I was beginning to hate birthdays. The number on the digital clock changed. 12:00 am. Christ, I’m thirty. When did that happen? Thirty and single. I’d rather have someone punch me in the mouth than celebrate this day.

I wasn’t looking to get married to the next guy that came along, but the whole biological clock thing was sure beginning to set in. A sudden urge to call Ben captured me, but it dissolved quickly. I hadn’t heard much from him the last few months, but he always visited or called me on my birthday. He wouldn’t forget.

But he did. The day passed over me in slow motion, waiting to hear from him. Nothing.

The morning after the fateful day at work, I was wishing I had not drowned myself in tequila with the girls the night before when I felt a buzzing from beneath my desk. I was already late for a staff meeting, but my curiosity got the best of me. Scrambling through my purse whilst frantically sifting through papers I thought for a moment it might be Ben. I’m sure he’s just busy, with all his busy lawyer business and that’s why he forgot it was my birthday. Just busy. I wonder how many more times I use the word busy. Finally I found the vibrating demon and looked down at the familiar number on the screen in disappointment. Bracing myself for the inevitable onslaught of useless chitchat I flipped it open.

“What Mom? I have a meeting and I’m really busy.”

“Abby, I have something important-”

“If you’re asking me to come to Ikea with you again, it’s a no.”

“Abby, list-”

“Mom, I’m actually busy, it’s not even a lie this time. Go feng shui something and call me back later.”

“Abby, Ben’s father had a heart attack yesterday. Sweetie, he died this morning at around seven. I’m so sorry that I have to tell you this way.”

Papers, phone, all dropped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 1993

Harry: You realize of course that we could never be friends.

Sally: Why not?

Harry: What I’m saying is – and this is not a come on in any way, shape or form – is that men and women can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.

Lying on my living room couch I immediately regretted consenting to watch the archetypal friends-to-lovers chick flick with my mother. I was home on winter break from my junior year of college, and had somehow avoided her nagging questions about my platonic relationship with Ben for two whole weeks. The words were barely out of the characters’ mouths when I heard her shifting on the chaise lounge across the room.

“So,” her prying voice came rising out of the dark, “Speaking of friends – how is my Ben?” Her Ben. She kills me.

“I wouldn’t know. Last time we talked he told me he’s working at a mountain in Vermont for break.”

“I see. So – when are you two going to get together?” she asked as if it were a completely appropriate question.

“Oh good God.” Never.

“Why is that such a strange question? You’ve been joined at the hip since elementary school, and you two are perfect for each other. Not to mention, he’s such a mensch.”

“Hey Rhoda, we’re not Jewish, stop saying mensch. And I have a boyfriend.” I’d been dating a tall pre-med student with perfect features for an entire semester, but this did not faze my mother.

“So what if we’re not Jewish? He is, and he’s not going to stay single much longer, you know,” she warned in her motherly “I-told-you-so” voice.

I sighed in exasperation, “I’ve never liked this movie. I don’t know why I’m even watching it.”

“I love this movie,” my mother said from her cocoon of pillows.

“I know. You love all these movies. Remember when you made me go see Sleepless in Seattle with you. Twice?”

“I just lovvved that. Those two are great together. I hope they do another movie,” she cooed.

“Yeah. I’m waiting on pins and needles myself.” She momentarily ignored my sarcasm and asked seriously,

“How can you not love these movies?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed “I must just be missing the Nora Ephron chromosome that you seem to have.”

“I’m glad I’ve raised such a sweet girl,” she returned exaggeratedly from across the room.

“I’m glad I’ve inherited your sardonic wit. Goodnight,” I said curtly and went up to bed. My mother and I have always been like this. Very close, very combative, very snarky. The truth is, if cynicism were toxic you’d need a gas mask to survive with my family.

~~~~~~~~~

In order to understand my family, one must look to my parents. They met at UC Berkeley in 1967, where my mother was an undergrad and my father was a teaching assistant. Yes, Berkeley. In the sixties. It’s a wonder my name isn’t Starshine or Rain. I’ve come to accept that the beginnings of my family were forged from a lot of sit-ins, love-ins, be-ins, and even more marijuana. Both of them hailed from the Boston area, but somehow ended up at the epicenter of Vietnam era counterculture and student rebellion. After my mother graduated, they married and moved to New York where Jim studied Law at Columbia and Linda worked with inner city kids. It was all very Love Story — without the rich parents or tearjerker ending. I came along a soon after while my father was working at a firm in the city and my mother was doing social work. Then finally in 1979 my dad was offered a position teaching at Boston College, and my family moved back to Massachusetts that summer.

My mother was at that point about thirty months pregnant with my younger brother Jack, and my parents’ whole world revolved around the new house and the new baby’s arrival. So I was left without playmates at home, and with school out of session there were few opportunities to meet new friends. One day while playing with some chalk on our driveway a shadow came over me.

“Hi,” his soft voice caused me to look up, “What are you doing?” The boy seemed tall to me – tall and gangly. There was a bandage on each of his bony knees and the long shoelaces on his high tops were coming untied. His brown hair was floppy and pieces were falling over his lonely, blue eyes. They looked like little swimming pools.

“Writing my name, do you want some chalk too?” I squeaked.

“Sure. Your name is A-big?” he gawked, staring down at me.

“I’m not done,” I said stubbornly. “It’s Abigail, but my mummy only calls me that when I get mud inside the house or when she trips on my toys.”

“So, what does she call you?”

“Abby. What’s your name?” I asked, squinting into the sunlight.

“Ben.”

He was two years older than me and lived on the street running parallel to ours. Ben was an only child and had made a habit of exploring the neighborhood on boring summer days. We became fast friends, practically living in each other’s houses. His father, Dave, was like a big kid, always making us laugh or taking us to the zoo. Or to the movies. Or bowling. Or into the city. They were constantly smiling even though their big Victorian house seemed a bit sad. Ben’s mother had died of ovarian cancer the year before we moved in, and he rarely talked about her. However he did develop a close relationship with my mother, who still, in my opinion, loves him more than her own children.

I know I had other friends as a child, but I can’t seem to recall doing many things with them. What I do remember the most are memories with Ben: our secret handshakes, our adventures, our forts. And of course, one of the first movies his dad brought us to see – The Empire Strikes Back. By the time we reached the car in the parking lot it was settled. Ben was Han and I was Leia, without the stilted acting or kissing.

Secret handshakes soon developed into serious secrets and tent sleepovers in the back yard into camping trips with our friends on high school vacations. He had girlfriends and I had boyfriends, but I suspected my relationships were never as serious as his. The few boyfriends I had before Ben left for college had only kissed me. Nothing else. Throughout it all Ben and I were always friends. Just friends. However, it was hard to see him that way as we got older and he kept growing taller and more handsome. At his going away party the summer before he left for college our parents took a picture of the two of us together. Ben had his arm around me and while I stood there like an awkward child. When he went away I would often look at the picture and stare at him. His strong jaw. His blue eyes. His nose with its tiny bump (a touch football game in junior high somehow got out of control). His dimples. His tan skin. His muscular arms and lean torso. By the time of the picture I had stopped growing once I hit 5’9, but he still towered over me, and his frame overpowered mine.

The last night he was in town before he left for college I got a surprise knock on my window. I bolted upright in bed at the sound of the clinking glass and looked out to see him on the roof next to my room. Rubbing my eyes I looked over at the glowing neon numbers on my bedside alarm clock and shook my head.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked groggily as I opened my window.

“You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye,” he said smiling.

“It’s 2:30 in the morning.” I yawned, rubbing my eyes.

“Yeah, I haven’t gone home yet. Come on, let’s go swimming.”

“Are you high?” I asked.

“Not really. It doesn’t matter, let’s go use the Wilson’s pool,” he said pulling my arm.

“They’re on vacation though,” I said wearily.

“Yes, exactly. Get your bathing suit,” he said seriously. It didn’t take much convincing.

“Alright, I’ll change. Turn around,” I said. He sighed and spun around, holding onto the windowsill for support. I stripped off the t-shirt and panties I was wearing and slipped on my favorite bikini. I realized putting it on that it would soon have to be retired, as the stretchy blue fabric was almost not enough to fit my still growing breasts. I pushed them together while Ben was turned, and slipped some shorts and a tank top on.

“Okay,” I breathed, moving closer to the window. He took my hand and I climbed out onto the roof and we deftly navigated the slanted structure, hopping down onto the garage, and then making a big leap to the ground.

“I’m surprised you never broke your neck doing this all these years,” I panted to Ben as we made it safely down. He laughed and took my hand as we ran through neighbors’ yards and made it to the empty pool. It was eerily still in the middle of the night. Ben quickly stripped off his clothes, leaving his boxers and dived in. I soon followed, and we both tried to contain our cries of surprise at how cold the water was.

“Jesus,” I whispered harshly, “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”

“Because you’re a danger junkie,” he said splashing me.

“Yes, that must be it,” I laughed, climbing on top of him in the water, “You’re so dangerous and all.” I said, but soon noticed he was gone. I spun on the smooth tile of the pool floor looking for him.

Before I knew what was happening he had my legs locked around his shoulders and he was pushing me up into the cool night air.

“Ben,” I cried. “Put me down!”

“You want to go back down?” he laughed.

“Yes!”

“Alright, fine with me,” he said, half throwing me into the deep end of the pool, falling in along with me in the process. Through a cloud of dark bubbles I could see him smiling underwater. Soon I rocketed up to the surface from all the pressure and swam to where he was resting against the edge of the pool. He dragged me closer to him and I clung to his side, our legs tangling in a struggle to tread the water, and his arm draped itself around my waist.

We were breathing hard in the dark. Only the faint lights on the filter of the pool illuminating the yard, and the undulating water reflected the light off the surface in waves. I rested there, my breathing calming down, clinging to his hard, wet body. His lips quivered in uncertainty as I watched an unfamiliar look pass over his face, his expressive blue eyes sparkling. For a moment I was certain he was going to kiss me.

But it passed.

I filled the growing awkward silence with laughter, and pulled away from him, climbing out of the pool and running across the pavement,

“Come on,” I cried in a whisper, “I’m cold!”

We creeped on tip toes back into Ben’s house, hoping not to wake his father. Much to our surprise Dave was sitting there in the living room, waiting for us as Ben closed the patio screen.

“Jesus,” Ben yelled turning to face him in surprise.

“Hey there son, nice to see you too. 3:45? Wow, you’re really calling it quits early tonight. Nothing to do?” his father asked facetiously.

“Hi Mr. Ross,” I squeaked.

“Hello Abigail. I thought I saw some gorgeous creature lurking around with my miscreant of a child out there. Did it start raining?” he asked looking at us.

“No, we just swam in the Wilson’s abandoned pool, don’t worry though we were careful,” Ben said in irritated voice.

“Oh, well, that’s fine. As long as you were responsible about trespassing,” he grinned, adding, “Alright, well I’m going to catch some sleep, before that ten hour drive tomorrow. Remember that Ben?” he asked with another smirk.

“Yeah, I recall something along those lines,” Ben yawned. “I guess I’ll just sleep in the car.”

“Good idea. I wouldn’t want you to help with the driving at all,” Dave laughed. He got up and came over to us, messing up Ben’s wet hair with his hands.

“I love you son, see you in the morning,” he said patting him on the back.

He turned to me and bowed. “Abby, it’s always a pleasure, my dear. Just yell if he gets fresh,” he said wryly before heading upstairs.

“This is so unfair,” Ben groaned a while later as we sat facing each other on his couch. “How did you get QUEAZY on the first turn?” He shook his head looking at the Scrabble board.

“Luck of the draw baby,” I smiled. “A triple word score too,” I added triumphantly.

“Can we stop this? I’m sure there’s some sort of Scrabble slaughter rule anyway,” he sighed.

“I’m only beating you by three hundred points,” I laughed. “It’s okay though, I’m getting tired. I should probably head back before Linda and Jim discover my empty room. What a scandal that would be.”

“No,” he said quickly, grabbing my arm. “Stay for a while.”

“Okay,” I said soothingly, suddenly seeing the look of panic in his eyes.

We lay there watching late night infomercials on his couch. The rest of the world still. Everything asleep around us. Frozen.

“I’m going to miss you, kid,” he whispered next to my ear, as he curled up behind me.

“I know,” I said, trying not to let him hear the shaking in my voice. We drifted off to sleep when the dim sky was beginning to lighten with hints of morning.

Falling. Fading and falling through dreamy landscapes that came in and out of focus. Suddenly I was back in the dark pool with Ben. Except this time it was not PG. More like NC-17.

He had me against the side of the pool, my arms pinned above me against the lining by his hands. My real body had never had sex before, but REM cycle Ben was sure fucking dream-Abby for all he was worth. Thrusting up and into my body underwater and panting in the cold night air. I smiled at him as he leaned back, holding me on his cock, and we bounced in the water, my legs tied around him. He had undone my bikini top and was kissing my breasts and kneading them almost roughly as he pummeled me. Our breathing ragged and coming in short panting moans.

Suddenly I heard birds. Loud birds. Shaking my head I looked around Ben’s living room, finally realizing where I was. Realizing it was a dream.

My body felt like it was aflame. Ben was snoring lightly but his arm was locked around my waist, holding me tight to him. I quickly realized with embarrassment that I had to have been moving rather erratically against him in our sleep, feeling his hard cock pressed against my ass. With deft maneuvering, I untangled myself from his arm, only taking a few seconds to admire his sleeping form. Trying to ignore his massive erection. But not really succeeding.

I reluctantly escaped back to my own house without a true goodbye. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

The first time I touched myself while thinking about him I was ashamed, but I did it again. And again and again. Late at night in my stuffy room, I would only have to conjure up a brief image of him or remember a simple touch and my fingers would find their way to my panties. At first I would just touch through the damp cotton, finding my clit through the cloth and rubbing until my whole body would burst into such a spell of shaking that I’d have to bite my lip to keep my choking gasps quiet. However, after many nights my fingers soon found their way beneath the cotton, and I would run my fingers over the wet folds of flesh. Soon, I would spread myself and fit my wet finger into my tight cunt. It hurt at first, but eventually I’d be smothering my mouth under a pillow and bucking my hips up against my hand.

Soon my boyfriend and I started getting serious, and for a while I was able to put my shameful thoughts of Ben behind me. I saw Ben at his breaks, but it was different. We were no longer as close as we had been. Now during the summers he had internships and backpacking trips and girlfriends and jobs. When I lost my virginity the summer after Ben left, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. I knew I was supposed to feel adult and like a woman, but a part of me wished that things had all gone differently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1991

“So you’ve really never played beer pong before?” he asked not so incredulously.

“Nope, whavsn’t I purdy good though?” Hiccup. Hiccup.

“You were terrible, and it shows. But all beginners are pretty bad, and it probably didn’t help that we played four rounds.”

“You my faariend were a verrry, verrrry good teammate,” I said collapsing onto his bed in giggles. Hiccup hiccup. Even though Ben had been a gentleman and drank many of my cups for me, I was still drunk off my ass.

“And you, my young novice, couldn’t have been a better student in the study of drinking games,” he said while pushing a cup of water at my face, “Why don’t you have some of this. It might make the hiccups go away.” I took a big sip and held my breath. I looked around his dorm room. There were posters of girls and stacks of CDs, but mostly on his roommate’s side. Little in the room reflected the man standing mere inches away from me.

He pushed my hair out of my eyes and fingered one of the long, brown tresses. Sitting below him I suddenly forgot that I was there for purely educational reasons. My dad was urging me to look at colleges outside the bubble of Boston, and at his insistence I had asked Ben if I could come spend a weekend at the prestigious school he attended a few hundred miles away. My parents were neither na•ve nor stupid, but they trusted Ben and knew nothing funny would happen in his custody. Sadly so did I. His roommate evidently spent most weekends at his girlfriend’s and Ben would be sleeping in their adjoining common room. The whole day had been so boring, what with going on campus tours and sitting in on a couple of Ben’s classes that nothing “funny” had even crossed my mind. Until that moment. Whether it was the alcohol, or my raging hormones, or the built up sexual tension, I suddenly wanted to reach out and touch him.

I didn’t. Instead he sat next to me on the bunk and took the cup.

“All gone?”

“Yup.”

“Do you feel okay?” he asked, touching my hair again.

“Yup.”

“Got anything else to say?” he grinned.

“Yup. I forgot to pack pajamas.”

“Oh…okay. Uh, do you want a t-shirt or something?”

“Yup.” I said smiling. He got up and began sifting through the contents of his drawers.

“Hmm, what do I have?” he asked to no one in particular. “Alright, well there’s a Pearl Jam shirt, Celtics, Georgetown Lacrosse, BC or –”

I cut him off before he could drone on any longer, “Give me the Pearl Jam one, because I was at that concert with you.”

He let out a quick chuckle. One of those perturbing bursts-of-air type laughs that lead you to think someone is laughing at you rather than with you. “I remember that night. That was the first time I actually got you high.”

“Yeah it only took about four tries,” I said smiling hazily.

“Geeze, if only your parents knew how much I’ve corrupted you over the years.”

“I’m sure you’ve corrupted some girls a bit more,” I said looking up at him playfully. He laughed nervously and shifted from side to side.

“Well, here’s the shirt. I’m going to go get settled in the other room. If you need anything just yell. Goodnight.” He hurriedly grabbed a sleeping bag and headed into the connecting room.

Damnit. How the hell do I get him back in here?

I wiggled out of my jeans, t-shirt, bra, and socks and pulled Ben’s t-shirt over me. Why does it smell so good? I pulled at the shirt nervously. I felt half sexy and half self-conscious with so much of my long legs showing below the cotton hem. I bent down and checked for any stubble. All good. Breathe. Just ask him for something. What though? Er…toothpaste! Yes, that’s it.

“Ben?” I called out quietly.

“Yeah?” I heard his deep voice across the wall.

“Uh, can I borrow some toothpaste?”

“Sure, I think there’s a tube on my dresser,” he yelled back softly. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Come over here.

I was about to give up my quest, until I saw it. While looking for the toothpaste on his dresser, I saw the picture of the two of us at his party. It rested next to the shot glass I’d bought for him in Germany and the cologne I’d given to him on his last birthday. He keeps a copy of the picture. My heart rose into my throat.

“Ben?” I asked longingly.

“Uh huh?”

“Can you come in here for a second?” I heard the rustling of his sleeping bag and his feet padding across the floor. He walked into the room in just boxers and I choked on my own tongue for a few seconds. His sleepy eyes began sweeping over my body. They soon stopped at my naked legs and I tried my best to keep my lips from curving upwards.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was rough.

“Nothing, I’m just not tired. I never get to see you and I wanted to talk more,” I said innocently, entreating him to sit down with my eyes. The bed let out a tiny creak under the weight of his body. Looking at me he asked,

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“I can’t remember,” I whispered, laughing, still slightly buzzed. We stared at each other.

I tilted my face closer to his, and putting my hand on his chest, I kissed him – just pressing my lips to his with the softest pressure. I pulled away slowly and looked for a reaction. Neither of us spoke, but the look in his eyes validated the desire I’d had for years now. He kissed me this time. He pulled me into his lap, and my knees were soon straddling his hard thighs. Our chests pressed against each other, my nipples growing stiff under my shirt with the warm friction. I could feel his growing erection and wiggled my hips against him.

We deepened the kiss and my hands went to the back of his neck and up into his soft, sexy hair, while his hands held my ass and pulled me further into his lap. I could feel his hardness against my panties, and I moved up a bit, causing the damp material covering my pussy to rub against his boxer-clad cock. He moaned into my mouth, and pushed his hips up against mine. We sat there, fucking through our clothes for another few moments. I could feel him so hard between my legs. My pussy ached to feel his cock inside of me, and my panties were getting so wet that the material was slipping between my folds.

We were going to have sex; there was no avoiding it. I continued rubbing my clit against his hardon, and could feel my orgasm building.

“Oh god,” I whimpered softly into his neck, allowing my fingers to leave his hair for the bottom of my shirt. I had lifted the black cotton to just below my breasts when Ben grabbed my wrists, pulling away from me panting.

He looked at my broken expression and I sensed he realized how hurt I was.

“Abby, I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s not you,” he blurted out quickly, “You’re fucking gorgeous, and believe me I really was enjoying that, I’m sure you can tell I was, but -” He stumbled for words, “But we can’t do this. Your parents trust me and we’ve been drinking… I – I can’t emphasize enough how much I’d like to keep touching you right now, but we can’t. We’d be sorry about it later.”

I didn’t want to even look at him. I wanted to punch him in the mouth I was so angry, and frustrated, and dejected. Instead I smiled, trying to hold back any tears, and said,

“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one that practically attacked you. I think you’re right about the drinking. I don’t know what came over me.” An unreadable look washed over his face and he studied me for a few more moments. Finally he leaned over, kissing my cheek and whispered,

“Don’t worry about it. Goodnight, Abby.”

“Goodnight, Ben.” Once again he disappeared into the other room, and I was left to rub myself frantically in desperation, biting my lip when my orgasm finally ripped through my body. The next day we played the night off as a mistaken drunken encounter. In fact, for the next decade we played the night off as a mistaken drunken encounter, and quickly settled back into a nonphysical equilibrium.

