by Jesse Jordan
“No, I'm fine,” I reassure her. “Are you sure you're not a mother already, Tran? You got the worrying instinct down cold.”
“That's just the Vietnamese side coming out, my mom back home would have had you already in bed with a hot cup of bun bo hue broth, trying to sweat the cold out of you,” Tran says, getting her things together. “Jewish mothers can say what they want, but nobody beats the Vietnamese in worrying about their children and friends.”
I'm touched, and give Tran a smile “Thankfully for me, your mom's back in Ho Chi Minh City. You need a ride?”
Tran looks me over and shakes her head. “Not as much as you need to get out of that dress and into some jammies and get some sleep. I'll call Vicki, she'll pick me up, no problem.”
While Tran calls her host mother, I strip out of my date clothes and toss them in the hamper, my fingers still shaking. I nearly lose my balance when I unhook my bra and the lace edge of the right cup brushes over my nipple, and I can't help but whimper slightly. Aroused? Flushed? I might as well be screaming FUCK ME, PLEASE! I'm so turned on. Telling Rocky ‘no’ and leaving his apartment after his fingers molded themselves to my breast after his lips were on mine? Almost impossible. I finally had the man of my dreams right there and my hand cupping the hard bulge of his cock through his jeans, and I walked away. It's the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life outside of giving birth.
My body isn't any calmer when I finish pulling on my sleep clothes, a plain black tee and some flannel cotton shorts that are soft but still breathable. Good any time for California nights, but right now all I can feel is the thump of my heart and the wetness between my legs. I come out of the bedroom after glancing at Bella, she's okay. I head to the bathroom where I quickly pull my vibrator out of my makeup kit and slip it into the pocket of my shorts, I know I can't help it tonight. Tran's in the living room, her stuff in her bag, and she smiles when I dig out the money for her. “Thanks, Cora. Bella was a darling as always. I taught her some Vietnamese, so if she starts saying strange stuff, she's not cursing at you or anything.”
“Thanks, and thank you for coming over despite the short notice,” I reply, my hand still trembling. “Good luck with your tests tomorrow.”
“And you good luck with getting some rest,” Tran says, concerned. There's a quick beep outside, and Tran looks out the door. “Oh, that's Vicki. See you, Cora.”
Tran disappears out the door and I close it, leaning my head against the wood, taking a deep shuddering breath. Our last kiss was nearly an hour ago, and I'm still so ready to come that I have to stagger to the couch, my mind already filling with the fantasies of what I wanted tonight.
“You know, you don't have to be Cinderella,” Rocky whispers, his thumb moving in slow circles on top of my breast, the electric touch leaving me reeling.
“You're right,” I whisper back, reaching up and undoing the tie on his ponytail, kissing his cheek before nibbling on his ear. The slight stubble he's got rasps against my cheek, adding to the burn inside my body as his hands wrap around me, pulling me closer to him. “But I do want to come by midnight.”
Rocky kisses the curve of my neck and shoulder as he lifts my skirt, pulling me into his lap and letting me plant my knees on either side of his body, my pussy already rubbing against the bulge in his pants. “I want more than a princess. I want you.”
“You've always had me,” I reassure him, grabbing his hair and pushing his head back to look into his eyes. “You always will have me.”
The tug on his hair makes sparks flare up in Rocky's eyes, and he grins, slapping my ass through my panties and making us both jump. My pussy is on fire, and suddenly we're clawing, tugging at each other's clothes to be able to feel skin on skin contact. Rocky rips the blouse from my upper body, buttons pinging as they bounce off the wall in front of me, the strap of my bra snapping before my upper body is bared to Rocky, whose shirt I've managed to rip open. Rocky pulls me to him, his lips sucking hard on my left nipple and making my head spin while I grind on the bulge in his pants, my pussy throbbing with every nip and lick of his tongue on the hard nub.
