My thoughts have veered off course, and I need to focus on the woman crawling up the bed like a cat hunting a mouse.
Even though I haven't admitted it to myself, this is one of the reasons I'm so afraid of this thing with Emily. Sex and the topic of sex have always been off the table with her. We have never discussed previous experiences. I'd always assumed Emily was a virgin, but maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part since she came to me at a young age. I'm not naive enough to think that teenage girls aren't having sex. I just didn't want Emily to be one of them.
Being nervous about Emily's sexual experience, or lack thereof, isn't my only reason for pause. I don't know whether or not I should divulge my history. Part of me thinks it plays a huge part in things, while the other part of me says it doesn't matter. I'm torn and don't know which is right. I know honesty is the best policy, but will it do more harm than good in this case?
"Ethan?" I look up and see those expressive eyes. She needs my comfort and acceptance. Even though I made it clear we are only sleeping tonight, it seems like she is still trying to persuade me to do more. How else would you explain the tiny underwear and feline-like movements? If I don't stop this dead in its tracks now, I know I won't. Things will go too far too fast.
I open my arms in invitation, hoping she gets the message without hurt feelings. "Just lay down with me."
Why is she giggling?
The haze from sleep is slowly lifting, and the morning sun shines through the window. I want to recap the events of last night before I open my eyes and look at the most important person in my life.
"Ethan?" Emily whispers.
"Hmmm," I answer to let her know I'm awake. Her hand is on my stomach, under my shirt, where she strokes the hair just above my belly button.
"Can I touch it?" Emily breathes in a hushed tone.
My eyebrows furrow with my eyes still closed.
"Touch what?"
Another giggle.
Emily's hand slides down a little further, and a finger dips inside the waist of my pajamas.
Whoa!
I grab her wrist to still her movement, but she tugs away. "I want this, Ethan. I want this with you. Please don't make me beg you."
The last thing I want is for Emily to connect negative feelings to sex with me, but I never came to a resolution last night. I am not sure how much to tell her, but I don't think dwelling on it any longer will help me decide. I'm going to have to throw a bone and see her response.
"We need to talk, Emily."
"Later." It's a bold statement on her part, but I can't deny her as her hand moves under my waistband. I'm ashamed to say that I've denied her touch for too long, and I don't want to wait for another second. Her lips move to mine, my mouth automatically opening. I want nothing more than to swallow her whole but settle for the caress of her tongue on mine.
Her fingers play under my pants, flirting with the idea of moving lower. My hands have been flat against the mattress until now, but I can't stop their journey to her arms, then back. Knowing she is touching me intimately gives me the courage to do the same. My hand floats to the crest of her ass, gliding across her flesh. She moans, giving me the courage to extend my caress to her bare flesh beneath her panties. My touch is tentative because I want to get this right.
"Yes," comes her strangled plea.
We continue kissing with nips and tugs of lips and teeth; my hand moves to the top of her thigh, then down to the dip where her ass meets her legs. She pushes toward me, her pussy opening to meet my waiting hand. I don't have to search far before encountering slick skin, eager for my attention. Her breath stutters as my fingers begin to move, stroking her.
Her hand moves to touch me, her thumb rubbing my head, spreading the pre-cum. Her touch feels so good that I move my mouth away from hers, fearful I'll bite her. Instead, my teeth graze her jaw then continue to move lower. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting more of her. I've imagined what her nipples look like - taste like. I want to know that my fantasies don't compare, even a small portion, to the reality. But this is not a fantasy. This is someone I care about, dream about, someone who matters and this has to be right.
I pull her tank down, exposing her breasts. My mouth immediately latches on, suckling and lapping at the darkened peak. My fingers massage while my tongue caresses, and in only a few seconds, Emily is panting and writhing. Her head falls to my chest as she stiffens in my arms. I've never felt so satisfied, despite not having my own release. But it doesn't matter, because I know that this is only the beginning. This is the first of many gifts I hope to give her.
After I make her get dressed completely, we sit at the kitchen table for a much needed discussion.
