Rebound

by Rosemary Rey

  He walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. His body glistened with water drops from the shower. His long hair slicked back. He looked like a Roman God. His face showed his disappointment in me. Without thinking, I pulled off my nightgown and walked up to his body. I reached up, placing my hand around his neck, bringing his mouth to mine and I kissed him. He tried to resist, not returning my affection, until my hands glided down his body. He shivered underneath my touch. I wrapped my fingers on his towel, pulling it off of his body and let it fall to the floor. His kisses became more fervent, as my hand cupped his sack, a full erection awaited me. He moaned into my mouth. I stroked his cock, touching the head with my thumb, feeling the juices of his arousal.

  I wanted to taste him, pulling away from him and dropped to my knees. I took his cock into my mouth, sucking him as I drove him in and out. My hand stroked him as I sucked. I gently squeezed his sack. It was a sequence of maneuvers to give him pleasure and reassurance that I wanted him and only him. I licked the underside of his cock, and took him back into my mouth, attempting to take him as deep as possible, getting closer each time.

  His groans and moans of pleasure with each bob of my mouth let me know that he was enjoying my ministrations. I tried to deep throat him and again, succeeding in getting my lips to the root. He yelled, “Fuck!” And I knew he was close to coming. I stroked him faster as I bobbed and suckled. “I’m gonna come, babe.” He said to alert me, but his hands on my head urged me to continue. I had no intention of stopping. I kept working him until I tasted the salty cream that spurted into my mouth. I swallowed and licked him clean as he came down from his orgasm.

  He pulled me up by the arms, and picked me up in a bear hug. Our naked bodies pressed together. “I would never do anything to dishonor you. I think everyone needs and wants space in a relationship. I’m not talking about breakup-space. I don’t want anything to come between us. I just want to take it slower, get to know each other, work on making this a long term relationship. We moved too fast, and while that isn’t bad, it isn’t the way I would prefer to work toward longevity.” I kissed him. “Babe, we should get breakfast. It’s in the warmer, getting tough, and we both need to go to work.”

  “Let me get you off first.” He offered.

  I held his face. “You don’t have to do that. I’m great. I’d be even better if you’d eat the breakfast I made for you.” I gave him a kiss. “Let’s get dressed, okay?” He set me down and I pulled him to the walk in closet to dress. I dressed quickly, wearing my customary blouse, skirt, and low heeled shoes. I rushed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put on my makeup. I went to the kitchen to place our meal on the counter.

  “Who’s going to make me breakfast the rest of the week?” I smiled, as I pulled out the warmed syrup from the microwave.

  “Fresh coffee or do you want me to heat up your coffee?”

  “I’ll heat it up.”

  “No. You sit. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “You spoil me, then take it away.”

  “Tsk. Tsk. It’s the condom thing all over again. You like to give me guilt trips when I make decisions you don’t like.”

  “Okay.” His hands rose to the air, yielding from argument. He took a bite of food and moaned. “This is great.” I handed him his reheated coffee. He pulled the chair next to him so I could sit and eat. I was hungry and pancakes are my Saturday breakfast favorite, but I decided it would be a comfort meal for the both of us.

  “I used to make pancakes for me and my mom. She only allowed me to make them on Saturdays, which is why Saturdays are my only day off. I’d get up early and make them from scratch. The recipe is seared in my memory; a splash of vanilla, a dollop of molasses, and on special days, mashed bananas.” I took another mouthful and savored the sweet taste of the fluffy pancake.

  “I love it.” With syrupy lips, we kissed. Once we finished eating, I cleaned up our plates and the mess I made from cooking. Matt went to finish collecting his things. Once I was done in the kitchen, I went to the closet to get my jacket and purse. I put my trench in my overnight bag. With everything packed, I was ready to go to work. I waited for Matt to be ready to go.

  “Ready?” I sat in the corner of the sofa thinking. I nodded and smiled. “You sure like having quiet time. Is that why you’re going home?”

