Read Ch. 4 by clicking here
Chapter 5
Elle sat on her
bed, her laptop open in front of her. It was now almost two in the afternoon,
and Mandy dropped her off a few minutes ago. They’d gotten back to Rich and
Mandy’s house in Villa Park about three in the
morning, and after a hot shower to wipe off the grime from the weekend, she
slept like a corpse in their guest room until noon. When she managed to pull
herself out of bed, in need of some breakfast or lunch or whatever, she found
Mandy lounged in front of the TV in the living room.
“Hungry?” Mandy
asked.
“Yeah.”
“Want to help me
whip up some pancakes and eggs? All I’ve had so far today is a small slice of
melon when Rich left for work.”
“I thought he wasn’t
going in today. And he didn’t need you?” Mandy was Rich’s assistant at Sullivan
Advertising, much like Mom was Dad’s. This way they got to see each other that
much more, and Dad and Rich had valued assistants they trusted more than
anyone. Dad often quipped that Mom, and now Mandy, knew more about the company
than he and Rich put together, and ran it better. Mom had originally been
Grandpa George’s assistant, and that’s how they met, back when Mom had been
married to Elle’s real father, the one she knew nothing about, and had never
inquired. The way Mom’s face screwed up in anger or hate or whatever when she
mentioned him proved she was lucky to have never met the man who had donated
his sperm to make her. Anyway, Mom married Matt, her real dad as far as she was
concerned, when she was four.
“He went in late
and is leaving early. There’s a project coming up he wants to check in on. I
told him I wasn’t going in today, and if he insisted, I’d take a sick day.”
“You go, girl. Don’t
let the man push you around.”
“And the fact that ‘the
man’ is my husband who I have wrapped around my little finger makes it all the
easier to not let him push me around.”
They both laughed,
and Mandy pulled the ingredients for their mini-feast out onto the counter. “Do
you want to take care of the pancakes or go on scrambled egg duty?”
“Eggs,” Elle said. “Do
you have any hot sauce? I saw one of the chef’s on the food channel do it, and
I want to try.”
“Practice for when
Tim keeps you over for breakfast?” Elle heard the grin in Mandy’s voice when
she said it.
“Oh my god, shut
up! Besides, don’t jinx anything.”
“By the way you two
eye-fucked each other all weekend, and made out last night while we packed, I’d
say there’s no need to worry about any jinx.”
Elle felt her face
explode. “Seriously, shut up!”
Mandy came up
behind her and gave her a hug. “Teasing, not teasing. But do you want to talk
about it? Might be best now when Rich isn’t around. You know how he gets.”
“No. I sort of want
to work it all through my head first. I’m not sure what happened.” She felt her
face flush again. God, when did I become
such a blusher? “Except I’m aching to see him again.”
“I’d be shocked if
you weren’t. Anyway, there’s hot sauce in the fridge. And if you do want to
talk, now or anytime in the future, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks. I might,
but not yet. Besides, what are Mom and Dad going to say? He’s way older than
me.”
Mandy snorted. “Might
be hypocritical of them to say anything.” Dad was eleven years older than Mom,
while Tim had ten years on her. “Besides, I got nothing but total good guy
vibes from him all weekend. And you seemed to react to him better than with
anyone else. Ever.”
Elle groaned. “Seriously,
I’m not ready to talk about this. I don’t even know what’s going on in my own
mind.”
“Best reason to
talk it through, but I’ll respect your wishes. Now get started on those eggs, I’m
starving.”
The conversation
moved to more comfortable territory, though he never left her thoughts. That
was both annoying and the best thing ever. Well, the best thing ever would have
been if he was here, but it was a close second. Mandy drove her home not long
after they finished their brunch, and now she sat in front of her laptop. She
should hit the university website to click on her classes and see what she
missed today, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Everything Tim dominated her brain.
She could text him,
or better yet, call. Her excuse would be wanting to make sure he made it home
safe. No, she needed to wait. Don’t come
on too greedy, too strong, girl, she scolded herself. Let him make the
first move. Or at least give him the chance to. If he didn’t get in touch in
the next hour or two, she’d text him. He had, after all, extended to her a free
invitation to do so at any time, right?
Before she knew it,
YouTube sat open on her laptop’s browser, and her fingers took over, typing “Moth
Man Wade” into the search bar. A host of videos popped up, most previews for
lessons for his online Moth
Man Shred
School. She wanted to
watch some of those, not because she cared about the lessons, but so she could
see him, hear his voice. Instead, a bunch of videos of his guitar solos from
his Splitting Braincells days caught her attention. She found a 30-minute
compilation and clicked on it.
