Falling (Meagan & Parker, Four Seasons Ch. 4...the finale?)

[Weasel 1,095]

Hey, everybody.

This is "Falling," Chapter 4 of "Four Seasons," the Meagan & Parker sequel I said I wouldn't write. We began way back in December with "In the Cold Midwinter", then continued with "Springtime Promises", then brought things to a fever pitch with "Summertime, and the Peein's Easy." (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm glad you still clicked on a post labeled "Chapter 4", and maybe you should start from the beginning!)

For those of you who remember, the "Summertime" story got our heroes in a really tough place in their relationship. I took pity on y'all and posted the beginning of "Falling" just so you could see that they weren't breaking up. But now it's time to take that a bit further.

Here's the upshot, though: I'm starting the chapter properly, so the first bit will be a repost. And I'm telling you right now (and bolding it so you won't miss it), there might not be any pee content in this story. This is really about wrapping up the emotional situation our heroes are in. So read on if you want to know how it ends; if you're looking for some quick sexy desperation, try one of my other stories.

It feels so epically strange to basically be posting a story on a fetish site not to turn people on, but to provide emotional closure... but I'm doing it anyway.

Okay, here goes. This first post is the repost; then we'll get into some new content.

 

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"Falling"

 

 

He woke up the next morning on the couch to the sound of a closing door.

He sat up, and his brain caught up. She’s gone.

Oh, thank God.

The night before, after the lightning had passed without a drop of rain, they’d scavenged some kind of supper. She’d said little, but hadn’t been totally silent. And the entire time he was waiting, silently begging, for her anger to begin.

Come on. Shout at me, throw things, hit me even. Show me I didn’t break you. Show me I didn’t snap you. Show me that I pushed you too far, but not so far you’ll never come back…

Instead she’d just been quiet. “Pass the salt, please,” etc. She’d brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, went to bed early. Didn’t tell him to stay away, but he’d exiled himself to the couch anyhow.

Please get mad at me.

Please get mad at me.

Please get mad at me.

So if she’d at last left the apartment and was gone, that was a beginning. Not a good beginning, but more familiar. More normal. Not that mouse-like skittish silence.

Not crying.
    
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She didn’t come home all day. Or that night.

Good, he thought. Our first big fight, she was gone two days. She needs time to calm down enough to get angry. Besides, she’s got classes all day.

He spent the day working through every job search trick he could think of, and then he he scoured the internet for more ideas and tried those too. He honed his resume, then created four or five different versions of it. Then he watched movies until he nearly fell asleep, and then he put the laptop away, brushed his teeth, and went to sleep on the couch again. But he got out a spare sheet; he needed something across him to really sleep.

The next day he tried to make a better budget, but kept running aground on his awareness that (a) Meagan was much, much better at it and (b) on an income of zero dollars, no budget ever worked. Between that and the tension of hoping that Meagan would walk through the door at any moment and start screaming at him, he couldn’t focus on movies and just watched videos on YouTube until the network gave out, and then he archive-binged webcomics, and then he lay down on the couch for the third straight night.

But lying in the semi-dark of the apartment, his thoughts raced and raced and raced. The twisted reassurance of her absence had faded. Now he was just worried that she was never coming home. It made no sense, of course—there was no way she’d abandon her car. But:

“Promise me that you’ll stay with me as long as you want to,” she said. “And you’ll leave me the day—the minute—you no longer want to stay. As soon as I start to hurt you, as soon as it’s no longer good, make it quick, and just go.”

Finally, around 1am, he got up and turned the lights back on. She’d left her backpack, and he went around stuffing things into it: toothbrush and tampons, wallet and car keys, her ancient laptop and its charger, her favorite underwear and her favorite shirt. He set the backpack down by the door. Then he wrote a note, set it on top of the pack, and collapsed back onto the couch to sleep at last.

Meagan—

Here are some things you’ll probably want.
You don’t need to wake me up say goodbye unless you want to.
I’m so sorry. I’ll love you forever.

Parker

 

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He awoke with Meagan’s arms around him, and he relaxed into her grasp—until he realized that he was still on the couch, and woke up the rest of the way as he floundered to his feet in confusion.

She woke up herself at that, and sat up, blinking. “Hey,” she said, quietly, muzzily.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you angry at me?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Thank God.”

She wrinkled her nose. “And good morning to you? I think?”

“I’d rather you were mad at me than at yourself,” he said. “I’d rather you were mad at me than broken.”

She slowly toppled over over onto her side. “Oof,” she said. “It’s too fuckin’ early for that level of emotion. Especially since the thing with the sheet.”

It was his turn to be confused. “Wait, what?”

“The sheet on the couch,” she said. “Means you’ve been sleeping on the couch since I left. Even though the bed was empty.”

He spread his hands. “I didn’t know when you’d come home.”

“Okay, if we’re gonna have this conversation now, I need coffee.”

“I’ll make some.”

“And a shower.”

“I’ll—um.”

She grinned, just a little. “Got you that time.”

By the time she came out, wrapped in a towel, the coffee was nearly ready. She took a quick sip before she even got as far as the bedroom to change. In the bedroom door she hesitated, just for a split second, and he leaped to his feet and headed for the living room, saying, “I won’t look!”

“Silly boy,” she called back to him. “Um—seems like some of my clothes are missing?”

“Oh, sorry,” he said, and grabbed the backpack from the door, and ran back into the kitchen.

“What the fuck—?” she said as he handed the backpack.  

“If you came back in the night and wanted to just get your stuff and go, but I was asleep, I wanted you to be able to grab a lot really quick. All the things I thought you’d need.”

“Okay, this I need to see,” she said, and dumped the contents of the bag out on the bed. “Tampons? You thought of tampons?”

He shrugged. “They seem important.”

“That they are. And here’s the shirt I was looking for… and, um, the bra…”

“Your favorites. Oh, uh, you don’t need the note anymore…”

She snatched it. Read it. Gave him a long look.

“I was just trying to help.”

She shook her head. “Fuck, lover. You don’t do anything by halves, do you.”

He shrugged.

“This is of course coming from the woman who just walked around campus for days,” she said.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“I napped in the library for a while.”

She dropped the towel. He started to leave the room, but she said, “It’s fine, hon, it really is.” So he stayed, but still didn’t look. He noticed, however, that she didn’t go to the dresser, meaning she was dressing herself entirely from the bag he’d packed for her.

“No socks?” she said.

“Damn it. I must have forgotten. It was past 1 in the morning…”

She shrugged. “Day like today, I can go barefoot.” She sighed. “That feels better.”

“Um. Do you want to talk now?”

“I want breakfast.”

“What do you want?”

“Just cereal is fine.”

“I can make you some eggs…”

“No, I just need something to shove in my mouth and stave off starvation.”

When they’d both eaten, and while he was washing up, she came and stood next to him at the sink. When he finished and set the last bowl in the disk rack to dry, she laid a light hand on his arm and said, “So hey. We need to talk.”

“We need to talk a lot.”

“But, uh, does it have to be right now? Because I really wish you could be kissing me. Can you just be kissing me now?”

“Really?”

She nodded.

He obliged.

“We’ll still… need… to talk,” he said, during the pauses.

“Uh-huh.”

“Like, we got some major issues…”

“Not… right… now.”

“Yeah, but, um… how far do you want this to go? Because you just took a shower and got dressed, so I’m guessing no sex…”

She pulled back. “I think we gotta wait on sex for a while,” she said.

“Well, yeah. I thought so. But, um, you were kinda feeling me up. And you just got dressed right in front of me, from being naked. So I was feeling some slightly mixed signals and I wanted to check.”

“Okay, see? This. This is what you should have—” She broke off.  

He waited.

“That’ll be one of the things we’ll need to talk about later,” she finished, awkwardly. And kissed him again, also awkwardly.

The rhythm was broken, and the making out tapered off.

“So,” he said.

“So?”

“Um. I know we’ll talk later, but, uh—are you breaking up with me?”

“That’s one of the things we need to talk about,” she said quietly.

His heart plunged through the floor toward the apartment below. “That’s a yes.”

“No, it’s a ‘We’ll talk later,’ ” she said firmly. She hesitated. “Are you breaking up with me?”

He sighed. “I really, really, really don’t want to,” he said.

“Not quite a no.”

“No. I mean, I agree.”

She flashed a grin at his confusion. “Okay. So we’re agreed on that. No breaking up until we’ve talked.”

“Agreed. But no sex.”

“No sex yet.”

“Kinda confusing, but I can work with it. Makeouts, however: yes.”

“Agreed.”

“Back rubs?”

“Massages in general: yes please. My feet and my legs are killing me.”

He started on her feet, knowing that doing those properly required his hands’ full strength. And then, when his thumbs could take no more, he started working on her calves, and then up to her… “Um, are you okay with me massaging your thighs?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Proximity.”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Whew, you really are tight. You walked the entire time?”

“Well, I did go to classes yesterday.”

“Whew.”

“You were worried I was skipping class? With exams coming?”

“I was worried a lot. About a lot of things. Oh, hey, want to see my resume? I worked on it a lot while you were gone.”

“I will absolutely read it,” she said, “but not right now.”

“Okay. You’ve got class, right?”

She shook her head. “Not today, it’s our study day. So actually, I might just nap for a while…”

“Okay.”

When she woke up, she stretched and said, “It’s way too hot in here.”

“Yup.”

“You and I,” she said, “never do great in extreme heat.”

“Does anyone?”

“…Okay, fair point. But what I mean is that we should go someplace else. Somewhere with air conditioning. Then we can talk.”

“We’re gonna have a deeply emotional and intense conversation in public?”

“Well, we’ll do it quietly.”

“Art museum.”

“Hmm…? Oh! That’s a great idea. Let’s do it.”

They drove. It was not an impossibly long walk; but they drove anyway.

“Oooh, there’s a photography exhibit!”

“I know, that’s why I thought of it.”

They walked through the columns to the front door, and then drifted through the first floor galleries, barely even noticing the art at first, just reveling in the AC. The photography exhibit was on the second floor, though, so they took the elevator up and admired it; and then they found the vertical gallery and Meagan wanted to know how far down it went; and when they got to the bottom of it, they saw that there was one more level down, and down there at the bottom, with almost no one else around, Meagan sat herself down in a corner and patted the spot next to her, so they could both lean back and still see each other.

“I’ll go first,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Can you just listen for a bit?” she said, more wearily than angrily.

“Sor—” he snapped his mouth shut.

Her lips twitched in amusement, but nothing more. A moment later she said, “I’m sorry that I kept snapping at you about money. Nobody’s born knowing how to do it, and a lot of people never learn, and you’re trying. You’ve got a—no. I’m sorry for assuming you knew things, and then getting mad at you when it turned out you didn’t.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper, even though no one seemed to be around. “And I’m sorry I called you a sicko. I promised myself after that time with Dacy that I’d never use your kink against you. But I did. It’s the kind of thing I used to do, before I met you. Use what the boys wanted against them. What I did there… that was evil.”

There was a long pause.

“You can ta—I mean, I’m done for now,” she said.

“Oh, okay.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry I pushed you too far. Way too far. What I did to you was inexcusable.”

“It’s not what you did,” Meagan said, “it’s how you did it. We could have done that, done all of that, if we’d talked about it first and agreed to it. But we hadn’t. You were just being a bully.”

Anger surged. “So that. That right there,” Parker said. “You’re always treating me like I know nothing, jumping in to correct me. But then you’re usually right. So I really don’t know anything…”

“You’re right, too, though,” Meagan said. “I’ve always taken the lead. If I’m going to say we need to talk about things first, then we need to talk. Not just me telling you.”

“I’m not actually finished yet.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I’m sorry about the ice cream, too.”

“The what—? Oh. Oh, Parker. That was so not a big deal—”

“But it was, though. I wanted to do something nice for you to cheer you up. So I could have asked. But instead I just went with what I thought would work. So it’s part of the not-talking. And you were right about the money. Again.”

“It wasn’t just the money,” Meagan said with a sigh. “True confessions?”

“Go ahead.”

“You brought out that ice cream and my thought process was literally If I eat that I’ll get fat and then he’ll leave me. That all went through my head in half a second. But I didn’t dare say that. You leaving me was too scary a thought. So instead I yelled at you. Projection.”

“But you’re still right about the money.”

“Money and sex,” Meagan said with another big sigh. “The two things that break up the most relationships.”

“Really?”

“Money is responsible for something like fifty percent of all divorces in this country, yeah.”

“Are they going to break us up?”

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

“Do you want to?”

Meagan spoke slowly, picking her words with great care. “If these problems keep coming up, then I think we should break up. If. They don’t have to. And I hope they don’t.”

Parker thought for a moment. “Speaking as someone who knows he’s got a lot to learn,” he said, with equal care, “I know I’m going to mess up a lot while I’m learning. So can we say that if we try—hold on. Let me put that differently. I know the problems will keep coming up while we learn how to deal with them. So can we say we’ll break up if we don’t get any better at dealing with the problems when they come up? Because they will.” He paused for a second. “Since nothing is ever perfect. Someone I know taught me that.”

“Damn,” Meagan said, with an appreciative lopsided grin, “look at you being so smart. Yes. That’s so much better than what I said.”

“It’s not a competition,” Parker said. “We both brought something to the table and we ended up with something better than before.”

“Which is how relationships are supposed to work,” Meagan said. “Can I kiss you, you smart man, you?”

“Only if I can kiss you back.”

“You may.”

“Let’s do it.”

When the kiss broke, she whispered to him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I really do.”

She scooted over so she could sit next to him, and draped her arm around his shoulders, and cuddled up close to him. “I don’t know when we’ll be able to cuddle like this again,” she said, “what with the weather.”

“We can always come back. Or find other air conditioning.”

“True. Very true. But I still want to make the most of it now.”

 

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That night, after some last-minute cramming, Meagan got ready for bed in the stinking heat of their apartment by taking another quick shower, and then coming into the bedroom dripping wet, as she had so often before on the hot nights—although she usually came in completely naked, without a towel around her waist as she had tonight. She stood in front of the window fan, arms spread, water droplets evaporating off her bare skin. And Parker stepped close behind her, placing his hands gently on her hips and kissing her shoulders. He heard her breathing change, just a little, and she bent her head slightly to bare her neck, so he started kissing that. She arched her back, flexed her fingers, and gave a little sigh. He slid one hand up her side to cup her breast…

And she jerked away from him.

“Sorry,” he whispered. (They were right in front of the window, of course, albeit with the blinds closed.)

