The Reason I Breathe

by CORY CYR

  I can confess all this shit now because I don’t know if you can hear me. If you can, maybe you’ll think it was a dream or possibly not remember. The truth is until that day, I wasn’t sure how you really felt; I had so much self-doubt. The feelings I had for you always seemed one sided. I didn’t mind, not really. I’d waited so long, I’d take you any way you’d have me. Even if it meant I loved you more.

  I knew when I flicked your sweet spot because your legs snapped together and almost strangled me. Milky beads of fluid seeped from my cock as you erupted in my mouth. Your body shook as you cried out my name. I loved getting you off and having your taste on my tongue. Jesus, you tasted sweet. In all fairness, you did offer to blow me. I’ll have to admit I had second thoughts as I tried to tuck my stiff length into my jeans while getting dressed. But I had other plans. I wanted to take you to dinner, and I had a surprise.

  When we got to the restaurant, you seemed edgy. I swear, babe, you always seemed remorseful after sex. All the red flags were there. I was either too stupid to recognize them or too blind to care.

  I remembered you questioned my past sexual history. Was it because I’d told you, you had a pretty pussy. Because truly, babe, you do. I swear. You had concerns about my other liaisons. Like most women, you wanted a number. I sensed you felt inadequate. Now it was my turn to be anxious. I didn’t want you to know who I’d been before you. What a manwhore I was. I had no intention of revealing that part of my past to you. For my age, I’d fucked so many women it bordered on depravity.

  I’d never felt that during the time I was banging them, but now, sitting with the only woman I’d ever loved… How could I break your heart by telling you I’d indiscriminately fucked anything with a pussy? We always think of ourselves as men of the world, great lovers, the best of the best, when in truth, we’re just whores. I liked to fuck. It kept my demons in check, and when I was fucking, I was forgetting. I know it’s a lame-ass excuse, Ryan. If I had to do it all over, I would want you to be the only one. I told you I’d fucked many women, but I’d only ever made love to you. What I told you was the honest truth. I admitted it, hoping you’d understand.

  I tried to appease your concerns. I had no idea all the rumors I’d heard about you were false. I’d hoped my sexual experience would satisfy someone older, someone who had more mature lovers. I didn’t realize your sexual knowledge had been vastly overstated. I was actually happy about your lack of lovers. It made me feel superior knowing you hadn’t been with anyone worth the comparison.

  Your eyes began to fill with tears. I’d seen this happen before. Whatever it was, it filled me with apprehension. Feelings of impending doom. I had no idea if it was due to something I just said. Or was it something I hadn’t expressed? These mood swings were an oddity to me. Sure, my mother had them, but I just assumed it was booze related.

  I hadn’t been able to reach you yet. No matter how I acted or what I said. You still didn’t trust me. And it was killing me. Whatever was weighing so heavily on your shoulders, I wanted you to have faith we could get through it. I would have carried that burden for you. Once I got past the pissed-off part, I would have been there. Baby, we had so many trials. If you only had the confidence in me and believed in us, maybe we could have bypassed a few problems. That’s why I’m telling you this now. I need you to know what’s in my heart and what I’m carrying in my soul.

  ~17~

  My surprise? Well, I suppose it really was more of a shock to you. Hell, I thought you’d get all sentimental the minute you smelled the pine and saw the twinkle lights hanging in the tree farm. Let’s just say my enthusiasm didn’t match yours. If you’d been candid with me, I would have realized why Christmas held no meaning for you. I thought maybe you were missing your dad. Wishful thinking on my part, knowing how much animosity you had about him.

  I don’t claim I have the answers to why your dad treated you like he did. I believe he saw someone extraordinary when he looked at you. I’ll never believe Riley viewed you as a disappointment; I think he wanted you to reach higher and become your full potential. I think all parents want the best for their kids… well, except mine. I was on my own in that department. Good thing—I think for the most part—I turned out okay.

