I hear Janie’s car pull up in the driveway and I meet her at the door. She looks incredible in a high waisted, knee-length black leather skirt that hugs her wide hips, a a classy green shirt tucked in at the waist so her D-cups are accentuated. She locks the door of her car and I see her huge tits press together. Oh shit, I want her already. And as she turns to walk up to me, the expression of worry that has clouded her soft face only increases my lust. She looks into my eyes and I can’t help but smile, even through the impending doom I feel growing in my chest.
“Hey,” I say, leaning in to kiss her soft lips. She doesn’t push me away, but she doesn’t respond either. “What’s wrong, baby?” I ask her, actually worried now. She never acts like this.
“I need to talk to you,” she says, putting her handbag down on the hallway table as she faces me and folding her arms, making her cleavage look even more delicious. She has no idea how hot she looks. I clear my throat and try to pull myself out of my lustful thoughts by thinking about something gross and disgusting. But it doesn’t work. Janie’s too near and I can’t control my mind.
“What’s up, baby?” I ask her gently. She sighs.
“Amy and I spoke this morning,” she says. “We’ve been avoiding each other for a while. Actually, the last six months or so, pretty much since you and I started seeing each other. Do you know why?”
“Why?” I answer, genuinely having no idea where this is going.
“Because both of us have been seeing you without knowing it. Did you know that? You’ve been two-timing us.”
“No, I haven’t,” I say, scoffing. The look of bafflement grows on her beautiful face, her amber eyes flashing. “I mean, I’ve been dating both of you, yes, but I haven’t lied or anything. Had you asked if I was seeing her, I would have just told you.”
“Oh really?” she asks skeptically.
“Yes, really,” I exclaim. Janie suddenly looks sad. It breaks my heart.
“But – I thought we had a connection,” she says, her full bottom lip quivering, tears filling her eyes.
“We do,” I say gently, meaning it with all my heart.
“Then why did you feel the need to see Amy as well as me? Am I not enough?” she whispers, tears now falling down her apple cheeks. I reach out to her plump arms, incredulous that she can wonder about this, and pull her to me. She nestles her head against my torso.
“You are enough, Janie,” I whisper down into her brown curls. “You have no idea how much you’re enough.”
“Then I don’t understand,” she sobs into my chest. I sigh and gently put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at me, her beautiful amber eyes swimming with tears.
“And that’s all my fault.” I lean down and kiss her lips, wet with tears. “Come here, sit down. I’ll explain.”
Janie allows me to lead her to the sofa by her plump, dainty little hand, where we sit next to each other. I turn to face her. Holding her hand, I use my other to smooth the curls from her face, brushing her soft, alabaster skin with my calloused hand. She looks up at me expectantly.
“Janie, this connection you’ve been feeling, I’ve been feeling too. You know I have.” I pause a moment, searching for the words. “Ever since we met, being with you has been terrifying.”
“I get it,” she says in an unhappy voice. “But then why have you been seeing Amy too?”
“Wait for it, honey. I’m able to talk to you the way I can’t with anyone else. I’m able to open up and be myself. And that’s – that’s what’s been so difficult for me. There’s no hiding from myself when I’m with you.”
“But why would you want to, though?” she asks me innocently, not understanding. I grimace in frustration. Everything in my being is fighting what I’m doing. For all the talking we’ve been doing over the last six months, this is something I haven’t even gone near.
“Because that’s all I know how to do,” I say in a slow voice. “The Army drills that in you. It’s necessary for survival. But now that I’m back, I – I don’t know how to be normal again.”
She watches my face and I can see understanding growing in her eyes. It encourages me.
“But that’s not all. There’s stuff that – that – happened in the last four years, that …,” I stammer. This is difficult for me and Janie knows it. She squeezes my hand with encouragement. “Stuff that is difficult for me think about, talk about. And – and – when we’re together, I feel like you open the door to a brand new world. You know? Like you see into me. And I don’t like it. I want that door to stay closed. It’s safer that way.”