by Lisa Ferrari
I send Kellan to take a shower while I finish preparing dinner: chicken and asparagus, of course, because we have to stick to our nutrition plan. (Maybe if pee out back on the lawn I can avoid the Gabriel Garcia Marquez Love in the Time of Cholera-esque aroma of my own fragrant urine.)
When Kellan gets out of the shower, we sit at the kitchen table and eat and smoke. I put a Viagra tab on my tongue.
“Are you going to take that?” Kellan asks.
“No. This is for you.” I lean forward and stick out my tongue.
Kellan takes my tongue in his mouth and sucks it several times, removing the Viagra. He crunches it between his teeth and swallows it with a sip of energy drink.
By the time we’re done eating, we’re both satisfied, we’re both very high, and Kellan’s erection is HUGE.
I take him to the sofa and proceed to suck and stroke him, making him even bigger and harder. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him this large. Even Kellan is impressed.
His penis seems to have hypertrophied, grown larger over time due to use.
I straddle him and slowly take him inside me, riding him slowly with long, deep thrusts.
Just when Kellan is about to come, I stop.
After he’s calmed down, I ride him again until he gets close. Then I stop again.
I do this a third time.
By now Kellan is going crazy. His entire body is writhing on the sofa. He’s lifting his hips, trying to thrust himself into me. I’ve really got him worked up. This is working even better than I’d planned. And he can’t seem to keep his hands off my breasts and this sexy new bra I got for next to nothing at Walmart.
I make a show of stopping and slowly standing up.
I pick up the strap-on toy that’s been sitting on the sofa all evening. I’ve seen him glance at it. A lot.
I slowly put it on and cinch it in place while he watches me.
I quickly, and surprisingly deftly I might add, apply a condom and some lubricant. I get down on my knees between Kellan’s legs and take him in my mouth and start sucking him as hard as I can.
I squirt some lubricant on my fingers and gently massage Kellan’s anus. It’s so soft and silky to the touch. My heart is pounding with excitement and I’ve got butterflies in my stomach.
Twice Kellan tells me he’s getting close.
I stop each time and wait, letting him writhe and wonder what I’m going to do.
Finally I inch up close to him and place the head of my toy against his opening. I hold the toy with my hand and gently swirl it around, teasing him.
Kellan begins stroking himself.
“No. That’s mine.” I remove his hand. “Pretend your hands are tied to the back of the couch.”
Kellan reaches up and grabs the back of it.
I lift his legs and spread them wide open. I slowly slide my toy inside him. It looks like a real, erect, thick and hard penis.
Kellan’s breath hitches and he moans as I gently and very slowly work my way in.
He gasps when the coronal ridge of the head goes in, disappearing inside him.
Wow. I’m so turned on. The front of the harness is pressing against my clitoris. I very much want to simply go for it, to give in to my desires, my passion, and to bring us both to orgasm as quickly as possible.
But I don’t. I decide to prolong this. For as long as I am able.
I start to go a little faster, withdrawing gently and then gently easing back in.
Kellan is hard as a rock. His penis is flexing and straining. I can tell he wants to come. A drop of pre-come drips out him.
I gradually pick up the pace. I have to force myself to relax so I don’t orgasm too soon myself.
I keep going and going, gradually faster… and then faster… and then faster…
After about twenty minutes, Kellan is moaning and breathing heavily. He says, “Oh my God, oh my God, Claire…” he’s staring at his erection. I follow his gaze. Kellan holds his breath for several long moments. He cries out and I watch, transfixed, as he orgasms. His erection flexes and pumps and semen squirts out onto his perfect six pack despite the fact that neither of us is touching his penis.
I’m utterly mesmerized as Kellan has his first anal orgasm. Or maybe his first prostate orgasm. I’m not sure. I’ve never done this before.
Kellan’s eyes are closed, his head is turned to one side, and he’s moaning softly as the orgasm takes him.