“I… I didn’t…” she began, then rallied. “I didn’t know I was gonna react that way. Sorry.”

“I should have asked—”

“No, it should have been okay. You’ve done that hundreds of times, no problem. And I was enjoying the kissing.” She paused. “I think we need to wait on that a bit longer,” she said, in a small voice.

Sleeping in a bed with a partner who was uneasy about being touched was itself uneasy. Meagan’s body went from being a wonderland to a minefield.

But it was a little too hot to cuddle properly, anyway.

 

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“I need a job,” Parker said, two days later.

“You really do, hon.” Meagan was halfway through exams, but with the hardest class out of the way, she was already feeling more relaxed.

“There just aren’t that many jobs out there.”

“That’s true, but it’s not zero. You’re probably going to have to lower your standards, though. Barista. Waiter.”

“I’ve never done anything like that.”

“Well, give it a try. Any income at all will help.”

“I still want to try something with cameras, though.”

“Nothing wrong with trying,” Meagan said.

Parker threw himself into the search, but he quickly realized that so was everyone else. Every job he applied for was now demanding years of experience—if the bosses could only afford one or two employees, then they had to be the best. Parker applied anyway, and got almost zero callbacks.

But then, at the end of August, a small miracle: Photographer seeks assistant for temporary work. Parker applied immediately.

“Sure, son,” said the gruff voice on the other end of the line. “You sound like you know what you’re doing, but bring in your portfolio on Thursday and we can talk.”

“What kind of temporary work are we talking about?” Parker asked quickly.

“I’ve got to photograph every public school student on the west side,” the photographer said, “and I can’t stand little kids. I’ll do all the high schools but I need someone for the elementaries.”

“Portraiture, got it. See you Thursday,” Parker said.

When Meagan got back from her workout, Parker burst out, “I need a portraiture portfolio by Thursday!”

“Huh, I was just gonna say ‘hi,’ but I like this.”

“Sorry. Hi. I love you. Can I take, like, fifty headshots of you? Tonight?”

“Tonight? Does it have to be tonight?”

“I need to develop them tomorrow so I can take them in on Thursday. Unless you’ve got a digital camera hiding somewhere.”

“I’m kind of a mess right now…”

“Actually, that’s even better, because the kids won’t be perfect either.”

“Kids?”

So Parker quickly explained his breakthrough, and Meagan’s eyes lit up. “I get it,” she said. “And Parker, that’s… how many schools?”

When they looked it up, Meagan grinned. “That’s at least seven or eight schools. Probably nine. And then retakes later in the year. That’s at least a week of work, Parker. Not a lot, but something.”

“So I need to show him I can take decent pictures…”

“And so you need a portfolio, and so you need to take pictures of me.”

“You got it.”

“Okay. Sure, I’ll let you glamorize me to advance your career. But I insist on taking a shower first.”

They started simple, taking down a poster to use a bare white wall as background, and bringing in every lamp in the apartment that wasn’t attached, and then draping a white bedsheet over the lamps to diffuse the light, and then having Meagan sit in various poses, and after ten or twelve shots like that, both of them were a little bored and the roll wasn’t done and it was getting to be the “magic hour” outside, so they went out and took more pictures of each other to use up the film, and then they went to bed.

When Meagan came home from campus the next day, Parker met her at the door with his pictures: a dozen headshots of Meagan in different poses, in several sizes.

“Well, lover, I still think I look weird,” she said, flipping through them, “but I know it’s ‘cause it’s a mirror image of me, and I know that ‘cause you told me. And I gotta say everything else looks pretty good.”

“Which ones do you like the best?”

“Can I at least set down my bag first?”

“Here, let’s do the comparisons on the coffee table… I like this one.”

“That’s okay, but I think this one is better.”

“Well, but this angle…”

After they’d settled on eight to be his portfolio, Parker pulled out the other pictures they’d taken.

“Oooooh,” Meagan said, “I love the light in this one…oh, and you got the picture of me in the tree!”

“And I like this one of us.”

“Mmm. Yeah, that one worked. Keep the negatives, I’d like this one of you in wallet size.”

“This one’s my absolute favorite, though,” Parker said, pulling out the one on the bottom of the stack.

“Why?”

“Because of the light on your face, and your smile.”

“What was I even saying?”

“I think you were laughing.”

“What were you saying, then?”

“I can’t remember…”

“Something about ducks?”

“Maybe. Have I ever said anything hilarious about ducks?”

“You’re a capable man, Parker Daniels. I’m sure you’ve said something hilarious about ducks many times.”

After dinner, Meagan went back to the couch for a while as Parker flipped through the internet at the kitchen table. And then Meagan walked past him to their bedroom, and was in there for a little while; and then she came back, and said, “Smile for me, Parker.” And click.  

She had the Polaroid camera.

“Stand up,” she said. “Pose for me.”

“Silly? Sexy?”

“Play it straight,” she said. “Just be handsome for me.”

He leaned against the wall, put his hands in his pockets, and tried to play it cool.

“No, no,” she said, laughing. “Just relax!”

He eased up, but still held a bit of a pose to make sure the shadows worked okay.

Click.

“The light’s not great in here,” Parker pointed out as the picture faded into view. “Over by the window would be better.”

“But I want you to take your shirt off next.”

“I can do that over by the window, too.”

She posed him how she wanted him. He looked at her shot and recomposed it, pointing out a few little ways to use the light better, with and without the shirt. Click. Click.

And then she ran her hand down his bare back and pulled him towards her for a kiss.

Parker’s heart rate soared.

She took him by the hand and led him from the window to the bedroom. Pictures were spread out on the bed: Polaroids from the blackout of the winter before and the photoshoot they’d done back at college and a few occasions in between. A few other favorite pictures of Meagan, or both of them together, were mixed in.

“You make me look beautiful,” Meagan said softly. “And that makes me feel beautiful. Sometimes I forget that.” She kissed him again. “But tonight I remembered. And I want to make you feel beautiful, too.” Another kiss, long and lingering

“I’m okay with this plan.”

“I thought you might be.”

“Do you want to…?”

“Yes. Yes, I want you,” she whispered. “But let me do it my way, please?”

“Gonna make me wait?”

“Not that way. Just—let me steer, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sit on the bed.”

“Let me get the pictures off,” he said.

“You do that,” she said, and took her shirt off.

Pants came next, and his underwear, and she fondled him hard (not difficult to do). She sucked and licked him slowly and carefully while she slipped a hand into her panties and fingered herself. Occasionally she paused her attentions of his erection and kissed his hips or his thighs or his hands. Or she just looked up at him, caressing his skin anywhere convenient with her free hand.

He looked back at her, a mixture of exhilaration and terror swirling through him.

“It’s strange,” he said. “We’ve done this so often. But I’m still so scared.”

“I get it,” she said. “I’m scared too.”

“Do you want to stop…?”

“No. I’m scared but I still really want you right now. Do you want to stop?”

“Not at all.”

She stood up and slid her panties off. She grabbed the lube from the bedside table drawer and knelt astride him, kissing him even as she slathered the lube along the length of his hard-on. His breathing picked up speed quite a bit, and she slowed her strokes, but kept kissing him. Then she said, “Lie back,” and when he obeyed, she lifted herself up and down onto him.

He ran his hands over her slowly thrusting thighs, and up to her hips, and around to her butt—and she froze for a second. She reached back and pulled his hands away. “Not my ass,” she said.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, and resumed her long, lingering thrusts.

Keeping her hands away from her butt, he again caressed her thighs, her hips, her belly, and up to—

This time she almost swatted him away. “Not my breasts, either.”

Fear spiked in him again. “What’s going on, love?”

She’d stopped thrusting, and dropped her eyes. “Just let me do this my way, mmmkay?”

“All right. But can’t I touch you anywhere?”

“My clit’s fine,” she said, slightly impatiently. “Go ahead and touch me there as much as you want.”

He did so. She shivered at the touch of his thumb. Arched her back. Took a couple deep breaths. Leaned back towards him again, and ran her hands over his body, and bent to kiss his face. His hardness was dwindling. He kept circling her clit, not daring to stop.

“That’s just right,” she whispered in his ear. “Just right.”

“Um, I’m not, not quite.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I got you.”

Those words did as much to stiffen him again as the several quick thrusts she made.

She rode him a long time, stopping once or twice to add more lube. He watched her, fascinated, fearful, too anxious to climax. And when her thrusts slowed to a halt and she lay herself down on him, she whispered, “Did you come…? If you did, I missed it.”

“No, but it’s okay. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” she said. “It was still good, though. It felt good to have you in me.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “You had me worried…”

“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t expecting to flip out about being touched like that. Here.” She took his hand in her own and laid it gently on her butt. “There we go. No problem.”

“Because you invited it and controlled it,” he pointed out.

“You gonna join me in the Psych department, hon?”

He shrugged modestly, a difficult feat with his lover lying on him. “I’ve learned a few tricks. Um, do you want to come?”

“I think I’m done tonight,” she said. “I’m gonna go pee.”  

“Okay. But before you go—”

“Hmm?”

“One, thank you. This was good. And two, I love you.”

“I know.” She got up and crossed the kitchen to the bathroom.

And she closed the door.

 

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The next day, he’d gone to the photographer, who took a look at the Meagan-portrait portfolio and chuckled. “Well, you can certainly make her look good,” the man said, “but with a girl like that, it’s not hard.”

“I know, I’m pretty lucky,” Parker replied, knowing it was true and hoping it would stay that way.

“Still, you clearly know your light and your angles. If you can manage working with screaming kids, you’ll do.”

“Sure,” Parker said, hoping that was true, too.

It turned out that he could handle elementary schoolkids well enough—one at a time, if he applied enough pure silliness—and he slogged his way through nine campuses in two weeks’ time, one a day. Then he did a week of retakes. And at the end of it, the photographer said, “Nice work. You get to do all the family portraits with kids from now on.”

This turned out to be much harder work, since it often involved babies. And babies took an entirely different level of silliness, which required more of an effort and often didn’t work even then. And any customers waiting in line for their portraits could be a little exasperated by baby delays, and took their frustrations out on him. The first time some customers left because he was taking too long was devastating. Especially since he wasn’t getting paid by the hour, but on commission.

But he was getting paid. Two Fridays later he brought home his first check stub, proud despite its size, and began to work out how it needed to be spent. Rent took the lion’s share, of course, but he also took the shopping list and bought some groceries, and also set aside as much as he dared and put it in his savings account—the first time in months that account had gotten bigger. When Meagan came home, and saw the rent check written out for the landlady, groceries in the fridge, and the budget he’d worked out on paper, she grinned and kissed him.

“We should celebrate,” she said. “Go out for a drink or something.”

“I don’t want to blow my first paycheck!” he said.

“We should have a little fun, lover,” she said. “I’ll split a bottle with you or something.” So off they went to the store again, brought home a bottle of passable rum, and watched Pirates of the Caribbean for the third time while sipping a Dark n’ Stormy apiece. By the time the credits rolled, they were both a little tipsy. Meagan scooped up Parker’s pay stub and waved it about. “Aztec gold!” she giggled.

“ ‘You’re sure you’re not a pirate? You’re completely obsessed with treasure,’ ” he said.

“ ‘Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate,’ ” she shot back, looking him in the eye.

“Is that so?”

“It is indeed,” she purred, and kissed him. He kissed back. Before long she was straddling him to make out, and he could feel her breathing picking up speed. And not long after that, she pulled off her shirt and put his hand on her breast.

He sobered instantly. Well, not entirely. But he knew he had to say something. “Hey, love, we’re both a little drunk. Are you sure…?”

“I’m not drunk,” she said. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m not gonna regret this in the morning; been meaning to do it for days. It’s time I got over this. Past time.” She hesitated for a second. “But you’re gonna come in me, not on me.”

“I am totally fine with this.”

She rode him again, both of them laughing and relaxed, and when he ran his hands up to cup her bare breasts she just closed her eyes in pleasure at the caress. He came quickly and enormously in her—too quickly, really. He apologized, but she just said, “It’s fine. I want my vibe, anyway.” But when she got up to get it, she realized how much of his cum was dribbling down her legs. “Wow,” she said.

“It’s been a while,” he pointed out.

“Is that your first time since…?”

He nodded.

“Wow,” she said again, shaking her head. “No wonder. Your balls were full, boy. Well, let me wash up, and then I can come for the first time since… in a while.”

It was a good thing she’d wanted the vibrator, he reflected as she arched against the couch cushions, panting and moaning. The vibe wasn’t about to get soft from over-thinking, but he would have. All through getting her off, he kept thinking about how she’d gone to the bathroom to clean herself up, and closed the door behind her.

Am I ever going to see her pee again?

You don’t deserve to, he told himself firmly. Count yourself incredibly lucky that you get to make love to her again. That’ll have to be enough for you.

Edited September 27 by Weasel (see edit history)

[Weasel 1,095]

And here's where the new content begins. WARNING: it is both long and heavy. Intense relationship stuff. Trigger warning for discussions of lack of consent. Also if you're allergic to backstory, you'd better skip this one -- but for the rest of you, keep reading for a bit of Meagan's pre-college history.

--------------------------------------------

With the new job, September was exhausting, and still just as hot. Meagan was working, too—TA’ing for her professors and doing a little tutoring on the side, and once they made it to the end of the month, money was less tight. They were still down to pennies after food and rent and utilities and savings, but they were surviving. Neither one of them had a lot of time to spare.

October started warm, too, but the nights were cooling off, and when they had any extra energy they took walks in the evening. The cooler weather meant more cuddling, too, but they were usually both too tired for much else. They’d made love once since his first payday.

With tutoring on top of school, Meagan was definitely the more tired and busy of the two. There were several nights when Parker had come home hours and hours before she had. He cooked most every meal, which helped, and did a fair chunk of the cleaning, too, but there were nights when he sat in the apartment, alone and weary and wishing for Meagan’s touch.

And then there were a couple nights when he sat alone and horny and wishing for Meagan’s holding.

She’s never gonna hold for you again. You might be able to work up to peeing in the shower together or something. But she’ll never hold it for you. And you shouldn’t ask her to. Not after what you did.

He had plenty of memories, though, and the Polaroids. He dug them out. A moment later he unzipped his pants.

And a few moments later he zipped up again. I can’t. I just can’t.

---------------------------------------------

“So what do you want for your birthday, love?”

It was the Sunday before the birthday in question, and they’d slept in. Sunday was their lazy day, since Parker had to work Saturdays. But today they had nothing scheduled. Parker was lying propped up on his elbow, watching Meagan finish waking up. She stretched her arms lazily over her head before answering.

