Take Me with You

Everyone portrayed is over eighteen. This is fiction; as always, all characters and events, etc. are figments of our imagination and have no connection to any living or dead persons, or true events.

Very little sex is this tale of a marriage in trouble. Even though a recent commentator complained about the lack of sex in one of our LW stories, we think the following story belongs in Loving Wives.

Take Me With You

I read the inscription etched on the inside cover of the pocket watch. This must be close to how a woman feels when the man she loves presents her with a ring and asks for her hand in marriage - a true declaration of love.

It was our seventh anniversary. We were sitting in our favorite Italian restaurant drinking a nice Chianti. Kassie had the prettiest smile on her face as she watched me open the box holding the silver pocket watch and chain.

"I thought it would look nice on your leather Harley vest. I know a watch isn't as functional as they once were, but I wanted to give you something completely impractical for a change."

I admired the beauty of the Tissot timepiece and reread the inscription. "'Take me with you'?"

Suddenly, Kassie looked sad. "I know you're leaving tomorrow; I wondered, is it too late to go with you?"

Kassie's request left me speechless and before I could answer, tears started down her cheeks.

*****

I met Kassie eight years ago while we were both working summer jobs at one of the high-end Seattle restaurants on South Lake Union. Kassie Taylor had just finished her first year teaching health and PE at a suburban middle school; she was spending her summer 'vacation' waiting tables. Me, Edward 'Bud' O'Brian, had three years' experience teaching high school Biology in a city Catholic school. I spent my summers in the fine old Irish tradition, bartending.

It took twenty minutes of my first shift to fall for those big brown eyes and friendly smile. Kassie is one of those rare women who light up the room and make you feel special just being near her. It didn't hurt she has a trim runner's body with long, fit legs. As she walked away from the servers' station with a tray of pints, I must have been staring because Jake gave me an elbow to the ribs.

"Easy Bud, I don't want to step on your tongue."

It was my first day back at the restaurant after school let out for the summer. I had to ask Jake, who worked the bar full-time.

"What can you tell me about her?"

"She's a teacher like you, started last weekend. Her name's Kassie, she's single, friendly, nice and totally out of your league." Jake made this last comment while laughing. I had a reputation as a ladies' man, the guy with exceptional luck picking up the better-looking women who frequent our bar. I can't claim to be anything but the fortunate recipient of the fine genes of my father, Edward O'Brian Senior (which is how I got the name 'Bud', instead of 'Junior', thank goodness) and my mother, Anna Maria Simoncelli.

I did my best to ingratiate myself to Ms. Kassie Taylor over the next two weeks. She was always friendly, but turned down my invitations to get a drink, a cup of coffee, or go to a show. In the meantime, I declined all the advances and out right invitations from the ladies hanging out at the bar. Which was tough, especially when Sara Goodwin came in one night. Sara and I got together more than a few times the previous two summers; we'd end up on her father's thirty-eight foot Chris-Craft on Lake Union and make certain to keep the boat rocking until dawn. The woman was insatiable - and what a body!

The night Sara came into the bar, looking to renew our summertime dalliances, I had a tough time refusing, but made an excuse that I had a prior commitment which was impossible to cancel. Sara promised to swing by in a few days. "Be ready for a treat, Buddy-boy. I spent April in Miami and learned some new tricks."

Jake was nearby when I turned Sara down and gave me a look. "What's that about?" he asked, knowing Sara's reputation as a sexual firecracker.

"Let me buy you and Gwen a piece of pie and cup of coffee at the diner after work tonight, Okay?" Gwen is Jake's wife; she works the same shift, is like the big sister I never had and has a sisterly soft spot for me.

Jake figured it must be serious. "I'll ask Gwen, but I'm certain she'll say yes."

We closed up at one and I met Jake and Gwen at the all-night diner on the Ave. It was late, so we didn't have to wait for a table. Flo took our orders and I got right to it.

"Why is Kassie giving me the brush off? I've been a gentleman and have asked her out three times now. Is she seeing someone?"

Gwen had the nerve to laugh while answering, which is one reason why I love Jake's wife, another being how she respects and loves the big Norsky. "That's too funny, Bud. She MUST be in a committed relationship if she turned you down."

