Love is Strange: A Taboo Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  “Hmm. Maybe she is up for the challenge.”

  Cinder roamed through the halls of the theatre, her gown gracefully swaying behind her. She moved in the dark, keeping to the shadows, where no one could see her. The element of surprise was so important.

  Gabriel checked his watch as he sat in his private box alone. The show would be beginning soon, and he was looking forward to seeing Cinder perform. Suddenly, Gabriel Cartwright knew that he wasn’t alone in the dark of the theatre. A hot breath blew against his neck, as a gentle hand brushed over his shoulder.

  “Mr. Cartwright…” the voice cooed in nothing more than a whisper.

  “Cinder…” Gabriel replied in a surprised voice.

  “Sssshhh…” she requested in a most urgent voice.

  Gabriel couldn’t see her but he knew that she was there. He peered out at the audience wondering if they could see her there, the star of the show, standing behind him.

  “What if they see you?” Gabriel asked in a concerned tone of voice. “The press are here… and critics…”

  Cinder laughed innocently, “Oh, Mr. Cartwright. This will be our little secret. Yes?”

  Gabriel gulped down air. Something about the way that she spoke unnerved him. There was something undeniably sexy about her tone of voice. There was a lethal edge to it, a hint of danger, and Gabe couldn’t deny that it turned him on.

  “Yes,” he replied in a gravelly tone of voice. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but he couldn’t deny the fact that whatever Cinder wanted to do, he would let her.

  She ran her finger down the length of his tie, while still remaining standing behind him. He could feel her breasts pressing into his back, a fact that made the bulge in his pants even harder than it had been before. Gabriel was glad they were in the dark. There would be no hiding his arousal. Gliding her finger along his shoulder and down his arm, Cinder gracefully moved in front of him, dropping to her knees. She was a sight to behold, in Gabriel’s eyes. He thought she looked nothing short of angelic, but the look in her eyes hinted at something more devilish. Licking her lips, Cinder then pressed out her tongue, wiggling the tip just slightly.

  “Mr. Cartwright…”

  “Yes, Cinder…”

  “Can I call you Sir?”

  Gabriel gulped loudly. Reaching out his hand to her chin, Gabriel clenched it tightly. The tiniest of smiles grew from his lips. Playing her game, Gabe replied, “Only if you’re a good girl, Cinder…”

  “I’ll be a good girl, Sir…”

  “Show me…”

  “What would you like to see?”

  “Show me what a good girl you can be. I’m sure you have some secrets you are ready to unfurl...”

  Cinder batted her eyelashes and smiled softly at Gabriel. “Gabriel, you have no idea…” she cooed seductively.

  Cinder smiled sweetly up at Gabriel. Shrugging her left shoulder once, she reached behind her and began unzipping her gown half way. Sliding the straps of her gown down, Cinder stood on her knees, exposing her ample breasts for Gabriel to see. He attempted to reach out to her, but Cinder stopped him.

  “Sir wait…”

  “You should give Sir what he wants,” Gabriel said, not liking to be teased.

  “I want to show you what a good girl I can be…” Cinder said sweetly.

  Gabriel didn’t say a word, and waited patiently to see what Cinder had planned for him.

  Lifting her round breasts, Cinder brought her right nipple up to her mouth, allowing the tip to trace her red lips. Keeping eye contact with Gabriel, she stuck out her tongue as she began licking and sucking upon her own nipple. Gabe’s lips parted just a little, as he watched her pleasure herself.

  But then, just as Gabriel was about to relieve himself of the pressure that was building, she fled again, disappearing as quickly as she had come. Rushing to back into the darkness, Cinder giggled.

  “Just wait until he finds out my biggest secret of all… What Sophia was denied, Cinder will claim as her own.”

  To be continued...

  Keeping Secrets

  AVERY REIGNS

  ONE

  “Finally,” I mutter to myself, tossing the two large pillows out of my way from off the couch. I gather my dirty blonde, wavy hair up and tie it back into messy bun. I used to take the time to doll my hair up, but more often than not these days, it just gets pulled up into a ponytail. I used to have so much more energy but these long days, and even longer days off, are slowly kicking my ass.

  I need a real day off.

  Sighing deeply, I cover my lap with a fluffy blue blanket, just one of the many options I have close by. The couches are usually a second bed for us on the many late nights we all have as a family. With work and school, this cushioned throne is our sanctuary when we need to get work done. Someone is normally sprawled out across the cushions at any given time of the night.

  Stretching to the left, I swipe the remote from the cushion and click on the TV. Just in time for the baking championship. This show is a little guilty pleasure of mine since I hardly know how to bake.

  Thirty whole minutes to myself to relax and do nothing, I remind my tired body.

  Five days of work—twelve hours each—and one day to catch up on chores around the house that normally get swept under the rug. Tax season is kicking my ass this year. This is the first season in a private branch where every appointment has been kept by the costumer. Normally, I would settle for the walk-ins but that became a little too feast or famine style for me. I wanted something a little more consistent, I just didn’t realize it would be this overwhelming.

