Amply Rewarded (23 page)

“This,” he said.

“What, exactly? I want to hear you say it.”

“I love this feeling,” he offered.

“Be more specific.”

He became very silent. Yes, this was awkward. And I was going to force him to deal with it. I wanted him to accept us for everything we were. I wanted us to be together, not just in body but linguistically, as well. I knew this was hard for him. Much harder, even, than having his ass fucked.

“I love your cock,” he finally muttered.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Don’t tease me…”

“Then be louder,” I ordered.

“I love your cock, Julie. I love your cock in my ass! Fuck me.”

“That’s it, my sweet. Just tell me what I want to hear and I’ll give you want you want from me.”

“Give it to me, Julie. Really give it to me. I want it hard. I want you to fuck me hard.”

“That’s it, baby. You tell me.”

We were in bliss together. I loved his words cheering me on like that. I penetrated him deeper and deeper as a pool of sweat developed between our naked bodies. I had never felt that close to someone before. I had never felt that level of ecstasy. It was as if I had tapped into an alter-ego, only to realise that I had become myself. It was one of the most profound moments of self-realisation of my sexual life.

With a growing force inside me and the feeling that Hal was nearing his breaking point, I fucked him as hard as I could. My hair had fallen all about and was messily in my face as I pounded into him. I reached around his neck and held him almost in a headlock grip. I had released an animal inside myself that had been in hibernation my whole life. In that moment, I could not have stopped fucking Hal. I was out of control. And he loved it. His well-lubed ass pleaded for more, just as he pleaded for more with his mouth. I soaked up his words like my skin would soak up suntan lotion at the beach.

His breathing quickened and his pulse raced through his body. I could tell that he would not be able to control himself much longer. He let out a furiously strained moan and bucked up against me. I held onto him as if I were riding a horse and we were galloping through an open field. It was intense and my thoughts turned momentarily from my own experience. I became distracted by the loudness of Hal’s moans and his hyperbolic struggling. He was like a fish in a net gasping for survival as he reached the climax of what he could handle. In spite of all my efforts to make this experience about him, my harness had been rubbing up against my clit. It had given me a whole new sensation. I became restless and unable to hold back my orgasm.

As he started to come and yelled and gripped at the blanket beneath us, I felt the familiar sensation of release come over me. Unfamiliar, however, was the way in which it happened. It felt as if I were coming through my cock. I felt as though I was ejaculating, just as I’d done with Sam, but that I was doing it on my own. That I was releasing this viscous liquid into my lover like a fertile male was a thought I could not resist. I did not resist anything. I just gave and gave and gave.

We sank into a heap on the bed in the aftermath. My cock came slowly out of him and made a final popping noise when released from his grip. We were sweaty and spent and I was completely in love. It was the most exhilarated exhaustion I’d ever felt. I savoured it like honey.

Hal filled both our glasses with cold water and we gulped thirstily at them. His usually rosy cheeks were an even more flushed scarlet hue and we collapsed on our backs, side by side.

I held my hand up, straightening my arm in the air to admire my ring. He raised his hand to meet mine and stroked it casually.

“Am I a good wife?”

“The best.”

We looked at each other, still breathing heavily, and smiled at the serenity of the situation. There is a kind of gratitude I’ve felt for all lovers who provide me with an incredible orgasm. This moment, however, hinged on an even more profound level of gratitude. Hal had helped me to actualise my inner animal. He had been my obsession, and had allowed me to step into a new gender role for both our sakes. For each of us, our enjoyment hinged on the other’s satisfaction and that was a kind of symbiosis with which I had not been familiar until that moment.

I felt, for the first time in my life…that I had met my match. That Hal and I were able to share this kind of interaction was more than just a bonus.

“Don’t tell Aunt Myrtle,” I teased.

Chapter Fifteen

We went on to fuck each other in all kinds of unimaginable ways. He took my cock regularly and I came easily from penetrating him. I learned how to position my harness even better as time went on, and we became so well versed in our own special language that we forgot all about the codes of what was considered normal sex. He never penetrated me and I didn’t want him to. Whenever the desire for sex came upon us, we each assumed these selves that we could be when we were together.

