Sarah, Cara Mia

Sarah grimaced as Uncle Joe patted her back, a little low for her comfort, "Hey, all grown up and going out into the world," he winked. "Bet all them college boys will love ya!"

"Uh huh." Yada yada yada. Rolling her eyes, Sarah grabbed empty bottles and swung around, walking back to the house with her strawberry blond hair and the skirt of her yellow dress fluttering behind. She shook her head and stepped into the cool living room, glad to escape, only to encounter Mom.

"Sarah, you don't have to clean up today--it's your party, remember? You only go away to college once!" Her mother lay her hands on her shoulders and a kiss on her forehead, "I'll pick up later--go mingle with every one!" Mom grabbed a tropical napkin and her matching fruity drink and headed to the patio.

Sarah sighed. Throwing out the empties, then wiping the counter, she peeked around the corner at the back yard. Relatives, a few neighbors, and her older brother Jason milled about, laughing and sloshing drinks. Mom and Dad-married thirty years. Grandma and grandpa...who the hell knew anymore? All part of life, pairing off and growing old together.

Hoping to stave off her return to the har-har yuck-yuck scene, Sarah rinsed dishes and glanced at Jason, laughing with Aunt Marie and cousin Leslie under the Sunbrella. He had said his friend Tristán might stop by to wish Sarah good luck at school. Sarah had something else in mind.

Tristán appeared four years ago when he and Jason became friends in HVAC school. Not real tall and seemingly shy, perhaps conscious of the scar from a cleft palate, he was in terrific shape and had the most beautiful deep brown eyes Sarah had ever seen. She thought about those eyes nearly every day, wishing they would look on her with desire ever since she met him. She was fourteen at the time, and he twenty. Polar opposite of Jason, Tristán was always quiet and polite. Perhaps Jason's outspokenness attracted him, and Tristán's level head kept Jason out of trouble. Sometimes. He always treated Sarah kindly, always a gentleman, to Sarah's annoyance, but then, she knew that their age difference could mean trouble for him.

In July, she turned eighteen. She hadn't seen him since her birthday, and she wished he'd appear now. Tristán, the only guest for whom their reclusive gray cat, Ghost, ever purred and approached. Over the years, Sarah watched Tristán gently scratching Ghost's neck, murmuring sweet nothings to the cat in Spanish. Perhaps Ghost remembered him from another life. Maybe Ghost knew something she didn't.

She heard the back door open and shut, the scuff of boots and a man softly singing No Te Apartes De Mí, then he stopped. She heard a meow, then, "Ah, Ghost, what you doing out here, huh? Hiding in the laundry room?" Silence. She pictured Tristán bending over to scratch Ghost's neck, but not for long. She took several deep breaths while gripping the edge of the sink.

Dressed in new jeans and a dark button down with the sleeves turned up, Tristán quietly floated into the kitchen, into her life, yet on the outskirts.

"Tristán, you came," Sarah smiled and approached him with arms outstretched. "Come on, I'm leaving for a year, give me a hug!" She wrapped her arms around his neck; he reluctantly embraced her.

"Oh, come on, harder!" Sarah giggled.

He tightened his solid arms around her, the heat through his shirt warming her midriff, "Your brother isn't gonna kill me, is he?" He chuckled into her hair.

"Who cares about Jason. He's outside, anyway." She leaned back, her hands resting around his neck, "Come up stairs, I want to talk to you about something."

"Uh, you sure..."

She lightly wiped her hand down her dress, then grabbed his and tugged, "Yeah, come on, before Jason knows you're here."

A breeze played with the lace curtains in Sarah's room, green walls cool and hidden from the sunlight and the bustle of the party. She left the door ajar in the event anyone came upstairs, hearing their murmurs from within and getting nosy. Open door = nothing's going on, hence, go away.

She waved her hand towards the edge of her bed, "Sit." He did so, and she sat next to him, the hem of her dress creeping up her smooth, tanned knees. She took a deep breath, "So..."

Tristán tilted his head, "Yes?"

"So, I'm going away to college next week."

Tristán smiled warmly, "Yep, going away to college. Good luck. Me, back to work. Busiest time of the year."

"Yes, I'm glad you were able to stop by, though."

"And...is that what you wanted to talk about?" He absently pushed his cuffs higher up his bronze forearms.

She glanced at his strong hands while her fingertip drew curves on the bedspread, "No. I wanted to ask you something."

"Uh, okay?"

"Tristán," She paused. "I'm nervous about going to school."

"Why? You're smart. You'll do fine," he playfully cuffed her chin.

