New Kahala

"I'm madly truly deeply out of my fucking depth."

"Don't worry, I've got it all worked out. I love you so everything will just have to fucking be fine or I'll kick its arse. Now shut up and kiss me then hold me in my safe place."

So I do. She must have brushed her teeth. She tastes of mint and her.

"Sorry, I didn't bring a tooth-brush."

"Never mind," she says spooned against me, "Bring one with you next weekend."

"Oh?"

"Next weekend you're borrowing the Dodge and moving all of mine and Sasha's things up here. You had probably better get all your things from the unit too because I can't live without you."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"Nope. I already worked it out with Sassy. If I move back home, she can rent out our side of the duplex and it will pay for itself. I can use her car to travel."

"One condition."

"Name it." She says rolling to face me.

"You let me pay for fucking removalists, I hate shifting house."

"Done." Then she pulls my face to her. "I love you dickhead."

"Not after living with me for a while you won't."

"Oh well, plenty of places out here to get rid of your body."

Then she snuggles warmly back against me. The feeling of her naked skin against mine and the lingering scent of our recent coupling have me hard against her pert little backside in no time.

"Goodnight Kitty, I love you."

"I can tell." She wiggles her bum against my erection. "I love you too. He'll have to wait for morning. I'm fucked."

"Me too, and very well thankyou."

I don't know if I stayed hard all night, that would probably have been quite painful but when I wake the next morning, I am in exactly the same position. Except this time a cheeky, sleepy angel has manoeuvred me inside her and is gently working herself on me.

"Good morning," She smiles looking back over her shoulder, "I wondered when you'd wake up. Some parts have been awake for a long time now."

"Good morning gorgeous." I lean across to kiss her and she rolls beneath me pushing up with her bum until still inside her, I'm kneeling behind her while she is face down on the bed.

"Hard and fast honey, I'd already cum before you woke up."

"Can't believe I didn't wake up."

"Shh, fuck me Jim."

And with no regard for her pleasure requested, I took hold of her hips and thrust deeply loving the feeling of her sliding along me and the sound of her bum hitting my thighs. I used her like a love doll. Pulling her onto and off of me, relishing in the sensation of her and sooner than I would have liked I pushed deep inside her one last time and emptied myself against the back of her.

We showered together after that and I got to know her even better. She has a small cluster of moles in the centre of her back that kind of look like the big dipper. Her underarms are extremely ticklish if you soap them too delicately. Her breasts not so ticklish, nor her many other now far too eagerly washed parts. I had to bend down for her wash my hair. That was such a strange experience.

Having her little hands work on my scalp was strangely sensual and very personal. Almost as intimate as letting her wash my balls and arse. My recently rather-well-used penis got a very thorough soaping.

"I only have tea. I don't drink coffee. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. Mum and Dad drink a lot of tea. Black and one please."

"Get fucked!"

"What?"

"That's exactly how Dad had his. These daddy issues are getting fucking creepy, honey."

"What happened to 'dickhead'. I was getting kind of used to it."

She blushes as she places the cups and saucers, a teapot, strainer and sugar on the table.

"You're still a dickhead but 'honey' fits you better." She kisses my cheek.

We spent that day shifting furniture out of her parent's room down into the old dairy. She got a bit teary a couple of times when she discovered small sentimental items, so I encouraged her to make a separate box for those things which we left in the library for the time being. By lunch time the room was empty and clean. She wanted to move her old bed into the room, but I told to leave it for the time being, we'd see where her other furniture fit best before moving everything.

The hole in the dairy roof stopped her in her tracks. Blue and I patched it some time ago and she stood there gazing at it for long minutes before rushing teary to me for a hug. "Thanks honey. You're putting me all back together too."

We had a cup of tea under the camphor laurel tree when we took a break around lunch-time. It was a beautiful cool shady spot and gave you a great view of the property. I can see why her parents liked to sit there. I was thinking about explaining this development to Mum. She would undoubtedly have some loud thoughts about the suddenness.

By late afternoon the old house looked rather empty and I stunk rather potently. Trina was covered in dust and there were cobwebs in her hair. She pulled me to the shower by tugging on my shirt and kissing me. Then she dropped to her knees in the bathroom and undid my trousers letting them fall to the floor.

