19. Better person

He sits opposite of me. At the kitchen table.

He wants to talk. To get to know each other.

"I thought it time to finally get to know each other a bit first." Is what he said.

I am rather angry, actually. I want to kick him out. But my time is precious with him. Always too short. So I sit. And we talk.

"Why don't you come and live with me."

"What?"

"I always have to come to you. Come live with me now your children no longer live with you. Apple will go to university soon and your son lives with his dad now. Tour with me."

"That's just crazy!"

"It can be done. She won't mind."
"Your wife won't mind?!"

I look at him as if he has completely lost his mind. And I am about to lose mine.

"Will you do it for Apple?" He gives me a cute look. I laugh. I scorn.

"Apple is almost grown up now. Use another bait."

"For me?" He does the pouting bunny on me. It almost works.

"Listen to me, funny guy," I say, "you said you want to get to know me. But you do know me. And you should know I will never say yes.

I'm old fashioned. Much more than you. I can not share. You are a better person than I am. And probably your wife is too.

So no. This role, as the other woman, befits me perfectly. I will not come with you and you should go back. Always. You can not stay.

Only promise me one thing. That you'll always return."

He stands up and crouches next to me. His head in my lap. I stroke his wonderful hair. It is getting a bit longer again. I like that. I bow over him and breath in his familiar smell, his salty breeze.

"Please, just let me..." He mumbles. And at that moment the doorbell goes.

I walk to the door and open it. A tall, dark and handsome young man bents over me and gives me a kiss on my mouth.

"Hi babe," he says and walks past me. "Came to see how you're doing since I haven't seen you in a while."

It is Nicolas.

Nicolas embraces me and tries to kiss me, but I turn away my face. His kiss lands in my neck, and his lips linger there.

"You smell lovely." He says. And looks up when he sees my other visitor standing in the hallway.

"Wow, you never told me!" He exclaims enthusiastic. Paces towards my love with his arm around me. Possessive.

"How are you, sir, I'm a great fan." Shaking his hand.

"Thank you." My love says with his low voice. A strange look on his face, grumpy and shy.

"And you are?" Looking from me to Nicolas, who is still holding me.

"This is Nicolas," I say while I push the taller man to the door, "who just came to say hello. Right, Nicolas?"

"Hey babe, I...eh...sure! Call me?" As I close the door behind him.

When I return, my lion still stands in the hallway. Looking pensive.

"Who was that?" he asks.

"Oh just some guy." I say. "Shall we have a bite? Or are you not hungry?"

"Oh. I'm hungry alright." He grabs my hand. Draws me against him.

"Some guy, huh? Who is he?" He forces his lips on mine. His tongue pushing them apart.

"Is he your lover?" His hands are kneading my back, stroking my buttocks. I can not help but kiss him back.

"Is he good?" He rubs his crotch against me. It is swelling.
He caresses my breast, circling the nipple with his thumb.

"Does he make you moan?" His hand is under my dress, stroking between my legs, making my panties wet.

I open his pants and touch his full grown shaft. Firmly I grab it. He is so hard.
"Does he make you beg?" He draws aside my panties and moves his penis in my slit. I whimper.

He thrusts. His legs between mine, his hands around my waist. Supporting me, while I receive. We almost tumble on the floor. Moving, banging each other. On the carpet. Rough strokes. Wild. Primitive.

"Does he make you scream when you come?" He groans.

I arch my back, collect every strike he gives. I pant. I put my nails in his back. I heave. I scream.

And he roars. My lion.

"I am sorry." He holds me in his arms, while we spoon, on the floor. He kisses me softly on the back of my head.

"I guess I am not the better person you think I am."

I roll over. Kiss him on his nose.

"You are the best possible person." I say. Looking him in the eyes. His precious ocean blue eyes. I stroke his bearded chin and continue.

"Let us go back to our separate lives. We are one. Here." I touch my heart as he once did.

"Don't be jealous. My heart is occupied. By you and the children. But I need warmth sometimes. To share my bed. I am just a human being."

He nods. And sighs.
Then he takes me in his arms and helps me get up.

