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I am your Angel
Parker was standing next to her car outside her house. it was now nearly four months since hw was gone, since Jarod escaped. Four months in which she hasn’t had the chance to see him, not like before, through all the cameras in his cell, and the hidden ones in his bedroom and bathroom. Nobody had known that they were still there, well hidden. She had installed them herself there, alone.
It was four months since her life had changed completely, 180 grades.
Today Mr. Raines had yelled at her in a way nobody before had yelled at her and she nearly busted into tears, but this wouldn’t make a good picture of her in front of this tyrant.
Than this goof of Broots had starred at her a little too long. She got nervous and called him bad names. The whole situation made her more than uncomfortable. Sydney shouldn’t had to do this, this was her personal opinion, she told herself this more than twice a day and somehow she shouldn’t be doing this either. She had been his only friend over all these years of isolation, his only relationship to a “normal” child. And than he had been her first big love, not just such teenage nonsense, no, it had been more for her, much more. But just for her, she assumed.
Today this yell of Raines had been too much for her. She had to go to the bathroom not to cry in public. It had been her first real breakdown in ages, the first one since he was gone. But this time it was her secret.
She put the bag of grocery out of the trunk and headed to the front door, unlocked it slowly went in. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be in their alone, on her own. Alone. It was also isolation, her personal one, and it made her mad and sad. Sometimes she was really angry about herself, than about the whole world, and angry that he was gone without saying goodbye.
After putting the bag into the kitchen Parker headed upstairs to change into something more comfortable. It was just 5 in the afternoon but she was tired and powerless.
In the bedroom she slowly unbuttoned her dress jacket, made of expensive import silk. She was standing in front of her big mirror. Parker’s outfit was in crème coloured today, the shoes in black, 7 and a half inches high. After a couple of seconds she started to unzip the mini skirt, let it fall to the floor. Now she was standing there, in a black lace corsage, matching string, garter and stockings.
She stood there studying her body carefully, her eyes noticed the way the cups of the corsage hugged her breasts perfectly. Slowly she started to unhook the corsage in front, leisurely each by each. Her belly was flat and muscular, her skin perfectly white like milk. The next move let her undo the garter from the stockings and she peeled them of, little by little.
It had been long since a man had touched her long and firm legs – long if it comes to Parker’s calendar.
She needed sex in a way to control herself, a way to forget the Centre, to forget what was happening. How many days now without a minute to forget?
A couple of minutes later she was standing there, the same place, nude. Parker tried to remember how male hands had touched her skin. She missed it! But on the other hand, there had never been a stable relationship, never. Most of the time it just had been intercourse – a game of in and outs without needing the need of trust. Faith had never made its way to her bedroom, never been connected with love. Love? Had she ever been in love again?
Her fingers slowly trailed over the two scars on her belly – one ovarian the other appendix, both on the same side.
The ovarian still hurt her, personally, deeply inside herself. She stopped feeling like a woman, stopped feeling complete.
It was a couple of months now that she had stopped to eat birth control pills. She told herself that she was eating them for too long now, without a sense behind. Parker had started to take them after her third abortion, yeah three. Three! She has had the first one at 16, than one at 21 and her last at 25. Too many things let her regret this now, but there were still enough reasons not to feel like a woman. Anymore. Not a woman who should give birth to a baby. She characterized herself not as a woman who should become a mother. Parker told herself that she doesn’t know anything about kids or how to raise them.
She was 26 when her gynaecologist told her that there was a big cyst on her right ovarian, and it could be malignant so that they would have to remove it. How often had she told herself that this wasn’t the world, that she could still have kids, the other one was working fine! How often had she asked herself if this wasn’t god given and she should maybe take it as a sign from above! But how often had she asked herself if her life would allow her to raise children. Her life and her surrounding.
And now its four months since she’d seen him, four long months! She was thinking of him, nearly every night.
Through most of her relationships she’d let the males take her from behind, not to see their faces, to imagine that they could be somebody else. That these hands would belong to another face, to another body. That sex could turn into making love – at least in her vivid dreams.
Parker’s dream world – this was another chapter! Sometimes she was just dreaming of somebody to lean against, putting her head on his shoulder while he would tell her stories. Or to be hugged and kissed after returning from her mother’s grave. Just that somebody would be at home, waiting for her. Somebody to dine with in candlelight, to sip a glass of wine with in front of the fire place. And than somebody to spoon with at night, a chest to wake up at.
Too many dreams!
One hand on her hip, she let the other one slowly cup her left breast, feeling her heartbeat.
Once during her early teenager years, she had told Jarod that she would dream of being more female attributes - in a very cryptic way of course, she was just 13. She told him later that she would dream of having a little more breast because the other girls in her class were able to fill their C-cups well and she was jealous with her soft As. And Jarod? He just smile at her and told her that they fit the proportions of her petite body perfectly. That every bit more would be out of proportion. Today, so many years later, she was able to fill a B cup very well. Most of the men she’d been with didn’t show much attention to them. Just Parker herself knew how sensitive they were, and how much they wanted to be touched gently.
Dreams, just dreams!
Another couple of minutes passed before she opened the clip in her hair, to let them fall on her shoulders in a wild cascade. They were longer now and as dark as her mothers.
