by Katie Dowe
“You can’t know that. Not for sure.”
Allen smiled. “And that’s exactly why I can,” he said cryptically then stood up. “I want some coffee. Do you want some coffee?” he asked as he walked to the kitchen. Frances got up on her knees, leaning on the back of the sofa to watch him go.
“The Chef’s still in there,” she whispered frantically at him as he headed to the kitchen. Allen turned to smile at her.
“So?” he asked.
“I don’t think he likes people just going in there,” she said.
Allen laughed out loud and then disappeared around the corner. Frances sighed and sat back down waiting to hear the explosion. Nothing happened for a time and then Allen was back with coffee. He wasn’t alone.
“Frannie? Meet Miguel; he’s our cook. You and he get along very well. Like a house on fire,” he said as if he was speaking to a kid. Miguel stepped forward and held both hands out to her.
“Ms. Hilton, I am sorry for your troubles,” he said taking both hands into his and kissing first one then the other.
“Oh,” Frances said unable to process or even think of a single thing to say.
He put her hands down in her lap, bowed to her and disappeared back into the kitchen. Frances watched him go with her mouth open.
“Okay. So I’ve been skulking all day for no reason?” she asked. Allen laughed.
“I guess you have. Did you want anything else from the kitchen?”
“Well…I could eat,” she said with a twist of her lips.
“Miguel!” Allen called making Frances wince; so rude.
The cook came back round the corner, “Yes, Mr. Allen.”
“Frances would like some food,” Allen said.
“Ah, I have some nice carrots and tomatoes, maybe some cheese? I could make a nice salad,” he suggested.
“Okay, that sounds good but could I have something with that, maybe some French fries? A hot dog…?”
Allen laughed, “Shall I order some pizza instead; sounds like you want some serious junk food.”
“Pizza sounds good,” Frances brightened then she turned to face Miguel. “Not that I don’t appreciate the salad; I’ll eat that too,” she pacified.
Miguel smiled, “How about I bring the salad and then make you a pizza?”
Frances bowed to him, “You are a man among men Miguel.”
*****
Frances seemed to see saw between hunger and nausea. One seemed to always precipitate the other; it was a never ending circle of misery. She was surprised at how patient Allen was with her. He began going to work in the morning only, spending his afternoons with her. She’d canceled her speaking engagements because she wasn’t confident about being able to pull that off. But she figured she could do book signings; she could still sign her name after all and at least she was sure of what it was. She was having a hard time accepting that she was a published author popular enough to have these problems; either way, she was grateful.
When they came home from these functions, Allen would rub her feet and baby her and make her feel like a princess and when they went to bed, he said ‘goodnight’ and turned his back on her, dropping off to sleep with apparently no problem. Frances was having trouble sleeping though. All the attention, the massages, the flirting, the eye contact; it got her all heated up and she was all primed up with nowhere to go. She wondered if it was pregnancy hormones making her so horny or was it just Allen? She didn’t feel like she could talk to him about it because for all she knew, he was feeling absolutely nothing about this whole messed up situation. Sure he was attentive and loving…but maybe it was because he felt he owed her rather than any interest he had in jumping her bones. I mean, what kind of guy had this much self-control? They slept in the same bed every night and he didn’t so much as cop a feel. It was humiliating.
