While We have This Moment Ch. 02

So on the one hand, I wanted something more... romantic. Something more clearly fulfilling. Something that didn't feel like a long-married couple who no longer felt love but also felt no hate and who had settled into a peaceful coexistence. But on the other hand, I wanted to lie on the couch with my head on someone's chest and just watch a movie. I wanted to know that I wouldn't be alone every night. I wanted to hear someone else breathing softly in the dark when I woke up in the middle of the night. And yes, I wanted to be touched and held and caressed and fucked and... and... desired.

Perhaps it was the thought of a warm body next to me at night. Perhaps it was the mental image of a man losing control as he buried himself inside me, overcome with lust that I had inspired. Perhaps it was just boredom. But I soon noticed that my hand was rubbing Jared's abdomen and had even crept up under his shirt in order to rub bare skin. I froze for an instant when I realized what I was doing, but the excitement of his warm skin stretched across the taught muscles of his mid-section beckoned me to indulge myself further.

After a few moments, Jared's hand, which had been resting on my hip, moved slowly up my side, pushing my shirt up just a bit. I shivered as his hand rested on the bare skin of my side. I pushed back thoughts of how lying at this angle might be making my skin bunch up too much on the side and resolved to instead let his touch affirm me.

His hand went much further up than I had thought he would dare to go. And, what was more surprising, I lifted my arm to grant him greater access, allowing his hand to move all the way up to my bra. My own hand continued its steady caressing, even finding its way to his back. Jared shifted a little in his seat to give me more freedom of motion, and he ended up in less of a sitting position than he had been in.

After another three or four minutes, all pretense was gone and we reclined side-by-side on my couch (which was broad enough to accommodate the two of us). His mouth sought mine and we kissed in earnest. Jared's hand moved slowly along my back, working its way to the space between my shoulder blades. With one deft motion, he unhooked my bra, then trailed his fingers gently down the bare skin of my spine. He didn't move any further than that spot, perhaps giving me a chance to object to his boldness.

I didn't object.

Maybe this was what it would take to get us from the ho-hum of our peaceful coexistence and into something more exciting and romantic. Maybe sex shouldn't be the fruit of a growing relationship but instead the catalyst of it. Maybe I needed to stop waiting for things to click and instead make them click.

By this point, both my hands were under his shirt and around his back, greedily rubbing and area of skin I could reach. I reveled in the feeling of such intimate contact, which I had hardly experienced in almost a decade. Jared, meanwhile, cautiously pulled at my bra, working the straps off my shoulders. He wouldn't be able to get it any further off without my cooperation, and since that would involve removing myself from our mutual embrace, I wasn't ready to bother with that yet. Instead, I wiggled backwards a bit, causing my bra to hang loosely in front of me. Taking that as permission, Jared slid his hands in between the restricting undergarment and my soft breasts.

When his warm palms cupped my breasts, I moaned in pleasant surprise. I had forgotten how good it felt to have another's hands on me. He didn't pinch or squeeze or massage them, he merely rubbed them gently, his motion restrained by the bra in between us. I instinctively pulled him closer to me, rubbing my crotch against his thigh. My hips mimicked what I'm sure he could picture us doing if neither of us stopped our progress, and Jared helped me by slowly pushing his thigh against the dampening spot between my legs.

The sudden excitement, the sense of recklessness was too much for me. I knew it wouldn't take much to cum. I also knew I could ruin it if I got suddenly self conscious. I have never been very good at living in the moment. But I wanted this moment. My eyes had been closed almost since his hand had slipped under my shirt. I kept them closed, letting my imagination drive us towards satisfaction. I could feel his hardness on my own thigh, but I doubted he was getting enough contact to keep him from wanting something more. But nevermind that, I told myself. You're close. Keep going. And I did, clenching my thighs and rubbing against his leg, moaning as he cupped my breasts. Panting as our mouths backed away then reconnected.

