Love's Strange Course

When their lips touched, it almost seemed magical. Carrie forgot all about the feelings of depression that had begun to overtake her. All she was aware of now was the warmth and compassion of his kiss. She put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer, guaranteeing that this wasn't going to be another simple peck on the lips. The hand that had rested on her shoulder moved across her back, holding her tightly while his other hand slid around the small of her back. Turning slightly, Carrie slumped backwards, Ed moving with her, until she was lying diagonally on the sofa with her head resting on the arm and against the back. Ed was half on and half off of her, embracing her firmly.

The whole thing had an almost narcotic effect on her. She was lost in a sea of sensations; the closeness of him, his chest rising and falling against her, his erection pressing against her side, her tongue in his mouth, all combined to send her into a blissful state. She didn't know what was different about this kiss, but something was. She wanted more.

Their lips separated as he raised his head, she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"What the hell was that? What just happened?" His voice sounded confused.

Carrie didn't know what had happened and didn't care. All she knew was she didn't want it to end. The hand on his neck pulled him back down as she kissed him aggressively. She felt him respond, clutching her forceful. Neither knew exactly how long they remained like that; holding each other, lips pressed together, each lost in their own emotions, neither knowing what the other was thinking. But it had to end and it did. Again Ed raised his head up.

"Carrie, what're we doing? This has to stop."

"Why? Tell me why." Her voice was a breathy whisper.

"Because you've just been burned, and you can't cure a burn by jumping into the fire."

"You're right, I understand." In reality she didn't. She was feeling the sting of rejection and wanted no part of his hackneyed philosophy.

"We need time to think this over, a cooling off period." He kissed her forehead. "You have to be sure before we go any further. We have to wait."

With that he kissed her cheek, then oddly the tip of her nose. He wasn't sure why, so far as he knew a woman's nose wasn't an erogenous zone and he certainly had no nasal fixation. All he did know was it was a part of Carrie and it was close to his lips. That made it irresistible. Slowly they disengaged and sat up. Ed hugged her one more time. Then he held her face between his hands and kissed her forehead again.

"Trust me, it'll work better this way. We can't go rushing into anything. Let's sleep on it. I'll see you tomorrow at work."

He got up with visible reluctance and got ready to leave. Wordlessly, Carrie helped him with his coat and walked him to the door, her hand on the center of his back. He paused before went out.

It's better this way. Trust me Carrie, its better."

She merely nodded. When he left, she gently closed the door behind him. Placing her hands on the small of her back, she stretched and then walked back into the living room. Sitting back down on the sofa, she looked down at it. "Well, old couch," she said aloud, "You've seen a lot of drama in the last couple of weeks, haven't you?"

Then she leaned back, looking at the ceiling. She raised her forearm over her eyes as if she were blocking out the light.

"Oh Carrie, Carrie, Carrie," she spoke helplessly, "what're you doing to yourself?"

She lowered her arm and raised her head, staring at the wall, lost in her thoughts. A month ago she was a single, unattached woman on her own. Then Jimmy Roselli had come on to her and she'd offered herself up to him. He'd taken her up on the offer, and tossed her aside when she'd become inconvenient. Along comes Eddie Rakauskas and within days, she made him the same offer and he walked away from it. She wasn't sure why, whether she just wasn't his type, whether he still held the years of animosity between them against her, or perhaps even the fact that he knew about how she'd foolishly given herself to Roselli. Maybe she'd proven herself to be the aging slut he'd denied she was. She had, after all, thrown herself at the first two men that she'd thought were interested in her, this seemed to almost fit the definition of a tramp. Perhaps that's the way Ed had seen it. She didn't know.

She felt bad though, partly because of the pain of rejection; that was obvious. But also for having put Eddie in this position, he had just been trying to help her recover, to offer a little solace. She'd repaid him by making him choose between playing along with her and possibly hurting her in the future or rejecting her now and getting it over with. She felt like a world class selfish bitch. She noticed her half full wine glass sitting on the end table. She picked it up and drank it down. She picked up Ed's glass from the floor and emptied it. Then she went to bed.