She turned around to face him, tracing the length of his broad back with her eyes. Her hand trailed downward, past her stomach to caress the downy hair that covered her center. Tiny tendrils of sensation suffused her stomach with warmth as a finger moved downward and inward, seeking the wetness of her entrance. She was leaking like a faulty faucet and it was all Allen’s fault. He lay in front of her, back moving slowly as he breathed in and out; he was already asleep? Her finger pressed harder, going in deeper, finding that sensitive nub and rubbing it gently as she closed her eyes and imagined it was Allen’s finger seeking inside of her. Pretty soon, a finger began to feel inadequate and she added a second one, imagining it was Allen getting on top of her, penis hard and ready and pressing into her with lust and desire, whispering her name into her ear as he bit into her neck. His breath exhaling in relief, completion and desire as he drove himself home at last. Then he would withdraw and thrust again, seeking the sensitive places inside her, making electrical impulses shoot every which way; her back would arch just the way it wanted to do now; but she couldn’t because she might wake him. Instead, she spread her legs wider, controlling her breathing with difficulty as she felt that balloon of feeling build inside her; she wanted it to be him so bad she almost reached out her hand to touch his back, to ask for this one thing; it didn’t have to mean anything. This was basic, feral need; she needed a dick inside of her and he had one. She felt the release come at the thought and she couldn’t resist jerking a bit as her eyesight dimmed for a minute, hand weakening with the aftershocks. She slumped back on the pillow and watched Allen’s back, caressing him with her eyes before they closed and she slept.
*****
‘Did she just fucking masturbate right in front of me?’
Allen wasn’t asleep; in fact he was very awake, very hard and in pain. He’d been persuading himself to drift off, had almost managed it in fact when he felt it; her breathing had changed; become more harsh. She was moving very subtly on the bed but he didn’t mistake those sounds, however quiet she tried to be…How many times had they made love over the years? A hundred? A hundred thousand? He knew how she sounded when she was aroused; he knew her sex sounds. And she was definitely making them right now. His body was conditioned to respond to those sounds, the smell emanating from her; a subtle musk that awakened the Casanova in him, made him come out to play. Now, here he was, all dolled up with nowhere to go. He’d been trying so hard to give her space, make her comfortable, be the grown up for once…and this is how she repaid him? With teasing reminders of what he knew they had and she apparently didn’t? Allen heard her breathing even out and a tiny snore issued from her nose. So he knew she was asleep when he reached down and began to tug himself. It hurt a bit so he looked on the counter to see if there was any lotion nearby. It would be too much of a give away to walk to the bathroom right now and Frances was a light sleeper.
He shoved his pajamas aside making room for his hand, moaning very quietly as it caught on his hard on. He imagined Frances’s hand pulling them down, her soft hands brushing across his erection. It all made him want to moan and buck his hips wildly for more. But he couldn’t because then she would hear and truly understand the extent of his sickness.
“That’s my Allen so hot and all for me.”
Allen closed his eyes as he imagined Frances’s face, her lips all moist and plump for the taking. He leaned back on the sheets and grasped his hard on, softly stroking himself from base to head.
“Oooh you like that Allen? Like my hand on your dick?” imaginary Frances said in his head.
“Ye-sss….God, yeeeeessss” He whispered soundlessly as he played with the slit, smearing pre-come on and around the head paying extra attention to the thready vein that was pulsing hard and fast. Allen stuttered and removed his right hand from his dick and placed his fingers in his mouth lubricating them as much as he could.
“Such a good boy Allen. Suck it…..oh yeah.”
Allen blew out a breath and started moving his left hand again. Roughly pulling and twisting his dick, making it harder, he imagined Frances paying special attention to his erection, making sure he was so hard he was begging for more.
>
“That’s it…get all hard for me. I want to see your dick filling with blood all just for me. All mine Allen all mine…”
Allen closed his eyes, imagining Frances’s fingers slowly working him, getting him ready to fuck her brains out.
“Fu-cck…” Allen stuttered wincing as both fingers got to work on his sore dick. His left hand now erratically setting it’s own pace making his eyes cloud over with lust and want.
“That’s it, fuck my fingers Allen. I want to see you go crazy for me baby boy,” she’d say or whatever nonsense words, he wasn’t paying attention.
Allen slowly started to pull on and off his two fingers imagining Frances’s fingers there and feeling how soft they were. Enjoying how her soft fingers caught on his skin and rubbed some. Closing his eyes, Allen tried to picture what Frances would look like. How her green eyes would darken with desired want…how her dusky, moist lips would catch in the light, making them shine.
Her breath would ghost Allen’s mouth as she reached in for a kiss, using her fingers to caress him harder and faster, hitting Allen’s sweet spot. Allen jerked in surprise as his fingers rubbed over his sensitive tip.
