The Boss
Page 4
I sit at home, microwaving yet another two dollar frozen meal when there is a knock at my door. I’m not expecting anyone. I get up and open the door. The smile flees from my face as I see Samuel standing there.
“What do you want, Samuel?”
The conversation starts off fine then somewhere we took a wrong turn and ended up arguing about this and that. I made it clear that I wanted something more from him. He made it clear that he still isn’t comfortable with that. I apologized for staying until morning that one time. He just yelled at me. I yell back about how distant he has been and how dare he try to kiss me like that in the garage. He sort of apologizes while going back to why he doesn’t want us together.
Another odd turn is taken and our anger turns into passion. It starts out innocent enough, yanking on each other’s clothes and hair between hot, tongue-filled kisses. Then things get a bit steamy when our clothes are strewn about, hit shirt on my TV, my pants hanging off the ceiling fan.
I am perched on my kitchen counter with my legs wrapped around his hips. He has one had on my thigh, his fingers digging in like a lion holding its prey. His other hand is on the back of my head holding a fistful of hair so that I can’t move my head. The microwave announces the doneness of my food and I don’t care.
He has his cock inside me, thrusting forcefully up inside me. I groan loudly as he yanks my head back and bits hold of that tender spot between my neck and shoulder. I run my nails down his back as he sucks on my neck.
I’ve had enough and I bring my hand behind his head, grasping his hair, and yanking his head away from my neck. I force my head forward and lock lips with him. Our lips are pinched between our teeth and I force my tongue inside his mouth. He moans into the kiss as the furrow on his forehead tightens.
He brings is hands to grab hold of my taught rear and lifts me of the counter. I moan as his full length enters me. Next thing I know I am pinned up against the wall. I hope the wall didn’t crack with the force of him pushing me against it. His thrusting increases in power and speed.
My screaming moans echo through the room, through the walls. The neighbors bang on the wall for us to quiet down. They are shot down by a hollering moan from Samuel’s lips as his cock throbs inside me, shooting his seed as deep as possible. I can’t help but moan myself at the amazing sounds that emit from him.
He sets my feet down on the floor and pulls himself from me. I make it clear that we’re not done, grab his shoulders, and quickly turn on my heels to shove him up against the wall with my lips locked against his. He grunts at the thrust and drags his nails over my back. I bite his shoulder and suck hard against his skin, leaving a purplish passion mark.
I know I don’t have the strength to lift him up, so I pull him down onto the cold tile with me. I flip him over and smack him right on the ass. He moans out as I thrust my cock inside him. My hands are tight on his hips, pulling him against me as I thrust forward into him. I moan loudly, making the neighbors bang on the wall again.
He grabs something close by to him, which happens to be a shoe, and chucks it at the wall. The neighbors quite down and battle our noise by turning up their TV. A devious grin crosses both of our faces and we moan louder. I thrust as hard as I can in and out of him. He scream out with immense pleasure and grabs his cock to stroke it while I take him.
The mix of me behind him and his hand on his sensitive member take him over the edge. He jolts and bucks, spewing his seed all over my floor. My fingers dig into his hips as I scream out and announcement of my own orgasm. I thrusts each pleasured pump against him as my body shakes.
I slowly remove myself from him and we sit on the clod floor on opposite sides of the tiny kitchen from one another. After catching my breath, I crawl over to him. He hugs me close against his chest.
We sit on my kitchen floor, wrapped around one another. We exchange a few kisses. I’m still mad at him and I imagine he is still mad at me, but I love this. I love that we are embracing, naked on the floor.
I try to convince him to stay with me for the night. That was apparently the wrong thing to do. It ends in another argument and him collecting his clothes, getting dressed, and walking out the door without another word.
I try my best to get over that night but even after three days I’m still furious. Since my studio is being rebuilt and I have some free time, I go out to some of the nearby hang out spots and mingle with new people. Apparently I should have done this years ago. I got plenty of free coffee, a few lunches, and even a date out of it.
