Reaching Lily

by Vivacia K Ahwen

  ‘Yes,’ I breathed, and my voice sounded far away.

  ‘Do you want to come, Lily?’ He looked up at me from between my legs. ‘Can you?’

  ‘Kind and soft,’ I replied. ‘Yes. But be merciful, Master, and let me come quickly.’

  ‘Sweet, sweet girl.’ He slipped a finger deep into my cunt, pressing ever so carefully, while he rubbed his smooth cheek against my clit, the slightest pressure, such a familiar touch now. I came. It was quiet, peaceful and dreamlike. ‘There.’

  I let out a breath of relief.

  ‘Shall I free you?’ he asked, running a fingertip along the inside of my arm.

  ‘No.’ I looked over at him. Dorian rested at my side, waiting for my next request, his penis still arched, with a slick of pre-come at the tip. ‘Anoint me, Dorian. Shoot your jizz all over my tits and belly. But don’t touch me while you do it. Let me ache.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Of course, Lily.’

  ‘Then break my bonds and let me rub one out, lubing my pussy with your hot manjuice.’

  I didn’t have to tell him twice, there would be no please, there would be no begging. He knelt over me, taking in my helplessness, my tearstained cheeks, my eyes that surely gave away my desire as I watched him pleasure himself. His gaze fell on my pinkness and he spat on his hand, slicked his penis, stroked faster, harder, and at last spattered his come all over me, hot, sticky, and wet.

  He moaned as at least nine giant spurts shot out of him, as though we hadn’t had sex a mere two hours ago. After a while he released me from my bonds and watched me swipe my hands down my torso, lick his sperm from my fingers, scoop up still more white stickiness and smear it inside my pussy, all palm and push. I wouldn’t finger myself, not this time. And as I cried out my release, Dorian drew me against him, holding me as though he could never let go. Closing my eyes, I listened to the quickness of our shared panting, our heartbeats slow down, recover and sync up in rhythm.

  We were one.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Revere

  If anyone had ever told me dinner with my mother and Dorian Holder would be comfortable – pleasant, even! – I would have called him or her a big fat liar. But, as it turned out, it was, except for a few strange moments. The only real awkwardness was Dorian’s considerable height versus the low ceilings of our one-storey Revere ranch house; at one point he bonked his head on a light fixture. Ma made her ridiculously delicious lasagna, overdisclosed to Dorian about our lives and embarrassed me with plenty of baby pictures.

  ‘You always enjoyed yourself when naked, I see,’ Dorian said, while my mother was in the kitchen slicing garlic bread. I snatched the photo of me nude splashing in a baby swimming pool.

  ‘Jerk.’ I smacked his arm.

  ‘Easy, killer.’ My mother set the cutting board of steaming loaves down on the Formica table. ‘This looks fantastic, Jaz. Thank you so much for having us.’

  ‘Thank you so much for coming, sweetie,’ Ma said, tousling his hair.

  I stuck my tongue out at her. ‘Quit flirting with my boyfriend, Ma.’

  ‘Oh, now he’s your boyfriend, is he?’

  For the first time ever, I witnessed Dorian Holder blushing. What a sight to see! I tucked it away in my mental memory box.

  ‘May I serve you, Jaz?’ Dorian scooped up a generous square of lasagna. ‘Lily?’

  ‘About half what you just gave Ma,’ I said. ‘Frau Gheiszler was giving me guff again this morning about my “zaftig figure”. Oh, and not only did that suck, but all we did was practise posture and balance. Not even first position. Oh, and a ton of stretching. Barre work. I was pleasantly surprised by how strong I felt. It all came quite easily.’

  ‘Not shocking,’ Dorian said, leering. ‘You do seem quite flexible.’

  ‘Sounds like a typical first day of ballet class,’ Ma said. ‘And you’ve got muscle memory from when you were small. Do you need any new dancewear, Lily? We’re around the same size.’

  ‘Uhm, actually, a friend gave me a ton of exercise duds, as well as a pair of red-soled ballet flats.’

  ‘Fancy. Sounds like a very generous friend, Lily. I should find myself one of those.’

  ‘Ma teaches,’ I explained to Dorian, while my cheeks burned. Ma, really.

  ‘I gathered. What kind of dancing?’ Dorian peered at my milfy mother.

  ‘Not really dancing per se. Zumba. Also, I’ve started a stripper class, which is quite popular.’

  Dorian nearly choked on his water. ‘Sorry, what was that?’

  ‘Pole dancing.’ Ma shrugged and passed him a small bowl of freshly grated Asiago cheese. ‘I’m sure Lily told you I used to be an exotic dancer before I started bartending. Quit the titty-club when she was around ten, since she figured out what my job was.’