Flo was at the table with our coffee and pie. Gwen waited while Flo served and after we all thanked her, Gwen filled me in. "The other servers have informed Kassie that you're a horn-dog. Your reputation sucks, Bud; especially with Jamie. You might not have considered your relationship last summer with Jamie to be exclusive, but she did. And after she heard you spent the night on Sara's boat while you two were dating, she kind of hates your guts. The well is poisoned."

I had to defend myself. "That wasn't my fault; we never made any promises."

"It's time to face facts, Bud. You'll be able to keep getting skanks into your bed, but decent women who want more than a quick roll in the hay are out of bounds."

I noticed Jake spent this entire time being quiet and keeping his mouth filled with pie, he already finished his and was working on Gwen's. He looked up and nodded his head in my direction. The implication was apparent, he agreed with Gwen.

Time to set them straight.

"I know I've spent the first two years you've known me playing the field, but I wasn't always like that. I stayed true to my high school girlfriend until I received her 'Dear John' letter while stationed in Afghanistan. In college, I was completely faithful to the girl I was dating until that relationship went sour just before graduation; she said my scars were a constant reminder how stupid I was to join the Army right out of high school. It's taken me a couple years to even consider opening my heart and trusting someone again after two failed relationships. I spent this last year re-examining myself, getting back to who I was. It ended up I didn't need any psycho-analysis - spending time with my mom and dad helped get me back on track. And seeing you two together simply confirms it."

Jake and Gwen were listening to me; probably amazed who they were sitting with, not the immature playboy who spent the past two summers bedding down any decent looking chick.

"Here's where I'm at. I'd like to date Kassie. I'm attracted to her physically and I like her friendliness. Call it whatever, but from the first time she looked into my eyes and smiled, I've wanted to get to know her. Help me make that happen and I promise you both I'll be a complete gentleman. Even if she and I aren't compatible and it goes nowhere, I won't betray your trust in me. I promise."

Now, the thing is - Gwen is a complete and utter romantic. Deep down inside, she hopes everyone gets a chance to have a relationship as great as theirs. My statement had a profound effect on her; she grabbed my hand across the table and smiled with tears in her eyes. I had an ally.

Before the end of the week, the four of us were sitting in Gwen and Jake's backyard while Jake grilled a salmon. We ate, drank, laughed, and shared stories. I fell in love with Kassie.

She accepted my proposal on Christmas Eve and we were married in June. We honeymooned in Maui. If you can believe it, it was the first time I saw Kassie in a bikini.

Our courtship was so brief and filled with so many other obligations, mostly work and planning a wedding, I never stopped to realize how few experiences we shared before that week in Maui. Yes, we made love the first time after two months of dating, but we didn't live together, Kassie still lived with her mom and dad, a very traditional, old-school couple. Her parents frowned whenever we spent a rare weekend together before the wedding. Kassie wasn't a virgin, but her previous boyfriend/lovers could be counted on her father's right hand, even though his hand was missing two fingers from an industrial accident.

The honeymoon in Maui was the first time I pressed Kassie on a few new kinks. Nothing outlandish, at least to most married couples, and nothing even close to what Sara and I used to do. It was the first time we had oral sex, even if it was only for a few minutes. It was the first time we 'fucked' doggy style. I surprised Kassie with a leopard print nightie and a bikini with half the material of the one she brought with her.

"Where would I wear this?" She asked after she finally agreed to try on the bikini for me in our room.

"There's a quiet beach on the southwest side of the island. We'll go there, no one will be within a hundred feet of us and I can watch you in the sun."

Kassie agreed and we spent a lovely afternoon sunbathing and playing in the surf. I didn't press the next day when we went on a snorkeling boat, she wore her more modest bikini - skill risqué for her - and I told her how great she looked. Small steps - because this wonderful lady was worth the patience.

*****

The next six years were wonderful. Kassie and I got along great, we were best friends and passionate lovers. Kassie continued to spread her wings sexually. There were few positions in the Kama Sutra we hadn't tried; missionary was still her favorite, but at least once a week Kassie would ride me 'Cowgirl', my favorite. In that position I can still look in her eyes and both my hands are free to play with her nipples, squeeze her ass cheeks, tickle her anus, or rub her clit with my thumb until Kassie has a screaming orgasm.

