A Magnificent Bastard Pt. 03

A server came by to carve out some sirloin into our plates, and that was enough of a reason for us to pause, eat, and not talk for a bit; but then Rachel set her fork and knife down and looked at me with this conflicted look on her face.

"God, I wish this wasn't so hard, but thinking about that time and the party, I keep thinking that I want to go, but ..."

"... but you're not sure if I should come?"

"Does that make you feel shitty?"

"To be honest? Yeah, it does. Look, Rachel, I don't want to be your dirty little secret. I know you said earlier that you don't like being judged for dating an older guy ..."

"It's not that and you're not old. I swear, you're not. I told you, right? My parents are, like, 15 years apart, which is even more than us. I really don't care. No, it's ..."

"... you don't know what you'd want to call this?"

"yeah, I mean, calling each other lovers is fun in private, but it's totally pretentious to friends and family. And when they meet you, they're going to know want to know where you fit in. Is this guy, like, the next Josh and what should we expect and ... fuck ... why is it so hard? I'll just say it. I'm not yet ready to call you my boyfriend."

"Because you're still making up your mind?"

"I don't know! I like you. I like talking to you. I like being with you. I like the sex. But the idea of committing to something again after Josh is fucking scary. You're not Josh, I know that. This is totally in my head, and I don't know how to get it out."

"I'm not asking for a commitment."

"You don't have to. It just feels like it's happening all over me. Us living in the same town, always being over in each other's place. Now you might get to meet the closest thing I've had to brothers and a sister. Then Megan's going to tell my parents. Even if you're not asking for a commitment, I feel like it's making a commitment just introducing you to them. It's huge. And it's freaking me out."

I reached out, held her hand and squeezed it. "How can I help?"

"By listening, I guess? I mean, you remember what I was talking about before you and I got together? How I wasn't sure if I'd have the confidence to date again because I couldn't trust myself after Josh? Well, you've helped me turn that corner. I'm enjoying flirting again, and I'm having crushes again and it's fun! I forgot what that felt like. God, you know, they say that your 20s are supposed to be this period of just playing around and discovering things about yourself. Letting yourself go wild a little and just having fun. But, I spent a lot of my 20s on burnout jobs and then committed to a really toxic relationship. I feel like I'm just starting to see what could've been, and getting into another committed relationship might mean I'll miss out again."

Then those sapphire blues of hers fixed on me intently.

"... but I've also got you and I want to hold on to you too. And I don't know what to do."

"Well, talking about it has been a good start. I think you've got a point about how you should enjoy a phase of fooling around, and just being able to play. Look, I like you, Rachel. I know that I want to be with you. But I sympathize with what you're going through. Jane and I dated all through college, but then broke up when I was in my late 20s, and I also needed that chance to just be free and experience different relationships to know what I wanted. I'm at a different place now, but I think I've been where you are, and I want you to have that chance too."

We were quiet for a moment, looking down, probably both thinking the same thing. I said it first.

"Do you want to do an open relationship?"

"Would you ... would you be ok with that?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I've read about it, and I know some friends who've done it; but, of course, we're all different."

"Yeah, I've read that there's no one right way to do it. Everyone has their boundaries and their comfort zones. Neither of us have done this before."

"Well, I do know that I trust you, and I think that this can be something we try. Like, maybe, you'd want to do something with Reggie?"

"I don't know if I'd actually pick him. I think he's just a crush, and they're fun but they come and go pretty easily."

We were quiet and pensive again, still holding hands. Then Rachel mused, "... but let's say I did let something with him go further. Do you want me to tell you? Ask you for permission? Or do I just bang him and tell you about it afterwards?"

I surprised myself by just saying reflexively, "oohh, that last part is kind of hot."

Rachel quirked her eyebrow at me "Seriously?"

"Actually, yeah, now that you mention it, I like the idea of you telling me, but I don't know if you need to ask me for permission, and I don't think I need to be there. Unless, you think that's hot, too. We can play that part by ear. But I like to think of you playing with someone else, but in the end always coming back to me."

"Ooh yeah, I think I get it. You like that in the end I'm always going to choose you?"