“An extra three hours of sleep and then breakfast in bed,” she replied.

“Sounds like maybe we do that next Sunday, huh?”

“Mmmhmm. I’ve got a paper due on my birthday itself…”

“Pancakes as usual? Or something special?”

“Yes please. But make them blueberry if you can. Oh, and one other thing.”

“Hmm?”

She rolled closer to him, threw an arm around his waist, kissed him. “You.”

In the warmth of the bed, the blankets, and her embrace, he shivered a little. “You’re sure?”

She kissed him again, and pressed herself to him. “Pretty sure.” She lay back again; the blankets fell back short of her breasts. “I don’t want a repeat of my birthday senior year where I straight up forgot to get laid. Or when I was just too busy to fuck that spring and we nearly broke up.” She traced his cheekbone, then his collar bone, then down his sternum. “Sex is pretty crucial to us, I think. It’s not everything, or we’d be totally screwed…”

“Nice one.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why are my best puns always the ones I didn’t actually intend…? Anyway. It’s not everything. We’re so good together in other ways, too. But sex isn’t optional for this relationship, now is it?”

“Really not,” he said, and kissed her. And kept kissing her. And then, when they came up for air, he said, “As a matter of fact, how about right now?”

She stretched again, eyes half-lidded, grinning. “I’m too tired—or too lazy—to really fuck. But maybe…”

“But you’d like me to go down on you?”

She shook her head. “Not without me washing up first. And I don’t want to get out of bed yet. But thanks for offering. The vibrator, on the other hand, happens to be within arm’s reach.”

“Completely by fortunate chance,” he murmured as he reached across her to fetch it.

“Completely.”

He didn’t tease her, as he sometimes did, by slowing down when she asked for more; instead he stuck to exactly what she asked. She came more quietly than she sometimes did, and wasn’t panting for breath at the end, but he could feel her pulse racing. And she lay back on the pillow with her eyes mostly closed, smiling a still-sleepy smile.

“Good?” he asked.

“Mmmmmmm. Yup.” She brushed his chest with the back of her hand, apparently too glowy to lift her other arm to reach him. “Your turn?”

“If you want.”

“Of course! If you want anything more than a hand job you’ll have to do all the moving, but you could come in me. I’m still wet enough.”

“Well, I just was wondering,” he said, tracing one of her areolae, “if you wanted to do something special for your birthday. Keep me waiting, I mean. Because maybe you’d want me to start waiting now.”

She gave him a quick, nervous glance, then dropped her eyes, then said, “That, uh, raises some issues.”

He lay back and looked at the ceiling. “Oof. Sorry.”

She rolled over to put her head on his chest, and kissed it quickly first. “I love you, Parker. And I love having sex with you. And not just because you give me lovely orgasms like the one just now. I love it because of the connection it’s built between us.”

“There’s an unspoken ‘but’ there,” he said.

“…Yeah.”

“Don’t care,” he said. “If you want to keep me waiting, I’m fine with that. It’s your day.”

“But I couldn’t,” she said. “That would be so unfair to you.”

“It’s not about tit-for-tat.”

“No. But it is about giving, and balance. And I can’t take that, not unless I can give back. And I’m—I’m not ready for that yet.”

He sighed.

“Not ready yet,” she reemphasized. “I want to… do it your way again. I really do. It’s just gonna take some time and some processing. I mean, I’m in school so I can do therapy on other people, lover—I should be able to get there.”

“You shouldn’t have to ‘get there’,” he said softly. “Because you used to be there. You were there before we’d even seen each other naked. But I hurt you so much that you aren’t there any more. You were so good to me for so long. You made me feel clean. You made me whole, and I abused that. I don’t know if I deserve it any more.”

He felt a sudden dampness on his chest. “Meagan—are you crying?”

“No,” she said, unconvincingly. “It’s just all these onions we’ve been chopping in here.”

He kissed the top of her head.

She swallowed. “Sorry. The onions and the emotional whiplash. My own fuckin’ fault, I went deep real quick.” She shifted position to look up at him. “Speaking of going deep… wanna forget we had this conversation and just fuck? I can get on top after all.”

He sighed.

“I would love to have you in me,” she said. “I truly would.”

“Thank you,” he said. “And I’d like that too. But I’d rather we kept talking. I think we’ve been avoiding some issues.”

“Yeah, we have. When we talked at the museum, it felt so good to talk it out and apologize,” she said, “but we didn’t actually do much about the problems.”

“Hey, I got a job.”

“True. Money was a big, big problem. And actually it’ll stay a problem for a bit, but now that you’re working we’re going to be okay—as long as nothing bad happens—and I’m gonna be honest: the fact that you’re holding down a genuine job makes me so proud of you, and it also makes me feel a lot better about this relationship’s future.” She sighed again. “And I just now realized why, as I say that out loud. It’s because of my dad. When you weren’t working, you started reminding me of my dad. Shit, I hate daddy issues! They’re so… typical.”

Parker wrapped her into a hug. “You’re not typical,” he said into her shoulder. “And what we’ve got isn’t typical either.”

“I hope not,” she replied. “Typical relationships don’t last. And to keep ours going we need to work a few things out, mmkkay?”

“Yeah.”

“But I need to pee and eat first, in that order.”

They reconvened in the kitchen. She’d put on sweatpants and one of his hoodies, with no bra, and her breasts were, as usual, making fascinating patterns as they shifted underneath her clothes. Her hair, a little longer of late and falling just short of her shoulders, added a brilliant counterpoint. When not flipping pancakes, Parker just drank in the portrait her body painted.

When they’d eaten Meagan went off to brush her teeth, then came back and said, “So I think we shouldn’t have this conversation in bed. But the table looks a little… formal. Couch?”

“It’s cold out there, let’s stay in here. Besides, I want to look at you.”

“Standing up?”

He sat down on the floor. She grinned briefly and joined him, cross-legged. She extended her open hands to him, and he took them.

“So who goes first?” he said softly.

“Can we talk first about what happened in August?”

“I pushed you too far.”

She shook her head. “I want you to really spell it out plainly, and with no judgment. What you think happened, and how you felt. I won’t interrupt. And then when you’re done, I want to say what I think happened, and how I felt.”

He thought back. “Uh. It’s been a couple months.”

“Try.”

He did. “You called me… you called me sick.”

She winced and nodded.

“You teased me a lot, which is fine. But it felt… I felt… like you were… acting better than me. Smarter than me. Because of the money stuff. Because you’re older and know more. You never apologized for looking down on me, just for being mean about it. And it felt like you were taking out your anger on me, calling me sicko like that. So I took it out on you.”

He shuddered a bit. “You’re always… it feels… Sorry. I feel like you’re always in charge. And so I… controlled you instead. Pushed you out of control. I don’t know why I spanked you, it just popped into my head then. Maybe I… maybe I felt like you were treating me like a child, so I treated you the same?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I felt angry at you. So I kept pushing. To see how far I could push you out of control. I’m so sorry.”

She squeezed his hands. “No judgments,” she whispered. “Not yet, anyway. Is there more?”

He shook his head again.

“I remember feeling like you were being mean,” she began. “You’ve never been mean, not in sex, not ever. And you weren’t saying what you wanted, just what you didn’t want, and you kept contradicting yourself. Like you were trying to make it impossible for me. And you didn’t wait to let me make you come!—Sorry. I wanted to make you come, even then. I was confused and scared and frustrated but I kept thinking, He’s so turned on, it’s worth it, I can push through this. And then you jacked off onto me like… I mean, it felt like you used me like a piece of tissue.”

He dropped his head.

“And I felt like I was back in high school.”

He glanced up again, baffled.

“I haven’t told you a lot about high school, have I?”

He shook his head.

“I’ve always held off because it does involve me talking about past sex partners. But I want to explain a little today. Is that okay?”

“I’ve never minded you having past partners,” he said. “I figured that’s just how you got so good in bed.”

“Yeah, but that was college sex partners, not high school. In high school there was… there was a whole lot of crappy sex. But let me start from the beginning. I was a good little Christian girl in junior high. Going to Camp Graham and all. But sophomore year in high school I had a boyfriend, my first real boyfriend other than holding hands. First kiss and all. Turns out he had real issues with the word ‘no’, at least when it came to me.”

“Can I interrupt now? I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Meagan… did he rape you?”

She sighed. “No—and yeah, kind of. It’s not that he pinned me down and forced me. But I told him no over and over again, and eventually… eventually I stopped stopping him.”

Parker shuddered. “Permission to judge him?”

“Granted. But don’t get too comfortable, because what I did later… well, I’m getting ahead of myself. First there was the pregnancy scare, and then there was the slut-shaming. I never let him see me naked again, but apparently you can’t un-fuck someone. And he went off and found someone else to screw behind my back, since I wasn’t letting him screw me, but apparently I was the slutty one. Um, Parker, love?”

“Mmm?”

“Can you stop squeezing my hands that tight?”

“Sorry! Sorry. Didn’t even realize.”

She smiled sadly. “A little angry?”

“Furious.”

“It’s all long gone, sweetie. No point in getting pi—furious now. But thank you. I wish I’d had a defender like you that year. Instead all the girls turned on me. Cold shoulder at best. So I started hanging out with guys, and they all gave me lots of attention, but only one kind. And I thought I was already ruined since I wasn’t a virgin any more—that’s the kind of sex ed we were getting, you understand—so why not have more sex to keep getting that attention? Thank god for Tabby. She rescued me a couple different ways.”

“Is she the friend we visited in Chicago?”

“No, that was Celia. Celia understood, but she was at Camp Graham, so I only saw her in the summer. Tabby was at my school. She was a doctor’s daughter, so she was rich, or at least a lot more rich than the rest of us, and that meant no one was really close to her but no one wanted to make her mad, either. Senior year she protected me, swatting down rumors whenever she heard them. And with a real friend, I stopped sleeping around for the attention. Although she was my source for condoms.”

“Your high school sounds horrible, lover. But now I’m grateful to Tabby, too.”

“Well, hold on, because she had a vicious streak, too. She directed it at the girls who were spreading rumors and the guys who’d cheated on me, but it was there. And she got me into revenge.”

She took a deep breath. “I started spreading rumors myself, about my first boyfriend—rumors that he was gay. He fit the stereotype just enough. I think he was actually bisexual, because he did have that three-year-old calendar of shirtless firefighters, but he also started drooling the second he got me to take my shirt off. But it didn’t matter. The rumor took, and suddenly he was dropped like a hot rock by everyone, too. Small religious town, y’know?”

“Serves him right.”

“Not really,” Meagan said sharply. “First off, being gay’s nothing to be ashamed of, as you and I both know, so I was an asshole for using that against him. And second, after all his friends abandoned him he started drinking more, his grades dropped… and one night he drove straight into a tree. He died at the scene.”

“Oh, shit—wait. Oh, shit. Meagan, no, you didn’t kill him…”

“No, but for a while I thought I had. And I certainly didn’t help. So I do blame myself for the setup, if not for him dying.”

“You and everyone who thought being gay was a problem,” Parker pointed out. “Small religious town.”

“Yeah, I was losing my religion fast. Being blamed for ‘tempting’ a guy when he was the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer? Makes you think.”

“Between that and your uncle…”

“You know what? I asked Uncle Frank if girls who got pushed into having sex went to hell. Basically described what had happened to me, only didn’t say it had happened to me. And he said, ‘There’s always a chance for sin to be forgiven, Meg, no matter what’s been done. And once forgiven, they are saved if they sin no more.’ I was already five boys deep in my sleeping-around phase, so I made sure he never heard about that, but I’ve never forgotten what he said, either. It was a lot more merciful than what half the girls in town were saying about me.

“Anyway, I’m not gonna tell you every fuckin’ thing I did in those years. People treated me pretty shitty, but I treated them pretty shitty right back. Found out their secrets and used it against them. Cheated on the cheaters and then rubbed it in their faces.”

She drew a long breath. “So yeah. When you jacked off on me, it felt like… like the boys who used me in high school all over again. And when I realized I’d been using your kink against you, calling you sick and evil, it felt like I was starting to take revenge again.”

“I was using you and taking revenge. I really did that to you.” He shook his head, violently. “Why are you still with me?”

“Because you know what you did was wrong,” Meagan replied instantly. “You knew what you’d done almost as soon as you’d done it. And you want to fix it.”

“I guess we’re in the judgement phase now?”

“Well—yeah. But I don’t want this to turn into a mistake-measuring contest, mmkay? ‘I messed up worse than you did’ or ‘You hurt me more than I hurt you’ just ain’t useful. We both hurt each other that day.”

“Yeah. And what matters is fixing it.”

“That and making sure it doesn’t happen again. So my next question is, what would make this right? You can go first again.”

“What would make it right? Me never asking you to hold it again.”

Meagan’s eyes got wide. “Parker, I just want to be sure—do you mean you never ask again but I can offer, or do you mean we never ever do it again? ‘Cause those are different.”

He blinked. “I… I didn’t you’d ever offer again. So I meant we never ever do it.”

Meagan shook her head. “Oh, lover, no. I can’t agree to that at all. That would mean you’d be trying to cut out a huge part of your life. A huge part of our lives. I mean, the very first time we met—! And besides, it wouldn’t work; you’d be sneaking off to the internet behind my back. You want it too much. And you’d be keeping me from having fun, too.” She grinned at his reaction. “Yeah, I definitely didn’t have fun last time. But it’s not like I’ve been putting up with it for all these years. You know I have fun! I love being able to turn you on. Like I’ve got a switch I can flip whenever—” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh. Oh, fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think.”

“Yeah,” Parker said. “We need to talk about the control issues, too. We’re not…” He hesitated. “When we started out, you knew more about everything. Sex. Consent. Relationships. Emotions. Money. Life. And you really taught me about sex—incredibly well, by the way. And consent, too. We’ve both had to learn the relationships part together. We’re learning right now. But for other stuff, like money and jobs? You didn’t teach me, you just got mad at me for not knowing. I mean, where would we be if you’d gotten mad at me for not knowing about sex?”

“Not here together years later, that’s for sure,” Meagan said. “Really good point, love. I’ll do better at teaching instead of scolding.”

“Or let me learn on my own.”

“Good point. Agreed.

“And the control?”

“Yeah. We need to get better at that, too.” Her eyes lit up. “But we already know how to do that, don’t we? It’s consent again. When we’re fuckin’, I let you control me sometimes, and you let me control you sometimes. So if I’m gonna be all bossy about money and life and shit, I need to ask first.”