We dabbled in watching some hard-core porn, bought toys, and shared fantasies. One thing we didn't do - we never played with other people; our sex life was exclusive to each other and as far as I thought, as good as it gets.

Kassie and I had one major contention in our relationship; and that didn't develop until after our sixth anniversary. I've been a motorcycle enthusiast since I was a kid. It started with trail bikes; during my early twenties I rode a sport bike, my Honda CBR 1000. I traded the sport bike in and bought a Harley Road King set up for two-up touring the summer I met Kassie.

For our first six years together, Kassie shared my love of touring on the bike. My engagement present to her was a set of leathers and a heated vest. She already had the helmet I bought her when we first started dating.

During our engagement, we spent one weekend traveling to Vancouver, another catching the ferry to Orcas Island. The summer after the wedding, we spent our weekends, which were Tuesday and Wednesday because we still worked at the restaurant during our summer breaks, riding to get out of the city. The Northwest has tons of great roads - through the Cascades on Routes 20, 12 or 410, along the Columbia River on Route 14, and so many more. The best part? Spending hours riding these roads with the love of my life on the back of the bike. Kassie loved those trips as much as I did.

Until the day, about three weeks after our sixth anniversary, when two of our friends, Marc and Judy Koluski, were killed when a drunk driver ran a red light and Marc couldn't break in time to avoid the collision. Marc died instantly, but Judy stayed in intensive care for two weeks before she succumbed to her injuries. During those two weeks, Kassie and I were allowed two visits. I've never seen Kassie so distraught.

Kassie never got on my bike again. And worse than that, she started to hound me into selling my bike. I thought she was being unreasonable and never considered how my refusal to even discuss it would eventually affect our marriage.

In my defense, I didn't press Kassie to get on my bike, even though I missed our weekends riding through the countryside that summer. I tried to explain why I thought I was a better, safer rider than Marc. I probably rode less than a thousand miles over the next nine months, but I didn't get rid of the bike. I never considered how devastated Kassie was after spending a couple hours at Judy's bedside.

Kassie slowly pulled away from me, emotionally and physically, but so slowly I hardly noticed until April of the following year. It was mid-April when I realized we hadn't made love for the past three weeks, and probably only once every other week for two months prior to that. We hadn't spent an entire weekend together since February, although I went on a Saturday ride with the local H.O.G. (Harley Owners Group) chapter during Spring break.

The house was dark and cold the evening I returned from that ride, Kassie spent the day at her parents' and didn't come home until after ten.

The few times we talked about it, we had the same discussion, over and over again.

"Bud, I can't imagine having children if you keep riding that thing. I don't intend on being a single, widowed mother raising our children alone."

Of course, I always pointed out how irrational she was being. "Kassie, look at all the riders we know that are still riding and haven't had an accident."

Round and round we'd go. Kassie would pull statistics off the Internet and show me newspaper articles to prove her point; I'd do my best to parry her arguments. I'd ridden a motorcycle since I was twelve, except for my time overseas, and never had an accident. One of the great things about living in Western Washington was the lack of harsh winters, I would suffer withdrawal if I went two weeks without getting on my bike.

We were getting nowhere and drifting apart. I found out much later there was a snake in the garden, anxious to take advantage of our disagreement.

*****

By late May, I'd had enough. Kassie and I barely spoke and were tip-toeing around each other. We shared meals and the same bed, but our conversations were purely utilitarian, there wasn't a shred of intimacy, in or out of bed. The marriage was on life-support, if not already dead.

I made a decision. As soon as the school year finished, I was going to get on my bike and spend four weeks doing what I always wanted to do - crisscross the country - ocean to ocean and back. To make a statement, I was leaving the day after our seventh anniversary - Fuck It!

I wasn't being a complete asshole, I told Kassie my plans and started sleeping in the guest room three weeks before my scheduled departure. For the first week after my announcement, I'd come home to find Kassie crying in the living room. I was surprised, I really didn't think she cared.

The thing is - I still loved her. As hard as I tried to steel my heart to the fact our marriage was over, I wanted to hold her and magically make our problems disappear. But all of us scientific types know - there's no such thing as magic.

*****

On the morning of our anniversary, Kassie asked if we could have dinner that night at a nice downtown Italian restaurant we used to like.

