As I thrust into her, she said: "You can love her, Aiden, and she'll be worth it. But if she doesn't see sense, I hope you'll be more careful in protecting yourself the next time."
"Yes, Ma'am," I felt tender warmth at her concern.
She turned again, so that she was facing me, and traced a finger down my cheek. "You're a blessing, Aiden," she said. "When I showed Zoey the power of a female-led relationship, I overlooked the importance of a man who will accept that leadership, and encourage it without sitting back and letting the woman do all the work."
"Yes Ma'am."
"Now, fuck me, Aiden," she said, and I took up my rough pounding of her again as she urged me, "Do it - I want to feel your hot come filling me."
I held her hips firmly and plunged into her hot flesh as she reached underneath herself to flicker her fingers over her clit. My cock was like a rapier, gleaming with her juices, so hard and straight and long, buried up to the hilt with each thrust.
Then I was coming, my body shuddering as I pumped my thick cream inside her pussy, my orgasm bursting through me, making my entire body shudder as I emptied myself into the beautiful chief.
Afterwards, she remained in her chair, watching me pull on my clothes with a look of real satisfaction on her face.
"You'll go far, Aiden Jones," she said, and I could see she was touching herself between her thighs, quietly stirring her fingers in her pussy, apparently reveling in the presence of my come.
"Thank you, Ma'am," I said.
"You be sure to come back and see us some time."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Okay, roll the montage. You know - the one about the guy that's just walked out on the love of his life.
You know the kind of thing - the sad walk through familiar neighborhoods as he deals with the sudden loss of such a huge part of his identity, the warm summer passing to chilled autumn with dead leaves falling all around to signify the sadness and ending of the summer's romance as he continues his attempt at recovery from the vicious hole in his chest that just won't close over, even after countless dinner parties with smugly married friends and all-night drinking binges with his rapidly depleting host of single friends.
All the while you're thinking: "You idiot! It's so blatantly obvious she's The One, and here you are moping around because for some stupid reason she doesn't meet your ridiculous standards, rather than forgetting about that little thing you got your panties all twisted over, and going after her to win her back."
I did it all - the moping, the blubbering, the consoling myself with liquor. I'd never felt such unbelievable pain before - couldn't believe such pain was possible.
It's so much simpler in the movies - the characters have a gloomy moment or two, where they realize they've made some big mistake, they've been stupid, there was never any reason why their relationship shouldn't have just worked out. There is some kind of Life Lesson Learned, and then they can just go out and get the Love of Their Life back, just like that.
It can be as stupid as When Harry Met Sally, where he just suddenly comes to the conclusion that he loves her, and that's enough to get her back into his arms. Or Notting Hill, where his cuddly chums help him realize that despite the extraordinary differences between a lowly man living comfortably in the most expensive part of central London and a Hollywood actress, he's forgotten that actually, she's only an ordinary member of the opposite sex, and technically able to fall in love with anyone. Or, to turn it around, in Pretty Woman where she walks out on him because she doesn't like his friends thinking she's a prostitute, and after five minutes without her, he just drives over to her house and without even saying a word to her, she falls into his arms and it's happy ever after.
I watched a lot of romantic comedies during my grieving period - an attempt to find meaning in my situation, I suppose. Only, my situation wasn't reflected by any of them.
The little thing I got my panties all twisted over - that was keeping this guy from fully accepting this Love Of His Life - was the fact she liked occasionally sleeping with her ex-, who hit her and abused her, and was generally a disgrace of a human being.
Sure, there were times where the pain got so bad, I was sorely tempted to make one of those mad dashes across town you see in the third act of the typical rom-com - running through the streets because my brain can't handle motorized transport at such a time - to get to Zoey and tell her it doesn't matter any more, she can have Brandon as well, so long as I get to have her too.
But after a certain point in a break-up, you think the other person's long-since moved on, forgotten about you. You're only going to make your own pain worse to see her happy with Mr Somebody Else.