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sippin-on-red-wine · 7 years

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High Tide | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me

Title: High Tide: An Original, Ed Sheeran Mature Fan Fic | Chapter 1: If You’ll Have Me Author: @sippin-on-red-wine Rating: 17+, Mature (Smut comes in at the end of this chapter) Word Count: 10,478 Author’s Note: This is my first ever attempt at writing fan fiction, let alone that of the smutty variety. I started to read it recently and wanted to take a stab at my own story. I am SEEKING FEEDBACK of any and all kinds! Please feel free to drop me a message, an ask, on anon -- ANYTHING! I want to know how you like the story, the characters, do you relate to them? What did you like? What is missing? Any requests for future installments? HIT ME UP. Enjoy!

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Ed set his glass down on the kitchen counter and poured himself another whiskey, neat. He had lost track of how many he had, though he knew the whiskies were only perpetuating his bad mood. Usually he was a fun drunk, bit of a boozy idiot actually, but that was when he was with his friends. Drinking alone didn’t warrant any celebration. Especially considering the events that had transpired in the last several weeks. Luckily, his mates were due to arrive here tomorrow afternoon.

He strode back upstairs to the master suite of his friend’s summer home in Southport, ME. She had been there when shit really hit the fan and offered up the house to Ed for as long as he needed it. She said it was the perfect place to stay out of the public eye. It was a gated community, the beaches not accessible to the public, and most people only summered there anyway. Labor Day had come and gone, and she assured Ed he wouldn’t be bothered.

He had a few dates to finish up on the Asia leg of his tour and had planned on flying back to London to start work on his next album until he was due to continue touring in the States, and actually be able to spend some time in his own god damned house. But he couldn’t face going home, the home he had built with her, not after what had happened. So he gladly took his friend up on her offer, heading to New England instead.

Ed walked barefoot across the plush carpet toward the electric fireplace. From the bits he heard on the news, it was an unseasonably warm September on the East Coast, but the nights were still really cool. He clicked the fire on and instantly felt a tick better, taking a moment to watch the flames flicker and fade.

He strode over to the big bay window next and, with a different button on the same remote, sent the blinds up. He looked down at the neighboring house, peering into the big, open windows of the living room.

Right, well wasn’t she having a better night than me? Ed looked down and studied his new neighbor. She looked to be maybe in her late twenties, tan skinned and dark hair piled all up on top of her head, rectangular specs perched on her nose. She was wearing tight black leggings and a long-sleeved red T-shirt with “Wisconsin” spelled out in white block lettering.

She walked gracefully into the living room, holding a glass of wine and a very large book. Ed watched her lie back on a black leather couch, whose back was up against the large windows facing him, and slide on some reading glasses that had been left there. Setting her wine down on the table and tossing a throw pillow behind her back, she opened up her book and settled in. Ed wasn’t sure why he was still watching, likely because he had fuck-all else to do, other than finish his whiskey.

A few beats passed and Ed decided he was being creepy, and turned to grab the remote to lower the blinds back down.

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I slowed to a jog as I jammed the speed button down on the treadmill. I looked down at the controls and saw my stats for this run, I had gone for almost 40 minutes longer than I normally did. I slowed to a walk for a few minutes and then shut the machine off.

My hair was pulled back into a ponytail and tucked into an old baseball hat which was now drenched in sweat. I walked across my home gym over to the attached bathroom, peeling off my cap, tank top, sports bra and running tights, depositing them in the laundry chute. I tugged the elastic out of my hair and slipped into the shower, turning the faucet to just barely warm enough.

I stood under the spray, ruminating on the events of the last two weeks.

I had woken up at the asscrack of dawn yesterday to drive Ed’s friends to the airport. They had planned on just getting a cab, but I had insisted. The last two weeks spent with them here would be stuck in my memory forever. They were so upbeat, really bringing me out of my social black hole I’d been rocking for the last couple of years. And holy shit, I thought I drank too much on my own, but I had really punished my liver while they were here.

Ed rode along to bid his mates farewell, sitting shotgun and toying with my shifting hand throughout the entire two hour drive. We dropped them off outside the airport, hopping out to help them unstack their luggage from the back. They each hugged Ed & I, promised to see him again soon, and thanked me for my hospitality again.

The last two weeks had been nearly a non-stop party, chock filled with laughter, booze, bonfires, meals shared at my dining room table (the first time it had ever been used, by the way). But there was something more.

I hadn’t known, but Ed had been living in the house next door for two weeks before I met him. His friend Pete had seen me sitting out on the beach in front of my house on their first night in town, I had headphones in listening to a podcast when he tapped me on the shoulder, scaring the SHIT out of me, making me spill wine all up and down my front. The poor guy felt bad about that for at least a week. He had invited me over to join their bonfire, a friendly act that led to a chain of events that might actually have changed my life.

I must have looked like a total idiot, because I didn’t realize Ed was Ed Sheeran until the third night, when someone brought a guitar out to the fire and passed it around. The group was surprised when it came to my turn and I set my drink down, burying the stem of my glass in the sand, and plucked out a mediocre-at-best rendition of Miranda Lambert’s ‘Oklahoma Sky’. A party trick I probably wouldn’t have broken out if I hadn’t A) Been thoroughly liquored up and B) Knew I was in the presence of the largest male pop artist in the fucking world.

“Anything you can’t do, love?” Ed had chuckled as I finished, clapping along with the group. “The lady can sail, she plays guitar, and makes the best fucking lobstah mac n cheese in the whole world.” He imitated the classic Bostonian accent on ‘lobster’, sending me into a tizzy. His American accent impressions were freaking hilarious.

“Ah, well, you caught me. I know like, three songs. How does that saying go? ‘Jack of All Trades, Master of None’ ? Yep, that’d be me,” I said, passing the guitar to Ed on my left.

Night had just fallen. The air felt like a shade of navy blue with silver-white stars starting to freckle the sky above us. Ed picked up the guitar and started strumming out this beguiling melody.

“You look so wonderful in your dress, I love your hair like that. The way it falls on the side of your neck, down your shoulders and back….” I was in awe. The beautiful tenor of his voice sang out, fingers plucking the bronze strings of the guitar, his eyes closed the whole time. “So in love, so in love, so in love…” It was such a touching song.

He was barely finished when I asked, “Who sings that? That was a beautiful song, wow.”

A beat passed and no one said anything. Lauren, a strikingly tall brunette, stood up and strode over to me, hooking her arm through mine, “Let’s get a refill, yeah?” Well this is awkward.

“Erm, sure,” and I walked with her, arms still linked. She flung open the sliding glass door and I followed her into Ed’s kitchen. It was quite similar to mine, all white, with marble countertops and a large island which was currently being used as a makeshift bar.

“Love, you know who Ed is, right?” She said, looking down at me. Okay, so she didn’t bring me in here for a fill-up.

“Uh… I don’t follow?”

“Are you bullshitting me right now?” She said, taking a step toward me.

“Whoa, okay, can you please clue me in on what we’re talking about here?” I was quick to jump on the defense.

She exhaled loudly. “Ed Sheeran… you know… like, super huge pop singer? Won Grammy’s n shit?”

I racked my brain, trying to find an association with the name “Ed Sheeran”. The puzzle must have played out on my face, because Lauren dug into her pocket, pulling out her iPhone. She quickly tapped the screen a few times, and suddenly a song started playing out of the little speaker. “White lips, pale face, breathing in the snowflakes,” sang out. I suddenly felt like I had a rock in my stomach. She was tapping away at her phone again, another haunting melody beginning, playing in super-speed as she drug her finger across the screen, fast forwarding. “...keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans, holding me closer til our eyes meet, you won’t ever be alone - wait for me to come home.”