He grinned. “That works for me.” Then the grin faded. “But we did agree about controlling each other that day. And we really fuc—we really messed it up.”

She nodded. “I’ve been doing a little reading about kinks. I think we’re not planning things out well enough. It’s like… it’s like we just hand over the car keys to each other, with no idea where we’re going. I think we need to map it out first. Both for sex and for the rest of life, I guess.”

“Make a plan and stick to it?”

“Make a plan and adjust as we need to.”

“Right. Since life is what happens when you’re making other plans… So when you’re gonna hold it for me, we work out in advance what I’m gonna have you do—and when we’re doing money stuff, we work out in advance what you’re gonna have me do.”

“Heh. ’Kay! I like that. Let’s do it. Especially since that’s a lot of what I needed to make things right about the sex. And if you’re ready and willing to learn—which I know you are—then we can work out the money side, too—and now we’re both a bit less stressed about school and jobs and money, we desperately need to bring back Date Night as part of those plans… and speaking of desperate, our kinks should be a part of Date Night. At least sometimes.”

“Sold.”

“There’s one more piece, though.”

“Something you need from me?”

“Something we need from me,” she replied. “Remember what Doctor Vince told me? That there’s what you need, what I need, and what the relationship needs?”

“I think I forgot about that.”

“I did too—and that’s a lot of our problem. I think there’s something the relationship needs.” She took a deep breath. “Hear me out on this?”

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t want to marry you, Parker. Marriage still feels like a trap, and ‘Till death do us part’ is the kind of forever talk we’re not doing any more. But what I said on Dacy’s wedding night about leaving the minute it’s not good any more? That’s not enough, either. Because you honestly thought we were going to break up because of one time the sex got bad.”

“Well, not just the bad sex. That and the money and the control issues and the ice cream.”

“That fuckin’ ice cream. I seriously got mad about ice cream.”

“I think you got mad about other things. The ice cream was just… a convenient target.”

“True. True. But my larger point stands. That bag you packed me, that note you wrote me? You thought I was about to leave you forever—without even saying goodbye! And why? Because we’d agreed to do that. And now I feel kinda dumb for ever saying it.”

“It felt nice at the time.”

“Yeah, nice and dramatic and oh-so-mature and a little bit of we-know-better-than-everyone-else. But you know what? A little more commitment than that would have spared you that night. If you’d know I would come back…”

“If I’d known you’d come back, I might not have written that note. I think I still would have done most of the other things.”

“Probably. But you shouldn’t have to worry I’d be gone in a heartbeat like that.” She sighed. “But I can’t marry you. I wish there were something in between.”

They sat in silence for a while. Then Meagan said, “True confessions?”

“Go ahead.”

“My butt’s hurting from sitting on the floor.”

“I’m honored you trusted me with that deep dark secret.”

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to join me on the bed.”

“I’m honored by that, too. Anything in particular you had in mind?”

“Well, I was hoping to make out with you for a while. After that—play it by ear?”

“Meagan McAllister, it would be a privilege.”

 

-----------------------------------------

 

I hope you enjoyed this omo.org post with zero pee content and a lot of heavy emotions

 

Edited September 27 by Weasel
Added trigger warning (see edit history)

[warham1995 820]

congrats on finishing this story, how have you been doing lately?

[Weasel 1,095]

Oh, we ain't done! I just now realize that this would have been a good ending, but that wasn't my intention at all. Give me a day or three, though.

And I'm doing better, thanks. Life has gone from weird to packed, and is going to stay that way for a while, but I feel okay about it. So far, at least!

[warham1995 820]

that's good

[Weasel 1,095]

Here's a little more for y'all. Contains sex and nudity (but then, don't most of mine do?) (Other than that last one, that is...)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The next week, Parker slipped out of bed and made pancakes as promised, and let Meagan sleep. When he heard her stirring, he lay down on the bed beside her, over the covers, and watched her until she woke up. She smiled sleepily, yawned, stretched, and brought her arms down around him and pulled him close for a kiss.

“What time is it?” she asked, when the kiss broke.

“Nearly nine,” he said. “Not quite an extra three hours.”

She shrugged. “I’ll still take it. And I smell pancakes.”

“You smell correctly. Blueberry, as requested.”

She kissed him again, a lot longer this time. “You beautiful man,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“Do you want them now?”

“Mm. Are they gonna burn? Or get cold?”

“I’ve got them in the oven keeping warm.”

“Then can I get the rest of my present now, please?”

“You’re barely awake.”

“I’m awake enough to fuck.”

“I’d rather make love.”

“Oh, well, in that case yes, I have to be awake at least three hours,” she said sarcastically. She tugged on his shirt. “Too much cloth between us,” she said.

He stripped naked and slipped under the covers with her.

“Better,” she said, and then they made out for a long time. Their hands weren’t idle, but they were in no hurry, either. His hard-on was tucked up against her thigh quite pleasantly, and when he slipped a finger between her legs he found she was pretty wet, but they kept kissing and fondling without rushing the moment.

But finally Meagan said, “Hey lover. You wanna be in me?”

“If you want me there. And if you’re ready.”

She grinned. “Well, I’m really enjoying this, actually, and I’d be in no hurry to stop. But I also gotta pee. So…”

“You could go to the bathroom. I promise I’d still be here when you get back.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. I’m not ready to really do it your way yet. But if you fuck me right now, I’d technically be holding it.”

“That’s a very tempting offer,” he said. “Are you sure?”

“I wanna give you something for my birthday, too. And I’m okay with this.”

“I want you to be more than ‘okay’. I want you to want it.”

She kissed him long and hard. “I love you so much,” she said. “And I do want you. In me. Right now. While I’m holding. Not even close to desperate, I admit. But still.”

“Then as you wish, birthday gir—sorry. Birthday lady.”

“Keep talking, lover,” she said. “But start riding me, too.”

With him lubed up and with her legs spread, he slid into her, carefully keeping his weight on his arms, thrusting slowly and gently but deeply. She half-closed her eyes in appreciation. “That feel good?” he asked.

She nodded. “I forgot,” she said. “Needing to go a little does make this feel nicer.”

“Really nice?”

“Mmmhmm.” She looked up at him, smiling. “I don’t think it’s gonna get me off. But that’s okay. It still feels real good.”

He paused. “Do you wanna switch positions?”

“Maybe later. Right now, though?” She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him. “I said I wanted you to ride me and I meant it. You can go a little harder.”

“I might come…”

“Please. I want you to,” she said. “Come in me deep. Fill me to the top.”

“It’s just—”

She pulled him down to kiss him, and when she released him, she was laughing. “Stop thinking, lover!”

“It’s your birthday.”

“And I want this,” she said. “It’s not about coming. It’s about joining.”

“Mmm,” he said. “I get it now.” He started thrusting a little harder, as she requested. He kept his strokes well-paced, though, so they could lock eyes as well.

“That’s it. That’s just it. Just what I want, Parker. Just right. We’re together. We are. And I love it.” She was almost chanting, as she used to do. “I love feeling you in me. Joining me. Joining us.”

“I’m gonna try and make it last,” he said, a little short on breath.

“Thank you,” she said. “Come whenever you want. But thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

“You feel good,” he whispered. “You feel so good.”

“You do, too.”

“Need any more lube?”

“I think I’m making extra,” she replied.

“That’s so fucking hot to hear,” he gasped. Their eyes were still locked.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you,” she said. Not actually a question.

“Uh-huh…”

“Come on in. Come on in me. Just come on. I want you so much. I want you right where you are. Come in me, come in me, come—ahh. There it is.”

He had to break the gaze at last as his eyes squeezed shut involuntarily.

“I felt that,” she said. “You had a lot for me today.” She giggled. “And you always, always, try to keep your weight on your arms, whenever we’re in this position!” She pulled him down with her arms and legs both.

“Just seems the gentlemanly thing to do,” he muttered into her shoulder.

“But I want your weight on me,” she whispered in his ear. “Just like I wanted you to fill me up—and you did. Rest on me and in me.”

“Cleanup?”

“Your cum washes off,” she replied. “I’ll shower later. And we can do laundry if we need to wash the sheets. Just be here with me.”

He turned his head to kiss her. They made out, still joined, until his shrinkage pulled him out of her, and then they made out even longer, and she kept her arms and legs around him every moment of it.

But finally she said, “Okay, now I really do need to pee, you’re kinda resting on my bladder—Wow. I felt that!”

“Hmm?”

“Your cock twitched. That would be world-record recovery time for you.” She kissed him. “Soon. Soon I’ll hold it for you again, for real.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said. “But for right now…”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

She nuzzled him. “Just say it.”

“Can I watch you pee?”

She hesitated.

“I want to watch your face when you let it out,” he said.

She grinned. “Is that all? Well, I’m barely desperate, it’s not gonna be that big of an endorphin rush. But sure, we can do that. And actually—wanna shower with me? Been a while since we did that, too.”

“Absolutely.”

She let him go at last and sat up. “Wow,” she said again, inspecting herself. “That’s a lot of cum. We’re definitely washing these sheets.” She wadded up the topsheet, got to her knees, and held the cloth to her vulva, trying to absorb the drips. She reached over and cupped his balls. “I think we need to get you off more than once every few weeks, or it’s gonna be a cum-flood in bed every time.”

“Date Night. Starting Tuesday,” he said.

“Absolutely. And now, peeing and shower, in that order—no, wait. I’ll pee in the shower. That way you can hold me while I let it out. That’ll show you more than just watching.”

She shifted a bit from foot to foot as they stood in the cold of the bathroom waiting for the shower to heat up. “I’m gonna pee as soon as we get in there,” she said. “The cold is making it worse, and I gotta clean the pipes.”

“I’ll pee too,” he said.

“Together? Or do you want to wait a few seconds and let me aim?”

“Let’s do it together,” he said. “In fact… hugging each other?”

She raised her eyebrows a bit. “That’s new. But sure, we can do that. And right now, I think…”

They stepped into the shower one after the other, and positioned themselves under the warm water, and wrapped their arms around one another. Parker pulled back just slightly—still close enough to feel Meagan’s breasts against his chest, but far enough back to be able to watch her face. “Ready?” he asked.

“I’m already going,” she said.

He let go as well.

“Felt that, too,” she said, wrinkling her nose a bit. “Riiight on my leg. You’re gonna have to clean that up, Mr. Firehose.”

A few moments later he did exactly that, washing her legs and her feet, and then after rinsing, back up to between her legs. Once he’d finished washing, he couldn’t resist a quick stroke of her clit.

“’Kay, you can keep doing that…”

He got up off his knees and found the spot again.

“Yeah,” she said, “you can keep right on doin’ that.”

He leaned against the shower wall and let her lean against him, fingers darting in and out, slipping into her vulva to fetch some of her natural lube, back out to her clit…

“I love you so much,” he said in her ear, and kissed her neck. “You are so beautiful, and so sexy, and I’m so lucky to be with you.”

“We’re both lucky,” she said. He could feel her pulse quickening as he nuzzled her neck again.

He switched hands, brought the first one up to caress the underside of her breasts. “You feel so incredible,” he said.

“What you’re doin’ is pretty cool itself,” she replied, starting to breathe heavily. “But you’re slipping off a little… can you go down on me?”

“Absolutely,” he said. They switched positions and he knelt at the bottom of the tub. His knees were gonna be screaming at him soon, but it was worth it. His tongue found her clit.

“Yes. Yes, that’s it,” she whispered. “Yes. Oh, yes… yes… thank you… yes…”

After a few minutes, however, he couldn’t take the pressure any more. “Sorry, love,” he said. “I can’t keep kneeling.”

She nodded understanding. “Lie down in the tub,” she gasped. “I’ll sit on your face.”

He quickly obeyed, and a moment later he was treated to the sight of her breasts bouncing as she panted, or rising as she arched her back—and beyond that, a face of exquisite agony and bliss at once. The warm water of the shower was splattering off her back and onto his chest. Her hair started bouncing with her breasts, and then, as it dampened and darkened, instead clung to the skin of her shoulders in delightful ways.

“Yes, yes, yes. Oh my god, Paker… Oh, Parker, thank you… oh god… yes, and yes, and yes, and yeaahhhhhsss…”

Her breasts bounced one last time in her orgasm-spasm, her legs shuddered around him and clenched his head, and then she had to catch herself against the shower wall, two-handed, breathing heavily. She opened her eyes, and their gazes met.

She reached down and traced his jawline with a tender finger. “Thank you,” she said. “So much.”

“Happy birthday,” he said.

“You know what, though?” she said, water still bouncing off her back.

“Hmm?”

“I think I gotta take a shower.”

 

[david_578 15]

Looking forward to seeing what the rest of this "season" (finale?) is going to be like.  Absolutely no hurry.  But just wanting to make sure you know your story is still appreciated. 🙂

[Weasel 1,095]

I was stalling because I hadn't actually finished writing. But as of this morning, it's done. Here is part of it:

 

---------------------------------------

 

A Sunday in early November. Blue skies peeping between clouds. A few autumn leaves still glorious on the trees; many more crunching underfoot. After a thumping football win the night before, and the celebrations that followed, the University of Michigan campus was quiet that day; a few students passing here and there, at least a few of them doing Walks of Hopefully-Not-Shame in party clothes they’d clearly slept in, or at least slept near.

In contrast Meagan wore her battered old jacket over a sweatshirt stolen from Parker, and Parker wore his winter coat for the first time that year. But if the sun stayed out, he’d probably need to unzip. Fall was slipping into winter, but it hadn’t gone yet.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Parker asked.

“Hmm?”

“Thanksgiving Break that one time.”

“Oh my god,” Meagan said. “Best Thanksgiving ever. Ridiculous fun.”

“Yeah. I wish you got a full week off here at Michigan, too.”

“A five-day weekend is still pretty nice. Gives us time to get down to your parents’ and back.”

“But it’s not a full week of… um, special sex.”

“We weren’t fuckin’ every day that week.”

“No, but it was a lot.”

“Roommates gone, college kids in love…” Meagan said.

“Still in love, I hope.”

She turned and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “Yup.”

“Good.”

“But funny how having a little more privacy keeps leading to a little less sex. We had our own room in Franklin, but we didn’t have as much sex… now we don’t even have housemates and we’ve had even less…”

“It’ll pick up now that we’re doing Date Night again,” Parker said.

“Yeah, but hear me out: should we get another roommate? Just so when they leave, we appreciate the privacy more and do lots of fuckin’?”