"Why not?" was my curt answer.

We dressed up; Kassie wore my favorite blue dress and her five-inch heels. I wore a coat and tie. It was a weeknight, so the restaurant was only half full. As usual, when we walked to our table, more than a few of the other patrons looked approvingly at us. With Kassie beside me, we really did make a nice looking couple.

We ordered a bottle of wine while we read the menu. After ordering, and while tasting the wine, Kassie pulled the box out of her small clutch purse. As I read the inscription out loud, Kassie asked the question.

"I know you're leaving tomorrow; I wondered, is it too late to go with you?"

You could have knocked me over with a feather, between the beautiful pocket watch, the sentimental inscription, and her request to accompany me on a motorcycle trip, I was overwhelmed. I barely got the words out. "I'd love that."

"I want us to start over, Bud. I want to be your lover and friend again. I'm still scared shitless at the thought of being on your bike, but I've thought it through. I'd like to try and share that with you again."

I didn't give Kassie my gift to her that was in the breast pocket of my sport coat. A homemade card with a photo on the front of me sitting on my bike waving goodbye. No words, just my wedding ring inside. If Kassie noticed I wasn't wearing it, she hadn't said anything.

I excused myself, went into the bathroom, tore up the card, and put my ring back where it belonged.

When I sat back down, our meals were on the table.

"I didn't get you anything."

"I know - you were leaving me. Just tell me you still love me and want this. That would be the best gift of all. That and the fact you put your wedding ring back on." Kassie gave me her million watt smile.

We went home that night and made love twice. I postponed my departure a day and spent it getting the bike set-up for Kassie and her gear. Kassie spent the day getting the condo ready for our month long absence.

We'd be gone for 30 days, the eight thousand miles would be covered by twenty days of riding and ten days of rest, recreation and sight-seeing.

*****

"Bud, do you believe in divine intervention?"

We were laying in the motel room bed outside Spokane the first night of our trip. I thought it was a strange question so late at night and couldn't think why Kassie was bringing it up now. "You mean when God or higher force intervenes on a person's behalf?"

"Yes, like that."

Kassie and I have discussed religion and our thoughts on God a few times before, but like so many 'modern' couples, religion wasn't a central fixture in our lives. Although I was brought up in the Catholic Church and taught in a Catholic high school, it had been years since I was in a church for anything other than weddings or funerals.

I wasn't certain this was the best time to ponder such a deep subject, we'd been on the road for most of the day and we'd just finished a few pints of strong ale, but something was on Kassie's mind and I didn't want to miss an opportunity to understand what's been bothering her, so I answered.

"Well, we've talked before about how I've struggled with the idea of a Supreme Being. And even if I could believe in a Supreme Being, can I accept that it directs our actions or even the weather, the oceans, nature? That's even tougher for me to accept."

"Why?"

"Because I haven't been able to reconcile the idea of an all-controlling god with all the awful things that happen in the world."

"But what about all the good, wonderful things that happen?"

"I understand what you're saying. My mom still prays and she believes it helps. When Dad recovered from his cancer, she honestly believed it was due to her prayers to Saint Jude - and I'd be the last one to try and dismiss her beliefs."

Kassie nodded her head. "Yes, I know. Why would God answer one person's prayers and not another? Or why would any god allow a young child to get cancer? I've struggled with the same things."

We spent the next half hour back and forth. I was just about to ask Kassie what brought this up when I noticed her eyelids shutting. One minute later Kassie was purring the way she does when she's asleep - it had been a long day. I'd have to wait until later to ask my question.

We woke up late the following morning, grabbed a quick bite at the hotel's breakfast bar and got back on the bike. Still avoiding the Interstates, we headed northeast on US 2 bound for Whitefish.

*****

When I ride my motorcycle, I block out all outside stimuli except for the road and scenery. No radio blaring or any other electronic noises, I'm not reading a map or checking my smartphone for messages, no phone calls - all the distractions that tempt me while in an automobile are non-existent when I'm riding. I use the time to ponder things, my mind achieves a certain clarity. The sensation is best explained in Robert Pirsig's 'Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance' or Melissa Pierson's 'The Perfect Vehicle - What it is About Motorcycles'. Both excellent books, and there are others, written by better authors than me on why we ride.*