Holy shit. I set my drink down on the counter and gripped the edge. I didn’t live *completely* under a rock and had heard these songs on the local pop station, both here & back home. I saw Lauren look outside at all the guys still sitting around the fire. She pulled up another song, a sort of xylophone beat playing out, “The club isn’t the best place to find a lover, so the bar is where I go..”

“Okay, I get it.” I said, wanting her to shut the dang thing off. “I had no idea.”

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m the one that made it weird. I just thought you would want to know. Ed is totally chill. Let’s go back out by the guys. C'mon.” She handed my wine glass back, hers in tow as well.

I was reluctant, not really knowing what Ed's reaction would be. Would he think I was lying? Would he be insulted? I followed Lauren across the cool tile of the kitchen floor, out onto the patio and back down onto the beach. Ed turned his head as we approached, the guitar abandoned in the sand next to him.

“I’m guessing Lauren just blew my cover, yeah?” He joked.

“Sorry, I totally didn’t realize. I don’t do like, social media or anything, and I mostly listen to country on the radio.” I shrugged, feeling the need to explain myself.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ed reached out and rubbed my shoulder blade. “I need that ego check sometimes, I think.”

“Bloody hell ‘e does,” piped in one of the other guys, everyone laughing and chiming in with their own similar sentiments.

And things were totally back to normal after that.

The next ten days were a blur of too much food, too much alcohol, a lot of laughs, and a blossoming interest in my new neighbor. I found myself drawn to him, and he, to me. It was a few days after the “revelation” when I had taken the gang out on one of the ocean charters my company operated during the tourist season. We went out a couple hours before sundown, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the whales that would be heading back down to warmer waters now from up in Nova Scotia. We were not disappointed. The six of us were out on the bow of the ship, a 50 foot beauty, new to the fleet this year. There was a small pod of humpback whales that were delighted to play in the foamy bubble spray that was kicked up by our propellers. We were exhilarated, watching the water for bubbles and dorsal fins, waiting for the next breach.

The biggest momma whale propelled out of the water, crashing down, creating a huge splash - I looked over and saw Ed’s face light up, head thrown back, mouth open with silent laughter. I couldn’t help but grin at his childlike wonder. He peeked at me out of the corner of his eye and caught me admiring him. He was up against the railing, I was standing back about a foot away, on deck. He twisted away from the rail and reached out to me, both hands coming to clasp mine, and he drew me into his chest, wrapping me up in a big hug, resting his chin on the top of my head. I closed my eyes, squeezing my arms around his ribcage, inhaling his slightly sweet scent of cinnamon.

I had butterflies in my stomach. I knew that I had started to develop feelings for him, but it was so early, and I didn't think he felt the same way. But when he drew me into his chest, out on the open water, I didn't know what to think anymore. I decided to play it cool.

I was re-watching these scenes in my head, and a few more days passed by. It was Saturday night and the gang was feeling particularly energetic. We set up a game of beer pong and played each other in teams of two. Once that got boring, we switched the flippy-cup, 3 on 3, playing a few sets of that. I was feeling particularly juiced up, not used to drinking any type of alcohol at such a fast pace. The boys turned on some music and we gathered round the kitchen island, grabbing out a deck of cards to play Circle of Death and pouring shots for everyone.

After the first “Waterfall” of the game, I desperately needed some air. It seemed like there were five different conversations going on at once, and the bass of Ed’s rap music was thumping throughout the kitchen. I slipped out the patio door and sauntered down to the beach, not thinking anyone had noticed me leave.

I walked down to the shore, where a few small boulders created a miniature version of Maine’s signature craggy rock seashore. I picked a smooth, flat stone and sat down, leaning back on my hands. The salty air was cathartic and I had hoped it would help sober me up a bit.

I heard the barely-there sounds of footfalls on the sand and turned back to see Ed walking toward me, looking devilishly handsome in a plain white tee and jeans. His hands were stuffed in his pockets as he came and planted himself down on my rock, hip to hip.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself.”

“Something wrong?” He asked, sounding mildly concerned.

“Yeah. You Brits are born with too high of an alcohol tolerance. I simply cannot keep up,” I sassed.

He cackled, “Ha! Don't repeat that to them, it will only egg them on more.”

He reached down for my hand, lacing his fingers in with mine, and leaned his head onto my shoulder. We sat there, just like that, in total silence but for the lap, lap, lap of the tide coming in to meet the beach.

And then he kissed me. He tilted his head up from my shoulder, using his free hand to bring my face in towards him, those perfect pink lips just slightly parted, his hand still cradling my face. His mouth sought out mine and I happily obliged, melting into his, the delicious feel of his tongue slipping past mine, swirling so tenderly. I could taste the cool whiskey and coke on his breath. His ripe berry-colored lips pressed into mine once more, and then he retreated.

“Come on, love, let's head back inside.” He said, standing up and offering out his hands to help you up.

Later, I laid in bed, wondering what the hell that had been about. Was he just tipsy? He had stayed fairly close to me for the rest of the night, once we re-joined the party, resting his hand on the small of my back at one point. But when I insisted I needed to head home to bed, he wished me goodnight with a hug and kiss on the cheek - as did every single one of those drunk Brits. I decided not to over think what this was, or wasn't, or where it was going. It felt nice and I just wanted to roll with the punches.

I snapped back to reality. The water in my shower was running cold now - I jacked the dial up toward the Hot side and went to work on washing my hair. I soaped up my loofah and sloppily scrubbed at my body while my conditioner soaked in. I made quick work with my razor and rinsed my hair one last time. Popping out of the shower, I dried myself thoroughly, wrapping my hair and body up in towels and headed upstairs to my room.

After Ed and I got back from the airport yesterday, we both went our separate ways, and I had resolved myself to leave him be for a while. That was just yesterday morning and now, the next afternoon, I was already yearning to see him again. I dropped my towel, tugged on a pair of black leggings, a white and grey long sleeved baseball tee, and some no-show socks. I bent over, shaking the towel out of my hair and using it to scrunch up my long, brown locks a bit. Then I grabbed a hair tie and piled it all on top of my head in a damp messy bun.

I flew down the steps and out the door into the garage, grabbing the keys for my Wrangler on the way out. My brain was on auto-pilot as I drove into town, calling up my favorite pizza place and ordering a large pepperoni & garlic bread to-go. If I had learned anything about Ed in the last two weeks, it's that his fridge was devoid of anything edible at almost all times. I thought surprising him with a pizza would be a good excuse to “pop in.”

I jammed a bit to the Beatles on the way to and from the pizza shop. It wasn’t a terribly long drive though, so I was pulling back into my driveway in no time, my car just absolutely reeking of delicious cheesy pizza goodness.

I parked in my driveway and crossed the lawn over to Ed’s, knocking on the front door. A beat passed, no answer. I knocked again, then tried the doorbell. I was just starting to get worried when the door swung open.

I was greeted by a tousled Ed...still wearing the same clothes he had on for the drive yesterday. To be honest, he reeked of booze, and not in the sexy whiskey-coke-kiss way that we shared the other night on the beach. I heard bass thumping faintly from somewhere in the house, and it looked like most of the lights were off inside.

“Um, hi, love, whaddya got there?” He was leaned up against the door jam, clearly needing its support to stand. Nice.

“I just thought you might like to, ah, share a pizza? Is this a bad time?” I asked, offering him an out.

“Nope,” he said, popping that “p” sound like he was known to do. “Come on in.”

He beckoned me inside, turning and walking through the foyer, clearly moving slowly, trying to focus on his steps. I walked ahead of him toward the kitchen to set down the pizza boxes. The kitchen was in total disarray; empty, half-crushed beer cans littered the counters and filled the sink. There were ashtrays filled with cigarette butts, frozen burrito wrappers. To be honest, the place looked like a shit hole.

Ed stumbled into the kitchen, plopping down in one of the stools at the island. He put his head in his hands, staring down at the countertop.

