Seeing Sophie

"Thanks for bringing us home. I know it's a pain." She said quietly.

"No problem, really."

She unlocked her door and walked inside, looking over her shoulder at him before saying, "Are you coming?"

He hesitated, recognizing her invitation for what it was. His first thought was of Sophie, and he shook his head at himself. He had really liked Sophie, still really liked her, but one date certainly didn't equal a commitment, and they hadn't even slept together. He had no reason to be thinking of her now as he gazed after Alicia. Besides, it'd been months since his divorce, months since he'd had sex with anyone, and years since he'd had sex with anyone but his ex-wife. There was no way he could he walk away from the opportunity, so he followed her inside, and he shut the door behind him.

Alicia walked through her living room and down the hall toward the back of her house. As Marcus continued to follow her, he was reminded of following Sophie down her hall the night before. He shook his head at himself, willing himself to be in the moment and enjoy the night with Alicia. At her bedroom door Marcus paused, watching as Alicia began to undress. She hadn't looked at him since inviting him in and was simply removing her clothing, tossing each piece aside. Her breasts were high and firm, and perfectly round; a dim part of his mind knew that such perfection had to have been purchased, but seeing her toned and tan body in all its glory, Marcus didn't much care whether they were natural or not. He crossed the room to her, and only then did Alicia look at him.

"You're overdressed," she said, reclining across her bed and watching him, almost passively. He wondered what she was thinking, what had happened to foreplay, but looking down at her very naked body, he decided not to worry about it.

Marcus removed his clothes and his mind disengaged again. Why was she just laying there? Did this seem almost too cold?

He climbed onto the bed and leaned over her until his face was just inches from hers. Alicia's eyes seemed mildly interested, almost amused, but there was no spark, no passion. He wondered briefly why she had invited him in. Rather than asking, Marcus leaned down further and kissed her softly; she kissed him back, wrapping her arms

around his neck and pulling him down toward her. The memory of feeling Sophie's body against his flashed into his mind. Pushing it aside, he tried to focus on Alicia, but he could sense that her embrace was not as much from desire as from practice.

His body, however, didn't care. Marcus' mouth roamed down her neck and to her breasts, to her small pink nipples, down her taut stomach and eventually between her thighs. Alicia moaned appropriately then, when his tongue caressed her clit and his fingers pushed into her. Marcus loved the smell and taste of a woman's sex, but he was distracted from enjoying it fully by Alicia's response to him. While she moaned occasionally and stroked her fingers across his face and hair, her body didn't react to the stimulation of his tongue. After several minutes of intense focus on her clitoris, Marcus felt her tug at his face, pulling him up from between her thighs. "Come here," she said. "Fuck me."

Marcus rolled to his side as Alicia sat up and reached into her night stand for a condom, which she handed him before laying back again on the bed. He watched her as he rolled the condom on, his attention split between how gorgeous her body was and how nearly indifferent she seemed to be of his presence. Marcus moved between her legs, sliding his cock slowly inside her. Alicia adjusted her legs to give him room to move, and put her hands on his ass, but looking down at her, Marcus was struck by the almost distant expression on her face: she seemed to be in an entirely different place.

"Alicia?" he finally said, pulling out of her.

"Hmmm?" she murmured. He wondered if maybe she was more drunk than he'd thought.

"Alicia?" She finally looked up at him then.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I don't think I can do this." She seemed surprised, and a little hurt. He decided rather than being honest that her obvious disinterest was too much of a turn-off, he'd blame himself. "I guess I'm just not ready, you know, because of the divorce. And I don't want to take advantage of you when you've been drinking. I feel like an ass."

She looked at him, confused. "Are you sure? You were doing just fine a minute ago."

"Yeah, I better go."

"Well, okay. Call me if you ever change your mind."

"Sure," he told her. As quickly as he could, without seeming rude, Marcus gathered his clothes and got dressed. He hadn't lied to her that he felt like an ass because he did; but it wasn't for the reason he'd told her: he felt like an ass for being with her in the first place, when what he really wanted was to be with Sophie.

