Man vs. Durian

by Jackie Lau

  But surely everything was good at the beginning with Stephen, right? It’s just hard to remember when all I can think of is the end.

  I can’t imagine Peter acting the way my ex did, but I haven’t known him for long enough to say that for sure, have I? I have lots of experience with men treating me well for a long time before showing their true colors. Why should I think Peter is any different?

  He just is. There are good men in the world.

  But why would one of those good men want to be with a failed software developer who isn’t exactly good-natured? Those men don’t go for women like you.

  My mind is at war with itself.

  A couple comes in with three kids, including a toddler who’s screaming her head off, and oh my God, I can’t deal with this right now.

  Partly because when I look at these kids, I imagine Peter and me with our own kids. The thought is not unpleasant, and that scares the crap out of me.

  I can’t wait until this day is over.

  * * *

  “How’s it going with your fake boyfriend?” Sarah asks.

  Sarah, Chloe and I are having bubble tea after finishing work on Sunday. The tea shop is called The Lodge, and Chloe described its décor as “Canadian hipster,” which I think is appropriate. The place is somewhat reminiscent of a hunting lodge, and their logo is a moose. The servers are wearing flannel.

  Frankly, I think it’s pretentious as shit, but my genmaicha latte with tapioca is good.

  “Peter is great,” I say, “and it’s not fake anymore.”

  Chloe sips her tea. “You don’t sound enthusiastic.”

  “It’s too good to be true!” I blurt out.

  “Nah, you just found a good guy. You think you can’t have what Drew and I have? What Josh and Sarah have?”

  “Well...no.”

  “Why not?” Sarah asks.

  “Because you two are nice! I’m not.”

  Chloe chuckles. “Yes, you are.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Val, why do you think we’ve been friends for so long? We wouldn’t be friends if I didn’t like you. Why don’t you think Peter can feel the same way?”

  “You know why.”

  Chloe knows the whole story, though Sarah doesn’t. It happened before I met her, and I haven’t felt like filling her in on the details. I want to talk about it as little as possible.

  “I understand why you think this way,” Chloe says slowly, “but please don’t throw this away. When you’re not worrying that it’s too good to be true, you seem happy, and he treats you better than Stephen ever did, even at the beginning.”

  “Do you think?”

  She nods.

  But when I started going out with Stephen, it was soon after Chloe’s mother died, and I’m not convinced Chloe truly remembers.

  “It can’t last,” I say. “It just can’t.”

  “Don’t think about the future,” Sarah says. “Just enjoy it for now and see where it takes you.”

  “Last time I was caught off-guard because I hadn’t been paying attention. I’m not making that mistake again. I have my eyes wide open. And I can’t help thinking that there must be something more to Peter, something he’s not telling me.”

  I have another sip of my genmaicha latte and suck a tapioca pearl up through the thick straw. The roasted brown rice in genmaicha gives it a unique flavor, and I’ve always liked it.

  “I can believe in love for other people,” I say quietly, “just not for me.”

  Chloe reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Valerie.”

  I shake my head. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.

  “You know what we should do?” Chloe says, upbeat. “We should have a triple date.”

  “Yes!” Sarah says. “Wouldn’t that be fun? I’m dying to meet Peter.”

  “And I haven’t spent much time with him, either,” Chloe says. “We can get to know him a little better and give him our opinion. What do you think?”

  “Alright.” It does sound rather fun, I admit. “Maybe on Friday?”

  “Pretty sure Drew has no plans,” Chloe says.

  “I’ll check with Josh,” Sarah says. “Then I’ll come up with a restaurant and make reservations.”

  The conversation turns to our pie à la mode specials, which are served both at Ginger Scoops and Happy as Pie on Saturdays. Sarah and Chloe debate whether serving the pear ginger crumble pie with ginger ice cream would be too gingery, and, of course, they decide they have to try it first.