“Kendra?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry that you are seeing me this way.” His voice was stone cold now.

“Is this why I didn’t know you were living here for two weeks before your friends came to visit? This is what you were doing?”

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling all of the joy and wonder and magic of the last two weeks slowly seep out in my deep exhale. This was a straight-up turn off. It was clear that he had been on a total bender, alone, since what? 30 hours ago when I dropped him off here after holding his hand in the car? This was like a totally different person. I could just walk away now, cut my losses. I had done this shit before, in a past life, and had no desire to repeat that history.

But then he looked up at me from his hands, tears in his bloodshot eyes. He looked utterly defeated. Where was the cackling, ginger-haired man child? Was this because of his friends leaving? I didn’t understand. I mean, you barely know him, no shit you don’t understand.

I made a decision then, straightening up and bringing my eyes up to meet his.

“Okay, we’re going to talk about this another time, but why don’t I get you a glass of water and some of this pizza? To be honest, I think you could stand to sober up a bit.”

He nodded solemnly. I turned back to the cabinet and pulled out a glass and a plate. I cracked open the pizza box, snagging a slice and taking a quick bite of it myself, then threw a couple slices on the plate and slid it in front of him. I walked over to the fridge, filling the pint glass with crushed ice and then filtered water. I began opening drawers, rummaging through their contents, trying to locate a straw. I spent three months as a bartender, once, where I learned that drunk people will always drink more water if they’re sucking it down through a straw.

I brought the glass of water over to him. He was eating the pizza, good. I set to work cleaning up the kitchen, turning a few lights on, clearing up the beer cans, booze bottles, and rubbish from the countertops. Another quick check in on Drunky McSheeran told me he was drinking his water, too, good.

I quickly took the trash out, and flitted back inside to open a few windows. It was cool outside and this place definitely needed some fresh air. I found the stereo that was on and switched it off. Ed was helping himself to some of the garlic bread, that was a good sign. It felt good to be productive at least. I wandered back over to Ed and sidled up in the barstool next to him, reaching over him to grab myself a piece of pizza.

He rested his hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do allthis.” He stumbled over his words.

“Hey,” I rubbed small circles at the top of his back, “It’s okay. I got you.”

He dropped a pizza crust onto his plate and slurped down the rest of his water. “I think I should lie down,” he mumbled, “not feeling s’hot.”

“Okay, why don’t you lie down on the couch over here.” And in the meantime, I’ll locate a puke bucket.

He stood up from the counter and sauntered over to the couch, crawling on top of it and lying on his side. I opened his walk-in pantry and saw a stack of mixing bowls, grabbing the biggest one and taking it over to him.

“Here, Ed, in case you get sick…” I said, setting it on the floor beside his head.

For someone who had totally brought this on himself, I was kind of feeling bad for him now. He looked so small; curled up on the couch, hugging a throw pillow to his chest, in yesterday’s clothes.

I thought he at least deserved a proper pillow & blanket, so I took off upstairs to grab one from the bedroom. I located my supplies and headed back down to the couch, spreading the throw blanket over him. He was passed out already. That's probably for the best. I looked up at the clock; 6:30 PM. Well, this was not exactly how I thought I'd be spending my evening. I lifted his head to slip the pillow underneath, for support, but my hands lingered there in his curly red locks.

I sat down on the oversized chair adjacent to the couch, not knowing what to do next. I probably could go home, but what if he like, threw up in his sleep and choked or something? Not likely to happen, but it was still a possibility. I grabbed the TV remote and clicked it on, selecting Netflix from the tv menu and turning on Lost, Season 1, Episode 1. Ahhh, old faithful. This could keep me occupied for a while.

I must have dozed off too at some point, because I awoke with a start and it was now dark outside. I glanced up at the clock on the mantle, it was a little past midnight.

Ed's POV

I came to, but didn't open my eyes at first. Quick assessment: ok, I feel like shit, but nothing out of the ordinary for this kind of liver abuse. Fucking thirsty. Need water. Where am I?

I cracked my lids open then. No glasses, hmm..okay, I'm sure they were around. I was covered in a pale grey fleece blanket with a paisley design on it, and there was a feather pillow under my neck, but I was stretched out on the living room couch. What the? And then it all came flooding back. My heart sank. Kendra.

I sat up, and saw her then. Curled up in oversized chair, she was asleep with the TV remote in hand. To be honest, she looked adorable: messy bun all piled up on top of her head, no makeup, just a tee shirt and leggings on.

Oh, shit. Here I had gone on a dark & twisty, solo bender and this gorgeous girl had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I checked my surroundings. The pillow and blanket was definitely her doing. I'd slept in a lot worse conditions than just a couch while pissed up, God knew that. Next I spotted a large stainless steel bowl on the carpet beside the couch. Shit, I hope I didn't...

There were three bottles of water next to the bowl too, and I scooped one up, tossing the cap and drinking nearly the whole thing in one go. I turned and surveyed the kitchen next; gone were the piles of rubbish, and there were pizza boxes on the island countertop. That must have been Kendra's work too, because he had discovered earlier that no pizza joints delivered to this neighborhood in the off-season.

I felt a sick knot in my stomach, realizing what she must think of me now. Such a fuck-up. She must have wanted to share a slice with me, maybe cuddle up on the couch and finally talk about what had been going on between us, now that the rest of the group had gone home.

Instead she got this. I could just fucking picture it, here I am, reeking of sweat & shame, having just boozed & chain-smoked my way through the past 24+ hours.

She woke up, then, with a jump. I watched her eyes open, clearly also confused for a sec on where she was.

“Oh. Good morning, Sunshine,” she said, sarcasm just rolling.

“...hi…”

“Can't imagine you're feeling too hot. What, you slept for about 6 hours? Think you’re even below the legal limit yet?” Well shit.

“Shit, Kendra, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry you had to see me that way.” I didn't have an excuse to give.

“Yeah, you said that before. I mean, it's none of my business what you do really. I just didn't want you to choke on your own vomit and die.”

This girl took no prisoners. She was calling me out on my shit. Usually everybody around just put up with my antics, either because they were on my bankroll, or didn't want to offend me. It was honestly like a breath of fresh air.

“Look, Ed, I'm sorry -- that was harsh. I don't know you that well, and I have a feeling that you're dealing with some shit right now. I can't pretend to know what unique set of problems come with, being, well.. You...and Christ, I have a drink to relax or take the edge off after a long day, but that’s not what this is..”

She paused, closing her eyes for a minute, and looked back up at me.

“No,” I said, cutting her off. “There’s no excuse. You’re right.”

She got up from the chair and walked over to the kitchen island, reaching for her purse which was slung over the back of one of the barstools. I stood up from the couch and crossed the short distance to her.

“Wait, Kendra, please don't leave,” I felt like a real dick, asking her to stay, after she had already sat here most of the night watching over me, but I couldn't stand to see her go.

She stopped in her tracks, and turned toward me. “Why, Ed?”. Her big, almond-shaped mahogany eyes were looking straight up at me, pleading.

Shit. She knew, why, I'm sure. She wants you to say it out loud, you asshole.

“I...I really like you, Kendra.” Once the words spilled out of my mouth, I wondered why I hadn't said them before. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

Those big eyes were looking up at me again.

Kendra’s POV

“Why are you here, Ed? You’re not on a leisurely vacation or spending your time off work with family. Why are you here in this house and not at home?” I was prying now.

He sighed. “....A couple of months ago, I found out my girlfriend was cheating on me. Like, not once or twice. She had an affair the entire time we were together. I finished up my Asia tour dates, thought I was holding it together just fine, but then work stopped for a while and I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. I didn’t want to go back to England. I wanted to be by myself for a while,” He said, avoiding eye contact with me.

Oh, well that explains some things.