She took another deep breath, "Well, it's not that..."

"No?"

She stopped tinkering with the bedspread and looked at him, "I'm still a virgin."

Tristán straightened, "Oh?"

Another moment passed, her heart beating so hard it hurt, "Tristán, I want you to be the first."

Deer in the headlights, then he chuckled and buried his face in his hand, "Oh Lord, Sarah...," he shook his head, "that's a big deal. I...I'm flattered you chose me, but why?"

She leaned towards him and placed a slender hand on his thigh, "Because I've waited long enough. You're kind, and respectful, and you always treated me so nicely. You've been a good friend to my brother, and...," she sat back.

"Yes?"

"And you're in my dreams every night, ever since I met you, that day you came into the kitchen with Jason. You wore that red and black checkered shirt..."

"Oh no, that one?"

"Yeah, that one," Sarah laughed, "and you tipped over a glass of water and I handed you a dishcloth."

Tristán stared at her, "You remember all that?"

"Every night," she scooched closer and lowered her voice, "every night I see your face above mine, feel your heat, imagine your body pressing into mine," her fingertip traced up his arm, "I'm eighteen now, safe-zone, you know? And I really do want my first time to be with you. I won't expect you to have a relationship with me, and I won't get psycho on you, okay?" She smiled, watching his expression. "I know this is a strange request, and I know it's awkward because you're friends with my brother. I don't want to get in the way of that, but Tristán, I'm afraid to wait forever and I know you. I want to know what it's like. And it is important, the first time."

Tristán sat quietly, folding and unfolding his hands, watching them as he did so. Finally, he said, "Sarah, the first time hurts," he looked at her, "you probably know that."

"Yes, I know," her eyes grew wide, anticipating 'no'.

He took another breath, "I just don't know if I can do that to you, you know, hurt you."

"Well, I know it hurts a little, and I'm not expecting earth-shattering orgasms," she smiled weakly, yet hoping for traction.

"I...," elbows on his knees, he lay his forehead on his hand, "I don't know if I can do it."

Her face fell, "Listen, it's okay if you don't like me. I understand."

"No, it's not that. I like you fine, and most guys would love to be in my shoes, but listen, some years ago, some stuff happened to me, and I just don't think I can do what you want." He looked at her from beneath his brow.

Her hand went to her mouth, "Oh, I'm so sorry. It...it doesn't work?"

He smirked, "No, not that. It works. I got into it with some guys years ago, you know, got into a fight. They didn't forget it and jumped me one day." Tristán sat upright, "They cornered me in an alley, and," he took a deep breath, "well, did things to me." He watched her eyes as they flickered, tearing up, struggling to meet his gaze.

"Oh," she murmured, "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

He reached out and stroked her hair, "Hey, there's no way you could know that. Happened in another state, years ago. Even Jason doesn't know. And I mean, hey, I've had a few girlfriends since. I'm not broken, but I don't know about being someone's first."

She wiped a tear with the back of her hand, "I guess I wouldn't even have said any of that stuff if I'd known. So, have you told anyone?"

"Yeah, my parents know. They wanted to press charges, but those guys disappeared. I didn't want to go through with that anyway. We moved, I saw someone for a while. I dunno, I just keep busy with work. I know what they did was wrong, and I don't blame myself."

"But it must affect you."

"Yeah, makes me want to shut up and box and work out so it don't happen again."

She looked at him, quietly for a moment, then, "Okay. I won't press. But please, if you do ever want to talk, you can talk to me. I know I'm younger and maybe you really don't know me all that well, but you know I care about you and I always liked you, so please use me." Her fingertips went to her lips again, "Well, you know what I mean."

He smiled, "Yes, thank you." He kissed her gently on the forehead, "You deserve the best, cara mia." He stood, brushed her hair once more, and went away.

Sarah sat, looking to the ceiling to keep the tears from streaming down her cheeks. With a sickness in her stomach, she brushed her hair, dabbed her eyes, and returned to the party. Tristán had already bid good bye and thank you to Jason and his parents, and was not there.

The Best had left the building.

***

Boxes, clothes, paperwork, flurries in her stomach. Sometimes she felt calm about going away, sometimes queasy. The university was only five hours away, not that far, but still. Being a legal adult and a real adult were two different things. She knew how to pay a bill and drive a car and make phone calls, but nonetheless, even with a curriculum lined up and a room in a house with three other nursing students, she felt on the verge of drifting, of coming apart.

