[Mallory]

ADAM – Am I Just the Night, or Am I Her Morning

And just like that, our secret reduces to just my own, alone. I sit down for the fifth week, and the bartender looks at me with fringes of pity around his eyes while he pours the red wine into my glass. I ask myself again, how I got here, knowing in actuality so little about her, and yet consumed by this relentless expansion of void because she stopped showing up. When did she become of such consequence for me? As if I really didn’t know. That night she called. When she let me in and I followed her into that closet. That pristine alpha male closet with the puddle of towels on the floor. As soon as I stepped into that closet, I had crossed over to a place where I never thought I’d be. Became someone I would have never imagined: a victim to her heartbeat.

She started to reach down to grab the towels but her body exploded, a thud and slammed against mine and we dropped down onto her puddle. I pulled her close onto my chest. My fingers in that thick mane of hair and other palm on her back. I cocooned her little body, all goose bumpy and clammy cold. “I’m in shock,” she managed to tell me through chattering teeth. I held her jack hammering softness until the heat of her body slowly risen to match mine, her heart slowed, beating in time with mine. Something in her, something singular and precious inside her, insinuated its way through two layers of another man’s cotton, into me. And this feeling, like I have known it since a prior life, a life that was simple and wild, and the nights were long and deep and open to the stars, waiting for the heat of the morning. This feeling, intimate angst, reached into me and expanded beyond and whirled around our bodies.

We were again in the dark universe. This time, not mesmerized, but together, we drifted into private unconsciousness, into our very own darkness and body heat. Unguarded and defenseless with each other through the blackness, until the seeping foggy glimmer of first light. Was I just the not-so-stranger body, or did she gift me her vulnerability. Was I just the convenient Saturday night or did I become her Sunday morning.

[Mallory]

NICOLE – THE KNIFE’S EDGE

Finally, I relaxed my hands and took in a breath for a few seconds longer. Then I clamp the vein, slinging the tie around it, I pull at it.

“Clamp!”

Fisting my hands to steady them, I keep working around the swabs turning red, redder, fast, faster.

“Call for six more bags, NOW.”

No, no, no, no.

“Get the O negative.”

“MORE Celox. Pack them in here!”

“Terry, WIPE,” I turn my face toward him to get the splatter blood from my visor.

“Why are the suctions so fucking loud?” I try clamping more. The hissing of the machines rattling my brain.

The battle continued: more stitches, more swabs, more hands in her abdomen, more blood, more instruments.

More tension.

More failure.

“Bolus her with more adrenaline! Keep it coming, watch the time.” I look up at the numbers dropping, flashing, alarming.

The blood loss relentless, as are my hands in cardiac compression.

She is grey and waxy and all I can see are my hands pushing to pump her heart. The pool of blood expanding while the rest of my team shrink away.

“God damn it, Nicole. Call it. It’s over.”

I can barely hear Jillian over the sound of my breathing. My arms come to a stop as I stare again at the flat line on the monitor.

“Time of death, 17:39,” I declare.

My body becomes rag doll like as Terry pull off my soaked gown to cover my scrubs with a clean one.

“Do you want me to call Alex for you?” he asks.

“No,” I shake my head, “he’s out of the country.”

He looks hard at me, squinted lines around his eyes deepening, before glancing at the door.

“I’ve got it. You get out of here.” I tell him and I walk out to tell the family.

===========================================

“Nic, there you are. Terry texted me about what happened. How are you doing, the truth? Where are you?”

“Hi. I’m gonna fire his ass. I’m okay. I’m in the locker room. I’ll leave for home in a few.”

“I am getting the next flight home.”

“NO, don’t do that. I will be fine. You just landed, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, we’re in a cab, headed to the hotel. I’m coming home, Nic.”

“Sweetheart, I just have to get through the night. You can’t make it; the flight is at least 9 hours.”

“Nic, I am so sorry. This was bad timing for me and Rachel to take this trip.”

“Don’t come home, Alex, just …you guys just have… a good time. For me. I have to go, my car is here.”

“Do whatever you have to do, Nic. Nickie, please.”

In his pleading moment, I could not continue and I push the hang up button.

I curl tightly into the corner of the backseat, my heart racing, rapidly thudding against my chest, body trembling hard and I can’t seem to draw air into my lungs. I wanted to feel the sharp edge of the knife, but not that of a #22 blade into my bronchi. I watch in my mind Alex and Rachel entering the Le Meurice, and the replay of the tie cutting through the wall of the vein, weakened by the infiltrating tumor, initiating the massive hemorrhage.

I think this is the first time I actually accept Charles’ extended hand to help me out of the car and into our building. By his startled look, I think I really gripped him.

“Thanks, Charles, I am not feeling well.” I say softly before getting into the elevator, willing myself to just make it up to our apartment.

Kicking off my Birki’s, I run to the bathroom at another wave of nausea. I picture him leaning Rachel over the hotel vanity. I dry heave into the sink. Tears burn and flood my eyes, I retch again while my stomach wrench violently. Nothing comes up. Nothing left of the breakfast Alex made me 15 hours ago. Breathe, Nicole, breathe.

