“But you’re expecting me to get married for political reasons. For my career. Getting along well with someone, them being good looking, that’s not any reason to marry them.”
“But honey, you’ve never been interested in love or romance. You’ve never dated anyone, certainly not seriously. You and Della are friends, you’ll get along well together, what more could you ask for? Perhaps in time, you’ll even come to love her…who knows? It will be good for you, either way. You know, we only want what’s best for you.”
More like, what they thought was best for the person they wanted me to be.
Mom stood up. “I hope the house staff are back, ‘coz we need dinner.”
She walked off in search of the staff, and I took this opportunity to retreat to my room.
My old bedroom had a great view of the lake. I stared out as I collected my thoughts.
How did my mother not care that I wasn’t in love with my future wife? How could she be so casual about all of this? I wondered, if she hadn’t fallen for Dad, would she have found a ‘smart’ marriage instead.
Whatever be the case, my head was spinning, and my stomach churned with sorrow and frustration. I stared out the window and caught sight of the gazebo, the evening sunlight filtering through its columns and roof. The last time I’d been there had been with Laura, the final day of our retreat at the lake house, almost ten years ago.
I hadn’t told Laura yet, but I knew that I would have to break up with her. I’d gone over things in my mind again and again, and I hadn’t been able to find another solution. I was going to an Ivy League college and Dad was already talking about his political plans for me. So, if he got to know that I was dating the daughter of a negligent, single mother from the trailer park, Dad would throw a fit.
Dad had bragged to me over the years about the tough line he took with people who had crossed him, how he drove a hard bargain, how he was uncompromising about the consequences to people who deserved it. I’d experienced it as a kid many times, getting grounded every time I stepped a toe out of line.
Dad would find a way to separate Laura and I, and that’s why, I’d decided to take the task upon myself. Better me than him, so that I could do it as lovingly as possible, and so that Laura wouldn’t have to endure my father’s horrible snobbery.
As Mom and Dad had been out of town, and I’d decided to break up with her, it was worth the risk to take Laura to the lake house. I thought that if this all the time I would have had with her, then I wanted it to be special. I had wanted it to be perfect, and honestly, it had been.
That last evening, we’d been swimming in the lake again. Swimming had been my favorite sport in high school, and I’d continued it in college because Dad had said that it would look good on my application. But I enjoyed swimming that summer specially because I got to see Laura in a bathing suit. There’d been nothing sexier than seeing her in those skimpy clothes. I wondered if Laura would look the same now if she wore a bathing suit…with age, she’d only gotten more confident and her body had become even more curvy and sexy. My mouth watered at the thought.
Our last evening together at the lake house, we’d ended up having sex in the gazebo after our swim. There was something primal in me that Laura woke up, like I could finally stop worrying about being the person my parents wanted me to be and just be myself. Also, with her, I could give into those dark, sensual desires that I didn’t know I had. I wanted to chase her, to pin her down, to kiss her and make love to her until she knew she belonged only to me.
But the next day, I had to break her heart. I had to tell her that I had been accepted to an Ivy League school and that I’d be leaving—and never coming back. I had to tell her that we needed to break up, that I couldn’t see us as being a couple in the future.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t had the heart to explain to her that I did imagine us being together. But the reason we couldn’t was because my parents would never allow it. I knew that Laura was a fighter, even though she had been a quiet kid in high school. She’d kept her head down and worked hard for good grades and extra credit. She’d known that the only way to get herself out of her shitty circumstances was to work her ass off, and she’d definitely done that.
If I’d told her the truth that it was my parents who were going to keep us apart, she would have fought. As long as we love each other nothing else matters, right? I could practically hear her saying it in my head—the mantra of a thousand romance books and films. But this wasn’t fiction, it was real life. In reality, I hadn’t known how it could end in any way other than a more painful and drawn out break up.
Before I’d had to leave her, though, before I’d had to break her heart, I’d wanted to make love to her one last time. No, a hundred last times!
That night, I’d taken her from the gazebo back up to my room, to this very bed. When I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could feel her warm, soft body against mine. She’d been stunning, gorgeous, laid out naked in front of me, with nothing but trust and love in her eyes.
That night, I’d just wanted to drown in her body. Her smell. Her eyes. Her love.
I’d spent so much time kissing her that I had wondered if Laura knew something was up. She had always been happy to spend time together, to lose ourselves in each other. I felt like I had been obvious in my desperation and need for her, but maybe for Laura, this was how she felt every day.
Of course, the lake house wasn’t the first time we’d had sex, and I’d been glad for it. Our first time had been adorable and sweet, with moments of laughter as we’d figured it out. But this last time, we’d been able to make each other gasp and moan, had known each other’s bodies well enough to send
one another into ecstasy.
I’d teased her with my fingers, always wary about not hurting her and wanting her to feel good—just loving the way she would beg for me when she got desperate. My cock had been so damn hard that I’d been convinced I could pound nails with it! This was the last time we were together, and I hadn’t wanted to risk not being able to enjoy the sex, even though I had the blessed recovery period that young males have.
When I’d finally slid inside of her, Laura had been screaming my name for at least a minute. Fuck! Nothing had ever been as hot as hearing her cry out for me. She’d been with only me, and I’d wanted to ruin all other men for her, so that she never wanted to be with anyone else after me, just like I hadn’t wanted to be with anyone else after her.
I rubbed at my wrists, remembering how I’d interlocked our fingers and pressed her hands down into the bed above her head, pumping in and out of her with my cock, keeping my thrusts deep, but slow and steady. She’d been so goddamn hot and tight—perfect for me. The whimpers that had escaped her mouth when I’d twisted my hips just so…were beyond enticing.
When I’d come the first time, I’d squeezed her hands, and she’d squeezed back, kissing along my jaw and whispering my name. I’d never come so hard in my life, bested only by when I came again an hour later. After I’d recovered from coming the first time, I turned her over and fucked her so hard that I felt like we’d dug a hole through the mattress.
Of course, looking back, we had been young. I could only imagine what it would be like to fuck her now, with us being older and more experienced, ready to rock each other’s worlds in a way that we could have only dreamed of as two eighteen-year-old virgins.
Despite our lack of sexual experience, it had been fucking amazing. I’d whispered endearments into her ear, telling her how beautiful and amazing she was and how much she inspired me—because it had been true. I hadn’t been able to tell her that I loved her. Who told someone they loved them and then broke up with them the next day? And if she thought I didn’t love her back, then she would accept me breaking her heart and leaving her.
But God, how I’d wanted to tell her! I’d basically said it in every other way possible. I’d felt like I saw whole new colors when I’d come inside her the second time that night, Laura whimpering through her multiple orgasms. She’d become a fucking vice of mine and I felt euphoric every time I fucked her.