Roll Me Away

It was back to business, so I cleared my throat. "So, as to my question: Will you be paying by cash, check, or charge?" She paid by check, and twenty minutes later, I was back in the service bay, tuning up a 125cc Yamaha Zuma.

~~~~~~~~~~

My waterfront condo is in a 24-floor tower with 160 units, so a security guard is always on duty in the lobby. Tonight it was Cherise, a tough woman from Oakland with her hair in cornrows and long braids. I'd come home and was just finishing my dinner of fast food when the building intercom buzzed. I hit the reply button.

"Hi, this is Chris."

"Mr. Beatty, this is Cherise in the lobby. You have a visitor." A visitor? That was odd; nobody ever visited me.

"I'm not expecting anyone. Who is it?"

"Says her name is Arya Bowes. Should I send her away?" Arya? What was she up to, we were supposed to be history! I toyed with the idea of asking Cherise to physically toss her out - given Arya's thin frame and the guard's substantial one, this wouldn't have been difficult - but the little flame that still flickered in my heart for Arya prevented it.

"No, send her up. Thank you, Cherise." Holy shit! Why was Arya here, now? While we were dating she'd never wanted to come to my place, like ever, but now things between us had ended she shows up? I had a lot of questions, but for the moment I ran around picking up fast food wrappers and straightening sofa pillow cushions before she arrived.

The doorbell chimed, I opened the door, and there she was: Arya, in 3-D. Tonight her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a plaid long-sleeved shirt and coveralls. No makeup on, just her own pretty face. I stood there for a few seconds, incredulous at the fact she was here, in front of me, in my condo. This was something I'd wanted for so long, but had given up on it ever happening.

I snapped out of my inadvertent trance when she asked, "Aren't you going to ask me in?"

"Oh, yes, of course, come in!" I said, gesturing into my living room. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, diet soda?"

Demurely stepping past me, she replied, "Actually, can I get a whiskey on the rocks?" This shocked me, as Arya always eschewed hard liquor, preferring a glass of wine like a pinot grigio. I went into the kitchen and made the drink while she sat on the sofa, facing the panoramic view of the bay.

As I handed her the drink, I asked, "So what brings you here?" as I sat in the chair next to the sofa. For obvious reasons, I didn't want to sit next to her. No, I take that back, I did want to sit next to her, but being close to her would... complicate things. I kept on with my questions, "On top of that, how did you even know where I live? You never wanted to come here while we were dating; it was like you were deliberately avoiding it, in fact."

"I asked your coworker Pilar. Once I explained I was your ex-girlfriend and waved a pregnancy test box at her, she gladly wrote it down for me." I slapped my forehead. Knowing Ramirez, at this very minute she was probably telling everyone within the city limits that I was somebody's baby daddy!

I felt myself getting angrier. "That was underhanded and sneaky, but that doesn't explain why you're here, on my couch, drinking my liquor! What's your deal, Arya? Was it not enough to go your own way? I thought that's what you wanted!"

Arya seemed to shrink at my words, then, taking a big drink of whiskey, she explained.

"Since I saw you leaving the Costanoan Ale House, I've been thinking a lot about you and me. Dating Eric made me feel good about myself, but I still struggle with dysphoria - except when I'm with you. I always feel like a complete woman when we're together. I feel happy, safe, and always very feminine."

I wasn't buying it. "That sounds good when you say it, but doesn't change the fact that you were locking lips with, what was the dipshit's name? Oh yeah, Eric! Knowing you, you probably fucked him, too." Seeing the look of pain that crossed Arya's face, I immediately regretted saying that.

Before I could apologize, Arya jumped up and sobbed, "I need to use your bathroom," then stumbled down the hall. I heard her locking the bathroom door, the sound of retching following a moment later.

I tapped lightly on the door and called out, "Are you OK? Do you need help?"

"I'm fine," I heard her voice reply weakly, "I shouldn't have had whiskey on an empty stomach." She retched a couple more times, then the toilet flushed. This was followed a moment later by the sound of teeth being brushed. The door gave a loud 'snick' as it unlatched; when it swung open, Arya was standing there wearing only my bathrobe, still looking a little green around the gills.

"I had to use your toothbrush, I'm sorry," she apologized, looking up at me with sorrowful eyes, "I didn't want to be gross."