It is so cold in here. Why is it so cold? After I turn on the hot water to fill the tub, I drag myself to the kitchen to get coconut water and ginger candy. Stripped of the sweat soaked clothes, I lower myself into the tub.

They tell you in medical school, that when you break the news to the family that your patient died, you are supposed to be as straightforward and succinct as possible. The first time I had to do this, my chief came with me. He said I had nerves of steel and that I was going to become a great surgeon because I was an iron pillar and yet I can give the family my humanity. Medical school teaches you to tell them the patient died and be as brief as possible about the facts surrounding the death. They tell you to be compassionate and then malpractice suits teach you to be unapologetic. But nobody teaches about the grieving process for the physician. Nobody told me that the only thing that works is the weight of Alex’s body covering mine, and then I am not alone in my grief. The only thing that works is the sound of his mouth breathing against my ear, and then my crisis heart calms down to pace.

I get out of the cooling water, shivering in the bath sheet. In Alex’s closet, I dig out one of his many black t-shirts from the hamper. I put it on. I dig out a second one and put that on too. As my hand reach at the door knob, I see our bed and I see him in bed with Rachel in Paris. The plan was to give our very young woman a normative romantic experience. The plan was to simultaneously give me a lesson on edge retention of the knife. I retch again and pull the door shut, collapsing onto the bath sheet heap on the floor, wrapped in his t-shirts, surrounded only by the walls of his clothes. Unable to control the shaking or breathing, I reach for my cellphone.

I wake up the next morning gasping so loud it sounded like I screamed. Arms immediately tighten around me from behind. I flip around. Adam captures both my hands and breathes against my face and hair. His warm body presses against mine, he lets go and reaches back with one hand to bring my head onto his chest. His fingers slowly stroking my hair. Stroking. Twisting softly…. brushing it away…….from my cheek….Stroking….. Twisting softly….around his….

[Mallory]

ALEX – EGGS AND BONDS

After I closed the door behind me, I fumble around to hit the light switch. The apartment is dark except for the outside skyline seeping in. I follow the low rumble to find Nic. The rumble and fizzle. She must have candles lit too. I enter the flickering light and step closer to the bubble sizzling sounds of our jacuzzi. I find her there, partially leaning on the deck, her little body floating. She is trembling.

“Nic!” I grab the towel.

She looks up at me then, with that pained, exhausted smile. I ease her up before wrapping the towel around her to get her out. I start drying her off.

“Bad patient day?” I ask, rubbing my thumbs under her eyes.

She just whimpers a little, while her eyes and hair soak through my shirt. I hold her until I feel her skin cooling off, tightening to fight the leaching of her body heat. The creeping vapor drains away from the bathroom. I ease her away slightly, letting the towel fall to put a robe on her.

“Tell me what you need, Nic, “I search her face. No matter how bad it is, what it is, I would absorb it for her. But I am grateful it is not her surgery day today; I am not so good a buffer on those days.

Her eyes, returning, closer. Her mouth, steadier.

“Scrambled eggs?” she says, a wry smile touching her lips.

My heart sighs in quiet relief, and I take her arm into mine and through the dark, we find our way to the kitchen.

“Sure thing. Wanna help Daddy with the eggs?” I tease her.

Nicole hops up onto the kitchen stool while I get a few things from our fridge.

“How about if you get the toast ready, if you want toast. I want one slice.” I tell her while I start cracking the eggs and whipping.

I watch her, through a few side way glances, pop the bread into the toaster then shove her hands under her butt and lean forward. My strong wife, in her state of occasional, no, rare disintegration. I watch her listening to the gentle, rhythmic beat of the silver fork stirring the eggs, mixing in the salt. She leans forward some more, to look at and listen to the butter softly sizzle to slick the small, hot pan. I push the bowl in front of her, with my spatula in hand.

“You can pour it in,” I smile at her, “now.”

I work quickly, non-stop, scraping the bottom and the sides of the skillet. I listen to Nic’s little chuckles at the large curds forming, before I turn the heat down. I carefully start folding the fluffy, billowy curds, and then slide the glossy eggs, shiny and slightly wet, onto our plates.

“I love a man who understands bondage, on a molecular level.”

“Yep,” agreeing with her, “I knew the way to your heart was through your stomach, and your nerdy mind. Or should I say your appetite and dirty mind?”

We eat in quiet. In these times, I love that she eats with her left hand, when I can hold her with one arm and we savor together, the food warming our bodies, our touch reconnecting ourselves.

We make our way to the bedroom not long after we eat. I tug at the bed linens to make sure they are extra tight and smooth when she got in. I press all of me closer to her; my hands caressing her ass. It amazes me that her butt is used to sit at all, given how smooth it is. Like a newborn’s butt. Like it has never known any burden of weight or pressure. Between how her skin glides on my palms, and how the cool silk of her hair slips through my fingers, I have all the peace and calm no amount of opiates can ever produce.

There, I drift off in the darkness; our breathing and body heat wrap us together. Then Nic inhales deeply, a sharp and jolting breath.

“I’ve been seeing someone.”

I hear her but not grasping the message. Her six syllables rewind in my head. I listen again, the meaning of the words, the intended message. Nicole changes the speed by which my blood runs through my body; she always has. It crashes into my head and floods my cock, flashing hard and hot.