  I smile and laugh, and I roll my eyes at the hipster-ness of the bubble tea shop and imagine bringing Peter here. We’d have a good time together, as we always do.

  Okay, for now, I will try not to worry about where this is going.

  But I suspect it will be impossible to banish my fears completely.

  Chapter 19

  Peter

  Valerie looks gorgeous tonight. She’s wearing a red shirt and tight dark jeans, and when she laughs at something her friend Sarah says, it makes me grin.

  We’re on a triple date with two of her friends and their boyfriends, at a restaurant in North York. It specializes in food from one of the northern Chinese provinces, and there’s lots of lamb on the menu. Josh and Sarah ordered for the table, and now we’re waiting for our food to arrive.

  “So, what do you do?” I ask Josh.

  Sarah laughs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Josh is a CEO.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Oh?”

  I rarely feel insecure about what I do for a living. I make okay money, and I don’t mind the work. It suits me.

  But Valerie’s friend is apparently dating a CEO, and that makes me feel just a touch...

  Insecure, yeah.

  Josh doesn’t fit my image of a CEO. For one, I always imagine them wearing suits, but I suppose even important people can take a little time off, in between making lots of money and ordering people around.

  “You seem a little young for that,” I say. I’d guess he’s a few years older than me, but not much.

  He shrugs. “We do mobile app development and custom software.”

  Now he’s piqued my interest. “You must have a bunch of software developers working for you.”

  “Of course.”

  I swing my gaze to Valerie, who shifts uncomfortably in her seat. I desperately want to know what pushed her away from her career, but now is not the time.

  “How did you two meet?” I ask Josh and Sarah.

  Sarah turns a little pink. “He, um, came into my shop one day, and he liked my pies. No, that’s not innuendo. Later, he asked me to cater a Pi Day party for him, and that’s how we started spending time together.”

  “Cool.” I like hearing people’s how-we-met stories. They’re always fun. “You know, I went to a friend’s wedding in the summer, and he had a pie buffet. I think it was done by Happy As Pie.”

  “Was this Caitlin and Wes’s wedding?”

  “Yes! Wes and I play hockey together.”

  “You play hockey?” Valerie asks.

  “For fun, yeah. I’m not that great. But it’s taught me just how badly hockey equipment can stink, and that’s still a hell of a lot better than durian.” I wink at her.

  “I’m told that’s how you met,” Josh says. “You weren’t watching where you were going, and you ran into Valerie when she was carrying a durian ice cream cone.”

  “That’s right,” Valerie says.

  “Hold on a second,” I say. “You’ve got this wrong. Yes, I wasn’t paying attention because I was looking at my phone. My dad had just texted me to ask if I’d been to a nudist beach, because he and my mom wanted to go.”

  “Your parents went to a nudist beach?” Josh asks in surprise.

  “Shh. The less said about that, the better. Though it’s perhaps less disturbing than the fact that my mother occasionally poses nude for art classes.”

  “Your mom poses nude?” Valerie splutters.

  “So I’m told.�
��

  “Good for her,” Chloe says. “For being comfortable with her body.”

  “Yeah, it’s great. Just wonderful. If she weren’t my mother.”

  Josh howls.

  “Back to our how-we-met story,” I say. “I was standing on the sidewalk—and true, I was kind of in the way—but Valerie wasn’t looking where she was going, and she barged into me. Of course, since I had durian ice cream on me, I took off my shirt—”

  “Only sensible,” Josh murmurs.

  “—and she invited me into Ginger Scoops to get cleaned up, and then she gave me free ice cream and asked if I wanted to be her fake boyfriend.”

  “Yes,” Valerie says, “it went something like that.”

  “What about you two?” I turn to Chloe.

  “Oh, Drew would take his niece into Ginger Scoops. He was hard to forget because he always ordered black coffee and talked about how he hated ice cream.”

  “Are you lactose intolerant?” I ask.