~~~~~~~~~~~

1997

“All right, we’re going to go around the table and have everyone say what they’re thankful for this year,” my mother said cheerfully, too cheerful for her own good.

It was one of the worst Thanksgivings I had experienced to date. I was behind on my work for grad school, dealing with moronic people at work every moment I wasn’t in class, and to top it off Ben had brought a date. A really pretty date. She was skinny, blonde, and her huge boobs were undoubtedly fake. Also her favorite adjective seemed to be “super.” Ben had evidently described me as “super sweet” and my family was just “super nice.” Gag me. When it was her turn to give thanks she flipped her big hair over a shoulder and cooed,

“I’m just super thankful that me and Ben met and stuff. You guys are soooo sweet, and I’m sooooo happy I got to see Boston, especially ‘cos this is like where the first Thanksgiving was. That’s so ironical. I’m just thankful to meet all of you.” I saw Jack laughing into his hand at the opposite end of the table.

“Well, we’re happy to have you here,” my mother said with a voice she often used with small children. I was up.

“This year I’m thankful that we could all be together. Whether we’re related by blood or by ties of friendship I love this family and I couldn’t think of any place I’d rather be right now.” My mother gave me a smile of approval. Something I rarely saw from her lately. The rest of the people sitting at the table smiled and nodded as well. “And -,” I concluded, “I’m thankful that I’m not this poor turkey. Especially after I witnessed my mother sodomize it with bread stuffing forty five minutes ago.”

“Abigail!”

Later as the rest of the group sipped on coffee and broke open the pies, I drifted outside alone. I was content to wallow in self-pity in the cold. Suddenly the sliding of the backdoor interrupted my solemn reverie, and I didn’t have to turn around to guess who it was.

“So Casanova, satisfy my curiosity. Are those things real?” Ben laughed and covered his face with his hands. If only her brain were the same size.

“You’re terrible, Abby.”

“Hey, you don’t have to answer, but they certainly don’t look real.”

“Well, I’ll have you know they are real and they’re spectacular.” Now it was my turn to laugh.

“Okay, Terri Hatcher.” He smiled at me, and his gazed moved downward. I felt awkward standing there as his eyes stayed focused on my breasts trying to peak over the low-cut neckline of my sweater thanks to my favorite push up bra.

“Believe me, Abby, you have nothing to be jealous about,” my neck and chest were flushed red before his last words were off his tongue.

I laughed nervously, “Who said I was jealous?”

“No one,” he answered, sliding up next to me.

“I’m not jealous. I’m jus-,” He raised an eyebrow as I stuttered on my next words.

“Cold.” I quickly recovered before saying something stupid in my tryptophan induced state. He wrapped his arms around me and rubbed up my sides with his strong hands,

“You should have worn a coat,” he said softly into my ear.

“I know. Silly me,” I breathed, grinding my backside against him. Feeling all of him. I could just make out his soft groan in the still crispness of the November night. Just as soon as our dangerous little dance had started I stepped away smiling.

“Tease,” he scoffed.

“Taken,” I said pointing to him.

He smiled and went back inside, leaving me shivering. Not from the cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

1999

“Abby?”

I looked up from my plate of pad thai and the coworker sitting across from me to see him standing just a few feet away.

“Ben!”

“I was just about to leave you a voicemail saying that I’m in town until tomorrow,” he said smiling. I noticed a few other guys sitting a few feet away who appeared to be his colleagues. I looked at the woman’s pinched face sitting across from me and frowned inwardly. We weren’t very good friends, in fact I had almost tried to get out of her invitation to lunch, but my desire for thai food outweighed the annoying company. I could tell by the look on her face that she was very impressed with Ben.

“Ben this is my friend Janice, we work together. Janice, this is Ben, we’ve known each other since we were practically zygotes,” I said somewhat unenthused.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Janice. Actually Abby may be exaggerating just a bit. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t that popular at the pre-embryonic stage,” he said smiling.

Janice laughed her cringe inducing hyena laugh, and I gave Ben a look as she stared up at him dreamily.

“The pleasure’s all mine. Too bad you’re only in town for so short a time.”

“I know I do miss Boston. Next time I’m in town we should all go for some drinks, but it was really nice to meet you Janice. Ab, I’ll call you when I get out tonight,” he said flashing that familiar smile at me.

“I’ll be sure to screen then.”

“Wow, I’ve forgotten just how funny you are during these months apart,” he said mockingly.

“I’ll talk to you later loser. I need to finish eating,” I sighed, smiling. He laughed and walked back to the front of the restaurant and a few moments later I saw him leaving with the other people he was with.

“He’s gorgeous, Abby. Were you two ever a thing?” Janice asked immediately. I laughed,

“No, oh believe me, no.”

