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Subject: {Lysander}JDR"Grey 2"( MF rom slow )[3/3]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
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Grey
by Lysander
(lysander@bitsmart.com)
Part 2
I don't know how long we lay there, holding each
other, not speaking, but eventually I rolled away from
her. I was exhausted, but Grey got up on one shoulder
and looked down at me. She rubbed a little blood off my
upper lip with her thumb. I didn't feel any more leak
out, so there was no need to get up and clean my face
up. "Mark?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you mean what you said before?"
"What's that?"
"That you loved me?"
I thought back. Yeah, I had called her "the woman
I love," hadn't I? Had I stepped in it again? Would I
frighten her off if I told the truth? Would I drive her
away if I lied? Nothing for it but to hope.
"Yes, I meant it."
She considered for a moment, chewing on her bottom
lip. Then she flipped off the light, and I felt her
turn over. A few minutes later, I heard her whisper in
the darkness: "I love you, too."
I suppose I should have wondered what would happen
next. Would she come back with me, or go on to Seattle?
Why was she even in love with me? Was I some kind of
father figure for her to latch on to? I should have
wondered all those things, but I didn't. That night,
the knowledge that she loved me was plenty. I didn't
think about anything else, and fell asleep contented
with her back warm against my chest and my hand laying
lightly across her breast.
The next morning was oddly normal. Grey shook me
awake, telling me I was going to be late for my meeting.
It made me smile, but not until I was in the shower. I
stuck my head out of the curtain to shout an invitation
for Grey to join me. "Tomorrow," she said. "When we
have time." Then she flushed the toilet to make me
hurry.
I hurried my meeting as much as possible so I could
get back to the motel and Grey. When I got there, Grey
was packing. My heart stopped for a split second before
I realized she was packing both our bags. "Are we going
somewhere?"
"You've got a week before your next meeting,
right?" "Five days, yeah. In Tulsa." It was the longest
break I had.
"Well then, let's go somewhere!"
"Sure. Vegas? LA? The Bahamas? Paris?"
She giggled and slapped my arm. "Well, I've
always wanted to see the Grand Canyon?"
"The Grand Canyon it is."
So we drove to Tulsa, and took a flight to Arizona.
The immensity of it all was breathtaking: the canyon
and my feelings toward Grey. Intellectually, I realized
that what I was feeling was akin to a crush (at my
age!), and that my emotions would soon settle down. But
emotionally, I was flying.
We made love in the hotel all night the first night
there. Unfortunately, we couldn't find a room with a
good view, but we promised each other we'd rent some
equipment and go camping. We settled for day trips,
however. Night was for love on a soft bed.
One night, as we were lying in bed, afterwards, Grey
started talking. Not about anything in particular. The
canyon, and how mind-boggling it was that water could do
all that. Which got her to talking about the climate
back home, which got her onto the subject of home.
"I was one of those kids who was always feeling
ignored. But the thing was, I was actually satisfied
with things the way they were. I had my world and my
parents had theirs, and we didn't share them very much.
I used to think I didn't even love them. I used to
wonder how I would feel if they suddenly died, like in a
car accident. I suppose everybody thinks about things
like that when they're kids. But, when I was being most
honest with myself, I realized that, emotionally, there
wouldn't be that much effect on me.
"That sounds cold, doesn't it?"
I said nothing for a while, thinking the question
was rhetorical, but I could feel her waiting. "Yeah, it
does seem sort of cold, but I don't think it's all that
uncommon. I used to feel the same way about my brother.
It was like he was more a guy on the block instead of
flesh and blood. Now, I love the guy, though. It's as
though I couldn't get past the label of 'brother' until
I was old enough to appreciate him as a person."
She lay there, staring at the ceiling, digesting what
I had said. "Hey," I said. "You are going back to your
parents, after all."
"Yeah." But she didn't sound sure.
Her parents were the main subject of conversation
for the next few days. I got the impression that Grey was
debating out loud whether or not she actually wanted to
go to Seattle, to see her parents again for the first
time in years. Zigzagging across the west, her attitude
seemed to vacillate. It was nothing overt, but I could
pick up on it.
I was confused also. I really did love her, and I
wanted her to stay with me. But what if I were just a
substitute for her father, who had been distant all
those years? Would she leave me capriciously sometime
in the future when she realized that I wasn't what she
really needed? And if she did work out her feelings
toward her parents, would she leave me anyway, but much
sooner? I could be noble and say that the most
important thing was Grey's happiness, but it wasn't. I
wanted her to be happy, sure. But I wanted her to be
happy with me.
Naturally, I was unable to offer Grey any advice:
conflict of interest. Besides, while I was learning
more about Grey daily, her parents were almost a
complete mystery. All I had to go on were Grey's
descriptions of them. If I met them, I probably
wouldn't even know who they were.
++++++++++++++
Zoom ahead a week. I was falling more deeply in love
with Grey, and I thought she was feeling the same. She
had stopped talking about her family. She had either
made her decision, or was on the verge of making it. I
had no idea what the decision was, and it worried me.
Had she decided she didn't need me anymore? Had she
decided to go back to North Carolina with me?