“Seeing? Who?” Breathy words explode from me.

Blinded, I move and I’m on top of her, all of her crushed by the fortress of my body.

“Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?” In an instant I’m trying to figure out what happened; my brain is rebooting while my chest breaths rage hot enough to blow out all the windows.

“NO, NO, I am really hurting for the patient I can’t treat,” she says as if to transform words into a balm to soothe my panic.

Her legs find their way to wrap around my back. Her arms wrap around my neck and she looks up into my eyes. Her lashes flicker. I push myself slowly into her until I reach that wanton’s sigh. I fuck her until she stopped rocking her hips, until her release. I hold her until she stopped crying. I listen to her heartbeat until once again, she changes the speed of my blood and I fall asleep.

[Mallory]

ADAM AND NICOLE – DARK ENERGY

There, in our own dark universe, he reached for and kissed me. I kissed him. We kiss and gravitate closer and closer. The galaxies wrapping around us are stretching further and further apart. The deep voice above hums about dark energy, some fundamental force that is accelerating the expansion of the universe, a force powerful enough to shape the course of cosmic destiny. His hand finds mine. My fingers intertwine his. His grip tightens; the force powerful. And I, I must function under Newton’s law; my heart rate accelerating with his forceful hold of my hand.

Back on earth, the normal human lights come on and suddenly we are no longer insulated in the expanding universe. And what the guy said must be true as our bodies pull apart and we adjust ourselves. We look at each other and burst out in chuckles.

“Let’s enjoy gravity,” and he pulls my arm, tucking it around his and once again, I lean into him.

“Your mass feels good,” I smirk at him.

“Enough physics bullshit. Do you have a curfew tonight?”

I dig around my bag and take out my phone to check the time, and messages. Shaking my head, “No, I can spend another hour or so. Do you want to take a walk?”

“Yes, I do,” he says and pulls me a little closer.

Again, we are quiet. Our silence, just the natural undercurrent of the ineffable connection we are feeling to each other. As the darkness starts seeping into the sky, our strides slow down as if we want time to slow down with us.

“Nicole, tell me, tell me a secret.”

“A secret? You mean besides the one we are creating right now?

His legs come to a pause and I come into his arms. I can feel the velvety heat of his breath in my hair and hear the flaring of his nostrils as he cradle the top of my head under his chin.

“I look all very straight and proper, but Adam, I’m not.”

“You’re seeing me, I know you’re not … all… proper.”

“You have no idea.”

“I think I do have an idea. So that doesn’t count as a secret,” he lets out a little teasing laugh.

My hands grip his lapels then. The dark energy finds its way into my mouth and down my throat and into my lungs and I feel it then. Feel it implode inside. My voice expands and words rush out.

“We are trying to get pregnant. And even trying to get pregnant, last night, we had our girlfriend. She had him. I had her. I’m not proper or vanilla or whatever you think I am. I was so hot. We were so hot. I watched him eat her and he had her cradling me and spreading my legs for him. To make a baby, maybe. There. A secret. Dark, dark, dark secret.”

His fingers grip the back of my head and then he yanks me by the hair to stare up into his eyes. His pupils dark and large, like moons eclipsing the sun.

“No, Nicole, not dark. You have an animalistic sexual appetite. I told you it’s not complicated with me. I have a secret too. I do not fantasize about you letting me take you by the hand one day and lead you into my bed. I fantasize about you panting for me to take you and pump you full of my cum in your own bed. I am fully into the anticipation and discovery of just how wild-hearted you are.”

The two of us stand there, breathing hard, our chests heaving, embracing each other. Like we just fucked. Actually, didn’t we?

[Mallory]

ADAM AND NICOLE- IN THE DARK UNIVERSE

And just like that, we have a secret. Nearly every day we exchange a couple of emails. Banter. Teasing. I dare her. She accepts. She challenges me with tasks. And I welcome even more when she steps a little closer and asks a question. And every Thursday afternoon, late in the workday, I show up at the restaurant. She shows up at the restaurant. We have coffee and share an appetizer, and we pretend to catch up. I pretend I didn’t buy new shirts and ties or tried them on in front of the mirror with different suits to make sure they’d look good to her. She pretends she isn’t obsessing about whether or not to wear perfume or lipstick. We pretend we do not show up at the same place, the same time frame. Except today. I finally took care of the check and get up to leave when she rushes in. I look at her while her breathing turns to an almost inaudible sigh.

And I stop pretending I did not know, and so I ask, “Long surgery?”

“How…..” and she pauses, “yes.”

“How did it go?”

“Good.”

“Good. Do you want to stay and have coffee?”

Nicole runs her fingers into her hair, trying to tidy it up. She shakes her head, “No. Not sure I can hold anything down.”

I take her arm and hook it around my arm. My hand on her hand. I suggest, “how about we walk over to the planetarium and see the space show?”

“The space show?” She laughs, at me, I think.

“What? Too nerdy for you? Come on, it’d be fun. We can sit in the dark, look at the dark universe, celebrate the unknown.”

She walks with me and leans her head on my shoulder. How does she do that? I didn’t even know I was empty until she leans in and I am filled.