“Jesus, why not? He’s absolutely gorgeous. Too bad he doesn’t live in Boston. I would definitely ask for his number.” I was a little thrown off by her response. Something inside of me was rising, but I couldn’t quite identify what it was. Suddenly words were falling out of my mouth.

“Well, I don’t think Miguel would appreciate that,” I said.

“Who’s Miguel?”

“Ben’s partner. They’ve been together for about five years now. Miguel’s even better looking than Ben, but you know what they say. All the best looking ones are either taken or gay.” Where the hell did that come from?

“Oh,” she said disappointingly. “He didn’t seem gay to me.”

“Believe me, by the fourth grade he was learning how to quilt from my mom and critiquing my outfits on a daily basis.” She laughed and smiled uncomfortably. What is wrong with me?

A few hours later I heard my then top-of-the-line coupe de ville sized cell phone ringing.

“Hello?” I said after running through my apartment to find it.

“So I was just looking at the movies that are out. How do you feel about You’ve Got Mail?”

I could feel his mocking smile through the phone.

“I’d rather see Patch Adams. And you know how I feel about Robin Williams.” I said sternly.

“It’s almost frightening how much you dislike that man,” he said laughing.

“It’s almost frightening that I’m so alone in my opinion.”

“Alright, then how about this. I’ll come get you; we’ll walk around for a while, get bored, come back to my hotel and use up my company account on room servi-.”

“I’m ready.”

“Alright, see you in fifteen.” he said.

“Oh and by the way, Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“I told Janice about Miguel.” I hung up before I could hear his puzzled response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jess: Uh, it’s a monkey. It’s a monkey, monkey see monkey do! It’s… an ape, going ape!

Woman: It’s a baby!

“You always said you hated this movie. Why are we watching it?” Ben asked me later in his hotel room. After perusing the channels, all the late night movies seemed a bit dodgy, so I’d settled on one TBS staple that my mother would approve of.

“Shhh, you. This is my favorite scene,” I said in a hushed voice.

Harry: Hmm a big mouth… Mick Jagger as a baby!

Jess: Baby ape, baby ape!

I saw Ben playing with his cell phone in the corner.

“New voicemail?” he asked to no one in particular. “I don’t even remember missing a call,” he said hitting the keys to get to the message.

Harry: Melancholy baby’s mouth!

Jess: Baba…baby fish mouth, baby fish mouth!

“Strange,” I said, feigning interest. I saw him smiling as he listened to the message and closed the phone after a few moments. Must be the girlfriend. Unlike the blonde from silicone valley I’d met before, his current girlfriend was some brainy mad scientist who was still built like a Playboy centerfold. She’d attended our Christmas Party the month before and dazzled everyone with her wit and charm. And body. Bitch.

Sally: Baby talk!

Jess: Baby talk? What’s that? That’s not a saying.

“Oh, but baby fish mouth is sweeping the nation,” I said in synch with Billy Crystal’s character.

“If only your mother could see this,’ Ben said laughing at me.

“Shhhhh! Don’t tell her I actually like this movie. She already makes me watch it with her enough,” I said hitting him with a pillow.

“Okay, okay, it’ll be our secret,” he whispered.

“Was that Vanessa?” I asked referencing the smile-producing voicemail.

“Yup,” he answered, not turning his head from the screen.

“How is she?” I asked flatly.

“She’s good.” He answered as I hiccupped.

“Is she still separating cells and all that hiccup sh – shit?” I asked growing dizzy.

He laughed and turned to me, “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” My lips parted for a second and a giant hiccup erupted. I quickly covered my mouth with my hands, before bursting into laughter and more diaphragmatic spasms.

“Abby?”

“Ben?” I mimicked, hiccupping.

“You’re adorable,” he said sweetly. I smiled hazily, and briefly contemplated the possibilities of another regrettable encounter with equally adorable Ben, but then suddenly my eyelids were too heavy and the whole room got fuzzy.

I awoke the next morning, in the middle of Ben’s bed, under the covers but still dressed in the clothes from the night before. I looked around expecting to see him, but the room appeared empty.

Next to me on the bed I found a small note.

Dear Baby Fish Mouth,

I thought about waking you, but you looked so peaceful (actually you were drooling a little bit, but it was cute drool don’t worry) and I have a bunch of stuff to get done before my flight. Stay as long as you like (well actually until 11) and bill any breakfast you may want to order to my card. I had a lot of fun last night, even though “Surrey with the Fringe on Top” is going to be stuck in my head all day. I’ll talk to you soon.

Love,

Ben

~~~~~~~~~

2001

I could hear the phone ringing inside my apartment as I struggled to get the key in the door. I was finally beginning to feel settled. At 27 I had a job I loved at a monthly magazine, and other things were beginning to fall into place. Still panting from my run I picked up the cordless,

“Hello?”

“Hello beautiful.” Hearing his voice still sent chills down my arms.

“Oh…it’s you.”

“Cute. You sound a little out of breath, am I interrupting anything?” He asked cautiously. I laughed into the receiver.

“No, not at all. I just got back from jogging, that’s all. I haven’t been out running in so long; my face has never gotten this red or disgustingly sweaty from that route.”

“How long is it?” He asked interested.

“Five miles,” I said quickly. Minus three, that is.

“Nice, nice. I’ve been running five every morning around the National Mall, but I’ve been so busy lately that I’ve been slacking.” This all from a man who has less body fat than the Olsen twins.

“Fatass,” I coughed. “So my friend, what are you up to?” I suspected he was calling because he had been dumped by his girlfriend of two years. The brilliant bombshell one. I had figured Ben was off the market for good until I got a sad 2 a.m. phone call a few weeks before.

“Not much. Well actually, I lied. I’ve got a new job in another city.” He said coolly.

“Really?” my voice raised an octave higher, “Where’re you moving to?”

“I’m actually going to be working at a firm back in Boston.”

“NO!” I squealed.

“Yes!” He laughed back.

“Ben, I’m so happy for you. This is such great news. Which firm?” I said, knowing he could hear my wide smile. He nonchalantly blurted out the long-winded name of the law firm and my jaw dropped. Not because it sounded more like a snack food than a law firm (which it did) but because I’d actually heard of it before.

“Jesus, Ben. Are you serious? They’re like hardcore. Are you really that good?” I asked, honestly shocked.

“Thanks? I guess. Yeah, I got another pretty good offer in New York, but I miss Boston too much. My dad is all alone too, and I just want to be able to spend more time with him. Even though it will probably end up balancing out with the workload I’m going to have.” He sighed and continued on,

“And considering all this stuff with Vanessa I just think a change of scenery would be nice. Every place I go to now reminds me of her.” Uh huh. Yup. Shoot me.

“Speaking of your dad,” I said changing the subject from the witch – I mean lovely, Mensa member, “I had dinner with him and my parents the other night. I always feel like I’m talking to Larry David when I’m around him. Why the hell aren’t you that funny?”

“Dinner huh?” he asked ignoring me, “Lucky guy. I’d give a lot to have a dinner date with you lately,” Yes, I would love hearing you talk about your perfect ex-girlfriend over some food.

“Well it seems you won’t have to wait long for one.”

“It seems that way. Hey, listen. I’m coming up next week to go apartment hunting, and I know this is really last minute, but do you think I could crash with you on the weekend?” I would have wondered why he wasn’t just getting a hotel room, but I was more concerned about breaching another subject.

“Uh well, I sort of moved, I um- ”

“Really? You’re not living in the People’s Republic of Cambridge anymore?” he asked lightly.

“No. Well, I um, I’m kind of living with someone right now.” Silence. “You could definitely come crash on the couch if you wanted thou-.”

“Since when have you been seeing someone?” He interrupted.

“Since about three months ago. I was going to tell you about it a few weeks ago, but I just didn’t know if it would’ve made you upset, when you were just dealing with your breakup.”

“Why would I have been upset?” he asked coldly.

“Uh, I don’t know. I just didn’t feel like talking about myself when you needed someone.”

“Isn’t three months a little soon to be living with someone?” he asked.

“I guess it’s pretty quick, but I just have a really good feeling about all of this. I think he might be the one.” More silence.

“So who is this guy?”

“He works with my friend Michelle at Children’s.”

“He’s a doctor?”

“Yeah, I’ve told him all about you. You should definitely stay with us.”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll just stay at my dad’s house. I need to catch up with him anyway.”

“Okay, well call me when you get up here. We should get dinner or something.”

“Yeah, well I’ll probably be really busy. We’ll see. I’ve got to run though. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oka-” Click. Asshole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

2004

I stayed by him at the funeral, while he clutched my hand so hard it practically turned blue. I sobbed silently, trying not to let him see how it ripped me apart too. There were few words between us. Just looks, squeezes palm against palm, gentle touches on the shoulder. At the end of the day I hugged him and cried softly into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Ben. I loved him too. We all did, and I know he’s so proud of you.” His cheeks were wet, and his blue eyes bathed in pools of light red. He kissed my cheek and walked away. Two weeks of calls and emails went by with no response. One week of worrying later, I called him and he finally answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. I like this whole J.D Salinger recluse thing you’re going for, but what do you say you come over and watch a movie with me or something?”

“I don’t know Ab, I’m not really-”

“I’m ordering a pizza and I have tons of beer,” I said in a singsong voice.

“I’ll be over in a few.”

“Asshole. I have to lure you with food and alcohol now?”

“Nitwit, I was coming anyway.” I heard his smile and the click of the receiver.

We lay together on my couch head-to-toe as Carrie Bradshaw’s voiceover pondered another single girl’s dilemma. I knew I was supposed to be playing my platonic friend role, but I couldn’t help noticing how nicely his jeans fit him and how muscular his chest appeared beneath his vintage t-shirt. His dark floppy hair looked like his fingers had run threw it about a thousand times throughout the day. Why the hell does he get to look so effortlessly sexy? I was wearing an unglamorous ensemble of a white Hanes t-shirt and stretchy yoga pants that I had not changed out of since my class earlier that day. Real sexy, that whole not showering thing, you stupid moron. I had tried to convince myself that it was no big deal what I looked like. It was Ben after all. Just friends. Just friends. Not to mention his father just died. God, I was selfish.

“I figured when I said do you want to watch something with me you would’ve picked Goodfellas, or the Godfather, or a Quentin Tarantino movie or some shit like that. But Sex and the City?” I asked raising an eyebrow. “You’re basically a girl. Next we’ll be watching You’ve Got Mail.” I teased him.

“You have it?” he asked in mock excitement.

“Shuddup.” I snapped.

He laughed and rubbed my leg, “So her boyfriend’s that Berger guy?”

“Yea, Jack Berger. Her ex-boyfriend’s name is Big. Well, they call him Mr. Big, but we didn’t find out his real name until the last episode.”

“And what was this mysterious name?”

“John.” I replied, nudging his chest with my bare foot.

“Well,” he said grabbing it, “that’s rather anticlimactic.”

“I’ll say.” He pretended he was about bite my toe.

“Don’t!” I yelped.

“And the nymphomaniac’s boyfriend, what’s his name?” he asked smiling.

“Smith. Well, Smith Jerrod. Actually it’s Jerry Jerrod, but Samantha became his publicist and changed it, for obvious reasons.”

“Jesus, I’m going to need to take notes on all this stuff,” he said as he sat up and took a bite of his pizza. Putting it down, he looked up with a grimace,

“Why do you always get green peppers? I hate green peppers.”

“Pick them off, you baby. I need my vegetables.” He laughed and began tickling my side. I shrieked and attempted half heartedly to get him off of me.

“Stop it!” Fuck, stop touching me, I’m supposed to be consoling you with my support and normalcy. Well, attempted normalcy. I leaned back coughing with laughter, tears coming out of my eyes, “Stop!”

“Or what?” he asked with both his hands digging into my waist. I couldn’t think with his hands touching me. I couldn’t believe how juvenile this all was, and I tried to convince myself that we were in our early thirties, not back in high school.

“Or I’ll knee you in the balls.” Okay, okay, acting mature is overrated anyway.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said smugly, inching his face closer to mine. Our noses were practically touching. I could feel his breath coming in short pants. God, I want him.

“Oh, but I wou – ” suddenly his lips were on mine. What? What?! Is he drunk? No, he’s not drunk. I turned off my mind for a few seconds and kissed him back. His lips were hot, and soft, and melting into mine brutally and deliciously. I could taste a slight twinge of tomato sauce on them. Suddenly something wet was caressing my lip. I opened my mouth to his tongue and nearly thought I was going to faint. His warm hands wrapped around the hem of my shirt and I felt his fingers running lightly across the skin just above the waist of my sweatpants. It felt like his fingertips were shooting electric currents into my skin, which were heading straight between my legs. I whimpered softly into his mouth, but almost as soon as the kiss had started he pulled away. Oh shit, not this again.

“I’m so sorry, Abby. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Ben I -” I was struggling to get my words out, but he kept interrupting.

“It’s just been an awful couple of weeks. I read each one of your emails about fifteen times, and every time I saw your number I so badly wanted to talk to you. You’re the one person I’ve wanted to talk to the most. It’s just when I think about you and me and my dad I can’t handle it. That was the best time for me and him, when we were young. He always saw you like a daughter and -” his voice was shaking as he sat up, looking away for a few seconds.

“Ben I – I,” I didn’t want to stop kissing! Keep touching me, damnit! “I understand. It’s okay.”

“I just don’t want you to be freaked out,” he said, his icy blue eyes appearing desperately sad.

“I’m not freaked out. It’s not like I haven’t come on to you before, right?” He gave me a weak smile.

“I should probably get going. Thanks for everything. You really are the most wonderful woman in my life.” Then take my clothes off!

I just stared at him. He wasn’t getting up. We sat there for a few more moments not saying a word, and I wished more than anything that I could dissolve into a pool of liquid and slide under the couch. Finally I looked away, trying to hide the layers of disappointment in my face that were trying to push their way to the surface. I looked back once more and he grabbed me. One hand just above my waist the other on my cheek as he pushed me down onto the couch and assaulted my lips once again.

He was kissing me so fiercely that I knew my lips would be sore and puffy after. His fingers twisted around the hem of my shirt as mine dug into his back. Breathing hard he raised himself over me and balancing on each of his shoulders, quickly removed his t-shirt. I simply stared at his hard chest and stomach before I realized my shirt was coming off too. He whipped it over my head and it landed near his next to us on the floor. It was his turn to stare as he got a look at my white lacy bra. After a few nanoseconds we were kissing again, his warm hands trailing up my stomach. The sounds of panting and inaudible moans were beginning to reverberate through the small room. He didn’t even bother taking my bra off, instead just pushing the lacy cups up over my breasts. He kissed down my neck, nibbling and licking my skin while he played with my breast. Cupping and caressing while he gently pulled the taut nipple.

“Ben, fuck,” I sighed and throaty whimpers began escaping my mouth as my eyelids fluttered shut in growing pleasure.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, as he continued stripping my body.

His other hand moved down my ribs and over my hips, coming to rest just above my tiny panties. With two fingers he began rubbing me through the wet material. Then pushing the cotton down my thighs the pad of his fingertip soon came into contact with my throbbing clit.

“Oh yes,” I moaned while tilting my hips up against his fingers. I began biting at his neck while panting in tiny staccato whimpers. His cock was nearly bulging out of his jeans and I could feel it, hot and hard, trapped in its denim confines against my leg. I wriggled my thigh a bit against him as he started pushing a finger inside of me. Oh god this is happening. Oh his finger.

“My God, Abby,” he groaned, driving another one of his digits past my wet lips. I wanted to tell him how good he made me feel. Right then. All the time. Except I couldn’t form words any longer and my head dropped back against the arm of the sofa, my lips drawing open again.

“Please oh, oh…” I panted as he pumped his fingers in and out. His other hand moved up my skin, cupping and massaging my breast.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he moaned dreamily while teasing my nipple. I was so turned on that I almost felt nauseous, and I couldn’t keep my whole lower body from moving against him. His hand, his cock. I wanted to let him know that I was there, but all I could do was arch myself against him, my cunt holding his fingers tight inside of me as I began to cum. My body gave into waves of shaking.

“Ben. Oh yes, Ben. Fuck me. Oh God, fuck me,” my throaty moans had morphed into a scream on the last “fuck me.” His lips covered mine, his tongue brushing desperately across my lips, while he continued to pound his skilled fingers in and out of me through my orgasm. He didn’t want to stop kissing, but I began pulling at the waist of his jeans and he lifted himself over me to give me room. Sliding my palm beneath the denim I could feel how hot his skin was. I unbuttoned them clumsily, looking up at his grinning face, his strong arms holding his body up. Reaching inside of his boxers I gently released his hard cock. My mouth dried up. Ohmygod. I had imagined what it might look like for years, but no image I had ever conjured up could compare with what stood straining out before me. I lightly traced my thumb and finger over the head, it was oozing with precum and I began sliding it around. My fingers continued teasing the sensitive head and he shut his eyes for a moment.

“Abby,” he sighed and his breathing got harder as I began pumping his hot length through my fist. More than anything I wanted to flip over and swallow his cock, but Ben had other plans. He was nearly cringing with pleasure but he still stopped my hand. Settling his thighs between my spread legs he gave me an unsure look. The look of frightened sadness that flashed over his face scared me and I tried with my eyes to tell him exactly what I wanted. I pulled his face down to mine and we kissed frantically and I felt him pressing against me. He was sliding the tip of his cock up and down the lips of my pussy and I pushed my hips against his, trying to get him inside.

“Fuck,” he groaned through clenched teeth, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, I need it so badly.” Clawing at my remaining clothes and panting into my mouth, he entered me.

“Oh god,” I sighed. My eyes were fluttering shut and my mouth hung open in unabashed pleasure. His beautiful cock now felt impossibly large and I felt fuller than I ever had before. It was almost painful but I still was on the verge of coming. I could tell that it was going to be fast, but it was exactly what we needed. Years of pent up want and underlying desire manifested in his manic thrusting. All I could hear was the sounds of our breathing and our bodies meeting and slapping against each other. He growled into my neck as I clung to him, my head thrown back, my hair creating a pillow behind us.

Suddenly I felt his arm move between us, and his fingers found my throbbing clit. The slightest pressure was enough to push me into a screaming orgasm and his name echoed off the walls over and over. Almost simultaneously I felt his body tensing up, his deep penetrative thrusts becoming slower. And then it happened. His thrusting slowed from its manic pace and he stilled, his hips jerking in a slow violent motion as he let out a deep primal groan that fell into choking gasps as he continued pumping into me. Spurt after spurt, I could feel the ropes of cum coating my walls, and I squeezed around him, milking his cock for every last bit with my strong muscles.

“Christ,” he breathed, his head sinking into my shoulder. He rolled me over so I was sprawled across him, my legs tangled in his on the couch.

We clung to each other in silence, save for our gradually slowing pants. Our dewy skin stuck to each other. I felt dampness at my hairline and cringed, thinking of how I must look. With each passing second of silence I grew more anxious. I tried not to dissolve into a colossal panic attack. Instead I summoned my last remaining courage and whispered,

“Take me to bed.” I pressed my lips against his skin, waiting. He stared at me from the corner of his eye. I paused anxious, and finally I saw his lips curling upwards. Within seconds I was in the air, wrapped around him.