  I kick my bare feet up onto the ottoman and glance out the window. Today could not have been any longer. I was up before the sun, cleaning the house and prepping for the day, writing out my list of shit to do before I even had any coffee—the bank, the market, and the gym, all before noon. After running errands, I managed to wash, dry, and put away all six loads of laundry that has been staring at me for the past few days. That’s always a small victory of mine; being able to get laundry done for four people and put it away makes me feel more accomplished than getting someone a return they weren’t expecting.

  The twins both had their final exams and last cheer meet for the season this week. They’ve been pushing so hard to graduate early, so I try to keep their required house tasks to a minimum. I may be tired, but I will miss them more when their time is taken by a million other things.

  Soon, they will be in college and taking on new adventures. Baylee and Breann have no idea they will be getting cars to help them with their new journey. Their father feels it's best to give them a chance to succeed by giving them each a set of wheels to ride around in. Though they opted to stay close to home, their schedules will be entirely too different and there just isn't enough time, or coffee, in a day to sync them together. Most of my afternoon was spent between the car lot, the DMV, and the storage facility that will be storing the cars until the end of summer. We could just give the cars to them early, but there would be no fun in that.

  Exhausted and mentally drained, I take another sip from my glass of Rosé and flip back and forth between channels during the commercials. There has to be a better option for shows these days. This is probably why I hardly watch television anymore, I think to myself, giggling slightly as the effects of the wine begin to take hold. I don’t normally drink, so this glass is an extra special treat and is putting me right on the border of being buzzed and wine drunk.

  I have been holding onto this bottle for about a year now. Unopened, it normally stares at me from the rack like a silent count down. A small gift that I cherish and stored away until the time got closer. It only holds significance to me; anyone else would just look at it as a tasty treat, devouring it in its entirety just for the sake of drinking some wine. I savor the flavors mingling together in the glass. The bright citrus and sweet melon are strong and upfront. I admire the comforting chill—it helps soothe more than one ache I have.

  Shadowy
movement over my feet catches my attention. Across the street, I see the Drakemire’s are home. I watch as they pull up their driveway and start to unload the day. I’ve never cared too much for the mother, Lynn. She is always overwhelming, way too chipper and a do-good type that I honestly picture dropping a few antidepressants in her coffee for breakfast just to calm her down a bit. The dad, Robert, seems pleasant to be around; judging from the few occasions I’ve spoken with him. Their daughter though, is who I patiently watch. Her curls bounce on her back as she strolls up the walkway. It looks like she got a haircut. Her cutoff jean shorts show off her long, slender legs. I really wish she didn't have on that hoody, I think to myself as I bit my lip and groan internally.

  I lick the remaining sip of wine from my lips, making a mental note to compliment her on the new do. How fitting it is that they just got home while I’m enjoying the wine they brought over as a holiday gift. She handed it to me personally with her sweet smile and bubbly eyes peering up at me.

  The clouds outside are losing their bubble gum pinks and powder blues, trading them for darker hues of greys. The sun sets further behind the mountain ridge, casting shadows all around, making their home look like a Victorian doll house. One of the many reasons I love this neighborhood. The quiet streets are void of unnecessary traffic, the picturesque landscapes and homes leave you feeling as if you’ve stepped into an old-time movie. It’s peaceful and nostalgic.

  We've all grown to respect where we live and each other. When Marsha down the street couldn't get anyone to fix her lawn, the neighborhood spent the summer putting in manual labor together. Her trees are still the best on the block. When Tim and Veronica’s son was set to be deployed, we all threw the biggest party to celebrate his honor and to say thank you for wanting to protect this country. We all pitch in where we are needed.

  I’m not naïve like a few of the woman around here. I know that even though we are close, we all have dirty little secrets to hide.

  I'm not an exception to the rule. I promise I don’t lack on skeletons hanging beautifully bound in my closet. I just make sure to cover my tracks a little better. Playing the part of the perfectly pleased housewife works well for me. I am pleased, but to a certain extent; always showing the same attention and affection that is given to me, even if I've hidden my desires and fantasies. Even my closest friends have no idea of the amazing things I dream about. I wouldn’t dare speak such things to them, their eyes would cast judgment even though they have no room to speak.

  Nathaniel has his faults, but he is good to us. He works hard and always makes time for his daughters. When we first met in Junior High School, I didn't think we would make it past the dating stage since we are so different, but somehow, we managed. Hell, I thought I would end up with his best friend. He still doesn’t know that her and I were seeing each other for years before we called it quits and he and I said, “I do”. Or that she blames me for their friendship falling apart. Things weren’t planned out really well, getting married young and having children was the thing to do at the time. But he and I have built a life together over the last twenty years and I’m glad that everything has worked out. Our life may be mediocre in some aspects, but I love him nonetheless.

  Maybe our differences are what keeps us together.

  We moved around quite a bit when the twins were little. Being young without stable income and two little girls to take care of was very financially crushing. After several moves, we landed here in Blue Brook, where all the neighbors are generous, extremely caring and helpful but they couldn’t be nosier if they tried. Too much information is passed around during gatherings, or whatever it may be where more than three people are together. Some days I’m thankful they always seem to know what’s going on; other days, not so much. There are times that I feel I know more about their lives than I do about my own. Each person is pretending to be so in love, acting to be something so much more than what they really are on the inside.

