Dealing Flesh (21 page)

Lustania:
Something big is on its way. I can feel it. It’s only a matter of time.

Romy:
I will never stop making him happy.
Just like that country song ‘Back at One’ goes—’One, you’re like a dream come true, two, just wanna be with you, three, it is plain to see, you’re the only one for me…’

Each time the tune hits the airwaves, Ken sings along with it, staring at me in languishing worship.

Romy:
Whatever kind of God is up there—it must have finally reached my name on the list.

“Move in with me. You can always find another place if it doesn’t work out between us,” Ken temps after hearing about my struggles with trying to find a place in the slow holiday rental market.

Overjoyed, I answer, “Yes, darling.”

~~~

Back at the residence in Agoura Hills this morning, Raymond informs me that his mother died earlier due to the complications of the heart attack she suffered two days ago. Dazed by the sudden turn of events, I aim to hug him, but he shoves me aside.

“I’m really sorry ‘bout your mother. I know you’re dealing with a lot right this moment, but when do you think is a good time to discuss how we should split things up between us?”

“That gotta wait. I’m too busy with funeral arrangements. By the way, you must be thrilled now that she’s dead, mhhmm? Wasn’t that what you had wanted all along?” he says with great contempt in his voice and eyes.

Romy:
Ach. Fuck him. Just let him have all the shit if he insists. Who needs material possessions anyway? I’m already the wealthiest woman in the world with Ken in my life.

I don’t say a word; just migrate into the room next door. He does not follow. Knowing that Ray won’t be around for at least forty-eight hours as he told me earlier, I spend most of the next two days and nights at Ken’s house.

As my honey and I drive around town running errands this morning, a lively conversation erupts. Somehow the topic touches on pandering. Ken openly admits that he has previously pimped women, but assures me that it is strictly an issue of the past.

Romy:
Ehhh.
He did not say that. No, he did not. I would be crazy to let that insignificant comment ruin my beautiful fairytale. It never happened. End of story.

~~~

The raunchy sound of
Barry White’s
deep voice enriches the atmosphere with even more romance inside the dimly lit room.

“Closer. Come on, baby. No…closer than that. I want you close, closer than close, honey,” I mutter, feeling Ken’s well-endowed manliness swell up inside me. He abides momentarily, gazing into my eyes with adoring fondness.

Dotingly, he murmurs, “I love you.”

Romy (elated):
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.

Doubt Cloud:
Impossible. But, wowww, just wowww…what a feeling!

A dense layer of goose bumps covers my skin. Face flushed and ears clogged like at high altitude, I lay still, relishing in every second of the electrifying experience. If I had to pick just one moment in time to seize for as long as I live, this is the one.

Romy:
I’m the happiest woman alive.

“I love you, too, baby,” I say, tenderly placing a kiss on one of Ken’s eyelids, then the other.

Romy:
Life finally makes sense.

Exhausted from the intense bodily activities, I fall asleep with my head on top his chiseled stomach. When morning comes, I wake up with Ken’s arm still wrapped around my torso. Barely opening my eyes, I feel one of his hands caressing my head.

“What are you doing?” I ask, noticing him focus intensely on me.

“Oh nothing. Just been watching you sleep.”

He begins nibbling on my earlobe, softly sighing,

“Honey, do you know you are the most loved woman in America? Where have you been all my life?”

I furl my arms around his neck in fervor, leading to yet another lovemaking marathon. Never having been a fan of morning sex in the past, I now cannot get enough of it and Ken’s sweet, sweet, sweetness, no matter what time a day or night it is.

Romy:
Life is great. I have NO problems…can handle anything
.

Up until this point, Ken has made no secret out of his plans of wanting to marry me and try for a baby as soon as my divorce comes through. The target date is this summer, that is, if everything goes according to plan.

