Half the Man Ch. 04

"That makes sense," he said quietly. Then he asked with trepidation, "I don't mean to cause offence, but I never considered you to be the type to have body art. Especially umm, one that stands out so much. Does that make sense?"

Harper grinned and reached for his hand. "I am not offended and yes, it actually makes sense. I had this done nine years ago on my eighteenth birthday to help my confidence."

Dylan puzzled by her statement asked, "I've known you for just a short time, but as I see it, you are very articulate and have a lovely sense of humor. I have enjoyed our lunches; my fondness for you has grown every time we've seen each other. To be perfectly honest, tonight has been magical. Milady you are so poised and so sure of who you are. I...I don't understand how the tattoo helped?"

Harper flushed when he said 'magical'; it was the perfect way to describe her feelings too. She gazed into his eyes and was comforted. He was curious, but he hadn't judged her like so many others before had.

She sipped her drink and explained, "When I was ten, I was playing kickball in the park with my friends. Mary kicked the ball between Julie and me. Julie, being faster, got to the ball first. I was about ten feet behind. When she picked it up a dog ran out of woods and snarled at us. I could hear our parents yelling, 'Don't move'. Julie started to shake, then she took a small step back and the dog moved towards her. Her father yelled again, 'Don't move'. The dog took another step and she screamed, dropped the ball and ran. Before I could turn, the dog lunged. I put my arm up for protection and the next thing I remember was when I woke up in the hospital with my right arm heavily bandaged."

She paused and took another sip. "When I was finally able to see my arm, I almost fainted. It was purple blotchy and covered with ugly jagged lines. I remember the doctor telling my mom it took over two hundred stitches. When the wounds healed, what was left was a mottled mess of angry red stripes that looked horrific. I had plastic surgery, which helped, but only a little. My friends supported me and soon life returned to almost normal.

"Then when I turned twelve, I grew 14 inches. I went from 4' 6" to 5' 8". At that point my life became a living hell.

"My dad got transferred and I had to say goodbye to all my friends. The new school looked nice, but instead of making friends I became a target of ridicule. I was the tallest kid in class, and had a hideous looking arm. Being the new kid and with all the raging hormones of the age group, school was a nightmare for me.

"My parents helped the best they could, but I had no friends and I just crawled into my shell. Next was high school where I was a six-foot-tall beanpole. Three schools merged into one and the insults tripled. I wore long sleeves to hide my scars and that helped a little, but I couldn't hide my height. When I turned sixteen, I got a job after school at a restaurant. One day I came to work in short sleeves and the manager sent me home to change. He didn't want me to 'scare the customers.' Talk about a smack in the face. It was then I started to think about getting a tat."

She took a drink, "I saw quite a variety of tattoos as I waitressed and I wondered if that could help conceal my scars. I went to the parlor down the street and when I got the courage to walk in, I met Cirella. She had the most beautiful tattoos and, how can I say it in polite company, some of them were in places I never dreamed possible. I showed her my arm and asked how much it would cost to hide the pain. Cirella hugged me when she saw the damage. She carefully examined the area around the scar and explained that a three-quarter sleeve would be best. The cost depended on the design and she said a minimum of $700. Cirella also mentioned that I had to be eighteen-years old before she could legally tattoo me. I thanked her and let her know I would be back a few weeks before my eighteenth birthday so she could design the 'new me.'

"I saved money and didn't tell my parents what my plans were. When I turned seventeen, I was 6' 2" and still the tallest girl in the school. I continued working at the restaurant and had saved pretty close to $3,000. I saw Cirella a month before I became legal and she came up with this design. It took five three-hour sessions over eight months and cost me $2,200. But when it healed it was worth every penny. My parents were upset at first, but when they saw the finished product my mom gushed over it. To my surprise, Mom had Cirella tattoo a rose on the outside of her ankle. Dad loved her tat and later surprised her with one of his own. Go figure.

"Dylan, this beautiful body art restored my confidence. It fueled my determination to overcome the years of ridicule. When I entered college that fall I was at my full height and I held my head high. No one bothered me and I was able to finally live. I made friends and I actually 'walked on' the varsity volleyball team. So my sweet man that's pretty much the story behind my tat."