  For example: most of the husbands around this tiny neighborhood have all had an affair at one point, including my husband. Yes, my husband. The wives are normally oblivious to it while they sit back and masturbate to the thought of the young grocery store clerk bagging more than their food or the mail men, craving they stuff their mailbox with his package, if you get my drift.

  Hell, a few years ago, there was a couple having weekly orgies two doors down. Yes, the couple. That made me giggle when I found out too.

  Growing irritated by all the commercials and random thoughts jumping around in my brain, I decide I should check on dinner. Walking into the kitchen, the savory scent of beef, caramelizing onions, and fresh garlic tickles my nose. Roast is probably my second favorite meal.

  I will never get tired of this smell, I think as I reach for the plates. I set my glass on the counter next to the silverware and napkins, calling out for the girls, telling them dinner is almost ready. Waiting the last few minutes for the oven timer to sound, I butter a few warm rolls and set them on the table.

  “Girls! Come eat,” I yell when I don’t hear footsteps ascending the stairs. A few minutes late, the twins finally come walking into the dining room.

  “Hey Mom. Where's Dad?” Baylee asks, grabbing a plate.

  “If you were listening when we got home, Mom said that he would be here later.” Breann snaps.

  “What's with the tone? Are you okay?” I ask. “There's no need to be rude to your sister.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, just tired. I have more shifts this week and tons of things to do.”

  “I can understand that. You are a lot like me, I took on too much too. If you need a break, don't accept the shifts.” I add in, trying to help out as best I can without stepping on the toes of my moody teen.

  “She wants the extra money, Mom.” Baylee sighs, rolling her eyes.

  “For?” I question them both, unsure of why she would need extra money when she knows she could just come to us if she were short for something.

  “I'm hoping to save enough by the end of summer to buy a car.” Breann replies proudly.

  “Well then, save away. I won't stop you. You've got plenty of time.” I smile and kiss her head as she sits down at the table. “Dad will be home later tonight. The District Manager needed a ride back to the airport and he elected your dad to do it, so it’s just us tonight.”

  “Glad I’ll be in bed. Not going to hear about that bitch fest when he gets home.” Baylee laughs, reaching for another roll.

  “Stop it, he just hates the traffic. Not the employees,” I playfully swat at her hand as she clutches the round bread.

  Looking at these two girls makes my heart flutter with excitement. I could not be prouder of who they are becoming. I watch them graciously as they eat, slowly taking bites of my own. There was a time I thought I didn't want children; now, I wouldn't know what to do without them. I'm still in awe over them almost eighteen years later. They are so alike yet so different. Baylee takes extra vegetables and potatoes, meticulously eating them first. Whereas Breann eats her rolls and roast first. One of the many things that sets them apart.

  “Mom, I almost forget. While I’m at work, would it be okay for Delilah to use the computer and printer here?” Breann questions.

  “I don't mind. She doesn’t have a computer?”

  “She did. Her cousin did something to it and now it just goes into safe mode every time she tries to turn it on. They are going this weekend to buy another one. Everyone's just busy with meets and school tours.” The girls explain together. Delilah has been Breann’s best friend from the very first day they met. Like my daughters, she has a really good head on her shoulders. She has pushed herself to graduate early like them and has started making plans for the years to come. I am so proud of the friends my children have chosen.

  “Not a problem. Baylee, will you be here to let her in?”

  “Actually, I have to stay after school. Not sure which days though. I’ll let you know.”

  “More activities or volunteering ag
ain?” I ask, taking a sip from my glass of wine.

  “Just volunteer stuff. Moving things around and the hall is expanding next year.”

  “Looks good on her application, too. All the extra work she puts in.” Breann nudges her sister, smiling. They always push and encourage each other to do better.

  My stomach feels like it's going to explode it's so stuffed. I don't know how these girls devour so much food putting more than one plate in theirs. They are bottomless pits, it seems.

  “I’ve already made your fathers plate and I’m beyond full. Either of you want more before I put it away?” I ask, getting to my feet and grabbing my plate.

  “No, thank you. It was great, though.” They both respond, taking the last few bites from their plate.

  Dinner as usual was much needed sit-down time. I feel their lives are going to fast now that schools ending. They work and volunteer, which takes up so much of their free time. Sitting down for a real meal together may start to slow down. Come to think of it, dinner time is the only time we really actually get to sit down and enjoy each other’s company.

  “Please load the dishwasher when you’re done. I'm going to shower before you two do. I actually want hot water this evening. Early bed tonight, we all have long days tomorrow.” I kiss them on their heads before I leave the kitchen. I can never give them too many as they are constant small reminders of my love for them.

  ***

  Nathaniel’s headlights shine out front as he pulls into the driveway. I can hear his keys turning the lock as he comes through the front door, closing and locking it behind him. It makes me happy that he finally gives into my obsessive need to lock the door. I used to stay up until he got home, just to make sure the door was locked before finally closing my eyes for the day.