Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  We didn't mean to, but we grew a lot closer. I don't think there was anything that I wouldn't have shared with her by the start of Sophomore year, and I certainly never thought that she'd hold anything back from me. I write that now and I still think it holds true. I'm just less naive than I once was.

  The day that I should have been smarter was in early fall, sophomore year. I'd just gotten my first flip phone (a state of the art Nokia Razr) as a "back to school" gift from my dad so I was super excited to get a call on it. I assumed that it was yet another guilt-gift for basically never being around. I'd long given up on having a close relationship with him, so I just decided to appreciate it.

  The first call I got was my mom reminding me to get some milk on the way home later that night. I learned early on that the price of this phone was that I became mom's errand boy. It was well worth it.

  The second call I got was from Kerry. She spoke calmly, acting as if it was no big deal, but I could hear it. She had the same kind of tremor in her voice that she had when Mark had tried to hurt her. She asked if I could come over if I wasn't too busy. I had plans that night to hang out with some friends of mine and go see a movie, but I cancelled them without telling her. I didn't push over the phone but I just knew that whatever she called about was important, at least to her. So it was important to me too.

  She let me in the door and then she hugged me. We had never shied away from physical affection, and we cuddled on the couch when we watched movies or whatever. That alarmed her mom and my dad, respectively, but once they saw that we never really did anything other than that, they stopped making a thing out of it. All that being said, Kerry was not and is not a hugger. At least not as a greeting, so that made me more worried.

  "Thanks for coming."

  Her voice was soft, her ebullience muted and replaced with a somberness. She couldn't meet my eyes.

  Her mom wasn't home so we just went and sat on the couch together. She wasn't ready to speak so I just handed her the chocolate bar that I'd picked up for her on the way over. She just stared at it for a long moment, and then opened it and had a bite before offering me some. I declined, as it looked like she needed the whole thing.

  "I can't believe how well you know me. I fucking call you and tell you it's no big deal and you show up with chocolate. I shouldn't ever try to keep anything from you. It's pointless."

  "What's up?" I said, finally. Internally I was going a little nuts. I mean, she looked like she was hurting pretty badly and I didn't know why so my depressive writer's brain was making up all sorts of scenarios, each one worse than the last. I didn't guess it, as it turns out.

  "I...I don't know if I can talk about it. I know how ridiculous that sounds, calling you here and then acting like a fucking diva, but...the thing is, it's not really my secret to tell. So I don't think I can share it. Not yet anyway. Are you ok with that?"

  "Um. Yeah. I can just be here if you need me to. But you know you can tell me anything."

  She just smiled, sadly. I put my arm around her and she just leaned into me, almost limp, completely vulnerable. We just sat there for probably a half hour, occasionally saying something to each other but mostly remaining silent. The light outside started to turn that beautiful orange that only seems to exist in your hometown in autumn. When she spoke, she did so hesitantly.

  "Do you...do you think something good can come from something bad?"

  "Like what?"

  "Like...say someone steals something. A car or something big. And they do it knowing its wrong, and they don't feel bad or stop. But then his brother borrows the car to get his wife to the hospital or something. If he didn't have it she wouldn't have made it. God, that is the worst analogy ever."

  "No, I think I see what you're getting at. The first guy still did something wrong, but that doesn't mean that his brother did. Especially if he didn't know where the car came from."

  Although I wasn't telling her what I thought she wanted to hear, this seemed to brighten her mood a little. But she frowned again.

  "But what if, like, it hurt someone, too. Maybe more than one person. What if it hurt you or your mom, for example?"

  "Ok, you're losing me. Do you mean like someone kills us and then steals my mom's car or something?"

  She laughed.

  "No...like say that someone...I dunno, beat you and your mom up, then took your car and gave it to me. I don't know where it came from, and I use it to drive you to school and we become great friends because of it. Is the second thing still good? Or is it ruined because of the first?"

  I was totally fucking lost.

  "How would I not know you were driving me to school in my own car?"

  "Oh my god, I don't know, because we fucking re-painted it or something. In any case, I didn't know it was yours so it was repainted before I got it. Am...am I bad for driving the car?"

  It was, for me an easy answer.

  "No. Of course not."

  "What if...if the thief broke your leg? Or like put your mom in a coma...or..."

  I held up my hand to stop her. She was actually looking like she might panic for a minute.

  "Even if I died, you'd still be fine. You didn't know, and you were just driving a car. I don't know what this is about but I don't think someone else's sins can fall on you. I mean, the bible says something about it but the bible says a lot of things."

  She wasn't religious but I still was.

  "It's...its just something that someone in my family did, a while ago. And I didn't know about it, but it really bothered me. Because...he's...they're my ancestor, you know? And if I resulted from that and...wouldn't that make me bad, too?"

  "I don't see how. Your like the most perfect girl I know."

  I realized right after I said it how it sounded. I hadn't meant it like a romantic thing, just a statement of fact. Of all the girls I knew, she was pretty, smart, and a really good person. It made sense in my head. I was all ready to explain it away when I saw her face.