The date was subpar in comparison though. He was sweet, but barely a seven in the attractiveness department. He paid for the meal which was a burger and fries from a nearby fast food place. He tried to kiss me at the end of the night, but I wasn’t feeling it. When I told him I didn’t want to, he just yelled at me, called me a “Gold-digging faggot”, and left.
I sat in the stairwell of my apartment for at least an hour, crying my eyes out. I am angry with Samuel and angry with myself. I want him to be with me but he is so stubborn and thick-headed that he won’t even stay the night. We’ve done almost everything in the book except literally sleep together.
I get up and walk the two miles to my studio. There’s nothing more I can do here and the construction is about a week from being done, but the floors are done. The walk in the cool night breeze is quite nice. I enjoy it for the most part. I manage to collect my thoughts and get them in order.
The keys in my pocket get stuck on a loose string so it takes a moment to yank them free. I unlock the door and open it. I look up to see someone standing on my dance floor. The sight makes me freeze in my tracks. I can feel my heart beating in my skull. The thoughts I had all lined up, scatter like papers in a windstorm.
Samuel approaches me. “Avery, I wanted to apologize. Things have gotten out of hand and they shouldn’t have.”
I fold my arms against my chest and hear him out. He pulls me into the main office and shows me the boxes of children’s dance shoes that he has bought with his own money for my students. I can’t even manage to thank him. One, I’m still mad at him. Two, I just can’t believe that anyone would do that for me and my students.
“Avery, I’m willing to try a more serious relationship with you if you will still have me.”
He holds my hands softly in his and looks deeply in my eyes. I want to say yes but I can’t. His gift is amazing but everything up until now has hurt me, hurt my being. He bought me hundreds of dollars worth of equipment and costumes for my students, but I can’t.
I look back in his eyes and I can feel the tears welling up. My body leans in close to his, our lips only inches away. I can feel his breath on my upper lip. He doesn’t move in to kiss me but I can feel him smiling. I struggle with wanting to kiss him and smack him across the face.
I drop his hands and push my way past him without a word. I leave the building, not even stopping to lock the door behind me. I can hear him following me and I don’t care. I keep walking towards home and he keeps pace with me. For two miles he follows me.
Samuel tries and tries and tries again to apologize for everything. Too little, too late. Although, this is the most I have heard him speak. I get to my building and he follows me in. I get to my door, step inside my apartment, and slam the door in his face.
“I’m so sorry Avery,” he says, his voice cracking as he starts to cry. He turns around and leans up against my door, sliding down until he is sitting in front of it. “I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t think it would be fair to you to start something when I was in such a vulnerable state.”
I lean up against the door on my side, listening to him. I can feel a lump in my throat.
“I was wrong, Avery. I want a relationship with you. I want you as my boyfriend, and me to be yours. Honestly, I would love to spend the night with you. I was afraid before. Now I just know that I want you. I love to see you happy. I love when we talk. I have loved every moment of being with you. I didn’t know I
could feel this way about, well, another man.
Uncle John was awake for a little bit and I was able to talk with him. I told him about you and just couldn’t stop talking about you. He laughed and told me that I hadn’t mentioned Clearwater Industries once. Just you.”
I sit across the entryway against a wall facing the door with my head buried in my knees. Hot tears slide down my cheeks and I do my best to stifle my sobbing so he can’t hear me. I want to open the door and hold him.
“Even if you don’t let me in, I’m going to stay here. I meant it. If our first time staying the night together involves me sleeping in your hallway, I will.”
I can hear the sadness in his voice, the sincerity. He is stubborn enough to spend the night in the hall. I get up and put my hand on the door. I decide it is best that I just go to bed and deal with it in the morning, assuming he is still there. So, I collect myself and find my way to the bedroom, leaving him sobbing against my door while I sob into my pillow.
