Underestimated u-1

by Jettie Woodruff

  “I think you will. Don’t worry about that. I think you are trying too hard. Just let it come on its own.”

  “You said that we have been married for almost eight years.”

  “Yes. We will be married eight years in June. Why?”

  “June what?” I asked. I really did want to know that.

  “June 4th.”

  “My birthday is June 4th. That means that we got married the day that I turned eighteen, right?”

  He smiled a nervous smile and nodded.

  “Where did we meet?”

  “I came to your school when you were seventeen and did a seminar on success and donated some money. You were the prettiest girl in that school,” he smiled. “I told you then that I was going to marry you. I would sneak back there, and we would spend weekends together and as soon as you graduated and turned eighteen I came and took you away.”

  “We got married the same day?”

  “Yes, but that was all your idea. I had nothing to do with that. I think you wanted to make sure that no one else claimed me.”

  “How old are you?” I kept the conversation going. Some of it I wanted to know and some of it were irrelevant.

  “31, what’s with all the questions?”

  I took a deep breath and pushed my half eaten salad away. “I don’t know. You just have no idea what it’s like, not to know who you are or where you came from. I remember some things but don’t know why I remember them.

  “Like what?” Drew wanted to know.

  “Like my birthday. I know when I was born, but not when I got married. I remember books that I have read and songs. You said that I would have never been caught dead dressed like this. Did my personality change too?”

  “Your personality did change from what I remember too.”

  “Like how?”

  “Well, like I said before. You would have never been as bold as you were earlier today. You didn’t wear flannel pants or go barefoot. You would have never barged into my office the way you do now, which by the way, I do not like.”

  I smiled even though I knew he was serious. I placed my hand on his forearm, and he looked down at it, almost confused.

  “Thank you for being here for me,” I said, looking at him with half a grin.

  He didn’t answer and only smiled.

  Drew excused himself to go finish up some work after supper. I was working on a plan. I didn’t know why. Maybe because I wanted him to come back to my room and do to me what he had earlier. He was rather good at it, and I felt myself throb at the thought of it.

  I walked around outside until almost dark, thinking and contemplating my life. I wondered why I had called myself Riley earlier. Who the hell was Riley? It was someone that I knew at some point. I was sure of it, but was it me? Why did I think that? Did Riley have something to do with Dawson? Why couldn’t I just remember?

  I wasn’t sure where the cameras in my room were, but I was sure they were there. I didn’t look for them and undressed, trying to do it as I always did, not wanting Drew to think that I was onto him. I took off my jeans, my shirt and my bra and left my panties. I walked over to the window and moved the curtain. I stood looking out, pretending to be lost in an unknown world. I was, but that wasn’t what I was thinking about at the time. I was thinking about trying to get Drew to come to my room. I wanted to make sure my intuitions were right although I was pretty sure that they were.

  I ran my finger along my back and lightly through the lace of my panties. I could picture Drew sitting at his desk watching me. I closed my eyes and leaned against the frame of the window, running my fingers over my stomach and up to my breast. I could feel my panties becoming damp. I knew that it was the fascination of Drew watching me. I must be a sick individual. Did I have some sort of sex fetish? I didn’t care at that time. I had a goal to achieve.

  As I slid my fingers through the lace of my panties and to the wet creases of my sex, I wondered about something else. When did I start shaving down there? Had I always kept it smooth? I moaned and knew that whether Drew appeared or not, I was going to climax. I brought my left leg up to the chair in front of me and moaned as I inserted one finger, dragging it back to my swollen clitoris.

  I turned my head toward the door when it opened, smiling inside, but keeping a somber face as I saw the shocked expression on Drew’s face. I would have loved to know what was going through his mind seeing me with my legged cocked on the chair with my fingers in my panties.

  “What are you doing?” he asked in a husky tone, walking toward me.

  I dropped my leg and turned my back to him. “Don’t you ever knock?” I asked, using his words.