  Anyway, getting back to the Christmas tree farm. I’d brought you there to get the perfect tree. I squeezed your hand, hoping you’d get into it. You didn’t believe me when I spotted my choice. You rolled your eyes and chuckled when the worker unbundled the tree, shook it out, and spun it from side to side for my inspection as well as approval. You both acted as if I were some deranged tree person. It was full. It was perfect, and yes, it was the one. You stared at me with a questionable look and a slanted smile as you nodded reluctantly regarding our first Christmas tree.

  You gave me shit because I had holiday routines. To be honest, yes, I did, but until now, I had no one I cared about to share them with. I realized you probably wanted the tree to go to my apartment, but we spent ninety percent of the time at your house. You finally conceded when I suggested we keep it at your place.

  I think I might have overdone the festive joy. I dragged you from shop to shop for three days. The tree needed decorations, and even though I had some at my place, I wanted our decorations. I wanted everything with you to be new and have it belong to us. I wish I hadn’t brought up that Trina and I had spent a few holidays with your dad. I think it hurt you. The truth was he felt sorry for us. Our father was dead, you were MIA, and I think he wanted to provide some kind of normalcy for us and feel like he had a family.

  Every time I brought up your dad, you’d act envious. I know you told me it wasn’t jealousy, just confusion. I had no doubt it wounded you deeply. It appeared he gave the neighbors more fatherly love than his own flesh and blood. We never really talked about you while you were gone. But I knew he was proud. The man had a subscription to the New York Times as well as every other newspaper he could find in that area. He kept photos of any commercial modeling you did, as well as blurbs regarding any acting gigs. He even made me copies. You have no idea how I appreciated those. I was a teenage boy—don’t ask.

  Though we never had an intense conversation about you, I can say without hesitation he loved you and he was pleased with your accomplishments. I know he gave you a hard time while growing up, and maybe one day you’ll share that with me, but I think he cared about you the best way he knew how. Maybe he didn’t show it like you expected, but I know in my heart he loved you. How could he have not been honored to have you as his daughter? You’re beautiful, kind, and you went off to follow your dreams. You got out. You wanted more, and, baby, he had to respect that.

  At my house, the holidays… Well, it wasn’t a big deal, more like an ordeal. When I was younger, I associated Christmas with my father getting bombed, picking a fight with my mom, yelling, screaming, and fists flying. So I appreciated spending time with your dad. He was so much more of a father than the one I had. It’s truly a wonder I didn’t have the bitterness you did about Christmas.

  I wanted to start a new tradition with you, babe. My life felt complete. I was happy. My body felt alive with your love running through my veins, and my spirits were high. If we were going to share a life, then I wanted to whole ball of wax. Because for me, Ryan, I wasn’t your dad. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to prove something to me. I would always love you unconditionally.

  ~18~

  I’d really looked forward to Christmas Eve. I bought a shitload of gifts, including one I’d special ordered for you. This evening, I planned to tell my mother about us. I was tired of waiting. I wanted more than this hush-hush girlfriend-boyfriend relationship. I thought it would be enough. I should have been grateful for it, but I wanted so much more. I wanted a life with you.

  God, you looked stunning by the firelight. I had everything I’d ever wished for here and now. Today was my twenty-second birthday, and I knew what I wanted. You had neglected me for two nights because you were tired and had your period. Hey, I was a ma
n of the world… A little bit of blood—no problem. But you adamantly denied me. I hadn’t been a happy camper. We’d been together every night up until the last two nights, and I needed to feel myself inside you. My cock throbbed with need. I kissed you with such longing; I knew you had to be damp, and I wanted so badly just to trail my tongue across your panties and get the tiniest of tastes.

  Before I could fuck you on the kitchen counter, you put a drink in my hand. You’d made all the beverages non-alcoholic because of my mother. I guess you didn’t want a repeat of our last gathering. I tried to tell you I planned to let my mother know about us. You weren’t pleased with me at all. You continually made excuses for why we shouldn’t tell her. You figured there was no rush.

  That was the first time I brought up marriage and children.

