A Battle Raging (15 page)

The anticipation had made her
start to moisten as he'd stared her down, then beckoned her over to him. He'd placed the condom on the easel ledge, grabbed her hips, moved forward to run his tongue along her stomach, then further downward through her thatch, into her crevice, tasting her, preparing her.

She'd needed no preparation
, especially when he'd finished tonguing her. And neither did he by the bulge she saw gathering beneath the tight denim of his jeans.

"Unzip me," he'd instructed and she'd eagerly complied. He'd kept his eyes on her face, searching as she'd released him, began
touching his shaft, massaging the ridges along it. It was hard, and she'd began spasming even then.

He'd reached for the condom package.

"Put it on me," he'd demanded. She'd opened the wrapped condom, had discarded the cellophane, unfurled the rubber. She'd eased it on him, taking it leisurely, wanting him to anticipate their sex as much as she was.

Now, he moved inside her at a pace that made her walls close
in on him, trying to trap him and never let him go.

He let go of her nipple, moved his face up
to her cheek, rubbed his stubble against her smooth flesh and whispered in her ear.

"Tell me what you want."

There was nothing better than this so all she could say was "Just fuck me."

He'd
laughed quietly against her ear, the trill of it sending shivers down her back.

He moved his hands to tighten
her in a grip that brooked no space, guiding her body faster until it took her breath away, until the spasming of her pussy became all that she knew. Blood raced, the rush of it drowning out any other sound than its pumping. Pumping along with his shaft rubbing against her clit. He caught her lips with his own, pushed his tongue in, played with hers as he increased the thrusting even more.

She felt her climax rising and tried to hold it back, wanting to wait to see if he could come with her. But he tightened his arms even more, sucked her lower tongue, moved her body, her ass, until she couldn't take it any longer and exploded on him, moaned against his mouth.

After collecting her breath, she pulled back from his eager mouth to ask,

"Do you…I mean…are you feeling me?"

"Oh yes, yes," he said breathlessly.

Then he smiled such a beautiful smile.

"I can keep going. How about you?"

She answered with a breathy laugh and a small nod.

And he held inside her, making her come again and again for most of the afternoon, causing her to cry out more than once.

Maya wandere
d through the lingerie shop, looking at the various displays before stopping at a mannequin wearing a plum peignoir. Jada came up next to her shaking her head.

"Uhn, uhn. That is definitely not you."

"Who says it's not me?" Maya retorted at the unsolicited opinion.

"The color says it. It'll overwhelm you. And look at the fur trim, just gaudy."

"Well, I wouldn't be wearing it for long," Maya said saucily, then inwardly blanched. This was not like her.

"Well now," Jada said with a sneaky smile. "Somebody's nose is opened…as well as other orifices. He must have put it to you real good."

"None of your business."

"Hey
, no fair keeping all the juicy details to yourself. After all I told you about Steve Blanchard that time, remember? Nine inches…and then had the nerve to tell me he's a grower, not a shower. I almost ran for my life. But thank goodness I didn't."

"Yeah, I really appreciated knowing those details. Especially the description that it looked like a giant polish sausage. Put me off that product for awhile."

Jada giggled and Maya noticed then that her sister was holding a black negligee with lace trim.

"Talking about me, what about you?" Maya quipped. "That is just not your style."

"Oh, forget that tit for tat stuff. Speaking of tits, this will really show off my rather luscious, bodacious mammaries, don't you think?" She held the negligee up against her front.

Maya had to admit, despite her teasing, that the
negligee did look good against Jada. But then nearly everything looked good on her sister. Like right now, she was clad in a white blouse, black denim skinny jeans that hung to her curves and a pair of fuck-me shoes that actually had small accent chains that matched her bracelet.

"
So, how's the friends with benefits situation working out?" Maya asked.

Jada sighed, her face not as sparkling.

"No friend there. Fucking douche bag…but then that's part and parcel of the club scene. Have to admit though, it was good while it lasted. I don't know maybe I'm looking for something more. Lord knows, I'm not getting younger. And one of us should be creating another generation."

Maya
remained silent, concentrating her gaze at the peignoir and deciding against it. She heard her sister's words and felt just a twinge of guilt. Children. She'd occasionally thought of the idea, but had shelved it time and again. And now…if she and Zach actually got more serious, actually developed a relationship, would there, could there be, children?

"We have plenty of time for that," she finally said.

"Yeah, I guess," Jada conceded. "Still, it'll get harder the longer we wait. I don't know why I'm even bringing it up. The few times I've been around babies, I've almost run out of the room. I can't even imagine getting up for a two a.m. feeding. Still though…"

She left the last thought unspoken between them, but Maya knew that eventually the issue would slap them in the face again, sooner or later.

"I need to find someone more simpatico than what I've been dealing with, someone on my own level, you know" Jada said, and then in the next breath, "Yeah, I'm definitely getting this." She held up the negligee again, turning the hanger around for another perspective.

"So, now all you have to do is find someone to model that for," Maya said.

"Oh, yeah," Jada said. "But someone worthy of how my tits are going to look in this, so it won't be just anyone this time around. Until then, it'll be nicely tucked into my nightie drawer."

In the end, Maya decided against the peignoir or anything else frilly or lacey. For now, everything would remain simple and comfortable. No pressure, no high expectations.
Again, at least for now.