~~~~~~~~~

Something was pushing against me. Something hot and fabulously hard. What is that? What time is it? Then I realized what was happening. After we’d gotten back in my bed he’d gone down me, licking me to two orgasms while I rubbed his cock before we fucked again. But he seemed to be wanting more. Oh god yes. His fingers were lightly stroking my stomach with his arms draped protectively around my waist.

We were both quiet. He entered me slowly and I pushed back against him a little. With each thrust his breathing got more and more labored and right as I was about to come his panting turned to shallow moans. He really started shoving himself into me, slamming against my ass over and over. His fingertips circling my clit. Then teasingly touching it. Then rubbing it. Furiously. My hands dug into the sheets pulled up next to me and I let out a soft cry. I could feel him giving in. A few more pumps inside of me and I felt his shaft swelling. He groaned my name softly, pumping his semen into me.

“Mmm, that was nice,” I sighed sleepily.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he replied, kissing the crown of my head. And that’s just what I did.

~~~~~~~~~

“Abby?”

“Mmm?” He was stroking the side of my face, but my eyes weren’t opening.

“Abby?” he whispered.

“Mmmm,” I saw him through lidded, morning eyes. He was dressed already.

“The sounds you’ve been making really make me want to crawl back in there with you, but I’ve got to go get ready for work. I’ll call you later, okay?” He said smiling. I was still half asleep and rubbing my eyes open.

“Huh? Okay, sure.” He bent down, kissed my forehead and was gone.

What the fuck? A forehead kiss? A few minutes later I got up and went into the bathroom.

“Oh God!” I cried out seeing my own reflection. He just saw me like this? After washing my face and tackling my long untamed hair I began brushing my teeth free of morning mouth. My mind kept wandering to the events of the previous night and early morning. He’s not going to call me. I bet he’s plotting how he’s going to approach me about it right now. Spit. Rinse. He was just sad and lonely and I was an outlet for all of his emotions. What if he still just wants to be friends? But now the sex thing is already out there. Why does this sound familiar? Damnit, I knew that movie would come back to bite me in the ass. Jesus, Nora Ephron. Ben will think it was a mistake. Fuck. What was I thinking? First he’ll call me every once in a while, then maybe once a year, then will come a time that I’ll see him on a street and he’ll ignore me. That bastard.

The sound of the phone ringing interrupted my neurotic whirlwind of a rant. I hurried back into the bedroom.

“Hello?”

“I was just thinking about how much of an idiot I am.” Oh god, he thinks he’s an idiot for sleeping with me.

“I left without asking you if you were free tonight. I’m about to hop on the T, but how do you feel about sushi?” He asked.

“I’d love sushi.”

“Alright great, I’ll come by and get you around eight. And Abby?”

“Yes?” Here it comes.

“Last night was wonderful.” Ahhh. I made a sound somewhere between a dying bird and a broken lawnmower, “Alright eight it is, bye.”

Did I really just make that sound? What the hell am I going to wear? Are we going to fuck again? Are we going to talk about what this all means?

I could barely do anything at work without thinking about Ben and me. On my not so warranted extra long lunch break I went shopping in hopes of finding a date outfit. My workday finally ended and I practically ran out of my office.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Unhhhh God. Yes. Yes. Yes. Don’t stop, oh god don’t stop,” I wailed into his shoulder as he grunted, pounding into my body so hard that we were moving across my kitchen.

My head rolled back, mouth agape, letting out feral cries as my eyes happened upon the microwave clock. 8:10. Ben had arrived perfectly on time. Per usual. But unusual for us, when I’d answered the door he had attacked me, pushed me onto my kitchen table, pulled up my colorfully printed dress, tore off my tiny panties and started fucking me for everything he was worth. I didn’t mind.

My legs were wrapped tightly around his torso, and my still heeled feet were locked gently at the small of his back, as I tried to remind myself not to dig too hard into him. It was hard not to with him pummeling my wet cunt with the hard length of his beautiful cock.

“I’m gonna cum, oh god. I’m gonna cum,” I moaned, gripping at his back through his shirt and jacket. Ben had only undone his pants enough to free his cock, and we both were nearly completed dressed, thrashing around on the wooden table.

“That’s it baby, cum for me,” he groaned.

Suddenly my voice grabbed onto one long, deep moan and my cunt tightened around his cock. He cursed through gritted teeth and pulled my hips into him brutally. His thrusting was possessed and his face distorted with pleasure. Just as I was coming down from my own violent orgasm, he tightened his grip on me and a shout tore from his throat.

“Unh fuckkkkkk.”

He continued pumping into me with short jerky motions, as our panting slowly started to subside. We were both sweating and smiling stupidly. Nearly collapsing on top of me on the table he pushed my sex tousled hair out my face,

“Hi,” he said simply.

“Hi,” I returned.

“You look very pretty tonight,” he added with a grin, “are you ready for sushi?” We both couldn’t contain our laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You know you want it,” I said prodding him, “Go on take it.”

Finally he reached over with his chopsticks and took the last spicy tuna roll.

“You’re too kind my dear,” he said grinning at me. Dinner had been amazing. I walked in thinking it would be an awkward post-coital encounter like it was for Harry Burns and Sally Albright. Then again I’m not a movie character. We talked about everything. Well, almost everything. We just didn’t talk about what was happening between us. Instead we talked about work, friends, the Red Sox, the DNC’s invasion of our city. There were no awkward silences, yet every once in a while he gave me a look that I had never seen before. A look that told me he was thinking about how he had just fucked my brains out over my kitchen table.

“Do you think Kerry will win?” I asked. He rolled his eyes and took a sip of water,

“No. Well, maybe. Who the hell knows? It’s sort of a lose-lose situation whatever happens.” I laughed.

“The keynote speaker was really good though,” he continued.

“Who gave the address this year?” I asked, completely out of synch with the events of the last few days.

“Some guy running for Senate in Illinois. Barack Obama.”

“Never heard of him.”

After a peaceful trek back to my apartment we stood outside the front steps kissing. His hand was resting gently on my chin, lifting my face up to his.

“Do you want to come up,” I whispered breathily against his lips.

“Why,” he smiled, “Are you going to try to get me into bed with you?” A little past that, I’d say. I returned his goofy smile,

“No, I thought we’d just watch a DVD or something,” I replied seriously.

“Well, in that case,” his hand covered mine, our fingers entwining, “Sure.” He kissed me again pulling away he mocked,

“I’m really in the mood for Sleepless in Seattle. I’m just such a girl when it comes to that kind of stuff.” I punched his arm and led him up the stairs.

That night we had sex for the fifth time in about twenty-four hours, but it was the first time it really felt like making love. Torturous undressing and foreplay, wet kissing, looking into each other’s eyes, clinging to each other’s bodies kind of making love.