  “Hmm. I don’t mind it. I had to learn to enjoy being alone and just be with my ‘self’ and my thoughts.” I kissed him. He helped me with my jacket. As I went to pick up my bag, he grabbed the handle and took it for me. “Thank you.” I smiled.

  “You’re getting used to it. I like that.” We smiled at each other.

  ***

  The day was long and boring. There wasn’t much to do. No tours and no sales pitch. The weather is getting better, which means that people are taking their fitness routines outdoors. I expect getting an influx of members cancelling or suspending their memberships. This is the time of year, between May and September, when I’m least satisfied with my job. During this time, I yearn to do more, be more, and have more. In July, I’ll have reached my year of working at Duration. I thought I was happy, but since meeting Matt, my dashing doctor, I realized that I’m not one hundred percent content with my career. I haven’t met my full potential. Sitting around Matt’s friends, listening to all their trips and adventures, their projects, the people they’ve met, I haven’t come close to having reached that level of wealth and power. I vowed to reevaluate my future, whether or not I’m with Matt.

  I checked my week’s schedule online and was reminded that I have a scheduled fitting with Chelsea at eleven in the morning on Saturday. I had intended on seeing Matt on Saturday. We’re to go to his sister’s house for dinner, but the fitting shouldn’t interfere with our evening together. Chelsea gave me a plus one for her wedding reception, but I never intended to use it because dating someone was not on the radar. I responded with just myself taking a place setting. She invited my father and a ‘plus one’. He accepted both and will be taking Rubi, rather Rubi will be taking him. I decided I should go to Chelsea’s office and ask her for permission to take Matt. If she agrees, then I will ask him to escort me to the wedding. If she declines, then I didn’t say anything and I won’t feel guilt for not inviting him.

  I walked over to Chelsea’s office. She was inside working on the computer. I knocked, “Hi sweetie.”

  “Hi, lovey. How’s my love struck best friend doing?”

  I smiled. “Still trying to figure out if she’s in love after a little over two weeks of knowing him.”

  “I take it he came back home from Spain safely?”

  “Yes. He surprised me and came home at around three in the morning. I was supposed to cook dinner, but I met his best buddies, four of them and their girlfriends. I thought it would be a disaster . . . there was an incident that I still can’t shake, but I’m trying to stay positive and let this relationship blossom with time.”

  “What happened?”

  “Some high school type shit. One of the friend’s girlfriend, she was at Lumiere that night, was talking to two other dates in the bathroom. She sounded very tipsy, but she said so many cruel things about me not being in his league, fat, and the ultimate statement that I can’t suppress was ‘he’s just using her’.” I admitted.

  “Wow.” She whispered. “Did you tell him?”

  “No. Before we went to dinner, he warned his friend Brady, the bitch’s boyfriend, that the ‘hens’ should be controlled. One girlfriend, Jenna, was great. I don’t even remember the other two girl’s names. Matt told me not to memorize their names because they wouldn’t be attending the next dinner. His friends are still playboys. One more thing, his friend Brady, really creeps me out. He looks at me like a starved dog trying to reach a spoiled piece of meat. Like he’d like to fuck me, but is disgusted at the same time. I’d like to stay away from him at all cost, but Matt and his friends have dinner at least once a month with their significant others. I don’t know.” My voice trailed off to a whi
sper as I mentally reviewed the entire situation. I shook all thoughts to get to the task at hand.

  “I wouldn’t let anything a drunk girl says freak you out. Did you confront her?”

  I grinned mischievously, “Yeah. After she questioned what we had in common, I came out of the stall, fixed my makeup as they sat whispering and eyeing me, I told them that what we have in common, we just did upstairs in the office.”

  Chelsea and I burst into wild laughter, “Sorry. You know I don’t like talking about sex. But that bitch had it coming.” I said, the laughter dissipating. I got serious. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “Okay?”

  “I meet his family this Saturday. It won’t interfere with the fitting. I will be having dinner with his sister, her husband and his niece in the evening. But if all goes well, and with your consent, I’d like to ask him to escort me to your wedding reception.” I asked meekly.

