Untold Secret

Every woman has a secret-every last one of us. Whether it be the fact that you're a lesbian, you love another man, you had an abortion; you have a secret that you're hiding. My secret is not as simple as the ones I've listed, it's complicated. In fact, I doubt you'd even believe me if I were to tell you, so maybe I won't, but the way this story goes eventually I'm going to have to explain. For now though, I'll tell you about Ryan Luke-that's my boyfriend, although he likes to say he is old enough to be considered "my man". Anyway, he is just a great guy; he goes jogging with me twice a week, holds my hand in public and isn't afraid to express his feelings. Ughh, that may have made him sound like he's whipped-trust me he isn't. He has two baby pit bulls, drives a '67 Mustang, likes to go fishing and he plays poker every Tuesday religiously, did that solve the girly-guy problem? Figured it would, I love Ryan Luke. It's just that simple, I feel for him what every girl feels for that true love they dream up for themselves. We just have one slight problem............

I make my way into my building, checking the mailbox, which is filled with the usual; bills, bills and more bills. Half of them are addressed to me: Miss Kimmie Taylor and the other half are addressed to my sister: the lovely Latoya Taylor, I talk like I'm on a game show, right? Nah, it's just this imagination of mine, I have no other outlet for it, so I have all this pent up energy-wait, I'm getting ahead of myself again. Sorry, so I press the number 4 on my elevator and wait to reach home. Today was a long day, I'm currently doing rotations at an inner-city hospital, no I'm not a medical student, I'm a pharmacy student. So I have these long days and lately I haven't had much of a social life, the last time I saw Ryan, was maybe three weeks ago. We speak every night, but it's just not the same as having him here with me, I wish it was different, but I don't have much of a choice. Then I also have work, which drains me even more. Thank God for Latoya being done with her formal education and able to foot most of the bills. My sister and I have lived together ever since our parents passed away about, ten years ago. I was 16, she was 18. We've always stuck together, although occasionally I want to scream at her. She is such a neat freak, and I am a bit messy, but we love each other. Sister's fight, right?

I exit the elevator and slowly walk down to our apartment, for some reason I feel myself slowly, but surely burning up. It's the dead of January; winds are blowing and the snow is high. What reason is there for me to be burning up like this? I unbutton my pea coat in a hurry and fiddle with my keys at the door. Latoya opens it for me, hands on her hip.

"Kimmie, how many times do I have to tell you not to leave your dishes in the sink?" She looks so annoying right now, with her black rimmed glasses and hair in a bun, this does not quell my urge to tell her to shut up.

"Shut up 'Toya," I say brushing past her as I fling my army green coat into the nearest closet and dash to the kitchen. Desperately I fill a glass with ice-cold water, I gulp it down leaning against the sink. I close my eyes and let the trickles of water sooth my parched throat. I open my eyes, 'Toya is next to the fridge, watching me cautiously.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" she asks going into full on mommy mode. She touches my forehead and her eyes open widely, "You're practically burning up, you have a fever. Here take some Tylenol," I push away the red and white container and guzzle more water.

"I'm fine, maybe I just over dressed. You know me, I over do it with the layering in the colder months."

"if you say so, how was work/school?"

I shrug my shoulder, feeling the urge to get naked, it was so hot. "We're doing rotations in the neonatal ward; it's breaking my heart. All those babies...under-developed lungs, weakened immune systems...happy it's only one more week. Could you open a window?"

Latoya raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, "Kimmie, it's January and it's twenty degrees outside, you sure you're alright?"

I refill my glass and begin walking to my bedroom, I hear Latoya say something off in the distance, but I don't pay it much attention. I step into the safe confines of my boudoir and I exhale. Finally I could relax and shake off the burdens of the day. My bedroom is my personal safe haven; virtually no one gets to come in here. No one. This is the only place I can truly let my hair down, be free, you get the picture. Growing up my mom always told me that a girl's bedroom was sacred, and she was right. I won't even sit on my bed in my work or school clothes. I don't eat in here, except for the occasional cookie; I don't do homework in here. I save my bedroom for all the sentimental things. The way it's decorated now, you would swear that I was some sort of French whore-I'm not. I'm sensual, loving, and gifted. I have a wonderful Queen sized brass bed, adorned with silk and satin pillows. 800-count Egyptian cotton sheets, sequined sleeping eye masks, sheer-white canopy, antique chest and nightstands, I was living in my own world. I even have a Victorian print chaise lounge where I happily fling my pajamas when the nights are too hot, and the sheets feel better against my naked skin. In here I rule-I am the Queen, all of my wishes come true. This is where I can hide nothing.