“How can I phrase this…? I admire your outside-the-box thinking and your creativity in your dedication to our relationship,” he said. “But please god no.”

She laughed aloud, flinging back her head. He brushed the hair out of her eyes, and those eyes sparkled.

“Well, if you’re not tired of ridiculous ideas, I have another one,” she said, much more softly.

“Oh?”

“Have you ever heard of handfasting?”

“Mayyybe? But even if I have, I haven’t heard enough to know anything about it.”

“So I’ve been doing some research,” she said. “I thought I remembered something… and it turns out that I might have been right, depending on who you ask. Anyway: handfasting. Old Celtic tradition. Literally tying two hands together to show the bond between two people. It’s apparently where the phrase ‘tie the knot’ comes from. Sometimes it’s a betrothal—what we would call an engagement. Sometimes it’s a wedding. And sometimes it’s a temporary marriage.”

“I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Well, all marriages are temporary. But we don’t usually think of them that way, do we? But when it wasn’t a marriage itself, handfasting had a time limit. Usually a year and a day. And at the end of the year—and the day—if the couple wasn’t happy, they’d break up. No hard feelings, clean break, done.”

“Huh.”

“So I can’t marry you, Parker. Blame my parents if you want, but marriage is just not me. And I look lousy in white.” She drew a deep breath. “But I would totally handfast with you. And if we’re still good after that year, we could do it again. And again.”

“Stringing middles together for a long, long, time,” Parker murmured.

“Hmm?”

“What we said the day you graduated.”

“Oh, right! I remember. With the thunderstorm?”

“Also the running through the house naked. And the bathtub.”

“Heh. Yeah. That was a good day.”

“And not an ending, as it turned out,” Parker said. “Though it was definitely happy.”

“Yup. So, whaddya say, lover? A year and a day?”

“Starting now?”

“Well, I thought maybe over Thanksgiving…”

“Meagan,” Parker said, fiercely, “I would start this second if you had any string.”

“Generally people use ribbons these days—wait, do you mean that? This second?”

Parker took her hand in his, holding it up between them, twining his fingers through hers. “Tie it,” he whispered.

“My god,” Meagan answered, just as quietly. “I thought you’d need to think about it more.”

“Been thinking about marrying you for a while. If handfasting is how we do it: tie the knot.”

With her free hand she cupped his cheek. “You’re sure.”

“It’s not like I’ve been putting up with you all these years. Tie it.”

She kissed him, long and slow and sweet. “For a year and a day,” she warned.

“For six months and six hours. For seven years and a week. For three months and three minutes. For any length of time we choose. And a year and a day sounds beautiful to me.”

“I think we should wait,” she said.

“That’s fine. How long?”

“Dunno. How long is it gonna take us to find a ribbon?”

He grinned. “The bookstore has an art supply section.”

The bookstore, however, was closed on Sundays. Meagan sighed. “Do we have anything back at the apartment…?”

Parker looked at her, taking in her pondering expression, the way her eternal sweatshirt and jeans only mostly hid her delicious curves, her hair falling around her hood…

“Got it,” he said, and tugged on the drawstring of her hoodie. Well, his hoodie. Originally, at least.

“Genius,” she said to him, tenderly, and managed to unthread the cord without strangling herself. “Ready?”

“Hold up, hold up.”

“You wanted to do it this second.”

“Still do. But maybe not in front of a closed bookstore. And maybe we should think of some nice words to say, huh?”

“Good point.” She looked around, and then took him by the hand and pulled him over to a spreading tree that still had many of its lovely orange leaves on it. Standing in the rest of the leaves (on the ground) she said, “How about this?”

“Fantastic. And what to say?”

“Something about in the eyes of all the gods and men…”

“Neither gods nor men in sight at the moment.”

“Well, the God of Hedgehogs, surely.”

“Of course.” Parker held up his hand.

Meagan matched it and pressed her palm against his, then intertwined their fingers as he had done not long before. He could feel her hand trembling.

“Before the eyes of the God of All the Hedgehogs, I, Meagan McAllister, take you, Parker, to have and to hold for a year and a day, in sickness and health and in love and in rage and in everything in between.” Her voice shook, but only a little.

“And I, Paker Daniels,” he said, heart suddenly hammering, “before the eyes of the God of Hedgehogs, take you, Meagan, to have and to hold for a year and a day, in, uh… no matter what.”

She grinned, and then took the sweatshirt drawstring and held one end in place with her thumb; he folded his thumb over to double down on the security. Then she began cris-crossing the string around their hands and in between their fingers. He suggested a few loops and tucks. And then the knot was tied and they stood there beneath the spreading tree and kissed, and the whole world vanished for a while.

“Wow,” Parker said at last.

“We did it,” Meagan said. “Next time we could have maybe a little more, though. Some pictures, say. Your family.”

“Already planning for next year, huh? What if we decide we’re no longer happy with each other?”

“Then we’ll have a breakup party instead,” Meagan said. “And we’ll fuck one last time and kiss each other goodbye and go our separate ways.”

“That sounds incredibly civilized.”

“Beats a note on a backpack by the door.”

“That it does.” He pointed to their bound hands. “How long are we supposed to keep this tied?”

“These days people mostly try to slip it off without untying anything before the reception,” Meagan said. “But apparently in the original tradition, the couple had to stay tied together until midnight. One thing I heard said that if they managed to dodge all the obstacles of the day, that meant they’d do okay at surviving all the hardships of the year ahead.”

“That actually makes sense,” Parker said. “Because going through a day tied together like that would take some real cleverness and a lot of good humor. Which would be a great clue to the health of the relationship.”

“Hah, true!”

“In that case, by all means let us observe the tradition,” he intoned.

“What, keep it on all day?”

“Sure!”

“We’d have to get untied sometime,” Meagan said.

“When?”

Her eyes lit up. “Well. I was thinkin’ bathroom breaks. But maybe not, huh? Maybe… maybe we just help each other out with that.”

His heart started thumping again. “You mean it?”

“Seems like a good way to bring your way back in, doesn’t it?” Meagan said. “And frankly, somehow I can’t see us celebrating without your way…”

“How about your way?”

She smiled. “If I get to decide when you come, that’s enough for me.”

“Okay,” he said. “Well, let’s talk it out, like we said we would.”

“Good catch. I think we should go out for a cup of something hot to celebrate. And splurge a little and eat out? Or maybe takeout. You shouldn’t have to cook today. Unless it’s your secret family recipe cookies.”

“Oooh. We should make those when we go home for Thanksgiving. But we were talking about planning.”

“What I meant was, we might not be going home for a while. So not a lot with the teasing and delaying. For when we’re out and around, we’ll have to find bathrooms we can both go into, for starters.”

“I think that could take long enough for my purposes all by itself.”

“’Kay! And when we get home?”

“Well, I think we’ll be helping each other eat and drink too, yes?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“So maybe we can’t turn down what the other offers for food and drink. And we have to agree on when to piss—and on how.”

“For both of us?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“That’s fine. And after we’ve done that for a while, when it’s time to get to the fuckin’ again, I’ve got an idea about how and where I want you to come. Not sure about when, we’ll have to play that by ear.”

“Can I know how?”

“You won’t say no, let’s say that.”

“Still, just for practice, I should know…”

She hesitated. “Okay, I see why people might resist planning things out. It cuts down on pleasant surprises. Can I just offer you a choice in the moment? Nothing we haven’t done before.”

“Compromise: tell me one of the ways, and you can keep the other options a secret”

“Oh, all right. Coming in me.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s definitely not surprising.”

“’Kay! I think we got it. And now—celebratory hot beverages? I’m thinking celebratory latte. Or chai.”

“I might go for celebratory hot chocolate.”

“Excellent choice.”

“Should we try to match caffeine levels? If you had celebratory black tea, it would affect how much you needed the bathroom…”

“Nah, I don’t think it’ll matter that much.”

Ann Arbor was a college town. There was no shortage of coffee shops. They picked a non-Starbucks shop and headed for it. And immediately paused.

“Okay, if we loosen that a bit, and retie it, I think we’ll be able to shift our grip.”

“But it’s mostly our thumbs that need to rotate…”

After a bit of readjustment that kept them tied together but allowed some flexibility, they continued.

“Hmmm,” Meagan said. “How are we gonna explain the handfasting?”

“At the coffee shop?”

“Oh, that too. I meant to our friends and families…”

Parker thought for a moment. “Well, at the coffee shop, I think most people won’t be looking at us all that closely. And if we pull our sleeves down a bit, it’s not that noticeable. I think if we don’t show it off, people might not even notice. And there have got to be clingy couples holding hands all the time.”

“We’re not clingy,” Meagan said indignantly. “…Are we?”

“Well, we will be today!”

She chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“For everyone else…” He paused, pondering. “I think what we say is gonna depend on how much you’re willing to talk about your parents and your reluctance to get married.”

“Got a point there, love,” she said. “I’ll need to think about that a bit.”

“But if it’s really closest friends and family—they already know about your parents. My folks in particular, but also anyone who was in on the arrangement for Franklin…”

“Also a good point. So should I just bite the bullet and tell them everything?”

“Well, not everything…”

They arrived at the coffee shop and waited in line. “Just thought of something,” Meagan whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Hmm?”

“Paying. I can’t get to my wallet.”

“Then I guess this one’s on me!” he replied, reaching for his and thumbing his bank card out of it.

“You’re sure?”

“Two cups of hot celebratory something isn’t gonna break my bank account. Twenty might…”

“Nuts, there goes my plan to drink a dozen black teas just for you.”

That entrancing image made Parker stumble over his order, but they managed to make it through ordering (one cup of hot chocolate, one cup of, yes, chai spiced black tea) and paying without drawing any attention to themselves.

“Ordinarily I’d send you to go get a table while I waited for the drinks,” Parker whispered. “And then I’d come back up for both of them so you didn’t have to get up.”

“Let’s just wait here at the counter,” Meagan said, standing quite close to him. And then kissed him quickly on the cheek.

“You’ve never been one for a ton of PDA,” he whispered.

“If I can’t kiss you in public today,” she asked, “when can I? Besides,” she added in equally low tones, “good camouflage. The clingier we are overall, the less people will notice our hands.”

Having collected their drinks, one-handed, they found a table in a back corner. It was away from the window, unfortunately, but it was also away from most everyone else.

“So I’ve got a question,” Parker said. “We’re both instinctively trying to hide this.”

“Just to avoid awkward explanations,” Meagan said.

“Yeah, any explanation that has to begin with ‘So, in ancient Celtic culture…’ could be a bit much for each stop we make today.”

“I was thinking of having to explain why we did this so impulsively. Why we didn’t do this as a real ceremony, with everyone else around.”

“If you want,” Parker said, “we still could, at Thanksgiving. At least with my parents, and maybe Dacy and Mitchell and anyone else who can make it.”

“But we already did it!” Meagan said. “And a year and a day makes sense, but who’s gonna understand—” she did some quick mental math “—three hundred and forty-eight days?”

“Well, if you don’t think we should…”

“I just don’t want to double up.”

“It’s not like we’ve got a limited number of times we can tie our hands together,” Parker pointed out.

“I guess…”

“Anyway, the easy way around it is to just call it an engagement. You said it could be an engagement thing, right?”

“Yeah… but I don’t want to be lying to all our friends and your parents. Because if it’s an engagement, then that implies a wedding.”

“But people would understand if we got engaged on our own, without everyone there. So if we say it can be an engagement thing, or a trial marriage period, or an actual wedding ceremony, then we can say we’re keeping our options open.” He squeezed her hand. “Which we are, aren’t we? That’s the whole point.”

“You’re a smart man,” she replied. “Okay. Talk about handfasting in all its different forms. And then people will interpret it as they need to.”

“The other thing,” Parker said, “is we didn’t really do this all that impulsively, did we?”

“We didn’t? Because I remember you saying yes to the handfast two minutes after hearing about it for the first time ever.”

“I almost asked you to marry me the night of Dacy’s wedding,” he said.

“Is that why you got all weird and intense for a bit?”

“Yeah.”

“Hah, I was right. Score one for Proto-Therapist Girl.”

“You guessed?”

She sobered. “Parker, I’ve been thinking about marrying you since New Year’s. And wrestling with myself about it. It’s why I had us do what we did on New Year’s Eve—trying to substitute other kinds of connection. But that wasn’t close to enough. And then when I saw you were about to say something the night of Dacy’s wedding, I stopped you. Because I didn’t want to break your heart by saying no.” She ran her free hand over her head. “Good thing you didn’t propose after the bouquet toss, or it would have been awkward.”

“I never would. I knew that bouquet was trouble as soon as you caught it.”

She flashed a grin. “Smart man.”

“So you see what I mean? We didn’t do this impulsively. We’ve been thinking about tying the knot for nearly a year. And you know what they say, don’t make major life decisions until they look wise in every season.”

“They say, huh? I’ve never heard that before.”

“Something my dad told me.”

“Also a smart man. Runs in the family, I guess… wait, did it look wise in summer?”

“Not that one night. But after you came home, at the art museum? Absolutely.”

“Before that, even, for me. The note on the backpack.” She squeezed his tied hand in hers. “I was so scared in that moment, because I loved you so much and I was so afraid we were losing each other. I already didn’t want to let go, and then that note just destroyed me. The note, and you remembering tampons.”

“But no socks.”

“Heh, right. Well, no perfect moments.” She looked into his eyes for a long time, then leaned forward for a kiss. He met her in the middle.

They sipped their drinks, they swapped their drinks for tastes, they talked about Thanksgiving and school, they agreed to not talk about money that day, they just sat in silence for a while. Then Meagan said, “Hey, just for your benefit: I gotta go.”

“Already?”

“Black tea plus not having been since we left the apartment. So how do we want to do this? Head home?”

“I think this place has just one bathroom,” Parker said. “We could just slip in real quick.”

“It’ll look a little strange…”

“I bet almost no one will notice. And if we’re quick, they won’t even think anything of it.”

“Okay. But let’s wait a bit longer.”

“You’re sure?”

“Not forever, but I can definitely hold it a lot longer. How about you, do you need to?”

“Not yet.”

“How about we wait until you do, and then both go?”

“And if that takes a long time?”

She shrugged. “I’m Meagan the Mighty.” Then she grinned. “I felt that shiver.”

As it happened, the hot chocolate went through him quickly, too, and twenty minutes later he said, “Time to go.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah, but also I’m getting a little restless.”