Dylan was about to express his admiration for her courage when his ears pricked up as a new song started. He got up and surprised Harper by asking her to dance. Dylan ran his hand over her right arm and kissed it several times as they moved with the music. He looked up and saw her beautiful blue doe eyes were wet with happiness.

He softly sang for her ears only, "I'm on your magical mystery ride and I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright." He reached behind her head and gently brought her lips to meet his once more.

Harper broke the kiss several stanzas later and sang only for him, 'You're my downfall, you're my muse, My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues, I can't stop singing, it's ringing in my head for you.' She lifted his chin and kissed him hard.

The song ended and the fledgling couple went back to the table to enjoy their dinner. When they arrived back at her place, he accepted her invitation for a nightcap.

Harper opened the door, "Now," she said, referring to his earlier faux-pas, "you can come in."

He blushed at her remark. She took off her jacket, tossed it on a chair and asked if he would like a drink.

He replied, "Some water would be nice."

When she came back she groaned slightly, "My feet are killing me. Would you hold my drink so I can get these boots off?"

Dylan nodded and took her glass. She sat on the couch and slid off her left boot. Before she could do the right she heard, "May I?"

She looked at him with bemusement, "But of course you may, kind sir."

Dylan handed her drink back to her before he leaned over and lowered the boot's zipper. He lifted her leg, pulled the boot off and placed it alongside the other. Then he caressed her long calf and slowly moved his hands down to her foot. He rubbed the heel and kneaded her sole.

"Oh, does that feel good! You can do that all night." Her voice was throaty.

"Put your feet on my lap and I'll be happy to."

So she did!

First, Dylan worked on the bottom of her foot, before moving his fingers to massage and squeezed her tired toes. Harper threw her head back and moaned. He switched and did the same thing to her other foot. He finished by kissing each of her stocking clad toes. Harper almost swooned.

Her voice was relaxed, "Oh my lord! Can I hire you? That felt wonderful."

Dylan laughed a low gentle laugh before replying, "I'm absolutely available as a personal 'foot masseur' for the right person. But may I ask you another question? I am curious about something."

Harper pouted, "I don't think that's fair. I told you about my tat and I still don't know much about you except you're a helluva dancer, give great kisses and dynamite foot massages."

He laughed, "Just answer this one and I will tell you some things about me."

"Oh, okay—go ahead."

"How long are your legs?"

"My, you certainly are the curious one." She chuckled, "My inseam is 39-and-a-half inches long. Satisfied?"

"Yes," he laughed and then asked, "What would you like to know?"

"Everything."

"Hahaha. My dear, to answer that will take a very long time and probably put you to sleep too. Can you be more specific?"

She pondered for a bit, "Have you ever been married?"

Dylan winced which Harper noticed immediately. She was about to tell him to forget it when he spoke. "The answer is yes. The marriage lasted less than a year and ended in divorce four years ago."

Saddened, she apologized, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's all right—that's in my past." He thought for a second, "It will take a bit, but if you want to know more, I will tell you." She nodded and curled her legs under her.

Dylan went through almost everything about his marriage, from how he and Mari met all the way through the divorce. Harper hung on to every word and when he described some of his injuries from the auto accident, she hugged him tight. She then touched his beard with empathy and nodded her understanding with respect to why his leg bothers him so much.

Harper held his hand when he spoke of the insurance company, and how John Quade, along with four others, ended up in prison. She cried when he revealed how his short marriage ended, and she loathed the scheming 'bitch' for her contribution to its demise.

She heard admiration and reverence when he talked about Peter Kimbridge his former boss and good friend. She was very impressed with all Peter did and deeply moved that he helped reconcile Dylan with his parents.

She laughed through her tears how Peter responded when Dylan said he was like a father, "Son while I appreciate the sentiment, I am a poor substitute for the real thing. It's time you called and reconnected with your parents. They should know what's going on in your life."

It was a long overdue, highly emotional reunion.

They both cried when Dylan made the decision to leave Kimbridge Marketing and move closer to home. Peter understood completely and his glowing recommendation helped Dylan secure an excellent job with Promoden.