I drop my messenger bag to the floor and begin to step out of my riding boots, I pause, the hairs on my neck although sweaty, are standing straight up. Slowly I do an about face, I gasp and no sounds escape my mouth. Ryan, he's sitting at my vanity, staring at me with all the love and concern you would ever hope to see on the one that you love. We stare at each other, me realizing why I was burning up and how I was going to get myself out of this one, and he looking hurt, and I know why he was hurt. He'd never been in here, in four years he had never gotten to see the deepest part of me. So, remember when I said that Ryan and I had a problem? Well the time has come for me to explain, we have horrible sex, and it's all horrible due to me. I know you're probably like "Kimmie girl, you better screw that man properly! Good men are hard to find!" Yea, I know, but it's not so simple. We have been together for one year, but we've known each other for four, and in this entire time I have never invited him to my house. Latoya always tries, but I decline for him. Can you imagine loving someone with all your heart and not being invited over to their house? Of course I've been to his house hundreds of times, and still he doesn't force me to invite him over. I guess every dog has his day, 'cuz here he was looking wonderfully masculine in my Lady Marmalade themed bedroom. I bite my lip in frustration, I also feel like a bitch in heat. I don't know how I'm going to explain this.

He speaks first, "Didn't Latoya tell you that I was in here waiting for you?" his honey glazed eyes hold mine in a trance.

"No," I whisper, feeling the sweat at my temples boil, "She didn't say anything, why are you here?"

He flinches briefly, and then regains his clench jawed look, "I came here because I was tired of never being invited. Why is that Kimmie? Please explain, I have no immediate plans, so I'm all ears."

He looks so ripe and luscious sitting there, I clench my thighs, doing my best to fight the feelings. He doesn't know what he's awakened by coming here, it could be catastrophic. 'Ryan," I pause to inhale" you shouldn't be here, you have to leave. Now."

He stands up and takes three easy strides towards me and touches my wrist I yelp and step back, he can't touch me, not in here. "Now I can't touch you? Am I that bad of a lover Kimmie? Do I disgust you that much? "He says standing but a few feet away from me.

"Ryan Luke I love you, but you'll never understand, I need you to leave."

He bites his fist in agony and flares his nostrils at me "I don't understand why I can't be here with you? Do you have another man? Where is he? Where?" he shouts like a mad man walking around my bedroom in search of my phantom lover. I wish it was that simple, I absent mindedly tug at my turtleneck and my skirt, it is unbearably hot in my room. I rush to the window and crack it open; pushing it up as far as it will go. I inhale large breaths of winter flavored air and try to clear my mind so I can focus. I need to focus in order to get through this.

He walks towards me again and I hold out a hand attempting to halt him, he looks so hurt when I do this, but I refuse to cry-that'll make it worse. "Ryan please, you would never understand not in a million years, you have to leave."

He shoves his hands into his pockets, looking as vulnerable as a little boy who's lost his mommy, my heart breaks for him. "Kimmie you've reduced me to the state of a love-sick seventeen year old boy, why? Why can't I be in here? What is it? Is it me? I know ever since we've decided to have sex, we haven't been so good at it, but some lovers need practice with each other. Don't rule me out because I haven't given you a good thrashing, I'm still here. What man still pines after a woman who fucks him like she's a corpse?"

Yup, that was my man, he held no punches, and you always knew where you stood with him. "Ryan, I wish I could explain, but it just isn't so easy....I'm sorry." I say, not looking as sorry as I should be, on account of me shielding my emotions. He had to leave and fast.

"You're sitting there shaking like a leaf, your clothes clinging to you, and your rocking your leg back and forth, obviously stimulating yourself, why should I leave?" he finally closes the gap between us and touches my thigh. I close my eyes and I hear the door lock click into place, oh shit.

"What was that?" he says turning around, and then looking back at me.