I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter, and walked over to take a seat on the couch. Ed followed suit, taking up the seat on the opposite end. I turned inward, my back up against the armrest, drawing my legs up into my chest. He remained seated forward, talking to the floor in front of him.

He went on. “I told myself I was coming here for ‘solitude’, but that’s not really the truth. I was coming here to wallow. And I did. But then my mates flew in, wanting to cheer me up, and my pissed up idiot friend spotted you from the kitchen window and immediately fancied you, so he invited you over. I was just trying to keep my distance. But as I got to know you, I couldn’t do that anymore.”

He looked at me then, sorrow contouring the lines of his handsome face.

“Honestly, it felt like a trick, to stumble upon you after that….disaster. I love music, I love my job, my life… but it’s not a normal life. Relationships need normal. It never works out for me. I’m away too much, or people see me as a way to get what they want. When I met you, here, it kind of felt like the Universe giving me a big F-U.”

Wow is he dropping some truth.

“You’re beautiful, and smart, and funny, and you’re so good at, like, everything. You’re independent and I’m envious of that. I can’t even be left alone for one day. You deserve better than me, Kenn.”

He finally fell silent.

“That’s not your call to make,” I spoke at barely above a whisper. My anger had totally dissipated. He was so raw, so honest with me. I felt like I owed it to him to be the same.

“Do you know why I’m here, Ed? This is my home, now, but when I came here two years ago, I was a total wreck.” His ears perked up now. “About a year prior to that, I was particularly pissed off after a long day of getting my ass handed to me at work. I stopped off at the store and bought a bottle of vodka and.. a powerball ticket. I tucked the ticket into the visor of my car and went home and drank at least half that bottle. But I won. I had every single number right and I won. A lot. It was amazing, at first, like living a dream. But within weeks, word got out and I had to change my phone number and shut off all of my social media accounts. Within months, I practically had a nervous breakdown, every single person in my life had their hands out and I wanted to give them everything they wanted, all of them, and I could have, but they weren’t there for me. I couldn’t handle it, so I just left. I didn’t say goodbye to anyone but my Mum. And that’s why I’m here. I can’t date; I can’t make friends. Once people find out what I have, it’s all they care about. I see it in their eyes.” I laughed, “You think I’m a strong, independent girl by choice? It’s because I’m the only person I trust. You have nothing to be envious about. It’s fucking lonely.”

God, it was like an anchor had been lifted from my chest. My eyes were stinging, welling up with tears. I fought them back.

He lowered himself from the couch to the floor and scooted over in front of me, wrapping his arms around my hips and laying his head down in my lap. We stayed like that for a few striking moments, not saying anything.

He sat back, withdrawing his arms.

“We're pretty fucked up, aren't we?” He said, out of nowhere. I couldn't help but burst out into laughter, nodding. Ed laughed along with me, too, his throaty cackle causing me to geek out even harder. We were delirious for a minute, like our bodies just needed to do something to shake up the feelings about what had just transpired. We both died down, falling silent again.

“What I feel for you is real, Kendra. I've never felt anything like it. I'm just drawn to you,” He squeezed my hand, those pretty blue eyes looking right into mine.

“I feel that way about you, too, Ed.”

“Then let's give this thing a proper go. I don't have much time left to spend here, maybe another six weeks, but I want to spend it with you. I want to do it right, too, take you on dates and spend hours talking until the sun comes up. I want to know everything about you.”

Gone was the defeated boy that lay here just hours earlier, this was a man, with resolve in his voice.

He went on, “I think, though, this means taking things slowly. I hope you understand. I want to do this right, Kendra, if you'll have me.”

I leapt down to the floor, pressing my body against his, holding him tightly. We kissed then; softly, sweetly, his hands coming up to cup my jaw.

Our lips broke apart. “Yes.”

It was the start of something beautiful.

****************************************************

Ed was back to his cheery self the day after our talk. He knocked on my door late-morning, a bouquet of fresh daisies in hand. He was wearing a dark chambray button-up shirt with a crisp white tee underneath, matched with black jeans and sneakers. He had a pair of aviators tucked into the top of his shirt. The effect was quite stunning.

“Hey, love, I got somethin’ for you,” he said cheekily, handing the flowers over and plopping a kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you! They're beautiful,” I brought them up to my nose to inhale the fresh floral scent. “Come in, I'm just finishing up in the kitchen.”

He kicked his sneakers off, abandoning them by the front door.

I quickly located a vase and cut the stems of the daisies, submerging them in water. My kitchen was a total mess, dirty pots and sauce pans and measuring cups strewn about, ingredients still sitting out on the countertop. It was my weekly ritual to prep a few meals and desserts for Augie, the captain who kept my boat tour business afloat, quite literally. I had met Augie at a dive bar over in Boothbay when I first moved here, and he and his wife kind of took me in. He was older, late sixties I think. We formed a fast friendship and he started taking me out on the water, teaching me how to pull up the big lobster pots, expertly navigating the harbor. He taught me to sail, too, though I wasn't comfortable going out too far without him. Augie had worked his whole life as a fishermen, having retired just before we met. He told me his dream had always been to run a boat company and well, I made it happen. He and his wife had showed me so much kindness, it was the best way to repay them.

“Sorry for the mess, I'm just making a few things to bring over to Augie for the week. I'm just about done and then I was going to run into town to drop this off for him.”

Ed had met Augie that first week when we went out whale watching. The two had hit it off instantly.

“That's sweet of you, love. What's the occasion?”

“Oh, his wife passed away last Spring, and I've been doing it ever since. They were married like, 45 years or something, and she did all the cooking before..” my voice trailed off.

“Here, let me give you a hand with this stuff,” he began clearing dishes off the counter. I wasn't about to argue, technically he did owe me from the day before.

I had an oldies station playing softly in the background. Together, we made a good team, Ed rolled up his sleeves and set to work washing dishes while I packaged up the different entrees I had prepared. Danny's Song was playing, and I heard Ed start to hum aloud. I couldn't help but smile.

Minutes later, he shut off the faucet and wiped down the counters. I stacked up all the containers in a big brown bag, threw in a bag of homemade cookies on the top, and with that, my care package was complete.

“Are you busy today?” I asked, “Do you want to run into town with me?”

“I am all yours. Let's go.” He wiped his hands and came over to kiss me, leaving a little taste of those delicious lips on my own.

I drove us into town, stopping first to drop the care package off at Augie's house. We cruised over to the harbor then, parking in the big lot and walking around downtown. I bought Ed his first whoopie pie, which he loved - such a sweet tooth, that one. We picked a few flavors and took a box to go.

He kept his sleeves rolled down and sunglasses on, but we were still stopped by a mom and a young girl on the sidewalk. Ed was so gracious, giving them both a hug and taking several silly selfies before saying good-bye.

We strolled down the boardwalk, hand-in-hand, stopping in some of the souvenir shops to see who could find the silliest item. We ended up leaving with matching Moose slippers and a few other knick knacks.

Hours had flown by like minutes. It was late in the afternoon, then, and neither of us had eaten lunch. We decided to grab a lobster roll & blueberry soda at one of the roadside stands.

“I really love it here,” Ed said, stuffing his face. “Would you be embarrassed if I ordered a second one? This is sooooo good.”

I laughed, “Go ahead babe, I don't blame you.” He walked back up to the order counter and was clearly charming the lady working, as I heard her laugh ringing out like a bell across the little gravel eating area.

He slid back into the picnic table bench with another sandwich. “What's next on the agenda, babe? Do you want to rent a movie to watch tonight?”

“Sure, there's a Walgreens up the road, we can hit the RedBox on the way home.”

We cleaned up from the buttery sandwiches as best as possible with moist towelettes, then headed back towards the car.

