The Headmaster Ch. 03

I ponder his words in silence. I'm still kind of reeling. I'm curious about exactly what he has in mind.

He clears his throat and asks me, "Will you just say something, please?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"You could start by telling me how you feel."

"I didn't mean to fall in love with you," I proceed cautiously, here, "and I, uh, hm."

"Please don't apologize. I didn't mean to fall in love with you, either."

All the broken pieces of my world start to knit back together, but tears come anyway. We hold each other tight and say the things that lovers do: Stay with me. Stay with me. Don't let me go.

After a while he says into my hair: "I want you to marry me. I want you to be my wife."

"Yes. Yes. Now give me a Kleenex."

* * *

In the ladies' I plop down on the fainting-couch and catch my breath. I have washed my face with cold water. The little haven is a bit too pink for my taste, but it's nicely furnished. Ms. Carol Martin, the matriarch of the dojang, is there too.

"I figured you'd wind up here eventually," she says. Her voice is friendly.

"Here I am." The look on my face asks her what she wants to say. Just at that moment, my friend Laura finishes washing her hands. She gives me a big smile and a peck on the cheek. Then she leaves without a word.

"What's going on?"

Carol takes a deep breath. "We've all talked about it, and we want you both to be happy."

Suddenly I feel trapped. There is no safe way out of this conversation. "Ah — who is 'we'? —"

She puts her hand on my knee. "Will you just listen for a second?"

I nod.

"You weren't here when Ellen died, so you didn't see what we've seen. It took that man over a year before he was anything close to normal."

She pauses for a second, choosing her next words, and I just keep staring.

"And he's been like his old self again, these past few months. He's been smiling, and he's in a good mood. Don't," she says when I try to interrupt. "Do you think anybody with half an eye would miss the way you guys look at each other?"

"I guess not," I mumble.

"The black belts all discussed it yesterday—"

"Oh,, my,, god. Please tell me you did not just say that." Carol's husband is third dan. I smash my hand over my eyes. This is entirely mortifying.

"Stephanie, what I'm trying to tell you is that you have our blessing. Just go out there and dance with him. It's okay."

I take my hand away from my face. Tears are starting to sting. "You're not just playing some horrible joke, are you..." My head swims while I catch up with everything I've just heard. "All of the black belts?"

"Well," she purses her lips. She almost laughs. "You should have seen the look on Jake Burke's face."

* * *

When I finally emerge, he's waiting for me in the hall. "I was starting to get a little worried."

I take his hand. "Nothing to worry about."

He stops walking for a minute and has an idea. "Will you let me make the announcement?"

"Okay," I smile. The females all know anyway.

At the front of the room, my fiancé speaks to the disc jockey for a moment and takes the microphone. Whatever was playing fades out, and everybody looks. When the room is quiet, he only speaks three words. "She said yes."

The place erupts with applause and whistles as Frank begins to croon. All the other couples step aside.

When somebody loves you It's no good unless he loves you - all the way Happy to be near you When you need someone to cheer you - all the way

Taller than the tallest tree is That's how it's got to feel Deeper than the deep blue sea is That's how deep it goes - if it's real...

We barely move at all, just enough to call it dancing. But I find out, and I know now, what it means to be dancing on air.

* * *

Hours later, we make our way back to the house with the grey stone door. I know someday soon this will be where I live. My emotions are still so overwhelming.

He glides my cloak away from my shoulders and hangs it in the closet. He leads me toward the bedroom. A practical detail darts annoyingly into my thoughts.

"Wait."

"I already know. Don't worry about it."

I laugh and roll my eyes. "How do you know?"

He smirks. "Because you taste different when you're about to get your period. I'll meet you in bed."

* * *

Gently he unzips my gown and lets it drop to the floor. I fumble with the bow tie and he helps me figure it out. We unbutton his shirt.

It's different this time. We're still eager to touch one another. But there is an undercurrent of surety; neither of us is going anywhere. As long as we are alive, each of us can turn to the other, and find our mate by our side. As long as we both shall live.

The thought makes me choke up a bit and he hugs me. We finish getting undressed and he lays me down. He folds a towel in half and lays it under my bum. "Just lay back and let me do all the work." I smile and happily shrug my shoulders. "Okay."

He finds the baby oil and circles around my breasts. His fingers are steady and warm. My eyes close with pleasure. "Thank you," I sigh. Gently his tongue flicks a nipple and he makes a face. "This stuff tastes terrible!" he complains.

I giggle. "I could've told you that."

He kisses my abs and sticks his tongue in my belly-button. "Want me to do your feet?"

"Yes, please."

I stuff an extra pillow under my head and watch. He studies the sole of my foot as if trying to remember something. The he does something wonderful with his hands that makes me feel tremendously relaxed. He rolls the ankle bones.

My body feels better, and then some. My desire starts to cook. "Come here," I whisper. "Will you let me put some oil on your penis?"

I stroke on a palmful of oil. His erection grows in my hands. I swivel my hand around the tip and caress his balls.

He moans and reaches for me. "Easy." Carefully he sweeps his fingertips through my cleft. I make a noise, part pleasure, part pain. The pleasure wins.

I guide his hips with my hands. Cautiously he lowers his torso between my legs, keeping his weight off of me. "Slowly," I beg, and his entry is exquisite torture. Inch by shining inch he impales me. I start to whimper and my hips lift of their own accord.

The rhythm begins. My vaginal muscles clamp down hard and he groans. One of his fingers finds my clit, making me wiggle and squeal. My back arches and he thrusts into me faster.

The pounding gets to be too hard. I wince and he stops. He moves to dismount but I hold him. "Wait. Here."

I take the lead and guide him so we lie on our sides, facing one another. I loop my calf around to the small of his back. Obligingly he raises his knee. The hair on his thigh tickles my butt. My nipples take the call and look up to see what's going on.

This is much easier, much better. Seated in the half-straddle, I dance the hula, pleasuring myself on his granite rod. I sway and roll my hips in random circles and waves. An epiphany flashes through my mind -- I could have guided our limbs months ago. I get an inkling of empathy for my mate. Our bond grows a little stronger.

Rob is fluttering his fingers over my chest. He licks his thumb and rubs it over the pencil erasers. I reach down and finger my clit. Then I encircle his cock with my thumb and forefinger. The humping gets faster and more direct.

The waves begin to crest and slam into one another. Like a string of firecrackers my body goes off. The steady beat is broken as my hips jump around erratically. He pinches my nipple and a shot of adrenalin rocks through me again. Meaningless syllables jump from our lips.

In his passion he leans forward, pushing me onto my back, crushing me. He snaps out a sharp oath and fires -- again, again, four times. We yowl like a couple of cats. The magma rushes through my body. Our hips jerk a final time, first one and then the other. A moment of stillness hovers, waits, and fades.

Spent, he collapses on my chest, breathing hard. My nipples get cozy in his chest hair. Between my legs, the blood-pain starts to return. His voice from my neck is muffled. "Am I too heavy?"

I squeeze him in a light hug and give him a kiss.

"Only for now."

Please vote. Sincere thanks, L8Bloom.