~~~~~~~~

Letterman’s monologue sounded in the background as I folded my clean undies and socks.

“You know you really don’t have to help me fold my laundry. I can manage,” I said turning to him. He sat on the other side of the bed with a pile of t-shirts next to him.

“I don’t mind.”

“Alright. Weirdo.”

“Hey, what’s this doing here?” he asked shocked. I looked up and saw a ratty, fading black t-shirt in his hands.

“You little thief, I never said you could keep this,” he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. My face turned red as I watched him examining the old Pearl Jam shirt. I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed because I had kept it after our awkward dorm room encounter, or because it still made it into my regular rotation.

“How ever did that get in there?” I asked lightly.

“Oh, I think you know how it got in there,” he said pulling me to him. I settled in between his thighs and stared into his eyes. They were laughing.

“I have a confession to make. That t-shirt is very comfortable and nice to wear to bed.”

“And-” he continued.

“And it reminds me of that night. And the first time we kissed. And the first time you touched me. It just reminds me of you,” I said my eyes darting down towards the bed.

“Well I suppose I have a confession to make too then. Because the memory of you grinding all over my lap that night in that shirt has probably been my favorite masturbatory fantasy these last twelve years.”

“Really? You’ve thought about me while jerking off?”

“Uh yeah,” he said as if it were a dumb question, “As I suspect you have done the same. And by that I mean brought yourself to mind blowing orgasms thinking of yours truly.”

“Nope. Not once.” I said teasingly.

“Brat.”

“Yes, but I’m your brat.” He gave a half smile and kissed me. Before he could lean in for another, deeper kiss I pulled away and asked,

“Why didn’t this happen a long time ago?”

His eyes softened. “I don’t know. I guess I was just afraid it wouldn’t be like this.”

“Like what?” I whispered softly.

“Perfect,” he replied. I kissed him this time, and wrapped my legs around him as we sat on the bed. One of his hands slowly trailed its way up my stomach, feeling my warm skin until reaching my breasts. He began fondling the soft flesh as I ground my hips against his.

My breath was coming in short pants and I quickly pulled my shirt off, feeling Ben’s gaze lock on my bare chest and hard nipples. I let one of my hands rest in his lap between my thighs, rubbing against his cock, which was now pressed hard against his shorts. He groaned and I pulled my hand away, letting it come up to my tits, touching and teasing my hard nipples.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he murmured softly, watching me.

“You’re not too bad, I guess,” I sighed, and he gave me a light slap on the ass.

“Hey!” I cried, but he was already attacking my neck with his tongue, lips, and teeth. In turn I pressed against him and reached for his shirt, and his hands met mine helping me to get it over his head. I tilted my head back as his mouth moved down my neck and throat finally ending at my breasts, alternating between each one, kissing and licking my nipples.

I realized what a slut I must look like, topless with just flimsy panties on, grinding against Ben, who was still mostly clothed. As if reading my mind he quickly removed his t-shirt, revealing his toned chest. Finally I moved away from his mouth, sliding back in his lap, I found the button and zipper on his shorts, and quickly undid them before reaching into his boxers and pulling out his hard on. It was already throbbing in my hands, and he let out a small sound of relief, almost a whimper as I took him in my hands. The head was leaking pre-cum all down his hard shaft and I moved my thumb over the shiny head, teasing him and spreading the liquid down to the base.

“Oh god,” he sighed, briefly closing his eyes. Before I could continue with my almost handjob he brought me back closer in his lap and kissed me while sliding his hand down my front until his fingers we’re pressed against the damp cotton of my panties. He first rubbed my hot cunt through the fabric, finding my clit and tormenting me with his masterful touch. I began panting against his mouth, crying out through our kiss as his fingers made their way under my panties and inside of my aching cunt. I was so wet that three of his fingers slid with ease inside of me as his thumb continued to work my clit.

“Ben,” I gasped against his hot lips, “I need it. I need you inside me baby,” I cried. He quickly maneuvered my legs over his side and we slid off my panties together, and in an instant I was back in his lap, and even quicker I was sliding myself down onto his thickness. Impaling myself on his cock. I stared into his eyes until he was buried to the hilt and we smiled at each other as his hands found my hips. I began riding him slowly, gasping at how full he made me feel, feeling every inch of him pulsating.

“You have such a nice cock,” I blurted out, too high on sensation to even realize what I was thinking. He laughed and cupped my chin with his strong hands, kissing me. I continued bouncing in his lap, and as our tongues met. I could somehow still feel him smiling. My fingers twirled around his soft hair and moved down to the nape of his neck. His continued to dig into my hips with each downward thrust of my pelvis onto his. We soon had a quick rhythm built and I broke the kiss to lean back.

The sounds of bodies slapping against each other filled the room along with our panting voices. I ground myself against him with each downward stroke and one of his hands strayed from my side to find my throbbing clit.

“Oh god that feels so good,” I cried out as he began circling it with two fingers. I closed my eyes and let my hands wander from my breasts up into my hair, biting my lip as louder moans threatened to come out of my parted lips. He cringed in pleasure, and leaning back I could see him watching me. I squeezed my cunt tight around him on one downward thrust and he closed his eyes,

“Fuck,” he moaned. We both knew we were close. We really began slamming into each other, almost trying to push the other to come first. I opened my eyes again and he rose up to me, kissing me again and my arms once again wrapped around his neck. I held onto him for dear life as we continued our relentless fucking.

“Ben, I’m going to come,” I whimpered into his ear. He grabbed my ass and pulled me even harder onto him,

“Fuck,” I cried, “oh god, I’m gonna come.” There were no more coherent words after that, as my whole body began to shake uncontrollably and I felt my orgasm washing out of me and spreading through every limb. Ben continued driving his cock deeper into my dripping pussy and the sounds of our bodies and his breathy grunts in my ear were enough to send me over again, but this time I felt him jerking underneath me, grabbing onto my hips and holding me still above him as he lost himself deep inside of me, groaning my name against my neck. We stayed like that for a few minutes, panting in each other’s arms. Eventually he moved further back down the bed, but I stayed on top of him, resting my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow down gradually while his fingertips ran through my now somewhat damp hair.

“Ew, Craig Kilborn,” I sighed, listening to him talk to some guest in the background. Ben laughed softly,

“I’m so glad you don’t like him either,” he said seriously, “late night talk show preferences are kind of a big deal.”

“They are!” I agreed enthusiastically.

“Letterman’s the best, but I’ll deal with Leno if Letterman is a rerun. And I like some of the stuff Leno has on his show,” I continued.

“Agreed, agreed,” he said and I could feel him nodding behind me.

“Kilborn is just creepy, and Conan is kind of -” I paused searching for the word.

“Twitchy?” Ben completed.

“Exactly. But I’ll -”

“Take him over Kilborn?” he asked.

“Yes!” I sighed.

“Well look at that, we’re two losers with no lives made for each other,” he said patting my head.