  You were stunned. Obviously, much to my disappointment, you’d never even considered it. I just assumed eventually we’d get to that point. I figured it would be the next step we took. It was then I realized it had never even crossed your mind. You tried to cover up your alarm at my outburst by repeating how much you loved me. I think you knew how upset and frustrated I was by the revelation that an extended future with me hadn’t even been on your radar.

  You relented. You finally gave in. I think it was a ploy to get me off the subject of marriage and kids. So you made it clear to me you wouldn’t stand in my way if I told my mother about us.

  Best birthday ever. Everyone showed up just in time to break up our embrace. My mother appeared more stoic than usual. Normally, Quinn took that trophy, but tonight it was her. Trina and you seemed to have something secretive going on. I thought chicks only shared a bathroom in bars. Evidently, they do that anytime it serves a purpose. I wondered what was going on as you and her snuck out of sight for ten minutes. You both strolled back into the living room, arms linked together, adding intrigue to the smirks on your faces.

  We all sat around the tree, handing out the gifts and chatting. I recalled you murmuring a promise of a special birthday gift later. My dick twitched in anticipation. I handed you a small blue package, and for a moment, I saw your eyes go wide. I shook my head, reassuring you with a whisper that it wasn’t a ring.

  I knew you didn’t come right out and ask me, but I saw your fear when you looked at the box. Don’t think for a moment I didn’t want to get on one knee and present you with a ring. I’d been dreaming about it all my life. But it was something I wouldn’t do at Christmas and not with my mother present. You already expected the worse when she found out the truth about us. Yes, she would finally know we were having an affair. Unfortunately, she also knew her son. When I finally acknowledged our relationship, she would know what it meant—we were sleeping together.

  I watched as you unwrapped my gift and stared at the Tiffany insignia. When you held sparkling diamond star earrings up for all to see, I lost track of time and place. I gravitated toward you. Our lips touched and then our tongues. And I was immediately filled with a rushing sound in my ears and a hunger so deep it gnawed its way through my body. I embraced you tightly as I deepened the kiss, unaware of my mother’s shock and assessment. When I came back to reality, I confessed that you and I were a couple.

  I was blown away by my mother’s reaction. I was ready for a response, but this— I hadn’t prepared for. My mother became unhinged. She actually stood up and screamed she forbade it. Like I was some kind of child and she was admonishing me. I had no idea what her fucking issue was. Maybe she’d hit the bottle prior to coming over. Or possibly she’d finally snapped. Either way, her words meant nothing to me. You, on the other hand, oh, Ryan, I could tell she shook you to your core. Out of the problems that plagued you regarding our relationship, I didn’t want my mother’s outrage and disapproval adding to it.

  I attempted to tell my mother how much I loved you, but it seemed my feelings were irrelevant. Only what she said and how she felt mattered. I had no idea what just happened. Even my sister and Quinn were dumbfounded. Trina got my mother’s coat and prepared to take her home. I was literally shaking. I was so tired of people trying to fuck this up. Trina apologized for not only Christmas, but because it was my birthday. Fuck my birthday. Screw Christmas. The only thing I ever cared about was you. As long as I had you, it would always be a holiday. I’d already proven I could survive anything, so my mother being unstable would be easy.

  When we were finally alone, you tried to comfort me. I was keyed up with anger. Besides, I should have been reassuring you—making sure you were okay. You left me sitting on the sofa, seething, as you went and changed. I turned off all the lights and stared into the twinkle lights of our tree. With the fireplace, it had gotten warm, and of course, a couple Jäeger shots helped too. I took off my sweater and shirt and leaned back into the sofa. I needed to close my eyes and think.

  I felt your lips brush across mine as I opened my mouth just enough for your tongue. You tasted like peppermint and coffee. My cock swelled as your hands pushed onto my thighs, allowing you to slip your tongue in farther. My eyes opened slowly as they examined every curve of your body. My neck snapped forward as I broke off our kiss. I noticed the lingerie you wore and the mark on your body. I choked back a sob, allowing instead a deep sigh. You’d tattooed your body like mine. I blinked several times, attempting to comprehend what I saw. You’d inked my name on your arm.