* * *

Why didn't I sleep with him, I asked myself, yet again, as I parked my car the following Monday after school. I knew why, really: I liked him and wanted more than one night of fun. Feeling that way and seeing a man as relationship potential, was a first for me since the divorce. And it scared me. Besides, I hadn't wanted him to think I was too easy, especially after he'd seen my work. I knew, though, that he'd been disappointed, and when he hadn't called the rest of the weekend, I had to wonder if he'd lost interest already. I hoped not, but if he had, I knew he wasn't for me.

I smiled when I saw him walking over to meet me; the expression on his face proved he hadn't lost interest after all. The depth of my relief surprised me. "Hi," I said when he stopped next to me.

"Hey! How've you been?"

"Good. I got a lot accomplished this weekend. How about you?"

"Did some work, finished some chores, had a nice date..."

I laughed. "Yes, me too."

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I am. Kids are at their dad's." I smiled up at him mischievously, hoping he'd understand the meaning behind my words. I watched as a slow grin crossed his face.

"Excellent. Friday night then?"

"Definitely."

"See you tomorrow," he said as he watched his son approach.

"Yes."

As he turned to walk away, I saw Alicia approach him, something I'd never seen her do before. I was surprised, but not particularly concerned. Still, I couldn't help overhearing part of their conversation as I continued to wait for my son.

"I had fun Saturday night," I heard her say.

I looked at him closer then and saw him smile down at her, just as he had smiled at me a few minutes before. "Yeah, me too."

"Thanks again for the ride, and for after." She laughed. "I'm sorry about what happened, though. Feeling any better?"

I walked away, shaking my head at what her words, and her laugh, implied. I knew I could be imagining it or over-reacting, but I also suspected I wasn't. I sighed and then put on a smile as my son walked toward me. We walked to the car, and I saw Marcus still talking to Alicia, without a second glance to me. So that's that, I thought. No competing there, and who wants to, really. I'm too old to play these games or to waste my time on men who play them, I told myself. But, still, I was disappointed.

* * *

Marcus had spent the bulk of his weekend thinking about Alicia and Sophie. It hadn't taken long before he realized his stupidity with both of them. While Alicia was beautiful, she didn't have much else to offer him; it would be a relationship of show, much like his marriage had been. Sophie, on the other hand, had a lot to offer- emotionally, sexually, and intellectually. He wanted her in bed, without question. But he also wanted to know her better.

When Alicia approached him after school on Monday, it didn't really occur to him how it would look to Sophie. In his mind, nearly sleeping with Alicia was a mistake, one he had already put aside, while Sophie was a mystery that continually pulled him in. There was no competition between the two of them in his mind, and he had no idea that Sophie could think there was. So, Marcus chatted politely with Alicia, but he also made it clear he didn't want a repeat of Saturday night. He saw Sophie leave while he talked to Alicia, never realizing what she saw and heard and assumed.

All week Marcus looked forward to seeing Sophie, but no matter how much he looked for her, she was nowhere to be found all week. By Thursday, he was worried, but because she hadn't thought to give him her unlisted phone number, he had no way to call and check on her. He considered stopping by her house, but decided to wait until their date on Friday evening.

* * *

I let my oldest take the bus the rest of the week; he'd been nagging to do it anyway, and it seemed just as well for me. I could live with being a runner up to Alicia, but I didn't want to play games or compete for attention. And honestly, I didn't feel like getting hurt anymore than necessary. So I spent extra hours in my studio, painting late at night while the kids were asleep.

After the kids left for their dad's, the house felt strangely silent and empty. I turned my stereo up, the Indigo Girls pouring out from the speakers, and I went to my studio to finish the painting of the Invisible Woman. Of me.

I didn't hear the knock on the door. In fact, I was so absorbed in capturing the woman's face that I didn't hear anything at all except the music until Marcus' voice echoed out behind me.

* * *

He stood watching her for several minutes, watching the tension of her back as she concentrated on capturing whatever it was she had in her mind. Papers fluttered on the desk beside the door and he bent to stack them under a paperweight. The top page grabbed his attention and he read:

I watch you walk by
your eyes locked
on the ass of someone
who will never notice
anyone but herself.

you don't see me.
I am the invisible woman,
disguised behind a toddler's snug hug.
I am the woman no one sees-

and yet, I am the woman
of fantasies
who likes the way a cock
feels in her mouth,
who likes to get on her knees,
who likes to be tied to the bed.
I am the woman
full of appetites and passions
who likes to bite and lick and suck,
who likes to be bent over and fucked.