I had a lot of reasons to be mad at Arya. She'd rejected the idea of us being exclusive, after all. Adding insult to injury, she began dating some blonde fuckboy who was clearly younger than me, one who could, like her friend Dianne Richards, probably kick my ass.

Then when I tried to cut Arya off and make a clean break of it, she'd put in a fake service call to flash her boobs at me in a crazy attempt to lure me back. (I had no proof, but was convinced it was her who'd cut that spark plug wire.) An attempt, I might add, that damn near succeeded.

Then, the sneaky little vixen had tricked Pilar into giving her my address by making my coworker think I'd knocked her up! What was really maddening was all the times I had asked her up, she'd turned me down! The dichotomy of her actions was infuriating! I had more than enough reasons to kick her out.

But now, looking down at her sickly-but-sweet face, I saw the same vulnerability that had first drawn me to her. My heart melted. Muttering, "Damn it, Arya," I took her in arms and held her, kissing the top of her head.

She started to cry, and by that I mean hard, ugly crying, from the bottom of her heart. "I don't want to lose you, Chris," she sobbed, "nobody treats me like you do. I know I've been horrible and you have every right to hate me, but please, don't hate me."

That's when my tough outer shell cracked. Bending my head down, I kissed her tear-stained cheeks, then moved to her mouth. Her arms encircled my neck and we stood in a fervid embrace, as we exchanged passionate kisses. I moved my hands down to cup her ass, pulling her against my unyielding erection. She moaned slightly, pressing herself against me.

Pausing for a moment, in a low voice I admitted, "Whatever you've done, I can never hate you, Arya. You've been through so much, I just..." I stopped talking because she began pulling my t-shirt over my head, throwing it to the floor.

"Arya, what are you doing," I managed to ask before she began undoing the front of my jeans.

My jeans hit the floor, and I stepped out of them as she asked, "Remember the time I told you I wasn't emotionally ready to be naked in front of you?" I recalled that painful night quite clearly. How could I not?

"Yes, I remember," I told her, "we were watching a basketball game, you told me your life's story, we started making out, things got heated and then you disappeared. Is that what's happening here? Are you going to get me all stirred up and then disappear?"

She shook her head, then knelt and pulled my boxer shorts to the ground, my cock bobbing as it sprang free of the waistband. She planted a kiss on the tip, and a shock went through my body like I'd been struck by lightning. "I'm not disappearing," she whispered, "I came over to tell you that I'm ready now. I want you to see me naked."

Leaning over, I picked her up in my arms and carried her to the bedroom. After years of pushing 300 pound scooters around, her weight was nothing. Gently laying her down on the bed, I lay down beside her. My cock was aching, but there was no way I was going to rush this. I untied the knot of the bathrobe, but instead of opening it, leaned over and kissed her.

"Arya," I whispered, "I love that we're doing this, but before we go too far I have to ask. Are you still seeing Eric? You should know by now, I don't want to share you. Having you in my bed is pretty serious. If he's still in the picture, as much as I want you, this can't happen."

She covered her eyes with her hands and shook her head. "There is no Eric, he was a horrible mistake. All he wanted was to get in my pants. I really liked him at first, we were on our first date when you saw me kissing him. But on our second date he was a different person.

"He tried to get me drunk, kept pawing at me, trying to put his hands up my shirt and down my pants. When I wouldn't let him, he got mad, called me a whore and left me standing alone outside of a Point Richmond bar. I had to call Dianne to come take me home."

I shook my head. "Wow, hell of a nice guy, leaving you stranded at night, a half-hour from home." I reached down, moved her hands off her face, and kissed her lovingly. "You know I'd never ever pull that kind of a dick move, right?"

She didn't reply, just nodded, then pulled the robe to either side, revealing her body. While I'd often admired her legs, as well as getting a down-blouse glimpse of her breasts when she'd flashed me during the bogus service call, I wasn't quite prepared for seeing her laid out on my bed, totally exposed. She was gorgeous, like Botticelli's painting of Venus.

Her small breasts rose and fell as she breathed, and I couldn't resist taking each puffy nipple in my mouth and teasing it, making her gasp in pleasure. Then I kissed my way down her belly, teasing her navel with my tongue on the way. Then I stopped to admire what was between her legs.