His body begins to relax. He lowers his legs and lets go of the back of the sofa.
I gently, slowly withdraw. “How was that?”
Kellan looks up at me through half-lidded eyes. “Incredible. That’s never happened before. We’ve never done that before. Get on me. Ride me. I want you to come, too.”
“No, it’s okay, I don’t have to. I want you to relax and enjoy it.”
I remove the toy and quickly dispose of the condom, so I can join Kellan on the sofa.
Kellan surprises me. He grabs me by my hips and pulls me onto him, guiding his penis, which is still mostly erect, much to my surprise, increasing still further my esteem of the folks at Pfizer. Kellan scoots down a bit, so his hips are off the sofa. He begins jack-rabbiting his hips up into me, pistoning his beautiful cock into me, deep and fast and hard.
It’s exquisite.
Kellan holds my hips firmly, looking up into my face, with a determined expression on his face.
He pounds me for several long minutes. I want to climax for him but it’s not happening.
As if he can read my mind, Kellan says, “Just relax. Let it happen.”
I try to relax like he says, taking a deep breath and letting it out. I’m able then to focus upon the pleasure Kellan is giving me, upon the act of us being together, being one, instead of focusing on a desired outcome.
The act of removing the pressure is exactly what I need.
Thirty seconds later, without my doing anything at all, everything slowly tightens inside me, clenching, clenching, more and more while Kellan is inside me, filling me up, and I explode. I quiver and shake as I come, falling forward until my head rests on Kellan’s broad chest. I am weak of body and aware only of the ecstasy inside me. Kellan supports my entire body with his hands, holding me aloft.
Gradually, he slows, matching my waning orgasm in perfect harmony. I collapse against his warm body.
Kellan removes my bra and carries me to the Jacuzzi. We settle into the hot, bubbling water.
I look into his eyes. “God I love you.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
“Want to bet?”
We say no more, for nothing more is required.
We float together, side by side, holding hands and looking up at the stars, completely spent.
KELLAN AND I look up at the stars as we eat. Kellan went inside and prepared an amazing turkey sandwich for both of us.
We begin to discuss our trip to L.A. in two days. Kellan says he booked us a flight for tomorrow night so we can be in L.A. the day of the meeting. He says we’ll cut our water the night before, get up in the morning and do some cardio to cut some more, and go into the meeting totally shredded.
I ask, “Are we ready?”
“We’re ready.”
A short time later, after Kellan has gone into the house and prepared a chocolate protein shake for each of us for dessert, my mom texts me, asking if we want to come over for dinner tomorrow night.
Kellan reads the text. “I’m down if you are. But do you think it’s a good idea?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, look, I don’t want to speak ill of your family. But you know how they can get under your skin and into your head. Thanksgiving was pretty much a bust. We haven’t been over to their house since then, other than to announce our engagement. And each time you’ve seen your mom, she’s given you a raft of shit over your tan or your physique or the breast implants you don’t even have yet. I think it’s best if we go into the
meeting on Friday with clear heads, feeling good, feeling happy, and confident. Not stressed out because your mom laid a big fat guilt trip on you because you’re shacking up with some meathead and spending too much time in a gym full of sweaty men and you may as well be down in L.A. doing pornographic films.”
I know Kellan speaks a lot of truth. And he’s probably right.
But I also think this could be my mom’s way of offering a truce.
I have to accept the offer.
Part of me knows it’s a bad idea, but I text her back, saying we’ll come over.
Kellan is completely supportive. He says we’ll take our stuff with us and go to the airport from their house.
Chapter 12
THE NEXT EVENING, Kellan and I roll up in front of my parents’ house.
On some level, I know this is a stupid idea and that I’m pretty much as dumb as a rock because I continue to harbor the belief that my parents, and when I say my parents I mean my mother, will come around and will accept Kellan and will come to know him and love him and to welcome him into our family. He put a ring on my finger; what more does she want?
Kellan and I stand on the front porch.