"Let's have a bite. I'm starving."

We are sitting at the table again. Just shared a delicious pizza tartufo bianco and a good glass of Italian wine.

He is preparing his performance for the coming tour. Scratches in this notebook of his.

"Can you translate my lines?"

And after I did. "Now pronounce them for me."

I speak the words in my own language. He tries and tastes the words. I say them again.

He looks intently at my mouth as I do. Puts his hand under my chin and pulls me towards him. Kisses my lips warmly.

I stand up. Take his hands and urge him to follow me. To my bedroom.

When he enters me I feel whole again. He is my other halve. Like some mythological being we are one.

As our breathing goes deeper our moves become slower. Almost not moving at all. Only that feeling of him on top of me. His moans against my mouth, his hands around my face. Oh, how I love him.

The following day he has to leave. We embrace for the last time and then he turns around and walks away.

Bye my elf. Fare you well.

18. Insecure

Within a view days I will see my daughter again. She's been with her father and his family for a while, because she finished high school. And he and his band will tour in Europe.  So she'll come back with him and visit her poor lonely mom. Next semester, when summer ends, she will go to University. She chose to study in the States. Smart girl. But I will miss her dreadfully. As I do now.
Her father -my lover- he and I never made promises, but I'm pretty sure I will see him this summer. Only, don't know where, don't know when. I can never get used to that, but the benefits for this insecurity are so high. It is a prize I am willing to pay. The thought of seeing him again makes me glow with expectation.

I'm so nervous.  I've got to stay busy or I'll explode. The roof on a shed in my garden is leaking. So I'm thinking I might fix it. I bought some tar, I bought some bitumen roof covering and I borrowed a burner. I can do this. I'm sure I can.

While I put the ladder against the shed and am about the climb it -roll of material under one arm- I hear a voice behind me.

"Hey love, whatcha  doing?"

I drop everything, turn around and there he is.

That smile on his face, that stupid American baseball hat, t-shirt full of memento I know nothing about, shorts showing his cute skinny legs and above all his eyes -his beautiful ocean blue eyes now with crowsfeet, fanning out like beams of the sun. The prove of his happy live. I yell his name and run towards him. Jump in his arms. He roars with laughter, spins me around, holds me so tight I almost choke. Scanning his face I notice some new grey in his short cropped beard, his hair getting longer, his healthy tan, the precious mole under his left eye -but above all, that he has not changed one bit. Hungry I stare at his mouth, into his eyes, quizzical. Waiting. He puts me down. With a slap on my butt and a slight chuckle. Picks up the roof material and asks what I was about to do so he can fix it for me, because what use is a man around anyway. He winks.
And so, disappointed, I climb the ladder with him following me. Show him what is to be done, get down and leave him to it. Men, I sigh. Oh well. I'm getting older, obviously the physical attraction is waning.

I get into my garden house, put on some music -Jeff Buckley- take a quick shower and slip into a comfortable cotton summer dress, because I was feeling dirty and insecure. Then I make tea and sandwiches.

Suddenly a rumbling sound, a cry and a bang. I hurry outside to see him lying on the ground holding his knee with a painful grimace.

"What the hell happened! Are you all right!" I scream.

But he already tries to stand. Curses.

"Fucking leaves! That fucking roof is fucking slippery as fuck. Fuck!" He yells, trying to kick something, limping on one leg.

"Jesus, you could have broken something. Let me have a look. Come with me."

Leaning on me he hops inside. Sitting on a kitchen chair, he lets me feel his knee. It seems okay. Bruised, yes, but nothing serious, I think. I get some ice. Wrap it in a cloth and put it on his knee.

Then I feel a hand on my head. Fingers in my hair. Clawing.

"Come here," he says. Pulling me towards him.

Presses his lips on my mouth. Soft kiss. Looks me in the eyes.

"Missed you, you stubborn girl. Why do I always have to come to you?"

"It's easier that way."

"Why?"

"Your life is more complicated than mine. You know that."

He sighs. Tries to say something.

"How's Apple?" I interrupt.