“You’re so sweet,” I whispered dreamily.

~~~~~~~~~

“Jesus, I did not see that one coming. Let me tell you, that guy knows his plot twists,” I said as we entered Ben’s apartment, returning from a viewing of The Village.

It had been just over a week since we first slept together, and I was growing desperately accustomed to this kind of life with him. In only a few days we’d already worn out every part of my apartment. The couch, my bed, the floor next to my bed, the shower, every somewhat comfortable chair in sight, the kitchen counter, the bathroom sink, the refrigerator (long story for that one). I liked finally coming to his much nicer, much larger, Back Bay apartment. It seemed like a hotel compared to my cramped little hellhole.

“I didn’t see that either, but I knew Bruce Willis was dead in that other one. Come on, no one living ever talks to him besides that creepy little kid,” he said proudly. I let out a skeptical laugh.

“You did not know he was dead. The whole American public didn’t know he was dead. I think Bruce Willis even had to watch it twice.” I said standing over him where he sat on the big leather couch.

“Oh I knew,” he said resolute. His smirk made me feel weak. His hands pulled at my hips and suddenly I was in his lap, which seemed to be my permanent residence as of late.

“Okay, Haley Joel Osment,” I teased. He smiled, and kissed me softly.

“I love you Abby. I hope you know that,” he whispered after he’d pulled away. I did know. But it was still so amazing to hear those words coming off his lips.

“I love you. I always have,” I whispered back in one of my few serious moments.

Moments later he was carrying me into his bedroom as I laughed from his kisses on my sensitive neck.

Moments later he was burying his face between my legs, pulling my panties off, and spreading my inner thighs with his strong hands. He started licking up and down the wet, smooth flesh, parting my lips with his tongue. He was slowly assaulting me with deliberate strokes, as he held my hips tightly pinned to the bed. He made me feel so vulnerable and beautiful, pinned underneath him, worshiped by his mouth. I gasped as his tongue fucked in and out of my hot depths and he brought two fingers to my clit, rubbing it in delicious, wet circles.

“Ohhh,” I could only moan. I brought my hands to my breasts, caressing them and playing with my aching nipples while Ben continued his methodical torture. The first touch of his tongue on my erect clit caused my toes to curl and my back to arch up against him. He continued to circle the little nub, probing with his hot tongue. My cries grew louder and seemed to swallow us while my hands found a place in his hair. He took my clit between his soft lips and began sucking on it, tugging on it playfully,

“Yes. Oh god yes!” I cried out, my head thrown back in ecstasy. I could feel it building in my thighs and in my stomach. Just a few more torturous touches and I would explode into waves of almost endless pleasure.

My eyes closed, my thighs so tight around Ben’s head that I briefly worried for his safety, I began calling out his name, losing control to the amazing feeling surging between my legs. He lifted my ass up and drove his mouth even harder against my swollen cunt, his tongue circling and exploring at a rapid pace. Finally he once again found my throbbing clit, except this time he started slamming his fingers inside of me as well. First two, then three fingers pumping in and out of my tight opening.

My whole lower body continued bucking uncontrollably against his assault and his hands squeezed my ass, keeping me pushed hard against him. His fingers curled and found the spot behind my clit, right where his tongue was performing things that I hadn’t even heard about on Literotica.

“Ben!” I gasped, my body practically off of the bed. “Oh, Ben! Oh yes, yes, yes. God I’m cumming, ohhh,” I screamed out. My heels sliding down his back, my thighs holding him in a head lock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You hair smells nice,” he sighed, my head resting on his chest. My eyes were fluttering open and closed and my mind growing fuzzy in a post-orgasmic stupor. Suddenly he started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, his chest heaving. He stopped for a moment and then the laughter was back with an even greater intensity.

“Tell me!” I demanded, poking him.

“I was just-” laughter, “I was just thinking about that time-” Spit it out for Christ’s sake.

“Do you remember that time we were at the beach and you got your braces stuck in that towel?” Fits of laughter, “And your mom kept pulling on your head. I just can’t get that image out of my mind,” he said losing himself in laughter, “she just kept pulling,” he kept repeating. I just stared as he continued, “and you were screaming, then finally we had to ask the lifeguard for scissors–”

“You said you would never bring that up ever again. Ever!” I yelled, hitting him in the side and rolling away.

“Abby, don’t be mad.”

“Shut up.” He moved closer to me, kissing my neck. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against my skin. “The braces paid off though. You have very nice teeth. And very sexy lips-”

“At least I couldn’t help the fact that metal easily gets caught in terry cloth. You however, spent two conscious months cultivating the ugliest goatee I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“That was ten years ago!” he shot back defensively as he rolled himself on top of me bringing his hands to my face.

“That doesn’t make it any less disturbing,” I said softly, smirking at him.

“Metal mouth.” He said scrunching his nose at me.

“Chin pubes,” I spat.

“That’s it!” he growled as he launched at my sides with his tickling fingers.

“Stop!” I cried. He continued his onslaught.

“Benjamin! Stop! Stop! Uhh, oh god,” I cried as he suddenly pinned my arms above my head, rolling his hips against me. He rubbed his dick against the hot lips of my still wet cunt.

“Oh Ben don’t stop, don’t stop baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another week. Another week spent practically living in his apartment; waking up in his arms. Another week filled with walks through the city, his cooking, our laughter, kissing, fucking, making love. Each time I told another friend about the recent turn of events they screamed and made vomit inducing “aw” sounds. But I loved it. I loved finally saying the words, “We’re dating.”

Dazing off at my desk I stared at the fish screen saver on my computer. My inner eye was filled with much different images. My legs lifted above Ben’s shoulders, his sculpted body, the sight of his beautiful cock disappearing into my pussy and reappearing shiny and wet. His face between my legs. My tongue teasing the head of his cock. The look on his face as he stared down at me, watching my mouth swallow his length. The brief smile that formed on his lips before he came.

My mind wandered to the night before when he’d stroked his cock watching me finger myself on his bed, and then “convinced” me to let him fuck my tits. I could almost still feel the dripping head of his cock sliding between my breasts. I remembered the taste of his precum when I teased my tongue over it when he thrust his cock forward. My hands pushed my breasts together, creating a tunnel for his hard prick. The sounds of his ragged grunts and panting still echoed in my ears, along with his final agonized groan when he had covered my firm mounds with cum.

I was still thinking about Ben rubbing his semen into my skin and I could almost feel my body vibrating in response. After massaging his seed onto my tits he’d nearly bent me in half and fucked my brains out. I realized the vibrating wasn’t my own body, and I finally snapped myself out of my pornographic mind reel and looked down at my phone. Text message.

Im so fucking hard. In meeting – thinking about last night. Where did u learn to bend like that?

I blushed instantly.

My yoga teacher. He really pushes me hard. Just the way I like it. I responded.

A few moments later he replied.

Funny girl. What r u wearing?

Nothing. Im naked and spread eagle on my desk w/ a sign that says “come and get it” next to me.

An even faster reply.

U must be real popular around the office today. But really, what r u wearing?

Just a smile.

Very cute. In that case I wish I was there.

Loser.

It vibrated instantly. Slut.

Pervert.

Tart.

Manwhore.

Strumpet.

Oh, I think we have a winner. I’ll see you at home. I closed my phone, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ben?” I whispered.

“Mmm?” he sighed from behind me.

“You up?”

“No.” I could feel him smiling against my neck.

“I’m hungry,” I said simply.

“Okay.”

“You know what I could really go for right now?”

“Macaroni and cheese?” he asked flatly.

“Creepy. How the hell did you know that?” I asked shocked. He propped himself up on his arm and looked down at me.

“Well, first off, it’s not all that unusual for you to want macaroni and cheese. You buy it by the gross. Second, it’s not good for you. And third I just know you.”

“Do you have any?”

A few minutes later we sat in his kitchen, as I prepared the instant Mac N Cheese.

“You know, you’re the only girl that would eat macaroni cheese to begin with. And to top it off, eat after 8pm,” he said seriously.

“I guess that’s supposed to make me feel good?” I asked raising an eyebrow.

“No, it is. It’s healthy. Well, maybe not healthy, but you know what I mean. You’re normal. But still very slim. Jesus, I should have never said anything,” he said covering his sleep-deprived eyes.

“Maybe not. But thanks for the sort of niceish compliment,” I said smiling at the sound of the microwave ding-ing.

“Anything for my favorite Shiksa,” he said in his best old Jewish mother impression.

I laughed, batting my eyelashes dramatically, “Do I have shiksappeal?”

“Oh, you’re loaded with shiksappeal. You’re a Shiksa Goddess,” he said leaning over the counter to brush pieces of hair out of my face.

We sat there for a few minutes of peaceful silence. Minus my ladylike chomping. “You don’t know everything about me,” I muttered quietly, pausing to look up from my trough.

“What?” he asked confused.

“Earlier, when you said you knew me,” I said frowning.

“Abby, I could go on for hours on how well I know you. It’s almost scary the minute details of each other’s lives we know,” he said, stealing my fork and taking a bite from the bowl.

“Like what?” I sighed, dragging the fork from his hands as if I was a mother animal in the wild protecting my child.

“Like,” he sighed, “the fact that you’d rather cut off your left arm than share food. You love winter, expensive highly impractical shoes, Frank Capra movies, and complex carbohydrates. You have a soft spot for pre-electric Dylan. You hate Robin Williams. If there’s one actor you hate more than Williams, it’s Tom Cruise. You find kabbalah suspect along with musicals, fingerless gloves, and vegans. You have poor circulation and your feet are always cold. Especially when they touch mine in the middle of the night. You’re almost strangely a-political, and would rather judge public figures based on “cuteness.” You can handle your liquor but you’re also an adorable drunk. You bite your nails when you’re nervous, and you cry at the end of Homeward Bound. I could go on, but I’m getting tired,” he said finally taking a breath.

I sat staring at him quizzically over the edge of the plastic bowl as I scraped it clean of excess cheese sauce.

“That was creepy in an “it-puts-the-lotion-on-its-skin” kind of way,” I said smiling.

“Shut up,” he laughed. I leaned over the cold marble counter and kissed his cheek.

“Very cute actually,” I whispered. We sat for a few moments in contented silence.

“Who drags their boyfriend out of bed to make Mac N Cheese in the middle of the night?” he asked rhetorically, smiling.

“This shiksa,” I giggled.

“Oh right. You’re what we, and by we, I mean my super-Jewish aunts and grandmother, call meshugeneh,” he laughed.

“What’s that?” I asked, yawning.

“Beautiful. Very beautiful,” he said with a grin that told me he was lying. But it didn’t matter. Maybe I was meshugeneh.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Ben, I’m sorry man, but you’re dreaming. The Red Sox have no chance,” my friend Jen’s fiance said. He was from New Jersey and a die-hard Yankees fan. We beat him on occasion.

“I don’t know. Ortiz is hot this season, and I really think Schilling might come through for us.” Ben replied coolly. I stood behind Matt’s chair watching the conversation unfold.

“Yeah he’s hot headed more like it, getting ejected from games. And Schilling’s gonna choke. Mark my words, Derek Jeter will have his fifth ring come October.”

“You’re probably right, Matt,” Ben said while grinning at me.

“Derek Jeter is hot,” I interjected a little bit tipsy.

“Well there’s an intelligent opinion,” Ben laughed. I flopped into his lap, almost forgetting how short my dress was. I attempted to pull down the hem over my bare thighs and noticed Matt obviously trying his best to look away from the scene I was creating.

“Well, he is quite an attractive man. Matt, isn’t Derek Jeter very attractive?” I asked.

“I’d do him,” he responded seriously. We laughed and Jen wandered over, pulling Matt away to go talk to someone. We were isolated on a tiny couch in my friend’s posh apartment. Every once in a while Jen would throw and extravagant dinner party for no particular reason. It just gave us girls an excuse to get dressed up and drink martinis.

“Hi,” I whispered close Ben’s ear.

“Hi there,” he said, smiling at me.

“Katherine’s friend was so boring I had to get out of there. So I came and found you.”

“Which one is she again?” Ben asked, his eyes moving down to the hem of my dress.

“The one with the really bad cropped hair cut. She said she was going for Edie Sedgwick, it looks more like Leonardo Dicaprio in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape,” I sighed.

He let out a burst of laughter as his fingers toyed with the shimmery fabric of my dress.

“You know, while this dress is very pretty, it barely covers your ass.” Ben murmured in a low husky voice.

“It’s not that short.”

“Well maybe not when you’re standing, but it is when you’re jumping into people’s laps,” he said with an amused look.

“You like it,” I teased.

“I do.” He said, even lower.

I shifted a bit, purposely trying to rub against him.

“A lot actually,” he groaned, darting his tongue against the skin just below my ear. I turned my face to his and kissed his neck lightly.

“You like my ass, Ben?” I asked, nuzzling against him.

“Yes.” He was practically panting now. I moved my lips up to his mouth.

“Do you want to fuck my ass, Ben?” I asked between kisses, emboldened from too many cocktails. A brief look of shock passed over his face, as I suspected he never predicted I would be the one to bring up that subject. Or that I had even done it before.

“Fuck,” he breathed. I shifted more in his lap, grinding against his hardening cock.

“It certainly feels like you do,” I sighed breathily, while reaching down to stroke his hard on through his pants.

He gasped as my hand made contact with his hardon through his dress pants.

“Jesus, Abby stop it,” he said, sounding tortured.

“No,” I murmured into his neck, simply tracing the outline of his cock with my hand, rubbing his length up and down. I could feel him losing control, and I kissed him passionately feeling his tongue and hot panting breath entering my mouth.

“Come with me,” I whispered, climbing out of his lap and resting my hand out. He grabbed it quickly and I pulled him to Jen’s small half bath adjacent to the sitting room.

Once inside he pinned me against the door, lifting my legs around him. He was pushing my dress up as I fumbled with his belt. He was excited and I knew he wanted to fuck. I summoned all my will power and pushed him away, adjusting the hem of my dress.

“What’s wrong?” he breathed.

“Nothing,” I sighed moving towards him, “I just don’t want to do it here.”

“Well, why did you bring me in here then,” he said trying to curb the disappointment I saw rising in him. If only he knew my plans for him.

“Well,” I smiled, “First I planned on doing this,” and with that I trailed my hand down his chest, sinking to my knees as I did, finally resting on the tiny shag carpet, pulling at his slacks and boxers, freeing his cock. I teased the head with my tongue while looking up at him.

“Jesus, Ab,” he moaned. I began descending on his length, using everything I’d learned about him and his preferences in our short time together to get him as hot as possible. I gently tugged on his balls as I took as much of him in my mouth as I could, rubbing my tongue against the underside of his cock. He grabbed the side of the sink, as I used my free hand to push the straps of my dress down, exposing the tops of my breasts that were spilling out of my strapless black bra. He looked down at my breasts and my lips around his cock and my big, black lined eyes staring at him and his head fell back. He was going to come. And I hadn’t even dropped the bomb yet.

I took my mouth off him for a few minutes, to jack his hard length, covered in his precum and my saliva.

“Ben,” I sighed breathily.

“Hmm,” he replied his eyes closed.

“I want you to come in my mouth, baby.”

He groaned in response.

“And then I want you to take me home, and fuck my pussy, and then,” I said pausing to twirl my tongue along his head, “I want you to fuck my ass.”

His eyes shot open at that one. And I took him back in my mouth, showing no mercy this time, and in a few seconds he was erupting in my mouth, choking back ragged gasps. Afterwards I cleaned up my face with a tissue as he readjusted his pants.

I saw him looking at me in the mirror and turned to face him. He pushed me against the sink, kissing me passionately, tasting himself on my lips. I smiled, pulling away from him.

“So I’ll take that as a, yes I’d like to do that too,” I said grinning. He was kissing me again.

“Yes,” he moaned into my mouth.

“Alright, let’s go then.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move faster.

We barely made it up to his apartment. In the hallway we slid our bodies against each other, feeling the heat from our skin through each other’s clothes. As he tried to fit his key in the doorway I giggled and kissed his neck, gently nibbling. Stumbling inside we kissed hotly, clawing at our clothes until we found ourselves naked in his bedroom, a trail of fabric and shoes leading back to the front door.

He went down on me for what felt like hours. Agonizing, blissful hours. In all reality it was probably about twenty minutes, but the alcohol in my body combined with my unending arousal made it feel like hours of perpetual orgasm. Afterwards I felt like I had cum for the Commonwealth. Once my screams died down and my thighs opened to let him out of a crushing headlock we were kissing. Frenzied kissing.

“Turn over, baby,” he whispered.

I got on all fours, my cheek pressing against his soft luxurious sheets. His prick spread my pussy lips and entered me. He wasn’t wasting any time, I could tell. His slow, deep thrusts were torturous, and I could feel another orgasm cresting over me. Then I felt as he started working a finger into my ass.

“Oh fuck,” I cried.

His panting was still controlled.

“God baby, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed. My whimpers grew into short moans. It was coming. He could feel it, and he added another finger.

“Oh god, Ben. Ohh”

“That’s it baby. Cum for me.” His fingers were now pumping in and out of my ass in time with his thrusting cock.

“Oh yes,” I cried out as my orgasm finally crashed over me. His dick still felt like steel inside of me. I felt him slipping it out from my cunt. He ran the slippery head over my ass. I felt him at the opening. Holy fuck this is going to hurt.

“Abby, are you sure you want to?” he asked sweetly unsure, but still rubbing his cock against me.

“Mmm, yes. Fuck my ass Ben. I want it.”

“Fuck, say that again.”

“Fuck my ass, Ben. I want your big cock in my ass.”

“Oh god.” He started to slide the head inside. I tried my best to relax, but I could feel myself tightening.

Fucking hell, he feels huge.

“Christ,” he hissed. He was barely two inches inside of me and I felt full already. Slowly he began to push more into me.

“Ahh god,” I cried, grabbing onto his headboard as my face fell against the stack of pillows. The pain was nearly unbearable, but filled with pleasure at the same time.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Feels so fucking good,” he panted.

We began to fall into a rhythm. Ben gently thrust into me as much as I could take more of him and I let out muffled screams. One of his hands stayed on my hip as the other came around and played with my wet pussy. My clit was so sensitive from my last orgasms that with barely one touch of his deft fingers I felt another one tearing through me.

His breathing was more labored and I felt him giving in. His thrusting gained speed, and I couldn’t help the high-pitched moans escaping from my mouth as he took my ass and continued working my sensitive little clit.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm yes yes,” I cried, grabbing handfuls of sheets, and he met each of one my breathy whimpers with a tortured moan.

The second I began slamming my ass back against him I could tell he was losing control. He leaned over my back, humping my ass, holding onto the headboard above me.

“God baby, fuck I’m gonna cum,” he growled, his cock filling my ass.

“Yes cum for me baby, I want it deep inside of me,” I cried.

“Ohhh fuckkk,” he roared and I felt his cock erupting inside me. He continued to pump everything he had into me until we collapsed together. Never had I felt so exquisitely worn out before that I was asleep before we could even clean up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You look good in glasses,” I said breathily as I spied him from across the room.

“No I don’t. And I’m not having sex with you again, but nice try.”

“That’s a little cocky of you. Who said I wanted sex?” I said giving him the eyes.

“There are so many things I could say right now. One being I’ve spent ninety percent of this morning literally inside of you, rather than doing work.” He didn’t look up from his stack of folders and papers, but I still saw the faint trace of smile crossing his lips.

“It’s a Saturday. Live a little.”

“Oh, princess, I think we’ve lived a lot, and it’s not even noon.”

I could still feel his cum leaking into my panties. Maybe he has a little bit of a point.

“Perhaps you’re right.” He smiled and put down his papers and gazed at me.

“What?” I asked pulling his long button down shirt past my thighs.

“Nothing,” he said pausing. “Listen I’m gonna go take a shower, and then really focus on some of this stuff, so that maybe I can take my trollop of a girlfriend out for a nice romantic dinner tonight.”

“I’m going to take trollop of a girlfriend as “loving, caring, beautiful” girlfriend.”

“You really should get that selective hearing checked out,” he said grinning, and dodging the pillow I shuttled at him.

“Go take your shower.”

