out how to get along. How my kids would react to Peter and how Peter's kids would react to me were the questions.

At lunch I told Annabelle and Tyler that Peter was joining us for supper and was bringing his children. I got the expected questions and did my best to answer them. "Yes, Peter is my boyfriend." "No, we don't have any plans to get married." "Yes, it's likely you'll see more of Peter in the future." "I can't tell you much about Brianna, Nicole, and Brandon because I haven't met them either. We'll all get to know them at the same time."

Peter arrived with a stack of pizzas at about four. His kids carried in the drinks. As it turned out, I didn't have much to worry about. Peter made a friend for life when Tyler saw the Hawaiian pizza. He and Brianna bonded over their shared pizza despite their age difference. After dinner, Nicole, Brandon, and Tyler found common ground. The three of them shared common video game interests. Nicole definitely fit the tomboy stereotype. Brianna took Annabelle under her wing and the two of them hung out in Annabelle's room after dinner. When it was time to go home, Annabelle wanted Brianna to spend the night. But Peter and his kids had plans for Sunday. Annabelle grudgingly accepted an overnight would have to wait for another time.

Our families gradually became fixtures at each other's homes. The five kids bonded to the point that they began to act like siblings. They sometimes got along well. Sometimes ignored each other. Brianna helped all of them with homework from time to time. There were the usual sibling rivalries and squabbles. Even though we lived in different houses and we maintained our own familial ties, there was definitely a sense of family developing. It was Brianna that first really drove it home one Sunday afternoon.

We were seated at one of the tables on Peter's younger sister Sue's and her husband Bob's deck. Peter and Bob had just gone off to play horseshoes with Peter's father George, and Jeff. Sue, Sienna, Peter's mother Dana, Brianna, and I were relaxing at the table with the remains of dinner still spread out. The rest of the kids were scattered about, playing on the backyard playground equipment.

"Mama Sage, would please pass the macaroni salad?" Brianna asked nonchalantly.

Though surprised, I maintained my composure though Sienna, Dana, and Sue weren't able to hide their surprise. Brianna didn't pick up on their reaction. She was too focused on doling out another helping of macaroni salad. She'd already polished off two cheeseburgers with the works, a loaded hotdog, tossed salad, two helpings of macaroni salad, Boston baked beans, and some of the finger food put out before cooking began. It amazed me how much the rail-thin, nearly six-foot tall thirteen-year-old girl could eat.