  At first there was a little shock at what I'd said, then a small smile. That was pretty much what I expected. She was used to the way I spoke, and I tried to be very honest with her about almost everything. After that, though, her eyes got really big and her smile went away. There was something a lot like grief in them. Grief in something she'd lost? Or couldn't have? Over something I represented to her? I didn't know. It went away, to be replaced with what I came to think of as her adoring smile. It was in fact the first time I'd ever seen it, and I didn't really understand it. But she wasn't sad or worried, so I was happy.

  Then we hugged again, on that couch. The couch that I have so many memories of, before, but especially after this day. The hug lasted too long, but neither of us let go. I was aware of her small breasts pressed against me, and the heat of her body. And then I leaned in and kissed her. For a moment she seemed to be on the verge of pushing me away, stopping me. I thought I'd gone over a line, was ready to apologize, but then she responded. And it was amazing.

  It was just like the first time, except both of us were more experienced. If anything, we ebbed and flowed naturally, like we were made for each other, for this very moment. We made out for only a little while this time, but our hands roamed a little. Mine went as far as her ass, and she didn't stop me or complain. Hers ended up tangled in my hair and around my neck. I was pretty much ready for anything in the moment, but she drew back and put her hand on my chest, I stopped. I was worried that she'd be mad but instead she smiled warmly at me.

  "That felt nice. Thank you."

  It was as sudden as a summer storm and over just as quickly. We looked at each other and then just broke out in laughter. It lasted for a few minutes. I don't know what exactly possessed us in the moment, but by the time I left that night, we were back to pretty much normal. Again, I think we were closer, but neither of us really talked about it, nor was there any awkwardness between us or any attempt us to go farther. For my part, I really didn't want to ruin what we had and I already had my eye on a girl
in my history class. I noticed that Kerry was a bit less physical in how she showed me affection for a few weeks, but after that she was cuddling on the couch with me again. I thought of the incident as an aberration. A very emotional moment where we connected. That's all.

  I should have asked her again later what she was talking about. I should have asked myself why, after being pretty active in the dating scene for a few years by then, she just stopped going out with guys at all. Instead, I didn't ask any questions at all.

  * * *

  Now - Reunited

  * * *

  I grabbed a sandwich from the only deli in town and then walked home, trying to contain the feeling of anticipation that threatened to break out into pure optimism since I knew for sure that Kerry was in town. Despite what her mother had said, I didn't believe that she wanted to see me. I expected a polite, if distant, call, and maybe meeting for lunch at some point. I knew that I would take any opportunity to see her, though, even if it left me feeling a bit down.

  When I got home I decided to keep myself busy. There were a number of small things that needed doing around the house. I knew that mom was probably making a list and intended to hire a handyman to do all of it at once. I could save her a bit of money at least. I walked around and made my own list of things that I might need from the hardware store. When that was done I got my dad's tools and started working on things that I could fix right away.

  I fixed some bad wiring in a light fixture in the hallway. I took a wobbly end table out to the garage and tightened and braced one leg. I cleaned the filter on the dishwasher. I was busy changing the filter and cleaning other parts of her central air and heating when she got home.

  As I expected, she made me stop but was happy. She'd brought me some food as well and I was surprised to be hungry already.

  After I ate I was sitting on the porch and thinking of working out when my phone rang.

  It was a number that I didn't recognize. I was so looking forward to hearing from Kerry that I answered the phone without thinking about it. It was not her.

  "Hello," I said, my voice upbeat.

  "James? Oh god finally. I'm sorry but I just...please hear me out..."

  "Shanon," I said, flatly. I couldn't believe how stupid I was.

  "Look, can't we talk? I know...I know I fucked up, ok? I know, but if we could just meet...I know we can work this out..."

  She was desperate in a way that I had never heard before. I didn't really understand why. We were done and she had the guy she wanted.

  "Why are you doing this, Shanon?"

  "Because...because we had something. We have something. I love you. I do...and if you give me a chance I'll prove to you that I'm still..."

  "How does Gary feel about you calling me?"

  "I'm not seeing him any more. I cut things off. I did it for us. I don't want him...I never did."

  "Then why did you fuck him, Shanon? I'm not trying to be cruel, I'm really not. There's just no way I can trust you anymore. You have to know that."

  I could hear her crying now. In my mind's eye I could even see her trying to control herself. She hated crying in front of people, it made her feel like she was manipulating them.

  "Please...James, I...just meet me for coffee. I'll do..."

  "I'm not even in town, Shanon. I'm sorry for the things I said. I truly am. I was hurt and I hurt you. That's how I am. I believe that we had something, but it's broken. If we stayed together, I'd never trust you and you'd resent me and it would end the same way."

  "James, I...I just..."

  "Talk to someone, Shanon. Just not me. I can't take this. It hurts and I can't take it. I hope that you have a good life. Please don't call me again."