I pictured Tim. I remembered his firm grip on my waist as he would drive himself to completion inside me. I remembered the barely audible whimpers he would make just before release. I remembered the feel of his cock when I would cum on him, the feeling of squeezing something so warm and hard. I pictured Tim... then Aaron. I thought of... O God!... I thought of what he might look like below me, his hands supporting my chest and I took him inside me over and over again, holding him deep, watching him strain with overflowing desire. O God, I was close... I pressed my face forward with violence, demanding a deep kiss as I sloooowwwwly slid along his thigh. This is it... it's happening...I tightened my pussy, holding off for one or two more seconds before the inevitable...

"Yes!" I suddenly cried, pulling my face back and sucking in the cool air. "Ohhh...fuck yes!" I believe my nails dug into his back, eliciting a hiss of pain. But nothing could stop the rolling waves of pleasure I was finally feeling in the arms of another. Never mind that we were still clothed and that my crotch would probably be all chaffed in the morning. I was shaking all over as chemicals flooded my brain and made rational thought impossible. My hips pulled back and I twitched, then they pushed forward again, seeking just a little more contact to finish the job. My head dropped to his shoulder and I moaned my satisfaction. "Oooohhhh, A-"

I stopped short of saying it. Aaron had been on my mind when I came... the image that had sent me over the edge. I had needed my imagination for so long that I wasn't even used to enjoying a flesh and blood partner when I climaxed. "Ooohhh, baby..." I said more intentionally. Then I whispered, "Thank you," in a voice slightly more vulnerable than I had intended.

As the high wore off and I became more aware of my surroundings, I felt embarrassed. Had I just used Jared as a prop for my self-pleasuring? Not that he seemed to mind, of course. But he hadn't even been a flicker of a presence in my fantasies during our whole coupling. Then I started to fear for what he expected next. His erection was still very present between us, and a slow gyrating of his hips against my leg made it clear that he wanted to continue towards his own release.

"You close?" I whispered hopefully next to his ear.

"Yeah," he gasped, thrusting more confidently against me.

I knew his jeans were probably too confining for a dry hump to satisfy him, so I unbutton and unzipped them. With a wince that he thankfully couldn't see, I put my hand on top of the fabric that still covered his hardness, feeling the warmth and urgency and dampness contained therein. I worked my hand up and down his length, cupping my fingers into a semi-circle to provide more stimulation.

He was closer than I had expected, and after only a minute of pressing himself against me, one hand still trapped under my bra and the other on the small of my back, he groaned and released into his underwear. It a few seconds it had soaked through and I could feel the sticky warmth on my hands. I continued stroking until his pulsing stopped and he backed his hips away.

"God," he sighed with a dreamy smile, "I don't think I've done this since high school!"

I responded with a genuine laugh. "I guess... you can clean up before you go...?" I offered as I stood up and looked at my hand, which was trembling with the exertion of pressing down in the same position for that minute.

"Yeah... yeah," he said groggily. "You first. I need a minute."

I walked swiftly to the sink and washed my hands, noting the evident wetness around my crotch. While Jared washed up, I changed into my sleep clothes. By the time I emerged, he was headed towards the door. With his hand on the knob and the door cracked open, Jared looked at me and asked, "Are you... OK... with what happened?"

I tried to laugh nonchalantly. "Yeah. Yeah, it's fine. Just as long as you don't think that's how every date will end."

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then nodded his head. With a kiss on my cheek, then another one on my lips, he headed out the door without another word.

I rushed back to my room, feeling tired and nervously excited. I picked up the phone, trying to think of what to text and to whom. In the end, I couldn't think of anything. But before I put my phone away, I saw a voice mail waiting in my inbox.

It was Aaron.

"Hey... uh... do you have any plans tomorrow? ["Ask her! Ask her!" The kids were shouting in the background] This is totally last minute, I know, but the kids and I are going hiking in the morning and they really wanted to invite you. You don't have to come, it's not like a work thing. But if you were free and wanted to hit a trail for a few hours, let me know. ["You have to" shouted Maya as the message ended]."

I looked at the time. Too late to call. But a hike sounded great. It had been... It had been years. Maybe because hikes were something I did with Tim. I decided to just let it sit. Maybe if I woke up early enough...

I fell asleep quickly, not giving even a second thought to what had transpired between Jared and me that evening. I knew I would obsess over it later, but not until after I enjoyed the sound sleep that follows such a cathartic release.