It takes at least an hour of tossing and turning to get to sleep. Alas, it is not meant to be. Barely an hour after I finally get my eyes closed I am awoken to loud knocking on my door. I get up, fuming that he would knock on my door at this hour after saying he would stay out in the hall.
I stomp over to the door, ready to verbally rip him a new one. I swing open the door and he’s not there. No, not Samuel, a police officer. My demeanor completely changes.
“Something the matter, officer?”
“Sir, we got complaints about some shady person sleeping in the hallway. Do you know anything about it?”
I did my best to act shocked. “A vagrant sleeping in the hall? No, I’m sorry.”
“He was found right outside your door. We figured we would check in to make sure everything was okay.”
“Yes, sir. Everything is fine. Thank you.”
Happy with the answers, the officers leave with Samuel in tow. I watch and he looks back to see me glaring at him from my doorway.
***
Samuel hasn’t been handled like this before and he does not appreciate it. Luckily this is only a minor incident. All he has to do is pay a few hundred dollars in fines and spend the night in a cell. Something like this isn’t something that will tarnish his reputation or his company.
He gets thrown in a cell while the officers decide his fine amount. He sits there with the two bums that are in for the night. He tries not to sit too close but in such a small space, it is hard to sit far away. He hangs his head. Avery saw him and did nothing to stop them.
After about an hour one of the officer’s comes up to the bars. He immediately jumps up and stands by the door. The officer tells him and amount that he will have to pay. He asks to call someone and the officer laughs at him.
He doesn’t think the question was all that funny. He goes back to sit on the cold bench in the cell. Left alone with his thoughts he is not sure whether to feel angry or sad. He settles on a mix where he is visually angry but internally sad.
Another hour goes by and he’s still sitting there with his fists clenched trying not to do something stupid. He gets up to stretch his legs and walks around the cell. All he wants to do is call his secretary to get the money so he can go home. The officers won’t let him.
He paces, trying to think of something else to do. Morning light is starting to seep through the windows of the precinct. He hasn’t slept a wink and he can feel it. He sits back down just in time for an officer to approach telling him that his secretary has posted his bail and he is free to go.
Samuel collects his things and trudges towards the main lobby, hoping his secretary brought him some breakfast. He walks into the lobby and looks around for a moment. He doesn’t see his secretary.
Then someone stands up. His eyes are drawn to the messed up mop of soft golden hair. Standing there with a sad smile on his face is Avery.
***
I didn’t want him to get arrested. Really, I didn’t. But I did want him off my stoop.
I’ll admit that it was a bit heart-warming that he spent most of the night sitting there for me. I waited for a long time. I walked around my apartment, took a shower, sat on the bed, sat on the couch, then wandered around again. I pondered everything.
Eventually my mind decided that the best thing to do was to drop all the unhappy feelings, bail him out, and just admit everything to him. If he wants me that badly, then he’ll still want me. Right?
As soon as the sun rose I was out the door. It didn’t take long to get downtown to the precinct where he was being held. The longest part was waiting for their computers to pull up the hold order on him.
They told me his fine amount. I wrote them a check that I knew I would be able to pay whether or not I got any money from him. They asked who I was and I said I was his secretary. They didn’t think anything of it.
After about twenty minutes I saw him walk through the door. I wanted to run to him and kiss him all over but I didn’t. I managed a smile and stood up so that he saw me.
He ran up to me and hugged me tight.
“I’m sorry Avery.”
“No, Samuel. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to spend the night here.”
He kisses me softly on the lips. We take a few moments to walk out of the building to continue our conversation. We kiss again, each time easing both of our consciences.
“I want to be with you.”
“I want that too.”
I hug him tight, not wanting to ever let go. He holds me close and kisses me. I smile at him and he smiles at me. Then he says something that I never expected to hear from his lips, at least not now.
“I love you, Avery.”
I can feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. I wrap my arms around his neck, locking lips with him. He lifts me off the ground in a playful twirl. When we stop twirling and he puts me down and I look deep into his eyes.