The next morning at work, Ed's greetings were a little warmer than in the past, but still gave no indication of how he felt. She suffered in silence for the first few hours before deciding to face the matter head on.

"Would you like to come over tonight? Unless you've something else to do."

He looked up from his computer screen. "I'd like that, if you're sure."

"I am; about sevenish?"

"Good, I'll be there."

The conversation was terse and to the point, but she noticed when he returned to his computer screen he was smiling. Seeing this reassured her and she was relieved. She could feel her own smile spreading across her face as she went back to work. She was looking forward to seven o'clock. Before they left work Ed asked if he should bring something with him to eat. She hadn't thought about dinner.

"No, that's all right. I can make something if you want. I'm a reasonable cook."

"Oh, no, I don't want to make work for you. I'll stop somewhere on the way home."

"OK then," she spoke tentatively, "I'll see you later?"

"Count on it." He buttoned his overcoat and headed out to the parking lot.

She figured he was heading to the bar that he'd taken her to earlier in the week. It seemed to her that it was a bad omen when a guy wanted to start drinking before he came over for a visit. Thinking of the bar reinforced the fact that six days earlier she had no use for him, today she was worried about whether he liked her or not. A lot had changed in the course of a five day work week. She had no idea of how it would end but she was anxious to find out.

A snow was falling when she heard his knock. When she opened the door he came in holding a pizza, he set it on the kitchen table and took off his jacket. Holding it over the sink he brushed the snow off of it before asking where to hang it.

"I know you said not to bring anything, but it just didn't seem right. We could eat it now, save it for later, or you can freeze it. That's the good thing about pizza, it's got staying power."

Hanging his jacket in a closet, she looked back over her shoulder. "I think I'd like a slice now while it's still warm, we'll see what to do with the rest later. How're the roads by the way? It looks like it's really coming down."

"They're covered, it looks like we're going to get an accumulation. But it's Friday, we don't have to go in tomorrow." "Yeah, that's true. I think a glass of wine would go good with that pizza. Care to join me?"

"Sounds good."

She got two glasses down from the cupboard and set them on the table. Retrieving last night's half full wine bottle, she filled them and sat down. She wondered to herself what tonight was all about. After her experience with Jimmy, she had to think that it was possible she was just another booty call that was being passed along from one smooth operator to another. She found that idea disgusting. Then she remembered last night's interrupted passion, it seemed something had gone on between them that was much more than mere sexual arousal. She wasn't sure what that might have been, but she wanted more of the same.

"So tell me Ed, you had a night to sleep on things, what're your thoughts on last night?" Her bluntness surprised even her.

"No," he set the crust of his pizza down and took a sip of wine, "I'm not the one who needed a time out. Do you really think I didn't want you last night? I didn't sleep on anything; I tossed and turned for hours thinking about you, wondering if I did the right thing. You were like a ghost in my bedroom. But you were rebounding from a bad experience. If you were just looking for another guy to fill the void, that wouldn't be fair, not to either of us. I wanted you to sleep on it, not me. It's your thoughts that count."

"Well you didn't say anything at work this morning, so I was concerned you might have had second thoughts."

"No, no I didn't. I didn't think the office would have been good place to talk about it. Besides, I didn't want it to look like I was pushing things. I'm not Jimmy Roselli, I'm not here to take anything."

Son of a bitch, was all she could think, the sensitive type. He'd hidden it well all these years. She found it to be a pleasant surprise. She wondered what else there was about him that she had not noticed before.

"You have to understand," she said pleasantly, "the man I was going to bed with dropped me when he found out I made dinner reservations for Valentine's Day. Then ON Valentine's Day I wind up making out with a different guy who I invited to go to that dinner and he runs out the door. You can see why I'm so confused, can't you?"