But not she realised what she was doing, headed to her bed and grabbed the PJ from under the pillow.
~*~
It was rare to see Parker cooking but today she decided to cook, for herself – fish in white wine sauce with potatoes, nothing spectacular.
Many times she’d told Jarod that she would like to cook for him when they were kids and she knew that he would like to eat fish. She loved fish.
Normally she would never cook just for herself, never for just one person, because it was too sad – sitting alone at the kitchen table, alone in candle light. Her dining room table wasn’t in use anymore, for years now it was more a place to collect the dead flowers ex lovers sent in the morning after. Tons of dead roses in nice vases were sitting there, waiting to be thrown away or something else. But nobody cared for them, as much as nobody ever cared for Parker.
For one birthday Jarod had given her a rose, made of paper, by his own hands. This one was in the jewellery box her mother had given her at her seventh Birthday together with a necklace she wasn’t wearing anymore – a golden one with a cross on it.
She’d put it into the box, next to the rose, after her abortion aged 25 . Many small things were hidden in this wooden box with the ballerina on it, things which reminded her on her happier days, the innocent years, but they started to go when she turned sixteen.
Parker hasn’t open the box in a very long time, maybe two or three times, to add several things. Gifts which reminded her to the days, the days which were gone, forever.
Today her oldest child would be a teenager itself. A teenager – and this depressed her deeply. A teenager, a creature and person of its own. But she had decided against the miracle.
Today, so many years later, she regret these decisions, all three of them but she hasn’t made it easy for herself, not once. And the last one was the reason to become the Ice Queen, she hasn’t been like this forever. No.
Slowly she let the wine run to the fish and sat down at the kitchen table.
The first one had to be done because nobody was allowed to know what had happened. She wouldn’t have been able to explain it.
Parker had been sixteen, sweet innocent sixteen when she went with Robby, a friend of hers, to an American Football came. He had asked to drive her home and she had agreed, innocently. She couldn’t know that he wanted more than just to say goodbye, or an innocent kiss on his cheek. He’d gotten what he wanted, just without asking her, just without her agreement. Robby was a Football player, he didn’t need to ask girls to have fun with them, he just took them. Maybe Parker had been to innocent to see that, maybe she was not prepared to meet a guy like this in her early years, or ever? So he had gotten what he wanted, pressing the small frame of her deeply into the car seat. Her eyes had been opened, her mouth too, unable to scream. She was too much shocked of his action to fight it. He was so much stronger and taller than she was. He had gotten his dream without asking her, without waiting for an answer. Nobody was allowed to knew it, it would have been her ruin and his. She couldn’t tell Jarod or Sydney, they wouldn’t believe her – she thought.
She was afraid and just sweet sixteen. She had been in New Mexico two days after it turned out that she was pregnant.
The second time at 21 wasn’t really voluntary. Parker had thought the first time that she would really love somebody else – Gregory. They were a couple for about five months when she noticed that she was in joy. She had planned it, planned how to tell him, to surprise him. And she surprised him, yes she did.
Parker went to Greg’s flat, unlocked the door. It was the first time she’d gone to his flat without calling him. And there she met him, but not only him. She caught him in flagranti, a blond girl riding the brain out of him.
She thought that it was maybe the best to caught him right before it was too late.
Two days later she had her appointment in New Mexico.
And the third time was obviously the hardest for her. The pregnancy had been an accident, not planned. The matter of fact she couldn’t remember any act of penetration during the last weeks because she had set an out time after an operation at her knee. Every move hurt badly. But she was pregnant, two months no period, morning sickness – all symptoms were there.
This third time she was so far to give in, to give birth, becoming a mother. But for her it had been too important, to be able to give the child a perfect family – a father and a mother. However Parker hadn’t a clue who the father was. Her last intercourses had been save.
So she went to New Mexico again, with tears in her eyes – this time.
She told herself maybe too often that she wasn’t a lovely person, a woman who should have children, somebody to give love.
Today you can find a small box of books under her bed, dealing with motherhood and pregnancy. She hid them well, being afraid that she would never have a use for them again.
Parker turned the fish and sipped on her glass of white wine, a soft Riesling, soft and European, standing next to her cooking meal.
How many times she’d found out that a boyfriend just used her, just wanted a quick number in be, maybe more than one.
Money had never been a topic for her. She’d maybe been in a boarding school but was living in her own apartment near the campus. Boys liked her sport cars, especially the fire red corvette, very other than that. And of course they liked her expensive lifestyle, her way to dress and to go out.
Parker has always had what she wanted and what she needed but never somebody who really cared for her.
It was said that she was easy to get – just a couple of nice words, flowers and a puppy look and you could get everything from her, maybe a date or two if it was the wrong time of the month.
But on the other hand it was said that she was a passive lover - males got what they wanted, at least most of them. She was a girl who nearly made every dream true, nearly everything but not everything.
You couldn’t get her to scream your name nor that she really touches you cordially. She had been a good girl, blowjobs were in common because this wasn’t a thing a woman could be able to scream a name – nearly impossible. Screaming their names?
