Simple Choices

"We've got the Wild Bunch next weekend. I'll see you then."

Before I closed the car door, she said, "Hey..."

I paused and waited for her to say whatever it was she had to say.

"Take as long as you need to quench that fire in your gut. I'll be waiting."

I almost asked if that was a promise, but I thought better of it.

***

Over the course of the following days, I thought about Debbie constantly. As I did, I came to terms with the reality of our situation. I consciously resolved to let go of the past and do whatever it took to be happy. I tried to purge the bitter thoughts from my mind and focus on what I was doing at that instant. If I was working, I worked. If I was driving, I drove. I refused to let myself obsess about things I could no longer change. Unfortunately, there is a big difference between deciding to be happy and feeling happy.

***

Michelle, Stan, and Debbie were waiting in the shade by their cars with the Wild Bunch when I arrived. It was one of those sunny, early-spring days without a cloud in the sky. Kimberly and Kevin were giggling uncontrollably, but I was too distracted by Debbie's low-cut, half-length collared shirt and tight shorts to ask them why.

I shook Stan's hand, gave Michelle and kiss on the cheek and said to Debbie, "You look super hot."

She smiled and turned her shoulders from side to side in front of me. "Thanks. I was hoping you'd like my new look."

I replied, "It's a great look."

While we were talking Kevin snuck up behind Debbie. He jumped out and shouted, "Hey Buddy!"

I gave him five and asked, "Hey Buddy! Did you miss me?"

"I missed you a ton."

"Oh, I have trouble believing that. You had a real war hero with you for a whole day. A real war hero with a Bronze Star... with valor. That had to be the best. Wasn't it the best?"

Debbie touched my hand in that way that meant I should stop talking, and Kevin failed to respond, which confused me.

Kimberly said, "Jeff was a fuddy-duddy."

Charles chimed in. "The fuddiest-duddiest."

"What happened?" I asked.

Kevin answered, "He didn't want to talk about anything. All he did was tap, tap, tap on his phone."

With as much enthusiasm as I could muster I said, "Well, I know how to fix that!"

The Wild Bunch recognized the tone of my voice and broke into excited giggles as I crouched down to draw them into a huddle. Even Debbie, Stan and Michelle joined in.

"I think we should go where the scientists go to look for aliens. What do you think about that?"

The Wild Bunch went crazy, while Stan, Michelle, and Debbie smiled. We were going to Griffith Observatory anyway, why not make it exciting? I explained that scientists were going to be there, so we had to be super good: no talking in our outside voices and no giggling at all.

Kim and Kevin pursed their lips while trying not to giggle. I said, "We're going to see the stars in a planetarium, a big telescope and all kinds of space stuff. How about that?" While I talked, Debbie wove her fingers between mine as she smiled brightly.

***

After our day at the observatory and we'd dropped the Wild Bunch off at their home, I followed Debbie back to her apartment. I parked in my usual spot and joined her at the entrance to her complex. I was determined to grab this moment and enjoy my time with her despite the lingering doubt that stewed in my gut. I took her hand as she led me to her apartment.

"Hey, my chair is back."

"That other chair wasn't right for the room, so I sold it."

As I followed her into the kitchen, I noticed that the picture at the unknown resort was also gone. She poured a couple of glasses of wine but left them on the counter as she turned to wrap her arms around my waist. She asked, "How's that burning in your gut?" as she looked up into my eyes.

I shook my head. "It's worse."

"Worse?"

"Oh yeah, much worse, and it's moved from my gut down to my loins."

She smiled. "Oh, your loins are burning. That sounds biblical." Her hand circled from my back to rub my cock through my jeans. "I can help with that."

I shook my head, "No, I don't think you're the right person."

Her hand pressed hard into my rigid cock. "Oh, I know what a cock like this needs."

My mind had intended to jump back in where we were six months ago, but my gut wasn't quite ready. "That doesn't mean much these days. It's easy to find a woman who will throw herself at just about anybody. You know, with Tinder and all. I'm looking for more than that."

Her hands slid to my ass then pulled me tightly to her. "I'm not throwing my body at you; I'm throwing everything at you. My body, my heart, and my soul. I want you to have it all."