We were both quite different than we had been in any other context. I believe that is a sign of true intimacy. It isn’t trusting your partner to keep secrets for you, or even to please you or let you please yourself. It’s being able to be unencumbered around that person, and free to express things that have hitherto seemed impossible. In our case, these things were not verbal, but intensely corporeal.

Once in a while, a deep need for an old-fashioned fuck would set in and I’d make an appointment with Simon. Somewhat predictably, the situation between us had become complicated. His love for me was wrapped up in expectations of allegiance. I did not understand how he had the audacity to even consider monogamy with me, but he told me in no uncertain terms that he would always be faithful to me.

I insisted that he sleep around. I argued that I was but one flavour, and that he was a young man, and it was more than natural that he should have urges that I could not fulfil. He disappointed me by investing too much attention in our relationship. His stakes were high. Too high. I had no real interest in the boy. He was a brilliant distraction, beautifully crafted, much like the garments he designed.

Inevitably, his time came and he had to leave Virginia. It wasn’t without regret on my part. I had enjoyed being in his studio whenever I grew bored of Strawberry Hill. He offered the kind of interactions that few men could. He gave me the intellectual satisfaction of a good sparring partner, coupled with the kind of attention that Hal didn’t give me. Hal loved me, I was sure. But Hal and I both shared a streak of belligerence. Neither of us could bow down in the way Simon could. That was why Hal was my partner and why Simon eventually became obsolete.

His submission, the very reason I was initially attracted to him, became too much for me to handle, and so I stopped. I simply stopped. I stopped visiting him. I stopped making appointments and, most importantly, I stopped thinking about him in his absence. He took a job with a prestigious designer in New York City. I was happy for him, as was Hal.

When he left, Simon told me he would keep in touch, but I didn’t believe him and I was proved right. Some things are just meant to be temporary, and I still believe that he benefitted from my tutelage just as I benefitted from his meekness.

I had plenty of others to choose from at Strawberry Hill but, after Simon left, I mostly took to exploring Hal. I also became enamoured with a different kind of luxury—reading. I studied as much as I could. Hal supported me fully. His benefactor conferred property rights on him. The authorities granted him his status and we lived a comfortable, quiet life of mutual understanding. It was the first time in my life that I had had access to the kind of time and money that Hal provided, and it was strange at first. I didn’t know how to pass the days. I stayed fit by running because there was no need to tend to the garden. We had professionals for that. There was no need to cook or clean, as we had full-time employees to do that, too.

Luckily for me, I’d always had a passion for books. I started in Hal’s library, which he had inherited from his benefactor, who was a scholar of the highest status. I didn’t know where to begin, which is the beauty of innocence, and so I just began. After several years, I started to make sense of the order in which it happened. Romantics, Modernists, then Greeks. Finally, contemporary. It just happened that way. It was accidental. But it did follow a symbolic path of my life, allowing me to relive feelings and expressions of my past. I learned to reinterpret my life. I learned to find pleasure in sounds and sights and I learned to open my mind even further than I had ever imagined.

One day, a letter arrived from Kelly. My heart pounded when I saw her name. The return address was a small town in Oregon, which shocked me. Instantly, my feelings for her came rushing back. The intensity of those early days, how different I had been then, how utterly foreign it felt to hear from her.

I opened the envelope and read the purple-penned note. One of her biggest regrets, she wrote, was the way she’d turned me down. It had haunted her, the way it haunts every lesbian who finally makes sense of her whole existence when she meets that one person—that first true love who invites her into the Sapphic embrace. Her explanation made perfect sense and ended with a sincere invitation for me to visit her and Laurel at their goat farm.

I packed a suitcase and booked a flight and, when Hal came home that afternoon, I kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’m going to Oregon.”

“What’s in Oregon?”

“A girl. Kelly.”

“Oooh.” He gave me a flirtatious grin.

“It’s not like that,” I said.

“She’s straight?” He affected a mope.

“Partnered,” I said.