“God help us,” Kellan says softly. He raps smartly on the door.
My mother opens the door.
She looks weird.
I see it immediately.
Something is off. Something is… up.
I know immediately that we shouldn’t have come here. We should’ve stayed home, at Kellan’s, made love swinging from the ceiling fan or in the garage or on top of the refrigerator, or simply relaxed and watched TV until it was time to go to the airport. But stupid me, I wanted to see my mom and my dad and maybe my sister in order to take another stab at having them like Kellan. I’m suddenly painfully aware of the fact that I’m seeking their approval, that it bothers me that they not only have not accepted Kellan and the fact that I’m with him, they actively dislike him and they actively dislike the fact that he and I are together and are engaged to be married and that a meathead is going to marry their little girl and join the family and be entitled to whatever inheritance they leave me.
We follow my mother through the foyer and into the great room. My dad is there. Chris and Beth are there.
And…Denise is there.
My suspicions are not only confirmed that something is up, I realize I’ve grossly underestimated.
Before anything else happens, my mother says to a man I’ve never met nor so much as seen before, “Here she is, doctor. This is my daughter: Claire.” My mother does not introduce nor has she so much as looked at Kellan.
The man is wearing a red polo shirt and beige slacks. He’s balding. He has kind blue eyes. “Hello, Claire, I’m Michael. It’s nice to meet you.”
Michael offers his hand. So, because I’m not a cavewoman, I shake it (despite my instinct to grab Kellan and bail, rudeness be damned). Michael’s hand is very soft.
Michael turns to Kellan and extends his hand.
Kellan says, “Kellan Kearns. Nice to meet you.” Kellan speaks loudly and forcefully. He’s smiling. He understands that we’ve walked into a pit of vipers; he’s exerting dominance.
I wish I knew how to exert dominance.
My mother says, “You see, doctor, this is the shirt I was telling you about.”
My mother begins grabbing at the black Jane’s Addiction tee shirt I’m wearing, the same one I wore to L.A. and which everyone seemed to love. I decided to wear it again for this trip because it brought me such good luck last time.
My mother says, “Take off that shirt right now, Claire Valentine.”
I know it’s bad when she uses my full name. “Why?”
“Because we’re going to take it out back and you are going to burn it. Now take it off this instant.”
“I am not going to take it off and burn it. This is one of my favorite shirts. You have any idea how long I’ve had this shirt? I love this shirt.”
My mother says, “You see, doctor? Idol worship!”
Michael the doctor man largely ignores my mother. He speaks softly. It forces me to listen more closely. It’s plain that he’s doing it deliberately. “Claire, I am a therapist and an addiction medicine specialist. We are all here today because your family and friends are very concerned about you. They love you very, very much and they want to help you. We are doing an intervention here today.”
I can’t believe my ears.
An intervention?
For me?
Memories of all the times I’ve watched Intervention flood my mind. A horrible idea occurs to me and I turn to Kellan, terrified of what he will say. “Are you in on this? Is that why you brought me here?”
Kellan’s face is as stoic as I’ve ever seen it. “Yes, sweetie. I’m very worried about you. We all are. You’re becoming a drug addict and a nymphomaniac.”
“WHAT?!!!”
Kellan says, “Just kidding. No, I’m not in on this. I thought we were coming for dinner. Which sucks because I’m hungry.” Kellan turns to my parents. “Are you guys serious about this? Just because Claire is no longer your little whipping girl you can boss around, you try to do an intervention?”
“She’s a drug addict!” my mother very nearly screams, with veins standing out on the sides of her neck. “She needs help. And so do you.”
Kellan holds up both hands. He seems remarkably calm. “Okay, I’m going to stop you right there. Neither of us is a drug addict. We don’t smoke cigarettes, we don’t drink alcohol. Well, that’s not completely true, we each had a glass of champagne on the plane a few months ago and I did have a couple of beers in San Diego. But for the most part we really don’t drink much. But we are meticulous with our nutrition, we train hard every single day to be our best, to grow stronger physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Every now and then we enjoy some cannabis, which grows in the ground of God’s green earth, by the way. It’s not like smoking crack or meth or shooting black tar heroin or snorting mountains of coke.”
