Sex Education Ch. 04

I nod.

Mim allows me to examine her. As her arms move above her shoulders, her breasts bob in reaction. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that as a man I love women's breasts. Mim's are works of art. Full, but not huge, they set on her chest like two sculpted mounds. With an apple shape, each breast sways back and forth. Her nipples look delicate and delectable. I could watch them hours on end.

"Some say it's not polite to stare," says Mim with a wry smile.

"Some are not looking at what I am," I respond.

"But you've seen me naked already."

"Something I don't think I can overindulge in."

My eyes move down her body. Mim is fit without the six-pack abs that seem to be in fashion these days. Her tummy is flat and firm, but also soft and inviting. Her bellybutton is a delicate indent in the smooth skin. My glance stops at the neat rectangle of blond. She stands with her feet slightly apart and this allows light to shine through the tops of her thighs. I can make out the shape of her lips. I am at a loss as to which part of me wants to be there more—tongue or cock.

Mim turns off the dryer and drops it and her brush on a chair. She runs her hands through her hair giving it some body.

"Should we dress for dinner?"

"Spoilsport," I reply.

Mim pulls out a pair of yellow bikini bottoms from her bag and slips them on. I realize I've seen her nude and taking off her robe, but I never knew anything about her intimate apparel. She next pulls on a beige, silk camisole. She tops this with a light green sweater and adds dark grey wool slacks. Pulling on knee-highs, Mim looks at me questioningly.

"I don't think a towel is appropriate wear for the restaurant."

"I appear to be experiencing a manly reaction to looking at a naked woman."

Mim chuckles and looks at the tent in my towel.

"Well, you'll just have to deal with it. As we Brits like to say, 'Keep a stiff upper dick.'"

"I thought that was 'lip'?"

"Have to adapt to the circumstances."

I stand and let the towel drop away.

"Ah, my old friend," she says looking at my erection. "Good to see you again."

She turns and enters the bathroom to fuss with her make-up.

I quickly pull on boxers, a soft blue shirt, gray slacks and a blue blazer. I run a brush through my hair. Mim has rejoined me in the bedroom. She smells great.

She slips her arm into mine and we head down to the restaurant.

Dinner is superb and we enjoy it with a couple choices from the impressive wine list. We share a dessert. The combination of wine, food and the cozy fireplace mellows us out. Back in the sitting room, I pour two nightcaps and we go to our room.

"Mac, that was a delightful dinner. Thank you."

I tell her it's my pleasure as I kick off my shoes. I start the gas fire and we each take a chair on either side of the hearth. With our drinks in hand we settle in and enjoy the warmth.

"Have you talked with Dede?" asks Mim.

"We texted before she left for Aruba. I guess we'll get in touch when she returns."

Mim nods.

"Maybe you wish she here were with you. You could make good use of that huge bed."

"I'm happy to be here with you. I enjoyed today a lot."

Mim raises her tumbler to me.

"Which brings up an interesting subject," I say. "What are we going to do about sleeping?"

"I thought we'd close our eyes and let nature take over," replies Mim.

"In the same bed?"

"I see no other."

"I was afraid you might find it awkward."

"Are you going to attack me?"

"Of course not."

"Then, I see no awkwardness."

"I usually sleep nude."

"How quaint," she says smiling. "I wear a comfy nighty."

I offer her first use of the bathroom. When she emerges, Mim is wearing a flannel nightgown similar to what I had seen her in at Dede's.

I use the facilities. Coming out I find Mim propped up in bed. I am wearing my boxers.

Standing alongside the bed I say, "I think I'll keep these on."

"Suit yourself."

I cross to the windows and open one a crack. The chilly night sea air seeps in.

"Do you mind?" I ask.

"On the contrary, I love the smell of the ocean."

I crawl in and settle against the oversized pillows.

"Want to keep the fire going?"

"Please," she says. "I'm enjoying it."

We turn off the bedside lamps and slide down under the covers.

"I know this is not a date, Mim, but I am having a great time."

"Me, too."

I move my hand and find hers. We intertwine our fingers.

"Would it be too provocative if we had a bit of a snuggle?" she asks.

I open my arms and Mim lays her head on my chest and pulls her body next to mine.

"Mmm, this is nice," she coos. "It's been a while since I've been held."

"Care to expound on that?"

"Not really, sorry."

"Ok."

I rub her back through her nightgown. Mim makes small noises of contentment.

"Mac, have you considered what Dede mentioned about Ruthann?"

