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.

15. Apple

Strangely normal this was. Him leaning against the counter and following me with his eyes while I was making us a smoothie. I put some spinach in the blender and leaned over him to get some bananas from the fruit bowl. He intercepted me, held me tight with his arm around my waist.

"Do you ever think of New York?" He asked me.

"Often." I said.

"When?"

"What do you mean, when?"

"When do you think of New York?"

Confused I pushed him away. Added the bananas, some water, and hemp seed. Took two glasses and poured. As I gave him a glass our fingers touched. Funny that after all our intimacy I still felt electric sparks.

He kept looking at me questioningly.

"When?"

"I....think of you...often. Not just New York. I feel you." I stammered. "It's just...just...you know..."

"No?"

"Don't tease me. You know when."

"You are a dirty girl." He said with a smirk on his face as he reached for me.

He bent me with one arm behind my back. I arched. Kissing my neck, lower, he made my tee wet by nipping and sucking my nipple through the fabric while touching the other with his thumb. Drawing circles around it till I moaned with pleasure and frustration.

"So tell me...when?" He demanded.

"To be honest...I...most of the time. Those moments when...empty moments. It can be a smell, a taste, a sound.

I...have to...I have to get my kids from school."

Giggling and stomping my kids and me game inside.

I expected him to be there. Waiting for me. But he was gone. I sighed. What did I expect? Nothing's changed.

I hugged my beautiful children. My daughter with her long brown curls with golden specks and my cute son, Mees. He was getting bigger now. Bigger then her almost. 'Hollander', I thought lovingly.

"Mommy?" My daughter asked with big blue eyes. "Mommy, let's make a painting!"

"Mommy?" Mees asked with his big green eyes. "Can go and play outside?"

It was almost diner time when the doorbell sounded. My girl and me were making a painting together. And my boy was back and played with some Lego. He ran to the door and yelled, "Maybe it's Dad!"

When he came back in the room he was not with his father, but with him. The lion.

I jumped up. My daughter cried out because I threw over the glass with the brushes. He was carrying a bag with food. Falafel. Best  falafel in town. He smiled. Looked at me, at my daughter, then my son. Cleared his throat and introduced himself to my children in a shy and charming manner.

"Wicked!" My son cried. "Did you bring your guitar? Are you going to sing for us? Can you learn me how to surf?"

Obviously my son knew who he was.

My daughter shook his hand.

"Hello, sir, my name is Apple."

"What did you say your name was?" He said, raising his brows a bit.

"Apple, sir."

"Apple! Wow. That name fits you perfect with your lovely apple cheeks and that cute dimple."

Apple looked questioning at me with her ocean coloured eyes. I translated, at which she blushed and thanked him.

After diner I cleared the table and made some Greek yoghurt with honey and walnuts. When I came into the living Mees, Apple and the Lion were watching an animated Japanese film. My kids loved that film. I felt a large lump in my throat seeing the way they sat. Apple with her head on my lovers arm, half asleep. Mees sitting on the floor. Leaning against his leg. I was shocked to see Apple and him like that.  I almost gasped. Normally Apple is rather shy, Mees always very outgoing. But Apple...it seemed almost natural.

He was good with children. Of course he was.

He looked up when I came in. Winked at me. Stared at my body as I was standing in the doorway. He made me feel all squirmy suddenly. Feeling awkward I gave them the yoghurt. Said that they had to go to bed when they had finished it. No arguments.

After they had brushed their teeth, me and mister rock star brought them to bed. Gave them a hug and he even sang something. A tune I never heard before. Made me all weak in the knees, hearing that warm baritone in my own house. No lyrics, just a melody and whispered words of comfort. They fell asleep with no trouble at all.

When we walked down the stairs I thanked him. Not just for the food and the singing, but also for being here.

"And now get the fuck out of my house, before I get used to having you around."

I pushed him in the direction of the front door.

"Do you really want me to go?" He said.

"No!"

I grabbed his face between my two hands and pulled him towards me. My mouth covered his and hungry I kissed him, fumbling at his clothes. Panting and half dressed he picked me up and carried me back into the living, dropped me at the couch.

