Dealing with It

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Dealing With It

WC 1379

Edith sat on the couch, dazed. Everything she had planned for the evening was dashed. It’s been a long time since my last anxiety attack. Thought I’d grown out of them.

She took the dishes to the sink and began rinsing them off. They always seemed to come when I let my guard down, when I let my feelings get the upper hand.

There was something about Charles she really liked. Perhaps "Like" wasn't the operative word. Despite being unsure of himself, he was rock solid. That’s what she needed in a man, someone who was an anchor, someone to cling to. The irony is, when I surrender to my emotions, that’s when I’m most vulnerable. That's when the anxiety becomes overwhelming and I lose control. Dad was right. I need to stay strong and on top of things.

The phone rang. It was her mother. “Are you OK? I heard a thud on the floor and then I saw Charles walking down the driveway.”

“Everything’s fine, “Edith answered. “He slipped on the rug while taking a call from his office.” She was in no mood for the conversation. The matter resolved itself, quite unexpectedly.

“There’s a car pulling up in front. It looks like your young man is back and he's not bringing pizza.” There was a click followed by the dial tone.

Edith’s heart leapt. She took several deep breaths as his footfall came up the stairs. There followed a quiet knock. She opened the door to the limits of the security chain.

“Got any left overs?" he asked, inquiringly.

Edith rolled her eyes. “Is that why you're back?”

“Why did you come back the other night?” He answered, turning the table.

It was a fair question. Lately, I find myself wondering the same thing.

He answered it. “Some things can’t be left the way they stand.”

She paused looking out through the crack. The light from the hall caught the glimmer in his eyes. Her heart began to melt. If I let him in there's only one way this will end. She looked down and saw the bulge in his trousers.

“Are you going to make me sleep on the deck?”

She removed the chain and let the door swing, still clutching the knob.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

His hands took her waist and he kissed her. Edith melted, pressing herself shamelessly. Through her skirt she could feel the hard outline, beating like a pulse. What kind of a signal am I sending?

He stepped inside, and threw the deadbolt.“

“That was an anxiety attack you had, wasn't it?"

"What if it was?" He's beginning to get it.

With a sympathetic tone he continued, "I want you to know I'm here for you."

Is that the only reason?

"I want to be part of the solution..."

Exactly what does he have in mind?

"...not the problem."

If she could believe it, the size off his swollen inseam was becoming even more pronounced. It drew her like a magnet, compelling her gaze. What had started as a quick glance lingered becoming a protracted stare. Nervously she averted her eyes.

He shifted uncomfortably.

"... And exactly how do you intend rescuing the poor maiden from herself?

Charles shrugged, his thoughts seemed uncertain.

"I know," she said sarcastically, "...with some old fashioned bedroom therapy."

"I don't even know where your bedroom is."

His answer was absurd and she pushed away in exhasperation. "You can get that right out of your mind.”

His eyes had a wistful look, mesmerized by her heaving bust. Still worse, she warmed to it. A tingle of desire began to resonate inside. The train was blowing its whistle and she was standing on the edge of the platform.

She remembered times in the past, ready to board, wanting to take the step. Once again she stood on the cusp of her mother's warning. Once a man gets it into you, a poor girl's lost. He replaces the slumber of innocence with an urgency that can't be satisfied. The torment is compelling. Like an itch that needs scratching, it wears you down. When at last you succumb, the relief is only fleeting. Because from that moment forward you must endure a host of compelling whispers and shameless pleas..., until you find yourself in a woman's way.

Standing on the brink, their eyes met, each wondering what would happen next. Once more she hesitated. This is where I always clutch. This is where I feel faint, hyperventilate and start breathing into the paper bag.

"Are you OK?" His voice came from afar and sounded almost surreal.

How do I put him off? Do I even want to put him off.? The outcome seemed inevitable until hearing her own words, speaking from afar. The voice seemed to come from outside her head.

“Lets take this one step at a time.”

She began undoing her blouse, surprised by her own actions. Even more surprising was what she said next.

“I’ll show you and then you can show me.”

The words were hardly out when what they implied, saw the light of day. It was like a wave breaking on the beach and then receding back into the ocean. They were unexpected, leaving behind an effect that lingered, as the deeper context sunk in. What have I just said? She looked closely, to measure his response.

Charles nodded in agreement.

Things are OK. I’m not sure where this is all heading but maybe it’ll work out for the best.. She turned her back to him, breathing with regularity, calmer than expected. She began working the buttons loose, one by one, until the last was undone. Opening the fabric she looked back over her shoulder.

He stood transfixed, eyes wide in anticipation.

Pulling the tails from her skirt she turned about. The seams hung loosely apart showing the cups.

Charles was riveted. He moistened his lips.

What do I do next? She reached behind and undid the retaining straps. The bra sagged falling off the cleavage. Her breathing continued in easy rhythm. Despite some nervousness, things were still under control. So far so good.

She reached behind holding the cuffs and pulled the sleeves from her arms. I guess there's a first time for everything.

His jaw dropped.

Noting an absence of anxiety she tossed it on the couch.

He stepped forward.

I seem to have things under control. “That's close enough,” she said.

He stopped.

With her thumbs beneath the shoulder straps Edith lifted and let the bra fall to the floor. Naked from the waist she stood revealing parts that were no longer confined to his imagination.

Charles dropped to his knees, extending his arms. His eyes pleaded. Taking an overstuffed pillow from the couch she put it between them and kneeling, pushed close. The smell of after-shave hung in the air as his lips introduced themselves, first to one and then the other.

As Edith experienced the intimacy, a warm glow spread throughout her body. It was euphoric, mingled with eagerness and desire. It sang with an uninhibited feeling of joy radiating through every nerve and fiber. The effect was euphoric and she reveled in a sea of unexplored sensations. His lips were gently, and the nibbling evoked an unfamiliar delight. His tongue searched the soft contours and teased the upturned fonts. The effect was overwhelming and she trembled with excitement.

“Do you like them?”

“I lov..."

“Shush,” she answered quickly placing her finger on his lips. “Save that for tomorrow.”

She snuggled close, feeding his lips like an infant. For a long while they lingered, enjoying the tenderness not wanting the moment to end. Then, Charles starting getting impatient. His got a glassy look in his eyes and hands became more insistant. He pushed her back and groping fingers tried to unbutton her skirt. Time to break the spell, With a strong exercise of will she pushed back, ...while I still have the strength to resist. She stood, and began putting her blouse back on.

"Now it's all on you Charles. Ready to hold up your end of the bargain?”