My mind races with all possible answers. I was still not sure that introducing 19 year-old Ruthann to sex was something that I should do, no matter how pleasurable it would be. I considered what such an experience would do to my relationship to her mother. Actually, I was not sure Dede and I had a relationship. We had one night of great sex, but have not reconnected since then. And, I wondered what Mim would think of such a relationship. Maybe I should not even consider what she thought since she made it clear we would not have an intimate relationship. Of course, I'm thinking all this while she lies in my arms in a romantic inn.

"Still among the living, Mac?"

"Yeah," I manage to say.

"So?"

"Let's just say I'm not sure and am deeply conflicted."

"You must be leaning in one direction," she probes.

"God, Mim, I don't know. I also feel uncomfortable talking with you about it. It doesn't seem proper."

"Is it just the propriety that is bothering you?"

"What do you mean?"

Mim rests her hand on my bare chest. "Are you concerned what I would think about you and Ruthann?"

"Of course not," I lamely protest. "We've agreed that we are not going to have a romantic relationship."

"Liar," she says softly.

"What?"

"We both know you want to have me."

She pauses and adds in a whisper, "And, I want you."

My mind goes numb. Did she say that she wants me?

"But, you keep saying..."

"Yes, I know. We cannot date. And, just to be clear I mean that we cannot have sex, we cannot become a couple, we cannot go beyond friendship. Yes, I mean all that. But, that doesn't mean I don't crave to take you inside me."

"Well, why can't..."

I hear a catch in her throat and she says, "Because I cannot allow it. I know that begs for an explanation. I wouldn't blame you for hating me, but I just can't discuss it at this time."

I kiss the top of her head, deeply inhaling the scent from her hair.

"I should not be here with you in this bed. I definitely should not be in your arms. I know this is terribly unfair and I must seem the ultimate cock tease."

"Then, why?" I ask.

Mim turns her head so we are face to face.

"Because I want you to hold me. I am weak, Mac. I could so easily let myself go. Since I can't, I am selfishly taking the next best thing. I'm being a bitch."

I move to kiss her lips, but Mim turns her face back to my chest.

We lie together in silence for a long time. I know I should be angry and feel like I'm being led on, but the joy of holding Mim close overcomes everything else.

"So," she says, "I want you to know that I think you should initiate Ruthann. She is ready, Mac, she really is. You would make a wonderful teacher."

"How do you know that?"

Mim again kisses my chest, her lips gently caressing my nipple. "You are patient and kind. Those are two qualities that are most important with an inexperienced girl. You are also a good lover."

I react as she runs her hand along my stomach.

"Dede has told me about your night together. She told me it was the best sex she ever had. Not only the physical part, but also the fun you two enjoyed made her appreciate being with you. She really wants you to be with Ruthann."

The three women I am most attracted to all want the same thing. Why am I even questioning what I should do?

"How about I sleep on it," I finally say.

I feel Mim's head nodding against my chest. As we lie in silence, I feel her relax and soon her breathing is deep and slow. I let myself drift to sleep, amazed that this woman is in my arms.

Morning intrudes and I find Mim on her side with her backside pushed into my groin. My hand rests on her tummy.

I ease myself away and trot to the bathroom. I take care of business and brush my teeth after throwing some water in my face.

Returning to the bed I find Mim on her stomach with her arm stretched out on my side.

I start to climb in.

"Ooh, so it was not a dream," she says. "I really did have you next to me all night."

She lifts her arm and I settle in. She drops it back over my chest, her fingers grazing my nipple.

We doze for a short while. Mim stirs and announces she's going to shower.

I turn off the fire that had been going all night. I look outside to see a dusting of snow covering the ground. I pull on some clothes and go down to see if I can find coffee.

I return with two cups to find Mim standing in her underwear and packing her bag.

"I can smell it from here. You're a dear, Mac."

Mim takes the cup and sips the rich, dark coffee.

I carry my cup into the bath and take a shower. After dressing, we carry our bags downstairs and go into the small dining room for breakfast. We enjoy our food and then I pay our bill.

Mim and I stow our bags in the Rover, after we brush off the snow. I offer to drive and Mim does not object. We head back to Barton Hills.

We are comfortable riding in silence. Mim rests her head against the window and nods off. She wakens as we hit some stop and go traffic on the interstate.

"Sorry," she says, "hope I wasn't drooling or snoring or something."

"You slept like a little girl."

"Is that good or bad?"

