The Spice of Life (The Transformation #1) (13 page)

He was actually the first guy who ever turned down Nina.  She tried her best, but he had eyes for someone else: ME!  He would often come up to me at the games, flirting and joking around, picking me up in the air or slipping his arm around my waist.  Once he even slapped my ass as I walked by.  I pretended to be shocked and offended, but secretly I was flattered.

Prom time rolled around, and one day Paul approached me as I was leaving school.

“Hey, Kells,” he said leaning against a locker.  I could smell his cologne; it was something musky.

“Hi there, Paul.”

He didn't waste any time. “So, do you have a date to the prom?” Paul was always like that.  Direct.  Straight to the point.

“Uh, no. Why?”

“Because I’m going to take you.” He grinned, almost suggestively.

I was a little bit flustered. “Um, OK!” I smiled up at him.  He tipped my chin up and brought his face close to mine.  Just for a few seconds.  Then he turned and walked away without a word.

I was thrilled.  I was headed to the prom with the football captain! Little did I know that would change my life forever…

Prom night finally arrived. I had never felt more beautiful or excited as I left the house. My dress was a shimmery, blue, off-the-shoulder number, and I had pinned matching flowers in my auburn ringlets. I paid more attention to my make-up than ever before, smoothing on shimmery blue shadow and pink lip gloss.

When Paul picked me up, he gave me a quick look over, and then waved me into his car. Before we had even gone a block, he handed me an open beer.

“Paul…I…won’t we get in trouble?”

“Don’t worry about it, hun. Tonight we’re gonna party!”

I don’t remember all that much about the actual dance. I know that Paul and I did dance together, but what I remember most is the number of drinks that he brought me. There were chaperons, but Paul had a big plastic bottle full of vodka that he had snuck in, and he kept adding it to the punch. I had never really been drunk before so it really snuck up on me. Before I could slow down, the room was spinning and I could only remember portions of the conversations I had with people.

Before I knew it the night was over. I wasn't really aware of what was going on, but I remember that Paul came up to me and grabbed me around the waist from behind, nuzzling my neck.

“C’mon, babe…let’s go out to the car.”

The memory of what followed is blurry even to this day. That night, while I was almost too drunk to stand, Paul took my virginity in the back of his Thunderbird. I remember a sharp stabbing pain and that he was rough with me. I know now that his roughness was due to his own level of inexperience, not because of any malice. It was almost date rape, but not quite, because I do remember petting heavily with Paul in the car and then him asking me, “Wanna do it?”

I answered, “Yes.” Although in retrospect I didn't really know what I was doing, I did know that I genuinely liked Paul. He was handsome, popular, strong…all the qualities that appealed to me.  I do remember the sex being somewhat mechanical, very robotic.  I thought it was me, just being drunk and silly, but throughout our marriage, he as always that way.

Afterwards, Paul drove me home, gave me a kiss goodnight and left.

We “went steady” after that. Sex with Paul was a huge disappointment to me, though, and it didn't improve much after the first time. He would thrust into me a few times, roughly, then cum within a few minutes. It was very, very mechanical. All the dreams I’d had as a young girl about romance and tenderness began to disappear.

I would have broken things off with Paul sooner, but a few weeks after prom I realized that I had missed my period and a test revealed that I was pregnant. When I told Paul he was white-faced with fury, but to his credit, he told me that he would support me and the baby if I decided to keep it.  I did want to keep the baby, but our parents put a lot of pressure on both of us to NOT get married, but to seek an abortion instead. We talked about it, and decided to keep the baby as my parents were very strict religiously, but Paul's parents disowned him and me.  So six months after prom, we tied the knot in a little ceremony in front of the justice of the peace. Three months later, our first beautiful daughter, Kaitlyn, was born.

Those early years were rough; Paul and I both had to delay college in order to seek out a living. Paul worked nights as janitor and days as a line cook, while we continued to try and save money. My parents helped me watch the baby, and helped pay my way through college, as it was obvious I would be the bread winner in our marriage. Eventually things did get better, but I’m not sure that he ever really forgave me for getting pregnant.

And the sex? Nothing much ever changed there. Paul and I had rushed through the wedding due to my pregnancy; I remember it like it was yesterday. A woman’s wedding day is supposed to feel special and exciting, but there was none of that for me.

Paul was also beginning to show his true colors; he spoke harshly to me many times throughout the wedding-planning process and seemed to have no interest whatsoever in anything that I suggested. I was devastated. Deep down, I knew that this was the real him. Being so young, though, I didn't feel that I had any other option but to marry him, especially with the pressure coming from our parents.

In any case, the wedding day itself passed in a blur. I remember walking up the aisle to Paul and instead of feeling happiness, feeling a heavy knot in the pit of my stomach. I remember my family members looking at me condescendingly and staring at my stomach. It was not a day of joy; it was a day of faint humiliation.

However, my family had grouped together and decided that we needed to have a honeymoon. They decided to send us on a week-long cruise to Antigua, in the Caribbean. I felt like the time together would bring Paul and me closer; how could it not? We were going to have a family together, after all.

The night before the cruise started we spent our wedding night in a hotel. Even though we had a shotgun wedding prior, I still wanted the experience to be special. So I bought some beautiful white lingerie and set up candles all around the room along with a bottle of wine for us.

Like much of what would follow in our marriage, it was a huge disappointment. We arrived at the room late in the evening, and both of us were exhausted. But I gathered up my strength and asked Paul to take a shower. My plan was to set up the room while he was there.

Paul agreed. He went into the bathroom and shut the door. However, as he walked in, I noticed that he was carrying something. It looked like a magazine. He was holding it in a strange way, almost as if he were hiding it from me. After he closed the door to the bathroom, I heard the water start running.