"So, you've never....?" I start.
"No."
While I'm deliriously happy Emily is a virgin, I also know the pain associated with the first time for a woman, and I'm not looking forward to inflicting that. I want to give her pleasure, not pain.
"What about you?" Emily asks followed by a big gush of air. "Never mind; that's a stupid question. Of course you have. I mean, look at you." I open my mouth to answer her, but she doesn't let me.
"No, tell me. I want to know. How many?"
And there lies the crux of my problem. I'm afraid to tell her, because if she knows, will she still trust me with her most precious gift?
Vacant Chapter 15 Together
I take a deep breath, steadying myself for Emily's backlash at my revelation.
"One." It's the truth. There's only been one, but that one isn't simple. I am not looking at her as I say this, so I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, hoping she doesn't hate me for what I'm about to tell her next.
"There was this girl, in high school, she was known to..." I trail off, hoping Emily gets the idea, but she just sits and stares at me. She's going to make me spell it out. "She was known as the go-to girl for sex. I was sixteen, angry and very curious." She's still watching me but begins to fidget. "She would do pretty much whatever, and I took advantage of that. It was emotionless and a means to an end. She let me take my frustrations out on her, Emily. No matter how angry, depressed, or lonely I was, she let me fill the void with her - in her." Her face scrunches, and I can see she's getting the idea. "It wasn't about love, or even lust, really. It was about me taking. There was no giving." I want to drive my point home with revealing the true debauchery in which I'd participated for two years, but I don't want Emily thinking I want her to do the depraved and experimental acts I'd once divulged in. That was a different time and a different me, but there was still an insecurity, despite my experience, I couldn't shake. "It was all about me, okay? I wasn't there to make her come."
"So, were you like..." I can see her trying to put all the pieces together. "You said you were angry. Were you angry...with her?"
I pause because I don't want to lie, but I don't want to tell the truth either. "Yes."
"Did you hurt her?"
I take a moment so I can say this right. Hurt can mean many things, but I think Emily means physically, so that's the hurt I respond to. "No. I never hurt her. It really was just sex, nothing else. I never hit her or forced her. She was always willing."
She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she continues to play with the placemat. "Did you like it?"
It's the question I've been waiting for. Emily wants to know if I want it to be like that with her. "When a boy has urges, there's little that will stop him from getting to the end. It's like how you fold clothes. How the shirt has to hang just right on the hanger, or the pants creased perfectly. You can't stop until everything is just right and you're satisfied." I can't believe I'm comparing sex to laundry. "But as a man, it's not about how the clothes are folded or hung. It's about the clothes being clean and smelling good. It's about the process, not the end result." Jesus Christ, this sounds stupid.
"With you, Emily, I want to feel everything. I want it to be about you and me, us. It's not about the physical result at the end."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah, okay. I trust you, Ethan."
"No, to the left a little bit?" Emily can't seem to find a comfortable position.
"Better?"
"Uh, just give me a sec - " She winces again and I know this is painful. She tries to hide it, but I know.
Yep, complete disaster. I never should've agreed to this. It's uncomfortable for Emily, and there doesn't seem to be a way to make it better.
"Do you want to try on top?" I'm grasping at straws. I want this to be a good experience for her.
"Are you okay?" I know she fought back tears when I finally did it. She told me to just do it and get it over with. Not my proudest moment. It's not what any guy wants to hear: "Just get it over with."
"Yeah." Her confirmation is so small.
"Emily, I'm so sorry. I - " She interrupts me with her hand over my mouth.
"Please stop, Ethan. It won't always be like this. My mom..." her pause indicates that bringing up her mother is still hard for her. "My mom told me about sex. She said it would hurt the first few times, but she also told me that if I was with the right person it would be okay. I'm with the right man. You are right for me, Ethan. No one, and I do mean no one, has ever taken better care of me than you have, and, I know that you wanted this to be perfect, and it was. Please don't take that from me." Emily pauses to kiss me before she finishes.