Romy:
There is nothing in this world I would rather do than marry my sweetie and give birth to our child.

~~~

I make a pit stop at the house in Agoura. Ray walks in. By now, he is well aware that my ultimate plan is to move before the year turns.

“I know you’ll keep Bella, but I can only take one cat to where I’m going, so will you please keep Otis?”

“No, you take both of them,” he insists.

“If he can’t stay with you, I’ll have to drop him off at the shelter.”

“Well, then I guess that’s what you’ll have to do because he sure as hell isn’t staying here,” he says with cold as ice demeanor.

Last House on the Block

After stuffing the rest of my things inside my car this morning, I return to the living room. Seeing Bella’s sweetest brown eyes looking at me in anticipation shatters my heart into a million pieces. I place a tender ten-second long kiss onto her sleek muzzle while holding it shut with my hand, so she cannot lick my face.

Blushetta:
How does one say goodbye to an angel?

Tough Gal:
I am sure Raymond will take decent care of her, keeping the house, and all.

Scaredy Cat:
You must go now. It’s best to be out of here before he shows up.

I stroke the dog’s reddish head once more.

“Bye, Sunshine. Know that I will never forget you. Will see you again, I promise.”

Drowning in melancholy, I shut the door behind me, holding on tightly to the two cat carriers while making my way to the car.

Doubt Cloud:
I don’t think I have the strength to leave her behind.

Tough Gal:
Keep going. Freedom comes at a price.

I get into the vehicle and using the utmost of caution, I avoid glancing at the large bay window, because like clockwork, Bella’s face always appears. I manage to drive away, instantly heading for the animal shelter. Grudgingly, I hand Otis over to the woman at the counter.

Whip Cracker:
Traitor
.

I cannot recall how I make it out without suffering a nervous breakdown, but twenty minutes later, all pain evaporates as I rest comfortably in Ken’s safe embrace.

The holy days move in on us. Undoubtedly, the fest earns the label “best Christmas ever.” We spend hours in bed, make love, cook for and feed each other, topping it all off with an idyllic horseback ride hand in hand into the moonlit night of the mystical hills. New Year’s Eve and Day are equally memorable, consisting of much of the same events.

When putting on paper our goals for the coming year, getting hitched and making a baby top the list. We both agree that “
making every effort to deter others from trying to get into our pants
” should also have its rightful place on the sheet of paper.

Romy:
So this is what forever feels like. Wowww…woww…

Brown Sugar Smack

I ache to make love to Ken, but realize that it can still take hours until he arrives. Feeling like a person walking through the desert without water, I lie down on the bed and play with Mister V, the electric vibrator my honey introduced me to a few days ago.

A good ten minutes of fiddling around with it go by, making me feel better and better by the second, not an end in sight. The earth moves. Well, okay, not really…but I do, quaking, shaking, and quivering as the Big O marches in with trumpets and fanfares, smacking me with sensations too delightful to name. Stunned by the unbelievable intensity of the incredible rush, I let out several shrieks of uttermost rapture.

Lustania:
Fooockckk Meeee. Now I see what all the hoopla is about.

It’s the best feeling I’ve ever experienced. Let’s try this again, shall we?

Hot Shot:
I can’t believe I lived without that for thirty-six years? Where have I been?

Fantasia takes me to Happy Land a few more times in the following twenty minutes. The more intensely I think about Ken and the enjoyment I envision him deriving from seeing me coil around in this much pleasure, the more worked up I become.

He walks in an hour later. During the first five minutes of exchanging tenderness, I let him in on my latest discovery. His eyes widen while I tell the story. He kisses me, lifts me off the couch and sets course for the bedroom.

“I think I need a private demonstration,” he chuckles. As soon as he puts me down, we jump onto a sixty-minute tidal wave ride of in-sync ‘climaxation’. I am hooked—hooked on Ken, hooked on Mister V, hooked on both, because together, they make one hell of a team.

Ken leaves the house right after we make love this morning. I believe he is headed for one of the many jobs that I can no longer keep track of. I, too, go about my day, but return in the afternoon. An instant vehement pining comes over me, intensified by Fantasia showing me all the mouth-watering things my honey and I can do to each other at the time of his arrival.

Lustania:
Who knows when the heck that will be? I need that scrump-tilicious feeling now.

Unable to further concentrate on anything but the intense rush of an orgasm, I bring out Mister V once more, lie down on the bed, and masturbate. During a brief moment of awareness in-between sprawling exaltation, my gaze falls onto the cracked bedroom door. I startle because through the gap I spot Ken’s prying eyes, voraciously following my every move.

Blushetta:
How embarrassing.

Fantasia:
Bull… It’s hot as hell.

Lustania:
I’m gonna make him wild.

Romy:
I hope he hasn’t lost respect for me?

I pleasure myself even more ambitiously now that I know he is watching. This moment, the door opens all the way and in he walks, approaching the bed in brisk strides. He hurriedly strips off his clothes and hops in next to me, instantaneously taking me onto the ride of my life.

Lustania:
Gimme more of that brown sugar smack.

The Trillion-Dollar Card

Ken grants me full permission to sort through any and all of his belongings in order to give the place my personal touch and make it a home.

After he leaves this morning, I sift through several boxes of his paperwork and other items. In one of the bins, I run across a note pad that says, “Do NOT Read!” on the front cover.

Romy:
That won’t apply to me. We are already married at heart. Anything he owns, I own, and vice versa.

I instantly flip the journal open and dive into the words. Hearing Ken express thoughts and feelings about many of the women that he encountered while living a bachelor life in Chicago makes me cringe. The last sentence on the entire pad says, “I hope to someday attain peace and find someone I truly care about.”

Romy:
That’s me. I’m the one he truly cares about
.
We are soul mates, and I am going to make him the happiest man alive
.

Continuing with the de-cluttering mission, I stumble upon a small stack of love letters. A strange feeling befalls me as my eyes glide across the passionate words of Ken’s former lovers.

Enviola:
They all sound so enmeshed
.
There’s reason to believe that one or more of these bygoners may still mean a lot to him.

When Ken gets in tonight, I drop a couple of names in his face, but he assures me they are all old hats, that I have nothing to be concerned about.

“If that’s the case, then why don’t you toss them?”

Abundantly saddened, as he refuses to do so, I let the issue resurface several weeks later. This time, he takes the letters and shreds them in front of me.

Enviola:
That oughta do it.

Spring comes, and I secure a full-time job as a secretary at an insurance company in Thousand Oaks. It pays more than I made in any of the so-called “normal” occupations I held since I have been in America. Athirst to contribute to our life together, I offer to chip in toward rent and utilities, but inquire about the possibility of a two months grace period to build up momentum.

“Of course, baby. Take your time. There is no hurry,” Ken assures me.