  I hung up. Fuck. I felt like a wreck, exactly the same as I had right after she had told me that she'd cheated on me. I would have told her that but it just would have hurt her more, and I no longer wanted revenge. I only wanted to feel better, like before I knew.

  No. Even then, I wasn't completely fulfilled. Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted to feel like I used to. Like Kerry made me feel when she looked at me with that simple, adoring, smile.

  I heard a noise and saw that mom was looking at me through the screen door. I offered her a wan smile by way of greeting.

  "I'm sorry. I came to ask if you'd like some tea and I overheard the end of that. Are you ok?"

  I sighed. She could be intrusive if she thought she could help, so this was downright restrained of her.

  "No, but I will be. And yeah, I'd love some tea, thank you. Whatever you're having will be good."

  Instead of working out, I went inside, got my laptop and did some writing at the kitchen table. If I couldn't have what I wanted then I'd drink my tea and write some escapist trash. My world of fancy, at least, was a place that I didn't feel like this. I didn't even really exist there, I just observed the characters that I wrote, doing the things they did. I even wrote it in third-person so I could keep my distance when bad things happened. When I, the cruel god of this world, hurt them, I could sit back and congratulate them on their ability to survive and grow, without having to feel what they did or feeling responsible for the awful things in their lives. Maybe I'd kill some of them today.

  After an hour or so I realized that instead I'd written my main characters something like a good ending. Not a perfect ride off into the sunset, but people who had been hurt by each other or by chance were recovering, finding each other. I couldn't even hurt the people that I'd made up without giving them a chance to be happy. I wondered what kind of psychopath the creator of our world was, to give so many people such bad endings.

  I wasn't truly religious anymore, but I believed in some things still. Just not in things that would help those in need. I felt tired from the catharsis, like I'd actually walked alongside them. And, to be honest, a little better too. The odd cast of light in the room let me know that I'd been at it for longer than I'd thought, and that twilight had arrived. I was just thinking how I needed to get the hell outside of my head for a bit when a loud knocking made me jump.

  It was at the back door, which was right off of the kitchen. I took a deep breath and stood up, wondering who would use the back door on a Sunday. Knowing that my mother was most likely napping in her room, I decided just to answer it.

  Her light brown hair was is in a long ponytail. She was wearing a large earthy red sweater that was loose but hugged her curves and hung low over her waist. Tight, worn jeans completed the ensemble. Her eyes were still that sharp blue and there was an eager little smile on her face, familiar to me as my own. Her ears and face were a bit red from the wind that had picked up in the afternoon and I thought that she should have worn a hat.

  "Hey," Kerry said, as though it were over a decade ago and she was just coming over to play some Street Fighter.

  I just stood there and blinked for a moment. Her smile went away and her brow furrowed. I saw a duplicate of my own fear of rejection looking back at me. I came back to myself.

  Instinctively, perhaps foolishly, I just stepped out and hugged her. She hugged me back, hard. Feeling her warmth against me was, even more than stepping into my old house, like coming home. I finally let her go, but I didn't want to. We stepped back and I was grinning and her smile had come back far wider than before. We were somehow holding each other's hands, but I didn't remember doing that.

  "It's good..." I started.

  "Yeah. It really is," she said.

  "Come on inside, you must be freezing. You want tea? Coffee?"

  "I'd like an Irish coffee but something tells me that your mom doesn't have any single malt laying around."

  "No, not even communion wine, but we do have some really great fair trade Kenyan blend."

  "That sounds great."

  I got the coffee out and started the water. This was a french press house, so I had to grind it first. Kerry watched me as I worked. She made no attempt to hide it and it didn't make me self-conscious. If I hadn't been focusing on my task then I'd
have been staring at her openly as well.

  I turned around and leaned against the counter while we waited for the water to boil. I wanted to walk over just to be closer to her but I resisted. She seemed to want to reconnect right now and I didn't want to ruin anything by being overly eager.

  "When did you get back?" she asked.

  "Friday night."

  She actually looked a little upset.

  "You didn't come over on Saturday?"

  I couldn't help but chuckle a little.

  "I didn't want to just rush over there like a dork. I'd just gotten in and I wasn't even sure you'd be there."

  "Didn't your mom say I'd be around?"

  "Um. She might have said something like that. To...to be honest, I wasn't sure that you would want to see me. And I didn't want to deal with that right now."

  "Why would you think I wouldn't want to see you?"

  "The last two years are what made me think that you wouldn't want to see me."

  It was a little more direct than I intended and I'm sure that I came off a little harshly, but it was true. She stopped for a minute and looked down at her hands.

  "I'm sorry. I know I haven't been a good friend. Things were...well, complex. Can we leave it at that for now? If you still want to know, ask me after I've had something to drink, ok?"

  "Fair enough," I said, sighing. "How are you holding up? I mean, after the divorce?"

  I expected more frowns but I got a laugh, slightly bitter.

  "James, I'm holding up great. I'm stuck here right now, but I'm out of that house, and he's out of my life. Really, seeing you today is the trifecta of awesome."