If she was coming, without touching herself during the act, than she was moaning but as good as never screaming. Many males just wanted to fuck, they didn’t care if she was satisfied or not. Egoistic male world. Many of the males also wanted an active who wasn’t just laying their under them, letting them do whatever they wanted.
Often she hasn’t had a clue about the betrayal since they split up or told her that the would be somebody else. The first time these conflicts ended very emotionally but with the years she got used to it and started to use the male being on her own – but never with such a lot of success.
Her fish was finished, so the potatoes. She peeled them and sat down with her dish – a glass of Riesling next to her, the candle in front.
“This is exactly what I was looking for,” she noticed a voice from behind, turned around and there he was. He was there, standing in the frame of the kitchen door, smiling at her.
His hair seemed to be wet, maybe it was raining outside, and his warm leather jacket hang loose on his male shoulders.
“What are you doing here Jarod?” she asked him and stood up, went through the kitchen and was now standing in front of him, smiling back at him. She didn’t need him to answer this, he just went a step into her direction and started to hug her tightly.
“Its good to know that you are fine Jarod.” she whispered and pressed her face next to his, her chin touching the collar of his shirt.
“Its good to feel you” Jarod returned and tightened his hug. They would have been able to stand like this for ages, centuries maybe longer.
“You could have called before, so I would have cooked a third and fourth piece for you Jar.” she said amused on her way to the stew, where the rest of the meal was waiting to be eaten.
“I couldn’t and you know that Sarah, better than I do.” He responded and stopped directly behind her, hugging her from behind.
“Jarod, believe me I wouldn’t have called the Sweepers.” she whispered, letting him hug her, letting his hands dance on her belly.
“You would because you know what would happened if you wouldn’t. But lets not speak about this now Sarah.”
“Okay, your meal is finished,” she said and went away from him, his plate in her hand, in the other one a fresh white wine glass and headed to the table.
They sat down next to each other, like old friends, not rivalries or enemies.
How often had she wished for a moment like this with a guy? How many times she just prayed for a fucking normal life, being a normal woman, having a normal job and an ordinary past.
She wanted a normal life with a normal relationship towards males, but this didn’t seem to be god given in her case.
With a couple of guys she had tried it but all the time it showed her that she wasn’t built for it, that her emotions weren’t like the ones from a normal woman. She was different. She was complicated and aggressive, ignorant and egoistic – she was different in comparison to other women.
When they’d finished their meals, she put the dishes into the dishwasher. She wasn’t looking at him, just staring at the dirty dishes. Suddenly she felt him behind her. She felt him pressing her against the counter, pressing his body into hers.
“I missed you,” Jarod whispered into her ear before he started kissing her exposed neck. “Missed you all the time.” He was placing more kisses on her collar bone. Slowly she turned around, still between the counter and him. Parker felt his warmth, his body around her somehow and she felt Home.
“I missed you too Jarod, I can't tell you how much.” Parker said with the knowledge that it wouldn’t take them long to start kissing. Has he had any physical contact since he survived?
“Let me hold you tonight Parker I would really love to hold you, like we did many years ago. I need this Parker, please.”
It was obvious that he wouldn’t have had to ask so sincerely to get what he wanted, but she loved to hear his voice, to fell his moisture breath against her skin.
This kiss now was everything but far away from a kiss you share between friends. After just a short touch of their lips the connection deepened and their mouths opened in similarity to take the other tongue deep, to welcome it home.
Jarod was just moaning when he pressed Parker harder into the wooden counter of the kitchen furniture. Thanks god that there wasn’t anything above the drawer. Slowly he forced her to get on the counter. It maybe took a minute, maybe an hour, it wasn’t important anything anymore. Nothing was important which was happened around them, just these two and their actions were.
The moment she was sitting on the working space, he stepped between her legs and put his body the crotch of her pyjamas. She could feel that he felt hot against her. His arms slowly trailed around her shoulders, one slowly moving down to her waist. Jarod was staring at her, waiting for an answer. Parker? She was just smiling happily, waiting for his next move and this would be to kiss her again. Instead he started to lick the way from her collarbone to her ear,
“I don’t want this to happen in the kitchen Jarod” she whispered and pressed her lips against his cheek, “I want this to be perfect and nothing else.”
God how often had she thought about this, about him and her together, about how it would be. Maybe it started when she turned into a teenager or maybe even earlier but she couldn’t remember. He had always been one of her best friends, the only friend she could relay to and trust in all cases, expect this one.
Sure she has had a couple of other friends, tried to give them the same position like Jarod but it never worked out. Most of the time they used her lovely and innocent way to deal with things and hurt her in the end with not trusting her in return but it had always been different with Jarod, always. She knew that she could trust him with her heart and her soul and every other part. Maybe that’s the way why she had started to deepen her feelings for him long ago, why no man ever gained the same access to her soul and her feelings. Maybe, but who could know it?
It only took them a couple of seconds till they stepped over the bedroom floor. Parker wasn’t as nervous as Jarod was. She had noticed that his hand was slowly shaking into hers. What was it?
Parker stopped in front of her bed, turning around, facing him.
How often had she dreamed of a situation like this?
“Don’t be shy Jarod, I wont bite,” Parker joked around. Jarod just slowly made step into her direction, very slowly. He was taking his time and she wasn’t able to realise why.
