The new singer.

"Why do you make that sound?"

He takes of the headphone. "What sound?"

"That breathing sound...you breathe as if...you know."

I blush and walk away.

"I sing!" he calls after me then laughs. That laugh gives me the quivers. Every sound he makes does that. I have to get out of here.

I climb the stairs. Get into the kitchen and pour a glass of water. I put my wrists under the streaming water. My mother always said that calms you down.

"Pebble, count to ten and put your wrist under the tab."

I take a deep breath and go downstairs again.

"When are you ready?" I ask my brother who sits on the old worn couch, rolling a joint.

The new singer is sitting on the floor, flipping through a notebook and looks up as I pass.

"Can I have a sip of your water?" He asks.

I bow and hand him my glass. He drinks. Empties the glass.

"Sorry." He gives me back the glass. "Why are you wet?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why are your sleeves wet?"

"While getting that water from the toilet pot."

He sticks his finger in his throat. Pretends to puke.

"You're funny." He reaches out and strokes my leg. "Why do you hate me?"

I look down at him.
He has a dimple. His lips are pink. His hair is unkempt, long waves. He wears a white tank. He is skinny, yet he has muscles. Tribal bracelets around his wrists. Golden boy. Californian golden boy, surfer dude. He combs his hair behind his ear, smiles uncertain, his other hand still on the calf of my leg.

I know I stare.

"I don't hate you. My guess is you're one of those wannabe rock stars. And if not you'll be gone the next day, just like...."

"Pebble, please," my brother interrupts. "Don't bitch."

"I'm sorry." I look at the empty glass. "Shall I get you another one?"

"If you can show me where I can get it when I'm thirsty. Tried drinking from the loo earlier but the smell choked me."

I smile. "I'll show you around."

"Oh and Pebble?" My brother says. "Show him the guestroom too. He'll be staying for a while."

He arrived early this morning. I was in the shower when the doorbell rang. Nobody opened as usual, so I went.

He was small, wore a guitar on his back and an old suitcase in his hand. The collar of his thick coat was up. The backward cap on his head hid his hair. He looked cold, and lost.

First he looked at me, in only a towel, and then bashfully to his toes. He softly introduced himself as the new singer. I hardly heard him. And then he went straight into the basement to rehearse with my brother and the rest of the band. When I got dressed I went down too. I often listen to the band practising.

The old band. Now the new band.

I leaned against the wall with my eyes closed. The new guy started singing after my brother played the cords of a song they wrote earlier. No words. Just breathing. He, he doesn't sing lyrics. He makes a kind of breathing, wailing sound. It is not embarrassing to hear, it is a pure sound. Like that of an angel. But I feel it in my belly too. Thumping butterfly. I don't want that feeling. It is uninvited.

They practise all morning and afternoon. They sound really good. There is laughter too. It had been a while since there was joy in this building. I watch him. And sometimes catch him watching me. Then we look away. I pretend to go through a magazine.

Then one by one they leave. The bass player ruffles my hair as he always does. I am his best friends kid sister. But I'm hardly a kid, though. In a couple of days I'll leave for college. I auditioned and am in dance class now. The academy accepted me.

The new singer is still there. Humming, plucking his guitar, writing down things. And I look at him. Listen to him. He shouldn't be here. Making that sound.

"Why do you make that sound?"

He follows me to the kitchen. Leans against the counter.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks again.

I  study his arms. The inside of his arms. He sees me staring. Lifts one arm closer to my face. No marks. I look up, into his eyes.

"I don't do drugs," he says softly. "If that is what you're afraid of."

I shrug. "That's up to you. I don't care. Just don't want another junk around my brother. He can't handle that." I know I sound harsh.

He touches my face. Delicately strokes my jaw with his fingers.

"Did you love him?"

I nod. Look away.

"Like a brother."

One finger swipes away a tear that was slowly rolling over my cheek.

"He won't be forgotten."

I swallow loudly.

"You can not replace him."

"I have no intention of doing so." He says, a bit angry now.

I snort.

"Hey," he says with this deep voice - friendly now, "will you show me the guestroom?"

In the middle of the night, I get out of bed because I hear noise coming from the kitchen. Carefully I tiptoe through the corridor. There are no lights, but I know there must be someone. Something is being kicked over and I hear muttering. I reach for the switch and in the middle of the kitchen is our guest, on his knees, with narrowed eyes and a package of milk in his hands. He only wears a pair of boxer shorts.

"What on earth are you doing, kitty cat? Looking for a bowl?"

"Meow." He responds.

I get on my knees too. "Have you any idea what time it is?"

He stares at my bare legs, at my breasts. I forgot to put on a bathrobe and now I feel almost naked.

"Nice tee," he grins.

"It's plain and white. Nothing on it."

"Yes." He says. "Possibilities."