“I guess I’m not an unknown after all. How did you know?”

“The way you cut that game hen. Then it all made sense to me. Your hands. Does it upset you? ”

“I don’t know what to say. I thought I was very careful not to let on that part of me.”

“You are very careful. It’s me. I had a lot of training in observation and surveillance.”

“I’m a little freaked out right now.”

“Don’t be. Please. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I thought I was very cautious.”

“Oh you exercise extreme caution, I assure you.”

We just walk. We don’t say another word the entire rest of the time. We enter the planetarium and let the narrator’s voice lull us into a state of wonder, all the while the universe unfolds above and around us. I feel her cheek against my shoulder, soft and scorching. The moon, the galaxies and supernovas flash from the beginning of the universe until the present. And when they get to the dark matter and the dark energy, I swallow her into our own dark universe. I kissed her. And I kissed her. I kiss her. And I kiss her. And she kept kissing me back. She kissed me back. And she kisses me back.

[Mallory]

BURNING MIRRORS – NICOLE AND RACHEL

Squinting at the sunlight flooding the tiny studio apartment, Nicole watches Rachel gasp when the last mirror is placed and unwrapped.

Nicole nods in satisfaction, “you can place them differently but this is what Alex and I was thinking when we got them for you. They anchor and define your bedroom space very nicely.”

” I can’t believe you got me into this building. These mirrors are exquisite. They probably cost more than everything I own.” Rachel looks closely at the carved finial and trailing swags.

“Well, it will be perfect having you right here. I can assure you Alex…and I…. will put these mirrors to good use. Come stand in front of this one.” Nicole gestures Rachel over to the Edwardian antique cheval mirror. Standing behind Rachel, she reaches around to play with the buttons on the plain suit jacket before pulling it away from Rachel’s shoulders.

“Why don’t you give this mirror a try? What does it look like when you undress in front of it?”

Rachel stares into the oval beveled dressing mirror, surrounded by ivory and sycamore inlaid. She slips her hands under her cotton shirt, under her bra. Her body shudders, and then slackens. Small cool hands that cup small cool breasts. The mirror image is hypnotic. Beep click click, beep click click click. She turns to the sound with palms covering pinkish brown baroque pearls, large for her tits, full in temptation. She tosses her head back and contemplates at the reflection to Nicole’s camera with large glassy, dark recalcitrant pools.

Watching Rachel triggers a deep, familiar longing in her. Nicole could feel Alex’s lustful, urgent gaze. No dithering, no equivocating, he wants, he craves, he takes. Easing herself down on the bed, she looks and measures, then commands, “Take the rest off, Rachel. Do it so it makes me wet. Do it so it makes him hard.”

Rachel gawks salaciously back at Nicole through the mirror. Her arms reach slowly behind, unbuttoning, unzipping. The skirt cascades down the lace of panties, the silk of stockings. She sees the slight lick of Nicole’s lips, the edge of tongue. Thumbs hook lace, hips wiggle, and panties shimmy down to the ground.

Positioning herself on the bed in view of the second mirror, Nicole extends her legs, running one hand along her thighs, the other through her hair which has streaked all across the bed, all tangled in a web, yet glossy and slippery. Clothes peel off. Creamy skin gleaming in the mirror topped by carved capitals, supported with silvered socket castors.

The blonde temptress prowls onto the bed in a flash; claws yank at dark silky tresses. She hovers over her, gliding fluidly over soft, smooth skin. Forcefully, she yanks Nicole’s head by the hair, mouth opens, head arches back, neck exposes, and then she sinks her mouth onto the throbbing pulse. As Nicole’s hair drips through her fingers, Rachel’s pants vacillate high and low.

Her mouth moves up to gnaw at Nicole’s ear, with a pitch low in gripped control, voice adulterated in jagged stings, “He pets your hair and watches you sleep, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. Like I know you were with him yesterday before he came home to me,” she moans thickly, and moans like she’d tastes blood, all hot and metallic and viscous. She brings Rachel’s hand back into her hair. “Go ahead, feel me, feel what he pets.”

With the one hand petting Nicole’s hair, her other hand grabs Nicole’s hand and pushes it between her legs. Nicole’s fingers find her. And Rachel replies, hard and deliberate, “Yes, go ahead, pet me, pet what he wants.”

Limps wrap around each other. Rolling over and over, each with similar force pressing against the other. Pinning down, pinned down. Wet on wet. Palms gripping faces. Fingers pulling hair. Nails scoring skin. Friction, concordance – deliciously intense flare. The world drains away except for the sunlight flooding the apartment, bouncing off the mirrors and igniting the fire on the bed.

After heart rates lower, the sweat trickles down their backs and between their breasts, free flowing like condensation on beer glasses sweltering at a sports bar. It beads on Rachel’s forehead and drips down her face as Nicole pushes the damp blonde locks from her eyes. Nicole can taste how own salty sweat on Rachel’s shaky and icy cold fingers tracing her lips.

Their faces so close that when Rachel gathered her voice, it is like a slow seductive rub of lips, “Nic…. are we….. okay?”

“Because you cause me ……discomfort?”

“Because it’s scary to reckon with you?”

“Scary is exciting.”

“I’ve never been more excited.”