Only one other woman has given me a blowjob near as good as Trina did right then and that was a nurse when I broke my arm a couple of years ago. The fact that this little purple eyed angel loved me made her nose against my pubes, her tongue on my balls and my dick in her throat all the more powerful. There was no way my bit longer than average penis should fit so deeply into such a beautiful face. There was no way I should have been able to cum so hard, but I did that too and she swallowed every last drop.

There was no way that I should have got hard again so quickly while we washed each other clean of our day's exertions but I am glad I did. And so was Trina who I pinned to the shower wall and savoured slowly and thoroughly.

Our trip back to the city was strangely quiet. Trina leaned against the window and stretched her legs along the bench. Dropping her off at the little duplex she asked if she could call me later before bed.

"Of course Kitty. Any time."

We kissed for far too long until she pushed a hand against me.

"Go now or you won't, or I won't let you. Just go. I love you Jim."

"I love you too." And she pulled the door quickly closed.

At the unit with Mum and Dad that night wasn't quite the mess I thought it could have been. Mum looked me up and down when I walked in and said, "Hmpf, better not be Suzette Franks. You go wash your hands and face before you kiss me hello. I know what you've been up to."

"Try and wash that shit-eating grin off too," Dad laughed.

There are two fifty-dollar notes sitting on the kitchen table when I plonk my laptop down and make myself a Jamesons.

"Well spill, boy your mothers gonna burst." Dad fixes me with a stern, over the glasses, court room glare.

"Trina."

"Hahahaha," he takes both the fifties off the table and tucks them into his wallet near the phone. "Told you Catherine."

"Bullshit, really? Well good on you Jim. I think that girls had a crush on you for as long as we've known her."

"Your mother thought it was one of the admin girls again."

"Really guys? You had money on it?" I ask

"It was fifty dollars or a blowjob Jim," Mum overshares, "Glad I put the money done now, you smug bastard." She tells dad.

My phone beeps on the table and I see a little chat-heads alert from Trina. Thumbing it open I find a picture of Trina lying on her bed, nothing rude or suggestive except for look on her face. I knew that look well. [Stupid lonely bed]

[Wish I was there.]

[It's a single dickhead, you'd have to sleep on top of me, wait okay, wish you were here too.]

[talk later Kitty]

Pushing it aside I search for local removal services and make some phone calls. Turns out that it's September school holidays and they are all booked solid shifting transferred teachers. One company rings me back as we eat tea later.

Taking the call away from the table I'm told that they've had a cancellation and have an available day Tomorrow. I tell them okay and brace myself.

"Mum, Dad, Trina's moving back out to the farm. Sasha can then rent out the other half and cut some costs."

"Sounds smart." Mum concurs.

"Only available day for the removalists is tomorrow."

"Jim," Dad says, "Do you really have to ask. We love the girl."

"You're an idiot," Mum tells me, "You're almost forty and you still ask us for permission on how you live your life."

"It's your unit, didn't want to be rude."

"What your mother is trying to say is that she's dying with curiosity and wants to quiz the little lady."

"She can take the train, it's just a short walk." Mum offers.

I'm thinking really hard about the logistics of the shift and Dad solves most of it for me, "Just take the day off tomorrow. Take the day off, get her sorted out then she can stay here until she's set up at her new place."

Mum adds, "What's the point of being the boss's son if you don't milk it now and then."

My phone rings on the table and mum looks across at it. I was going to let it go to message but she picks it up and swipes to take the call. She puts it back on the table and presses the speaker button.

"Hello Trina." She says smirking at me.

"Oh hello Mrs O'Sullivan is Jim there?"

"You're on speaker, we're having tea." Dad says.

"Oh. Hello honey."

"Gidday Kitty." Eyebrows are raised all round the table by the exchange of pet names.

"Just felt like something was bothering you Jim." Trina says. "Sounds stupid but felt like you were worrying."

"Hang on." Picking up the phone I take my plate to my bedroom.

"Just thinking about logistics darlin," I tell her putting the phone on the bed and back on speaker.

"Oh, having second thoughts?"

"Hell no. Just only day the removalists have available is tomorrow. They're booked solid and had a cancellation. Do you think you could get a day off?"

"Yes, of course. I've got two months of holidays that they're trying to get me to take. I'll take a week."

"Just the day if you want, you can stay here until the weekend and we can go up and unpack."