~~~

Valentine’s Day
arrives
.
Candles lit, Ken and I sit on the couch, relaxing after supper. He hands me a nicely wrapped gift and an envelope. I look at the present first. It’s a thoughtfully selected handbag that I adore. I open the card. It depicts two lit red candles standing side-by-side, one taller than the other on the front. Golden letters read, “Happy Valentine’s Day.” On the inside the same two candles show up again. Below them, it reads…

Knowing love of no name, two hearts burst into flames. To my lover, my soul mate, my friend,

I am looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you.

Love always and true,

Ken xoxoxo

I tear up, reading over each word several more times.

Romy:
This is better than a trillion dollars.

Blushetta:
He is the gem of gems.

Enviola:
He sure is. But
I do admit…sometimes I do get concerned, especially when an attractive woman comes around us.

That brings to mind the scenario last week when this good-looking gal walked right by us and I immediately tensed up inside. I do not know how Ken knew, but he immediately disarmed my fears, saying, “Honey, I know you think I find her attractive because she is beautiful, but let me assure you, I don’t.”

Romy:
I know, I have nothing to worry about, especially not when looking at the overwhelming evidence – Ken bombards me with affection in public, he never shies away from showing the world we are an item, and he brings me along whenever possible.

We make love for an extraordinary long time this evening.

Morning comes. Ken appears asleep when I open my eyes. About to leap into the bathroom to erase possible signs of morning breath, I suddenly feel his arms tackle me. He pulls me towards him and presses his lips onto mine with such stronghold that I cannot get a word in. As soon as I get the opportunity to speak, I let him in on my apprehensions.