Mom and Dad were at work. So was Jason. All day. Only a week before departure. Wandering downstairs in a sheer white summer robe, she told herself to enjoy the calm, cool quiet of the empty house. But every thought returned to Tristán, the shocking secret he shared, and the embarrassment of her plea. And all that returned to the same thing; she still wanted him.

Thrumming her fingers on the arm of a living room chair, she gazed at Ghost; thin, arthritic and staring at her from beneath the sofa. She wanted to contact Tristán just one more time. She didn't have his number, and couldn't ask Jason for it. She didn't know where he lived. Ghost shuddered, then Sarah recalled an old conversation between him and her mother, 'Yes ma'am, I work for C&C HVAC.'

Worth a shot. C&C HVAC popped right up on her phone browser. She paused, then with a shaky hand, hit the number.

"Oh Lord, please don't pick up, please don't..."

"C&C HVAC," barked a woman.

"Uh, oh, hi, um, my name is Sarah, and our air conditioning has conked out..."

"Yep, 'tis the season. Lemme see what I can..."

"Uh, do you have a Tristán Ventura that works for you?"

"Tristán? Yeah, sure, lemme see if...," Sarah heard the woman clicking away, then she said, "Ma'am, you're in luck. Someone cancelled this morning. Tristán's got a 1:00 opening or thereabouts. You want it?"

"Yes!" Sarah nearly jumped, "Uh, yes, please." She recited the address, hung up, and paced for the next two hours, sweeping and mopping the kitchen floor in between, for variety.

1:30. A knock at the door. The floor of her guts nearly dropped, but she wiped her hands on the dishtowel, straightened, then remembered something. She sprinted to her room, retrieved the item, and slowed down a few steps before she answered the door.

Tristán stood with a smile, a little sweaty in the hot afternoon. He raised a brow, "Trouble?"

Sarah opened the door and let him in. He strode through the hallway into the kitchen, dressed in blue work trousers and white uniform button down that stretched across his broad shoulders. Light smudges of dirt laced the tops of his hands, and he carried a heavy tool bag. "Huh, feels cool in here, Sarah," he cocked his head. He walked further, then stopped and turned. Sunlight from a window behind Sarah created a silhouette through her robe.

"Uh, Sarah, where are your parents?"

"Work."

Tristán sighed, and slowly let the tool bag slip to the floor, "And Jason? He at work, too?"

Sarah nodded, biting her lip and leaning into the counter, the diaphanous robe riding her curves.

Tristán hung his head, then shook it and chuckled, "Okay, Sarah?" He looked at her, "Is there anything wrong with the air conditioning?"

She looked him in the eye and stepped closer, "Yes. It's too hot in here." She took another step, then placed his hand on her chest, "Feel. I'm too hot," another step, her other hand slipped over him, "and I don't care about your hangups, about me, I mean."

She pressed herself to him as his hand drifted over her breast, brushing her pink nipple until it hardened under the robe. She shivered, "I'm sorry about what happened to you, but it hasn't changed my mind." Her fingers fiddled with the button of his shirt, "You're still the one. I called you. Now service me."

"But..."

She put a finger to his lips and shook her head.

He caved. Breathing harder, his hands fell to her waist as he watched Sarah unbutton, then pull out his shirt, painfully slow, until it hung slack like her robe with her soft, pale breasts peeking through.

"You're handy," she whispered, "do whatever you have to."

With a stuttering breath, he took her hand and stepped back, to guide her upstairs.

"No, here," she pointed to the floor. "Right here, now, before you change your mind."

She hooked her finger over the front of his pants, deftly undoing the button and the zipper, freeing his hard-on, giving it air and space. She stroked it, her hand sliding deep into his pants. Tristán breathed hard through her hair and an unreal feeling came over Sarah; she was finally having her way with him.

She pulled his underwear up and over his cock, then got on her knees. He grabbed the counter, "No, Sarah, you don't have to...,"

"Mm, don't worry, I've done this before." His cock hovered an inch before her lips as she looked up, "But I was thinking about you every time."

No cute pecks or tongue tickles. Her lips passed over his head and she swallowed his cock as far as she could, sending him into a cramp, "Jesus, Sarah, easy!" He nearly touched the back of her throat as she plunged herself onto his shaft, rock-hard and throbbing. Tristán whimpered, cursed, fought the urge to grab her by the hair and shove his dick deeper down her throat. But she came up for air and grabbed his shirt, pulling him. Knees weak, he came down easily. She leaned back, the filmy robe slipping from her shoulders, her feet hooking him behind his knees.