“Then kiss me, Rachel, kiss me, and do me again.”

[Mallory]

FOG AND SILENCE

She is more and more breathless ascending the altitude to arrive at the 15th floor. Crossing the threshold of 5pi to 4 significant digits, the divide disappears as fingers rush into hair, and delicate silk rubs against the long fibers of Egyptian cotton. Mussed French twist becomes a messier war of falling pins. Tongues duel in mouths, thrust and parry, parry and thrust.

Nicole’s hands find the skin on his collarbone, working to unbutton his shirt. Her eyes come to focus on how Alex’s throat is constricting, his Adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallows hard between his breaths, trying to find his voice, uncertain of the words he wants to come out. The shutter of her eyes snatches at the glimpses of his mouth: the mouth that holds all their years of talk and silence, of tenderness and ferocious lust. In the end, no words are achieved, only the sounds of struggle to breathe, to continue breathing her in while the heat between his shoulder blades burns.

Alex captures her face between his palms. His thumbs tracing her cheekbones before he twists each of her silk covered buttons with his thumb and third finger, deliberate and efficient. He slides himself down to his knees to bury his face against her stomach, Nicole’s hands reach down to whip undone her belt, in order to shove down her pants. His tan skin, his fine silver and black stubble, his full mouth, are everywhere against her navel. His features lost in the scent of incredibly soft skin over sinewed abs; in the distance tunnels, the rumbling of hunger fills his ears. She tastes like a steeping London Fog, all creamy and vanilla, hinting of citrusy bergamot. He meant to be gentle, but instead he gnaws himself inside her with his face, drives himself inside her with his fingers.

Nicole fights her vocal cords but wrestles away her shoes and pants. On the brink, graceless with desire, she bites down to keep silent. But her silence becomes harsher, wilder. Screw, she had chosen. His moans no longer low and shallow, but instead grow deeper and rougher. He meant to be humble, but instead with perfectly filthy words, he commands and the backs of her thighs slams the fronts of his. Alex stoops to wrap one arm around her waist to propel and the other arm around her chest to cup her heart. Nicole reaches back with both hands and all nails to grip his hips, urging his fast and masterful force, demanding him as he is, to burrow in her, piping hot and strong and selfish. His commands morph to pleas. And then, then with sound of his crazy breathing, the smell of his sweat, she turns to crane her neck to see his face. One glimpse of his wild eyes breaks her and claws at her soul. Her cries whiplash out, filling him, filling her. Alex is intoxicated by the fog of her, and Nicole’s heart, however hesitant, is never silent for Alex.

[Mallory]

SCREW

I pull and step through the huge, heavy double doors guarding the entrance to the inner sanctum of the “LoveShackExpressMotel.” I stumble upon someone’s treasure trove of lovingly preserved personal artwork and collection of treasure boxes. The lobby is steeped in multiple layering of Murano glass waterfall pendent lighting and surrounded by bountiful floral display that decorates the space like a wild garden. It takes my breath away. Indeed Alex has chosen to eliminate any risk whatsoever, the need for a second chance to make a first impression. Like a first date, only one chance.

I take some steps toward the stunning quartersawn fiddleback anigre desk that sits several laptops for checking in, and admire the diamond pattern on the desk top designed by creative placement of the straight grain of the wood pieces. And then my eyes drift to the library area, and the context calls me there, where I am at once secluded, in a private, public gathering. I knew. It feels like home. It feels like the world. Books on shelves. I walk along them and bring my head up and down. Then I run my hand along the tops of the books on the shelves leveled at my arm’s height. Yes. There it is.

Nicole (if you are not Nicole, please put this back):

I am on my knees here, 5pi to 4 significant digits, waiting for your forgiveness.

A

Crap. I peek into the envelope. A blur of sultry, tantalizing wisp of man magnetizing exhilaration. Pi is 3.14 what? Okay, calm the fuck down.

3.14 * 5
15.7

So…..1570? Or 1571. Okay.

My heart races, even before my legs accelerate in search for the elevators.

[Mallory]

PROPOSAL FROM ALEX

“Dr. Reegan, this was just hand delivered for you.”

Nicole examines the envelope, relaxing as she recognizes Alex’s handwriting.

Good morning Sweetheart,

I have a proposal. What do you think about instead of “conceiving,” we just
-bang
– fuck
-fornicate
-do the nasty
-make love
-have relations
-screw
-copulate
-get laid
-get busy
-shag
-sleep together

Okay, that’s my first dozen. What you think?

If interested, please text me which one of the dozen you want to do first. I will get us a room at LoveShackExpressMotel for 2-3 hours. You can get there by 1pm? Somewhere in the lobby, I will have hidden an 8×11 envelope with the room number inside, and a present. Your job is to find it, then find me.

[Mallory]

NICOLE AND ADAM: DOCUMENTATION

From: NAR20@gmail.com
To: AP789@gmail.com
Subject: Documentation

All week long, I have been dripping wet. I get up and I dress for you. I await your elegant, seductive words; we banter. I welcome your instructions, your challenges. I want to figure out how to please you. All week long, I’ve been on a high. That rush of new desire, full of mystery, navigating the unexpected, learning the unknown.