He let me pick the movie and we were on our way home, opting to watch at his place. Ed brought out a bottle of white wine, pouring two glasses and we snuggled in on the couch together to watch the flick. I finished mine, instantly feeling sleepy. Ed noticed right away and motioned me over to lie down with him, spooning on the couch. I shut my eyes just for a second and...

The first thing that registered was the feeling of calloused fingers brushing hair off of my forehead. I had this intense feeling of longing, like I had just been reaching for something just out of my reach, and then it was gone. Was I awake, or dreaming? I felt disoriented. Oh, holy shit. I fell asleep next to Ed on the couch...and he's still here.

“There she is,” he said with a sort of chuckle as my eyes opened and I assessed the situation. I was pretty sure I fell asleep as the little spoon, but now I was turned inward, facing Ed, our legs intertwined, my arms laced up and around him.

“Hi”, I said with a yawn.

“Some dream you were having, yeah?”

“Huh?” Ugh, my brain was foggy.

He cracked a smile, just a half grin, one side of his mouth tugging upward. His ocean blue eyes twinkled.

“I was just saying, you must have been having a great dream….you were, ah, a bit vocal in your sleep.”

Shit. I became acutely aware of the slight dampness between my legs. No….

“What? Did I say something? Oh my God, I am so embarrassed.”

“I wouldn't really call it talking...but there were a lot of adorable little mewing sounds..and, ah, little tiny moans…” he said, dropping the hard 't’ sound in little like he was prone to do.

I pulled my arms out from our cozy embrace and covered my eyes. How fucking embarrassing.

“Shit. I am mortified. I didn't even mean to fall asleep…”

He pulled my hands down from my face and planted a big kiss on my forehead.

“Don't worry about it. It was pretty adorable, actually.”

“How long was I out?”

“About an hour, I reckon.”

“I guess last night caught up with me. I never, ever fall asleep while the TV is on usually.” Nor do I normally dry hump someone's leg in my sleep, but I left that thought in my brain.

He closed his eyes, then, and his pretty pink lips came and landed on mine. He pulled my body in closer to his.

“What do you say we hit the hay, properly? This sofa isn't too comfortable. Let's go up to bed.”

“You want me to spend the night?”

“Yeah, well, if you want to? It's okay if you d--”

“No, it's ok, we can do that. I probably should run home and grab some PJ’s though.”

“Oh, you can borrow something of mine to sleep in, love, let's go upstairs.”

We untangled our limbs and got up from the couch. Ed clicked the television off and gathered up the empty wine bottle & glasses as I stretched my arms upward, and rolled my neck back and forth a bit, I was a bit stiff from the sofa.

“Want a glass of water for your night stand?” He asked.

“Yes please,” I replied.

“I'll get this then, why don't you head upstairs and find something to sleep in? Help yourself to anything.”

He deposited our stemware next to the sink, opened a cabinet, grabbed down two glasses, and strode over to the fridge and began to fill the first glass with ice. I turned and walked up the stairs, feeling the plush carpet between my toes. My stomach was in knots, my nerves kicking in. I really hadn't slept in bed with someone else in...shit, a long time? In the few short-lived relationships I had had, we always hung out at his place and I always went home, no matter how late it was.

But then again, I felt comfortable with Ed. Clearly. I was honestly still shocked that I had even fallen asleep with him downstairs on the couch. Very unlike me.

I pulled on the top dresser drawer, finding it stuffed full of boxer briefs. Hmm, okay. Next drawer was all tee shirts. I peeked at one of the labels, a size Medium. Probably not the best idea, I wanted something to cover my ass at least. I walked over to the large walk-in closet and pulled a soft, long sleeved flannel shirt in various shades of blue from a velvet hanger. I undid my jeans, shimmy-ing them off, and pulled my plain white tank top off over my head. I unclasped my nude bra and off that went too, I kicked my clothes up into a pile and shrugged on the flannel. It was just right, me being only 5’2, it came down to about mid thigh. The sleeves were a bit long so I cuffed them up once. I pulled together all the buttons, then thought twice and undid just the top two. I was wearing white lace boyshort panties, luckily, and not a thong.

Ed came in the bedroom door, “Solid choice, love, that's my favorite shirt. Not much use for it here in the blazing fucking heat, though, for me at least. Looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” I beamed. “Do you have a spare toothbrush by chance?”

“Um, I'm not sure… I'll check.” He set the glasses of water down on the dresser and headed into the bathroom. I could see him pulling drawers open at random, shuffling through each one's content. “I guess I don't, sorry. If it doesn't gross you out, you can use mine? I don't mind.”

Luckily I'm not a germaphobe. “That will be fine, thank you.” Ahem. So proper, all of a sudden. I joined Ed in the bathroom, standing in front of the sink while he wet the toothbrush and squeezed some Crest out for me. He handed me the toothbrush with a wink and I went to work on brushing. Meanwhile, he was back in the bedroom, turning on the gas fireplace. I lost focus on brushing, though, when I saw him strip down to just his boxers. Oh. Those knots were back in my belly again. I rinsed my mouth and tapped his toothbrush off, leaving it on the side of the sink

He came round to my side of the bed (“my side??” what the fuck, K) and pulled the corner of the white duvet back, patting the grey sateen sheets. “All set for you, love”.

I climbed up into the king sized bed, pulling the pretty duvet up to my chin. I watched Ed take up place in front of the bathroom sink and brush his teeth, too, it sounded like he was humming something. I couldn't take my eyes off of him; I hadn't seen him shirtless before and had no idea that his entire chest was covered in the same bright ink that danced up and down his arms. He finished up in the bathroom, switching the light off in there and then the bedroom, and walked around the bed to climb in the other side.

I flipped over to lie on my other side, facing him, and he stretched his arms out toward me, so I scooted closer. He wrapped me up in a tight embrace and inhaled deeply, nose buried in my hair.

“Mint shampoo? This smells nice.”

“Yeah, you guessed it.”

“Kendra?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for staying with me tonight.”

“Is it weird if I tell you I'm a bit nervous? I guess I'm just so used to sleeping alone. But.. I like this,” I said, tracing the outline of his shoulders and biceps with my fingers.

“I know what you mean. I feel that way too. Would you... if you want, you could call me Teddy, y’know.”

I reached up to his scruffy head of hair and twirled one of his curly copper locks between my fingers.

“Teddy,” I said, trying it out, “I like that.”

The fireplace was blazing on in the corner of the room. But that wasn't the only burn happening here. I felt that burn through every inch of my body, yearning for this man, here right in front of me. It was like, just being that physically close to him had lit a fire in me. A fire that hadn't burned in a long time.

I kissed him, then, hard and longingly. He was quick to reciprocate, pushing his tongue into my mouth, exploring. His hands came up my shirt but stopped at my waist, just grabbing and pulling me into him even closer yet. I took initiative and pushed him so that he was lying flat on his back, climbing on top and straddling him.

He broke our kiss. “Kenn,” it sounded like he was protesting. “I don't want, I mean, I didn't ask you to stay the night, expecting this..”

“Shhhh,” I sat upright now, directly at the top of his pelvis. The fireplace gave just enough light in the room that I could make out the brilliant tattoos on his chest. “I know, Teddy,” I said, tracing the outline of the great lion’s mane. “Do you want me to stop?” Damn girl, you bold.

He was wide eyed, looking up at me in the glow of the flames.

“No.”

I leaned back down and planted a messy, fast kiss on his perfect pink lips. I then moved to his earlobe, leaving a little bite there and sucking it before moving back to his mouth. I could feel his bulge growing hard beneath me, and his hands were roaming my body freely now, grabbing onto my hips and giving me the friction I so desperately wanted.

“Will you sit up a bit for me?” I asked at a whisper, grabbing a pillow and tucking it behind him. His torso was propped up a bit now, those delicious lips even closer to me. His hands moved from my hips and up the hem of his soft flannel shirt, fingers grazing over my stomach and floating up to my waist.