I swallow a huge knot in my throat, "the door locked."

His eyebrows furrow together, he eyes me curiously, "Did Latoya lock it?"

I shake my head slowly, "It can only be locked from the inside..." I bite my lip nervously.

He rubs my knee and I feel the heat rising once again, "So how'd it lock?"

I silently pray to God asking him to please let Ryan understand, I couldn't deal with him breaking my heart. "I locked it."

He considers this briefly, turning his handsome face away, then back again. He holds my chin in his rough hands, bringing us eye to eye. "So what are you saying? That you're.....

I nod my head slowly, "Yes, I am...." We both dance around the word, each of us too afraid of what will happen if we say it.

He holds my face in his hands, smoothing the curls at my temples with his thumbs, "How?"

"My mom had it, and her grandma had it...it's supposed to skip a generation, but my dad was gifted too....are you afraid?"

He kisses my lips, bringing me to a silent yes, yes I'll make love to you, yes I'll bare my soul to you, yes, just yes. His warm tongue slips in to tango with my fevered own, he attempts to go slow, but I don't want slow. After all the times that I had to focus when he was making love to me, pretending to not feel a thing...I wanted to be fucked. I suckle on his ample bottom lip, lashing my tongue out to circle his mouth; I catch the surprise on his face. Oh I get it, where's the dead fuck now?

"Babe.......afraid? This is how I always imagined you, free, sexy and mine all mine. Come here, take this off." He says practically ripping my damp clothes off of me, first I feel my shirt being stripped away, the cool air washes over my chest, my nipples rise to the occasion, he notices as they form hard knots against my lace bra. I don't know how long I can go on playing demure, I need to unleash my beast. He weighs my turtleneck in his hands, "It's sopping wet, did you get wet on the way home?" He touches my neck, "Why are you burning up like this? Are you sick? Why didn't tell me that you were sick?"

"I'm not sick," I manage to say "It's part of my condition..." I trail off still not sure if I should give my gift a title.

He drops the shirt carelessly, too focused on me. "What is your condition exactly? I mean are we speaking about..."he motions for me to finish, but I don't.

"Go on; say what you think it is."

He scratches his head, "You're telekinetic?"

"Yes, and I wish you knew how hard this was for me."

"Is that why your parents died? Did some warlock come looking for them?"

He's mocking me, why does everyone always have to mock the powers? "Something like that, so are you going to run away from me too? Tell everyone that I'm a weirdo? Or report me to the cops?"

"Maybe I should sit on the other side of the room, I don't wanna' piss you off, and I think that the closer I get to you the more you boil up, correct?"

How can I be pissed off at that? It's rational and caring, I nod and he sits away from me.

"You wanna ask some more questions, right?"

"Only if you don't mind," he says looking right through me, "It's just different, that's all."

I fan my sweaty skin and sit down, my back against the window.

"You had to move before?"

I nod sadly; an old boyfriend of mine had told the whole town that I could levitate my body, control things with my mind. Latoya and I had to take off in the dead of the night; we had to leave everything behind. It was tough."

"I'm sorry for that, did you let him into your bedroom?" he asks with a hint of jealousy in his tone.

"No," I'd never, ever allowed any man into my private quarters "this was back when I let my emotions show during sex. We were in his parent's garage, and well...let's just say that things started to fly."

Ryan makes the "ahhhhh" sound as if he has found out the answer to life, "I thought it was me, maybe you just didn't really like me like that."

The water on my nightstand begins to bubble, breathe Kimmie...just relax. The water slows down, and Ryan is still watching me intently. "Are you still learning to control it?"

"If someone second guesses me, or doesn't take my word I tend to get a bit edgy."

"Did you ever hurt anyone while having sex?"

I close my eyes in shame; I'd gotten drunk one night when I was 17 and the results will haunt me for all my life. "Yes, and I didn't mean to, and he had gotten me drunk, gave me too much....he took advantage of me or at least tried to....I didn't wanna go all the way, and he did....long story short I woke up to blood on my hands." I take a deep breath and continue, "While he was attempting to rape me, I screamed and my energy peaked....so in my despair everything around me started floating, and a knife that he had laying around was the closest object to me, so I used it to cut away at his groping hands. I ran home to 'Toya and she consoled me then sadly told me that we had to leave. It was only some months after my parents had passed and the people in town still speculated about us, so it wasn't as if I was sad to go. It was just the circumstances....I never wanted to hurt you, ever. If I did I would've went crazy, that's why I chose to just lay there when we had sex. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I wasn't sure if you would understand or not, don't be mad at me please."