Today, my body is swollen with desire and full of heat. I waited until the dusk to dive into the cold blue waters to start my release. I calmed the heat, and now shivering I let the hot steaming shower permeate me. I touched everywhere. I caress myself following your instructions. The fire rages on.

I nearly forget but I managed to record my final release. I closed my eyes and I caressed my breasts. You have seen my breasts; it is what I emailed you earlier in the week. You like them; you like my nipples. I closed my eyes and I touched my breasts for you. I closed my eyes and looked at the three words you wrote by hand. I see the words and I read them over and over again as my hands descend and as my legs start to part. My fingers spread and dip and glisten. My body gushes and tightens and shudders and quakes.

After some time, I click through the pictures. It showed the sexuality, the intensity and the pleasure. It doesn’t capture all the layers but maybe that will be revealed in some other way.

Thank you for all the moments this week.

From: AP789@gmail.com
To: NAR30@gmail.com
Subject: RE: Documentation

Has anyone ever told you how beautifully you write? I read this and I am amazed. Beautiful. Elegant. Sexy. Complex emotions and mind. As I told you earlier this week, there is one thing above all else that pleases me. That is pleasing a woman, a lover. This week, you allowed me that privilege, to please you, to discover you just a very small bit. And your email pleases me more that you may ever know. I hope you enjoyed yourself and the video. I hope you have seen the beauty that is you.

From: NAR20@gmail.com
To: AP789@gmail.com
Subject: RE: RE: Documentation

Thank you.

And thank you for the fun and games. For the past week, your welcomed distractions allowed me to quiet down just a little bit, all the inner turmoil. Yes, I admit it. I might as well. I know you already guessed.

[Mallory]

FUN AND GAMES WITH ADAM

Adam’s arms wraps tight around Nicole. His hands press and cup her breasts. Her hard nipples tighten with tension in his palms. His body wraps the slow melt of hers, two bodies of heat easing into each other.

“I can be very simple for you. Are you up for some fun, Nicole? Will you let me push you, safely?”

“Yes,” she answers, turns slightly to rub the side of her face on him.

“Tell me your deepest, darkest fantasy, one you haven’t told anyone before.”

She chuckles, “oh yeah,sure, let’s start with the easy stuff. I would have had a different answer several months back…Ummm. Okay, I think I would like to experience some kind of polyamorous situation, another woman, another man, something like that. And you? What is on top of your sexual bucket list?”

“Well, I am both a voyeur and a little exhibitionist, as in at a hotel, curtains open, room is dark except for a light off in the distance….leaning up against the window for all the world to see, but only silhouettes, no faces. Would love to do a lot in front of that window. And then catch someone watching. Similarly, in a closet watching. She knows, he doesn’t.”

“Hot. How would you push me? I have to be careful with my fun.”

“Yeah, I got that. You’re very private.”

She almost stops breathing, so she can go still, slowly. He pulls her closer.

“Let me see if I can think on my feet like this, with you all captivated in my arms. Okay, I want five days.”

“Five days? Five days of what?”

“Day one, you will pick out bra and panties you will wear for ME. I want a photo of them, just the lingerie.”

“Um. Okay.”

“Day two, again selecting and wearing lingerie for me, you will go to the bathroom during the workday and rub your pussy over the panties until you’re wet. And you’re not allowed to cum.”

“I can manage that.”

“Day three, you will lose the panties, go home commando. Again, no cumming.”

“Geez”

“Day four, before you go to work, I want you to touch yourself, push a finger in, get it wet and taste yourself for me. You cannot cum.”

“I can’t not cum for that many days like that!”

“Yes, you can. Day five, after you get home, take a long relaxing shower and tease yourself. Pinch your nipples between your fingers, getting them nice and hard, eager…begging to be sucked. While pinching them, reach between your legs and caress your pussy. stroking your lips and clit getting ready for what is about to come. Then get out of the shower. I want you to lie in bed and run your fingers all over your body, starting at your neck and working your way over your nipples, across your belly, over your thighs, inside your thighs and to your pussy. Rub your lips, feel your wetness and spread it over your clit. Use one hand to expose your clit and the other to rub it. Don’t cum. Dip your finger into your pussy, then rub your cum on your erect nipples. Taste yourself. Suck on your finger as if it was my cock.When you are touching your clit, rubbing it and pinching your nipples, I want you to take pictures of yourself. Of your pussy, your clit, your nipples. As you rub yourself to orgasm, of your face. Pictures of your cum covered fingers. As you cum, you must take a picture of your face. After you have calmed down, I want you to look at each picture. To see the beauty that is you. To see what a lover would see. Then when you have a chance, email me a report.”

“A report?? What? Like a blow by blow?” she stammers.

“Yes, you can do it. I bet you understand documentation.”

Adam moves a hand up, caressing Nicole’s throat, fingers thudding at her pulse. Is that what a pounding heart feels like?

[Mallory]

AND THEN THERE IS ADAM, AGAIN

“Hey Nicole, I’m not late, am I?” Leaning down, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Adam! No, I…. I almost walked around the block to kill a few minutes,” she turns around her head quickly to look up at him.

“Anxious to see me, huh?” he slides into the seat next to her.