"That would be better, I really need the money at the moment. Will have to do a bunch of shopping for the shift."

"The station is just a couple of blocks away."

"Good, so what time tomorrow?" she asks, "I'll have to clean out the fridge and pack some personal stuff."

"I don't know. I have to get back to them and I'll let you know."

"Okay, talk to you soon honey."

"Bye."

A few phone calls later, the day is planned and I'm finished tea. I'm also pretty worn out. The Jameson's and the athleticism of the last few days has me beaten. Mum and Dad have already retired so I shower and fall straight to sleep.

Waking in the morning to an insistent and annoying alarm tone that I have been too lazy to change, I dress and take a train to Strathpine. Trina picks me up in Sasha's little corolla and the moving van is outside the duplex when we pull up. It's still only seven thirty in the morning, apparently they wanted to get an early start.

They work with absolute efficiency. Anything that is left unguarded is wrapped and boxed. I put my phone down after fielding a call from the office and had to dig through a box just minutes later to find it again. Trina barely has time to pack a suitcase, some toiletries and her handbag. In less than two hours we are standing in a bare flat.

They have instructions to simply unload everything underneath the house onto the concrete slab. By lunch time we have called cleaners and the real-estate that manages Sasha's property and we're waiting at the station.

"It's exciting." She smiles up from my lap. There are perfectly good seats but that is where she insists on sitting. "Like starting at a new school or going on a holiday."

There are black rings under her eyes and when I ask, she simply says, "Nightmares."

"Oh." I say and we board the train. It's packed with commuters and the smell of human cattle; a mix of perfumes, farts and body odour that I never really get used to. With standing room only, I hold the strap and Trina holds me as we trundle along. She insisted we stood near the doors for some reason. I suppose just one of those victim leftovers.

Her phone rings as we enter the lift at the unit.

"Hi."

"Thanks."

"Ha. I'm at Jim's."

"Okay."

She hands me the phone, "Hi?"

"She won't have told you but today's her birthday." Says a voice I recognise as Denise. "She doesn't like to make a fuss because it's also the day that her parents died."

"Fuck. That's cruel."

"Yeah. Hey, the trucks been and gone. Blue covered all her shit with a big tarp. Youse can sort it out on the weekend hey?"

"Sure cheers. Oh and thanks for the heads up Mum."

"No drama's, I'd tell you to spoil her, but I know you will."

I hand her phone back and pull her too me. "How old?"

Looking down she thinks for a moment then says, "Two hundred and thirty-one."

"Well, in dog years you're still a gorgeous thirty-three-year-old."

"Dickhead." She swats at me as I try and plant thirty-three kisses on her pretty head. I'm still trying when the door opens at our floor. I'm still trying to land the last three as she giggles outside the unit door.

"Stop it you wanker." She wriggles away from me long enough for Dad to open the door.

"Help," she says to him, "Your son is groping me."

"Can't say I blame him but mind your manners Jim." Dad tells me.

"Her fault Dad. It's her birthday and she was trying to keep it a secret."

"I was not." She punches me in the arm. "I just didn't tell you."

"Who's birthday?" Asks Mum. "Yours Trina?"

"Yes. But it's no biggy. Just another go around the sun."

"Nonsense. James Robert O'Sullivan, call and get us a table somewhere. We've got things to celebrate." Mum chides going thermonuclear on me and using my full name.

"Mum, she doesn't like to make a fuss." I tell her.

"Well we do. It's not every day our son brings home a beautiful woman on her birthday. Seems like something that we should celebrate to me."

"Pah! Get fucked. Jim Bob! Hahaha!" Trina blurts laughing, then in a hillbilly drawl, "Ya'll run along now and fetch us some watermelon, Jim Bob."

Mum wraps her in a big hug and says, "You and I are gonna get along just fine young lady."

I make a mental note of the date. Twenty-third of September. I'm not sure if that's a Virgo or a Libra but I am sure that when women say, 'get a table', you 'get a table'.

Gordon is good for a last-minute booking and Dad drives us in the Land Cruiser. Trina was embarrassed because she didn't bring any 'going out' clothes but looked absolutely stunning in the little yellow dress she was wearing the other day. With her curly golden hair and the dress, she looks like a little ray of sunshine in a dreary old world.