"My first time could have gone so many ways, but it didn't. It was with someone that loves me, and who I love."
I can't help the sheepish smile that spreads across my lips. I decide Emily is so wise and mature and right. It was perfect - because it was us.
"I really like the third one we looked at."
"I do, too, but the second one had a gym, remember?"
Emily and I sit at the dinner table looking over brochures. We spent the day looking for an apartment in a better neighborhood with more amenities and a much higher monthly payment.
I'm a little concerned about finances, but Emily assures me we will be all right. She's getting her schooling paid for on a Pell Grant and working 25-30 hours a week, which is a big contribution. And me...well, I'm the new Assistant Manager for Ball's Grocer. That may not be a big deal for most people, but to me it's everything. I've never had a need to be in charge of anyone or anything. I just wanted to take care of myself, lay low and live one day at a time.
However, Margie just wouldn't let it go. She promoted me to cashier and kept on me. She was always in my ear talking about providing for my family. At first, I was defensive because I didn't have a family, but the more Margie talked, the more I realized she was right. Emily was my family, and maybe someday we could add to that. When the opportunity came up last week for an assistant manager position, Margie was there telling me to get my ass in gear and apply. She coached me through the interview process and helped me write a resume. I insisted that a cashier didn't need a resume, but she wouldn't let it go, and I'm glad she didn't.
"So if we get the one with the gym, are you going to become one of those gym rats? Always workin' out and flexing their muscles for the chicas?" While Emily wasn't one to get upset about me doing stuff without her, she still had a bit of a jealous streak. She says that girls used to leave me alone because I gave off some vibe, but now that we were together, Emily insists that other women thought they now had a chance.
If they only knew. My head hadn't turned toward another woman since the day I met Emily and that wouldn't change in the foreseeable future.
"Well, I was just thinking - " Emily looked down, unsure of what she was about to say. I hated it when she did that. I reached for her hand, cupping it in mine to encourage her to go on.
"I know that the gym on site is a big plus, but it's only a one-bedroom. The other one is a two-bedroom, and it's close to that elementary school." She turned red, blushing furiously.
"Yeah, but what would we need a second bedroom for?" I had to admit, while not necessary, it would be good for Emily to have her own area for studying.
"Well, it would be good as an office...and maybe someday, a bedroom..."
"I guess we could use a guest room, but we never have guests, Emily, so I'm not sure what the benefit would really be."
Yeah, I know, I'm an idiot.
"That's not what I meant - " but she didn't need to finish. As I flipped through the brochure, I saw a picture of a couple with a toddler. The tagline was promoting the family friendly atmosphere.
"Yeah, I think you're right. The two-bedroom is our best bet."
Vacant Chapter 16 Emily
This has to be perfect. Ethan is the most amazing man, and I don't want to disappoint him. So everything has to be flawless. Margie has been a huge help, though, and I don't think I could have - or would have - done this without her.
Sometimes I'm so out of my element with this whole love and relationship thing. I know Ethan has more experience, but still... I want him to know how much he means to me. Margie had me over for a girl's night where we watched what she called "chick licks." She insisted that the surest way to be able to pull off the perfect anniversary was to see examples of perfect love on the big screen, or a forty-two inch, anyway.
We started brainstorming and came up with a plan; a pretty good one if I do say so myself. Now I just have to make sure I don't mess it up. So here I am, standing in the middle of our living room in a new black and pink lace lingerie set and enough lit candles that I may, in fact, set off a smoke alarm.
Of course, Ethan has seen me in much less that bra and panties, but these seem...dirty somehow. Because of the purpose for which they are intended, the pink and black lace seems obscene. I hadn't wanted to get the "tonga" cut, but Margie insisted it was the look needed for the occasion. I'm more of a cotton brief kind of girl. All the panties we looked through were so small... and in bright lacy colors, nor did they seem practical. I really hope Ethan doesn't expect fancy panties all the time because I cannot see the practicality of wearing this style on a daily basis. Particularly if one has to frequently bend or stoop