“So are you.” He winked.

“You dirty dog, Hal. She’s just come out to me and wants me to meet her lover.”

“That sounds like fun to me,” he said. We kissed. I flung my arms around him and held him tightly. Everything about Hal was perfect to me.

* * * *

I pulled up to the address less than twenty-four hours after I’d got Kelly’s letter. There were butterflies in my tummy and I could scarcely believe where I was. So rugged and woodsy was this place that it had been nearly impossible to convince a taxi driver to take me. I’d had to promise to give him a massive tip, which was my pleasure. I loved being able to offer more money for services. He pulled up at the end of a driveway that was practically a road—that was how long it was. I opened the door and looked up at the house, a rustic log home, completely different from what I’d imagined. I didn’t know what I had expected, but it hadn’t been this.

“Julie?” I heard Kelly’s voice. “Is that you?”

She came running and threw her arms around me. Her hair smelt divine, her figure pressed up against me and we were as we had been before. She was a true friend.

“Let me get a good look at you,” she pulled back, beaming her beautiful smile at me. She looked so alive, so vibrant.

“Oh, Kelly. I have missed you. I was so glad you wrote.”

“I thought about it long and hard. I wondered if you’d even want to hear from me.”

“Of course I did.”

She pulled my suitcase out of the trunk. I handed a wad of cash to the driver and, before I knew it, we were on her back porch, soaking up the last rays of the day’s sun. A little after dark, Laurel came home, joined us on the patio and kissed the top of Kelly’s head before she extended her hand to me.

“Welcome,” she said. “Kelly’s told me so much about you.”

“Thanks for having me,” I said.

With that, Laurel announced that she’d crack open a special bottle of chardonnay from her friend’s vineyard, one she had been saving for a special occasion. Her eyes were warm and inviting and I could tell that Kelly had found in her the kind of lasting love I’d found with Hal. This observation was a sheer delight. As the wine flowed, so did the conversation. I learned that Laurel and Kelly had also met in San Francisco, that Laurel had also fallen madly and hopelessly in love with Kelly. The difference, it seemed, was that Laurel had known exactly how to communicate her feelings. She’d known what she wanted. It might have helped that they’d met at a coffee shop, not at Kelly’s workplace.

“I was finally ready to face my feelings,” Kelly said. Laurel, who was sitting right beside her, hanging on her every word, put her hand on Kelly’s back and rubbed it. They locked eyes. “I was finally ready to admit something I’d always known but couldn’t accept. And then, almost overnight, my life filled with joy and peace and I knew exactly what I wanted to do, so I cashed in my tokens.”

“And I quit my horrible office job,” Laurel added, making it clear that they’d co-told this story many times before.

Kelly continued, “And we bought this place and now we make cheese. We keep bees, too. I have to take you on a walking tour of the property. There’s a lake down there, too.” She pointed towards what appeared to be a dense forest.

“Amazing,” I said. “To finding happiness.” We clinked glasses. It was a toast I’d wanted to give for a long time.

As the night continued, I felt as though I was in the company of two kindred spirits. I let my guard down completely and it felt great.

“I think I hated men when I was younger,” I confessed. “I resented their power and thought I had to make it in a man’s world.”

“You did,” Kelly said. “Make it, I mean.”

“I love you so much, Kelly. You understand me in ways no one else ever will.”

“I could say the same,” she said.

Laurel got up and went into the house. She re-emerged with a lantern, a basket of towels and three pairs of flip-flops and announced that it was time for me to see the lake.

After a sultry evening of lake swimming, Kelly said she was sincerely looking forward to meeting Hal.

I embraced her lovingly and said, “That’s the nicest thing you could ever tell me.”

“Do you think he’ll like me?” she wanted to know.

“I can’t imagine anyone not liking you, Kelly. Really.”

* * * *

A week later, Laurel and Kelly and I pulled into the driveway at Strawberry Hill on a glorious sunny afternoon. Unsurprisingly, Hal was phenomenal. He came out and greeted us by kissing me and offering a friendly hug to Kelly and Laurel.