Transplanted Death
Page 25
Derek gave her a hug, trying not to crush the flowers. She wrapped her hand around the back of his head and kissed him on the cheek. His body stirred, a hopeful sign, but he didn’t want to get ahead of their plans for a romantic evening.
“Your mom picked up Danielle?”
Ellen nodded. “About an hour ago. She’ll keep her overnight, so we have the evening to ourselves.”
“Mmmm,” he growled. “I need to grab a shower and change.”
“Yes, you do.”
Derek sniffed at his arm pit. “Going right now. Should be ready in about twenty minutes.”
Once in the bedroom, Derek ditched the DVD in his bedside table—he doubted it would be needed—and deposited his dirty clothes in the laundry basket, then ran naked down the hall toward the bathroom in their two bedroom bungalow, using his shaving kit to cover the private parts; That is, until he flashed Ellen. She laughed—a good sign. Playfulness was on his mind.
He shaved, showered and then stood under a hot shower for at least five minutes, washing away the dirt and cares of the day. He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and returned to the bedroom, all the while peeking over his shoulder to see if Ellen would be watching. She was.
He selected a pair of olive-colored shorts, and a Caribbean shirt printed with palm leaves, ran his fingers through his hair to fluff up the brush cut, and splashed on CK One cologne, which had been a birthday gift from Ellen.
“Ta da!” he announced, returning to the living room. “Let me call ahead and see what kind of wait we’re gonna have.”
Olive Garden seemed especially crowded for a Thursday night, but they were able to get their name on the list by phone and only had to wait ten minutes. Derek held Ellen’s hand in the lobby, drawing appreciative glances from several of the women in the waiting area. They were escorted to a booth, ordered two glasses of Moscato wine and an appetizer of Mussels di Napoli.
Derek held his glass aloft. “For five great years, and fifty more.” They clinked glasses, and the atmosphere seemed perfect.
Each enjoyed a shrimp pasta dish for the main meal. Ellen caught him up on the latest antics of their daughter, who thankfully hadn’t appeared to suffer developmentally from her premature birth. Derek listened gratefully, intoxicated by another glass of wine and the happy sound of Ellen’s voice.
Lots of smiles passed between them, and at one point he felt Ellen playing footsie under the table.
The waitress brought a dessert menu, and as they studied the selections, Derek asked, “What was the name of that hotel where we stayed in Miami Beach for our second anniversary?”
“Hmmm… Capri… no, I think it was the Calypso.”
“Yeah, that was it.”
“Why’d you ask?”
“No particular reason.” Derek shrugged. “I was just thinking about it.”
Ellen laughed. “That’s where you wanted to watch that dumb porno flick.”
Oops. Busted. Derek felt his face flush. “Well, you have to admit it got us turned on.”
Ellen cocked her head and gave him her who-are-you-kidding look. “No. It got you turned on. All I need is you in my arms.”
That’s sweet, and hopeful.
They agreed to skip dessert, and Ellen promised to make a fresh pot of coffee when they got home. Derek paid the bill, and they were on their way.
The sky had cleared and the glare from the setting sun prompted both of them to don sun glasses. Every so often during the trip Derek felt Ellen’s hand brush the back of his hair or rub his shoulder. He felt twenty again, recalling their first date. They were friends first, and then lovers—maybe the best order on which to build a relationship. But Derek welcomed the prospect of a return to intimacy that had eluded them of late.
Over coffee, and with television as background noise, they chatted in the living room, until Ellen finally stood and said, “You get the lights in a few minutes, and I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”
Derek watched her duck in the bathroom and emerge a few minutes later and disappear into their bedroom. At that point he zapped the remote, went to the kitchen to turn off the coffee maker and lights, and after a brief bathroom stop, finally made his way down the darkened corridor to their bedroom.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he stepped out of his clothes and slipped under the sheet on his side of the bed and crawled next to her. Ellen wore a short cotton nighty, and sat propped against the cushioned headboard. She reached out and drew him near. Derek welcomed her embrace, and soon their lips met in a long passionate kiss. He held her close, and savored the familiar scent of her perfume.
He reached under the nighty and ran his fingers appreciatively over her smooth skin, working his way toward her breasts. She responded breathlessly and in turn traced circles on his abdomen, letting her hand move lower.
Something wasn’t right. He had sensed it… barely at half-mast… just as her fingers reached their mark. They both froze, and he hardly dared to breathe. Ellen withdrew her hand.
Derek flopped over on his back in disgust.
A minute passed with nothing said. Maybe he should have stuck with a glass of wine and not ordered a bottle.
“It’s okay,” she finally whispered.
It’s not okay. He’d never had performance issues. He thought about Manford’s video, and what Ellen had said at the restaurant. Finally, he decided if he wanted to salvage the evening he’d have to chance it.
He hurried through a brief explanation of why the video was in his nightstand, and asked if she’d mind if he played it.
“Honey, of course not.” She sounded sincere enough. “I just want to be close to you.”
He managed to find the DVD in the dark, make his way to the dresser where they had a combination TV/DVD player on top, pop the disk in, and push play. Recalling Manford’s warning, he selected the second scene. Soon a woman’s boobs filled the screen, followed by the back of a man’s head aimed for them. Derek turned his attention back to Ellen, their bed now lit by the flickering light from the TV. Ellen had unbuttoned her nighty and Derek emulated what he’d seen on the screen seconds earlier. The combination of a woman’s moaning and appreciative male grunts seemed to inspire him. Who knew he only needed verbal stimulation? Their own moans and panting soon mingled with the sounds from the video. He could sense himself getting harder by the second and conquest felt near.
“Oh wow,” Ellen said, which brought a smile to his face, until she added, “The guy on the screen looks like you.”
Derek turned to look at the screen.
Crap. He lost his erection almost as quickly as he’d found it. “That’s my brother.”
BLOOD PORN-Copyright © 2011 – Ray Flynt