Okay, she liked
heavy metal and hard rock before, but this weekend gave her a new appreciation.
She found she enjoyed most of the bands, both Saturday and Sunday, even the
super heavy ones where the lead singer growled more than sang. She hadn’t paid
much attention to the Friday bands, and now wished she had; everything had been
sensory overload at that point. Splitting Braincells had been her favorite,
aside, of course, from Crushed Edges. Tim explained so much during Splitting
Braincells’ set, pointing out songs he had originally performed and helped
write. She loved that part. Now, as she watched him shirtless on stage, wailing
away on his guitar, her age, maybe a year older, the music went straight to her
girlie parts. She moved her hand under her sweats and panties to pet her kitty.
She gasped, and it
wasn’t from the touch of her fingertips against her sex. When did she ever do
this? Yes, she had rubbed herself before, but it had always been simple stress
relief or a sleep aid. As she moaned at her fingertips moving through her folds
and pausing on top of her little pearl, the video continued in front of her.
She imagined Tim rubbing in time with his blistering solo, moving his fingers
lightning quick against her kitty, and then backing off a bit, rubbing
different areas of her girlie parts. She also admonished herself. He was a
grown man, mature. Her saying girlie parts or kitty for her vagina wouldn’t
amuse him. Would it? Maybe he’d find it cute. With that thought, a sharp
orgasm, bigger than anything she’d ever felt before, even when she had actual
sex with Harris, washed over her. She screwed her eyes shut tight and let Tim’s
beautiful licks and chords engulf her senses, heighten her feelings. She let
out a cry, thankful Mom and Dad were at work, though she wouldn’t be doing this
if they were home. Maybe. Her door did
have a lock, after all.
A lightheadedness
washed over her. She rubbed her slit and pearl a couple more times, and then
dragged her hand out of her pants. Oh, shit, despite the 8 hours of sleep she
got this morning, she felt bashed. She hugged herself, a sudden wish that Tim
could be here to wrap his arms around her, a wish that he’d been the one to
give her the blistering orgasm, either with his hands or his thing…his cock.
Another delightful convulsion shuddered through her at the thought of him, his
male organ. She felt it push at her through his jeans last night when he hugged
her tight, kissed her.
She avoided any
sort of relationship after Harris. Their relationship, or should-have-been
break-up, soured the last couple months of high school. In March of their
senior year—St. Patrick’s Day after they shared a green beer—a condom broke
inside her. She’d been on edge for a couple of weeks, and when her period came
late, her life went into a tail-spin. Honestly, though, that wasn’t so unusual
back then. Until she went on birth control, her cycle had never been anything
close to regular. Everyone noticed her changed mood, but how could they not?
Rich said it best. She loved his description of her, how he called her bratty
with a side of bitch ever since she was 10 years old, but in that dark time,
she became bitchy with extra bitch. Yeah, she couldn’t deny it. It wasn’t until
Mom burst into her room while she sobbed into her pillow that it came out she
knew she was pregnant. She’d taken a drug store pregnancy test and though the
result was hard to read, it looked like it pointed towards positive. Mom held
her as she spilled the whole story, and, of course, like always, she made her
feel better. Pregnancy tests weren’t always accurate, to say nothing of the
fact that this one hadn’t been clear in the first place; her periods often
proved unpredictable, with this one only being a couple of days late; and her
body didn’t feel any different other than from the severe stress she’d put
herself through thinking about it. There was a better than average chance she
wasn’t pregnant, but if she was, she, Dad, Rich, and Mandy, who’d been engaged
to Rich then, would be there for her. That got Elle to cry her hardest tears of
those couple of weeks, but they were of gratitude, not fear. The released
stress must've nudged her hormones along, as her period started during the
night. Bitchy with extra bitch took a backseat to happy with a side of ecstatic
for a few days until life shifted back to normal.
Anyway, Harris
didn't speak to her through the entire ordeal, though most of it, she supposed,
could be blamed on her after she almost tore his head off near the beginning of
the scare. Even afterward, when they reconciled, nothing had been the same.
Neither would pull the plug, afraid to leave the comfortable sameness, even if
it no longer held any comfort. And though sex hadn’t been an every weekend
thing by any stretch of the imagination, their one time—the night after
graduation—in those final few months could still be considered a dry spell. It
had proved there was no longer any love between them, if there had ever been
any in the first place. Thank god he chose to attend Stanford rather than a
local school like her.