When I'm on the edge of coming, I push back, shaking my head as I slide down Rocky's body and grab his belt. I'm wanton, desperate as I open his belt and then slide the zipper down on his pants, freeing the cock that I've dreamed about for years. He's thick and perfect, and my mouth waters as I drag my tongue up from the base all the way to the tip, swirling my tongue around while he looks at me in half amazement, half amusement. I lick his underside again and smile. “What? Thought I was too cutie-pie to want to suck your cock?”
“I think you’re beautiful no matter what,” Rocky replies, reaching down and taking my hair in his hand, brushing it out of my face and giving him a clear view. “As for cock sucking... I want to watch.”
He holds my hair back, and I vow to always wear my ponytail just like this as I swallow Rocky's cock, sucking him all the way in until my lips meet the light curls at the base before pulling back. I worship his cock, licking and sucking with as much adoration as I can, looking him in the eyes the whole time, trying to let him understand how I feel about him, how I've always felt about him. His cock is delicious, tangy and manly and everything I could have hoped. He pulls me off, lifting me in his arms and taking my skirt, pulling my panties to the side, we're both too hot to worry about the niceties now.
“This is what I need,” Rocky groans as I feel him align himself with my pussy. I sink down, my heart and brain exploding in sheets of bluish-white pleasure as Rocky fills me, giving me what I've always wanted. I'm sobbing in pleasure already when I settle onto him, my body already racked with convulsions. “What is it?”
“Rocky... I love you,” I whisper, stroking his face with my fingertips. “I've loved you for years. And this... I love you.”
“I love you too, Cora,” Rocky replies softly, stroking my back. “I didn't realize it... but I've loved you for years too. I... I need you.”
We move, each stroke of his cock in and out as I ride him is exactly the right pace, not too fast, not too slow, our bodies and hearts becoming one. Rocky's green eyes burn into mine as we make love, the feel of his cock sliding in and out of my pussy, my clit rubbing against the base of his cock each time I bury myself on him adding to the waves of pleasure and happiness that roll through me. Our hands wrap in each other's hair, pulling us closer and closer as my orgasm builds inside me.
This is more than the little fantasies that I had as a girl. I'm a woman now, and I give everything of that womanhood to Rocky, my hips moving faster and faster until I'm trembling, my pussy squeezing and milking him with every inch that he fills me open with, desperate for release. Rocky understands and starts thrusting up from the couch, the slap of his hips meeting mine, sending sparks into the depths of my belly, the fire catching and building quickly. I want to cry out how much I love him, I want to tell him about Bella, about the daughter I wish was his, but there's not enough air left in my lungs. I can only cry out as the orgasm rips through me, frightening, but Rocky's there, holding me close as he comes, filling me with his essence and keeping me safe, protected...
“I love you,” I whisper as my fantasy shreds like wet tissue paper, clouds torn by the breeze. I'm still twitching, my body still shivering from the power of my orgasm as I switch off my vibrator and slide it out of my body, setting it beside me on the couch. I know I should get up and clean it, but I'm too drained.
In the past, after a fantasy of Rocky this powerful, I'd cry. But this time it's different. Sure, my body still wants him. But I could see it in his eyes, he wants me too. And while we didn't say that we love each other, we're taking steps. This isn't some schoolgirl fantasy anymore. This is real. And I'll take a slightly slower real life over an impossible schoolgirl fantasy any day.
It's lunchtime, and Bella's happily eating when my phone rings and I see that it's Mom. “Hey, Mom, how's it going?”
“I should be asking you the same thing,” Mom says with a warm chu
ckle. “How was your date?”
I blink and glance over at Bella, who's still eating, so I get up and go back to the back of the apartment, sitting down on my toilet and closing the door. “Uh, Mom, what are you talking about?”
“You obviously have been staying off the Internet this morning,” Mom says with a laugh in her voice. “I can't blame you, I mean the website is pretty much nothing but rumors and scandal trash, but you might want to check out LACelebWatch. You're on the front page, one of my friends from work just called me to double check if that was who she thought it was.”
“Hold on,” I say, going into the living room and grabbing my laptop before taking it to the back. Bella glances up, and I shake my head. “Grandma just has some things she and I need to talk about. Hey, after this, you want to go to the park?”