“I wont be good in this Parker.” he whispered and blushed softly.
“Why?” She asked shyly “Don’t even dare to say something like that to me.” She stared at him and he went to the window, not being able to face her.
“Its not that I know it Sarah its just that I have never been with a woman before.”
That was it, she thought, he was a male virgin and he came to her to take this gift from him. Within a minute Parker had joined him at the window, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Don’t be afraid Jar its not hurting.” she said and smiled into his back.
She had never dreamed of this, never allowed herself to spend a thought on this – that this gorgeous man could be a virgin!
“Turn around Jarod and kiss me … now!” she demanded.
Slowly he turned around like she wished and now she was the one who was pressing another body – his body into the window.
“You can't be bad Jarod, never, because its you and not the sex I was dreaming of.” she revealed.
And they were kissing again, deeply open mound kisses with lots of tongue involved. She loved the taste of him, a little white wine and a little salt from the fish and lots of Jarod in it. Slowly he started to tighten his grip on her, pulling her into him. Her body felt small against his, even if it wasn’t this way.
They were making their way backward to the bed, where she sat down in front of him. His hands were resting on her shoulders, waiting for a move from her side. On the other hand his was making small circles on the skin under her ear, driving her crazy. She hasn’t been aroused like this for a man in a very long time but this wasn’t an ordinary man, this was Jarod, her Jar.
Her hands moved to his belt and unbuckled it, their eyes still connected. Parker was smiling at him when she started to unbutton and unzip the slacks. Jarod was just standing there, his hands still on her shoulders.
It didn’t took her long to free him from the slacks and let them fall on the floor. He was just standing there in his short and the boxershorts he was wearing - black silk with small green men on his. Cute.
After letting his boxers join the his shirt on the floor, somewhere at the end of the bed.
How often had Parker dreamed to see him naked standing in her bedroom, more than just once? And now it happened, he was there, a virgin. Jarod her Jar, nobody else, just him here in her bedroom. She couldn’t believe it – believe that childhood and teenager dreams come true.
His hands were still on her shoulders and she dressed in her pyjamas.
“You are beautiful” she said and smiled at him when her hands trailed down from his collar bone to his navel, not noticing his rigid erection. Parker was smiling. Slowly she started to unbutton her own pyjama top, slowly, not wanting to ruin the moment. She was feeling that she was ready for him, more than ever before for a man. The moment the top glided from her shoulders, before his fingers trailed over her collar bone, softly touching her skin as it would be silk.
During the next minutes they studied each others body before he helped her out of the bottoms of the pyjamas and laid her down.
“You can't know, Sarah, how long I wanted to hold you like this” he said before he laid down next to her, their heads resting on the pillows, one hand under her head, the other around her waist. “It feels to good to be true.” he whispered the moment he started to kiss his way down her arm, before he started to place soft kisses on her belly, kissing every millimetre there. “You are so beautiful” he said when his lips were near hers. “Kiss me” she begged and he did – long open mound kisses, tongues dancing around.
“I want you inside of me Jarod” she whispered the moment they broke for air. “I haven’t done that before… never …. “ he said, his voice trembling. “You can't do something wrong,” she started to explain, “you are a big boy, I noticed that and it had been a while for me but you wont hurt me, I am really sure about that and I really would want it to happen.” Parker finished and let one hand of hers stroke his cheek, the other grab his erection.
He was a big man, probably a little over 9 inch long and big around but she knew that she would take it without any pain because she wanted this to happen. It would hurt physically but emotionally it was exactly what she had dreamed of for years.
But before he entered her, he spent a long time at her breast, kissing and suckling them, teasing and loving them – till she begged him to stop. Somehow he just grinned at her, a boyish grin.
Slowly, remembering her words before, he entered her. He wouldn’t have been able to take it any longer, he hasn’t ever felt this hard . Slowly, very slowly, inch by inch. He studied her face and noticed her moan when he was half way into her. This was a sign for him to wait a minute, and when she relaxed he went completely into her. “God this is warm and tight in there” he mumbled.
“Be my Angel Sarah” he whispered and kissed he cheek.
“I am your Angel, Jar.” she said and gave him the sign to move. They sat up a slow rhythm, before he started to get faster. “Its … not … that… hard… isn’t … it” Parker said during moaning and groaning. She had told him so much during the last seconds without using any words. He didn’t need to hear the words “I love you” because he’d seen her chest blush and than her cheeks before she climbed the heights of her orgasm and screamed his name.
She knew that he wasn’t a lot behind her and grabbed his shoulders, slowly pulling him down on her before they turned around and she was on top. He loved his view, she had noticed his big goofy grin when she started to move. Jarod was moaning instantly and Parker herself wasn’t far away from a second orgasm.
He started to scream her name, waving her hips further into her. She moaned with him and rid him through his whole orgasm. She felt him unloading inside, and she liked the feeling.
Later, the cuddled a little and spooned up to fall asleep.
“I came into you Sarah and you didn’t seem to care.”
“I don’t care that’s right Jarod, I don’t care…..” she whispered.
“We didn’t use any protection, didn’t we?”
“No, should we use something ?”
Jarod turned her around to face him, he was smiling and she smiled back. No word was said, not this night.