I look at her as she stares at me. The sun catches her green eyes. I have to pull my gaze back to the road.

"All good, Mim," I say. "All good."

She pats my thigh and lets her hand rest there. I know with many women that would be a sexual gesture, but I sense with Mim it is just affirming a trust between us.

"So," I finally say, "we had a great time?"

"The best."

"You enjoyed yourself?"

"Every minute."

"And, it wasn't a date?"

She pauses and slips her hand off my leg.

"No, Mac, it wasn't."

One part of my brain says to drop the subject, while another part craves an explanation.

"Mim, I had a great time, too. But, help me out. We slept in the same bed. Dressed and undressed in front of each other. Hell, I fed you chocolates while you were in the tub. How is that not a date? And, if it isn't what the hell was it?"

Mim looks out her window for a long time. I steal a couple peeks, but mostly pay attention to the traffic.

"Mac, I told you it's complicated."

"Yeah, I get complicated. But, what's going on between us?"

She slips her hand back on my leg and squeezes.

"I enjoy being with you. I have fun with you. I'm relaxed with you. But, I can't get romantically involved."

"Jesus, Mim, why not. You want to. I think you like me a lot, and not just as a friend."

"I do like you, Mac. But, I will not allow it to become sexual."

"We slept together."

"We slept in the same bed. We slept in each other's arms. We did not make love."

"Well, I sure wanted to."

Mim remains silent.

"I think you did, too."

Mim keeps her silence. I sneak a glance and think I see a tear in the corner of her eye.

"Hey, I don't mean to upset you," I say.

She rubs the tear away and looks at me.

"Mac, I'm really sorry. I thought I could keep this relationship at a certain level. When I stood naked in front of you last night, I think I was trying to convince myself that it was no big deal. We had posed naked together, so what difference did it make. But, I was kidding myself. I was exposing myself to you in a romantic inn with a wonderful bed a few steps away. I know what sort of signal I must have been sending. Then, snuggling you in bed was another signal."

Mim took a deep breath.

"Yes, as a woman I wanted you. I wanted you to take me, make love to me. I wanted you deep inside me. I wanted you to make me cum and cum. But, I cannot do that. I thought that being close might be enough for us. Now I realize that is cruel. I don't mean to be a tease, but I fear that's what I've become. Please forgive me."

"For god's sake, Mim, There's no need for forgiveness. We're two adults who are attracted to each other. That's a good thing. What is it that holds you back?"

More tears flow down her cheek. She tries to keep it in check, but in a moment she is sobbing.

After more than a few miles of travel, she takes a deep breath and gains some control.

"Mac, what I have to say is terribly unfair. I am in the midst of something and I must work through it. I'll say no more on my situation. I also will understand if you never want to see me again. You are a special man. You don't need some hopelessly fucked-up girl."

"Mim, if I thought there was any hope that you and I could move past whatever is blocking you, I would gladly wait, and wait some more."

"Mac, I can't promise that now. All I can say is that I think some things are moving. I would desperately hope you and I could move forward, but I cannot promise. In fact, I fear it will never happen. I will not ask you to wait."

I put my hand on top of hers as it rests on my thigh. I hold it tightly, then raise it to my lips.

"Ok, Mim. No more pressure. Let's just let it go. Besides, I want you to enjoy a stress-free Christmas."

"No nude prancing about?" she adds trying to sound lighthearted.

"'fraid not," I say with a smile. "My aunt is a bit conservative that way."

"I'll see if I can dig out a nun's habit."

"No need to go that far," I say. "As a matter of fact, you can even show a daring bit of a leg."

"Ooh, I'm excited already."

We enjoy each other's company for the rest of the ride, talking about cars and travel.

In spite of the easy conversation, a dark thought rests deep in my mind. What can be troubling Mim to this extent?

The few days before Christmas fly by. We wind down business at the garage and I close for Christmas Eve and will keep it closed on the day after. Since that day is Friday, we all will enjoy a five day break.

I decide to stay at my aunt's on Christmas Eve. She, Sam and I enjoy our traditional lasagna dinner and pour over the family photo albums.

The next day I'm sipping my coffee in the kitchen when the doorbell rings. Sam and my aunt are off to the Christmas church service, so I answer the door. I recognize Hawkins, the head of maintenance at Barton Hills Academy.

"Sorry to bother you, sir," he says.

"No bother. Merry Christmas. Will you come in?"

"Thanks, but I have to get back to my family. I just came by to deliver this."