  “Perla. Of course. I have room. Perfect timing actually, I’m setting up the seating chart, so I’ll add him to the list.” She pulled out her planner and wrote down a note for herself.

  “You’re the best friend a girl could ever have. Thanks so much.”

  “One question, why would you ask him to the wedding only ‘if’ all goes well at the dinner with his sister?” She quizzed me.

  “I don’t know Chelz. I’m taking this slower. I’m going home tonight instead of spending the week again. He was not pleased. I told him I will see him Saturday, but expect he’ll show up here all week and still take me to the Inn or home. I intend to push him back from that.”

  “Why? What are you so afraid of?” She asked with concern in her eyes.

  “Honestly, I’m afraid he actually is using me. Maybe just for sex. I’m still questioning why this perfect man, in every sense of the word, wants me. And when that bitch said that, she confirmed my insecurities.”

  “I told you to enjoy this. He obviously likes you. A man that’s using a woman wouldn’t take her to meet his family.”

  “I agree. However, I’ll ask him on Saturday when I see how things go. I should get back to work. Thank you. I’ll meet you at the dress shop at 11?”

  “Yes. See you then, sweetie.” I blew her a kiss.

  I walked back to the office and worked until the end of my shift. The time arrived for me to do my closing routine. I gathered my things and walked to the door to lock down the office. I heard my name called. I turned to my left, toward the direction of the male voice. I saw Eric, the member I’d signed up a week ago approach me.

  “Hi, Perla.”

  “Hi, Eric.”

  “You remembered.”

  “I have a knack for remembering members who’ve shamelessly flirted with me.” He stood uncomfortably close. I put my overnight bag on the ground and crossed my arms, hoping he’d get the message to give me space. He was close to Matt’s height so I had to look up. He wasn’t at all concerned with how sweaty he was, and wiped his neck with his towel.

  He grinned, “I just want to thank you again for the tour and signing me up. I’m enjoying the club.”

  “Great. Have you met any Boston girls that could show you about town?” He was a nice guy, but the relentlessly flirtatious type.

  “Not yet. I only have eyes for a special woman.” His eyes gleamed when he said that. From the corner of my eyes I saw a shape walking toward us. I turned my head slightly and saw Matt. His eyes were dark with no hint of excitement to see me. His hardened jaw and tense closed lips told me that he wasn’t happy. I smiled despite the scene I expected Matt to make.

  “Perla?” Matt called.

  “Hi.” I said with excitement in my voice. Eric stepped back and I turned toward Matt, giving him a peck on the lips. Matt held me, extending the kiss longer than necessary. He was obviously staking his claim for Eric’s benefit. I realized I needed to make introductions with clear titles. “Eric, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Mathias Keene. Matt, this is Eric. I signed him up last week. He was just telling me that he’s enjoying the services.” Both men shook hands.

  “Nice meeting you, Eric.” Matt said.

  “Same here. I’ll catch you another time, Perla. Take care.” He smiled and gave a quick wave as he backed away and walked off.”

  “Well. Are you ready to go home?” Matt asked gruffly. I nodded. He looked angry and on edge. He grabbed my bag from the floor and took my hand in his. He held onto my hand firmly, I’d say, possessively. I stroked my thumb over his trying to soften his grip, just like I did at the club.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked, tugging him to slow his pace.

  “No. Just want to get you home.” He said.

  We walked in silence until we reached his car in the parking lot. He peeled out of the garage and drove me toward my place. I tried making conversation, but his responses were terse. He didn’t look my way during the drive. Worst of all, he didn’t hold my hand like he normally does when we’re in the car. When we arrived close to my place, he parked in an available spot a block away. He pulled my bag out of the back seat as I exited my side and closed the door. I was starting to get angry at his behavior. I couldn’t understand why he was so cold toward me. I hugged myself. My hands under my arms, protecting myself from the sad emotions that were starting to take over.

  When we arrived, I picked up my mail and unlocked the front door. He walked in behind me, climbing the steps. My legs dragged up the stairs, heavy from the weight of the dread I was feeling due to his distance. I unlocked my door and went in, holding the door for him. He took the handle and closed the door, locking each lock as I set down my keys and mail, and took off my jacket.