THE END
Parker was standing next to her car outside her house. it was now nearly four months since hw was gone, since Jarod escaped. Four months in which she hasn’t had the chance to see him, not like before, through all the cameras in his cell, and the hidden ones in his bedroom and bathroom. Nobody had known that they were still there, well hidden. She had installed them herself there, alone.
It was four months since her life had changed completely, 180 grades.
Today Mr. Raines had yelled at her in a way nobody before had yelled at her and she nearly busted into tears, but this wouldn’t make a good picture of her in front of this tyrant.
Than this goof of Broots had starred at her a little too long. She got nervous and called him bad names. The whole situation made her more than uncomfortable. Sydney shouldn’t had to do this, this was her personal opinion, she told herself this more than twice a day and somehow she shouldn’t be doing this either. She had been his only friend over all these years of isolation, his only relationship to a “normal” child. And than he had been her first big love, not just such teenage nonsense, no, it had been more for her, much more. But just for her, she assumed.
Today this yell of Raines had been too much for her. She had to go to the bathroom not to cry in public. It had been her first real breakdown in ages, the first one since he was gone. But this time it was her secret.
She put the bag of grocery out of the trunk and headed to the front door, unlocked it slowly went in. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be in their alone, on her own. Alone. It was also isolation, her personal one, and it made her mad and sad. Sometimes she was really angry about herself, than about the whole world, and angry that he was gone without saying goodbye.
After putting the bag into the kitchen Parker headed upstairs to change into something more comfortable. It was just 5 in the afternoon but she was tired and powerless.
In the bedroom she slowly unbuttoned her dress jacket, made of expensive import silk. She was standing in front of her big mirror. Parker’s outfit was in crème coloured today, the shoes in black, 7 and a half inches high. After a couple of seconds she started to unzip the mini skirt, let it fall to the floor. Now she was standing there, in a black lace corsage, matching string, garter and stockings.
She stood there studying her body carefully, her eyes noticed the way the cups of the corsage hugged her breasts perfectly. Slowly she started to unhook the corsage in front, leisurely each by each. Her belly was flat and muscular, her skin perfectly white like milk. The next move let her undo the garter from the stockings and she peeled them of, little by little.
It had been long since a man had touched her long and firm legs – long if it comes to Parker’s calendar.
She needed sex in a way to control herself, a way to forget the Centre, to forget what was happening. How many days now without a minute to forget?
A couple of minutes later she was standing there, the same place, nude. Parker tried to remember how male hands had touched her skin. She missed it! But on the other hand, there had never been a stable relationship, never. Most of the time it just had been intercourse – a game of in and outs without needing the need of trust. Faith had never made its way to her bedroom, never been connected with love. Love? Had she ever been in love again?
Her fingers slowly trailed over the two scars on her belly – one ovarian the other appendix, both on the same side.
The ovarian still hurt her, personally, deeply inside herself. She stopped feeling like a woman, stopped feeling complete.
It was a couple of months now that she had stopped to eat birth control pills. She told herself that she was eating them for too long now, without a sense behind. Parker had started to take them after her third abortion, yeah three. Three! She has had the first one at 16, than one at 21 and her last at 25. Too many things let her regret this now, but there were still enough reasons not to feel like a woman. Anymore. Not a woman who should give birth to a baby. She characterized herself not as a woman who should become a mother. Parker told herself that she doesn’t know anything about kids or how to raise them.
She was 26 when her gynaecologist told her that there was a big cyst on her right ovarian, and it could be malignant so that they would have to remove it. How often had she told herself that this wasn’t the world, that she could still have kids, the other one was working fine! How often had she asked herself if this wasn’t god given and she should maybe take it as a sign from above! But how often had she asked herself if her life would allow her to raise children. Her life and her surrounding.
And now its four months since she’d seen him, four long months! She was thinking of him, nearly every night.
Through most of her relationships she’d let the males take her from behind, not to see their faces, to imagine that they could be somebody else. That these hands would belong to another face, to another body. That sex could turn into making love – at least in her vivid dreams.
Parker’s dream world – this was another chapter! Sometimes she was just dreaming of somebody to lean against, putting her head on his shoulder while he would tell her stories. Or to be hugged and kissed after returning from her mother’s grave. Just that somebody would be at home, waiting for her. Somebody to dine with in candlelight, to sip a glass of wine with in front of the fire place. And than somebody to spoon with at night, a chest to wake up at.
Too many dreams!
One hand on her hip, she let the other one slowly cup her left breast, feeling her heartbeat.
Once during her early teenager years, she had told Jarod that she would dream of being more female attributes - in a very cryptic way of course, she was just 13. She told him later that she would dream of having a little more breast because the other girls in her class were able to fill their C-cups well and she was jealous with her soft As. And Jarod? He just smile at her and told her that they fit the proportions of her petite body perfectly. That every bit more would be out of proportion. Today, so many years later, she was able to fill a B cup very well. Most of the men she’d been with didn’t show much attention to them. Just Parker herself knew how sensitive they were, and how much they wanted to be touched gently.
Dreams, just dreams!
Another couple of minutes passed before she opened the clip in her hair, to let them fall on her shoulders in a wild cascade. They were longer now and as dark as her mothers.