"That's almost everything Harper—if it weren't for Peter, I wouldn't be here now," Dylan finished.

"I'm so happy you had him in your life Dylan and am glad you two keep in touch. Now come over here and kiss me."

Dylan moved closer and took her in his arms. He traced his hand along the borders of her tattoo and kissed it tenderly. Harper pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him hard. She took his hand placed it on her small breast and moaned when he squeezed her nipple. Dylan's cock pulsed with want. She pushed him off and stood up. With her back to him she coyly asked him to unzip her dress. His mood went from joy to apprehension. It was too soon for him to share that part of his life, but he desperately didn't want to spoil the mood of the evening. Still he had to say something.

Dylan got up caressed her arms and reached around her waist. He pulled her tight, raised his head and whispered, "Harper, I don't want to sour this moment but I'm not ready to make love quite yet."

He was stunned when Harper loudly chuckled. She turned, faced the anxious man and said in a sweet voice, "Dylan, Dylan, Dylan. Who said anything about a homerun? I always start at first base and in order to get there I need your help with my dress. I never even mentioned second base, third base, or a homerun. And if you try to stretch a single into a double you will be thrown out at second! Now be a gentleman and help me or I will rip your shirt off and you'll have to take me out on another date before you get to first base, let alone second."

Dylan grinned when she turned back around and held up her black hair. He grasped the zipper on her light blue dress and slowly lowered it. He took hold of her loosened dress and slid it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor where Harper's long legs sensuously stepped out of it. She covered her small breasts before turning around.

Dylan drank in her beauty, appreciating her lovely body art in all its unfettered glory. He admired the magnificent sunrise that decorated her shoulder. It had many shades of reds, oranges and yellows. He was impressed at how seamlessly the colors blended into the tree and was blown away how well her sleeve hid her many scars.

Dylan grinned and stepped back. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and let it fall. Her blue eyes sparkled when he flexed his gym sculpted muscles and she moved closer. Harper, with her breasts still concealed, leaned down and kissed the scar on his abdomen. She then stood tall, looked down at him and snuggled tight. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her freed doves into his chest.

Dylan moaned, nuzzled her neck and whispered hoarsely, "I want to see you to revel in your beauty."

Harper took Dylan's face and held his head. She took a step back and let go. Dylan licked his lips and looked downward slightly. He almost came when he saw her hidden treasures. Her small, impossibly white, breasts were adorned with silver dollar puffy nipples the shade of coral. Dylan had never seen nipples like these and stared in awe. He reached out and touched her delicate coral flesh. He rolled his thumb around the large areola causing Harper to moan with pleasure. Her nipple became erect and proudly stood out.

He took her in his strong arms and posed her on the couch like a painting of an odalisque. Dylan drank in her loveliness as she lay, naked from the waist up. He spoke to the vision, "You are so unlike anyone I have ever been with. Your legs are sinuous and so very long. Your eyes are larger than the moon and bluer than the noonday sky. And what makes it all so incomprehensible to me is that I was drawn to your personality first. This is more than lust—so much more."

Her heart melted at his tender touching words.

Dylan dropped to his knees and worshipped her. He caressed her tattoo, and nipped her neck. He mouthed her breast and greedily sucked on the oversized tip. Her nipple, to his wonder, tightened more and protruded further. He released his mouth, grabbed the erect bud and squeezed.

Harper squirmed and moaned, "Ohhhh yes! Squeeze it, my sweet man."

Dylan tightened his grip and kissed her lips. She hungrily sought his tongue and together they explored the inner sanctum. Dylan forgot her earlier warning and snaked his hand under the waist of her leggings. Harper gently removed the intruder and lovingly kissed it.

"Not yet," she said, her voice throaty with desire. "I...I...want to, but not yet. Please stop."

Dylan stood and grasped her hand. He pulled her up and into his bare chest. Her silver dollars pressed hard above his pectorals. He spoke to her with heartfelt tenderness, "Lady Dove, I would also love to continue, but I understand we must take our time. I too have my reasons." He kissed her once more, picked up her dress and handed it to her. She quietly set it on the couch reached for her jacket and slipped it on.