“Can I unbutton this?” He asked.

I nodded, biting my lower lip. Hearing him ask that out loud had my blood just absolutely buzzing.

He started with the bottom button, moving ever so fucking slowly, up, up to the top. The valley between my full breasts just barely exposed. He took my right hand with both of his and slid it out of the cuff, tugging down gently to free my arm. The flannel shirt fell away from my right shoulder then and he quickly repeated the process on the other side.

My breasts were fully exposed now, I could feel those little sensitive buds beginning to harden under his intentful gaze. He brought his hands up to them, cupping them, so gently. He brushed his thumbs over my nipples simultaneously, sending a lightning rod through the nerves of my body right down to my core. His fingers expertly rubbed, and skimmed, and tugged, while my mouth fell open with barely-audible moans spilling out.

My hips were acting of their own accord, grinding out big circles over his pelvis. I could feel his rock hard cock so easily through my lace boyshorts and the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Teddy,” I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.

He took his hands from my breasts then, placing one on the small of my back and wrapping the other one behind my shoulder, pulling me down to him. He kissed me, hard, on the mouth, breathlessly muttering “You are so beautiful,” and proceeded to cover my whole neck with kisses, moving down my chest, planting those warm, wet lips on every square inch of my tanned skin. He brought his hands up to the indent of my waist and then took a breast into his mouth, expertly sucking and twirling and nibbling over my hard nipples. Another moan escaped my lips as he moved his mouth to the other breast, quickly using his hand to replace where his lips had just been.

Fuck, this boy was good with his fingers. And mouth. And oh, he's pushing back up into my pelvis now as I'm spreading circles over his. I am so aware of my slick wetness down there. Ed finishes sucking on my hard nipple and brings his lips up to meet mine, opening my own mouth with his skilled lips and tongue, a soft moan spilling out of his mouth this time.

I sit back up, pushing off of his sexy, strong chest and straddling him properly again. For a moment, his eyes just glare into my own and I can almost see him thinking, considering his next move or searching for the right words to say.

“Penny for your thoughts, sir?” I say, half teasing, half really curious as to what's going on behind those beautiful baby blues.

“I'm... just.. thinking about how it was my idea to take this slowly, and now you're practically naked in my bed, on top of me... panties soaking wet,” He brushed his thumb over the sheer fabric of my panties, right over my slit. “and you're so fucking beautiful, and cool, and now I want to do anything but take it slow.”

“Oh.” Yup. I got nothin'.

“I want to do right by you, Kendra, but I so badly want to make you feel good, right now, too.”

My heart like, basically just stopped. I must have looked like deer in the headlights, I could see the worry growing in his eyes every second that I was silent. He openened his mouth again, probably to apologize, but I quickly put a stop to that by bringing our lips together, yet again, trying to put all of my feelings into a single kiss, like some unspoken conversation, and I think Ed felt the same way too. He rolled to the side and, hands on my hips, guided me to lie flat on the mattress, his heavenly fucking body coming on top of mine.

His weight on me felt so good, so right. His mouth is everywhere, biting my ears, suckling on my neck, planting wet kisses all over my decolletage.. my hands come up and grip is muscular back, trying to touch every square inch of him to me. I'm moaning now, freely, as his hands grip up and down my body from my breasts, to my hips, up to my waist, over my stomach, and travel back downward, Ed shifting his whole body down towards my center, leaving kisses the entire way.

My entire body felt fucking electric.

Ed sat back on his heels, gently pulling my pelvis up into his lap, kind of at an upwards angle. Holy shit. He traced the outline of my panties, fingers dancing over the edges. He looks up to me, like he's waiting for the green light, and I nod my head, yes, it’s all I could muster.

He reached back to grab my ankle, bending my leg and bringing it forward, leaving little kisses all up and down my calf in the process. Putting that foot down flat on the bed, he took in my other ankle and does it all over again. I am silently whimpering at this point, the anticipation just fucking killing me. I have never been this turned on and he’s barely even touched me.

He hooked his fingers around the elastic of my panties and lifted my ass a bit, peeling away the white lace fabric from my body. My panties were stuck around my thighs now, as he picked up my left knee, threading the panties off around my foot, and wrapping my leg around his waist. Once more, same on the other side, I watched him tuck my ankle snugly around him, finally free of the last piece of fabric covering me. I tightened my grip on his torso a bit and heard a little groan escape his lips. He scratched the top of my thighs lightly, and brought his hands up to cover my lower belly, his thumbs just barely resting on my mound.

There was something so sensual about it… just barely enough light in the room for me to watch him, gazing so intently down there, at me. He moved one of this thumbs down to the bottom of my wet slit, dragging upward so slowly, barely dipping in, opening me up just a bit... and with that, it was fucking real, and suddenly the logical side of my brain turned on, realizing that I could count on one hand the number of times that I’d actually been able to come from someone else stimulating me. I froze.

“Teddy,” I choke out. “Wait.”

His pretty pink lips were parted, still staring straight down. He stopped immediately, bringing his gaze up to mine.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to… I, um, I have a hard time.. getting there.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Kenn, that doesn’t matter to me,” Another beat passes. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.” I answer, without thinking.

He swept down to kiss me, no tongue, his lips just pressing up against my own. He brushed the hair off of my forehead, his chest covering my own, and I couldn’t get over the feel of his skin on my skin. He moved his mouth over to the side of my faced and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got you, love.”

I wrapped my fingers up in the tousled locks on the back of his head, pulling his forehead to my own, staring up into those endless eyes. I nodded again, giving him a non-verbal yes.

He sat back on his heels again, making direct eye contact with me, biting his bottom lip, and shifted his gaze back down to my glistening nether regions.

He laid one hand flat on my pelvis, kind of grounding me. And then that thumb was back on my slit, dipping in, running bottom-to-top, again and again, deliriously slowly. I pushed my pelvis up towards him, my body reacting on its own, seeking friction. Ed added another finger into the mix, slipping further into my folds. It was both torture and bliss; his almost-rough fingertips just exploring me so patiently. I watched him watching himself touch me and holy fuck that was such a turn on, I thought about feeling self-conscious about it, but the horny side of me won that battle out pretty quickly.

His thumb came up to the top of my slit and rubbed slow circles in one direction, then back the other way. I grabbed fistfuls of sheets on either side of me and rocked my hips up towards Ed again. “Mmm, more, baby,” I muttered. He smirked then, and sunk his perfect middle finger all the way inside me.

I flexed my feet out, toes curling in, taking in the sight of this sexy man, all strong shouldered and rainbow design. Ed switched hands, removing his left from my pelvis and sinking his thick thumb into my opening, and picking up the rhythm on my clit again with his right hands, small circles and then bigger ones and back to small, all clockwise now.

“God, you are so fucking sexy,” Ed muttered as he slipped another finger inside me, picking up the tempo a bit and adding a little twist into his movements.

He was so steady, unwavering, so focused on what he was doing, and I bucked my hips up and pointed my toes and felt a faint warmth building low in my body.

I closed my eyes, letting my head fall to the side. “Fuck,” I whined, “just like that, yeah,” The warmth was building, Ed's fingers slipping in and out of my wet opening in perfect time with that rhythm he was playing in circles over my clit, he had me balanced out on this precipice of pleasure. The warmth was turning into a dull ache now, my back arched, and Ed was right there with me.

He sped up his rhythm just a tick and it intensified everything. “Baby…” I groaned out, turning my eyes back to see him watching my face now, biting on his lower lip again. Fuck.

He switched to a 'come hither’ motion, then, stroking my walls in just the right spot, and I fell over the edge instantly. I cried out, contorting my torso, squeezing my legs around his waist, still holding onto the sheets with my small fists for dear life.