  “Had I known what I was walking into, I would have.”

  Lying son of a bitch…

  He was close. I could feel the heat from his body. I could smell him, but I didn’t turn around. I did stop the movement of my hand but didn’t remove it. I gasped when I felt his hands slide down my hips, removing my panties. He ran his hands over my bare ass.

  I tilted my head, beckoning him to kiss my neck. He did. His hot breath on my neck and shoulder sent an exciting chill straight to my vagina.

  “Do you remember me spanking you?” he rasped. “You used to beg for me to do that.”

  “I did,” I asked. I was a sick individual.

  “You did. Do you know what else you liked?” he asked as his fingers traveled to my wet folds from behind, stopping at my puckering anus.

  “I have a feeling I know the answer to that one,” I admitted as I felt his finger penetrate me.

  “Do you want me to spank you, Morgan?” He asked.

  “Yes,” I replied, barely above a whisper. I would have done anything the man told me to do at that moment.

  I watched as Drew removed his clothes. He was hard as iron, and I wanted to taste him.

  “Come here, Morgan,” he demanded, and like a puppet on a string, I walked to him.

  “Bend over the bed, my bad girl,” he coaxed, moving my arm to guide me.

  I didn’t like the bad girl comment, and for some reason panic was setting in, and I was afraid of him. He rubbed my bare ass softly right before I felt the first sting from his hand. I jumped.

  “Don’t move, Morgan,” he warned. I didn’t like the dark tone, but I was afraid to move. I suddenly didn’t think my idea was so great anymore. After four, blows, he was done with that and was spreading me open. I felt the head of him on my anus, but he didn’t penetrate me. I was no longer in control, he had taken it back, and I had let him. Damnit. He knew I was afraid. It’s what he wanted, what he thrived on.

  If I didn’t act soon, I was going to lose the battle that my mind and I had been working on. All of a sudden the nerve came from somewhere. I wasn’t sure where, I was just sure I needed to act on it before I lost it. I rolled over and dropped to my knees in front of him and took his hard shaft to the back of my throat. I couldn’t see the look on his face, but the rapid stiff posture told me what it said. I moaned as I took him in and out of my mouth. I looked up to him as he placed his hands over his head and let me have my way with him. I kept it up until I could tell he was losing control. I wasn’t about to let him come in my mouth.

  I kissed him up his body, and lightly tugged his nipple between my teeth. I circled his naked body, catching a glimpse of the baffled expression as I kissed his strong shoulders and back.

  “Do you know what I think, Drew?” I said in a low tone. I had the power. I was now calling the shots.

  “Hmm?” he managed to moan. I was sure that was all that he could come up with in his state.

  “I think that you are the one that liked for me to take it up the ass. Do you want to put your dick in my ass, Drew?” I asked, still standing behind him as my lips and hands explored his back.

  His head snapped back toward me. I was almost scared again when I saw the vengeful look on his face. Maybe I went a bit too far.

  I ignored it and walked in front of him keeping my back to him. I couldn’t let
him see the fear. I took his hand and guided it to between my legs and bent over in front of him, giving him permission to take me. I breathed a sigh of relief as I placed my hands on the mattress and felt him slide his dick inside of my wet pussy before moving it to where he wanted it to be. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the head slide in. He hissed as he moved in a little more. I didn’t let him stop rubbing my clitoris. I needed to keep my mind on achieving an orgasm and not what I was doing to him.

  I moaned once he was pumping in and out of me. His fingers on my swollen core kept the same rhythm of his cock sliding in and out.

  “Don’t come, Morgan,” He demanded.

  Fuck that…

  I did come. I came so hard that I had to drop to the bed as he continued to thrust frantically and finally dropping with me.

  “I told you not to come,” he said with the angry tone again.

  I didn’t care. I had won. I wasn’t afraid that time. I laughed which I am sure wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for.

  I turned over, forcing him to slide out of me. I kissed his lips softly, and then shoved my tongue into his mouth. “I guess you’ll just have to spank me again for being a bad girl,” I smirked.