*******

I woke up before dawn, still finding it hard to break my sleep cycle on my days off. Once I was fully in motion, I sent a text to Aaron, What time? Where?

Mere seconds later I got a reply with a time and location.

See you there, I answered.

*******

Our "little hike" was a 5 hour walk that included lunch (which they had thankfully brought for me). I didn't mind the long hike, though it became painfully obvious to me how far I was physically from the shape I used to be in. Eight miles used to be a good start to a day of hiking. Now it was straining the limits of my endurance. I took consolation in seeing Aaron struggle as much as I did to keep up with the kids.

I watched him carefully all day. He didn't show the signs of addiction. He looked more tired than I thought a man his age should be, and I was sure he had lost at least 10 pounds since I had met him, but he didn't seem like he had recently taken drugs or like he was in need of them. Maybe I was wrong. But I was still sure there was something he was hiding. And I wasn't the only one he was hiding it from. His kids were so happily oblivious that there was no way they were harboring any secret other than their sad relationship with their mother.

Because Aaron had been clear that this wasn't "work," I felt no obligation to take charge of the kids. So sometimes I went on a little ahead or lingered behind to enjoy a particular view. But despite the joy of being alone in the woods every few minutes, I cherished a certain delight in hearing the kids' voices in the distance and in knowing there were people nearby who cared about me.

At one point during the final mile, Aaron and I were a good 100 yards behind the kids. He was leaning more heavily on the walking stick that had started out as merely decorative and I was beginning to wish I had one of my own. Still thinking about my suspicions and what might eventually become of the kids, I tried to think of a way to bring it up in a non-threatening way.

"So... is this how you deal with stress?"

"Hm?" he asked, apparently not really paying attention.

"Hiking," I clarified. "Is it your way of dealing with single dad stress?"

He smiled in a way that showed there was more to that question than I could understand. "All things considered, being a dad to those two is not all that stressful."

"But you worry about them," I prompted.

"Every minute of every day," he confirmed. "But I can't let them see that, can I?" It was part statement, part genuine question.

"You know," I said, lowering my voice a little, "Maya seemed to be worried that they'd have to go back to their mom at some point. But I think she feels guilty about feeling that way. She's afraid she'd get in trouble if she ever told you that."

"Well, I've tried to not show any antipathy towards their mother. But truth be told, her getting them back is my greatest fear."

"Do you think there's a chance of that?"

"No. Absolutely not. I've made sure of it."

"How can you..."

"I took care of it," he said firmly, closing the door to that topic. I was worried. But before I could probe further, the kids were running towards us, shouting about a deer they had seen. I was pretty sure we wouldn't be seeing it again that day, but we hurried ahead anyway to the scene of the deer sighting. All that was left were a few tracks in the mud off the trail. But that was sufficient excitement for the kids, who talked of little else on our walk back to the parking area.

As we got into our separate cars, Derek ran towards me and shouted back to Aaron, "Can I ride with Denise?"

"Ooh! Me too!" Maya said, hopping up and down excitedly.

"Uhhh..." Aaron wasn't sure how to answer.

"I'm not going to your house today," I explained. "Maybe next time."

"Awww..." two voices complained in unison as their shoulders slumped.

"See you tomorrow?" I asked cheerfully to distract them.

"Tomorrow?" Aaron asked. "Well, we don't have any plans, but... I mean, you'd be welcome to come over. I'll probably grill some burgers, and..."

"Oh, right," I interrupted as I remembered the date. "Memorial Day weekend. Tuesday, then?"

"Yep. Tuesday."

I pulled out onto the road while Aaron and the kids were still getting in their car. On my way home I got a text from Jared asking what my plans were for Memorial Day. I still had to work (people still need medical help on holidays, and we weren't staffed enough to give a lot of time off), and my afternoon and evening were probably going to be spent with Macy and her family. I had been missing spending time with them and needed to be refreshed. I doubted Macy and I would be able to talk as much as we needed to, but it would still be good to immerse myself in something more familiar.