Nicole lets out a soft, low chuckle. Her lips part, mouth opens slightly, and then her lower lip curls in, teeth silence speech.

He looks and looks at her.

She looks back.

Adam leans in with his face, tells her softly, “We don’t even have to talk. You can just let me look at you.”

He watches her, sees deeply in her eyes. She remembers. She remembers he remembers.

“We can have an appetizer and entree?” with the threat of a giggle in her voice.

“Yes. But NO dessert,” he says in solemn conclusion.

Nicole shakes her head, “No, NO dessert, but…but definitely coffee though.”

“Definitely coffee.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Adam offers his hand as she lowers from the bar stool. They walk to their table. Her hand feels cool and lean in his grasp.

“Did you take the day off and spent it in yoga class?” he observes.

“Oh. No, I worked. Uh, I just got out early,” she pauses before continuing, “but I changed clothes.”

He glances down at her hands.

“Are you still married to Mr. Career?”

“Yes!” with a startled look. Nicole’s torso twists, squirming to find its placement. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated is not complicated for me,” he pauses, “No more questions, let’s order food. How do you feel about sharing a couple of appetizers?”

“That sounds great. How about the roasted red and yellow beet salad?”

“Umm, with Roquefort and tangerine, all of which I like. Yes.” Reading quickly, “and what about the seafood risotto?”

“Yes, I’d love that. And I’ll have the game hen.”

“We are all set,” Adam gives the choices to their waiter.

Silence.

The beet salad is presented; the vibrancy is dotted by shiny, creamy blue veined crumbles. The vivid colors burst sweet, tangy, and earthy in their mouths; the soft buttery texture adding a complexity that lures the palate to carve more. They savor. Silence becomes quiet.

They smile at each other as the second plate is placed, the cover lifts to release a rushing waft of musky, heady. buttery lava into the air. As forkfuls are placed onto salivating tongues, the grains send a warm creamy feeling into their mouths. They relish. Quiet ebbs into calm.

“Two appetizers and we did not talk,” Adam smirks at Nicole.

“And I am even starting on my entree!” Nicole glances up from cutting to see Adam fixated, watching her hands in motion.

They finish their meals with barely any further words. And then coffee is served. He reaches over and takes one of Nicole’s hands into his. His fingers move up her fingers, her palm, her wrist. She feels her pulse in her throat and under his soft grip.

“Nicole, how about I sit on your side, with you, for a little while?”

“Yes,” she holds his gaze and smiles conspiratorially. Adam puts his arm around Nicole as he scoots in next to her. His breath. She can hear it in punctuated bursts. His fire. She can smell the cinders hinting from his skin. She fidgets up close to him, shifting herself until her back rests into and cushioned by his chest, and her arms come around his around her. His arms swathe her. She is cradled.

Calm sinks into ease.

[Mallory]

NICOLE – YOU START SOMETHING

“Terry, my glasses please.” Nicole wrinkles her nose as if to move her glasses back up to her eyes.

She breathes in sharply to maintain control. Her voice stern, “Dr. Sommers, since your thumbs are on your cellphone, see if you can get Plastic to do a subcuticular.”

He straightens up some, making the call, “Dr. Reegan wants someone to do a subcuticular. Who? Dr. Decona?” He looks at Nicole, who nods, after giving him a hard look.

Thirty minutes later, Nicole drags herself out of the family waiting room, and bumps into Jillian Fader, chief of anesthesiology.

“Jillian, I am never to see Sommers in my OR again. Please talk to your boy about excessive cellphone usage in surgery.”

Before Dr Fader even has a chance to pull down her own mask to speak, Nicole turns and disappears into the locker room.

Leaning against the lockers for support, Nicole tries the combination to her lock twice before she is able to unlock it. She digs inside to get her clothes and cellphone. The message light blinks. Four messages.

I’m sorry about last night. Call me after surgery.

Darling, are you still in surgery? Are you ok?

And two are from Rachel.

Hey nic im gonna be in town for job interview next mon

U and alez around? Want to get together?

Thoughts and questions thump painfully in Nicole’s head. Rachel is looking for a job here? Does Alex know that? Of course he knows, how long has he known? He is probably encouraging her to move here. Not that he has discussed this with her; he’s been too busy planning with his… girlfriend. She is just the wife. Nicole’s white knuckled hand slowly places the cellphone back in the locker. Air fills her lungs, drawing more in, pushing down, reigning in the choking rage.

After ten minutes under hot blasting water, Nicole sits down on the shower bench, detaching the shower head to rinse off the rest of the shampoo. The water sprays and trickles down her torso. Then urgency flashed like lighting. She anchors her feet against the wall. Her thighs spread open. Her hips rocking against the jet spray she brings closer and then further and then closer. It shoots up her pussy, unfolds and peels her. It blasts and tickles and sweeps and caresses. Back and forth. In and out. Around and around. It pulsates and it smacks. She holds it steady and fucks the rushing streams and jets. Her cunt drips. Her eyes tear. Teeth marks deep on her forearm to silence the pants and the sobs.

Her hand, now slightly pruney, reaches back in. The cracked fingers and shattered tips grasp at the cellphone. A calm has set in. Now, she can punch out her voice.