"I like that all of these guys will only get to know a slice of you, but only I get to know everything."

"You're so sure of yourself that you think you can beat any guy for my affections?"

"You tell me. Do you think I will? I like to think that if there's anything that's going to cause us to go off the rails, it's because of something you or I do or don't do to each other. What other people bring into it doesn't matter."

"God, you're different. Thank you. I mean it. Thank you."

We didn't talk about it further, but a few day later, late at my place, I was lounging in bed with Rachel, slowly taking her blouse off as I was kissing her.

"So," I said, "tell me more about your old housemates"

"Oh, you know. Average white collar college students sharing a cheap and grubby house a stone's throw from campus. As I said, Megan and I were freshman year roommates. She was a force of nature. I remember the first time that I met her, she was all, 'I have these two tickets to a concert that I scored from an RA a few hours ago, but it's at another school five miles away. Do you have a car? You should come with me. Oh, you don't have a car, maybe we can make a friend who has one and we can find a third ticket.' That's how she was. She had ideas and she had a way of getting what she wanted. Nothing was impossible for her. It was all just a matter of making some kind of deal.

"Megan met Mal, actually his full name is Malik. They met at an international students club. They're both American, but second generation Lebanese, and pretty westernized. But it was through the club that Megan heard about the second floor unit in Mal and Ian's being available. Mal and Ian played on the same soccer club and had been best friends for, like, forever. They helped us move in and we'd been friends and neighbors ever since. We had this swank front porch over looking the street that Ian and Mal's unit did not have so we had a sort of open policy that if either of us were home, they could just come up and hang out on the porch with us.

"Anyway, Malik's, like this, super smart, super intense guy who was studying bioinformatics. So he'd go between phases of hermit like isolation or just wild party animal. Work hard, play hard stuff. Ian studied history, mostly because he liked the stories and not because he was looking to make a career of it. He was always a little rootless and just a happy go lucky dude up for whatever. A chill yin to Mal's intense yang."

I had her blouse off now, and was reaching behind her to release her bra, I murmured into her ear. "Did you guys ever mess around when you were living together?"

"I'm sure you like to think so."

She sighed as her bra came off, and then lay back as I let my tongue swirl around her left nipple. "Oooh, that feels nice, Jake ... I did have a bit of a crush on Mal when I was living there. Either he or Megan were the ones coming up with plans, and I just really like it when a guy takes charge, but, you know, the timing was never quite right, and I was feeling a little intimidated by him. Ian was undeniably handsome, but our vibe was much more older sister/little brother. I'm pretty sure that Megan and Ian hooked up once at a summer party after graduation, but if you ask either of them they'd both deny it. I think we all got to a point where we realized that we had a pretty special friendship, and screwing around would just mess things up. Oh, shit, Jake, you are horny."

Rachel giggled as she felt my cock brush against her thigh, engorged and fixated with thoughts of teenage her messing around with her friends. I had one hand holding her wrists down, as another hand stroked its way down her stomach, while I continued licking her breasts

"Just keep talking," I said.

"Well, there's not much left to say. Mal graduated and went on to grad school, then met this awesome Japanese woman, named Sofia, who he married just a few years ago. Ian did his gap year of traveling around the world, while ... ooh, Jake, yeah, that's nice ... while I introduced Megan to Alan and then watch them get serious, then engaged, then married.

"But you and Megan never fought over a guy like Alan or had any jealous moments?"

"No, I mean, not really. Oh, uhh, how am I supposed to talk when you do that? ... Sometimes a guy would catch both of our eyes, but we both figured out pretty quickly who was the better ... nnghh ... match. Megan and I have pretty different tastes. Like, uhnnh, yeah ... when you meet her, you'll understand."

My fingers had slipped past her panties and buried themselves in her dripping pussy, I reveled in the feeling of her squirming beneath me as I whispered into her ear. "So, all these friends of yours with their husbands and wives and staying in the same big cabin ..."

"... yeah ..."

"... who treat each other like brother and sister ..."

"... yeah ..."

"must be a lot of sex going on."

"oh, fuck yeah"

"and, if we went, we'd probably have to be very quiet when we fuck."