I debated inviting Jared. Macy might like to meet him, but bringing him to meet her seemed almost like introducing him to my family. It would be a big step and I wasn't ready to acknowledge that level of commitment.

I wrote back: Working. Then going to a friend's house. See you Friday?

A few minutes later he replied: Friday is good. Looking forward to seeing you.

The cynical side of me guessed that wasn't really what he was looking forward to, but there was a bit of hypocrisy in that accusation.

*******

The time with Macy and Ernst and the kids was good, mostly because I was able to detach and distract myself from everything swirling in my mind about Jared, the future, Aaron and his kids, and God knows what else. I emerged from the long weekend with my mind clearer, my resolve strengthened, and my desires focused.

I would talk more with Jared. Really talk. No more pussy-footing around Was this going somewhere? Did it have a future? No more progress on the sexual plane until we caught up on the emotional and relational planes.

And I would butt out of Aaron's business. I had a job to do, I was doing it well. And that job did not include digging into his personal life. On Tuesday, I had a fairly typical work day at both jobs, and I didn't think twice when Aaron mentioned he would be home later than usual the next day. That evening, I talked to Jared on the phone, explained that I felt our hormones were getting ahead of our relationship and we needed for those two to be going at the same pace. He agreed and we planned a date for the weekend that would mostly involve serious conversation.

But then came Wednesday. Aaron was late. Not just late like he usually was, meaning he got home shortly before I left. He was an hour late. Then two hours. Then I put the kids to bed and he still wasn't home. He wasn't answering his phone. His office didn't know where he was.

Around 10pm, I heard someone fumbling with keys at the door. It took a few tries for the lock to open. I expected him to come stumbling through, either drunk or high. But it was worse than that. He staggered in, leaning much of his weight on a woman in a slinky dress, wearing too much make-up that looked as if it had been applied without a mirror. She was skinny to the point of being unhealthy, though her boobs seemed full and firm. She stumbled about on high heels, trying to support Aaron's weight. She half-dragged him towards the nearest chair, and I rushed over to help.

She quickly disentangled herself and stood up. Only then did I realize how tall she was, and how much older than she initially seemed. Her hair was stringy and unkempt, her features sharp and her eyes bitter. I had no fucking idea what to say or do. I began to expect that I was supposed to pay her or something.

Her eyes ran up and down my body and I realized she was taking stock of me even as I was of her. She snorted at my bewildered expression. Then, with a very thick Eastern European accent, she spoke.

"I am Dasha. His cousin," she stated, nodding her head towards Aaron.

"I'm Denise. I'm the nanny," I answered, following suit. At the word "nanny" she made a confused expression. "I watch the children," I explained. She nodded in understanding. After a few awkward seconds, I looked over at Aaron and asked, "Is he..."

"It's the...," she made a gesture like an injection in her arm.

"Drugs?" I suggested.

"Yes... the drugs. Sometimes make him worse. When he get too sick to drive, they call me. I get him, but can't bring home until break at work."

I had so many questions for Dasha, but even as she mentioned her break, she was turning to head back out the door. Who were 'they'? What kind of drugs? Should I give her my number?

"Next time I call the house? You come get him?" she asked, her voice softer. She was wiping a tear as she turned to face me again.

"I... I'll talk to Aaron."

"Who?" she asked.

I looked over at the sleeping body on the chair. Really? A 'cousin' who doesn't know his name?

"Oh!" she smiled, then shook her head. "Yuri," she stated.

"Yuri?" I repeated slowly, skeptically.

"Educated boy is too good for his Ukrainian name," she said mockingly. "He says 'bad for business.'" Then, with a nostalgic gleam in her eye, she added, "He is always little Yuri to me." And with that she was out the door. Curiously, I noticed that she got into the passenger side of the car in the driveway. A burly driver had been waiting for her the whole time, but he apparently couldn't be troubled to help Aaron/Yuri into the house.

Once I had locked the door, then double checked that I had locked it. I walked over to Aaron. He was not quite out of it, but was definitely suffering some ill effects of whatever he had taken. I coaxed him back into a standing position and got him at least as far as the couch. He could spend the night there. As for me... I guess I couldn't in good conscience leave the kids alone with him in that state.