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I take the deepest breath I’ve ever asked of my lungs, listening to the rushing water below. One hundred and thirty feet below. My legs dangle in midair as I sit on the ledge, the enormous park behind me oblivious to my presence. A warm breeze ripples through my long brown hair.Holding that breath, I look down.I stare at the distant, fast-paced river below without really seeing it, aware of the sun on my skin and the birds in the trees, drowning in the white noise of laughing families.An ecosystem that isn’t my own.The weight inside me is so hefty it not only exists uninvited, but demands payment for its presence. The cost is everything. My senses are hypersensitive, never more sharp — heart never more dull.I feel more than hear him stop behind me.“Hey.”I don’t turn. He doesn’t move. His presence jolts my soul back into myself, the ringing in my ears a little less pressing. I try not to focus on him, hoping he’ll leave. A moment turns into a minute, and when he finally does unpause, he comes to my side. Eyes on the canyon, I see a pair of legs sweep over the side of the bridge beside me. Beside those legs are a pair of fuzzy feet. I glance up.The eyes of this stranger are so deep I fall in. Staring at me thoughtfully, his brown hair rustles in the summer air, dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans. Beside him sits a teddy bear.”That’s a dangerous game.” I blink at him. He nods to the sandals on my feet, precariously teetering. “You might lose a shoe.”I stare at my toes, two-week-old pedicure evident by chipped polish. It was an effort to make myself feel better, inspiration from one of my mother’s many theories: “Putting yourself first isn’t a bad thing, honey. The inside can’t shine if the outside’s caked in dirt.” If I told her it felt like an empty gesture, what would she say? I wonder about the person beside me. The purpose of his gesture.”Not every woman has a high regard for her shoes.” There is no irritation in my small voice. One side of his mouth pulls up.”I was more concerned about your feet on the journey home.”I shrug. “There are worse things.” The silence stretches between us. I try not to look uncomfortable because of it.“What happened?” Empathy is him.“I don’t know what you mean.”“I bet that usually works,” he muses of my dismissal, my lie, squinting at the green mountains. “Always has for me.”“If it’s not broke,” I retort. By his answering smile, you’d think I just gave him a sincere compliment.“I’m Zack.” He offers his large hand, palm squarish and broad, veins running up his forearm. Hesitantly, I take it.“Millie.”“A pleasure.”“Is Side Escort it?”He laughs quietly. “It is.” He nods.“Give it time,” I mumble, earning an intent observation from him.“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll pass.” His reverence is weighted. I hold his gaze, hoping my eyes don’t look as glassy as they feel.“Who’s your friend?” I ask to distract the thought. The permanently cheerful teddy beside him could be admiring the view, beady eyes on the gorge.Zack glances at the light brown bear, then at me.“He’s for you, I think,” he says, passing it my way.“Me?” I lean away, reluctantly taking the stuffed animal.“I was on my way to see some friends. Passed a street vendor back there and had to get him. Wasn’t sure why, but I think I do now.”I look at him like he’s crazy. Zack smiles. ~Two years later~ “Oh god,” I moan before his hand clasps over my mouth. His other hand is between my legs, two fingers so deep he’s practically lifting me up the wall.“Stay quiet, doll,” he whispers, ragged breath as tempting as his touch. I hum into his palm while humping the other, trying to find the strength. Zack’s wide, giving hand is a saddle, mimicking the motion of a racing horse as he roughly fucks my g-spot.He took me by the hand and led me to this nook off the dim-lit hallway, home of an ice and vending machine, a hushed sense of community behind each numbered door. Though we could be very un-alone at any moment, my concentration is elsewhere. When he touches me, my brain can’t process thoughts like worry. His mouth comes to mine, cradling my neck as he fucks me. Cock or not, there is no other word for the action of his ruthless hand.The sky is pitch outside the silent hotel, our home for the night — along with most of our friends and family. Zack and I don’t, however, get to share the same room. I thought I’d been unhappy on that front. Evidently, Zack had no intention of staying away from me that long. I fumble with his zipper as I ride his fingers, and when I’ve freed him from his confines, I stroke his thickness. My pussy clenches at the way it throbs for me. “Oh, Millie.” His low sigh makes my heart reverberate. I kiss him again.Zack pulls out of me and earnestly sucks my wetness from his fingers as I watch, blushing and horny. A movement we know by heart, he lifts me and I line him up, his head impossibly round, slick with precum in unnecessary preparation. He could look at me right, and I’d be soaked for him.Taking those first few inches, he growls and grabs my thighs from beneath, encouraging my legs to spread. I hang manavgat escort bayan from his neck as he fucks me into the wall, the rhythm of his