But not she realised what she was doing, headed to her bed and grabbed the PJ from under the pillow.
~*~
It was rare to see Parker cooking but today she decided to cook, for herself – fish in white wine sauce with potatoes, nothing spectacular.
Many times she’d told Jarod that she would like to cook for him when they were kids and she knew that he would like to eat fish. She loved fish.
Normally she would never cook just for herself, never for just one person, because it was too sad – sitting alone at the kitchen table, alone in candle light. Her dining room table wasn’t in use anymore, for years now it was more a place to collect the dead flowers ex lovers sent in the morning after. Tons of dead roses in nice vases were sitting there, waiting to be thrown away or something else. But nobody cared for them, as much as nobody ever cared for Parker.
For one birthday Jarod had given her a rose, made of paper, by his own hands. This one was in the jewellery box her mother had given her at her seventh Birthday together with a necklace she wasn’t wearing anymore – a golden one with a cross on it.
She’d put it into the box, next to the rose, after her abortion aged 25 . Many small things were hidden in this wooden box with the ballerina on it, things which reminded her on her happier days, the innocent years, but they started to go when she turned sixteen.
Parker hasn’t open the box in a very long time, maybe two or three times, to add several things. Gifts which reminded her to the days, the days which were gone, forever.
Today her oldest child would be a teenager itself. A teenager – and this depressed her deeply. A teenager, a creature and person of its own. But she had decided against the miracle.
Today, so many years later, she regret these decisions, all three of them but she hasn’t made it easy for herself, not once. And the last one was the reason to become the Ice Queen, she hasn’t been like this forever. No.
Slowly she let the wine run to the fish and sat down at the kitchen table.
The first one had to be done because nobody was allowed to know what had happened. She wouldn’t have been able to explain it.
Parker had been sixteen, sweet innocent sixteen when she went with Robby, a friend of hers, to an American Football came. He had asked to drive her home and she had agreed, innocently. She couldn’t know that he wanted more than just to say goodbye, or an innocent kiss on his cheek. He’d gotten what he wanted, just without asking her, just without her agreement. Robby was a Football player, he didn’t need to ask girls to have fun with them, he just took them. Maybe Parker had been to innocent to see that, maybe she was not prepared to meet a guy like this in her early years, or ever? So he had gotten what he wanted, pressing the small frame of her deeply into the car seat. Her eyes had been opened, her mouth too, unable to scream. She was too much shocked of his action to fight it. He was so much stronger and taller than she was. He had gotten his dream without asking her, without waiting for an answer. Nobody was allowed to knew it, it would have been her ruin and his. She couldn’t tell Jarod or Sydney, they wouldn’t believe her – she thought.
She was afraid and just sweet sixteen. She had been in New Mexico two days after it turned out that she was pregnant.
The second time at 21 wasn’t really voluntary. Parker had thought the first time that she would really love somebody else – Gregory. They were a couple for about five months when she noticed that she was in joy. She had planned it, planned how to tell him, to surprise him. And she surprised him, yes she did.
Parker went to Greg’s flat, unlocked the door. It was the first time she’d gone to his flat without calling him. And there she met him, but not only him. She caught him in flagranti, a blond girl riding the brain out of him.
She thought that it was maybe the best to caught him right before it was too late.
Two days later she had her appointment in New Mexico.
And the third time was obviously the hardest for her. The pregnancy had been an accident, not planned. The matter of fact she couldn’t remember any act of penetration during the last weeks because she had set an out time after an operation at her knee. Every move hurt badly. But she was pregnant, two months no period, morning sickness – all symptoms were there.
This third time she was so far to give in, to give birth, becoming a mother. But for her it had been too important, to be able to give the child a perfect family – a father and a mother. However Parker hadn’t a clue who the father was. Her last intercourses had been save.
So she went to New Mexico again, with tears in her eyes – this time.
She told herself maybe too often that she wasn’t a lovely person, a woman who should have children, somebody to give love.
Today you can find a small box of books under her bed, dealing with motherhood and pregnancy. She hid them well, being afraid that she would never have a use for them again.
Parker turned the fish and sipped on her glass of white wine, a soft Riesling, soft and European, standing next to her cooking meal.
How many times she’d found out that a boyfriend just used her, just wanted a quick number in be, maybe more than one.
Money had never been a topic for her. She’d maybe been in a boarding school but was living in her own apartment near the campus. Boys liked her sport cars, especially the fire red corvette, very other than that. And of course they liked her expensive lifestyle, her way to dress and to go out.
Parker has always had what she wanted and what she needed but never somebody who really cared for her.
It was said that she was easy to get – just a couple of nice words, flowers and a puppy look and you could get everything from her, maybe a date or two if it was the wrong time of the month.
But on the other hand it was said that she was a passive lover - males got what they wanted, at least most of them. She was a girl who nearly made every dream true, nearly everything but not everything.
You couldn’t get her to scream your name nor that she really touches you cordially. She had been a good girl, blowjobs were in common because this wasn’t a thing a woman could be able to scream a name – nearly impossible. Screaming their names?