"She is great! What a job you did there, raising our daughter. The girls and my wife love her so much. She is so easy with them. She's just amazing. I'm so proud."

He kisses me again. Friendly, light kiss, intimate yet distant.

"How long will you stay?" I ask the forbidden question. The one that hurts.

"A day or two, three. Rehearsal, two shows. Then off again."

I straighten. Get the tea. The sandwiches.

"What's that face?" He says. Brows arched.

"Nothing," I pout, turn to the counter, busy with nothing.

Silently he must have gotten up. Lifts my hair and brushes my neck with his beard.

"Don't be like that," he whispers. Nibbling my ear with his lips.

I shiver, but do not respond.

He pulls away my dress, leaving my shoulder bare. His tongue slides over my skin, one arm around my waist. Pressing me against him. With his other arm he leans against the counter.

Still I do not react. Gawky I arrange the sandwiches on a plate. I squeak when he suddenly bites my flesh.

"Goddammit, woman!" he growls, twisting me around.

He grabs my chin, forces a kiss on my mouth. Not so lightly now, but rough, demanding. Bending me against the counter. Touching me. I moan but push him of me. I take a step away, lean against the wall. Panting. With a wild, serious look on his face he approaches. Then takes hold of me again. We struggle a bit. Grabbing clothes. Mouths wide open we kiss, tongues entwining. His hands everywhere, stroking over my body, drops to his knees. A curse. His mouth in my crotch, breathing hot warm air through the fabric, biting my mount. My legs can not hold me. I lean on his shoulders. He lifts me. Carries me towards the kitchen table. Mouth still on my sex. Arms and hands around my ass. Lays me down on the table, shoves the things on there with one swipe of. He kisses and bites me trough my panties. My belly. Kneading my breasts and plundering my mouth. He grabs my hand, that is cramped on his strong arm, and pushes it against my vulva. Moves it as if I touch myself. Has I start breathing harder so does he. His hand stimulating me with through my own hand. Rubbing. With his other hand he unbuttons his shorts. I help him take them down.

He takes his hard rod and pulls my panties to one side. Then he teases me by holding the top against me, I feel the blood pulsing, but nothing more. He knows that drives me crazy. I meow. Bite his bottom lip. Pleading. I'm so ready for him. But nothing. He kisses my forehead, gets of the table and puts his pants back on. Leaving me bewildered.

"I thought it time to finally get to know each other a bit first."

17. Honest

Hey, but what did I expect. I thought, when he did not come back. What did I expect? I expected him to have an explosion of feelings but above all love, love for this being we created out of our love. This beautiful person so like him, her hair, her face, her eyes, her charm. She was a little elf, like he was. And oh I loved her so much. I would do anything to protect her.

But I loved him too. How could he behave like this? Unimaginable. But he was not here. So maybe I was wrong about him. About my love for him.

I heard someone downstairs. Calling. "Sweety, I'm here!"

Sweety, I'm here. Right.
Right! Of course! I shook myself.

It was Saturday, and on Saturday Rogier, my ex husband and best friend came to collect the children. With a sob I slipped into my bathrobe.

"Sweety, sweety, calm down, calm down. I'm here. What's wrong." He comforted me as I flew into his arms, crying.

"I, I told him" I sobbed.

"What? He's here? What happened?"

"I told him and...  And he left!"

"Fucker." Rogier said through his teeth. "Fucking bastard!"

After I had calmed down, washed my face, I told Rogier everything what had happened earlier, that night. Then we had breakfast together -me, Rogier, Mees and Apple.
He knew Apple was not his child. Even Apple knew. We had always been honest about it. In our little family, between the walls of our home, we were honest and true. Even though I loved Rogier dearly, he knew I loved the fucking elf more, in a different way. And he accepted it. Because he was my friend. Always was and alway will be.

And Apple had no problem with him not being her father. She loved him anyway. She was curious about her real father, of course. Specially since I told her that her father had been like an angel come to earth for me.

Some angel, I thought bitter.

Waved them goodbye. A whole weekend before me. To sort things out.