"ohhhh, yes, Jake."

"... but, you're such a loud little slut"

Rachel's breath was getting shallower and more rapid, and she practically squealed, "no, I'm not. I can be quiet. I promise."

I took my fingers out of her, wet and fragrant with Rachel's juices, and I tugged her panties down as she obligingly raised her hips up. Then, with her underwear fluttering down to the floor, I straddled her with my cock thrust forward, hard, and eager.

"You see this cock? If you can't keep your mouth shut, I'm going to shut it with this."

In the darkness, I could see Rachel looking at my cock, and then me, with eyes that were lidded with lust, and her mouth tightened as she nodded silently.

"Good girl."

Then with one hand pinning her wrists above her head and another slipped below the small of her back, I took my place between her legs and I listened to Rachel whimper as I slid into her. She was liquid and hot, and I felt her hips buck into mine as she sought to take me all into her. I held myself still for a moment, just enjoying the sensation of being wrapped by her, and I kissed her jaw, her chin and her hard pressed lips. Then I slowly pulled out and slid my way in even deeper, tilting my hips so that my cock would grind thoroughly upwards against her, making Rachel take in another deep breath as she struggled not to moan. Instead she turned her head to the side and just whispered quickly, "I'm going to be good. I'm going to be quiet. I'll show you, I'm ... oooh, so good. So quiet. So ... nnnnh, nuuuhhh, oh god."

She also thrashed mightily against my hands, channeling her energy from her moans into her arms and legs, building in energy and strength as I kept plunging into her.

"I can be good. I can be quiet. I can take ... oh I can't ... "

... then her body went rigid, straining against mine, spine arcing and hips thrusting upwards as she tried to fill herself with more of my ardent, rigid flesh.

"unnh, Jake, I caaaan't hold ... OH FUCK. OH, JAKE. FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUCcccck."

as she screamed that out, I slowed down my thrusting and said, "oh look, you were being so good, but you just couldn't stay quiet. I told you what would happen. I'll have to show you what happens to sluts who can't stay quiet."

Rachel's orgasm had subsided, but she still whimpered as I pulled out of her pussy, my cock still dripping with her juices. Then I raised myself up on my knees, hands still holding her down, as I thrust myself into her mouth, and felt her relax her throat as I went in to my hilt.

"You were so close. You were being so good. Now make me cum and drink it all, slut. That's the penalty you'll have to pay."

She just closed her eyes and let me have my way with her mouth, letting me thrust in my regular rhythm as I let my own arousal build. It didn't take long, and when it did arrive, I let myself erupt into her mouth, coming in bursts, then withdrawing and leaving a few drops of cum on her lips and chin as I collapsed my weight against the headboard.

We were quiet for a few moments, catching our breath before I slid down and wrapped Rachel in my embrace, spooning her with my arms sliding around her slim waist as she tucked herself into me. Then, after a moment of quiet, I could hear Rachel sigh languorously and say, "damn, Jake. I guess I am taking you skiing."

******

A few days later, Rachel called Megan to tell her that she was going to go to the cabin for the New Year's weekend and that she had someone who was going to be coming along with her. She seemed different after that, like the act of telling others about me and us was a Rubicon that she had crossed. A fog that I didn't realize was there had lifted, and we were more relaxed, easier, and open with each other.

Of course, it probably didn't hurt that I was, for all intents and purposes, on an open-ended vacation.

I wasn't in any rush to find a job. The way I figured it, I owed myself a bit of a break. $5 million wasn't exactly early retirement money, not any more. I'd still have to work, but, for once, I could take my time to figure out what I wanted to do and gauge my options. Because $5 million gives you a lot of options.

Still, having worked in a variety of places for almost 30 years, I realized that a certain jadedness had set in. Everyone claims that they want to change the world, but after a certain age, you just see more ways that the world likes to stay the same. I got bombarded with a dozen recruiter messages as soon as I was on the market, but it was all uninspiring: a wave of young startups wanting to be the next Uber, Tesla, or Xiaowei. Or it was just the usual Big Names wanting a replacement Director of This or Vice President of That. I didn't want to be the next anything. I wanted to be a new something.