I start sobbing uncontrollably, and in between the gasps of air, I take a moment to concentrate-I do not want anything bad to happen. I cried like a spoiled brat when my mother wouldn't give me my favorite doll as a kid and I cracked the television screen.

He comes near me and holds me, "You don't have to be sorry, that is a big secret to walk around with, I don't know if I could have been so brave. So is that why you always protested to me coming over?"

"Yes, I knew it would be the end of my secret, how many telepaths do you know?"

He makes a zero with his thumb and forefinger and I laugh, "So am I allowed to stay over now?"

I eagerly nod my head, "If it helps, I had to concentrate really hard when we were having sex. Didn't you notice a couple of things in your house either broken or on the floor afterwards?"

He pauses to think and then smiles knowingly at me, "I blamed Nick and Maya for a particular vase for quite some time, I just didn't know how they even had the opportunity to get into that particular part of the house.......say you're sorry." He tips my chin up to look at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything."

"I forgave you since I saw you undressing with your back turned to me, now would I be insensitive if I said that I needed to have you now? As in right now, with your sister in the house, 'cuz I don't care if she hears."

He kisses a trail down the v of my breast, circling his tongue around my navel, even sticking his tongue in briefly to taste the beads of sweat. I feel my uterus quiver in anticipation of all that is yet to come; he licks the band of my skirt as his eyes connect with mine.

"I wanted it to be so good for you that first time, but it wasn't. It was a big blow to my ego," he turns me around forcing me to bend over the window pane, as he bites my ass through my skirt. I gasp and try to keep it together; I was mentally counting the sharp objects I had laying around my bedroom. I think I had 'em safely hidden...I feel my leggings being pushed down to my feet and then I feel him gently easing me out of them. I love him.

Now I am bent over the window ledge, skirt bunched around my hips, with my stockings burning me up. I wish I had the power to press my wishes into his brain, but I have to make do with what I have. I think it and it happens, my stockings are being slid down my thighs,

"No, you can't rob me of that Kimmie, let me do it. Come away from the window, I don't want you to get hurt amidst all of this."

I feel a gentle tug on my heart, he understands what will happen when I lose my composure, finally, someone understands! He turns me around so that my back is facing my bed, and we walk backwards to it, and in the meantime I throw the pillows off carelessly. I search his face for any hidden fears of my abilities, but he just has that look that men get. The animal lust that they have, when they feel the need to tear you to pieces; I was Ryan's dinner tonight.

I fall back on the one pillow I decided to leave behind and my legs betray me as they helplessly splay open, exposing my pink thong, playing peek-a-boo behind the soon to be lost stockings. He holds my feet in his hands, nipping at them, romancing them as he makes his way towards his destination. I knew he was masculine and strong, but the way he rips my fishnets apart does something to me. I don't know if I have a mini orgasm, but the river begins to over flow, and then his tongue is on me. Sucking at me tenderly, but with enough suction that I begin to levitate us off the bed, he is THE best at this.

"Control it Kimmie, you're safe with me, control it." He murmurs between my legs, while I find myself experiencing little glimpses of heaven as I battle for safety and pleasure. I ride that tight wave of passion, gritting my teeth exposing my ugly "cum" face to him. As I float us down, I pop an eye open, I haven't broken anything. I am so ecstatic usually when I masturbate I break something in the room. Ryan is feverishly licking and sucking his way to my mouth; I still have on my bra and my skirt is caught around my waist. He sucks my breasts and I realize something, I undressed him with my mind.

"Babe, where are your clothes?"

He looks down at his body and laughs, "They had to come off anyway, the best parts yet to come."

I put a hand to his chest, and take a deep breath. "Are you sure?"

"Is there something else?"

I nod my head slowly, "If there is any doubt that you may have about being with me, now would be the time to tell me. Because if you do, we can't do this.....it's binding. It'll bind us together, forever. In ways you've never imagined."