push and pull creating orgasmic friction.Slack-jawed, I watch the way he grinds his teeth, how he lifts and lowers me to meet his every thrust, boxers low on his hips. The knot at the waist of my silk robe is loose, the collar open around my small, exposed breasts. He squeezes every inch of me, from the heels of my bare feet, up my calves, my waist, kneading my chest as I whisper my pleas.It’s been six days since we’ve done this. We were supposed to make it a week… The idea of what we’ll be doing tomorrow has had me aroused for hours, apparently having the same effect on him. His hand on my thigh at dinner was enough to make me violently impatient, though I teased him by wearing the stockings he likes. There was no way we could have waited another day, another second.Zack holds my gaze as he adopts a deep, steady pace. Reading his face is like reading a book, his expression as alive as the richest adjectives, as confessing as an unexpected plot twist. When his thumb goes to my clit, I lose hold of every strand of my composure, self-control released like a bouquet of balloons.“Zack, I’m coming!” I whimper, taking control and riding him hard, scratching at his back.“Millie, fuck,” he groans, forcing his dick as deep as possible and holding himself there as he joins me. The wet heat of his release inside me is adrenaline to my racing heart, and I beg him not to stop.His strength is admirable, holding me against the wall for another five minutes as we both refuse to move.When my breath is back to normal, I whisper, “I love you.” He smiles.“I can’t wait for tomorrow.” His response is much more than those three little words. ~~~ Twelve hours later, when the sun has replaced the moon, coherency for ignorance, I am walking down an aisle. Flowers in my hands, a veil on my head. At the end, waiting for me, is Zack, smiling bigger than I’ve ever seen, eyes shining and proud. The only other gaze I meet is my mom’s. Warm expression exactly the way I’ll always remember, she smiles at me from a commemorative photo resting on a floral embellished easel. I met Zack a month after she died. ~Five Years Later~ “I’m giving up.”“You can’t.”“I am.”“You haven’t tried hard enough to warrant quitting, Millie.”“I’m no good at this! I’ve been practicing, and I’ve been trying, but it’s not enough!”She pulled the car over. Turned her torso toward me, and all the fury I’d been harboring Escort alanya dissipated with her stern look.“You think everything should come easy?” It was harsh and penetrating and looking for an answer, so I timidly shook my head ‘no’. “You act like a little hard work will kill you.”I sigh. “I just…”“Just what? Think because you haven’t mastered this in a matter of weeks that you should give up?”I sigh again, more loudly. “I’m not a natural at this. You should see everyone else.”“Why are you comparing yourself to them? Your journey isn’t theirs.”“But-”“You think it’s hard now? Imagine how you’ll feel when you look back and realize you turned around right at the finish line. Nothing worth having comes easy, Millie. Even for those that seem like they’re doing better than you; you have no idea what they’ve gone through to get there. Sometimes a smile can be the biggest deception.”I tried to absorb her words, though at the time they rolled off me like water on rain-proof fabric.“Life is going to push you around. It’s going to pull the rug from your feet, and when you think it won’t get any worse, it will kick you while you’re down.” I looked up at my mother’s big brown eyes. Her next words were softer. “Nothing is fair, and the world owes you nothing. But if you try hard enough, if you look hard enough… you can’t imagine the beauty you’ll find.”I stare at the cutlery, my mother’s words replacing the faint music in the air, the ramble of the person across from me. I was fifteen and on the verge of quitting my dance studies. I wonder why that memory delved itself out now, here.“Have you ever been?” he says, pulling me from my reverie.“No,” I say, hoping he’s still referring to the museum in New York he brought up six minutes ago.“There’s nothing quite like it. The mixture of cultures and artifacts is incomparable.”“I’m sure,” I smile, trying to make myself present once again.Robert continues his monologue about the numerous galleries he’s been to — in and out of the country. I give an honest effort to immerse myself in what little I know about fine art as we eat our dinner, eventually moving onto a cleared table and glasses of wine as I ask him questions.“Would you like another?” He reaches for the bottle.“Actually… I should be getting back.”“Of course.” Robert nods, signaling our waiter, then pays the tab without fanfare. Outside, street lights glow beneath a blanket of clouds threatening to weep. Ever the gentleman, Robert hails me a cab and slips the driver a bill before I’ve even entered.We face each other, sharing that universal moment of hesitation after a date. He says he enjoyed my company and takes a step closer. I’m surprised I don’t back away. My heart spins like a jet engine when his mouth touches mine, a million static thoughts burning a hole in my head as I start to give in, tasting his breath, lips perfectly kissable.
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