“Yeah!” Bella, who loves the park, says. “When?”
“Gimme fifteen minutes, sweetie. Just enough time for you to wash your face and brush your teeth,” I remind her. I help her in the mornings and at night, but since she’s been learning how to brush her own teeth at daycare, we keep up that practice after lunch when we're at home, too. “No toothpaste this time, remember.”
“I know Mommy,” Bella says, in that tone of voice that says she thinks her mother is being a total worry wart. After all, she's going to be turning four in a few months, she's a big girl now. “Can I wear my monkey t-shirt?”
“Of course, you can, it's Saturday,” I reply, referring to her favorite slightly outgrown t-shirt. It's a little too small for her to wear to daycare anymore, but it's just fine for the park before it gets demoted to just a sleep shirt or gets donated to Goodwill. “Now, let me talk with Grandma.”
In the bedroom, I pull up LACelebWatch and look. Fallen Angel Rocky Blake with New Flame? the headline reads, and underneath there are three photos. One from the door of the restaurant, another taken with what looks like a telephoto lens of us on the balcony from behind, and another on the beach, our bodies close together and while we aren't outright kissing, we're quite close. “Huh...”
“Yeah, huh,” Mom jokes. “So... how was it?”
“Mom!” I protest, then sigh. Mom's never had a problem being forthright with me about my dating life. I guess that's what I get for being honest with her about Duane and my pregnancy, and I'll take having a too nosy mother over not having the support she and Dad have given me any day of the week. “Fine, Rocky was a perfect gentleman. We had a nice dinner and a walk on the beach. He invited me up for a nightcap, and I left in enough time to get back home to make sure my babysitter got back to her place in time to get some sleep for the SATs this morning.”
“Really...” Mom says, and I can hear in her voice a thousand questions. Nosy she is, but she's also discreet in what she asks me. “And this date, was it business or pleasure?”
“I wasn't sure at first, but it quickly moved towards us maybe going past being friends,” I admit. “And yes, we kissed on the beach. And at his place. That's it though. Like I said, he was a gentleman. When I said I needed to get home, he called me a cab at my request and even earned himself a kiss at the door of the taxi.”
Mom chuckles, and I realize I was worried more than I should have been. “Honey, if he wasn't a gentleman, the headline would have read Rock Star Gets His Balls Torn Off by Date, I know how strong you've become since Bella's birth. So, I'm not exactly worried about that. Did you tell him about Bella?”
“No, not yet Mom. Honestly, I wanted to by the end, but we were both a little too... on edge to drop that sort of piece of information on him. I was thinking of doing that next time. I just don't want her being pulled into the music industry too quickly,” I tell her, shutting down the website. The copy is nothing but rumor and innuendo, although I'd like to take our server and kick him in the nuts, he got our food orders down perfectly. Guess it's my welcome to celeb life.
“I understand, honey. Bella's a sweet little girl, but... and I'm just asking as a concerned grandmother, is Rocky the sort of guy that would be good for Bella? I mean, if even a tenth of the things he's been written up for are true, I'm concerned,” Mom says, and I lean back against the headboard, nodding. Mom's just giving voice to the same worries I've had ever since seeing Rocky. Being an anonymous board monkey, or even a well-known producer, is safe in Los Angeles. And except for keeping Bella safe from some of the entourage that some artists bring with them, my life could be quiet and safe for her.
But being the girlfriend (or more) of a rock star? That's a whole new level of celebrity that will eventually bring Bella into the light as well. And I don't want her in the limelight, at least not the way that so many celebrities drag their kids around. Their children become accessories. Pampered for the benefit of the cameras and press, never mind what the child needs. Such as the aforementioned Lemondrop, who comes to daycare with a Burberry backpack, a paleo lactose-free organic lunchbox packed by a private chef who used to have a show on Food Network, designer clothes... and that's just the beginning. Meanwhile, my daughter shows up with food from the Safeway down the street from us, wrapped in a plastic bag that last week was the bag our bread came in.