Gordon greets us personally. We're not regulars but we are friends. "Jim, how do you do it?" He asks shaking Trina's hand. "Tell me his secret." He says to Trina. "The last girl he brought here was almost as beautiful as you and clearly too good for him too."

"Pff... No secret. He's a dickhead, but he's got a really big willy Gordon." Trina says. "The last girl was my sister, she told me all about it."

Dad almost drops his stone-faced composure and Mum drops the lot. She laughs until Dad has to help her to the table and pour her a glass of water. Gordon's shoulders are still shaking with supressed laughter as he instructs a waiter to 'take special care of that table'.

Dinner is fabulous. I'm not sure if that's a word that men use often, but I'm truly comfortable describing the dishes we shared as fabulous. Gordon fed us banquet style. We never order from the menu when we dine here as a family, he creates what he thinks we'll enjoy sharing as a family and never disappoints.

Trina glows. Mum whispers conspiratorially with her all through the meal and they exchange laughter and nod like sisters. As dessert arrives Trina leans toward me and says, "You haven't told them yet?"

"What Kitty?"

"That you're moving too." It sounds like she's voicing a fear.

"Oh. No. Haven't had... wait. Mum, Dad..."

Their attention turns to me instead of their desserts and I continue, "On the weekend Trina and I are setting up her new house and you'll be short a tenant at the unit."

"What?" They chorus.

"I'm moving in with her."

"Poor bitch." Says Dad laughing.

"Oh Darling." Mum says pulling Trina over for a hug, almost spilling her wine in the process. "I hope you can put up with him. I'm so excited for you both."

The lights dim and a sparkling comes from the kitchen door. Gordon steps out holding a small plate with a gold cupcake shaped thing that has a sparkler in the top of it. "Happy Birthday..." And the whole restaurant joins in to sing happy birthday as he places the little cake in front of Trina.

"You're going to pay for this, dickhead." She tells me red-faced. "Probably two or three times."

Later she made very good on her promise. Although I only managed twice, we fell asleep happy and excited for the open road in front of us.

SURVIVORS

It took Trina a little while to get used to the idea that she didn't have to budget quite so furiously when we went shopping that week. I also had to adjust to the idea that she was a fastidiously independent person who found it hard to accept what she saw as my generosity but was simply my financial ability. I share the common philosophy, 'buy once, cry once' as it applies to spending a little bit more on quality items.

Finally, it came to a head when we were looking at beds. She fell in love with a particular suite that included a king size bed with a wrought iron head, side tables, two chests of drawers and a quality mattress. She wanted to go halves in it but couldn't afford fifty percent of the three-thousand-dollar price tag.

"I only have fourteen hundred dollars to spend on everything. I need to get groceries and a television and some-"

"So let me help. I'll get the bed, you buy the telly and groceries."

"No, that's not fair." She insists, "I need to pay half, otherwise I'll feel like some sort of gold-digging leech."

She punches me when I laugh at her.

"Look," I sit on the big bed and pull her down beside me. "You're going to have to get used to the fact that I earn considerably more than you and that we can afford to live a little differently than you're used to. If the 'fair' division of cost and contribution is important to you think about this for a moment. You earn what? About forty to fifty thousand a year?"

"Thirty-eight thousand." She says looking downcast.

"Ok and I earn almost three times that. So in fairness, I should be contributing almost seventy five percent to your twenty five percent."

"Now you're just trying to bullshit me with numbers, dickhead."

"Also, I'll be living rent free in a beautiful home on a farm that you own."

"Almost own, and you forgot the part where you get to bonk the beautiful girl on the big bed if she lets you buy it."

"Well if you're going to throw that into the deal," I tell her, "Then I'm paying for the whole lot."

"Alright. But I get to tie you to the wrought iron head board first."

"Damn it, okay."

There are lots of moments like that in the first few weeks. All the little potholes to navigate upon the road between living two lives and living one. We had our first argument in the second week of living together.

Coming home from work, I followed my normal routine of kissing my beautiful woman hello at the front door then changing into some yard clothes and taking the washing down to the laundry to throw a load through. Years of living a single life taught me that putting a load through every day meant no big weekend catch-ups.

"That's my job, dickhead." She said to me when I came upstairs. "I do the washing."

"I just like to help out Kitty."