We were in San Diego. The next day, I would be
heading back east, and Grey would be with me or we would
split up. The day had been particularly rough. The
client I had met was a recent acquisition, and I was
feeling him out. This was a toehold on the West Coast,
after all, where Silicon Valley is still king of the
hill. I was lying in bed, waiting for Grey to come out
of the bathroom. I suppose I was more tired than I
thought because I had fallen asleep. A noise -- I think
it was a sneeze -- had awakened me, but I couldn't see.
And I couldn't move my hands.
Shit. Something bad was happening. My stomach felt
like it wanted to empty itself immediately, and my heart
rate must have doubled. I could feel beads of sweat
literally popping out of my pores. I remember thinking
I was going to die. Either someone was going to murder
me or my heart was going to explode. I kept perfectly
quiet, like a kid who's heard a strange noise at night.
I strained my ears, trying to hear over my heartbeat if
someone hostile was in the room.
"Mark." Grey's voice, toneless.
"Grey? Is that you? Are you all right?" Whoever
had bound me might also have hurt Grey. I struggled against
whatever held me. For the first time I noticed that my
feet had been tied to the base of the bed.
"I'm fine, Mark. Everything's fine." I heard her
voice moving and I thought I could hear her footsteps on
the carpet.
"What's going on, Grey?" I was naked too, I could
feel.
"Do you trust me, Mark?"
"Huh? Of course I trust you. Can you untie me?"
"Not just yet. Why do you trust me, Mark?"
I was not in the mood for an interrogation. I knew
that nothing was seriously wrong, but I was still more
than a little scared by the strangeness of my situation.
"Untie me, please."
"Soon. Why do you trust me, Mark? I've got you in
a very vulnerable position. I could take everything you
have and leave you. What do you think would happen to
your business when everyone finds out about this?"
"What are you talking about? You wouldn't do
anything to hurt me. I know you." Did I?
"Why do you trust me, Mark?"
"Because I love you. And because you love me."
She was silent for a long time. I didn't hear her
move; I could barely hear her breathe.
When she spoke it nearly made me jump out of my skin.
"I'm going to remove the blindfold, but I'm not going to
untie you, yet. Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
She removed the cloth, which turned out to be one
of my own ties. I saw that my hands and feet had been tied
to the bed with two pairs of stockings. Grey stood
beside the bed completely nude. Not a stitch of
clothing, no make-up. Even her hair hung limply down her
back. Fine. She wanted to play a little game. Except
I couldn't get into it. I was as limp as a noodle, and
I was going to remain that way as long as I was bound
helpless.
"One time, Mark. One time, and I'll untie you,
and we'll never have to do this again. Just give me this
tonight."
No way. I was physically incapable, I knew, just
like I know I could never kick a puppy or climb Everest. It
just wasn't in me. "Okay," I lied.
Grey was tender, which was the last thing I expected,
all things considered. After all, I expected some kind
of bitch goddess who would break out the whips at any
moment. Instead, she lightly caressed my chest, playing
with the hairs on my chest. Her face was a study in
concentration. Something was going on inside her, and I
couldn't tell what. That made me nervous. My confidence
in her began to shrink. I'm ashamed to admit it, but the
plot of every female-psycho movie ever made flashed
through my head. It was only for an instant, but it
happened.
Grey's hand wandered down to my crotch. I was still
soft, and now my testicles had retreated upward into my
groin. Her cool fingers fondled me, and her expression
became, if anything, even more focused. She manipulated
my manhood expertly, and I began to react. It was only
physical, however. My penis began to get hard, but not
much. Unlike that first remarkable night, this time,
only my cock seemed to feel anything. As though it were
detached from me, it started to lengthen and enlarge,
but I felt nothing everywhere else.
With fingers and mouth, she worked on my cock, with
more success than I was comfortable acknowledging. It
was a unique feeling, lying there, knowing I was
responding physically, but being otherwise detached,
even a little sickened by it all. But Grey said she
needed this, and I would acquiesce to her, so long as it
was just this one time.
I've heard that a very few women who have been victims
of rape become physically aroused while they are being
assaulted. I don't know if that's true, but I imagine
it would just make the experience worse, being betrayed
by your own body. That's kind of how I felt as my penis
responded to Grey's touches. I'm a successful
businessman who built up his father's small company. I
don't drink or take drugs because the idea of giving up
control of my body absolutely terrifies me. And here I
was, getting hard while tied up, completely at the mercy
of someone else. It made me sick in my very guts,
despite my feelings toward Grey.
I was hard enough for Grey, I suppose, because she
climbed across my hips. She settled her buttocks across
my thighs and rubbed my slick cock along her slit. She
spit onto her fingers and rubbed the saliva into her
opening.
So. This was something besides sex, if she wasn't
even physically aroused as much as I was. My confusion
deepened. Grey raised herself up and pointed the head
of my cock up toward her entrance. Slowly, she eased
herself down on me. She was pretty dry, and the warmth
that surrounded my member didn't seem greater than
normal body temperature, either. She made slow rocking
motions with her hips as she moved slowly toward the
base of my cock. She stroked her clitoris, trying to
arouse herself. The room was quiet as a funeral. This
was bizarre.