I rode out the small aftershocks, stunned, and loosened the grip I had on Ed with my legs. I looked up to see the Smirk™ plastered across his face. He set my pelvis down, slipping out of his sat-back position and came to lie down next to me, threading his arms around me and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. I was still practically panting.

“That was… so good, Teddy, I can't believe I --”

“You are incredible, woman, come here.” and he nuzzled in closer, pulling the duvet back over our bodies. I turned to lie on my side, letting him be the big spoon again. I was very aware of his penis, hard, against my back. I wanted very much to make an introduction, but before I knew it, my heavy lids closed and sleep took me once again.

#ed sheeran #teddy sheeran #ed sheeran smut #ed sheeran fan fic #ed sheeran mature fan fic #smut

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ajadelight · 5 years

Text

Cell Phone Affair - Part Final

She hit up three more strangers for use of their cell phone and then retired to her apartment. She called Ralph. “What you got for me, buddy?” “I got John Morgan. He’s the head teller at Bank of Chicago in the Rantoul Branch. He’s married to Yvonne for 7 years. They have no children but don’t know why. She doesn’t work and looks like she doesn’t want to. Found a few pictures of her and she looks sort of on the dumpy side, probably from too much eating and excessive couch sitting during the day. She’s beautiful, but she doesn’t look functional or enthusiastic. I’d probably reject dating her.” Wow! Got a live one there. I sent a text about Clyde and Jean, and the one who fed me, Danielle. The other three are Jimmy, Susan, and Robert. I just gave them an intriguing bully type of invitation.” “Cool. I’ll work on the other three and I might have a film crew available on this one. Wow! You rock, Amanda. I mean I really admire your courage. I’d have been dead on the first one.” “Not if you’re goal oriented and have an abundant blessing of feminine wiles and persuasion. Wink, wink. Pout a little. Look a little innocent. Look like a waif a little. Expose my cleavage a little. And these jeans that I stained to look like I’ve peed really attract and distract the men. And some women too. And the doors open without offering up sexual activity. I love it. Catch you later.”

An hour later Amanda called Yvonne. “How’s it going, Yvonne? Are you feeling all dandy and happy?” “So-so. Who’s this? Why are you concerned?” “I’m concerned because of John, your husband. Do you know him?” “What? Why are you concerned with him? Who is this?” “Here we go again. Always want unimportant things first. Who are you? Why are you? Question, prod, question, probe, anything but listen to the important things first!” “Knowing those things might keep me from hanging up on you. I’m not used to dealing with strangers and strange phone calls.” “Okay. I’m Amanda Collins. You’re Yvonne Morgan. I’m concerned with your husband because of what happened this morning. He loaned me his cell phone to make a call. During that call, he learned that I’m going to die in four days and it really shook him up. However, Ralph called John several times until John yelled at him. Ralph doesn’t want to see me die. John is so-so about it, but he tried to talk me out of it.” “You’re going to die and you know when?” “Yes. It’s scheduled on Saturday at noon, at the fountain in Walton Park. You want to come and join the crowd?” “Really? Is it an execution, or something? Never hear about that at noon in public. That’s very odd.” “I know. However, it’s me. I’m going to shoot myself by the fountain.” “That’s a nasty way to go.” “I know. I thought of a hanging, but there’s nothing around to assist me. I know I could rent a portable scaffold, but I wouldn’t be able to return it.” “Bummer. I’ve seen a man hanged and it was interesting. I’d like to see a woman hanged. I could return the scaffold for you. Which company has that? Is it A 2 Z Rentals or Acme Jiffy Rent?” Amanda moved the phone away and looked at it crossly. What the hell? She thought. She is a live one. She’s talking like me. “Uh, it would be A 2 Z. They deliver and set up, but don’t pick up after use.” “Interesting. What about price wise?” “They have two models. One is you stand on a chair and put the noose around your neck and wobble the chair out from under your feet. You drop only a few inches at most but that method works. Your neck stretches a wee bit while the rope cuts off the air supply. My dislike is it takes 14-20 minutes to die slowly from suffocation. It runs $250. The other model is faster, but you need someone to handcuff you, then put the noose around your neck, and then pull the handle to release the trap door. That breaks your neck and hastens your departure. That one runs $675 and has the pulley, the rope with noose pre-made, the 1000-pound tested tie bar for securing the rope, a knife for cutting it afterward, and the handcuffs with no key.” “Hmm. That second one sounds better. It must stretch your neck more while it snaps your neck from your spine and does an instant tighten up on your windpipe. You could think, ‘Oh, fuck!’ but never have the time to say it. Are you sure I can’t talk you into that one? I’d help you. I’d love to see your dainty little feet kicking around for something solid and not finding it. I hear girls pee after a few minutes.” “No. I’ve already decided.” “Darn my normal luck.” “You’ll get over it. Before Saturday I’ll send you a link for some women hangings on-line. That should satisfy your curiosity and give you a thrill. Anyway, I have my granddad’s service pistol and it’s loaded. I’ll do it that way, but thanks for the offer. That’s kind of you.” “You’re welcome. Now, why are you doing it?” “Because I’m tired of being left out, not thought of, not cared about, unloved, disowned and unwanted. I was the prototype for caring about people, whether I know them or not. You’ll find that out in a moment. But people don’t return that. It’s like they’re one-way streets and never want to give back. So, Saturday at noon, POW! Let them be sorry for a change.” “I’m sorry you let it get that far, Amanda. What about me?” “You? I’ve seen some pictures of you and after seeing John this morning, I think you and he have problems with love, sex, and rock and roll. You do, don’t you?” Yvonne was silent. “Did he tell you?” “He told me nothing with his mouth. Most men don’t unless they’re dealing with a prostitute. Then they slip her a couple of 20s and flap their gums something fierce. But I saw the way he watched me before my odd request. I drank too much the night before and I peed myself and he couldn’t seem to break away from that fact. Then I saw some pictures from the wedding online and then some of you now, and it breaks my heart, Yvonne. He hasn’t done you in what, maybe 3 months?” “Try 4 and it’s not because I haven’t tried, I do. He ignores me or just tells me to quit and moves me aside and opts for another channel on television and most often with a beer. And I try, Amanda. I even walk naked between the sofa and the television and he waves hard at me and tells me to get the F out of the way and get some clothes on. I don’t know what to do! One of his buddy’s is putting the make on me, but I’ve ignored him, so far. However, I’m getting desperate enough to take him up on that offer, regardless of the hell that might break loose. I mean I want it bad and he’s like from another planet where that doesn’t happen.” “Do you want some help? “Yes, please! What am I doing wrong?” “Well, get a grip and listen up. The first thing you do is lose those drab gray sweatpants. You wear them all the time, don’t you?” “Yes.” “Stop. Do you have ginger in the house? Doesn’t matter if it’s raw or powder.” “Yes. We both like ginger so I have some fresh root.” “Good. How about miniskirts and halters?” “Yes.” “Good. We can’t do anything about the tummy today, but we will get you laid. You can go to a gym and start a healthy nutrition plan on your own soon. For tonight leave your sweats and chartreuse tee in the hamper. Shower and dry everything but your coochie. Then, while it’s still slightly damp, rub it with some fresh ginger root and put your pants on. Top that with a short mini and a halter without the bra. Tie your hair back in a tail and use the same ginger root to dab behind your ears. Lose the necklace. Leave your skin there, inviting for some nibbling. Then don’t mention or even hint at sex. Just do what you normally do without that intrusion, add that temptation and tease, and before the night’s over, he’ll have you in bed and breathless. Can you do that?” “Yes. That sounds kind of exciting, even for me.” “Good. Then hit the gym and don’t diet. Consult with a nutritionist and let them help you lose the tummy fat and tone up your legs and ABS. And never parade naked in front of him, never. Try to adjust your habits so he never sees you even half naked. If you want a max tease to rip his pants open, stop undressing with a tight bra on and keep the rest covered, unless you drag him in the shower with you. Lock the door when you bathe. Change clothes there instead of standing over him in bed. Mysterious yourself up some. Keep the lights dim enough to be scarcely visible or don’t even let him kiss you in the bedroom unless the lights are completely out. Burn some candles for dancing light and lots of dark wispy shadows. Shift positions and move or slap his hands lightly to slow him down when he tries to uncover the good stuff. Make him work to get what you make him want. Your mystifying coochie will take care of everything else. And trust me, he can use it and never see it. All he needs is his fingers and his fence post when it’s ready. You can cut off the visual for the remainder of your together intercourses and he’ll be happy. So, will you for that matter.” “SCORE!” “That’s the ticket, Yvonne.” “What about daytime interlude that’s not planned?” “Fit your bedroom windows with heavy curtains and insist it happen there. Keep the curtains closed and when you reach the point of letting our clothes come off, cover from the waist down with a bed sheet. Force it to happen without even seeing your legs. And when you’re ready, adjust the sheet ONLY enough to let him inside while he’s kissing you or watching your eyes. Mystery! Imagination! Secrecy! Concealment! Keep yourself changing and put a different x on every treasure map you spring on him.” “Dang, Amanda. That sounds very exciting. My what a wellspring of sexual knowledge.” You can do it. Just practice them all and teach him to work with your sensuality until you get it.” “I will. Thanks, Amanda. I wish I could help you. I have your number, so I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what happened.” “Thanks, sweetheart. You do that and have a great night tonight.”