###

"No, no, no!" Jerry shouted at Dr. Madison. "No, you don't understand and you're not trying to understand! The government is using all of us as shills to advance some covert plot to dominate the global economy. It's…it's…it's as obvious as the nose on our faces. We just have to figure out the details, and then…and then…" The man's anger suddenly petered out and he looked confused, as though he wasn't sure where he was. He peered around at the other group members, including Zach, and then, like a weary man, took his seat again.

D
espite Jerry's obvious breakdown, Dr. Madison's demeanor remained calm.

"And we will figure it out, Jerry, together.
I've already talked to Dr. Zimmerman, your primary about revising your dosage. Things are going to be much better, I promise you."

Zach couldn't help the withering look he threw at Dr. Madison. This man was absolutely no help where Jerry was concerned.
Jerry was getting worse each week, and the psychiatrist still hadn't gotten him on stronger meds. What would it take – a complete breakdown until they had to put Jerry in a rubber room?

Jerry had seemingly shut down, his eyes vac
ant, his mouth moving silently.

"
Delia, I believe you're up next," Dr. Madison said, for the moment deciding to ignore Jerry.

"I…I really don't have anything this week,"
Delia said, remaining seated. From her expression, Zach could tell that she'd been unnerved by Jerry's latest rant. They all had to an extent.

"It's OK,
Delia, anything you have would be beneficial to your therapy," the doctor coaxed. After a few moments, she got up and began talking about a new job she'd started the other week. As a 911 operator. Zach wondered why in the hell would she do that to herself.

Sure enough, she recounted at least two calls involving one murder attempt and one domestic battery.

"Delia, now don't take this as a criticism," Dr. Madison began, "but I wished you had informed me of your career choice before you took this position. This job will not help your recovery from PTSD in anyway. If anything, it'll add to your stress. You must know that."

"But I need
this job, Dr. Madison. You know, to help with the bills and it was the only thing available right now. I didn't tell you about it because I knew you'd try to talk me out of it and I couldn't not take it. See, Raoul lost his job about a month ago…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dr. Madison
interjected. There was a look of consternation on his face. "These are the types of stressors that need to be discussed."

"I know, I know…"
Delia said miserably. Zach saw a couple of tears on her cheeks. "But I don't know what to do. I served my country, and when it's time for me to collect due, there's nothing. I have to hold on to what there is. If that means a cheating husband, sick kids or a stressful job, then I will do what I have to. If I have to up my meds, then I'll do that, too."

"OK,
Delia, we'll discuss this later after the session," Dr. Madison said a little tersely. This whole session seemed to be getting out of his control.

"Zach, so what has happened with you since the last session?"

Zach had been anticipating this Monday's session since this past weekend. It was time to come clean, to not keep Maya a secret any longer despite his initial hesitancy.

"I'm seeing someone," he said as nonchalantly as his nerves would allow.

"Well, now," Dr. Madison perked up noticeably. "This is a surprise. Not to pry too much, but when did all this happen?"

"It's been ongoing for a couple of weeks, more or less," Zach admitted.

"Hmmm, and you're just now mentioning it." The doctor's expression changed slightly, an indictment of Zach's mendacity, at least how Dr. Madison would view it.

"It's new and I didn't want to jinx anything."

"Zach, you don't really believe in superstitions, do you?"

"No, but I believe
that things can turn to shit with little or no effort. I'm just being careful here."

"Well, good, that's good. D
oes she know about your history, your condition?"

"Yes…and no. She knows about my stint in Afghanistan,
that I got hurt there, and that I have some stress issues…"

"Some stress issues, yes
. And she's OK with that?"

"
Yes," Zach said succinctly.

"So, how did you meet this woman?"

The moment of truth. When the proverbial shit would hit the fan.

"She's my art instructor."

A little surprise in the doctor's expression now.

"
Oh, I see. I really don't know if this is wise, Zach."

Zach had expected Dr. Madison's reaction. Still it grated.

"I don't know why not. After all, we're both adults. It's not like it's a shrink-patient relationship."

"No, you're right. There's not the same trust
issue as there is between a doctor and patient. Even so, most teachers and instructors abide by a similar prohibition not just because of the unequal leverage a teacher has over a student but also because of possible favoritism shown the student. You in this case."

"Well, I'm not fucking
her for an A," Zach said casually, eliciting some snickers from the group. Jerry, however, was looking at the doctor with the same vacant stare.

Dr. Madison remained u
nperturbed by the rough statement. Given how many of these sessions he'd run, there was probably nothing he hadn't encountered before.

"Well, given as you say there is no favoritism, I still expect that there will be some therapeutic breakthrough with these "sessions." After all, you
r mental and emotional well-being should take precedence over anything else. I know she's not certified as a psychiatrist or even a psychologist, but since you say she knows about your circumstances, she should take that issue under consideration in helping you find some sort of release with your art…"

"Oh, I think she's giving Zach a release,"
Arnie Stroger snickered. He was former Navy, like Delia, and had survived two tours. The graying man was a grandfather, and of them all, seemed to have more of a sense of humor.

Zach couldn't help but smile. Because, damn it was true. Saturday, he'd actually come but it'd taken an hour. Not that Maya had minded. No, she hadn't minded at all. Her moans played on his mind at that moment and he quickly doused the memory. Couldn't afford to get a hard on here.