If she was coming, without touching herself during the act, than she was moaning but as good as never screaming. Many males just wanted to fuck, they didn’t care if she was satisfied or not. Egoistic male world. Many of the males also wanted an active who wasn’t just laying their under them, letting them do whatever they wanted.
Often she hasn’t had a clue about the betrayal since they split up or told her that the would be somebody else. The first time these conflicts ended very emotionally but with the years she got used to it and started to use the male being on her own – but never with such a lot of success.
Her fish was finished, so the potatoes. She peeled them and sat down with her dish – a glass of Riesling next to her, the candle in front.
“This is exactly what I was looking for,” she noticed a voice from behind, turned around and there he was. He was there, standing in the frame of the kitchen door, smiling at her.
His hair seemed to be wet, maybe it was raining outside, and his warm leather jacket hang loose on his male shoulders.
“What are you doing here Jarod?” she asked him and stood up, went through the kitchen and was now standing in front of him, smiling back at him. She didn’t need him to answer this, he just went a step into her direction and started to hug her tightly.
“Its good to know that you are fine Jarod.” she whispered and pressed her face next to his, her chin touching the collar of his shirt.
“Its good to feel you” Jarod returned and tightened his hug. They would have been able to stand like this for ages, centuries maybe longer.
“You could have called before, so I would have cooked a third and fourth piece for you Jar.” she said amused on her way to the stew, where the rest of the meal was waiting to be eaten.
“I couldn’t and you know that Sarah, better than I do.” He responded and stopped directly behind her, hugging her from behind.
“Jarod, believe me I wouldn’t have called the Sweepers.” she whispered, letting him hug her, letting his hands dance on her belly.
“You would because you know what would happened if you wouldn’t. But lets not speak about this now Sarah.”
“Okay, your meal is finished,” she said and went away from him, his plate in her hand, in the other one a fresh white wine glass and headed to the table.
They sat down next to each other, like old friends, not rivalries or enemies.
How often had she wished for a moment like this with a guy? How many times she just prayed for a fucking normal life, being a normal woman, having a normal job and an ordinary past.
She wanted a normal life with a normal relationship towards males, but this didn’t seem to be god given in her case.
With a couple of guys she had tried it but all the time it showed her that she wasn’t built for it, that her emotions weren’t like the ones from a normal woman. She was different. She was complicated and aggressive, ignorant and egoistic – she was different in comparison to other women.
When they’d finished their meals, she put the dishes into the dishwasher. She wasn’t looking at him, just staring at the dirty dishes. Suddenly she felt him behind her. She felt him pressing her against the counter, pressing his body into hers.
“I missed you,” Jarod whispered into her ear before he started kissing her exposed neck. “Missed you all the time.” He was placing more kisses on her collar bone. Slowly she turned around, still between the counter and him. Parker felt his warmth, his body around her somehow and she felt Home.
“I missed you too Jarod, I can't tell you how much.” Parker said with the knowledge that it wouldn’t take them long to start kissing. Has he had any physical contact since he survived?
“Let me hold you tonight Parker I would really love to hold you, like we did many years ago. I need this Parker, please.”
It was obvious that he wouldn’t have had to ask so sincerely to get what he wanted, but she loved to hear his voice, to fell his moisture breath against her skin.
This kiss now was everything but far away from a kiss you share between friends. After just a short touch of their lips the connection deepened and their mouths opened in similarity to take the other tongue deep, to welcome it home.
Jarod was just moaning when he pressed Parker harder into the wooden counter of the kitchen furniture. Thanks god that there wasn’t anything above the drawer. Slowly he forced her to get on the counter. It maybe took a minute, maybe an hour, it wasn’t important anything anymore. Nothing was important which was happened around them, just these two and their actions were.
The moment she was sitting on the working space, he stepped between her legs and put his body the crotch of her pyjamas. She could feel that he felt hot against her. His arms slowly trailed around her shoulders, one slowly moving down to her waist. Jarod was staring at her, waiting for an answer. Parker? She was just smiling happily, waiting for his next move and this would be to kiss her again. Instead he started to lick the way from her collarbone to her ear,
“I don’t want this to happen in the kitchen Jarod” she whispered and pressed her lips against his cheek, “I want this to be perfect and nothing else.”
God how often had she thought about this, about him and her together, about how it would be. Maybe it started when she turned into a teenager or maybe even earlier but she couldn’t remember. He had always been one of her best friends, the only friend she could relay to and trust in all cases, expect this one.
Sure she has had a couple of other friends, tried to give them the same position like Jarod but it never worked out. Most of the time they used her lovely and innocent way to deal with things and hurt her in the end with not trusting her in return but it had always been different with Jarod, always. She knew that she could trust him with her heart and her soul and every other part. Maybe that’s the way why she had started to deepen her feelings for him long ago, why no man ever gained the same access to her soul and her feelings. Maybe, but who could know it?
It only took them a couple of seconds till they stepped over the bedroom floor. Parker wasn’t as nervous as Jarod was. She had noticed that his hand was slowly shaking into hers. What was it?
Parker stopped in front of her bed, turning around, facing him.
How often had she dreamed of a situation like this?
“Don’t be shy Jarod, I wont bite,” Parker joked around. Jarod just slowly made step into her direction, very slowly. He was taking his time and she wasn’t able to realise why.