I watched the Porsche take a turn, jumped and blew some kisses, then turned, ran to my house and bumped into someone. Hard. Into him. The angel. I fell on my knee. Hurt myself. He helped me up. Lifted me and brought me back into the house. Looking very serious with that big frown and non-smiling face.

As I sat on a kitchen chair, he cleaned my bloody knee with water and some paper towels.

He lifted me chin. Looked deep into my eyes and was about to say something when a clear voice sounded.

"Are you my father?"

Slowly he turned. Looked at Apple standing there. With an accusing expression on her face. But also hope, interest, curiosity, longing even. I did not know she had those feelings concerning her unknown father.

"Yes." He said. "I am your father."

And at that moment I must have fainted. I can not remember anything. I woke up in my bed. With no clothes on. Only a satin sheet covering my body. And a wet towel on my head.

I wrapped the sheet around me and went down stairs. Nobody. I got real scared. Where are they! Not in the living, not in the kitchen. I ran outside. Into the garden.

I heard voices. Laughter. When I approached I saw them sitting there. Father and daughter. Alike. Heads together. Bent over something in their hands. What? A bug? Talking. Giggling. Looking each other in the eyes. Smiles. Then two pair of ocean blue eyes looked at me. Me wrapped in a burgundy red satin sheet. Wide eyed worried look I must have had. And him looking at me. A naughty smirk on his face when he looked at the sheet clinging to my body. She looking at him with a glorified smile. Then she ran to me. Hugged me.

"How are you feeling, darling?" The lion said to me.

At my daughter, our daughter; "I will see to it that your mother gets some rest. And I'll take a nap also. Will be with you later, Apple, so we can talk." Then he winked at her. And she smiled back.
"I'll go to my friend. She has a puppy. So you will be here when I come back?"

"Sure," he said. "If you want me to."

With a warm hand in the small of my back he leaded me to my bedroom. I felt really nervous. He took me in his arms, hummed a bit and rocked me. His warm low voice calming me. Then he bent me backwards. Still holding me, leaning on one knee. Then he spread me on the bed. He took away the sheet. His eyes caressing me. Lingering at my mouth, my breasts, my belly, my pubic hair.

He took of his shoes and socks. His shirt. Then he leaned over me. Legs on both sides of my body. Touching me. With his hands, with his mouth. My cheeks, my neck, my collarbone, my breasts. Softly. Hardly touching. Caressing. As light as a feather.

A finger nail over my ribs, my stomach, circling my bellybutton. His hand pressing lightly on my mound. Fingertips stroking the inside of my tights. And his gaze following his every move.

Then he kissed my vagina, his tongue between my slit. Softly. Lovingly. Oh and hot, so hot. Hot because he whispered. I squirmed. Quietly meowing. But when I tangled my fingers in his hair he stopped. Ripped his shirt and tied my hands above my head on the rails of the bed. I could only move my legs. But he bound them too. Then he blindfolded me.

Kissed me on the mouth. His tongue tracing my lips. Then no contact, just silent breathing.

The warm palm of his hand touched my nipple. Slowly moving, lightly, then his whole hand pinching my breast, and his mouth, biting me, licking me. Making a wet trail from my breast to my belly. Both his hands on my thighs, squishing them. His mouth, his tongue, full on my pussy. Licking, sucking, biting, growling. And me panting, moaning. His hands on my nipples. Playing them.

"Oh please," I begged. "Oh please, fuck me." Pulling at the straps to touch him.

Then nothing. Noise. Movement of the air. Was he removing the rest of his clothes?

I could feel one hand making an imprint in the mattress next to my head and a pressure against my wet cunt. He slid his rod up and down along my slippery vagina and entered me with one thrust. Oh, that feeling. He filled me up. I felt so tight around him. But he did not move. I only heard him breathe. I moved my hips, but he made sure there was no friction. I screamed with frustration. Biting my lip.

"Beg me again, my love." He said hoarse.

"No!" And angry I pulled my ties again.

He kissed me and moved his hips once. Almost making me have an orgasm. Almost.

I could not resist. "Please, I beg you, please."