  “Come with me,” I requested, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom.

  “What are you doing now?” he asked as I started the shower water.

  I turned and kissed him again. “Stop asking questions that you already know the answer to.”

  “I have my own shower,” he protested.

  “Shut up and get in here with me,” I demanded. I would have loved to hear the voices going crazy in his head. I pulled him in with me and leaned my back into his front. He was so out of his realm it was dangerous, probably more dangerous for me than him.

  I washed my hair and bathed while he stood watching me, not knowing what to do. When I turned to face him to rinse the soap from my hair, he surprised me. He pressed our wet bodies together and crushed his lips to mine. I felt weak and almost faint. I didn’t want those feelings. It was a game, and I was winning. He couldn’t make it about feelings, but there was so much passion in his kiss that was exactly what he was doing.

  I got out and dressed, letting him shower. I was sitting in bed with the covers pulled down wearing a midnight blue nighty with matching panties. I had one bare leg brought to my chest, and the other one folded under it while I brushed my hair. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me, almost like he was realizing for the first time that I was beautiful or something.

  “Come here,” I softly spoke, and just like I was now controlling his strings, he walked toward me. I actually felt the twinge between my legs again, looking at his damp body wrapped in a towel around his waist. I touched his chest with the back of my hand and looked up, urging him to kiss me. He did.

  “Stay with me tonight,” I requested softly to his lips.

  Snap. Just like that, he was grabbing his clothes and getting far away from me. Too much intimacy. “I can’t, I still have work to do. You should get some rest.”

  Drew left, and I lay down. I stared out to the dark Nevada sky as my mind began to wonder once again. I wasn’t sure if I had made things worse or better. I was more confused than ever. Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy. Maybe the vision of him hitting me was nothing more than a vision. Maybe we really could have a life together. But who was Riley? Who was Dawson? I still had so many questions, and now I was having feelings for Drew.

  Stupid brain injury.

  I didn’t want to wake up. I wanted the dream to be real. I was sick. I was in bed, and somebody was making me drink chicken broth. He kissed my head and told me that he loved me over and over. He rubbed my naked back with his strong hands and kissed my heat fevered flesh with tiny, tender kisses. He loved me, and I loved him, but it wasn’t Drew. I couldn’t see a face. Who was taking care of me? I could hear waves. They were so close. I sat straight up squeezing the satin of my nighty in two fists on my chest. I was panting and sucking in air that wasn’t there.

  “Drew,” I said in desperation as soon as I saw him enter my dark room. He was watching me sleep. I knew it. I could picture him sitting at his desk watching the camera in my room as I slept.

  He hesitated and stayed standing by my bed, not sure how to handle me. I grabbed for his t-shirt and pulled him to me. He sat down and wrapped his arms around me. Was he afraid that I was dreaming about something that he had done?

  I couldn’t get close enough to him. I needed to feel secure, but I wasn’t feeling it with him. Why?

  “Tell me why you were screaming,” he pleaded.

  I wasn’t screaming. I knew I never screamed. It wasn’t that kind of dream. He was watching me. He saw me sit up and suck in the unavailable air. I never screamed.

  “I was screaming?” I asked, burying my face into the crook of his neck.

  “Yes. How else would I have known you were having a bad dream?”

  “Lay with me, Drew,” I requested. He paused but did.

  I didn’t give him a choice but to hold me. I pressed my back to his front and took his arm, wrapping it around my body myself.

  “What was your dream about?” he asked.

  “I was sick. Somebody was taking care of me. He was making me drink chicken broth and kissing my back. I could hear waves. I was so sick, and then he left me. Was that you, Drew? Did you take care of me when I was sick? Did you leave me?”

  “I am sure that I took care of you when you were sick a time or to. Shhhh, you’re okay. Go to sleep.”

  “Drew.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Don’t leave me,” I pleaded.