"I don't think you can give me everything, or at least I don't think you will."

She read my expression for a long moment while she thought. Eventually, she said, "Do you remember when you dropped me off at the airport, and you said that you would wait for me?"

"Yeah, you must have thought I was pathetic."

She shook her head, squeezed me and captured my gaze. "No. It made me think of something my father said when I was little. He said, 'Lots of people will tell you that they love you, but only a few will live their lives that way.' As you drove away, I wondered how you were going to live your life."

She paused to let me speak, but I didn't have anything to say. She touched my cheek and said, "Later I realized that I was thinking about it all wrong. You were already way ahead of me. Simply driving me to the airport was a loving act. Supporting my decision to go to Germany was a loving act. At every turn, you've supported me. In all that time I'd been so wrapped up in honoring my promise that I'd failed to consider how I was treating you. I had a vague feeling that something was wrong, but I was focused on all that army stuff, so it didn't register. It wasn't until dinner that night with Yvonne that I figured it out."

"You learned something from Yvonne?"

She shook her head. "Not directly. Our conversation that night made me think back to our last night together. Since this whole thing started, I'd refused to do the only thing you'd asked of me: to say those three small words."

"Yeah, that's just not your thing. In all the time we've been together, you've never said that you loved me."

"It was different that night. That night I didn't want to say the words because I didn't want to believe they were true."

"You knew it was true though, didn't you?"

She stared at me blankly.

"You can say it now. Go ahead, say that you love me."

Her expression shifted. By its change, I knew that I had crossed a line, but I didn't understand how or why.

She rubbed her crotch against mine, looked up at me and said, "You should be thinking about how you are going to get the blouse off of me and not some stupid words."

"That blouse looks damned good on you." I slid my hands to her side and began circling her nipples with my thumbs through the fabric as I tried to figure out why she was changing the subject.

"Don't you want to rip it off of me?"

"Oh, no. I won't be ripping anything off of you tonight. Tonight I'm going to be listening to the sound of three small words."

She pulled my body firmly to hers and said, "Oh really? You think that all I have to do on a night like this is repeat your three-word mantra?"

I laughed. "Do you have some other important plans?"

"Yes. I have something vital to do." She ground her pussy against my cock as she purred into my ear, "I'm going to have you feed me that big cock of yours."

I pressed my rigid penis against her grinding pussy while I massaged one of her breasts with my hands. I said, "I've missed you so much."

Her hands went to my waist, unbuckled my belt, burrowed into my underwear and began to stroke my dick. "Oh, baby. Your cock is hard tonight."

It could have easily just fucked her right then if I'd kept my big mouth shut, but I couldn't keep myself from asking for those three words one last time.

"Why are you asking me that? I'm practically throwing myself at you."

"I know, but it's easy to find someone to fuck. I want more from you. If you don't love me, just say it, and say it is simple terms without excuses and explanations so that I can understand it. I'd rather move on than linger in limbo."

She swallowed hard, looked into my eyes and said, "I..." She exhaled deeply, took another breath and tried again. "I..." Her shoulders slumped, and hands slipped from my penis. She stepped back and took her wine from the counter. After a healthy swallow, she said, "Can't you just have faith in me?"

I was standing with my pants at my ankles and a fading erection. I shuffled to the counter, collected my wine and sipped at it before I said, "You're asking for a lot of me, and you're not giving me much in return."

"Doesn't it mean anything that I want you to fuck me?"

"Like I said, that's pretty easy to get."

She said, "Come on, let's sit down."

I pulled up my pants, followed her into the living room and sat down next to her on the couch. We sat silently for several moments before I said, "Just tell me what's going on."

"I don't want to share that with you."

"Why not?"

"You'd see who I really am and you wouldn't like it."

"I have a pretty good idea who you are."

"You only see what I show you. You wouldn't like the real me."

"What if I do? What if you show me the real you and I still love you? What then?"

"That won't happen."

"How do you know that? Wouldn't it be amazing if you let me love the real you? After all the shit we've been through, don't you think it's worth the risk?"

She shook her head. "That's exactly why I don't want to do it. After all we've been through I don't want to lose you. I've just barely got you here as it is."