The doctor guy asks, “How often do you use marijuana?”
I say, “Don’t answer that, Kellan.”
Kellan says, “Why not? I’m not afraid of these people.”
“Because if you answer it, they’ll use it against us.”
Kellan says, “Too late, they’re already against us.”
The doctor says, “No one is against you.”
Kellan says, “I appreciate the fact that you see it that way. But, the fact is, you’re new and you’ve only heard one side. The truth is that everyone in this room, with the exception maybe of Chris, has been against Claire and me being together from the very beginning.”
Denise finally speaks up, affronted, and says, “Hey!”
Kellan says, “Oh come on, Denise. You know you’ve tried to undermine Claire being with me.”
Denise says, “That is true. I did try to get into your pants. More than once. Even though I knew you were with Claire. I’m like a guy in that regard: I think with my pussy first and ask questions later. But I’ve seen the error of my ways and now all I want is for my little Claire bear to be happy. So I’m sorry. Okay, Claire bear?”
I say, “You can start by not calling me ‘Claire bear’ anymore. Okay, Denise? And the same goes for all of you. I don’t like it, I never did, I know you think it’s cute but I don’t. So stop. Understand?” There, there’s some dominance.
My mother says, “You see, doctor? This is the anger and the defiance I was telling you about. She’s out of control.” She turns to my father, who is sitting in his favorite chair with three fingers of Scotch neat in his hand. My mom continues, “Honey, I think we should call Pastor Paul. Maybe he can do an exorcism.” My dad rolls his eyes and sips his Scotch.
Kellan takes my wrist and holds my hand in the air so everyone can see it. “News flash, ladies and gentlemen, Claire and I are together.” Kellan points to the rock on my finger. “See this? One-and-a-h
alf carats. One of the finest diamonds in North America. I spent three months searching for it. I looked at more than fifty stones. Six month’s salary, right? It cost me quite a pretty penny. But you know what? She’s worth it. She’s worth it and a lot more. Claire is the finest person I’ve ever known. She’s sweet and kind and caring and loving. Not to mention smart, accomplished, driven, devastatingly beautiful and completely sexy. I’m crazy about her. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for her. In fact, I’m madly in love with her. She’s the first person I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last person I think about when I go to sleep at night. So it’s a good thing she’s in my bed when that happens. Otherwise, I’d miss her. A lot. I had a good life before I met Claire. At least, I thought it was a good life. I had money and cars and a house and great success in my career and in my business. I’ve had my share of women, too.”
My mother shouts, “He’s a man-whore! He probably has AIDS!”
My dad shushes my mother, “Let him finish, MC.” I haven’t heard my dad call my mother by her pet initials since I was little.
Kellan says, “I’m not proud of that, but I was young and had a perfect body and lots of money, both of which I spent years working my ass off to acquire, by the way. Nothing has ever been given to me. I’m what you call a high-net-worth individual, but it’s only because I’ve earned every penny. I’ve worked and saved and invested and reinvested while I kept right on working and saving. If I live and look different, it’s because I am. I’ve never been average. I’ve never been like everyone else. I’ve always known that. When I was young, I knew I wasn’t like other kids. It really bothered me. I got into my fair share of fights because of it. But when I got older, I realized it was my greatest asset. God made me who I am. And He made Claire who she is. And one fateful day about eight months ago, His angels guided her into my gym twice in one day. I thought I was the only one crazy enough to train twice in one day. So I said hello to her while she was doing cardio. I thought for sure she’d tell me to piss off. But she didn’t, so I invited her to train with me. I thought she was beautiful but I had no idea how beautiful. I certainly didn’t know she’d steal my heart and that our souls would be bound together forever.”