She took a break and called Jean. Immediately Jean was on her case. Who is this? Why are you calling me?” “Your moral conscious, honey. This is Amanda. I talked with you, or rather listened to you yell at me earlier today. Remember?” “Yes. Why call me again?” “Because all that yelling told me you’re horny and not getting regular sexual relief. Otherwise, you’d not have been so hostile. Instant answer, please. True or false?” Jean sighed. “True. I thought it was you exhausting him.” “Nope. Social media is good for some things, Jean. It’s good for visuals versus a sexy voice, like you possess, at least on the phone. You’re dressed most of the time like the last woman I just helped. You dress comfortably in your own home, but to Clyde and the rest of the world, it sure looks sloppy and makes you appear very unkempt. The clothing and your body language say you’re a homeless woman but living in a home and wondering why you can’t get laid.” “Wow! That pisses me off, but I like your blunt approach.” “And right off hand, I’d say that you’ve not showered in 4 or 5 days and if you dropped your jeans, you’d probably smell like piss. That’s not a sexual turn-on for most men or even women. Why don’t you shower more frequently?” “Because I don’t think I smell bad.” “To you, maybe not, but to Clyde and other folks, you stink, honey. Besides the lack of smelling your own BO, why? Is there a reason?” “I don’t like to spend the time doing that. It takes 20 to 30 minutes and since I’m married, I didn’t figure it would matter that much. It’s not like I’m trying to date him and get his attention.” “Well, news flash, honey buns, if you want to get laid regularly, you need to spend the time bathing, or else spend the time with fantastic plastic for a cheap unsatisfying thrill. How’s that for blunt?”

“Pretty much in my face,” Jean said. “That’s the way I roll. And if I were straight or lesbian, your waist would be the line of demarcation, if I could get that far. Stale sweaty skin is up there on the gag scale.” “Oops! That hurts, but it makes sense. Why hasn’t he complained about it?” “He has. Every time he rejects sex with you, that’s a complaint. Every time he holds you at arms’ length, that’s a complaint. If he sniffs loudly and wrinkles his nose, that’s a complaint. But if you don’t understand and make an adjustment, then he has options to take care of himself.” “Oh, boy. That sucks!” “Sure does. From the cursory time I was with him today, I don’t see him going outside for another woman to handle the sex. It must happen when he’s in the shower, or you are and he disposes of the evidence. And you’d be so down on yourself, you’d never think of looking in the trash for a condom or something else to show.” The phone dropped and she heard mumbling in the background until she picked it up again. “I’m hurting. I’d never have thought to look. I’m sorry, Clyde, but just you wait. You’ll not have the chance to do this again; not unless I’m doing it for you.” “What?” asked Amanda. “A paper towel that can’t be denied.” “Um, um. I just got off the phone with another woman who had a similar problem. The solution is the same for you. Do you care to listen?” asked Amanda. “Yes. Since you figured me out so swiftly, lay it on me. I’m really hurting now. Are you really going to use the gun on Saturday?” “Yes. I can help other people, but I’m finished trying to help myself.” “Is there no way to stop you? There must be somebody or a group of people who can love you enough to keep you loved and wanting to be alive. Are you sure I can’t help you back enough?” “Hey, girlfriend, there’s always hope. Show up 20 minutes early on Saturday and give me the best Used Car Sales pitch the world has ever heard and we’ll see what happens. You might luck out. We both might luck out. Just show up and hit me with your best shot.

“Now pay attention to what I say. I want a call in the morning with a victory shout.”

Saturday morning at 11:30 Amanda was at the fountain, dressed in her clean but ragged clothes. She lay the weapon down on a chair by the table and covered it with a newspaper. Jean arrived at 11:35 and did not wait for her prepared sales pitch. She finished and stood back to see her effect on Amanda. “Man, that was good! You want to be that close a friend with me?” “Yes, and if necessary, I’ll become bisexual to keep you healthy, adjusted, and very alive.” A rental truck appeared and hailed her. “This is the place. Unload them next to the fountain. Jean watched as 6 tables and 36 chairs appeared and Amanda conned them into setting them up for her. Before they left, a DJ parked behind their van and asked where to put the equipment. Amanda showed him and then turned to a curious Jean. “Hey, girlfriend. That sales pitch really impressed me. We’ll give it a great try because I don’t want to die right now; not with so many people loving me. It’s wonderful to find someone who believes, acts and loves like you do.” She gave her a kiss on the mouth. “Great news! So, what’s really happening here?” Yvonne appeared and ran to join them from her car. “Okay, which one is Amanda?” “Me. I am the guilty party,” Yvonne grabbed in a bear hug. “Great. I’m Yvonne and I’ve destroyed all the death threats against you and all the bodily harm I wished to inflict. Wow, did I get laid! Felt like a virgin, losing it again after 4 months. Awesome! Now, can we stop this silly horse shit that you are committing suicide?” “Okay. You convinced me to live.” Two food vending trucks pulled up and parked on the curb. All the parties were right behind them and they all gathered at the fountain and waited anxiously for Amanda to speak or fire the weapon to take half her head off. She beckoned to Susan to stand beside her. “Hello, friends. Welcome to my suicide party. Thank you so much for showing up. I really didn’t want to do this, but what the hey? I wanted to get your attention. I’ve done all I can for you over the years. I’ve not missed a birthday or anniversary yet and I’m waiting on you to get busy with babies so I can add them to my heart and communication list. And while I waited, I also waited for this, but you missed it 3 times. DJ, hit it.” The DJ played Happy Birthday and Amanda started singing it to herself as the people blushed and then joined in at her request. She laughed with them about how she put the hoax over on them and welcomed the new additions to her friendly family. “The food vendors are the grill and drink stand for today. It will cost you nothing. I’ve saved three years for this day. What makes it extra special is I’m coming out today. I just can’t hide it any longer.” The DJ stopped the music and the gathering grew deathly quiet and watched her expectantly as she hugged Susan and kissed her cheek. “Yes. Ralph is not my biological brother. He just acted that way, until 3 months ago and we became lovers. And now we’ve encountered an oops and I’m like 9 weeks pregnant. And since we’ve loved each other undercover for so long, next month, same time, same place, we expect you all to join us here when we say our wedding vows. In the meantime, happy birthday to me and please party down!”

The End

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