“Frances…..” Allen moaned in wonder, his hand stopping for a brief moment to let his fingers do all the work.
“Alright Allen are you ready to fuck me? Fuck I know you’re dying for it. Want to fill me so full and so deep,” imaginary Frances said.
Allen’s dick was pulsing with need and want. Telling him he wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer. He imagined he was penetrating Frances, how she would start grinding slow against him but then increase her pace. He could see Frances all sweaty and beautiful, her muscles bunching and rippling when he slammed into her.
“Fuuccck Frances! So good and tight” he knew she was.
Allen’s eyes widened, and his breath came out in shallow pants. He gripped his now fully hard cock and started twisting again keeping his hips still even as they wanted to jerk, his breath burning his throat. He hurried his pace rubbing faster and faster. He bit his lip almost bloody, trying to hold in the moans that wanted to escape.
“Come for me Allen. Let go, I want to see you come for me,” imaginary her said all sultry and hot. With a whimper of Frances’s name, Allen came hard and fast. It splattered his hand and on his stomach. He milked himself through the aftershocks, his hand paying special attention to the meaty head. Fuck he would be feeling that for awhile.
*****
“Good morning,” Frances said as she padded miserably into the kitchen after throwing up, “How did you sleep?”
“Good. You?” Allen replied drinking his coffee, eyes on the newspaper in his hands.
“Great,” she said inspecting the table. There was a variety of things to choose from; toast, eggs, bacon, cheese, fruit, cereal…it was a veritable buffet. For some reason though, Frances stomach was still clenched tight after all the throwing up and she didn’t think she could keep much down. So she opted for some cornflakes with cold milk, and a hot cup of coffee. Allen studied her over his newspaper, looking worried.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Just still a bit queasy is all,” she replied spooning her cereal.
“Okay well…have you taken your pills?” he asked feeling helpless.
Frances shrugged. “I don’t really need them. I’m fine. I just…let me get this cereal down to notify my stomach that everything is hunky dory and then I’m sure it’ll allow me to eat all the good stuff.”
Allen forced a smile at that and went back to his fruit, eating slowly as he pretended not to watch her.
“So Kareem’s coming today,” he said by way of a conversation opener.
“Yeah, I’m meeting him at the airport later,” Frances said.
“You excited?” he asked wincing internally at the forced conversation. Sometimes he just didn’t know what to say to her.
“Well I feel anticipation,” Frances said introspectively. “But I’m basically half afraid because my head doesn’t remember knowing this person but my book says we’re really tight. I don’t know how I should behave. It's kind of like when I came home from the hospital…but less intense of course.”
Allen put his paper down. “I had no idea you were so stressed at the time,” he said leaning forward in his concern.
“I wasn’t…exactly. It was more like, a lot of questions going around in my head about how I should behave, relate to you…that sort of thing.”
“But…you’re over that now right?” he asked, his eyes intent on hers. she suppressed a shiver at having the full blast of those gray eyes on her.
“Yeah I’m over it,” she said, her voice slightly higher than usual. She hoped he didn’t notice.
“Good because the thought of you still pussy footing around is exhausting,” he said leaning back in his chair.
Frances picked up an apple and threw it at him.
“Hey!” he said shielding his face. “That’s domestic violence. I am totally telling.”
Frances laughed, “Oh really? Who are you reporting me to?”
Allen shrugged, “Social services.”
Frances laughed even louder, “Aww, do you want them to come take you away to foster care?” she teased.
Allen pretended to pout. “If that’s what it takes to get away from you,” he mumbled sulkily; his eyes lit up though, to see Frances laughing so freely. What with the awkwardness of being familiar strangers and being pregnant with its resultant shenanigans, he’d felt like the frown hardly ever left her face.
Frances snatched up his phone which was sitting on the side board and handed it to him, “Go on then, call ‘em,” she said challengingly.
Allen ignored her in favor of drinking his coffee.
“Ha! I knew it,” Frances said triumphantly dropping the phone back on the side board. “You can’t live without me.”