Meanwhile, Rachel never did get around to hooking up with Reggie. As she said, it was just a little crush, but she enjoyed having the freedom to have those crushes again, and to talk about them. Her adaptive advertising project at work was also starting to pickup steam, and she was teaching herself how to do some machine learning. She rationalized her AI classes was helping her understand the algorithms that she needed to tweak to get people's attention, but I think she also just enjoyed building things herself, and she had the joy of a newcomer discovering a fresh method of creation. I helped her with her studies because I envied being that sort of student again.

My malaise continued into the rest of the fall and winter. Giddiness gave way to boredom. Interesting projects turned into dead ends, or worse. The tech industry has always had an ageism problem and nothing advertises burnout more than being 40+ years old and not having worked for six months. Interesting lunches that I'd have with young founders would go cold when I failed to show enthusiasm for some new programming framework. People would look at me blankly when I'd ask about something as gauche as responsible spending and making a profit. Maybe it was time for to get out of this work altogether. But then what?

******

Eventually the holidays were upon us. Rachel and I agreed to go see our family separately for Christmas, and I flew to the Midwest to see my mom. She picked me up from the airport, all smiles and kisses, with disco booming in the car sound system. That was a good sign. She had taken dad's death hard, but it was three years ago, and while that sort of sadness never really goes away, it was good to see she had space in her heart for disco again. The car was a new two person self-driver. A robot sofa that can go on the highway was her way of describing it. It was good, since mom's eyes were going, but not having to drive meant that my mom wasn't going to be distracted by the road and could just put all of her attention on me. She went for the jugular right away.

"So, are you happy in New York?"

"Oh, it's different, you know, mom. Bigger, more intense, more ... New York."

"You know that's not what I'm asking. You never tell me anything, Jake, but you at least owe me an explanation of why you moved there. Why you really moved there."

"Why can't it be just because I wanted to move somewhere?"

"Jake Traeger, you are 44 years old and that is at least 14 years past the point where sneaking around and keeping secrets from your mother was being cute."

"It's complicated."

"It's always 'complicated' with you people, especially when talking to your parents. Like we had simple lives. We're supposed to be the ones treating you like children."

"Ok, fine, I went for a woman. I like her. I wanted to be closer to her. We're still together, but we're taking it slow."

"Is that why she's not here? You haven't brought anyone home since Jane, and that was more than 10 years ago. It's not like I want grandkids from you, Jake. I know now that you don't want that, and I've come to accept it. It's just after your father passed away, I realize that I'm not going to be here forever and I just want to be sure that you'll be happy before I go."

"You know there's no guarantee, Mom. I could be putting on a show of happiness for you and get married and then you can die and I'll get divorced afterwards, and it won't mean anything."

"And a comet can hit us tomorrow and it's all pointless, but we can at least appreciate the time that we did have, and the opportunities we did take. Why are you trying to deny happiness, Jake?"

"I don't know ... maybe because I feel like she's this diamond at a bottom of a stream and I want to stick my hand in and grab it, but I'm afraid that it might slip as I pick it up and then the stream will whisk it away. But if I leave it alone, I can still look at it and know that it's there."

"Women aren't objects, Jake. I get your meaning. But, you don't have to use a metaphor to hide the fact that you're scared of getting hurt, and your metaphor also means that if you don't go for it, you and the diamond will never be together"

"Augh, ok, fine, Mom, you win. I'll bring her next time. If there is a next time."

"Are you having trouble already?"

"No? I think. I don't know. I'm trying to be confident and sure, but ..."

"You really want this, don't you?"

"... I guess." God, how does my mom always make me feel like I'm twelve?

"You were like this before, Jake. Always calm and confident and sure of yourself, unless it was something you really wanted and then you got nervous. You let the fear come in. You remember that 9th grade science fair?"

"God, mom, don't bring that up again."

"Why not? You did great! You didn't get any sleep because you were so worried about your experiment. But you did so great!"

"I know, and you keep bringing it up over and over again to embarrass me. But I get it, and thank you for listening and for bucking me up."

"You still haven't said her name. I'm your own mother and you won't tell me who will replace me in telling you that you're a good boy."