"No."

"No?" He smiles, lifts one brow, questioning.

I feel very warm suddenly. We are sitting on the kitchen floor, on our knees, across each other. Weird.

Suddenly he lifts his hand, stretches a finger and touches me. Draws a line from between my breasts to my navel, lingering there. Then up again. Lifting my t-shirt. He puts down the carton of milk he was still holding. Moves a bit closer towards me. Only the length of his finger between us. I can feel his body heat radiating on my naked belly. Up close I can see he has  darker rings around his irises, in the blue sea of his right eye is a brown spot, like an island. And he has insanely long lashes.

He moves his finger higher, further up. Leaving my breasts bare. Then he takes off my tee completely. I lift my arms to help him do it.

"I will keep this. Put something on it. It will be a surprize."

Again he draws with his finger. I am a canvas apparently. He draws circles around one of my nipples, careful not to touch it. But I'm highly sensitive and the nipple hardens till it almost hurts.

"You're beautiful." He says, and he bends his head to press the tip of his tongue against my perky boob, breathing out and making that sound again.

I shiver.

"Are you cold?"

"A bit."

He grabs both of my arms, presses them against my sides and squeezes me tightly.

He doesn't do anything. Just holds me. His warmth is quite pleasing. We breathe together, quietly. His face is in my neck. I can feel his penis through his boxers, though. It is hard.

"How old are you?" He whispers.

"Why?"

"I've got to know."

"Don't worry," I say and teasingly rub my hips against him.

He makes a soft groaning sound. His hands start gliding over my back, lower, my buttocks, kneading them. I move my head so that my lips touch the corner of his mouth.

"Kiss me," I say.

When he opens his mouth to kiss me, our tongues meet and it feels like lighting struck.

His lips are soft and his tongue is warm and playful. Our kiss is deep and passionate. Sometimes our teeth collide. Unaccustomed to each other but eager. He no longer kneads my butt but holds my face in his two hands. I watch him. His lashes are incredible. Resting on his cheeks. I tangle my fingers in his long beautiful hair. Let my hands climb down along his back and tug my thumbs in the rim of his boxers, pulling them down.

But he stops me.

"We shouldn't."

I take one of his hands, lead it to my wet panties.

"We should." I urge, moving against his fingers.

He pulls my panties aside. Touches my smooth vulva, moving his fingers against me. Stimulating my clit. I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning heavy, spread my legs and push against his hand and hips. I pant and sigh.

"Come on."

He fumbles gawky at his boxers and frees his erect shaft. Then he lifts my butt and gently forces his way into me. We do not move at first. We kiss. Slowly, exploring.

Then I start moving my hips and he starts thrusting. One hand on the small of my back.

Long strokes, quietly moaning and making that sound again. In my ears, making me meow like cat.

"We shouldn't." He groans.

"I know."

"I can't stop."

"We should." I moan, pushing him of me. "Drawer." I pant and gesture at the counter drawer.

He gets up and opens the drawer. Takes out a package of condoms. Waves them it at me. Then he lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder.

"Yours or mine?"

"Yours," I giggle.

He sprints to the guestroom, with me over his shoulder.  Seemingly effortless. Then he drops me on the bed, stares at me with a weird grin on his face.

Falls to his knees and pulls my legs apart. He licks the inside of my knees, up my tights, his hair stroking me. His impish eyes follow the expressions on my face. He takes down my panties, fumbles them under his pillow. He sticks one finger in me. Moving it in and out. Watching me. Watching me push my head in the pillow and arch my back.

"You're so hot and wet. Cooking." He whispers.

He stands up. Pulls down his boxers all the way and steps out of them. He is like a statue come to life. Beautiful. He is a small guy but his penis is huge. He touches himself, glides his hand over from the top to the base, making himself even harder.

"Do you want it." He says.

"Yes."

"How bad."

"Real bad."

With a smile he takes a condom from the package and puts it on. Comes on the bed with me, slides his arm under me and moves his mouth over my breasts and takes a nipple between his lips. He sucks on it as he enters me. Then throw his head in his neck, making that wonderful hair dance on his shoulders. He gasps as he bangs me.

I wrap my legs around his hips. I clench him. He kneads my breast, pinches the nipple.

"Yes, fuck me real hard." I whimper loud.

"Shhhh." He puts a hand on my mouth. Replaces it for his mouth.

He moves deep into me. I lift my hips high to feel him even deeper.

He strikes once, twice. Slow, with vibrant energy. My nails claw in his butt. His tight little butt. I gasp on his mouth.

He stops and turns me around. Enters me from behind. Holding me up with an arm around my waist. I lean with my hands against the wall, to steady myself. He slides one hand between my legs, rubbing my clitoris as he thrusts inside me. I cry out and orgasm.