I was still smiling a few minutes later when the water started running. I wandered around the apartment, spying a clean pair of Ben’s boxers and slipping them over my panties. As I poured a cup of very old coffee I felt strangely peaceful dressed in his clothes, encased in his smell. Just as I was about to sit back on the couch my front door opened. What the fuck?

“Hey crackwhore, where are you?” a familiar voice called out.

“In here.” Did I really just respond to crackwhore?

“Ah, there you are my lovely big sister.”

“What do you want, Jack?” I asked looking up at the lanky figure standing over me. He definitely looked like he was one day two of the same outfit.

“Why do you think I want something? I can’t just be coming here to visit my one and only generous sibling. My only alliance in this world against Mom.” Finally he looked down at my scant outfit and then looked back at me.

“Wait, am I interrupting something.”

“Yup, as always,” I sighed.

“Always? When have I ever interrupted you before?”

“Like when I was five and you interrupted my perfectly peaceful life, by coming into it.”

“Alright, well take that one up with Linda and Big Jim.”

“First of all, ew,” I said, trying to push all thoughts of my parents conceiving from my mind. “Second of all, can you just tell me whatever it is you need?” I asked wearily.

“I need your car. Just for the night. I’m dropping Claire off at Brown. I’ll have it back to you by tomorrow morning.”

“Why do you date toddlers?” I asked frowning at him.

“She’s an ivy league toddler, alright? Plus she’s only four years younger than me, you prude.”

“Fine, whatever, take the car. But I swear to God Jack, if anything happens to it, or happens in it, and I find out — you will really wish you were never born.”

“Hokkay sounds good, Pebbles,” he said, flashing a toothy grin.

“Will you stop with that nickname?” I groaned. A nickname I had earned from my dad when I was still a toddler, before my auburn hair had darkened.

“Nope, you’ll always be Pebbles. Speaking of, who’s the new Bamm Bamm?” He said motioning to the bathroom with a wink.

“Oh, you don’t know him.” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Shut up, at least I don’t play musical beds with college coeds.” Jack laughed, as I found my keys on the coffee table. The shower stopped.

“Alright,” I said throwing the keys at him, and standing up. “You should get going, have a good time, and give Claire my best. Okay? Bye,” I added nearly pushing him across the room.

“Wait, wait, what are you hiding? So what if there’s a guy here, I don’t care.” He said as I heard the bathroom door opening.

“Babe, do you know where those khaki shorts of mine are-Jack, hey.” Ben said freezing in his tracks, clad in only one of my towels. “Actually I think I know where they are,” he said, quickly turning back towards my bedroom. Cringing, I turned to Jack, who blew out a rush of air from his mouth and bent over laughing.

“WHAT? I didn’t know you guys were doing it,” he cried.

“Doing it? What are you fourteen now? Yes, Jack, I guess we are. Don’t go spreading it around the lunch room.”

He was still laughing, nearly falling over himself.

“God, this is good. Does Linda know?” he said, now really excited.

“NO! God, Jack, if you tell her I will kill you.” I said pushing his arm.

“Stop with all these threats, Ab. I won’t tell her if you don’t want me to, but I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to. I mean she treats Ben like a patron saint. If she knew you two were together you wouldn’t have to deal with all the shit you get from her about Joe and all those ex-losers of yours.”

“Hey, I’ve never dated losers, unlike some people I know,” I said narrowing my eyes at him.

“Don’t look at me. But really, your secret’s safe with me. I just think you’re crazy for keeping it secret to begin with,” he said seriously.

“I’ll tell her. I’m just not ready to tell our family. I mean Ben’s different, you know?” I said in a hushed voice so Ben wouldn’t hear. “I just don’t want to jinx things and have everything blow up in my face.”

“I know he’s different. I would say he’s like a brother, but that’s now borderline creepy,” he said as we both laughed.

“Alright, your car and your cloak-and-dagger romance are safe with me sis.” He said kissing my cheek.

“Be safe,” I admonished, as he walked to the door.

“Bye Benny Boy!” he called out to the other room. “I’m leaving, so you’re free to come out in your assless chaps and hat. Abby told me you were into that stuff, and I say good for you man. Let your freak flag fly.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good morning, princess,” he said kissing my cheek as I walked into his kitchen a few days later.

I gave him a look that was straight out of the Exorcist, Linda Blair style.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“You.” I said narrowing my eyes at him.

“Me? What did I do?” he asked with genuine concern.

“You agreed to go to my parents’ house tonight. I just checked my messages, and my mother left me one saying that you two had a nice little chat yesterday. Now I can’t make up an excuse not to go if you’re going.”

“Well, I’ll go alone if you want. I don’t care. She called me yesterday and invited me over. I didn’t know they got a new plasma TV. I just want to watch the game.” He said dipping his spoon back into the cereal.

“Don’t you hate it when it’s all bran and no raisins? Two scoops my ass,” he said while absent-mindedly flipping through the newspaper.

“You’re an idiot.” I said throwing the fridge door open. “The answer should always be no when it has to do with parties and my mother. No, Ben. No.”

“Calm down, Nancy Reagan. I don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just your parents and their friends not a bunch of drug pushers,” he said while taking an annoying slurp of milk between his teeth.

“Irrelevant,” I snapped. “Wouldn’t you rather stay home and watch the game without the screeching sounds of my mother’s voice in the background? Or even better, stay here and watch the Olympics,” I said goading him.

“Actually I’d like to see your mother,” he said with a stupid smirk.

“And,” he continued, “I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than watch another Olympic event. I still can’t believe you got me to watch gymnastics,” he replied shaking his head, his hair still disheveled from sex and sleep.

“Those gymnasts are amazing. Especially the men! Those little twins -” I said growing excited.

“Yes, Ab, I was sitting there with you. I remember, unfortunately. Why am I getting the feeling that it’s not your parents you’re worried about, but me? Why don’t you want me to go with you?”

“Uhh.” We’d been dating just a month and even though I was confident in our relationship, I wasn’t ready to risk my mother finding out about it until I was slightly more certain of its future.

“What?”

“Well, I just don’t know what you’re hoping we’ll go as.” His face suddenly sank. “No, no I mean I love you and I want to be with you, but I just don’t know if I want my parents knowing it too. Yet. Can we at least wait a few more weeks before we tell them? Believe me you will look back on them as the most peaceful weeks you’ve ever had, without my mom calling here almost every day to see if we’ve picked out names for her grandchildren.”

“I think we should tell them,” he said after a long pause.

“Well then I’m staying in and watching Olympic water polo.” His frustration was palpable, but he didn’t protest any further.

“Fine, we won’t tell them.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Abby, you look too thin. Don’t tell me you’re doing any of that South Beach crap? It doesn’t work, believe me,” she said bobbing her head like a turkey.

“Must be all that coke I’ve been doing. Speaking of which, can I borrow some money Mom? I’ll pay it back once I get the meth lab up and running.” She ignored me and turned to Ben.

“Doesn’t she look like she’s getting too thin, Ben?” she asked eyeing me as she thrust a bowl of tortilla chips at my face.

“I think she looks beautiful,” he said without missing a beat. My mother gave him a strange look. God, give it away why don’t you. He was in an extra good mood ever since I’d given him a blow job before we left.

“Mom, I pig out more than those competitive eaters on ESPN with the crazy expanding stomachs.”

“Well, you’re either lying, or your metabolism just hasn’t gone to shit yet. Start eating more veggies and less crap, because after your first baby you’ll balloon. Did you know I only weighed 135 pounds when I was nine months pregnant with you?” I was already walking away, and practically pulling Ben with me.

“Smooth there with that “beautiful” line,” I whispered elbowing him in the side.

“Ow, bitch,” he whined, “Well, be happy. I was going to say, ‘I think she’s beautiful, oh, and by the way your daughter had my dick down her throat twenty minutes ago’, but I thought that would be too much,” he said smiling.

“Yeah, just a little.”

At the end of the game (Red Sox won) I helped my mom put away some things in the dishwasher while friends still mingled throughout the surrounding rooms. One of my mother’s friend’s sons walked in carrying several wine glasses.

“Do you need any help?” he asked smiling at me. He was very good looking. I had to admit it. Blonde, blue eyed, and probably a complete mindfuck of a person, but good looking nonetheless. My mother had been trying to get me to talk to him all night. She hadn’t been very discrete about it either.

“How thoughtful of you, Eric. I’m just about done in here though. You know what? You haven’t gotten the full tour of the house yet,” she cooed. I could feel it coming already, “We just remodeled part of the upstairs last spring. Abby, why don’t you show Eric here the rest of the house?” She was a master at goading, and the look in my eyes told her how little I appreciated it.

“Sure,” I said sweetly, while flashing dagger eyes at her as we turned away from her.

Eric smiled at me and walked close to my body as we made our way through the adjoining dining room and into the hall. I felt strange passing Ben and my father who were sitting together in my dad’s study. Ben shot me a look as he saw us ascending the staircase.

Twenty minutes later we climbed up the staircase leading to the third floor and I led Eric into Jack’s room.

“So this is my brother’s room. As you can see unlike my room it hasn’t been converted into an arts and crafts center for my mother. When my parents redid our attic when Jack was in junior high, they let him come up here and have the biggest room in the house, away from everyone else.”

“Lucky guy,” Eric laughed.

“More like favorite child,” I quipped.

“He has a pretty impressive G.I Joe collection,” he said smiling.

“Indeed he does. Although it’s a little strange he kept them all the way through high school. He had a few issues.” We laughed and he moved closer to me. He was beginning to make me feel somewhat uneasy.

“Do you wear color contacts?” he asked suddenly.

“Uh, no. Why? Does it look like I do?”

“No, they’re just amazingly green. I’ve never seen such beautiful, bright green eyes before,” he said smiling. I smiled and thanked him as I tried to choke back the vomit that was forming.

“Sometimes I really wish I hadn’t gone away,” he said alluding to his boarding school, “I think we would’ve had a lot of fun in high school together. You’re very -”

“Hey,” came Ben’s voice from the doorway. We both looked up abruptly.

“Eric, some people downstairs are looking for you, just thought I’d let you know.”

“Oh okay, thanks man,” he said awkwardly, looking up at Ben and back to me,

“Abby thank you for the wonderful tour, it was fun.” He smiled gently and left, squeezing past Ben’s frame in the doorway and disappearing down the stairs. I hesitated to look at him, but finally spun back around. His face was like stone.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I didn’t realize you two were having so much fun.” I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

“I was just showing him the upstairs, it was no big deal.”

“Whatever, I’m going back down there,” he said turning. I grabbed him and pulled him back before he could make it to the first step.

“Ben, wait. What’s wrong?” He laughed, stepping away from me again.

“Nothing’s wrong Abby. I’m perfectly fine.”

“No you’re not. What’s going on?” I asked.

“No, I am. I assure you. In fact I really enjoy coming here as your old friend and watching your mother try to set you up with these assholes. I really enjoy sitting down there listening to your mother tell me about all these women that she thinks I would be good with when all I want to tell her is that I’m in love with her daughter.” Wait, what women?

“Eric isn’t an asshole. You don’t have to get jealous, he was just being –”

“That’s not the point, Abby,” he almost shouted. I was glad this argument was occurring on the third floor. “The point is that that guy, no matter how funny or nice he is, he probably wants to fuck you, and I can’t be upset about that. But at least if he knew you were my girlfriend he wouldn’t be hitting on you in front of me all night, and your mother wouldn’t be forcing these situations on us. So yeah, tonight I’ve been more jealous than I can remember being since you started living with Joe. But I think I have a little more reason to be this time around.” He stared at me, the anger in his face softening.

I didn’t say anything. Instead I practically jumped on top of him, kissing his mouth fiercely. We were kicking off shoes, tearing at each other’s clothes frantically as we kissed seductively, communicating our mutual desire with a synchronized rhythm of deep, sensual touches.

We collapsed naked on the bed and I straddled Ben, rubbing his battering ram of a cock with my hand. I crawled between his legs and flicked my tongue over the head of his prick, tasting his precum. Using my thumb I rubbed the shiny liquid down the shaft and let my spit mix with it, wrapping my hand around his wet prick and pumping it up and down.

“Fuck,” he moaned, closing his eyes. His hips were thrusting slightly, fucking my fist. Before I could take him into my mouth he grabbed my hands and pulled me up. Kissing me once again he rolled on top of me and rubbed my pussy with two fingers, letting them trace my lips, avoiding my clit on purpose. I arched my back trying to get more contact. He took his raging hard on in his hand and started slapping it against my mound.

“Oh god,” I closed my eyes, giving in to him, surrendering my body to him. “Fuck me baby. Fuck me so hard I can’t walk.”

“Christ,” he groaned harshly, sliding his hard prick up and down my wet cunt as I humped my hips up against him. He was kissing me again, coaxing my tongue, and I moaned against him, shuddering in his arms.

“You’re mine, do you hear that?” he breathed.

“Yes,” I whimpered.

“Yes, what?” he asked nipping my ear and pulling my hips forcefully against his.

“Oh god,” I sobbed. “Yes, I’m yours. Only yours.”

He groaned.

“Fuck me, baby. Please I want it so badly.” I cried, desperate. He kissed down my neck, lingering on my collarbone.

“Want what?” his voice was smothered against my skin. His hard on was sliding up and down my pussy, hitting my clit over and over, and I could barely breathe.

“Your cock. I want your cock deep inside of me.”

“Are you sure you really want it,” he asked, his voice low and rough.

“Yes,” I was practically crying.

“Beg for it.” He began sucking on my breasts, still rubbing his slick cock slowly over my soaked pussy, just barely parting my lips.

I shifted my hips, humping up against him uncontrollably. “Oh god, please.”

His mouth moved up to my neck. His tongue moved against my skin tasting salt and sweat, his strong body blanketing mine. My legs wrapped around him as we continued to rub our bodies together frantically, kissing, biting, licking each other’s flesh.

“Uhnn god. Please give it to me. I need your cock,” I panted in his ear, my fingers pulling on his soft hair.

His thick prick rubbed against my clit and I let out a tortured whimper.

“Where do you need it?” he growled.

“Ohh oh, I need it inside of me,” I moaned.

“Inside of you where?”

“My pussy, please Be-”

“Where, baby?” He said his eyes searing into mine.

“My pussy.” He only stared at me.

“Where?” he whispered forcefully. I knew what he wanted.

“My cunt. Baby I need you to slide it into my cunt.”

He groaned in response.

“Ben, please. I can’t stand it any longer. Please. Fuck me. Fuck me till I -” He pushed his length inside of me in one swift motion, whilst simultaneously attacking my lips again.

“You were asking so nicely,” he panted against them.

I was already coming. It was all too much; every sensation was becoming too intense. He was fucking me like it was his last day on earth, and on each thrust his pelvic bone ground against my clit.

He continued his crazed thrusting as my body nearly convulsed off the bed. Our uneven breathing filled the room and our bodies were sweaty, our hair sticking to our faces. He pushed my legs back towards my torso, bending them into an almost painful position. Suddenly his cock was thrusting even deeper inside of me and I brought my fingers down to tease my clit. He groaned watching my hand and drove into my bent body, filling me with his hardness. My tits bounced up and down and the bed was beginning to creak, and I grabbed onto the headboard with my free hand for support.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh,” I couldn’t form any coherent thoughts as my body skated into another set of orgasms. I closed my eyes, my lungs where getting tired when I felt Ben’s hand covering my mouth, muffling my screams. His thrusts began getting jerkier and I opened my eyes, watching his sweaty, pleasure filled face. His body stilled and he thrust his head back, closing his eyes and letting out a feral groan as he came inside of me.

A few minutes later, we were still catching our breath, as he held me to him on the bed, kissing my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” then hesitating in a small voice, “I hope I didn’t hurt you just now.” I turned in his arms and softly kissed him.

“I liked it,” I whispered biting his lip. “My mother was really trying to set you up with people too?” I asked suddenly.

“Yes,” he laughed.

“Jesus, she’s like Mrs. Bennet on crack.”

He laughed softly as I kissed down his neck.

“All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy–”

“No man does. That’s his,” I said continuing. “You know, I really hate you for saying that — even if it isn’t your own thought.” His eyes smiled at mine and he kissed me tenderly. We lingered there for a long time with delicate touches.

“I have a feeling this is the most action this bed has ever seen,” Ben sighed, and I laughed, thinking of Jack’s awkward high school years.

“Let’s go home.” I said, giving him one more kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning we sat lazily in his cocoon like bed. I was done reading a forgotten copy of Us Weekly and wanted his copy of the Times.

“Switch.” He passed the paper to me absent mindedly as I settled into the cushions. I turned to the crossword puzzle and grabbed a pencil. I definitely need an eraser for this baby.

“Us Weekly?” he asked, looking at me with a blank expression.

“What? It’s good.” He flung the magazine onto the bedside table and leaned on his side. I could feel him watching me. After a few minutes I grew tired of it.

“Quit staring at me, loser.” He laughed pushing the covers off of him and walked across the room. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he gradually put on layers of clothes and entered the bathroom.

“I’m going to go get a copy of The Globe and some coffee. What do you want?” he asked upon his return.

“Hmm…tall vanilla nonfat cafe latte. You’re the best.” He crooked an eyebrow at my request and chuckled.

“Alright I’m leaving.”

“Kiss me,” I whined. I was expecting a peck, but instead he leaned down and kissed me until I thought I couldn’t breathe anymore.

I hope our kisses are always like that.

“I’ll be back.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting up against a wall of pillows I gazed down at the paper. Baseball player. Six letters, Robinson. Jackie? Doesn’t work. Damn you Will Shortz.

I heard the door open and close and soon his footsteps were coming towards me. Took him long enough. I could’ve started up a Starbucks franchise in his apartment by now. Sensing his body in the doorway I didn’t even bother to look up,

“Hey, who’s this? Third basemen Robinson. Six letters.”

“Marry me,” he said in an even voice.

“That’s seven letters,” I replied, now looking up at his earnest face.

“Don’t be a shithead,” he said grinning.

“Well you’re off to a good start calling me ‘shithead’.”

“Abby, I’m serious. I just walked about forty extra blocks thinking about this. Actually, I was trying to get up the courage to do this.”

“Well then I take it the coffee is cold now,” I said smiling at him. He didn’t smile back, so I decided to take the bait.

“So what do you think?”

He paused and looked down. I had never seen this man look so nervous in all the years I’d known him.

“I think that I love you and want you in my life. I want the house with you and the golden retriever with you and a whole bunch of smart assed kids with you.”

“What makes you think they would be smart asses?” I asked coyly, trying my best not to absorb any of the meaning in his words.

“Look at you.” He smiled. I smiled. I felt nauseous. I needed to escape the warm confines of this down covered bed that still smelled like him. I needed to escape his anxious gaze.

“Hold on a second.” I said rapidly while simultaneously darting to the bathroom across the hall.

“Are you kidding?” he called out from behind me.

Bending over the bathroom sink I tried to catch my breath. And not throw up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

2003

Sam: Now here’s a bottle of ipecac if anybody drinks poison. It’s right next to the juice glasses.

“I love this movie,” sighed my mom. Typical. I could tell she was drifting towards sleep as we lounged on my parents’ bed. I lay on my stomach with my chin on her side, just as I had millions of times when I was a little girl.

“Is this sad?” I asked in a small voice.

“What?”

“That I’m a 29-year old woman lying in bed with my mom.”

Jonah: She thinks Brooks Robinson’s the greatest. So do you.

Sam: Everyone thinks Brooks Robinson’s the greatest.

“It’s not sad. I’m glad you’re here. I couldn’t get your brother to watch a movie with me even if I promised a hundred dollar bill for every minute of film,” she laughed, absent-mindedly stroking my hair with her fingers, and their perfectly manicured nails.

I rested my cheek against her hip and smiled at the familiarity.

Sam: I’ll show you a sign. Where’s Seattle. Right. Where’s Baltimore. Baaaahh, it’s right there. Look, 1, 2, 3, 4 there’s like 26 states between there and here. Now that’s a sign.”

“I can’t even believe I’m watching this movie. It just serves to depress me right now.”

“Men suck.” I groaned.

“Abby,” she said seriously.

“What?” I could already feel my defensive side rising.

“Someone out there right now, whether he be the next street over, or 26 states away is right for you. You just haven’t found someone who deserves you yet.”

“But Joe deser-” she cut me off before I could continue,

“Abby, you deserve more than what Joe had to offer. You deserve this.” She said, confusing me.

“What is that?” I asked.

“The movie ending.”