They slipped into the single restroom, and were confronted by a sink that was fairly far from the toilet. “Nuts,” Parker said, “I was planning on using the sink while you used the toilet.”

“You want to do it simultaneous? ‘Cause I thought we would just swap off.”

“Simultaneous would be more thematic.”

“Heh. Okay, let’s see. If I’m on the toilet and spread my legs, it should work. But you’ll have to aim, darn it.”

“What’s wrong with me aiming?”

“I wanted to aim. But not when I’m in the line of fire!”

“Good point. Help me with my fly?”

“If you’ll help me with my belt…”

With only one pair of free hands between them, getting clothes adjusted took a lot longer than usual, especially as Meagan had to get hers down to her ankles for safety’s sake. But finally she was sitting on the toilet—not even locked down yet; she clearly didn’t have to got that bad—and he was standing in front of her, and she said, “On three?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“One, two, pee.”

He let fly, taking great care to keep his stream between her legs. She didn’t have that problem, of course.

As they washed their hands, Meagan said, “So we were gonna be in and out real quick, right?”

“Yeah, this took a little longer than I thought…”

“Let’s get out of here. But I’ve got one stop to make.”

 

-------------------------------------------

 

So how about that, folks? Let's give these kids some applause!

A few quick notes on handfasting: (1) It's quite real, both nowadays and historically; (2) There are different ideas about how it worked historically, with debate over whether it was a "trial marriage" or just an engagement before marriage; and (3) so far as I know, no one has ever used it the way Meagan wants to use it.

And a quick note about what's to come: there's more to come before we wrap. Stay tuned!

[Flush 253]

I’m glad that the bathroom did have a sink that was too far away from the toilet… although the scene itself not really sexual, the image that I have of Parker aiming between her legs kinda is 🙂 Overall a very cute chapter of our favorite lovebirds… There’s a lot relationship talk and talk about the future in this chapter, and since the beginning of the story I imagined that it could end in marriage, but now I guess not… (yet?). Not that marriage should be the end goal or anything, it’s just that Meagan and Parker are together for so long (I think it’s sitcom logic convincing me that it a series goes a long way, marriage always gets involved). Off course this story isn’t a sitcom… interested to hear how this will develop further.

Thanks for continuing this story Weasel.

[Weasel 1,095]

Yeah, Meagan's not the marrying type because of her family background. This compromise is as close as she can get.

Here's a bit more!

-----------------------------------------

Someone was waiting for the bathroom as they left, and blinked as they walked past, but nobody said anything. Parker was still eager to get out as quick as he could, but Meagan knew where she was going. As with many coffeeshops, there was a water jug for refilling bottles, and also a few cups stacked next to it. She filled one, knocked it back, filled it again, knocked that back too, then set the glass aside on the busing station and led the way out of the shop.

“Where to next?” Parker said. “I don’t think I want to go home just yet.”

“Definitely not,” Meagan said. “Can we do things my way for a bit?”

“In public?”

“Semi-public,” she replied. “Getting more potentially public as the day goes on, though…”

Parker hesitated, then said, “You really want to, don’t you.”

“Mmmmhmmmm.”

“Then I trust you.”

“’Kay!” she said with glee. “Next stop, the library!”

“Where now?”

“Library basement.”

“But isn’t that the other way?”

“We’re taking the long way around.” She squeezed his hand. “Gotta let that extra water work through me, huh?”

“I thought we were doing your way.”

“We are. But I want to give you something to think about. Annnnd I felt that shiver too!”

“Downside to this handfasting thing,” Parker muttered. “No secrets.”

“You’ve got no secrets from me anyway,” she said.

“I suppose that’s true.”

Still no one noticed, or commented, as they walked hand-in-bound-hand through the campus. At one point Meagan dragged him into a brief run over to stomp on some crunchy-looking leaves. At a couple points Parker stopped her to look at a particularly photogenic tree in the late-autumn sunlight. But eventually they circled around to the science library, and pushed their way in, and went down into the basement.

“So I actually do need to do a little homework down here,” Meagan admitted quietly. “But since I can’t write as long as we’re—” and here she just squeezed his hand “—then you’re gonna have to take a few notes for me, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Not a lot,” she said. “I just need to double-check some journal citations. But it does mean I’ll need to do some reading. Want to find a photography magazine or something?”

“I’ll just watch you,” Parker said—and then, “Heh. That shivering thing goes both ways, huh?”

It was compact shelving down here in the basement, with the shelves squeezed close together on tracks, so Parker got to help by spinning the controls and moving the shelving far enough apart to slip in and look for the right psychology journals.

“Isn’t this all online now?” Parker asked. Quietly, of course—this was a library.

“A lot of it is, but not all of it,” she replied, equally quietly. And then, more quietly still, she added, “But in the online journals, I couldn’t do this.” And she pulled him towards her and unzipped his fly.

“Umm…”

“My way, remember?” she whispered. “It’s not just about making you wait,” and here she slid her finger into the fly of his boxers, “it’s about control.”

“Are you sure about this?” Parker asked, hardening rapidly.

“Not a lot of traffic down here. Not as much staff on Sundays, either. And definitely not the first time the library’s been used like this. Are you okay with this?”

“I don’t want to come on the books.”

“I can swallow. Just say the word. But I want to hear you say it. Are you okay?”

“I think I am…”

She stroked him a little faster. “I gotta pee again already, but I can handle that much more liquid.”

His hard-on got so stiff so quick it didn’t have room to get out through his fly in time, and he groaned with the sudden awkward pressure. She quickly maneuvered him loose.

“Anyone could walk by…”

“That’s the idea. So stay facing me.”

“You’re really, really sure?” he whispered. “Because… I kinda wanted to come in you tonight.”

“I think you can probably come twice today,” she breathed.

“I just don’t want sex later to be disappointing for you.”

She kissed him, still stroking. “If you give me this memory, it really won’t be.” Then she added, “Someone’s coming. No, don’t put it away! Very unlikely they’re looking for this aisle.” She stood even closer to him, taking his free hand in hers and holding all their hands down at their sides, and then kissed him again. “There. They moved on.”

“But they’re still down here.”

“Mmhmm. You’ll have to come quietly.”

“If I can,” he whispered. He was already starting to wilt.

She immediately started stroking again, quickly. “So you know I gotta pee,” she breathed into his ear. “I promise you, right now, I won’t pee a bit until we’ve made love in our bed tonight.”

“Tonight? Really?”

She rolled her eyes. “Wellllll… later today. But I will hold it for you. I’m gonna be absolutely bursting by the time we get to that. So much pressure. I’m gonna be squirming and dancing around. I’m already getting excited thinking about it.”

“Excited…?”

“Lover, I’m already wet for you. If I could drop my pants right now, we wouldn’t need lube. Some of that’s from this right now. Some of that is from imagining what we’ll do. I’m gonna have to go so, so bad… but I committed, didn’t I?”

“I’m gonna…”

“Whoops, so you are,” she said, dropping to her knees.

When he finished, she wiped her chin, then stood up and zipped him up. “Thank you for that, lover,” she whispered in his ear.

“It seems like you did something for me… but I get it. I did do something for you, didn’t I? That feeling of power.”

“Mmmmhmmmmmm.”

“But now we actually have to do your homework. Unless that was just an excuse to get me down here.”

“Well… kind of, yeah. A lot of these hard copies have been scanned and uploaded to JSTOR, so I could look at them from home if I need to.”

“For shame, luring me down here under false pretenses! C’mon, show me which ones you need and we’ll do your homework now.”

It was not the most efficient note-taking session ever, as Meagan couldn’t write, and had to teach Parker her note-taking system so it would match her other research, and point out which quotes she wanted him to copy down, and so on—and all the while doing it quietly, since it was a library.

“We could do this a lot better at home,” Meagan murmured.

“We’re doing okay.”

“But there’s something else we could do at home, too. Or at least something else I could do.”

“Hmmm?”

“Squirm.”

He grinned and shook his head. “No. No way. You’re Meagan the Mighty, you can hold it without squirming. We are gonna finish this research if it takes all afternoon, and you’re not gonna distract your scribe with any squirming. Or talking about squirming, either.”

They got through the particular journal article she wanted, and then got up and returned it to the expandable shelving, and then Meagan said, “Okay, we can go home now.”

“Are you done? Completely done?”

“Most everything else I can get online.”

“‘Most’?”

“Okay, okay, there’s one more…”

They returned to their study table and she again began pouring over the text. A few moments later she closed it up. “There’s nothing I need in this one,” she said.

He tsked and shook his head.

“No, I’m serious! I thought this article would have something I needed, but it didn’t. Research goes like that sometimes. I’m not just trying to get home faster.”

“All right,” he relented.

“And to prove I’m not just trying to hurry home, let’s swing by the store. There’s something I want for dinner tonight. Well, for after dinner.”

They walked along at a leisurely pace, arms swinging between them.

“How you doin’, love?” he asked. “Or, should I ask—how ya doin’, partner?”

She shivered.

“It’s like that, huh?” he said, grinning.

“That was from what you said,” she told him firmly. “I gotta go, but I can wait a lot longer. Which is good, because I’m gonna have to, aren’t I? Get to the store… get dinner… eat dinner… sex… then peeing. Probably not for a couple more hours.”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he said. “And I’m so grateful that we’re doing this again.”

She shrugged. “It feels natural, for us. I mean, the first time I ever made you come, it was from peeing in that trash can.”

“Yeah, that was amazing.”

“It’s still one of my life goals to make you come over my shoulder again,” she said. “I was pretty proud of that. And now that I’m holding it again, and seeing how much it’s turning you on—well, it’s like riding a bicycle. I remember how to do it, and I remember why I’d want to.”

“I just thought—I thought you’d never hold it for me again.”

“The only way that’ll ever happen,” she said firmly, “is if we break up. It’s never been the holding part, Parker. Since we’re doing old memories, remember just before that first sex, when I told you to take the towel off me?”

“Indeed I do.”

“I wanted to prove to you that the holding pee thing really, really wasn’t a problem. And it still wasn’t, these last few months. What you did to me wasn’t about the holding, it was about crossing boundaries and breaking trust.”

“I know. But associating holding with boundary-crossing—that and the fact I didn’t deserve any rewards after what I did…”

“Deserve’s got nothing to do with it,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I wasn’t punishing you, lover. Partner. The associating, though—yeah. But if I can’t get myself over that, I’m not much good as a future therapist, now am I?”

“I guess not.”

“Change of subject,” she said. “What are we getting for takeout?”

“I had an idea about that.”

“And are you gonna tell me?”

“Just waiting for the appropriately dramatic moment.”

“Oh, I see. Drumroll…”

“Thai.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Amazing. Of course. Let’s do it.”

 

---------------------------------

 

Stay tuned for more!

[Weasel 1,095]

And here's the more that you stayed tuned for.

 

-----------------------------------------

 

“I wish I could remember the Thai place’s number, though. And their menu. That way we could call now and pick it up on our way home.”

“They’re just down the street, we can go back out for it later.”

“But you might find that a bit difficult, later. If you’re still holding.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“I suppose it is.”

“Right, then. We’ll stop by the store, get what we need there, head back to the apartment, call, go pick it up, eat, fuck, and then pee.”

“You are so insanely hot just for saying that.”

“I know.”

The trip to the store was uneventful, except for the part where she insisted on paying since he’d done the coffee, and that meant finding a quiet aisle and having him reach into her back pocket with his free hand to get her wallet out. He only copped the briefest feel of her butt as he did so.

As they arrived home, Parker said, “Wait. I feel like I oughta carry you across the threshhold.”

She laughed. “Or I should carry you. Besides, you already did that, remember? At Dacy’s wedding.”

“I guess I did.”

“And I don’t know how well you’d manage with only one hand.”

“Good point.”

“But it is special, isn’t it?” she said, as he managed the lock and they stepped inside. She quickly kissed him. “Love you,” she whispered.

“I know.”

They put the groceries away, figuring out as they went that they could reach across the entire kitchen between the two of them.

“Not having my dominant hand free is kind of a pain in the ass.”

“It’s probably good for you.”

“We should just swap off. Retie the knot and have you using your left hand.”

“If we start untying and retying for convenience, that kinda defeats the message, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, all right. But next year, we’re tying your left hand.”

Groceries stowed—it only took about half again as long as it should have if they’d had both their hands free—Parker drew Meagan close and asked, “How’re you doing now?”

“I,” she replied, “am ecstatically in love with you. That’s how I’m doing.”

“I meant—”

“I know exactly what you meant,” she said, and kissed him. “You want to call the restaurant?”

“Not until I get a status check.”

“I,” she repeated her dramatic slight pause, “need to pee. But I won’t go yet. I promised.”

“How bad?”

“Pfft. This is nothing.”

“Then I’ll call the restaurant in a while.”

“Let’s at least check out the menu, then.”

“You’re just hoping I get hungry looking at it.”

“I’m not hoping, I know you’ll get hungry. I’m already hungry, is all.”

“Oh, in that case…!”

As they looked at the menu on Parker’s laptop, Meagan said, “Oh, and I’m gonna go up an extra star on the spiciness today.”

“You sure? You generally top out at two.”

“Mmmhmm. But that means I’ll have to drink extra water, now won’t it?”

“You are amazing. But let’s just get one thing with three stars, okay? I want you to be able to actually enjoy your dinner.”

“You’re amazing, thinking of me like that.”

“Always.”

“Always have so far, anyway. But I like the trend.”

It was Parker’s turn to pay, but Meagan made the call. “Twenty minutes until pickup,” she said. “Wanna do anything until then?”

“Well, we could make out, or we could waste time on the internet.”

“Let’s make out. Might not want to as much after we’ve had all the spicy food.”

(It should be noted in passing here that both Meagan and Parker were from the US Midwest and had no idea how mild their “spicy” food would be by global standards. But the important thing was that it would indeed make Meagan drink more water.)

They didn’t make it the full twenty minutes. After ten or so the kissing trailed off a bit, but only because they started talking. Meagan, resting her head on Parker’s chest and tracing his cheekbones with her left fingers, murmurred, “You know another good thing about this? If we’d done a normal wedding, we’d never have time for this much making out and cuddling on the big day. I mean, Dacy and Clark barely saw each other until the ceremony… and they were so busy during the ceremony and the reception they barely had time for each other. I’d even be willing to bet that they didn’t have sex that night.”

“I’d bet they did,” Parker said, “what with Clark taking her top off in the hot tub and all.”

“Yeah, but everyone was exhausted.”

“We managed.”

“We weren’t on stage the whole day.”