Ed stood up without saying anything and walked over to her chair. She looked up at him, not sure of what was about to happen. She felt his fingertips under her chin, keeping her head in place as he bent over and kissed her. Her reaction was slightly delayed, a brief pause before she responded with a soft groan, pressing her lips against his. One hand went to the back of her chair, the other to the table top as she slowly and awkwardly rose to her feet without their lips separating. She draped her arms over his shoulders and flattened herself against him as he embraced her. The slow motion of her hips against him left no doubt about her intentions. She didn't know how long they stood there clinging to each other before she eased herself back from him slightly. Looking at him with a crooked, saucily inviting smile that, combined with her deep breathing and heavy lidded eyes, gave her an alluring sensuous look.

"Do you think we need to sleep on this any longer?" Her voice was low and calm.

"I don't if you don't," he kissed her again.

They stood there holding each other, the unseen interplay of their tongues the only physical motion. Inwardly they were both seething with emotions. But there was a strange calm enveloping Carrie, unlike the nervous energy of last night. All the same sensations and passions of the previous evening were there, but were somehow softened and more comfortable.

The desires were just as strong, but she felt much more confident in herself, more in control. Her new found feelings for Ed had become clear to her; in focus. Jimmy had just been a warm up, a practice for this night. She understood what she wanted and was going to make it happen; she would not be denied.

When the kiss ended, Ed asked, "Why don't we go and sit down?"

Carrie knew what to do, without speaking she smiled coyly and took him by the hand, and led him slowly down the hall to her bedroom. She had instinctive stumbled on to something; her silence was giving her the appearance of mystery and allure, the slow deliberate movement that of worldly sophistication. Ed followed complacently, she was in charge. Entering the bedroom she turned on the light.

"There're condoms on the dresser," she spoke for the first time. She watched as he walked over and picked up the package.

"Ribbed, for your pleasure, I assume. You like this kind?"

"Eh," she shrugged, "actually there were ones that I had laying around, just in case. I never cared for them."

"Roselli's leftovers?" She nodded shyly. "Don't need them, unless the ribbing is an added thrill for you. Brought my own; sheer."

"Use yours," she said softly.

Her façade of worldliness, however, was crumbling as she spoke. In one last effort to regain it she reached to the light switch, it was a dimmer. Adjusting the light to a low level so the room was dark, but they could still see, she started to undress. She got down to her underwear when the act fell apart.

Standing there in her bra and panties while Ed was fully dressed, she felt foolish; this wasn't her, she wanted a do-over, a chance to be herself. She felt like a damned whore. Sheepishly she stopped the striptease, walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. His remark about not needing Jimmy's leftovers haunting her.

He sat next to her and put an arm around her, his free hand went to her lap and took one of hers, fingers entwined. He raised it up and pressed the back of it against his chest, over his heart. She looked at him gratefully; he had restored her sense of comfort and ease rather deftly.

Once again they kissed, once again the feeling of calm pleasure returned. Carrie wasn't sure why, but there was something happening, this was unexplainably different. She could feel an excitement growing in her that she hadn't felt in a long time, if ever. Perhaps only in the early days of her marriage had she experienced it.

They sat there with lips pressed tightly, she felt him release her hand so he could fully embrace her. Finally his hands moved across her back to the clasp on her bra, unhooking it. She pushed the shoulder straps off and dropped away, all without breaking the kiss. When their lips parted from each other he moved his head over, kissing her neck and eventually her throat. A hand went to her breast, gently stroking it. Her own hand covered his, pressing it tighter against her. She was again pleasurably lost in a sea of erotic sensations, it was more than merely a hand on her breast or his lips on the hollow of her throat. It was the feeling she was desired by this guy; all of her, in all ways, not just sexual. When his hand drifted away from her breast, her own hand fell to her lap. She waited in anticipation as his moved in its downward journey, pausing briefly to rub her belly before plunging behind the waistband of her underpants. Carrie slumped against him, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she savored his tender caresses to her soft, sensitive inner flesh. There was no perception of being felt up or groped, just that of loving attention to her personal being. If he chose to go no farther, she might have been content to stay like this for however long it took for her to get off. But he had every intention of going farther.

Ed gently straightened her up and then eased her back on the bed. As he began to undress, Carrie was struck by the familiarity of the situation. Once again she was lying back waiting for a man to disrobe; same situation, different man, hopefully different results. Ed finished undressing and with condom applied, his attention returned to Carrie. He helped her peel her panties off, then ran his hand from her hips up her body, over her breasts to her shoulders and back down again. He repeated this twice more, then leaned over and kissed her. Carrie's wait was over.