My head was spinning.
What the fuck did he take to the bathroom with him?
I had a crazy, nagging suspicion that I knew, but I couldn’t accept it.

The water continued to run, a steady uninterrupted stream. I intuited that he hadn't even gotten into the shower yet. Finally, I couldn't take the curiosity and suspicion anymore.

“Paul, honey? Sorry, but I need to grab something quickly.” Before he had a chance to answer I opened the bathroom door quickly.

There was my husband of just a few hours, sitting on the toilet. He was holding his swollen dick in his hand, stroking it rapidly. The strained, flushed expression on his face made it obvious that he was only a short time away from cumming.  In his other hand was a porn magazine. My new husband wasn't getting ready for our wedding night; he was jerking off to porn!

I was completely shocked and simply slammed the door shut.
What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?

I stumbled to the bed and sat there, staring down at my hands.
So much for our wedding night.
Paul hadn't even stopped when he saw my look of horror; he just kept going. This was the man I had married.

There was something else that was niggling at my mind. That porn mag…why did he need that?

The next day, we began our cruise.

Paul and I hardly spoke the day after I caught him with his pants around his ankles. I had sobbed quietly to myself, alone in bed, and then pretended to be asleep when he finally came out of the bathroom. He didn't say a word to me or touch me; he just crawled into the other side of the bed and was snoring within minutes.

I was feeling nauseated because of the pregnancy and immediately knew that being on a ship wasn't going to help any. I spent the first day or two in the cabin, heaving. That didn't stop Paul, though. He was out basking in the sunshine next to the pool, sipping on cocktails all day long.

When he did finally come back to the cabin, he started telling me all about some new friends he had met.

“Kelli, you gotta meet Steve and Lauren,” he said.  “They’re incredible. We’re having so much fun. Wanna join us for dinner tonight?”

I didn't, but I was sick of sitting around feeling ill, so I agreed to venture out.

Lauren was a sleek blonde, with bright blue eyes and breasts that were obviously not her natural size. They were gigantic. I disliked her immediately. It wasn't her looks – I wasn't that shallow – it was the way she moved, like every gesture was a calculated seduction. I also didn't like the way she fawned all over Paul. I could tell right away that she was going to be trouble.

Her husband, Steve, was not much better. He was slick and smooth, with the classic personality of a politician. He started flattering me the second he met me.

“Oh, Paul didn't tell us you were hot,” he commented, while holding my hand for just a little too long.

“Oh? How surprising.” I tried to sound cool and distant.

Just then Lauren sidled up next to me. “No, he sure didn't,” she giggled, as she laid her hand on my arm. I was startled at the familiarity.

Steve laughed, and then murmured something in Lauren’s ear. I couldn't quite hear what it was.

I didn't feel very comfortable, physically or emotionally. Paul seemed unnaturally close with this couple, somehow.
What is going on?

As the evening progressed, all three of them drank heavily. Obviously, I stuck to soda water with lemon. Being sober, I could see how things were progressing. Lauren laughed, batted her eyelashes, and flipped her hair back and forth over her shoulder constantly.  She was wearing a strapless top, and as the night went on, it slipped farther and farther down showing most of her cleavage. It was also obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra; her nipples were clearly outlined. I could tell from how both men looked at her that she was arousing them. At one point, she placed her hand on Paul’s knee.  She leaned in close to him, talking in a low tone while her hair fell forward and hid them both from view. I could see Paul’s erection, his cock stiffening, and the sight made me feel sick again.

I was about to excuse myself when I looked up and saw Steve staring at me. He was smiling, and there was an invitation in his smile. When I met his eye he turned, looked at Lauren’s hand stroking Paul’s leg, and then back to me. I didn't know what was happening, or didn't want to admit it to myself.

“Excuse me, I’m…I’m really not feeling well. I’m going to go back to the cabin.”

I stood up and waited for a moment. Steve kept staring, and then he finally looked away with a bored expression. As for Paul? He didn't even look up or notice I was gone.

I went back to the cabin and cried into my pillow again. Paul did come home that night, but not until 4am.

The next night he didn't come home at all. When I confronted Paul about not coming home to our cabin, he was hostile and defensive.

“I was out with Steve and Lauren, hon. We were just having fun and ended up staying at the bar until 5 or 6.”

“5 or 6? It’s 11am and you just got here ten minutes ago.”

“Jesus, Kelli! Do I seriously have to explain every little thing to you? Their cabin was a million miles closer than ours is to the bar, so they let me crash on their floor. I was too smashed to know the difference. Probably wouldn’t have even made it here without passing out.”

“Great, Paul. Just great. Thank you so much.”

With that, I stormed out of the cabin and blindly rushed down the hallway. I was trying to hold it together and avoid bursting into tears, but I couldn’t keep the flood from coming. I just needed fresh air. I found my way out onto a balcony that looked over the sea, and then let myself dissolve into sobs.
What was I thinking? Why did I think that this would be OK?
I knew that Paul wasn’t the greatest guy; I always had.
Why did I let our parents talk us into this marriage? How am I going to survive it?
All of these questions and feelings and more rushed through my head.

I looked at the blue, blue sea stretching out in the wake of the cruise ship. It looked so peaceful, so inviting. For one brief second, I saw myself climbing onto the railing, and then just letting go, floating down to the water and then drifting away.

In that moment, there was one thing that pulled me back down to earth and kept me from going any further: my baby. A kick in my belly pulled my thoughts back from the water. It was the first time I felt my daughter move, and I couldn’t believe it. I gasped with delight and cupped my hands around my stomach. I had a reason to live.