Allen glanced at her and smiled. “Yeah. I can’t,” he said quietly.
Frances stared at him in shock, literally frozen with it, hand suspended in mid-air as she was reaching out for some fruit. He continued to read his paper like he hadn’t just said something earth shattering. She unfroze her hand and forced it to continue on its trajectory to the fruit bowl, but inside her ears were buzzing and she felt dizzy. What was the appropriate response to that? She didn’t want him to think that she didn’t care; although her freezing over like an icicle probably meant that ship had sailed…but she didn’t want to react in an over the top way he would think was either contrived or crazy. She took a deep breath.
“Good to know,” she said aiming for a breezy tone before biting into the mango in her hand.
Allen looked up at her. “Yeah?” he asked. His voice sounded, hopeful?
“Yeah,” she said still shooting for casual but she wasn’t sure if she nailed it or not.
“Good,” he said heaving a deep sigh. “So I was thinking that maybe we should start moving toward a more…I mean…I thought we could go on a date,” he stuttered.
“Oh? Like..now? Kareem is coming,” Frances said in surprise.
“Yeah, I mean, I know…I just meant we could make a date. Go out some day soon,” he said peeking at her and then looking back at his paper.
“Yeah okay, I’d like that,” she replied.
“You would?” Allen asked brightening.
“Definitely,” she said with a single nod of her head.
Chapter 7
“Do you know we don’t actually go on dates?” Allen said as they waited for Kareem to clear airport security.
“Oh? Why is that?” she asked.
Allen shrugged, “Probably because we were already living together before we started dating?”
“So what? Married people still go on dates…unless I’m remembering that wrong,” Frances said.
“Yeah well…we behaved more like friends with benefits; you know? I mean we went on like work gigs; galas, benefits, dinners…but I don’t think we ever dressed up and went out for dinner an
d a movie or whatever.”
“Really. So we just what, had lots of sex and conversation?” she asked turning to face him with interest.
“No…I mean…we did go to the movies and we ate out sometimes; but it wasn’t like a date, date…you understand what I’m saying?”
“You’re saying you never ask me ‘Hey Fran, do you want to go to dinner with me?’ or something like that right?”
“Yeah…pretty much,” he agreed.
“It's cool. The other way sounds way better anyway. We should just continue like that.”
“We really can’t. You don’t know me anymore so you need to do that. People do that by going on dates.”
“If you say so,” Frances agreed with a shrug.
“Heads up,” Allen said and Frances turned to see where he was looking. There were several people coming out of the terminal but Allen seemed to be looking at a tall chocolate complexioned man with long dreadlocks. He was impossibly handsome too; there was no way someone like that would have gone out with someone like her let alone…
The guy lifted her off her feet and threw her in the air.
“Frances!” he cried happily. “It's been too long.”
“Whoa,” she replied clutching his shoulders to steady herself.
He put her down and then stuck his hand out for Allen to shake. “Allen? Good to see you man,” he said. Allen shook his hand but didn’t return the sentiment. He inclined his head instead, indicating that they should go.
“You hungry?” he asked. “We can stop for coffee before I drop you crazy kids off home and let you catch up.”
“What happened to Miguel?” Kareem asked. Frances was bemused to know that Kareem knew their cook’s name. It brought it all home to her that she was the one who was missing time.
“He’s still around,” Allen told him.
“Okay then, we can get coffee at home right?” Kareem said. Frances thought he was totally taking it for granted that Miguel would be happy to make them anything they wanted. She herself was still getting used to having a cook who would prepare whatever meal she needed. She stayed silent though and followed the two men to the car. Kareem was dressed in skinny jeans that outlined his legs to muscled perfection with a pink shirt half unbuttoned to show his smoothly toned chest. He had a silver chain with a pendant on the end hanging down between the V of his shirt. He looked like someone’s well-kept gigolo. What he didn’t look like was a man transitioning into womanhood. Why such a dreamily handsome man would want to change his sex was beyond her though, so she just got in the car after him and smiled shyly.