While I was lying there, waiting for him to join me, he just stood there staring at me with his beautiful blue eyes, that face, the long golden brown hair. A god. Wild eyed. Half dressed. His shirt half on, only the sleeves wrapped around his arms, leaving his magnificent shoulders bare.

And then he started to undress. I could not help making whimpering sounds.

Then he kneeled and leaned over. Reaching his arm, begonning me to come to him.

And I did. Gladly. I stroked his legs, kissed and bit the tattoo on his calf. Along the inside of his thigh, nibbling his balls and stroking his erect manhood as if I were a sculptress. Up, up, kissing his belly button.

He grabbed me at my jeans and pulled me on him. Kissing me, rubbing against me, breathing loud. Grunting.

"Fuck me, girl. Fuck me real hard."

14. Gardening

The last days of  September had been were very busy. I had to arrange my father's affaires with the help of Van der Horst, the family solicitor. And I was also entangled in the divorce between me and Rogier. He was in love. This Tinkerbell was finally the one for him and he was happy.  They were a beautiful couple, both blond, tan and athletic.

My father's funeral was very impressive. Everybody was there. All the club members, all his former colleagues and people he worked with. CEO's, politicians and what not. All the haves. Impressive, but not very touching. I guess he would not be missed. Not even by his wife who was being comforted by Daddy's close friend Arthur, board member of a large international oil company. And my mother played the grieving widow. She was born for that role.

The children were going to school and I was working on a script for a project that was waiting for approval from some foundation to get the finance done. So basically I had nothing to do for the moment. But with autumn coming my garden was like a jungle after a hot but rainy summer. After all, it was October. So I put on my cloves, my boots, an old and torn jeans, a favourite tee, a silk scarf to get my hair out my face and got my pruners out of the shed. It was warm. I was sweating. I was itchy because while cutting and sawing lots of  sawdust,  small cuttings, even spiders and other sticky things had slipped in my hair and my clothes. I was irritated and while plucking little sprigs from between my breasts I had the feeling someone was watching me.

It was him. Leaning against the beech tree. Collar of his jacket up. His beautiful hair under a Panama hat. Cigarette in the corner of his mouth. Crooked smile. God, he was gorgeous.

I dropped everything, wiped the sweat of my face with my dirty clove and ran towards him. Jumped him, tears running over my cheek. Pressed my lips on his and kissed him. October! He was here!

"Let's get you naked." I said. Eagerly pulling at his shirt.
"Calm down." He said. Holding my wrist. "Let me look at you first."

He held my chin in his hand and turned my face toward him. With his thumb he wiped away the tears. His eyes serious and his brows in a frown. Then a smile broke through. That smile made my belly tighten.

"You are dirty." And then he bent, pulled the front of my tee down and licked me between my breasts.

"And you smell. You smell like shrubs."

He put his hands around my waist and lowered his mouth on mine.

"Now get me naked," he murmured.

"I will not let you go again."

I took the scarf from my hair and wrapped it around his wrists.

He leaned against the tree, arms above his head, holding himself upright on a branch, eyes closed. Oh, he was so beautiful that way.

I glided my hands over his now naked body and my mouth followed. He had a soft, golden skin with moles that made him look delicate. But he was muscled and strong. Build like a modern David. My nose in his perfect armpit, my fingers touching him like butterflies. Feeling, trying. He shivered. With the top of my tongue I teased his nipples. And more firmly I kneaded his sides, his buttocks, the smooth hipbones. My wandering hand over his stomach, and lower, was blocked by his raised shaft.

I spit in my hand and rubbed his knob till he was hard as a rock. He moaned. His breathing brokenly.

As I went down I tasted him, took him in my mouth. My longing for him was so great I almost cried. When I felt his hands around my head and the fabric of the scarf that came loose, I looked up at him. Tears on my cheeks.

Tenderly he picked me up. Kissed my tears away and held me against his body. And with one arm around my waist and his hand under my bottom he lifted me. Feeling him inside me was so good. Like a wild monkey I clutched round his neck and muttered all kinds of crazy words and outcries in his ears. He was laughing and no longer being able to stand sank to his knees while holding me. God, he was so deep in me, body and soul.

After, he held me with his hand on the back of my head, pressed against his chest. He chuckled. "Never knew gardening could be so much fun."