  He didn’t answer, and only took a deep breath. I wanted him to kiss my hair, and tell me that he loved me the way the man in my dream did. He didn’t. He lay very still with me in his arms.

  I was awake when Drew woke in the morning. I didn’t let him know that I was awake, and stayed still, lying on his chest with both of his arms securely around me. I knew he was awake when he moved his arms from me, almost like he was afraid of me or afraid of feelings that he was having for me. I felt his head move and look down at me sleeping on his chest. I wished I could see his face. He tried to slide from beneath me. I reached for him before he could leave.

  “You said you wouldn’t leave,” I said opening my eyes, holding onto his wrist.

  He smiled back at me. “I have to work,” he said and tried to get up. I held his wrist.

  “Kiss me,” I demanded before he left.

  He looked at me with a look that I hadn’t seen from him. It wasn’t the startled, afraid of me, baffled look. It was more like he was all of a sudden terrified of me. I knew that he didn’t do intimacy. I don’t know how I knew that. I just did.

  I sat up and pulled myself across his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. His right hand went to the satin on my back, and his left hand rested on my thigh. I dropped my head to his forehead and smiled at him, landing a small kiss on the corner of his lips.

  “I don’t know who you are anymore, Morgan,” he admitted.

  I smiled. “That’s okay, I don’t know who you are either.” He smiled and laughed a short laugh.

  “I have to get ready. Derik is going to be here wondering where I am.”

  “Tell him you were making love to your wife,” I offered, getting another smile, but no response to my request.

  I moved off of him, and he thought that I was going to let him up. I didn’t and brought one leg over, straddling his waist. I took matters into my own hands and kissed him. He kissed me back with a moan. I won again. He flipped me over and took me quickly in the normal missionary style.

  “Now can I go work?” he asked, looking down at me once we were both spent.

  I traced his lips with my finger. “Yes, you can go work. Can I take your car today?” I asked as he rolled off of me.

  I could tell that he didn’t like it, but I had to get him to trust me. I had to make him know that I would come back to him every time. I would come back. I
would come back unless I found out that the dark Drew that I once knew wasn’t anything more than a figment of my imagination.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I don’t know, shopping maybe, maybe to the park and to that little Bistro café for lunch.”

  “Promise me that you will stay on this side of the city? I don’t want you in all the chaos of the strip.”

  “I promise,” I said and got up. I kissed him, and let him leave.

  I showered and felt good that morning. I blow dried my hair, parted it on the side and added loose curls. I did my makeup, my nails and toenails. I looked in the closet at the mass of clothing. I found an outfit with tags still hanging from the band. It was a short outfit that was a little fancy for my taste, well for my post brain injury taste. I didn’t know what my taste was before that. It was black satin shorts with a black sleeveless top. The shorts fit exceptionally nice and the sleeveless top was cut low in the front with bright blue trim bringing the focus to my cleavage. The front of the top was cut at a point and the back was shorter showing a little midriff. I thought I looked hot. I smiled. I put on a pair of dangling silver earrings and a wide silver and gold bracelet. I wondered where I had gotten them and wondered if Drew had bought them for me. He didn’t have to buy them. He owned them. I remembered.

  I walked down the stairs wearing a pair of black heels with a delicate strap wrapping around my ankle twice. I opened Drew’s office door, without knocking, of course. He and Derik both were going over some charts strung about his desk.

  Derik looked annoyed. Drew’s jaw dropped when he saw me.

  “I need your keys,” I said walking over to him.

  He fumbled for his keys in his pocket.

  “What the hell are you doing, Drew?” Derik asked. He didn’t want me to leave alone for some reason.

  I shot him a dirty look. Who the hell did he think he was?

  Drew placed his keys in my hand, and I kissed him. I was sure that wasn’t something that I did before either. Derik was the one picking his jaw up next.

  I started out of the office and then turned back. “Drew?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need some money,” I stated, remembering that I had an expired credit card in my purse, and that was it.