Her masturbation must have produced the desired
feelings, because I felt Grey's inner walls begin to
moisten. Slowly, she rose and fell above me, riding me
luxuriously. Her eyes were closed, but there was no
passion on her face. She was concentrating on something
else. For her too, I realized, the sex was physical,
emotionless. This was something else. Except I didn't
know what.
For half an hour, she steadily stroked me with her
sex. It felt good, but empty. I noticed a tear leaking
from Grey's closed eye, down her barely-round left
cheek. God, I loved this girl. She was looking for my
help, asking for it without words. I wanted to give it
to her.
"I love you Grey. I love you." My voice was rough;
I was trying not to cry, too. It was all I knew to say.
I whispered it over and over again. "I love you. I
love you, Grey. I trust you. I love you."
Her upper body collapsed onto me. Her hands snaked
under my head and her tears flowed freely against my
cheek.
My own mingled with them.
Like magic, I began to respond to Grey's movements.
Not only my penis, but all of me. My breath caught in
my chest. My arms strained against their bonds, not to
escape, but to hold Grey in them. "I love you," I
murmured between kisses to her face.
Her nipples scraped across my chest as she moved back
and forth on top of me. I felt her lips on my neck and
shoulder, kissing me wetly. She wormed her arms
underneath me and clasped herself closely to me. Only
her hips and legs moved. She was warm against me, and I
felt her sobbing silently on top of me. I tried to
thrust myself into her, but I was too awkward.
"Let me," she whispered in my ear, her voice ragged.
I lay still and let her have complete control.
It took a long time, because there was so much going
on inside both of us. I loved Grey, I lusted after her
body, but there was still the core of fear and
self-loathing inside me. I had no idea what Grey was
feeling. It took a long time, but we began to approach
climax together.
When it happened, all the negative feelings drained
from me. All that was left was the love and trust. I
climaxed inside Grey. At the same time, she squeezed me
tightly, almost painfully. I felt her body tense with
mine. I felt her relax slowly atop me.
She untied me wordlessly, then turned off the light.
As she climbed into bed with me, she said, "I just had
to know for sure."
Know what? That I loved her? That I trusted her?
That she could take control in a relationship? All
three and more?
We made love in the dark for the rest of the night.
<HR>
When I woke up, I looked for it. I hoped I wouldn't
find it, but I did.
The note said: "I love you, Mark. I love you so
much I couldn't say goodbye. I'll be back. I love you."
The writing was firm and bold. Not even tear stains.
No, that would have been too cliched.
The next ten days were interminable. I had once
enjoyed these trips, a chance to get out and see the
country without feeling like the company was going to
hell without me there. But those ten days. If I hadn't
already made the commitments, I would have driven
straight back home, so I could live with my misery in
familiar surroundings. Every once in a while, my hand
moved to where Grey's knee would have been had she been
beside me. When I caught myself, I would move to adjust
to air conditioning, or tune the radio. Trying to
convince myself I didn't miss her as much as I did.
When I got back home, I didn't even go to my house.
I stopped at the library and pulled out the Seattle phone
book. There wasn't any listing for Grey's parents, not
even with just the initials. I went home and went to
sleep.
The phone woke me up. Yeah, it was her. Her voice
sounded light and happy. She was fine. It was like she
had never left home, better in fact. She was able to
open herself up to her parents, now. I had been right,
she told me; once she was able to get past the labels,
she was able to love them as people, and now she could
love them as her parents.
Then she said, "I miss you, Mark."
"I miss you, too. I wish you hadn't run out on me
like that."
"I know. But if I had stayed, you would have come
with me, and I could never have said goodbye."
"I didn't want you to say goodbye."
"I needed to do this, Mark. I needed to resolve
this."
"I know, and I'm glad you did, really, I am. But
I love you. I want to be with you. I want you to be with
me."
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
Then, she spoke again. "Forever?"
Forever. She was asking me if I loved her enough
to marry her, after only a few weeks together. Would one
of us tire of the other? She had found what she was
looking for, and now was wondering if she wanted more.
Did I want more, also? Again, I had to ask myself if I
really loved her.
"Yes. If you'll have me."
"Oh, Mark, yes. I want you. But can you wait a
month? I mean, I just got back home after so long. I
can't just leave again. And I don't want to leave yet.
Can you wait a month?"
Inwardly, I had to laugh at myself. I had been
fighting my feelings toward Grey ever since I had known
her. I had been unwilling to commit to anything in our
relationship. But now that I had made the commitment, I
found myself tranquil. The uneasiness, the depression
had fallen away when we both said yes.
"I can wait a month. A month can't be any longer
than the last ten days."
"I love you, Mark. I'll fly out in a month, and
no more running."
Copyright 1993 by Lysander
This story may not be archived at any site that would charge
for access to it.
This story may not be sold as part of any collection that
charges more than a nominal copying fee.
Otherwise, this story may be distributed freely by
electronic means as long as the title, my pseudonym and this
copyright statement are not changed or removed.
Grey
by Lysander
-30-
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