He pulled his shirt on and as he buttoned it she softly asked, "You called me 'Lady Dove.' Why?"

"Your lovely breasts remind me of two snow white doves and you are definitely a lady. So you are my Lady Dove."

Harper eyes moistened at her new pet name. She would cherish this moment forever.

He squeezed her hand, "Lunch tomorrow, Lady Dove?"

"Of course my sweet man, 11:30 A.M.?"

He nodded and kissed her goodnight. Before he released, he found her large areola and pinched. Harper moaned, but still managed to open the door and send him on his way. She closed it and sighed.

****

It was an overcast day when a joyful, but pensive Dylan snuck up behind Harper and covered her eyes. "Guess who, Lady Dove?"

"About time you got here—Troy." She giggled, as the western sky darkened imperceptibly behind them.

He laughed with her and sat down. "Before we head over to Emilio's, I want to thank you for a lovely time last night. I learned so much about you and I truly find you awesome."

Harper cuddled up, "I enjoyed your company too and I am really looking forward to spending a lot of time together." She kissed his cheek and felt him flinch ever so slightly. She looked in his golden eyes and saw worry. "Dylan something is troubling you. What is it?"

Dylan sighed at her words. He had been up most of the night thinking about his problem and 'what to do' about it. After the gruesome break up with Rita, he concluded Harper needed to hear about the 'deal-breaker' before their relationship evolved any further.

He looked into her large blue orbs, "Something is bothering me Lady Dove. I need to tell you what happened after the auto accident and what it did to—another part of me. I will gloss over some things, but when I finish you have a decision to make."

She immediately sat up. This wasn't a joke. Dylan was serious, very serious. She touched his beard and took his hand, "Talk to me, my sweet man."

Wisps of gravel-gray clouds oozed and billowed across the noontime sun, casting the park into a shadowy darkness that neither saw. Dylan, after a few anxious breaths, turned and faced Harper.

"When I was discharged from the hospital I wasn't myself, because of the many different medications I was on. Those meds had a profound impact on my moods and I as I've already told you, I wasn't a very nice guy to Mari." He paused, "Later I learned those meds had other side effects, which, umm, caused issues in other areas. Those problems were the catalysts that led to the divorce."

Harper flinched and Dylan took a sharp breath before he continued, "We tried the blue pills and I...I made a poor decision which put me back in the hospital for a few hours. That scared the shit out of me and Mari."

Dylan felt her grip tighten. "It was there I met Dr. Harb, a well-respected urologist, who after several tests discovered that the auto accident did more damage than was first thought—a lot of damage.

"I learned I couldn't–UGH!" Dylan suddenly cried out in pain. Someone had yanked him off the bench and tossed him onto the ground.

Harper, stunned, looked up and screamed, "Darnell! What are you doing here? Leave him alone!"

Dylan got to his hands and knees as Darnell yelled, "Get the fuck away from my fiancé you mother fucking asshole!!"

'Darnell? Fiancé??' What the hell is going on?'

Dylan regained his equilibrium and stood up. He ignored the dull throb in his leg and faced his attacker. Dylan immediately recognized Darnell. He had seen him yelling at Harper in the park four days after the mustard incident.

Darnell angrily moved towards him. Dylan flexed his arms.

Darnell stopped short and spat at Dylan, "Listen, mother fucker—Harper's my woman! My fiancé! Now tuck your tail between your legs and get the fuck outta here."

Dylan, stunned, turned and stared at Harper. She hadn't said a word except when she named his attacker. Her large blue eyes found his and there was fear in them.

'Is that fear for me, or fear of—being caught?'

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his attacker move. "Stop right there big man!" Dylan yelled. "I want some answers." Darnell opened his mouth to speak. Dylan stopped him immediately. "Not from you asshole. You just keep your mouth shut."

The big man immediately backed down.

Dylan turned and glared at Harper, "I need you to answer me one question. It's obvious you two know each other." Harper started to speak, but Dylan raised his hand. "Quiet—please let me ask my question."

Dylan calmed himself, "Is this man your fiancé?"

Harper put her head down.

"FUCK!" Dylan screamed, as thunder echoed in the distant.

End of Chapter 4

to be continued...