~~~~~~~~~

2004

“Abby?” he asked softly from the other side of the door.

“Yeah?”

“Are you coming out?” his voice was edged with anxiety.

“Uh huh,” I breathed. It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen this coming. I had. But just not now. So soon. Only a month. Well, twenty five years and a month. I thought about it. What would happen if we got married? Have the ceremony, go on the honeymoon, come back and have lots of newlywed sex, go off the pill, get pregnant, pop out a couple of kids, Ben would make partner, I’d still be working, there would be crazy schedules, less family time, moving, mortgages, schools, tuitions. What if Ben becomes one of those guys who demand I stop working? What if we never see our kids? What if we become one of those crazy neurotic families with foreign nannies? What if Ben has an affair with one our nannies? What the fuck am I talking about?

“Brooks Robinson,” he said behind the door.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Your six letter third basemen. Brooks Robinson, he played for Baltimore; probably one of the greatest third basemens ever.” I opened the door, and smiled at him. It was his turn to look confused.

“I think I’ve heard that somewhere before,” I sighed.

“I bet you have,” he said reaching into his pocket, “You know, I probably should have led with this,” he added taking out a tiny blue box. The type of blue any woman can identify in a second.

Hoomagawd. I was sure that people on the street below us could somehow see the sparkling diamond in front of me.

“Abby,” he began, his face was so soft and unsure, but I could see him beginning to smile as my face dissolved into a pile of emotions. I promised myself I would never become a crying mess in the face of a marriage proposal like all those sappy women in the movies, but I couldn’t help my glassy eyes from tearing up.

“I thought,” I said my breath catching, “that this was all spontaneous courage from your forty block walk. Where did this come from?” I said motioning to the ring.

“You think I just thought to do this?” he asked laughing. I smiled and tried to wipe my now wet cheeks. He caught my hands and smoothed the tears from my cheek with his fingers.

“Abby, I bought this ring three weeks ago,” he said softly. “In fact I knew I was going to ask you right after that first night together. I just wanted to give it a little time. I thought I could wait longer, but I don’t have the patience you do – that’s why I asked your dad last night if it was alright with him if I asked you to marry me.” I looked for the smile to come. He had to be joking.

“You didn’t,” I said dubiously.

“Are you mad?” he asked, still unsure.

“No, no, no,” I said rapidly, reaching for him and bringing his face close to mine.

“Why are you so good?” I asked, feeling the wetness on my cheeks trailing off the side of my face.

“More like why am I so lucky to have you? I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have you the last twenty-five years. I still don’t know why I was so stupid to have not done all of this a long time ago, but I don’t want to waste anymore time. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you next to me. Abby, I know we joke around, but I love you more than you could ever imagine. Please say yes.”

Meanwhile my face looked like Victoria Falls in flood season, but all I could think was one word. “Yes.” I said softly. “Yes, yes, yes,” I repeated, whispering into his ear as his arms encircled my waist, pulling me towards him.

“Oh thank god. Abby, I love you so much,” he sighed before his lips captured mine passionately.

I don’t know how long we stayed there, kissing, as he pushed me against the doorframe between his bathroom and hall. Seconds, minutes, hours, days could have passed unnoticed. Time stood still in the face of our nirvana like happiness.

“Ben,” I whispered against him,

“Uh huh?” he was still kissing me, and I could barely think of what I had to say.

“Ben, there’s just one problem I have with the whole thing you said earlier.” He pulled away slowly and his eyes took on the sad look I saw when I’d run to the bathroom.

“Maybe I don’t want a golden retriever,” I teased, “Maybe I want a little lap dog. What’dya think about that?” I said laughing as he grabbed me and pulled me up in arms.

“Little yippy dog, huh?” he asked kissing my neck.

“I’m thinking under 10 pounds.”

“If we had a dog that is only good for barking, and I could physically dropkick, then that’s just too tempting of a combination.” Ben sighed.

“Well that’s good then, because I’ve always wanted a black lab, not a lap dog.” I said giggling as he carried me back to his room.

“You’re a brat. You know that?” he whispered, lying me down on the bed. He was kissing me before I could give him my answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~