The organ was semi-erect, about 4 inches long, nestled in a thin carpet of pubic hair; the testicles there seemed to have shrunk, clinging tightly to her torso. Being a good boyfriend, while we were dating I read a great deal about the effects of hormone replacement therapy, and was aware that estrogen and androgen blockers causes the male genitals to atrophy. It was fascinating.

"Arya, can I touch you here?" I asked, "this looks like the cutest little clit. I love it, and how feminine it makes you look." I placed a soft kiss on her pubic bone, just above it, and she shuddered slightly, hopefully in pleasure.

In a voice so quiet I could barely hear her, she whispered "Yes." I took the semi-rigid clitty in my fingers, massaging it gently. It began to harden more.

"Do you like me rubbing your clit? Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes." Her eyes were now closed and her hands gripped the sheets; she lay with her knees bent and her heels were pressing into the mattress. She was shaking steadily now, her pale skin flushed with excitement.

I continue to fondle her, slowly stroking the velvety hardness. I was loving how she was trusting me enough to submit herself to me. "This pretty little thing of yours looks so tasty, I'm going to take in my mouth, unless you want me to stop," I teased, "is that you want?"

Her eyes still closed, she shook her head and pleaded, "No, don't stop."

That was my cue; I kissed my way from her pubic bone up the brief length her hardness until I reached the tip. Once there, I opened my mouth and took it all in - it didn't even hit the back of my throat - then moved my tongue back and forth along the underside. I started off slowly, using my lips to shield her little clitty from my teeth.

One of the things I loved about my ex-wife was how she'd lose control when I went down on her. For those few moments, I was the one in control, and she was my willing victim. I was getting that same thrill of control now as I moved my head up and down, using the fingers of one hand to caress Arya's undersized nut sack. I could sense she was losing control, pushing her hips up as if urging me to take her deeper.

Feeling the thrust of her hips and hearing her little yips of pleasure, I was now in control, sucking faster, taking her clitty deeper until my nose pressed into the thin carpet of pubic hair right above the base of it. I felt her hands pressing on the back of my head, her fingers running through my hair as she repeated, "Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yesssss..."

Suddenly my lover's body went rigid and she gave out a sharp cry; I felt her clitty throb, then a few small jets of cum shot onto my tongue. If Arya had a regular set of balls I probably would have choked, but her little load was just right, and I swallowed it easily. Feeling her slim body shaking from the aftershocks of my ministrations to her sweet clit was a real rush; she'd come for me!

My rigid cock was demanding that I fuck her immediately, but it was overruled by my emotions that demanded I be a good lover and cuddle with her. As she lay there still moaning from her orgasm, I turned her on her side and made sure she had plenty of covers to keep her slim body warm. Then, sliding in behind her and spooning, I draped my arm over her possessively. It was all so perfect, I couldn't resist lowering my head and planting a few kisses on her shoulder and the back of her neck.

"I love you, Arya," I whispered, and meant it. Even if she'd fallen asleep and not heard me, I was happy to finally have said it out loud. It was official: the little nymphette in my arms meant everything to me, I didn't think I could love her any more than I did right then.

On Tuesday at 1:38am, I was proven wrong.

I was deeply asleep, wrapped in the arms of Morpheus, as they say. I vaguely felt motion on the bed, but being so deeply asleep it barely registered. Suddenly I felt a soft and warm sensation on my cock, and I slowly began to regain consciousness. My eyes flickered open, and I saw the soft blue glow from the clock radio's digits reading 1:31am.

As I came back into consciousness I realized my little nymphette was no longer wrapped in my arms. Feeling motion at my feet, I looked down at the Arya-sized lump under the covers, at the same time feeling the soft and warm sensation that had originally woken me up.

Suddenly my cock beginning to stiffen, sucked into a wet warm place. A small hand reached down and cupped my balls, getting wetter by the second from the saliva dripping off my cock. "Oh my god," I gasped, her head bobbing on my stiffened cock.

I felt it hit the back of her throat, followed by the 'gwak-gwak-gwak' sound of her repeatedly trying to swallow me whole. Primed by the sensation of her spongy tongue sliding down the underside of my hardness, it didn't take long to feel my release on its way. My lust having been denied earlier while going down on her, it was inevitable.