"Maybe you should have a little faith in me."

She downed the rest of her wine and stared at me.

I returned her stare and waited for her reply. I was determined not to be the one to break the silence.

Eventually, she said, "Alright, but I don't know where to begin."

"Why don't you start by explaining why you won't say that you love me?"

She exhaled and shook her head. "That's because of my mother. When I was little, she said those words to me a thousand times a day. They were the first words I heard in the morning and the last thing she said to me at night. At the time I thought love was that feeling that filled me every time she hugged me or told me a story, but I was wrong."

"What happened?"

"She ran off with some guy and started a new family with a new daddy and a new little girl. She'd said that she loved me a million times, but she didn't love me enough to stick around."

I couldn't conjure meaningful words to say, so I just held her.

"Since the day she ran off, I've felt physically ill every time I heard those three words, and I've never said them out loud."

"Just because your mother was damaged goods doesn't mean everyone is. There are good people out there. People you can trust."

Tears welled up in her eyes. "You don't understand. I'm the one that's damaged. I don't want to live in fear that you or anyone else will ever hurt me, so I don't let myself fall in love." At that, she burst into tears. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, then continued, "You acted like you were really into me, but I was afraid. I didn't want to be in love with you, and I couldn't help but wonder when you were going to leave me. Not if, but when."

I protested, "How could you think that?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Jeff gave me an excuse to leave you before you left me. You were so calm about the whole thing that I assumed you didn't care. It was like I was saving you the trouble of breaking up with me."

"That wasn't it at all."

She paused for a second then continued, "Everyone in Germany kept telling me how wonderful I was, and the whole internet thought I was the perfect woman. After that, the dominoes fell one after another. I'd made a promise, and you'd moved on. Everything was working out just like I thought it would. Then I saw you at the fair with Kevin, and I couldn't make sense of it. The wild bunch was my thing. Why would you be there with them if you were going to leave me? When I saw that pained look in your eyes, I knew I'd hurt you the way my mother had hurt me. It was then that I put it all together. I realized that Jeff was just an excuse. The problem wasn't with you, and it wasn't with Jeff; it was with me." She sobbed into her tissue and continued, "And then you said you didn't want me to call you anymore. That was when I realized that I would probably never be happy."

I occurred to me that Debbie was a frightened girl hiding in a woman's body, desperately searching for happiness. In many ways, she was as handicapped as Kimberly and the rest of the Wild Bunch. She needed me to sit down, take off my left shoe and dispel her demons.

After a long silence, I asked, "What else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Where's the part that will make me stop loving you?"

"That's all there is."

"And you think that's enough to make me stop loving you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Who could love someone that was so fucked up?"

"No satanic worship?"

She sniffed as she shook her head.

"No serial homicides?"

She smiled slightly. "Of course not."

"Littering? Was there any littering?"

A laugh erupted from under her sobs. "No. No Littering."

I held her tightly and said, "Well, you're still in control."

"Are you crazy? I am so far out of control that it's not funny."

I shook my head. "You can still choose to be happy."

"What do you mean?"

"You can choose cling to the resentment you feel for your mother and live your life as a victim, or you can accept her for the person that she is, take responsibility for your future, and be happy."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It's not easy. You could talk to Stan about it, but we both know he'd tell you to let the resentment fester in your gut and fuck up your whole life. Of course, you could just forgive your mother, accept what happened, and move on, but why would you want to be happy when you can be miserable and all alone?"

She shook her head. "I don't think I can just decide to be happy."

"Oh really? What if your mother wasn't that much different than you? What if she felt she needed to leave. Would you be able to forgive her then?"

"I suppose so if something horrible had happened."

"What if you never found out what it was; could you still forgive her?"

"You mean, just take her word for it?"

"No, I mean just look at the circumstances and say to yourself, 'Yeah, something horrible must have happened, because no one in their right mind would leave a cute little girl like me.'"

Debbie looked into my eyes in disbelief. "That would take some serious self-esteem."

"That's right. You see, it's not about her. It's about you. You may never know what happened and you'll probably never understand her. But you do have to come to believe that she did the best she could with what she had."