He breathes heavy and then wails, makes that sound again. Wraps both of his arms around me and squeezes me tightly, kissing me on my shoulders and neck.

"I think I love you." He chuckles with his deep voice.

I laugh.

Then we fall asleep.

I wake because I hear my brother singing in the shower. I look beside me and see he is awake too, he is watching me, with sleepy eyes.

"Hi." He says with a bed voice, caressing my cheek. "Come here." He pulls me on him. I can feel his morning erection. He strokes my back. He looks so cute. His hair a mess, one arm above his head, under the pillow. I put my nose in his armpit. Spicy.

I kiss it. Tastes spicy too, and salt. I look at his beautiful curved mouth. Trace his lips with the top of my fingers. I grabs his rod, work it, up and down. He closes his eyes, he frowns his well shaped brows, his mouth opens, his breathing becomes brokenly. I put a finger in his mouth. He sucks it, opens his eyes, his pupils are large. Endless black depth.
On the nightstand lies the package of condoms. I take one and roll it over his penis. I climb on him, sit on top and slide over his shaft.

I am still a bit dry and he is big. But he gasps and I carefully start moving, getting rougher at every penetration. I really want to satisfy him. I can not stop staring at him. Every move I make, his face is a grimace of lust. And then I see the whites of his eyes as they roll backward. He bites his lip and then breaths out with a ferocious groan. He shudders as he spills his seed. Endless.

Then he smiles at me, gives me the sweetest look ever, impish though. Pushes me of him, turns me on my back and disappears under the sheets. Between my legs.

"What are you doing?" I giggle. I pull away the sheets.

His hands are on my thighs, pushing them apart. Then I feel his warm mouth on my mound. I gasp for air. Nobody ever kissed me there.

His tongue licks my slit. I clasp the sheets. He sucks my clit, I start meowing. My fingers toss his hair. Laughing, he takes my arms, shoves them under me, holds them there so my hips are higher and my back is arched. Oh that feeling. I am a bit embarrassed, but that overwhelming feeling makes me float. I know he looks at me, but I don't care that I pull faces, I just don't want him to stop. Ever.

He hands follow the curve of my body, upward, over my belly, to my breasts. He kneads them, massaging my nipples with his thumb. I lift my head, gasping, look into his ocean coloured eyes, drop my head back and I scream, I scream his name.

It is 10 o'clock. We need to get out of bed. He needs to practise. I know the rest of the band is already in the basement. His head is on my belly. I stroke his hair. I have never been more happy. He is so beautiful. I kiss him and leave the room.

I take a quick shower, get dressed and go to the kitchen. My brother is there. With his best friend. They look at me weird. My brother has a worried look though.

He says. "You should know he has a girlfriend."

I almost drop my coffee mug and turn away to the counter. I bite my lip to supress my tears.

"I know." I shrug.

Then I run to my own room. Pack my bag, carelessly throw my things in it.  On my way back to the kitchen I see the door to the guestroom is ajar. I look inside. He is still there. Asleep.

I drop my bag in the hallway.

"I'm ready." I say to my brother. "Will you bring me to the station?"

"Are you going already?" He asks.

"Yes," I respond, "semester starts in two days. I want to prepare.

I don't want to spoil this chance since I got selected for the dance class."

"I'll miss you." His best friend, the bass player hugs me.

"No, you won't. You'll be to busy recording, with the new guy. You'll do fine."

"Will you come and watch us when we start touring?"

"Maybe."

We hug and my brother takes my bag.

At the station he lifts my chin and looks me in the eyes.

"You're okay?"

"Sure." I fight my tears.

"Do you want me to kick him out?"

"No!"

"I will you know, if he's hurt you."

"No. It was just sex. No big deal. I'm just a little slut. He looks good, that's all."

I laugh a bit to loud.

"Don't let this thing I did spoil it for the band. He seems an ok guy.

There is this chemistry between you all. I know you'll make it. You belong together. Give him that chance.

I know he's going to be a star some day. If only you let him.

Let's just never talk about this. It makes me feel awkward. Okay?

Just forget it. I know I will." I swallow and snort when I stop talking.

"You're my brave little sister." He holds me, pets me on the back. "I will make sure he will never be around you again."

"Bye, bro."

"Bye, sis."

Semester has started. New faces, new challenges. Dance class makes me work hard.

I do not think back much.

And when I do I feel this large butterfly roaming inside me. Making me feel empty.

When I walk to the dorm, the concierge hands me a package.

The return address is Seattle, my brothers place. Eagerly I open it.
No note, nothing.

Just a white t-shirt. My own t-shirt. But it has markings on it now. A drawing, a lot of words written on it, mostly unreadable and crossed out.

And only one word is still readable, one word in the centre of the tee. Visible, explicit, big letters.

The word is:

 BLACK

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."