"You sure, here on the floor?" Tristán panted.

Sarah nodded pulling back the rest of the robe, revealing the white lace panties riding over her virgin mound, "Here. Mount me here, fuck me."

"I don't have anything, though. I..."

Sarah lifted her backside, "Stick your hand down my ass, under my panties." He did so and grinned as his fingertips felt a foil corner, which he did not retrieve yet, but ran his hand over her cheek, digging his fingers into her crack and giving a squeeze. Sarah cried, "Oh, please, fingers in me, make me wet."

He dropped the condom next to her, then drew his fingers over her thigh, pulling aside the edge of her panties, exploring her smooth pussy.

Sarah moaned, then mustered the words, "Down there...got ready...don't know what you like..."

"Mm, I like you," he whispered in her ear, then pressed his fingertips into her lips, coaxing the moistness. She moved with his fingers, encouraging him to go deeper, "But not too deep, that's for, you know."

Tristán grinned, "Enough troubleshooting. I think I know what you need." He withdrew his fingers, sufficiently wet now, and hiked himself higher over her. With his hand behind her neck, he helped her lie on the floor as her legs went higher, her heels resting on his hips.

"Panties!" She said.

"Leave them." He grinned.

"Oh shit, rubber!"

"Oh, yeah, whoops!" He leaned back up, put on the condom, then resumed his position over her. Kissing her, then taking a breath, he asked, "You sure?"

"Yes." She could barely utter, heart like a bird in flight. His, too.

"Positive?"

"Yes already!" She cuffed his shoulder, then hugged him with her legs. Brushing aside the panties, he nuzzled against her until her lips spread, then pushed harder. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Try to relax, Sarah. I'll be as gentle as I can."

"Okay..."

He thrust hard and deep, ripping her open, forcing his blunt, throbbing cock into her tight cunt. She cried, digging her nails into his arms, arching her back and turning her face away, hoping he wouldn't see her contorted expression, "It hurts, please..."

"It's done, Sarah, it's okay. The worst is over," Tristán breathed hard, smoothing her hair, "I'll go easier now, slower." Indeed, he did slow down, moving in and out of her gently.

A few tears fell to the floor, and between gasps and smiles, she turned her face back to his. She turned her head to kiss him, "Thank you."

"Ah, the pleasure is mine, I'm sure," he moaned into her hair, "and please, yours, too."

"But if not, if not this time, you go ahead," she said. "I know it's not always the greatest for a woman the first time." She stroked his flexing back, then grabbed his ass and pulled him.

Eventually, Tristán came, although Sarah did not. She gripped him as he shuddered and plunged into her one last time, then he came and lay panting on top of her, "I don't know how you gonna pay this bill."

Sarah snorted and hugged him, "Well, I don't know what you're going to write on that invoice."

"Touché. I think I charge you a flat fee for a troubleshoot." He propped himself on his elbows, brushing a hair from her cheek, "So, cara mia, what did you think?"

She gazed at him, "I think I made the right choice. Don't you?"

He smiled, "Yes." Then he sighed, "I'm gonna miss you."

"Don't. Call me. Keep in touch. I'll be home for holidays with nothing to do, and too busy at school to do anyone else," she grinned, then looked into his eyes again, "but really, I do like you, Tristán. I'm game for more than just this, if you are, too."

He softened, nearly falling out. With a sigh, Tristán got up, carefully removed the rubber and wrapped it in a paper towel from his tool bag, then folded another towel and tucked it inside her panties. "You'll be far away. You're gonna meet a lot of people."

"I know, and I'm not holding you or me to anything. I just want to make sure you know how I feel."

Tristán held out his hand and helped her up. Wrapping the robe around her, he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close, "I like the sound of that, but let's take it day-by-day." He nestled his forehead against hers, "You know, you were my first first, and it wasn't so bad, but how do you feel?"

"Tired. Excited. Relieved. And sore, but in a good way," she nestled back, buttoning his shirt and tucking in the tails. He hiked his pants higher and she helped with the zipper. He did the button.

"So," she trailed her finger down his buttoned shirt, "how do we wrap this up?"

He didn't bill her. "I'll just tell C&C that a switch was flipped or something. Not enough to charge for. But that was a tricky thing you did."

"Well, it worked."

"Yeah, and now, back to work," he kissed her gently, but her tongue teased him, coaxing him into a real kiss, making it even harder to go. But he had to. They exchanged phone numbers, more kisses, then Sarah walked him to the door. She smiled faintly as her fingertips left his shoulder. They did not say good bye.