“And we weren’t on stage today, either,” Parker said. “I see your point. I do think we’re missing one possibility, though.”

Mmm?”

“You holding it in a wedding dress. That would be hot.”

She chuckled. “Reminds me of Dacy getting desperate…”

“How did you manage that for her?”

“Not my story to tell. But it involved a lot of helping hands. You know, I could put my bridesmaid dress on, if that would be nice.”

“Probably a little cold for November. Besides, I really like you in jeans and a sweatshirt. My sweatshirt, to be specific.”

“But that dress pressed on my bladder so much.”

“That was nice—but today, I don’t necessarily want to hurry this,” Parker pointed out. “I like the buildup.”

“Mmmm. You really, really do. So watch me closely when we go to the restaurant, ‘kay? I think you’ll like what you see.”

They went down the block, still hand in hand of course. Their food was ready, but to pay they had to wait in line.

Parker did as he’d been told, and watched while they waited. A few moment of this, and he bent close to Meagan’s ear and whispered, “So you’re gonna have to tell me when to pay, when to leave, stuff like that. ‘Cause right now I can’t see anything but you.”

She whispered back, “And do you like what you see?”

“So much.”

She grinned, and pulled him forward to the counter.

Outside, bag of food in hand, walking home, she said under the cover of the traffic noise, “So, getting hard?”

“A little.”

“Excellent.”

“That was so subtle in there. But since I knew what to look for…”

“Exactly.”

The day was disappearing, and autumn evening coming on. The slight warmth of the November sun had disappeared, and they shivered. “Does it smell like snow?” Parker asked.

She took a sniff. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Wishful thinking, then.”

“We won’t always get snowbound, love.”

“Yes, but it’s so excellent when we do.”

Inside, they faced a problem.

“I don’t know how to get this hoodie off without untying,” Meagan said.

“You can take your bra off under your shirt but you can’t do this?”

“For that I have both hands free.”

“Should we just leave the hoodies on, then?”

She shook her head violently. “I want you naked tonight. And I’m willing to bet you want me naked, too.”

“Good call. Hmmmm.”

“I think we have to get untied, just for a bit,” she said, “and then re-tie after.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Parker said. “I’m beginning to think this ‘stay-handfasted all day’ tradition predates the invention of the sweatshirt. So, here’s the compromise: we have to stay holding hands. But we’ll switch hands.”

“Oooh, do I get to be right-handed again?”

“I was looking forward to feeding you. Like at that one Thanksgiving.”

“You know, it’s kinda hilarious that that’s the only Thanksgiving we ever remember.”

“I remember the Thanksgiving at Franklin, too. It just wasn’t near as much fun.”

“True. Okay, here’s my compromise. We switch hands, so I can have my right hand free again. We’ll feed each other—that only seems right. But I see what you mean, and I’ll raise you a different kind of help: you can help me hold.”

Parker’s heart began to thump. “How do you mean?”

“When I need to hold myself—and note I said when, not if—you’ll do it for me.”

“That’s exactly what I thought you meant.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

“Wasn’t asking. I can tell from your pulse.”

“All right, let’s do it.”

The next few minutes were a hilarious scramble of arms and hands and sleeves, and they were both laughing uncontrollably by the time they had the hoodies off, and Meagan gasped through her giggles, “Hey lover? Help already?”

“What?”

“Help me hold! Now!”

He quickly slid his hand—the only one he had free—between her legs and pressed.

“Lower and harder,” she said.

“That’s what she said,” he commented, and that set her off laughing again, and she crossed her legs right over his hand, and between howls she scolded him, “Don’t… you dare… do that… again!”     

Finally the laughter subsided.

“Can I take my hand away now?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you, lover. I just about pissed myself,” Meagan said. “Me! I nearly pissed my pants! In fact…” She thrust her free hand down her pants and sighed with relief. “Nope. Still dry.”

“If you wet yourself laughing, I think you could be forgiven. A little giddiness is expected on a day like today, yeah?”

“But Parker, I’ve got a reputation! Admittedly you’re the only one who knows it…”

“What, none of your friends ever figured out you’re so good at holding it?”

“It’s never come up.”

“No road trips where you had to stop for them?”

“Probably? But I don’t remember. You gotta understand, I started paying a lot more attention to this particular bodily function once I started dating you. In the ‘Before Parker’ era, it was just something you had to deal with. I wasn’t exactly collecting stats. Can we eat now?”

“I’m not super-hungry…”

“But the food will get cold if we don’t eat now, and I promised you I’d hold it right through dinner and through our fucking afterward, and so I’d like to get started, please.”

He kissed her, and let his hand slip between her legs again. “We could just go straight to the fucking now. And microwaves exist.”

She grinned. “They do. But I still wanna do it this way. Keep both of us waiting just a little bit longer.”

“You’re gonna get me hard first, though, aren’t you.”

“You know me so well. It’s like we’re partners.”

“We are, aren’t we?”

She started by taking off his shirt, and then letting him return the favor. When they were both naked from the waist up and re-tied, she grabbed his free hand with hers and held it to her breast, then dropped her own hand to feel him up. When he was, in fact, quite hard, she smiled and said, “’Kay, let’s eat!”

They had to figure out the geometry of their new handfasted configuration. It posed some challenges.

“I kinda envisioned you on my lap for the eating part,” Parker said.

“I envisioned you on mine. But I don’t see it working.”

“Maybe it’s better this way. Our handfasting begins on an equal footing!”

They ended up sitting next to each other on the couch. They took turns feeding each other, dropping only a little of the food here and there (“Imagine the mess if we’d tried chopsticks.” “We’d have to put down a tarp.”) and reveling in the togetherness. Meagan, Parker noted with great interest, was in her locked-down stage.

“I love you so much,” he said. “What you do to turn me on.”

“It’s a little tricky, since we haven’t done this for a while—but it’s also like riding a bicycle. I don’t think I’m gonna set any records today, love, but I’ll last as long as we need me to.”

“I love that ‘we’, too.”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? By the way, if you’re not hard right now we should work on that.”

“I feel you should decide when and how to pee.”

“You sure? Because I already picked the time, and I already made you come whether you liked it or not.”

“I’m sure.”

“There aren’t a lot of things we haven’t done.”

“Pick an old favorite, then.”

“Mmmm. I want… I want you to help me, somehow. Help me hold more, and then help me pee…”

“Remember the peanut butter jar?”

“Perfect. Do we still have that?”

“I think that particular jar didn’t survive the move, but I think that random old water bottle you used during the blackout is around here somewhere.”

Having finished eating, Meagan snuggled up to him. “I’m cold,” she said.

“I can tell,” he said, caressing her hard nipples.

“And I gotta pee.”

“Well, we gotta wash up first, don’t we?”

“Of course we do.”

It was always warmer in the kitchen, at least, but now Meagan had to contend with running water as they washed their plates and forks—because of course they had to work together, him holding a plate while she scrubbed. Before long she had to cross her legs. They didn’t bother with drying. As Meagan put the last plate in the drying rack, Parker ran his hand down her neck, across her breast, and stopped over her bladder.

“If you press on me right there, this evening’s gonna get a lot shorter,” Meagan warned.

“Just checking.”

“Use your words.”

“How are you?”

“Lover, I gotta go real bad. Running water wasn’t easy.”

“Time to go to bed?”

She kissed him and drew him into the bedroom.

His pants and boxers came off, and she spent a little time appreciating what she found underneath them. But then he reached to unzip her jeans, and she grabbed his wrist. “We’re gonna need to do that carefully, ’kay?”

“How carefully?”

She crossed her legs again, then loosened the knot that tied their hands together so they could move a bit more freely. Then with her free hand she unzipped, slowly. And finally she drew their tied-together hands to her crotch, slipping their ten fingers under the waistband of her panties. “Help me hold, lover,” she whispered in his ear. “And turn me on. Oh, and help me with my clothes?”

“You’ll need to uncross…”

“I know. That’s why I want your help.” She carefully brought her legs apart.

It did take both hands—her free one and his free one—to get her jeans and panties off.

“Mmmmmm,” she said. “That makes it so much harder. Press down, lover, or I’m gonna leak all over your hand.”

“And hearing that makes me so much harder…”

“Lemme see—yup, that’s a nice hard one.” She gave it a quick appreciative stroke. “I love, love, love how hard I can make you.”

“And how much you can push my buttons,” he said. He kissed her neck, twice. “Like, say, in a library.”

She flushed, shivered appreciatively, and stretched a bit. “That was so excellent,” she said. “Come to bed and tell me more.”

“Do we want a towel?”

She hesitated. “I kinda want it to be a challenge for me to not let one drop out…”

“I guess there would be time to wash the sheets after if we had to.”

“Yeah, let’s get a towel.” She kissed him. “I don’t wanna let you out of bed the rest of tonight. At least not to do laundry.”

They grabbed a towel from the cold bathroom, then hurried back to the somewhat-warmer bedroom and spread the towel out. Meagan lay down on it, spread her legs, and brought their joined hands back to her crotch. This time Parker’s hand was underneath hers. He did press down hard with the heel of his hand, but he also crooked a finger back to find her clit. She arched her back as he did.

“The thing about the library?” Parker said. “I was just so shocked. The only time you’ve ever done anything like that was in my parents’ yard—and then it was nighttime. And we had fences around us. Or you got me off out in the woods, when we were out in the open but alone. But just right there in the library stacks?”

Her eyes half-closed in pleasure, from his touch or his words he didn’t know. But her ear-to-ear grin, he guessed, was from what he was saying. He kept going.

“I didn’t really have a choice, though, did I? Because you just kept pushing right on my kink. Just would not take softening for an answer. ‘I’m gonna be so desperate,’ you said.”

“Mmmmmmhmmmmm.” She was beginning to writhe under his fingers and his words and the pressure in her bladder. “And as a matter of fact, I am…”

“But the other thing that made me hard was hearing how turned on you were. Telling me how wet you were. And telling me how wet you’d be tonight. What really made me come was hearing that. Well, that and what you were doing with your hand.”

“And my lips. Don’t forget that. Mmmmmmmm. Move your finger slightly to the left and tell me again, Parker-partner…”

“I didn’t have a choice,” he repeated. “I was so nervous that someone would see us, and a little embarrassed, and terrified of how we’d have to explain. But what you were saying and doing was just too much. The fact that you were already holding for me, and promised to keep right on doing it until—well, right now, really—and then telling me how hot it made you… I could feel it coming. I couldn’t hold—heh. I couldn’t hold my own cum.”

Meagan made a noise he’s almost never heard from her, a kind of gasp, almost a sob, and bucked. Bucked against their joined hands, squeezing his between hers and her body beneath as she arched up off the towel. She turned her head blindly and wildly, thumping against his own in the process, hunting for his mouth to kiss. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and kissed him desperately, hungrily. Then she tore her lips away but kept her forehead pressed against his, and gasped, “Again!”

“You made me so hard, with your words,” he said. “Telling me how wet you were. How much you wished you could just take me right then and there. We wouldn’t need lube, you said. That was what did it, really. You made me come in the library stacks, like it or not, talking about how turned on you were…”

She cried out again and her climax hit her like an earthquake. Shudder after shudder went through her. He felt it in her frantic breath against his neck, in her racing pulse, in the vise-grip of their tied-together hands, in the way she ground the nub of her clitoris against his fingers.

Then the waves ebbed—not gone, but subsiding. Her arching slackened. Her pulse was still racing, though, and he experimentally touched her clit again.

She spasmed again, but she gasped, “Stop, stop, stop.”

“I bet I could make you come again.”

“I’d lose all the pee,” she said.

“How’d you hold it?”

“I have no idea. But lover—partner—I’m so desperate after that, but I wanna keep my promise and have you come in me before I go.”

“Well, we know you’ll be wet enough.”

“I can’t do it that way, I’d wet the bed on your first thrust,” she said. “But it’s better this way. I wanted to do it this way anyway. I want you to come on my boobs.”

“You’re sure.”

“Fuckin’ right I’m sure.”

“So we’ll need lube after all!”

She grinned. “And Parker?”

“Yeah?”

“I am absolutely bursting. But take your time.”

It was not the easiest position they’d ever fucked in. Meagan squeezed her boobs together with her arms, but of course her right hand was still tied to Parker’s left. And her left hand had to be buried between her double-crossed legs. But Parker wasn’t worried. Buried in her warm flesh, slick with lube, he’d be able to come most any day. And considering the wriggling she was doing—considering what she was saying…

“Oh fuck, Parker, I am so desperate,” she whispered. “I haven’t had to pee like this since… I don’t know, maybe my graduation. Come for me, lover, come right on me, because I gotta go!”

Between her breasts, her beautiful breasts, and with total permission, and with her words ringing in his ears, he almost came on the third thrust. He managed to hold back, and made it through the fifth slow slide in before she noticed.

“You holdin’ back on me?” she asked, grinning.

“You said… I could take… my time.”

“I did, but lover?”

“Hmm?”

“I have to pee so bad.”

And again, just like in the library, he didn’t really have a choice.

“There you go,” she said with a grin. “And now, I hate to interrupt the afterglow, but can I please please please pee now?”

“In a second,” he said, still panting.

“Parker, I just leaked.”

He rolled off of her, dribbling a little on her belly as he did, and reached for the water bottle. She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. He unscrewed the top and held it up to her groin in the nick of time.

“Oh, fuck!” Meagan gasped as she let go. “Feels like coming all over again…”

He kissed her. “I love you,” he said.

“Right back at you—so much.”

Her usual piss explosion passed quickly and she collapsed back onto the bed. He recapped the bottle and set it aside.

“I should wash up,” she said, “but I don’t wanna get up.”

“I’d go get a washcloth and clean you, since I was the one who made the mess,” he said, “but turns out I’m still tied to you.”

She pushed herself up on her free arm enough to kiss him again, and then said, “Well, maybe it’s time to untie the knot.”

“But only literally, not figuratively.”

She grinned. “Not for a year and a day!”

When he’d washed her off, and with both of them under the covers, and with her snuggled close against him, he mused, “A year and a day.”

“Well, we’ve done the day. And it was amazing.”

“Seriously. This was not what I was expecting, when we woke up…”

“I’m so happy, Parker. I’m so happy I almost don’t trust it.”

“Trust it,” he said firmly. “Trust me.”

“I do. I really do.”

“So—a year.”

“And then the year after that, and the year—and a day—after that…”

“I won’t try to imagine how many times,” he said.

“Tonight, of all nights, I think we can imagine.”