  ‘Uh, no. Lily, you failed to mention that.’ He gave me a sidelong glance.

  ‘Must’ve slipped my mind.’ I refilled his water glass.

  ‘Lily did say your mother was around a lot. I’m guessing she did overnight childcare?’ Dorian was far too interested. After all, I knew nothing about his history.

  ‘Yeah, I don’t know how we would have managed without Gamma. She was just amazing with Lily. Wasn’t she, Lilz?’

  ‘Yes. Can we change the subject now? Maybe hear a little about Dorian’s formative years instead?’

  ‘No. Absolutely not, Ms Dewitt.’

  I dropped my fork, startled. For the first time all night, Dorian’s Mr Holder persona possessed him, and my mother was quite taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanour. ‘May I remind you, Lily, that you requested the night before last that we not discuss our pasts? I am honouring your request.’

  ‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ I said. ‘And you know it.’

  ‘Let’s bow our heads,’ said Ma, and reached for our hands to hold, as though we were having a séance.

  ‘Ma, please. No grace.’

  ‘Lily.’ There was a warning note to her voice. ‘Dorian, would you like to lead the blessing?’

  Dorian gave me a sideways ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ glance but said, ‘I’d be honoured to, Jaz.’

  ‘Great,’ I said.

  He looked around at the walls for inspiration, and a retro picture of Jesus holding a lamb caught his eye. ‘Uh … Sweet Jesus. Thank you for food, family, friends and wealth. May your sheep find its herd, or –’

  ‘Amen,’ I said decisively, though perhaps I should have let him bumble his way through it all. Ma released our hands. ‘Let’s eat.’

  Later, as we sipped coffee and ate tiramisu, Dorian mentioned how I looked so much more like the pictures of my father. One of them had somehow ended up in one of Ma’s albums. She was glowing in the photo, a hand resting proudly on what looked like a seven-month-along belly. Behind her was a dashing man – my father – who smiled, but his pale eyes were haunted.

  ‘Yeah.’ Ma patted my hand. ‘She got lucky.’

  ‘Stop,’ protested Dorian. ‘What is it with you gorgeous Dewitt ladies and your utter cluelessness about your sex appeal? Jaz, what was your husband’s name?’

  ‘My father,’ I chimed in, ‘was David Astor. They never married, and I never met him, because he ran out on us. End of story.’

  ‘Really? I’m sorry to hear that.’ Dorian scowled. ‘Sorry for everyone involved. He missed out on a wonderful life with two amazing women. Lily, you missed out on having a dad. Too many “fathers” like that out there.’

  ‘Big time,’ I agreed.

  ‘Not the end of the story,’ Ma said, and twirled her finger around her ear to indicate crazy. ‘David claimed he was a spy on a special mission, ya see. When I first met him at the club –’

  ‘He was a … client?’ Dorian asked, and cleared his throat.

  ‘You got it. When I first met him, I thought his flights of fancy were intriguing. Amusing.’ She shook her head. ‘I refused to accept that he was a schizophrenic. Not to mention, as it turns out, a deadbeat who skipped off before he could even meet hi
s beautiful daughter. He claimed that him living with us would “put the entire family in danger”. We never heard from him again.’

  ‘I see.’ Dorian rubbed his chin. ‘I know some people in DC. Did you say Astor was his last name?’

  ‘Dorian, he doesn’t work for the government.’ Ma laughed, and shook her head. ‘David was mentally ill and had a Peter Pan complex. Though I try to think of the whole débâcle as a happy accident. Sometimes I’m bitter, but if it hadn’t been for him, we wouldn’t have Lily in our lives.’

  They both looked at me adoringly.

  ‘Knock it off,’ I said, as Dorian squeezed my thigh under the table.

  ‘Yes, new subject,’ Ma agreed, completely misreading the situation. ‘Dorian, do you play Scrabble?’

  ‘Like an ace, and yes, I’d love to. Lily,’ he said, watching me closely, ‘haven’t you ever wanted to meet your father?’

  I shrugged. ‘Not really. Life’s complicated enough without inviting catastrophe.’

  ‘I see.’ He nodded and looked from me to Ma. ‘If you ever change your mind, let me know. The company has some decent investigators, and we could track him down in a matter of weeks.’

  ‘For real?’ Ma looked hopeful. She was full of surprises, that one.

  ‘Or a matter of months at most.’

  Ma and I met eyes.

  ‘We’ll let you know,’ I said. ‘How about that game?’

  Ma left for work around 8.30, after Dorian kicked our asses at Scrabble (Holders always win), and he and I did the ‘real’ house tour.

  ‘I’d like to fuck you in your old bedroom.’ He turned around in the small space. ‘Looks like your mom hasn’t changed it one bit since you were in high school.’