He hands me a letter. I recognize Mim's handwriting on the envelope.

"Where is Ms. Collins?"

"Uh, well, I guess she won't be coming. I suppose the letter will explain it"

"Why? Did something happen to her? Is she all right?"

"Yeah," he says. "I don't know anything except I took her to the airport early this morning. She asked me and I'm always happy to help her out. She's a special person, you know. I went by your house, but obviously you weren't there. Ms. Collins said you were having dinner at your aunt's. I've known Sadie since we were kids, so I knew the address."

I nod. He says good-bye and heads back to his car.

I return to the kitchen and open the letter. My heart sinks as I read.

Dear Mac,

I know you will now realize what a terrible person I am.

I will not be joining you today. I am off to home in Scotland. I must be there now.

I deeply regret I shall not share this holiday with you, Sam and your aunt. Please convey my sincere regrets and profound apologies.

Mac, I am dealing with some personal issues. I know I have been unconscionably circumspect about my situation, but I feel I had no choice. I cannot say when or if I will return. As some small consolation, I have asked Dede to answer your many questions. She is aware of my situation and I trust she will be completely forthright. I have spoken to her and she is aware I am leaving.

You may think this is the coward's way out, but I had to leave immediately. I could not bear to hear your voice, so I am absolutely taking the coward's way out through this letter. I pray that someday I may see you and we can have the full conversation that you deserve. You have been a brightness in my life that I do not deserve. I thank you for your friendship.

With all my heart, I wish you well.

Mim

I read the letter two more times. With each reading, my stomach tightens. What could possibly be so important for her to just run off? Where could she have gone? Have I completely misread her?

I resist calling Dede right away. I will have to wait until she comes home. I know I'll be in turmoil until then.

"Merry Fucking Christmas," I say to myself.

Sam, Crystal and my aunt try to cheer me up. For my part I try not to mope too badly. In the end we enjoy a great Christmas dinner. I stay until nine and then head back to my house.

The weather has turned and a major snowstorm is enveloping our town. Finally making it home, I pull my truck into the garage and head to my house. The dark interior matches my mood. I turn on low lights and sit in the near darkness sipping scotch until I pass out on the notably uncomfortable couch.

I spend the day after Christmas at the shop pouring over year-end paperwork. I have dinner alone at the local pub and head home for another pity party of one.

I'm still in bed on Sunday, when my phone buzzes. I see a text from Dede. She tells me they've landed in New York and will be home by late in the afternoon. She invites me to supper and to stay over.

I text her my acceptance and wonder if the invitation includes sharing her bed. Or, her daughter's?

I arrive at Dede's around five after a trip that doubled in time because of the two feet of snow that has fallen. She answers the door and kisses me warmly.

"Come in, Mac. It's good to see you."

She leads me to the family room where several people are gathered.

Ruthann rushes over and gives me a big hug. I look over her shoulder and see Chrissy and a remarkably attractive woman. She looks vaguely familiar, but I can't place her.

Ruthann slips her arm through mine and escorts me to the big couch facing the fireplace. The wood is crackling as it warms the air in the large room.

Chrissy hugs me and says, "Mac, this is my mom, Jocelyn Armbruster."

A little bell of recognition goes off in my brain. I know that Chrissy's last name is Castello. But Jocelyn Armbruster is so familiar. Her mom extends her hand and we shake. I look into her crystal blue eyes that sit above the pronounced cheekbones and pouty mouth. Then it hits me.

"Oh, you're..."

"Chrissy's mom," she says with a smile.

"Yeah, but you're..."

"Oh, the 'buts'" she says. "Sometimes, Mac, if I may call you that, I am most happy just being Chrissy's mom."

I nod. Jocelyn Armbruster is publisher of Tres Chic. Along with Vogue it is the most influential fashion magazine in the country. Jocelyn is often contrasted to the editor of Vogue and is known as the "nice one." I recall a bit of her background that is part of the steady stream of celebrity news that permeates both television and the internet.

Jocelyn was a top runway model, making every major cover while earning millions. She had a falling out with the Vogue editor—known as being not so nice, who promised that Jocelyn would never work again. Jocelyn proved her wrong and had another incredible three years at the top. As she approached thirty, she knew the end was near. Her husband convinced her that she knew more about fashion, models, designers and what women want than anyone. He offered to back her to start her own magazine. She agreed but first decided to have a baby, Chrissy. She recovered her figure and began a new and highly successful career.