Arya's lips formed a tight ring around my girth as she bobbed up and down, the warm air exhaled from her nostrils blowing across my belly. I was going out of my mind in pleasure, trying to hold off from cumming because I did not want this to end! I would have had better luck standing on the beach, trying to stop the tide.

"Arya," I tried to warn her, "Arya I'm close, I'm going to..." but the little nymph paid me no mind, instead doubling down by pressing two fingers against my saliva-slickened sphincter, slipping one in. To describe it in a word, I exploded. My whole body felt like I'd been Tasered, and my limbs shaking as jet after jet of my warm semen filled her little mouth.

I managed to lift my head and look down; the blanket had fallen away; In the moonlight from the bedroom window I saw Arya handling it like a pro, her nostrils flaring as she swallowed every single drop. Her hair was a tangled mess, jizz and saliva were dripping down her chin and off her fingers. At that moment she looked like a cock-loving wanton little slut, and at the same time the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.

Now that I'd finished shaking, I reached down and pulled her so she lay directly atop me with my arms wrapped around her. I loved feeling the warmth of her body along with the sensation of her luscious little breasts pressed to my pectorals, and of her little clitty trapped between our torsos, pressed against me just above the root of my cock. Not caring her mouth was covered with spit and ejaculate, I took her face in my hands and kissed her deeply. Her kisses were equally as passionate, and we lay there for a while exchanging caresses.

My brain being overwhelmed with post-climax endorphins, oxytocin, and dopamine, I gave in to the urge to confess my feelings to the woman in my arms. Given how commitment-phobic Arya had been up until now, I should have known better than to open that door but my romantic urges got the better of me.

"Arya, I love you so much," I told her, "I don't want you living in that shitty apartment. I want you to move in here with me!" Not surprisingly, Arya laid there quietly.

"You make me so happy, I want us to be a couple, hell, I could even see us getting married."

I slid her off my chest and onto her side, then turned onto my side, facing her. "I have to drive up to Truckee next weekend for my cousin Lucy's wedding, and I'll be staying at my sister Gretchen's place. She runs a bakery up there, so there's always a bunch of leftover pastries in her kitchen. I'd really like it if you'd come with me and meet Gretchen and her kids. They're the only family I have left, and I know they'll love you!"

Reaching over, I pulled Arya in close to me, wrapping my arms around her. (Did I mention how good it felt holding her in my arms? Feeling her nakedness against me just never got old.) "One more thing I've been giving a lot of thought to, you know how you told me you were saving up money for reassignment surgery? Along with this condo, I ended up with an investment account from my divorce with about $30,000 in it. If we were to get married, I'd like to use that money to pay for your surgery."

Arya lay in stunned silence, then whispered, "You'd do that for me?"

Kissing her forehead, I assured her, "Of course! You make me happy, Arya, and I love you for it. I'll do anything I can to make you happy!"

After another few seconds of silence, she asked in a soft voice, "You've given me a lot to think about, can I sleep on it?"

She was right, I'd opened up and laid out my master plans; no doubt it was a lot to take in. "Of course, it's perfectly understandable. Take as much time as you need," I assured her.

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulled me into her and we kissed a little more before falling back to sleep. I still wanted to have penetrative sex, but realized I didn't have any lube. Not a problem, I'd pick up some at the pharmacy tomorrow. I was in love, I could wait one more day.

What I failed to realize was the bigger problem: Since Arya had showed up in the lobby of my building, I'd told her I loved her three times. Looking back at our conversations, however, she hadn't told me she loved me, not even once. Not for the first time, I got blinded by love and ended up emotionally devastated.

~~~~~~~~~~

Let's talk about writing. It's said that Socrates eschewed papyrus, preferring instead to 'write on the souls of his students'. Over eighteen hundred years later in 1517, Martin Luther's famous theses were printed on the newly-invented printing press. Nearly two hundred years after that in 1776, Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence on parchment made from animal skin. Fast forward another two hundred fifty years, Arya Bowes wrote me a break-up letter on the back of a pizza box she found in my garbage can.

I woke up the morning after our amazing night only to find myself alone. I called out for Arya, but she was nowhere in the condo. A quick call down to the security guard at the front desk revealed Arya had left two hours prior. I was crushed. The girl I'd professed my love for, hoping she'd be in my life forever, was gone just like that. Again.