Debbie was confused. "Without knowing what happened?'

"Something happened. Does it matter what it was?"

"It would be easier to understand if I knew what was going on."

"Maybe, but think about this: I'm never going to understand why you had to wait for Jeff to break up with you. All I know is that's the way you needed to do it. I chose to accept that. Do you think that's easy me or that I'm making a mistake?"

For a moment I thought Debbie might try to explain why she waited for Jeff to break up with her. Instead, she slowly shook her head. "Please believe that you're not making a mistake."

I didn't need her to tell me I wasn't making a mistake. I already knew it. Strangely, explaining to Debbie what she needed to do helped me accept what I needed to do. I said, "Now you have to choose to quit being a victim."

After a long pause, she said, "I don't want to be anyone's victim. I want to be happy."

I kissed her lips then said, "That's my clever girl. I knew you'd make the right choice."

She kissed me back as she popped one of my shirt's buttons free.

My hand resumed its deep massage of her breast while I nibbled and kissed her extended neck.

She twisted her shoulders as I released the next button and said, "Don't you want to take me?"

"Oh, I'm going to take you, but there's no rush. I've waited a long time for this, and I've got the whole night."

Her smile broadened as she released the next button on my shirt. "Really? You think I'm going to stick around while you lollygag with my blouse."

"Lollygag? Lollygag? You've been poaching words from Kim!"

She released another button on my shirt and said, "Quit lollygagging. I'm horny!"

I laughed as I released the third button from her tight blouse, freeing her buoyant breasts. My hand flowed over them as I reacquainted myself with their the supple form. I said, "I'd forgotten how beautiful your tits are," then dropped into thought. The sight of her full breast was a stark reminder of the time we had lost, and it forced me to reaffirm my acceptance. Was I okay with what had happened over the last six months? Was I going to be able to move on without hesitation? After a momentary pause, I yielded to the inevitable, leaned over, and took her glorious breast into my mouth.

Her back arched as her hands moved from my shirt buttons to the back of my head. She held my head securely to her tit and pressed her chest to my mouth.

I love women's breasts. I love their round form and supple acceptance. I love the stiffness of an erect nipple and the chasm of deep cleavage. I love a look of a breast squeezing out of an undersized bra and the sway of free tits under a loose-fitting blouse, but there was something about Debbie's tits that were special. I don't know if it was her stiff nipples, large areola or the way the meat of her breast seemed to defy gravity. It didn't matter what the circumstances were; they always had the same effect on me. The simple act of taking her enticing nipple into my mouth made my cock as rigid as a titanium shaft.

Her hand followed the ticklish lateral line down my side, to my hips, and onto my cock. She pressed the base of her palm into my erection and said, "I'd forgotten how hard you can be."

I responded by nipping at her nipple, which made her shoulders slowly twist beneath me. She slid off my pants, undid the final button from my shirt and slid it off. Then she weaved her fingers into the dense hair on my chest.

I pushed her shorts to the ground and slipped my fingertips under the elastic band of her skimpy underwear. She responded by pushing her hips up into my hand. My fingertip landed lightly on the small peak of her clit, then wound it tightly by circling over it again and again.

Her hand gripped at the hair on my chest, pulling tightly as my fingers spun her excited pinnacle. My fingertips transitioned to a zigzag motion across her tender flesh and then changed back to tight circles while I observed her beneath me. She held her breath and bit her lip as her head tipped from side to side. She said, "Oh, that feels so good."

I pushed her underwear down with my thumbs then placed my flat hand on her pussy. My hand pushed firmly on the pliant folds of her throbbing flesh, vibrating with a warm, tactile, crush.

Her head stopped moving, her shoulders trembled and her hips pressed upward while her legs slowly spread, inviting my fingers to explore the depths of her hot, wet cunt.

I slid two fingers up and down the length of her pussy's soft folds and gently pressed them into her accepting vagina. I said, "You're super wet for me tonight."

She stroked my cock and said, "I haven't been this wet since the last time we were together."

I kissed her neck and said, "What a coincidence, I could only get hard if I thought of you. I felt like such a fraud, hooking up with women and then thinking about you the whole time I was with them."