How sad that
all my passion
is so easily hidden
behind the face of a mother,
that it is so easy
to become invisible.

Slowly, Marcus realized that the poem was about him, about Alicia, but most of all about Sophie. And he understood, with a sudden clarity that frightened him, how she saw herself, how she must have seen the situation on Monday, why she had disappeared all week. Marcus hadn't known he could care about a woman so much so quickly or that he could hurt someone so inadvertently. What he did know was that he had to fix it.

"Sophie," he called.

She jumped, dropping her brush on the floor, her voice caught in a half scream.

"What in the hell are you doing in my house?"

"I'm sorry I scared you. I knocked and I heard the music, so I knew you were home. I let myself in."

"You really had no right to do that," she said abruptly, bending down to pick up the brush. Seeing her bent over, he was reminded of her poem.

"I wanted to tell you something."

"Say it and go. I'm working."

"Sophie," he said, hoping she'd turn and look at him. When she didn't, he sighed, knowing he'd done more damage than he thought. "You shouldn't feel threatened by Alicia."

"I don't."

"Good," he said. "Because she's nothing compared to you."

"I know that," she said. "But it doesn't look like you do."

"Sophie," he said quietly.

She paused her brush stroke, which he took it as a good sign, so he continued, "It's easy to only see the outside of someone. But, damn, Sophie, you've got it all. You're attractive and funny and smart and creative. And even though I don't know first hand, I suspect, you're a helluva good time in bed."

She laughed, and turned toward him. "You and Alicia...?"

He was uncomfortable, but he knew he had to be honest. "I ran into her Saturday night, she had too much to drink so I took her home. I went in and we started to have sex, but... it was terrible, and I hated it, and I kept thinking about how she didn't compare to you. So I stopped. And I left."

Sophie looked him for a long time. "I've got no claim to you, Marcus. You can sleep with whoever you want."

"Oh really?" he said, his voice mischievous. He took a step toward her.

She gave him a stern look. "Get that look out of your eye, Marcus. You just told me you almost went to bed with Alicia; no way are you getting some from me now."

He laughed, "I also just told you how bad it was. Shouldn't that make up for it?"


"No. It just makes you dumb for being with her in the first place."

"That's true. I can't deny it."

"I don't look nearly as good as her naked."

"Honey, I bet you're more woman than she could ever be. She doesn't know how to have fun naked. Besides, I think her boobs were fake."

Sophie rolled her eyes, "Not a surprise."

He stepped toward her again, certain that if he could just kiss her, he'd be able to convince her.

"Look," she said, her voice so serious his progress across the room halted, "I know what kind of woman I am. I like myself. But I don't want to be runner up or second best. I don't sleep around or sleep with people who sleep around. So, if you want Alicia or other women like her, don't bother me. If you want me, and only me, and want to see where this goes between us, then maybe we can talk about it."

"Damn woman. I can't think of anyone but you. And it's not just sex. I want to know what you eat for breakfast, what you're like when you're mad, what kind of ice cream you like, how you taste..." He stopped and looked at her, his eyes probing hers.

"Sophie," he said, his voice quiet. "C'mere."

* * *

I hesitated a moment, debating with myself about what I wanted to happen with him, whether I was ready to take the leap with him or not. I finally put my brush down and moved toward him. Something about him made me want to take the risk, made me feel like it would be worth it to try. He watched me, and in his eyes I saw relief.

"Do you know why I didn't sleep with you the other night?"

"No, but I sure as hell wondered."

"I liked you too much. I wanted more than one night."

"Okay," he said. "As many nights as you want."

I laughed, and stepped toward him, my body close enough to his so that I could feel the heat radiating from him. Marcus leaned down slowly, almost cautiously, and I waited, not giving into the urge to grab him and pull him toward me. Finally, his mouth touched mine and he felt...right. I felt right with him, and I wanted so much more.

Marcus pulled me closer to him, until my body was snug against him, and I lifted my hands to his head and twined my fingers in his hair, tugging his head, so that I could taste more of him. He slid his hands up my back, under my shirt, and I shivered at the light touch of his fingers. Marcus pulled his mouth from mine to lift the shirt over my head. His hands caressed my breasts and his eyes roamed my body, and he smiled. "Gorgeous," he whispered and his mouth found mine again, and we tasted each other, hesitantly at first and then with more urgency.