  “What’s wrong?” Without responding to my question, he pounced on me. He kissed me deeply and furiously, lifting me up on his body. He hauled me to my bed, set me down and started tearing my clothes off my body as he kissed me.

  He pushed me gently on the bed and laid me down, lifting my leg and slipping off my shoes one by one. I watched him as he quickly took off his clothes. He ran his fingers along my body before he straddled me. His large hands caressed and squeezed my breasts. My nipples hardened under his touch. He seemed to be in a trance, acting, but not speaking. He kneeled forward over my torso, clutching my breasts in his hand. He lightly rubbed my nipples with his hands, and I gasped and ground my pelvis upwards. Matt squeezed my breasts together and reared back, plunging his erect cock in between my breasts. It was so erotic.

  I licked the head of his cock and he paused while I took a couple of inches of his cock into my mouth and sucked. He moaned with pleasure, and returned to pumping my breasts, grunting his satisfaction. I stroked his thighs, encouraging him to continue his drives, wanting him to get the fulfillment he desperately needed. His moans became more guttural and I knew he was about to come. He pulled back and grasped his cock, stroking as his cream shot out onto my breasts. When he stopped, he rubbed his release on my chest. He had claimed me.

  I’ve read about this. Ben never did it. I guess I wasn’t worth it to him. I thought Matt was being aggressive because he didn’t want me going home. He stood up and went to the bathroom. I heard the water running, and after he shut it off, he came back to the room with a washcloth. He still didn’t utter a word, even as he cleaned me up with the damp cloth. He reached in his jeans, pulled out his wallet, and retrieved a condom. At least he was prepared. He was still fiery, stroking his cock to prolong his erection. He rolled on the condom, parted my legs with his own, and entered me without checking to see if I was ready for him. I gasped at his abrupt entry.

  I was ready, wet enough and wanting him, even under a jealous rage for which I had no control over. He drove into me deeply and slowly, bucking into my pelvis. I whimpered with each strike. “You’re mine!” He clutched my ass with both hands and pummeled in and out of me. “All mine.” Surprisingly, I reveled in his possession. I’d been feeling so unsure, but I felt like this act was one of passion and need. This control was to keep me in his life because he wanted me . . . liked me . . . maybe,
even loved me?

  “I’m yours, Matt. I told you that.” He pounded within, and I felt my climax building. He continued his forceful thrusts. With one hand on my lower body and the other at the base of my neck, he lifted me with him as he leaned back on his knees and sat on his calves. He ground me onto his cock. My forehead went into the crook of his neck. My sensitive nipples scrapped along his taut chest. His chest hair tickled my flesh. It was all that my clit could take and I climaxed. I bit my lower lip, preventing myself from yelling out. He growled in my ear as he rammed into me. “Please, come for me, baby.” I begged him. I needed him to finish. The orgasm was intense, but in suppressing my emotions, I was physically done.

  With a few more thrusts he came with a grunt. He held me tight against his body. I could feel his heart beating fast and his breath jagged from exertion. After a while, he lowered me onto the bed. He shifted us to lie down face to face on our sides in the narrow bed, keeping me close to his body. He kissed me. I hated the silence. I gave him time to recover before starting a conversation. I slowly caressed his back with the tips of my fingers.

  I pulled away from him, and looked into his eyes. “What was that about?” He leaned in for a kiss and I backed away. “Don’t evade the question. What’s wrong?” I asked quietly. He turned away, avoiding my eyes.

  “Nothing. I just needed you.” He answered gruffly.

  “I get how you may have needed me, Matt, but that seemed more like you were staking your claim.” He pulled out his flaccid cock, rose up off the bed and retrieved his underwear. He walked to the bathroom. I figured he was going to throw away the condom. One of the things I didn’t miss from marriage was the mood swings a man experiences. I used to deal with Ben’s mood swings, and towards the end, I only got one mood—indifference.