"You were not fair with me." He said suddenly. Then shoved his penis up, deep in me.

"You were not true." Again. Banging me.

"You mistrusted me." Fucking me hard.

"You posh bitch." His mouth, wide open, on my breast, tongue on my nipple, moaning, pounding.

He growled, loud. His breathing, heavy.

I screamed with pleasure. It started from the middle of my tummy and spread over my whole body. And then he joined me in my scream.

He was lying on me. Heavy. Exhausted. One hand on my cheek. Softly mumbling sweet words. Then he removed the blindfold and the ties. Kissed me where the fabric had left some soreness.

"I'm so sorry, my darling. I did not mean to hurt you."

"You didn't." I answered.

"It's just. How could you not tell me? How could you not trust me? Those things you said...
You should know that I love you. I am yours."

I laughed, released. We both laughed. I felt so happy. And then I wept. Softly. How could he be mine. Impossible.

16. Tell me

Lying on my bed, completely naked, the most gorgeous man ever. His lovely golden brown hair spread out on the pillow. Sexy facial hair made him look like a lion. A lion in rest. His eyes closed. A serene look on his face. His breathing was deep and slow.  His legs apart, one hand on his belly, the other above his head. Spent.

I could not get enough of this man. I might say that I loved him. I did love him. Which was strange, because in the 14 years that I knew him I had only been with him a view times. Even so; he was my life. He filled it like the air in my longs.
But he was not mine.

This was just another of those overwhelming encounters we had once and a while. As always we had to part.

In those early years because he was committed to someone else, later the same, but also to his fans, the world. And I was committed to my family, honour and things I do not care about anymore. And now, now again he is with somebody else. Someone who was there for him in his time of need. When I was not. And always that world, the world that owned him.

He was not for me. But he loved me too. I'm sure he did.

Softly I blew a soft stream of air over his face. His long lashes moved, he opened his eyes. The most beautiful ocean blue. I knew that colour well. So well. I was in doubt whether to tell him or not. My secret. My precious secret.
But it was time.

"Wake, my love." I said. "We need to talk."

He rolled over and took me in his arms. His smile made my heart skip a beat.

"What is it, darling." He traced the line between my brows with his finger. Kissed my brow. "Don't be sad."

"What will happen now? I don't think I could survive losing you again."

He sighed. Held me closer.

"Why would you lose me? There is only now. You are the one that fills my heart, my soul. You are the one that lives in me. You do not live in my world, but you live in me. In me." He touched his heart. Pressed with two hands.

I continued. "What binds us but a great fuck? There is nothing else we share."

"No? Nothing? I wonder." He said, a grave look in his eyes.

"This connection we have; it can't be broken. You are my soul, my other. What we share...I know what we share. I know! I saw! Please tell me. I want to hear it from you. Tell me, what you never told. Please."

I turned on my back. Took a deep breath. Stared at the ceiling.

"You asked if I ever thought of New York. I said that I do so almost all the time."
Again I took another deep breath, taking courage. I shivered.

"I have to tell you something, my love, about New York. The city that never sleeps. In that room, where we had created our dream world. Where we loved each other mentally and physically until I almost couldn't walk."

He chuckled, a low pleasant sound.

I came up and sat on the bed. Stroking his chest, looking him in the eyes.

"We were not careful all the time. How could we? It seemed unreal. It was a dream. But two months after I came home I realised it was real.

My love, in that room, we conceived a child."

He breathed in sharply. Grabbed me and hid his face in my lap.

"Apple?"

"Yes, I named her Apple. My darling girl. I named her after the city she was sired in. New York; the Big Apple."

"Why!" He cried out. "Why did you never let me know! I had a right to know. You should have told me!"

"Listen to me. We were not free! I was not free. You were not free. You are a star! You are famous! I know nothing of you. For all I know you bang a different woman in every city you go to. A fucking rock star! Would you ever believe me? I might be one of those girls! One of those girls you hide from. Those goddamn stalking women that threaten you. Your privacy. Screaming they love you, claiming they've had your baby....

Would you've believed me?"

Silence.

He stood up. Took his clothes and left the room.