“I wont be good in this Parker.” he whispered and blushed softly.
“Why?” She asked shyly “Don’t even dare to say something like that to me.” She stared at him and he went to the window, not being able to face her.
“Its not that I know it Sarah its just that I have never been with a woman before.”
That was it, she thought, he was a male virgin and he came to her to take this gift from him. Within a minute Parker had joined him at the window, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Don’t be afraid Jar its not hurting.” she said and smiled into his back.
She had never dreamed of this, never allowed herself to spend a thought on this – that this gorgeous man could be a virgin!
“Turn around Jarod and kiss me … now!” she demanded.
Slowly he turned around like she wished and now she was the one who was pressing another body – his body into the window.
“You can't be bad Jarod, never, because its you and not the sex I was dreaming of.” she revealed.
And they were kissing again, deeply open mound kisses with lots of tongue involved. She loved the taste of him, a little white wine and a little salt from the fish and lots of Jarod in it. Slowly he started to tighten his grip on her, pulling her into him. Her body felt small against his, even if it wasn’t this way.
They were making their way backward to the bed, where she sat down in front of him. His hands were resting on her shoulders, waiting for a move from her side. On the other hand his was making small circles on the skin under her ear, driving her crazy. She hasn’t been aroused like this for a man in a very long time but this wasn’t an ordinary man, this was Jarod, her Jar.
Her hands moved to his belt and unbuckled it, their eyes still connected. Parker was smiling at him when she started to unbutton and unzip the slacks. Jarod was just standing there, his hands still on her shoulders.
It didn’t took her long to free him from the slacks and let them fall on the floor. He was just standing there in his short and the boxershorts he was wearing - black silk with small green men on his. Cute.
After letting his boxers join the his shirt on the floor, somewhere at the end of the bed.
How often had Parker dreamed to see him naked standing in her bedroom, more than just once? And now it happened, he was there, a virgin. Jarod her Jar, nobody else, just him here in her bedroom. She couldn’t believe it – believe that childhood and teenager dreams come true.
His hands were still on her shoulders and she dressed in her pyjamas.
“You are beautiful” she said and smiled at him when her hands trailed down from his collar bone to his navel, not noticing his rigid erection. Parker was smiling. Slowly she started to unbutton her own pyjama top, slowly, not wanting to ruin the moment. She was feeling that she was ready for him, more than ever before for a man. The moment the top glided from her shoulders, before his fingers trailed over her collar bone, softly touching her skin as it would be silk.
During the next minutes they studied each others body before he helped her out of the bottoms of the pyjamas and laid her down.
“You can't know, Sarah, how long I wanted to hold you like this” he said before he laid down next to her, their heads resting on the pillows, one hand under her head, the other around her waist. “It feels to good to be true.” he whispered the moment he started to kiss his way down her arm, before he started to place soft kisses on her belly, kissing every millimetre there. “You are so beautiful” he said when his lips were near hers. “Kiss me” she begged and he did – long open mound kisses, tongues dancing around.
“I want you inside of me Jarod” she whispered the moment they broke for air. “I haven’t done that before… never …. “ he said, his voice trembling. “You can't do something wrong,” she started to explain, “you are a big boy, I noticed that and it had been a while for me but you wont hurt me, I am really sure about that and I really would want it to happen.” Parker finished and let one hand of hers stroke his cheek, the other grab his erection.
He was a big man, probably a little over 9 inch long and big around but she knew that she would take it without any pain because she wanted this to happen. It would hurt physically but emotionally it was exactly what she had dreamed of for years.
But before he entered her, he spent a long time at her breast, kissing and suckling them, teasing and loving them – till she begged him to stop. Somehow he just grinned at her, a boyish grin.
Slowly, remembering her words before, he entered her. He wouldn’t have been able to take it any longer, he hasn’t ever felt this hard . Slowly, very slowly, inch by inch. He studied her face and noticed her moan when he was half way into her. This was a sign for him to wait a minute, and when she relaxed he went completely into her. “God this is warm and tight in there” he mumbled.
“Be my Angel Sarah” he whispered and kissed he cheek.
“I am your Angel, Jar.” she said and gave him the sign to move. They sat up a slow rhythm, before he started to get faster. “Its … not … that… hard… isn’t … it” Parker said during moaning and groaning. She had told him so much during the last seconds without using any words. He didn’t need to hear the words “I love you” because he’d seen her chest blush and than her cheeks before she climbed the heights of her orgasm and screamed his name.
She knew that he wasn’t a lot behind her and grabbed his shoulders, slowly pulling him down on her before they turned around and she was on top. He loved his view, she had noticed his big goofy grin when she started to move. Jarod was moaning instantly and Parker herself wasn’t far away from a second orgasm.
He started to scream her name, waving her hips further into her. She moaned with him and rid him through his whole orgasm. She felt him unloading inside, and she liked the feeling.
Later, the cuddled a little and spooned up to fall asleep.
“I came into you Sarah and you didn’t seem to care.”
“I don’t care that’s right Jarod, I don’t care…..” she whispered.
“We didn’t use any protection, didn’t we?”
“No, should we use something ?”
Jarod turned her around to face him, he was smiling and she smiled back. No word was said, not this night.
THE END