  “No,” he says. “My ex wrote that Embrace Your Inner Ice Cream Sandwich book, and it turned me off ice cream.”

  “You’re dating a woman who owns an ice cream shop, and you hate ice cream?”

  “Hated. Past tense,” Chloe clarifies. “He likes it now.”

  The lamb skewers arrive. Valerie eagerly picks one up and starts eating the lamb off the metal skewer, and I’m so mesmerized by her mouth that I almost forget to eat my own food.

  But eventually I do, and it is indeed delicious and juicy.

  More food arrives. Fried cumin lamb with peppers and onions, hand-pulled noodles with lamb, two types of dumplings, fried lamb pancakes, braised eggplant, and some kind of crispy beef.

  I must say, Josh and Sarah did a good job ordering.

  And Valerie does a good job of slurping noodles in a way that makes me want to use her mouth for other purposes. We’re sitting across from each other, and I lean forward to put my hand on her thigh under the table.

  I like spending time with Valerie’s friends, but I can’t wait to get her alone and take off that little red shirt. Sure, I might not be a big success like Josh, but I can give her what she needs and deserves.

  I frown as I remember the questions Aaron and Leo raised, then push them aside and focus on my girlfriend once more. I’m simply going to be here in this moment with her and enjoy it for all that it is.

  * * *

  When we get to my parents’ house after dinner, Biscuit runs up to me and barks. I take her out for a few minutes, and then, at last, it’s Valerie and me, all alone.

  I hoist her up in my arms and carry her to the guest bedroom. Immediately, I set to work on her clothes. I pull off her shirt, which looks great on her, but it looks even better on the floor. I unclasp her bra to reveal her breasts, their peaks standing at attention. She squirms.

  God, I love seeing how she needs me.

  I rub my erection against her through our jeans, and she squirms even more. Then she removes my shirt and jeans.

  “In a rush for something?” I ask.

  I roll onto my side as she slips her hand inside my boxers, and I hiss out a breath when she touches me. Her lower lip is trembling; I suck it between my teeth.

  I love how responsive she is.

  I slide my hand inside her panties and run my finger along her slit. “I’m gonna fuck you real good tonight,” I say. “Real good.”

  The first time we did it, we talked more, so I could understand what she needed. She was embarrassed about what she needed to come, but it didn’t bother me. Everyone requires something a little different. All I want is to please her in bed, however that might happen, and I think I’m doing a pretty good job.

  Maybe someday, I’ll find a way to bring her to orgasm without a vibrator, and I’m happy to spend lots of time trying. But the last thing she needs is pressure, especially with a new guy.

  Once I tear off the rest of our clothes, I roll on top of her. I press the length of my naked body along hers; that always makes her whimper in pleasure. When I slip my hand between her legs again, she’s wet for me, and I fucking love it. I push my finger into her a few times and curl it upwards, and she takes hold of my cock and pumps up and down.

  Just touching each other like this—it’s amazing. Her hand wrapped around me...

  Dear God.

  I slide my finger into my mouth to taste her, and her eyes widen. I lick my thumb before moving it back between her legs, fingering her as I rub her clit.

  One of the things I’ve learned about her? She loves being fingered like this.

  She lets go of my cock so she can clutch the sheets, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

  I kiss her. I have to kiss her, this woman who is unraveling beneath me. When I lick her bottom lip, she opens for me, lets my tongue tangle with hers as I continue to stroke her.

  “Yes,” she groans against my mouth.

  I slide down the bed so my mouth is between her legs, and I continue to stroke my finger in and out of her as I lick over her entrance and up to her clit. She bucks her hips against me, and I smile, my face buried in her pussy. I add a second finger, and she grabs a handful of my hair and holds me there between her legs.

  As if I would go anywhere.

  I continue to lick her, reveling in her taste, her reaction. I slide a hand lower and pump my cock a few times.

  “Peter,” she whispers, and I look up.