Now she avoided any
sort of relationship. It didn’t help—or hurt, she supposed, went more in line
with her point of view—that most guys at school were kind of douchey. Okay,
yes, that might be unfair, as she took that vantage point from the guys who hit
on her. She was sure, as Bri told her more than once, she could find a good guy
if she looked for one. But therein lied the problem; she didn’t want to. When
she did meet someone who held her same interests, she never felt a spark, not
even enough to go on a simple coffee date to the campus Starbucks between
classes. It wasn’t until…
“Tim,” she
whispered into her empty room. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed
the video still playing. He really had been exquisite. Part of her wanted to
feel sad that he loved playing the guitar so much but couldn’t do it anymore,
at least like in this video. Her lust, her jubilation over her orgasmic high,
though, pushed the thought away. For now she needed him, and this, his video,
her fingers, would be as close as she could get until Saturday. Her hand rested
on her stomach and inched down. This would be a record; she’d never masturbated
twice in one day before. Maybe never more than once in an entire month.
As soon as her hand
reached the waistband of her sweats, her phone’s text message alert chimed,
getting her to jump. She sat up and reached for it, as it lay next to her
laptop. A smile took over when she saw it was Tim, and also felt her face
flush. Had he known she planned to touch her girlie parts again thinking about
him? No, she was being silly. How could he? But they did feel so connected…
His text instead
had a bland but happy message. He made it home safe, and had already unpacked
the RV. He also hoped she made it home okay. Her smile threatened to split her
face. He’s thinking about me! How awesome
is that?
Her thumbs flew
across the digital keyboard on her phone. “Glad you are safe. I slept at Rich
and Mandy’s. Home now and playing on laptop. Need to homework soon.”
There. Would he say
anything more? If so, would it be in a way that engaged further conversation?
Her eyes didn’t leave her iPhone’s screen, and he rewarded her seconds later.
“Glad to hear. Did
you miss much in your classes today? I’m already pining for Saturday, by the
way.”
“Oh my god,” she
squealed, and her thumbs again moved in a blur.
“ME, TOO!!! ALREADY
HUNGRY!!!” She giggled, as she didn’t mean for food. How would he reply? Would
he pick up on her subtext?
He played it safe,
though his reply still got a smile from of her.
“Saturday is a long
ways away. Hope you plan to eat something in between.”
She sent first a
winking smiley, and then said, “Don’t know about missed school yet. Haven’t
logged onto website. Got distracted by Moth Man YouTube vids.”
“Haha. That young
guy could shred, that’s for sure.”
“Do you miss it?”
They hadn’t discussed his past other than in superficial ways, so she had no
clue. He had to, didn’t he? He wouldn’t have been there watching the Splitting
Braincells’ set if he didn’t. Or could he watch because he was over it? Really,
though, she hoped her text hadn’t ruined their conversation. Ugh, Elle, even your thumbs have no filter.
His text came not
long after. “Yes and no. A better conversation/explanation in person than
through text. Will answer on Saturday during breakfast. Promise.”
She put her hands
to her mouth and squealed. Oh, he was good. It was a better answer than she
could have hoped for. “Will hold you to that.” Then, before he replied,
inspiration struck. “Parents going to fundraiser Wednesday night. I hate eating
alone. Join me?” She held her breath waiting for a reply, and when she saw it,
her entire world deflated.
“Will get back to
you later in the week about time and place for Saturday.” Seconds later,
though, her head shot back into the stratosphere. “Sorry, got your Wednesday
text as I sent the weekend one. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you
Wednesday.”
“Great! I can’t
wait!” And she meant it with all her heart.
“Me, too!” He also
added both the smiling face wearing sunglasses and the winking one. Oh my god, that’s too cute!
Her hand flew to
her lips, as the memory of their kiss last night hit her. Would they do that
again? A lot? Oh, goodness, she hoped so. In fact, she’d do everything in her
powers to make it happen.
His next text
brought a small pang of sadness, but also got her to grin. “Need to head into
work for a little bit, so dropping out of our convo for now. Not ignoring you
on purpose, promise.”
She texted him a
sad face, but followed it with a winking one with the words, “Text when you
finish?”
“Try and stop me.
Until then, my princess.”
Holy fuck!
She reached behind for her pillow and mashed it to her face as she screamed her
exuberant joy. She was his princess. YES!