Her eyes closed, she felt him probing lightly before he entered her, slowly and steadily. There would be no wild gyrations as there had been with Jimmy, like a dancer, she would follow her partners lead and go where he went. She found this slow and tender love making to be almost unbearably exquisite. She had often thought of sex as two people struggling against each other to achieve gratification; this was more like they had joined together as one entity, functioning jointly towards a mutual end. If sex with Jimmy was an emotional release for her, this was something higher; a transcendent bonding. His every movement within her was driving her blissfully towards a sort of sexual Nirvana. Literally shivering with ecstasy, she clung to him tightly, hoping he was experiencing the same thing she was. Lost in orgasmic bliss, Carrie hoped it would never end, but knew full well it would and soon. When the finish arrived, she tried to deny it, holding him with her arms and legs, preventing his withdrawal. She didn't want to lose the sublime feeling of oneness with him.

She didn't know how long she held him like that before she gave up and relaxed her grip, allowing him to get off of her. He kissed her again, this time conveying all the passion of before, but without the desperation. As their lips pressed leisurely and affectionately together, Carrie was sure this had been more than some simple copulation; they'd made love. It was hard to believe they'd only been on friendly terms for a few days after years of animosity.

Carrie lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, calming down while mulling through her thoughts. None of this made much sense to her. A week ago she'd thought she was in love with Jimmy, tonight she had the same feeling about Eddie. Was she becoming one of those pitiful women that thought every idiot with an erection who was looking for a place to stick it was in love with them? No, if she was she wouldn't be aware of that possibility. Maybe it was like Eddie had said, she'd been fooled and, being eager for love, hadn't realized it. Then, by pure coincidence, the man who offered her some comfort turned out to be the one she was meant to be with in the first place. It was all confusing to her, but very possible.

She wanted to tell him how she felt, but to be talking about love after one work week, one roll in the hay, just didn't seem normal. But nothing about the last month seemed normal. Perhaps, she thought to herself, love isn't supposed to be normal. The mattress moved as he lay back down beside her. She decided to approach things directly. Shifting over on her side, facing him with her head on the pillow she smiled.

"When you said you didn't need Jimmy's leftovers, you didn't mean me, did you?"

"Oh, hell no, how insecure are you? I was talking about his lame assed rubbers. I'm surprised they weren't neon colored. I'd have had bad visions about what he was going to put inside the damned thing anyway."

"Who's insecure now? I don't know what to say about the last part of that statement, all things considered. I mean, you know." She patted the side of her pelvis then, stifling a laugh, looked at him.

"Christ, I'm getting in deeper and deeper," he laughed. "If I give you a kiss, will you shut the hell up and stop talking about Jimmy Roselli?"

"Try it and we'll see." She closed her eyes as he moved closer and kissed her, but she didn't quite change the subject.

"I was just wondering if it bothered you that I was involved with him so recently."

"No, in fact I'm kind of glad."

"Really? How so?"

"I don't mean the part about you getting hurt, not exactly anyway. But if it hadn't of been for him and his bullshit, we wouldn't be here together now. I might just buy him a bottle of single malt scotch as a thank you."

Carrie felt a surge of relief, that statement had told her where she stood with him; he was glad to be with her. It may not be a proclamation of love, but it was a start, a chance, and that was all she wanted. Sitting up in the bed, she looked down at him.

"Enough of this, the only leftovers I want to talk about now is that pizza you brought. Come on."

She got up and went over to the dresser and fished out a clean pair of underwear, put them on and grabbed a terrycloth bathrobe from the closet. Wrapping it around herself she headed out into the living room. Taking the pizza box she went over to an electric space heater she had in the corner of the room, one that was designed to look like a fireplace. She set the pizza down on the floor in front of it and turned it on. Eddie emerged from the bedroom after putting on his jeans and tee-shirt as she was gathering up the wine bottle and their glasses.