  I knew what you’d endured. What you’d done was on a much smaller scale tattoo-wise, but I knew the pain and patience involved. Especially for your first time being tatted. You’d declared love to me many times, but this was different because you’d permanently marked yourself. My name was now etched deep in your skin forever. You cooed to me that you belonged to me. You asked me if what you’d done was all right. You’ll never know, because I can’t express strong enough what it meant to me. To have the woman I love brand her body with my name—it meant everything.

  You unzipped my pants and pushed them down far enough to have your way with me. You rode me hard that night. Best holiday tradition and new birthday festivity ever. When you positioned yourself above my cock and slid down slowly, the friction between us felt too good and I had to convince myself not to come. I squeezed your ass in the palms of my hands as you slid up and down on my length.

  At one point, I closed my eyes in concentration as I tipped back my head. It gave you full opportunity to lick and nip my neck. My eyes shot open as I grabbed your hips and forcefully rammed you down on my cock until I thought my brain would explode. I began to throb as your pussy contracted all around me. Between the motion and seeing my name tattooed on your body, I could have fucked you forever.

  Our release came at the same time. You moaned as I shuddered, wringing the last drop of come from our bodies. As I pulled out of you, I got hard again immediately. I shucked my pants off the rest of the way, planning to bring in Christmas morning in every way and position I could think of.

  Christmas morning was anything but merry. Fuck me, Ryan, we just didn’t have good luck during the holidays. It started out good. I served you breakfast in bed, wearing the black satin pajama pants you bought me. You were in those sexy boy shorts and a bra, tattooed and sexy as hell, when I woke you up. I trailed your tattoo with my index finger, then continued all the way to the crease in your shorts. They were skimpy little things and left nothing to the imagination, outlining your lips. It was then you’d confessed about possibly getting your pussy pierced. While that made my imagination run rampant and my cock grow thick against the satin, I told you your pussy was too pretty to be marred.

  We talked about Rory the tattooist while you ate your breakfast and we drank mimosas. You got a text from my sister regarding my mother and her fucking attitude. I was pissed. My mother just had to ruin Christmas. She’d already demolished Christmas Eve and my birthday. Jesus Christ. My family was so screwed up. I ended up dumping the breakfast tray all over the floor.

  I hated you seeing me get angry. I grabbed the phone and walked into the bathroom, closing the door.


  Trina and I argued. My mother flat out refused to come to dinner if you were there. I had no idea what the hell was going on. One minute she loved you like a daughter, and now she despised you. She was clearly insane. I’d never truly believed my mother was sick. I’d always made excuses for her because of my father. But this. I didn’t need anyone to persuade me. She was, without a doubt, certifiable.

  You wanted me to go to Christmas dinner without you. I couldn’t fathom you would think I would even consider that. Spending today without you wasn’t an option. I had to leave for a while; I was too hotheaded. I don’t know if it was my mother acting all crazed or my irrational feelings of self-doubt when it came to you. I felt emotionally overwhelmed. I drove to a donut shop to get us festive pastries. Why was it I always believed I had to prove my self-worth to you? I always sensed you felt uncertainty when it came to us. Was it the age difference or had you loved someone who never loved you back? I should have had your name tattooed on my body. Maybe that would have erased any doubts you had.

  Baby, we spent too much effort worrying about each other. With all the indecision around us, I’m surprised we got married. You kept your secret regarding Garrison well concealed, but you seemed to over share about your concerns about our relationship. I tried to pretend, when in reality, I was surrounded with suspicion and worry. I grew weary of being the constant motivator. It took me a long time to get you to believe. You were my family. You were my life.

  ~19~

  I wasn’t happy when I came back, festive sprinkled donuts or not. I ditched my jeans and pulled my pajama pants back on. I planned to have a quiet and solemn Christmas day with the woman I loved.