I’m out of surgery. Going to get a manicure. Dont hurry.

Kudos on interview. Will check sched with Alex and let you know.

“Dr. Nic, wake up, all done,” Juju gently taps Nicole’s arm.

Nicole stretches in response to the nudging.

“All better now, you bad to yourself Dr Nic. Hands bad.”

Nicole smiles at Juju, “I’ve been doing better.” She examines her cuticles, trimmed, soft, respectable again.

“You use bad soap; do bad things, hands not happy,” she scolds Nicole.

“I will try better, Ju,” giving her a credit card from her wallet, admiring the buffed shine on her nails.

Nicole reopens her wallet again, looking into a memory. It may be a memory but the recall is total. She pulls the card out from the inner flap.

He leans forward, frowning and absorbed by thoughts regarding the analysis on his screen. A cellphone vibrates, then rings. And rings. His eyes dart toward the annoyance. And rings.

“Hello.”

He sits back slowly, eyes wide in astonishment.

“You tell me when and where,” he says quietly, “and I will be there.”

[Mallory]

ALEX – BE EVERYTHING BE ENOUGH

Dragging my suitcase through the door, I was about to yell out for Nic. The darkness reminded me that she has surgery in the morning. I find her fast asleep. After I smooth the covers over her and caress her hair, I move into the bathroom quietly. I yawn, thinking I might as well call it day too. Digging around one of the drawers, I find a new tube of toothpaste. A goofy smirk spreads at the image in the mirror. Maybe Nic won’t mind if I wake her up to let her know I am home.

I quickly shower. Toweling off, I toss the toothpaste box into the little trash can. My hand stops mid-air. Slowly, I pull the towel around me, staring on the little plastic applicators. My heart constricts tight. I gawp like a fish. She’d been alone the last few weeks while I’d been working non-stop. No wonder her texts had been short, not just in response to my own curtness. Almost a year of trying. This grief of no event, no end. I climb naked onto the bed, wrapping myself around her, the barrier of her underwear between us. The barrier of three weeks apart. No, not apart. Silent. Silent because I wanted to be frozen in time, be expectant, still, hopeful.

The heat is surging, rising, and pounding up to my head. I shiver against Nicole’s cool, creamy skin. I loosen my grip, pretending that is the distancing necessary not to hurt her. The amygdala, the amygdala crawls and slithers in me. Sneaking in. My fingers curl. I yank her panties down; she jerks slightly, stretches lyrically. Then my mouth cups her, my tongue darts in and out of her, my lips sucking and biting her clit. A shriek bursts from her lips and Nicole jerks up. Her legs kick my head so hard, half of me nearly fall over the edge of the bed. The top of my head is burning fast and furious, unscrewing, prepared to launch the explosion. The white hot heat takes over my vision. All I see is blinding, white, glare. I’m between her legs; my hands push down hard and spread the long smooth muscles of her thighs wide. Slumber laced cries ring from a distance in my ears. Narrow rubber traction, but I plow further. Legs thrashing at the sides of my legs. I hear my name.

ALEX.

My breath, burning, struggling, hardly making it back into my lungs.

ALex.

Her voice, my name, together a colossal wave about to break over me.

alEXXX.

I hunch my shoulders and duck my head. My insides swirling and tumbling as I go over and the room tip and veer away and I lurch brutally forward and into her.

allllex.

Her whole body clenches me.

ALllllexxx.

Everything, everything, everything. All of me, rushing in for her.

I want to be enough.

[Mallory]

WELCOME TO ALEX’S CAREER

Staring into the glow of the candle lights, I realized how early it gets dark now. I doubt it is even five yet. Closing my eyes, I inhale the lavender scent steaming from the hot bath water. I stretch a little, letting the heat and water jets soften my aching limbs. I don’t think I’m even going to have dinner tonight. I could just curl up in bed and have the TV on for company. I go over our fight in my head. I want the anger back. I grit my teeth at my failure to do so.

The text message sounds off on my phone. When did I start holding my breath? I am gasping to fill my lungs. Thinking hard, focusing, and moving deliberately, not to get dizzy, black out, and fall. Caution. Caution. I step out of our huge tub, carefully gripping, before wrapping the big towel around me. I pump some lotion into my hand, smoothing it over my neck. I look into my eyes. Make him wait. Yeah, but his waiting is nothing like me hurting. I can’t breathe waiting for him. Tossing the lotion aside, I run.

It is not him.

Hey Nic watsup

Hi not much. How are you?

Im good is Alex ok

Yes why

Dunno. Havent heard from him … like a week

He’s away, busy

Oh

He told you, didnt he?

Yeah but we txt…. then like nuthin…. like 1 word

He’s okay Rach. He’s busy with work.

Hes ignorin me
Is it over

No of course not.
Welcome to Alex’s career

He like this with u?

Yes
It’s not you.
He is consumed.
I sigh and pause.
We had a fight so I guess he’s not talking much

Oh…..what u fight abt

Nothing. I needed him and he kinda made me feel whiney and wifey

Im sorry u wanna talk

Not really.
Maybe I was needy. I dont know what happened.
Then we were fighting.
pause
pause
I wanted to tell him I got my period.

OH

Yeah

[Author]

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