  ‘Right.’ I pointed to the picture of a shirtless – but when is he not? – Anthony Kiedis tacked on the ceiling over my bed. ‘Classic teenage Lily masturbation material.’

  ‘Huh.’ Dorian glared at the poster. ‘I always thought he was far too petulant.’

  ‘Well, when he was young, maybe. Like before the ponytail chop.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Jesus Christ, Dorian. Are you jealous of the Red Hot Chili Peppers now?’

  ‘Told you. I’m jealous all the time. Far too possessive, particularly in matters of the heart.’ He shrugged. ‘At least I can admit I have a problem.’

  Matters of the heart?

  ‘Lily?’

  ‘Come see the basement,’ I said. ‘My mom’s dance studio.’

  ‘You knew I was curious,’ Dorian replied. He gave a poster of Jack White the finger, and followed me down the hall.

  ‘Now, you thought the ceilings were low upstairs …’

  Dorian ducked as he reached the bottom step, just in time to avoid cracking his head on the doorframe. ‘You weren’t kidding.’

  ‘Nope.’ I flipped on the light switch, revealing the wall of mirrors on one side, barre on the other, and the fact that Ma had painted all of the newel posts garish shades of lavender and pink for ‘the ladies’ to use as practice dancepoles. I grasped the pole and took an experimental swing, full-circle, then a second one, dipping my back down low and wrapping one of my legs around the cold metal. ‘Ta-da.’

  ‘Now you’re just trying to torture me,’ accused Dorian. He glanced over at the stereo. ‘I was going to try to get you to dance again, but it’s claustrophobic down here.’

  He walked towards me and grabbed the high end of the post. Dorian’s stare was intense as he pressed against me, and the icy metal of the pole sent a chill the length of my spine. I shivered as he leaned in and kissed me. His lips were soft but insistent, and he tugged at one of my ears to draw me closer. He parted my mouth with his tongue, delving around, exploring me the way he surely would explore my body later. He cupped my breasts and traced slow circles around my nipples, which were as insistent as his lips, rising and pushing the fabric of my satiny bra as far as it could stretch. He moved his hips against mine. Mmn. Sandwiched between two poles.

  He sighed as he pulled away, reluctant to let go. ‘Lily, thank you for bringing me here. To your home.’

  ‘Didn’t really have much choice in the matter, but you’re welcome. Now maybe you get me better? Like how I turned out to be such an odd duck?’

  Dorian shook his head. ‘We’re not so different, sweet girl. Perhaps I’m not quite the man you think I am. Something you need to know if you plan to make it big in this world is never make assumptions about anyone. People can surprise you. Even people like yours truly.’

  ‘What, you actually grew up as poor white trash with a mom who was just this side of a hooker?’

  ‘Let me just say that no one’s childhood is ever easy.’ His brow furrowed. ‘We all have our sad stories, Tiger Lily.’

  After a beat, I licked my finger and wiped a bit of tomato sauce off his chin. ‘You’re wearing my mom’s lasagna.’

  ‘What are you doing to me, Lily?’ he growled.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, confounded.

  He tried to smile. ‘You know, I had every intention of taking you in your old bedroom, until I saw so much Jesus paraphernalia lying around the house and decorating the walls. I don’t want Him watching.’

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Dorian.’

  ‘Touché. So, Jaz is quite the character, isn’t she?’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I’m the only person who’s allowed to rag on Ma.

  ‘You needn’t be offended. I’m just making an observation. On one hand, she’s part nun. On the other, she’s Miss Pamela.’

  ‘Who’s Miss Pamela?’

  ‘Knowing her does make me understand you better, Lily, which is precisely what I hoped for. And I find myself wanting more, needing more. Much as I want to dominate you, and own you, if only for a short time … I also want you to promise me that you will continue to make time for me, even after the merger takes place. Even after I leave.’

  ‘The merger?’

  ‘More on that later. Just answer my question.’ He pinned my arms over my head, so that the chilly iron pressed against my wrists. I couldn’t move. ‘Tell me that you’ll see me some weekends. Some vacations. Or just let me fly you out to see me for a few days, for no reason whatsoever.’

  ‘I don’t – I don’t know,’ I stammered, taken aback. ‘Did not see this one coming.’

  ‘Think about it,’ Dorian Holder said, letting go of my wrists. He turned his back to me and ducked out the door.

  I stood dumbfounded, leaning against the pole as though rooted.

  ‘Hey!’ His stern voice called down the stairs. ‘Step lively, Ms Dewitt. I haven’t got all night.’

  Was Dorian Holder falling for me?

  Don’t overthink it, Lily. Can’t you just be happy, for now?

  ‘Coming,’ I called, running up the stairs after him.

  TO BE CONTINUED

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