“Mom... thanks for the head's up, but I'm not quite ready to think about all this. I do know, though, that Rocky's a good man. We've been working together again for a few weeks now, I'd see if he's changed a lot from the guy that I went to high school with. Don't worry about that part,” I finally say. “The rest... well, I'll think about it.”
“Whatever happens, I love you, sweetheart,” Mom says. “So, think I can talk you into coming to dinner tomorrow night? Nate would love to be able to play with his granddaughter, and I promise you the best food I can crunch together in time.”
“Hmmmm...” I mock consider, then laugh. “Of course, Mom. Just promise me that you're not going to slip a bag of goodies into the back seat of my car this time.”
Mom laughs, and I can't help it, I can't be angry with her. “Okay, but I make no promises on there not being a big dessert that I'll need to send home with Bella in a Tupperware.”
“I can live with that. In the meantime, I'm going to take my daughter to the park. I think I'll even ride my bike, it'll work off a little of that whatever it is you're going to fill me up with.”
Mom and I say goodbye, and I go out to find Bella already changed, her monkey t-shirt already on, her shoes on but untied, she's still working on them. “Hey Bella, Mommy had an idea. How about we ride my bike down to the park instead of taking the car?”
“Okay,” Bella says, going over and grabbing her helmet. “Are we out of gas?”
I stop, blinking back the sudden tears, remembering when we biked because I was dead broke and couldn’t afford gas. “No honey. Actually, I hope that we never have to ride the bike for that reason ever again. I just thought it was a nice day, and I'd like to ride my bike for some exercise. And the wind will feel nice, that's all.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Bella says, getting my helmet down and holding it out to me. “Here Mommy, always stay safe, right?”
“Right,” I reply, smiling. I get Bella buckled into her bike seat and start off towards the big park about two miles away that has the kiddie slides and other playground equipment that Bella likes best. Still, as I pedal, I think about what Bella said. Staying safe. Does staying safe mean that I can't have Rocky involved in my personal life? After seeing the scandal sheet, I'm a little worried. Are we really from two separate worlds now, too far apart to make it work?
I hope not, but inside me that little worry keeps nipping at me, saying that maybe so.
Rocky
I wake up to the sound of someone knocking on my door, and I'm jolted awake, wondering who the hell it is. Probably the Jehovah's Witnesses. They came by about a month ago. I turn over on the couch where I slept, pulling the cushion over my head. “Fuck off, I don't want none!”
The knock comes again, this time louder, and I get up, momentarily thinking I should have slept in something besides my underwear. I was t
oo tired and screwed up last night after the freezing shower to do much more than to grab my underwear off the floor and then collapse on the couch, and right now I look particularly grungy. To hell with it, if some door to door salesman, JW, or whoever else wants to disturb me at.... okay, 8:23 in the morning isn't too bad, but still... if they want to wake me up, they can look at me in just my day-old briefs.
“What the hell do you want, can't you hear that I don't...” I start to rant as I open my front door, only to see Martha standing there in probably the most casual outfit I've ever seen her in, jeans and a sleeveless blouse. “You're dressed down.”
“Still more dressed than you,” she replies, pointing to my undies. “By the way, your lead guitarist is hanging out a little.”
I look down and see that after last night's cold shower, and not changing into fresh clothes afterward, I do seem to have slid out the side of my briefs a little, and I tuck myself back in. “Yeah well, what are you doing here anyway?”
“I know where you live Rocky, even if I've never been invited here before,” Martha says, following me in uninvited as I turn and go inside. To hell with it, she's already seen my cock, she can see my ass too as I head into the bedroom, dropping my briefs and kicking them towards my hamper. Thankfully, she at least stays in the hallway while I grab a fresh pair of undies and some shorts from my dresser. “You know, if you want to keep yourself out of the tabloids, I'd advise you to take an extra minute to start sleeping in a full set of clothes.”
“Not with the heating and air in this place, I'd bake to death in July,” I gripe. Looking in my dresser drawer, I grab a workout tank and pull it on as well, I might as well use my time today to do something useful. “What brings you here this fucking early anyway? I figured that I'd be paying you back on Monday.”