“I love you too, Samuel.”
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The Chase
A Western Lesbian Romance
Texas, 1969
I'd been looking for Emma for over three months now in the Texas flatlands. It was grueling, going from small town to small town, chasing a man who seemed to be a ghost. Now I was headed to a little spit of humanity in the middle of nowhere to talk to a man named Emmanuel about bringing him on the journey as a guide, of sorts. I'd seen an advertisement in one of the papers—gun for hire. This perked my curiosity, and I'd sent out a telegram. At first, I hadn't really expected a response, but I received on in short order. This Emmanuel fellow seemed to know quite a bit about Emma. I wasn't sure how, maybe because the bounty on Emma's head was pretty high at this point, but I knew that it was a lead I needed to track down. I was running low on funds, and Emma would be the paycheck I needed to get back on my feet financially.
The sun hung high in the desert's sky, beating down on my hat with the steady energy of a campfire that never flickered or faltered. The plane that stretched out ahead of me was spotted with cacti and small shrubs. The only real feature of the landscape was the dirt road I followed. I didn't think there was much chance that I'd run into Indians out here on the plane, but I couldn't afford not to keep a wary eye out for them. I'd heard of other bounty hunters who had been lulled into a false sense of security by the desert's plains, and they didn't end well for the bounty hunter. The local Indian tribes, as sparse as they were, took great joy in showing the newcomers to their land who actually ruled the wastes. I had no doubt, and didn't need them to prove a point to me.
Up ahead a mesa rose from the desert floor. The dirt road ran right by it; the mesa's sizable shadow crossed it, offering some relief from the sun. At first, I was happy that there would be a respite from the heat that kept bearing down on me, but then I remembered one of the stories I'd heard around the c
ampfire just last week. I'd been at a ranch trying to gather information about Emma, and ended up staying the night. I traded stories with the rest of the Cowboys, and eventually the circle around the campfire grew quite.
“You know,” one of the old-timers said. “There are ways that the Indians can sneak up on you out on the plane. They hide in dips in the terrain, and keep their horses quiet until the last moment, when they descend on you with war whoops that make blood run cold.”
Everyone had nodded. It seemed like this was something the old-timer brought up a lot, but I'd never heard it before and was glad to listen.
“Another thing they do,” he continued, “Is hide behind mesas and wait for the unsuspecting to ride by.”
His words echoed through my head. My red hair would be something the Indians valued greatly, and even more so because of my trade. There was no way I wanted to run into any of the tribes that frequented the planes, so I pulled my horse's reins so that it pulled to the right. I'd take the long way around the place where the mesa's shadow crossed the road, venturing out into the desert a little ways where it would be much harder for any interlopers to ride out from behind the mesa and surprise me. I had my rifle with me, along with my pistols. The pistols were more for city work—close in stuff. But my rifle, hell, there wasn't any chance that a few bandits were going to get me if I had enough time to get off my horse and use it as a brace for my rifle. I could shoot the pit out of a plum at near three hundred yards, and wasn't much worse further out. I hoped it wouldn't come to that, though.
As my horse trotted off the path and carefully made its way across the desert, picking places without rock or other debris which would trip it up, I thought about Emma. She was proving to be one hell of an outlaw. Wanted for everything from cattle rustling to kidnapping, there wasn't much that Emma hadn't done. The law, of course, was furious. Even more, so that Emma seemed to have no problem evading them. Part of the problem, I knew, was that the Marshals just didn't have the manpower to go after petty criminals, even criminals who had quite the history of flaunting society and its rules. Now that Emma had headed out onto the planes, there was no way that lawmen were going to come looking for her—it was a needle in a haystack. If the authorities really wanted to catch Emma they'd need to send out troops, Calvary most likely. But even then, Emma hadn't had a problem evading them in the past. Some said she'd done so by using her womanly charms against the sergeant who had captured her, while others said that she could slip out of handcuffs like some kind of magician.