  I know what she wants. I grab the vibrator that she placed at the edge of the bed earlier, and I turn it on and press it to her clit. I lie next to her on my side, stroking her hair and kissing her as I watch the tension build in her body. Her fists are practically as white as the sheets, and her back bows off the bed as she’s overcome with her climax.

  She screams, as always.

  I fucking love it when she screams.

  She told me she never has the urge to scream when she’s alone, and she seemed surprised that it always happens when she’s with me.

  I can’t lie; it makes me feel damn good.

  “How was that, baby?” I murmur, kissing her hair and setting aside the vibrator. “You ready for me to fuck you?”

  She nods vigorously.

  She might swear a lot, but she seems uncomfortable talking dirty in bed—and that’s cool. She enjoys when I do it on occasion, though.

  I roll on a condom in a hurry, but not so much of a hurry that I forget to add lube. When I push inside her, she’s still shuddering from her orgasm.

  My God.

  She feels amazing.

  I undulate my hips in a steady rhythm, and I kiss her. Oh, how I kiss her.

  She kisses me back eagerly, her mouth so sweet against my own, and this, I think, is heaven. I don’t see how it could get any better than this.

  But then her pussy clenches around my cock.

  “Valerie,” I growl.

  She tilts her hips toward mine and wraps her legs around me, pushing up to meet me again and again. I take one of her nipples into my mouth and feast on it as we move in unison. Being with her is overwhelming.

  And I want her to come for me again.

  I grab the vibrator, turn it on, and press it to her clit as I push inside her, trying my best to use it just the way she showed me, but it’s hard to think straight, overwhelmed as I am with the sensation of having her around me and underneath me.

  But a moment later, she comes apart. I press my mouth to hers and swallow her scream...and I finish inside her before collapsing on my back.

  She cuddles up against me afterward. “Mm. That was so good. I feel like jelly. Like I don’t have bones anymore.”

  “That’s quite a disturbing condition. I think it merits further investigation.” I slide my hand down her leg and tap her knee. “Hmm. Feels okay to me.”

  She laughs.

  “Can you come more than twice?” I ask.

  “Actually, today is the first time I’ve ever had multiple orgasms. It’s only happened with you.”

  “If you keep this up, I’m goi
ng to have an inflated ego.”

  “Perhaps I should examine your ego.”

  For some reason, this involves studying my abs. She presses on them and scrapes her fingers over them. “Seems okay to me. No signs of swelling.”

  “You make a great doctor, darling.”

  “So do you.”

  She kisses my cheek, then rolls to the left side of the bed—her side—and falls asleep. I brush my hand over her arm, thinking that there’s nowhere else in the universe I’d rather be.

  Soon, I join her in slumber.

  Chapter 20

  Peter

  Saturday morning, I wake up to Valerie nuzzling my nose.

  Although she prefers that we sleep on separate sides of the bed, once she’s awake, she’ll shift over to my side and snuggle up against me. We’ve spent the night together a few times so far, and even though it hasn’t been long, I know this will never get old.

  “Hey, Val,” I say, my eyes still closed.

  Wait a second. Valerie smells kind of funny. And why is her nose wet?

  I crack open an eye.

  It’s Biscuit.

  The dog wags her tail when I sit up. I glance at the other side of the bed, where Valerie is lying, her breathing telling me that she’s still asleep.

  I sigh. “Alright, Biscuit. I’ll take you outside. Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

  Biscuit and I head downstairs, and after she does her business outside, I take a short video of her and post it on Instagram.

  When I get back upstairs, Valerie is on her back, stretching her hands above her head.

  I shed my clothes in a flash and climb back in with her, curling my body around hers. It’s eight o’clock, so we still have time before she has to get ready for work.

  “Good morning,” I say.

  “Morning.” Her voice is heavy with sleep.

  We stay in bed together for a while, idly touching each other here and there. I close my eyes, but sleep doesn’t overtake me; I just enjoy this moment with her. Her body pressed against mine is perfection.