Marcus slid his hands back down to my waist and he pushed my pants down, until I stood in front of him completely naked. I tugged his shirt away from his jeans, finally getting it over his head, and then immediately started in on his zipper.

Finally, we were both naked, and I laughed, "Now, that's better."

His erection jutted out from his body, definitely an impressive sight. In the back of my mind I decided I'd paint him nude at the first opportunity. But first, I wanted to touch him. Marcus must have had the same idea because his fingers found my bare pussy and began a slow and gentle exploration.

"Very sexy," he said. "I can't wait to taste you."

I sighed and leaned against him. Pulling his head down to mine, I nipped his bottom lip. I wanted to taste him, too. "If you keep that up with your fingers, I'm going to come while we stand here."

He whispered against my mouth. "Good. There'll be plenty more."

And so I did; standing naked in my studio with Marcus, I let myself go and climaxed as his fingers lazily stroked and circled my clitoris. My body trembled, but Marcus held tight me tight. He smiled down at me, a smug and satisfied look on his face.

I wrapped my hand around his cock, and Marcus' smile froze. He groaned, and this time it was me with the smug smile, as I lowered myself to my knees in front of him. He looked down at me, his lust clear on his face. With my eyes still locked on his, I opened my mouth around his cock. I licked the precum off the tip, and humming in appreciation, I slid my mouth down his shaft, swallowing the length of him.

"God, woman," he moaned. Still watching his face, I began to fuck my mouth with his cock, my tongue caressing his shaft as I slipped back and forth, up and down.

"Sophie," he moaned again, "Please, Sophie. I need to be inside you."

Reluctantly, I opened my mouth and freed him. As soon as I did, he dropped to his knees in front of me and lunged for my mouth in a fierce kiss. Marcus wrapped his arms around me and toppled us both to the floor and I found myself straddling him.

"Clever," I laughed.

"Sophie," he whispered, his fingers stroking my face. I rose up over him and positioned my pussy over his cock. I slowly lowered myself, sliding down his length. His fingers trailed down my neck to my breasts. Marcus pinched my nipples between his fingers and then sat up enough to capture one nipple in his mouth. Marcus sucked greedily as I began to rock against him. Our pace was slow, as if we were memorizing every moment and every sensation. I knew we were both barely holding onto the edge of our control, but still we lingered over every movement.

Time passed, and still I rocked against him. Finally, Marcus began to thrust up against me, and I allowed him to speed our rhythm. Our moans mingled until the sounds were indistinct. I lowered my mouth to his, and we came together, crying out into each other's mouths as our bodies shattered.

* * *

Marcus watched Sophie as she drifted in and out of the dining room, bringing things to the table for breakfast. After their night together, they had both woken up starving and she'd set out to make a huge breakfast. Marcus didn't care about the food nearly as much as he was enjoying the way she moved. Wearing only a t-shirt, Sophie walked back and forth with no concern for her lack of clothing, with no thought of her mussed hair, which, incidentally, he had thoroughly enjoyed mussing. She was, he thought, a joy to watch.

When Sophie finally sat down with him at the table, she smiled at him. "Hope you're hungry."

"I am. It looks great."

"Thanks." She bit into a piece of crisp bacon, and he did the same.

"I have a question for you."

"Ask me anything," she said.

"That's a bold statement."

"You already know about my art. I have nothing to hide from you."

"In your poem, that one I read about you being invisible..."

"What about it?"

"Are those things true about you or was that just poetic talk?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like the sex part, were you really describing yourself?"

She laughed as she realized what he was asking. "You mean do I really like rough sex? Yes, that was all me."

He grinned. "I had hoped you would say that."

"Oh, really?" She laughed again. "Why is that?"

"Why do you think?" He laughed with her.

The conversation changed to children and plans for the weekend while they finished breakfast.

"I'll help you clean up," he told her when they were done eating.

"Thanks."

They cleared the table and set the dishes in the sink for later. Sophie leaned across the table to reach the last glass.

"Now this looks like a perfect opportunity," Marcus said as he stepped up behind her, his body pressing against hers.