“No pressure?”

“Not right now.”

“Well. We can certainly imagine the year. Thanksgiving coming, and then Christmas after; should we go home for that again?”

“Yes please. Maybe we’ll do Thanksgiving on our own, but I love Christmas with your family.”

“Yours now, too.”

“That… sounds pretty amazing.”

“I’m pretty stunned by it.”

“And then maybe we’ll go somewhere in the summer. A road trip.”

“Mmmm. We had a lot of fun on our last one, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but let’s get out of Michigan this time. Go see some real mountains. Or the ocean.”

“Mountains. We’ve seen the ocean.”

“You don’t want to see me in a bikini again?”

“Didn’t say that. But still, mountains.”

“Even if I’m squirming a little?”

“You have such talent, my love; I bet you’ll be able to squirm in the mountains, too.”

“Okay. And then after that…”

 

[Weasel 1,095]

And here's the last little bit.

--------------------------------------------

Winter

“Merry Christmas, love,” Parker said, handing over a small, inexpertly-wrapped present.

“What do we have here?” Meagan said. She shook it—no rattle. She squeezed it—it gave. “Socks!” she said, slightly surprised… and then she roared with laughter.

“Socks?” Will Daniels said, leaning forward. “Particularly hilarious socks? Do they have witty remarks printed on them? Or dirty jokes?”

“No, just socks,” Parker said.

“Okay…” his father answered. “So the last time we gave you socks, Parker, you were resentful for weeks, so what’s the deal here?”

“Dad, I was twelve! Of course I was resentful!”

“It’s a long story. And kind of an inside joke,” Meagan said, wiping her eyes.

“I can tell them, unless you’d rather keep it between us,” Parker said.

“Well, now that it’s safely over…”

“Last August we had a big fight,” Parker began to explain. “Meagan left the apartment. And I thought she might be leaving me. So I packed a bag for her…”

 

 

 

Summer

“Oh, my god!” Meagan said.

“You know, love, that’s the closest I’ve ever heard you come to squealing?”

“I’m just… I just can’t… I’m in awe. And in love. I have never seen anything quite this gorgeous.”

“Not even me?”

“You’re not fourteen thousand feet tall, Parker.”

“So size does matter! The truth comes out at last…”

“This is just so… I’m at a loss for words.”

“How you feelin’ otherwise?” he asked casually.

“Oh, I am absolutely bursting,” she replied, “but this is more important. And, um, honestly, I know we had a plan—but now that we’re here, I almost feel like peeing here would be sacrilegious.”

“Want to keep driving and find a gas station, then?”

“Oh, fuck no, I can’t hold it that long. I said almost. But I want to take pictures of the vista, not of me. This view is too gorgeous to have a picture of me peeing in front of it. Sorry, hon.”

“It’s okay—as long as we also take a picture or two of us in front of the vista. I’ll know what that special look in your eyes meant.”

“Deal. And then I’ll piss by the car. You can take a picture of that, if you want, nothing sacrilegious about pissing on a tire.”

“I’ll set up the tripod.”

“Take your time, love. I can wait… a little bit…”
   

 

 

Spring

Parker knew the rhythm of the photographer’s year pretty well by now. In fall, it was school photos. In winter, family Christmas cards. In spring, prom shots and graduation photos. Tonight it was a prom, doing his best to make the awkward teens look beautiful. (He was studiously ignoring the girls in the deep-cut dresses and short skirts who were already pretty darn beautiful.) He enjoyed doing it—it was way better than working with little kids—but it had been a long day, and now looked to be a long night.

His phone dinged.

“Looks good, you two!” he said to his latest subjects. “Enjoy the dance!” Then he paused for a “water break” and quickly took a look at his phone.
    
    Last three clients *all* ran late, no chance for a bathroom break
    want that to be for your benefit?

He looked at the line of high schoolers waiting for him to take their picture.
    
    Love to, but can’t come home soon

    If soon can be in the next two hours, offer still stands

    Holy fuck I love you

    I know   

He didn’t exactly hurry through his next few clients, but he did move a little more quickly. A little less stopping to chat. A little faster and simpler on the arrangements. And he didn’t notice the girls at all.

    Okay, finishing up here. Gonna pack my gear and go. Home in 30.

    Here’s what I look like right now:

—and she sent him a picture of her legs. Tightly crossed.

    But they’ll be open for you when you get home.

    Gaaaah that’s hot

    😉
    Drive safe!

 

 

Fall

“We know that our relationship has always been a little weird,” Parker began.

“And we know that some of you are still a little miffed at us for doing the first of these without you all,” Meagan continued.

“So we’re just grateful to you all for being here with us today,” Parker said.

“And we’re even more grateful to those of you who helped us stay together, across all these years. Dacy, Mitchell, Dr. Vince, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels…”

“All of you, really.”

“So today is about you as much as it is about us. It’s not just so I could make Parker wear a suit again.”

“Well, love, should we make them wait a little longer, or should we do this?”

“Let’s do it. Who’s got the ribbon?”

As they wound the ribbon around their joined hands, Meagan began it:

“Before the eyes of these our friends, I, Meagan, take you, Parker, to have and to hold for a year and a day, in sickness and health and in love and in rage and in everything in between. Again.”

“And I, Parker Daniels, “before the eyes of these our friends, take you, Meagan, to have and to hold for a year and a day, no matter what. I believe that’s our traditional formula, yes?”

“Well, that and the God of Hedgehogs. Can’t forget him.”

“Well thanks a lot, lover, now we have to explain our in-joke to everyone.”

 

 

Summer

“I just wanted to say,” Meagan whispered in his ear, “how very, very proud of you I am.”

“I know.”

“Well, yeah. I know you know, doofus. I just like saying it to you.”

They walked around the coffeeshop, looking at the photos on the wall. Black-and-white landscapes, some of them; some with human figures in them, some not; some in color, but with deliberately washed-out colors, a little more abstract.

“Freaking gorgeous,” Meagan murmured, looking at one.

“You know what I’m thinking?”

“Mmm?”

“I was originally gonna go into videography. And here I am selling black-and-white artsy-fartsy photos at a coffee shop.”

“You weren’t interested in doing photography when you were a kid?”

“Oh, yeah, of course I was, but videos just seemed so much cooler.” He squeezed her hand. “Until a certain photoshoot session back at Franklin House…”

“I changed your career trajectory, huh?”

“Changed my whole life,” he said. “Why would my career not be part of that? Be glad I was into video at one point, though, that’s why I joined the Ultimate team and met you. Again.”

“Oh, I am glad. So much.”

“Nothing’s sold yet,” Parker muttered.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m still enormously proud of you. In fact…”

“Hmm?”

She whispered in his ear, “Now that you develop photos yourself—we don’t need to use the Polaroid any more, now do we?”

He shivered a little. “Guess not.”

“Want to go home and start a new series right now?”

“That sounds great.”

“Want me to get some black tea to go?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

When she returned from ordering, tea in her hand, she saw the faraway look in his eye. “You’re planning something.”

“Would you mind terribly, some day when neither of us have clients, going out to the country or a big park and doing a photo shoot where you held it for a long time? Like, go all-out on the lighting and posing?”

“No,” she said.

“No?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind terribly. I love the sound of that. Especially since I just know you’re going to make me wait until you get the shot just right, aren’t you?”

“Mmmhmmmmm.”
    

 

 

Winter

“It’s just so silly.”

“Drink more, then.”

“Oh, I gotta pee already.”

“I meant more alcohol. You’ll be feeling the Mardi Gras spirit in no time.”

“Yeah, but… throwing me beads? Dude, if you wanna see my tits, all you gotta do is ask.”

“It’s traditional!”

“Well, it’s a dumb tradition. And sexist, and generally creepy and male-gazey. And how old a tradition can it really be, anyway?”

“If you wanna stop—”

“Seriously, though, what’s the appeal?”

“The appeal? Well, I’ve never been to New Orleans, let alone Mardi Gras, and I don’t think we’re about to be able to go any time soon.”

“No, for the flashing.”

“Um. Probably a power thing?”

“Right. So again, if you wanna see my tits, I am more than happy to take this shirt off and leave it off all night. But let’s talk it out first, okay?”

“Well, that sounds excellent, but we might wanna wait on that.”

“How come?”

“Well, another Mardi Gras tradition is drinking so much you gotta piss in an alleyway. And since we have an alleyway just outside…”

“It’s too cold for that tonight. And what would the neighbors think?”

“Well, I think that if you’re thinking that way, you haven’t had enough to drink.”

“I’ll do this, though: I will pee anywhere inside the apartment that you want, and we can pretend it’s an alleyway.”

“A New Orleans alleyway. Since we’re pretending.”

“Done.”

“Deal. But I still want you to flash me.”

“While I’m peeing?”

“But of course.”

 

 

 

Summer

“No! I said no, and I mean no, mmmmmmkay?”

“All right, all right. What’s one more thing?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just feels like you’re getting your way a lot lately. I’m really looking forward to it being my turn again soon.”

“This is not ‘take-turns’ kind of thing! This is fuckin’ serious, Parker. So shut up and deal!”

“I’m gonna go take a walk.”

“If it gets you to be quiet, go for it.”

“Hmm, on second thought, I think I’d rather stay. Make a little noise, maybe.”

“For fuck’s sake, Parker, get out. Go take that walk. Make it a nice long one, too.”

 

Summer—later:

“Mmmmmmmmmmmm. That was nice.”

“I love make-up sex.”

“Wait, were we making up? What for?”

“Forgotten already?”

“Apparently.”

“Damn, I’m better in bed than I thought.”

“Oh, are you then? Quick, what were we arguing about?”

“…Ummm…”

“So I guess we’re both pretty good, huh?”

“Yup. Wanna go pee?”

“Together? Absolutely.”

 

Summer, even later than that:
“Just remembered what we were fighting about.”

“Don’t tell me.”

“Wasn’t gonna. Dear god, that was silly… pass me your pillow, I wanna hit myself in the face with it for being a doofus.”

“Well, I’m not gonna do that. But want me to fuck you into forgetfulness again?”

“Yes please.”

 

 

 

Fall
“Mmmmmmmmmm. This is nice. Good idea, lover.”

“I figured you’d appreciate making me wait.”

“I meant the bed and breakfast. And the lake. The whole long weekend. It’s a nice change of pace.” Parker stroked Meagan’s taut bladder. “This isn’t so much a change.”

“Getting routine?”

“A delightful routine. Never humdrum.”

“Well, I still want to do something special with it. It’s handfasting, after all.”

“So, you want to go around again? Another year?”

“No, I got us a B&B and held it for you during the drive up here and I’m lying naked in bed with you while still holding it because I plan on dumping you next week.”

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case we’d better make this a good one.”

“Absolutely. Now, I gotta go, but we’ve got a little time—how do you want to do this?”

“Mmm. Tell you what I want to do: I want to tie the ribbon while we’re fucking.”

“Heh, that’s a new variation.”

“Well, I thought of it last year, but I wasn’t sure would go for it.”

“Last year we had fifteen guests.”

“Yeah, that’s why.”

“Well. I had something else I wanted to do while we’re fucking, too. I guess the only question is if you want me to hold it until after.”

“Is your thing gonna take a while?”

“It might, yeah.”

“I leave it up to you to decide, then.”

“I’ll go now, then—unless you’re going to be secretly disappointed?”

“Nah. But I get to watch you pee.”

“Of course!”

She sat on the toilet and smiled up at him as he stroked himself. “I really love being able to turn you on this way,” she said. “It’s so handy. Don’t need to spend extra money on it, don’t need to get special outfits, just drink some water and wait.” She wiped, stood up, and took his hard-on in hand. “Mmm. You need more, I think.”

“And we’ve barely even started with you. Vibe or tongue or fingers?”

“Tongue and fingers, please?”

“You got it.”

Back at the bed, he slid a finger into her and found her clit with his tongue, working both sides of the clitoris at once. “Slowly, please,” Meagan said. “That’s real intense, I need to ease into it.” He obliged.

After some time of this, Meagan said, “Mmm. Okay, please keep doing that, but can you also start touching yourself, too? And think of me desperate. What’s your favorite memory of me bursting?”

“Too many to pick,” Parker said. “But the treehouse always comes to mind.” He resumed licking.

“Mmm. Good one. I was thinking you might pick graduation.”

“Which one?”

“Fair point… mmm. Yes, that’s a nice pattern, keep doing that. And keep jacking off.”

A few minutes later, Parker drew back. “You feel really, really ready to me.”

“I think I am. You?”

“Maybe a little more.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

She straddled him, slid down onto him. “Got the ribbon?”

“Better. I got the hoodie drawstring again.”

“Aww, sweetie!” She thrust twice, and held up her hand for him to tie. “Wait—is it my turn to keep my right hand, or yours?”

“We may not get out of this bed the whole time we’re tied. Does it matter?”

“Guess not.”

She had to pause her thrusts so he could do the honors, but she squeezed him every now and then. She began again as she began their words.

“I take you, Parker—in more than one way—to have and to hold for a year and a day…”

“I take you, Meagan, no matter what…”

They weren’t even close to climaxing, though. “You said you wanted to do something else while we were fuckin’?” Parker asked as Meagan rode him.

“It might not be the best possible time for this conversation, but, um—I wanna have your baby.”

Parker’s brain seized.

“Not right this second, silly!” she laughed.

“Don’t scare a man like that, partner! Not enough blood for both ends!”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Uhh—remember Thanksgiving Week? When I held it for you while I was washing the dishes?”

“I do indeed…”

“Better?”

“Mmm. A few more memories, please.”

“Photoshoot.”

“Which one?”

“The one in the autumn leaves. Those pictures you got of me leaning against a tree…”

“Oooh, yeah. That was a good one.”

“Back on track?”

“You got me.”

“I do. I do.”

Later, as they untied the drawstring, Parker said, “A baby. Wow. That would be… a lot. I’ll need to think about it.”

“Let’s take the whole year to think about it. ‘Good in every season,’ right? And then we can decide by next handfasting.”

 

 

 

Summer

Julia Bristow was so apologetic about recruiting Meagan for a bit of camp counseling that Parker eventually had to leave her office just to escape the “I’m Sorry” bombardment. Luckily he had plenty to occupy himself. The New Mexican scenery wasn’t so much suggesting photography as demanding it. He tramped up the hillside above the camp and started shooting.

But it was almost too easy. The mountains were throwing themselves at his lens, and he barely had to think, so his mind kept drifting back to Meagan. It’s either that or you can’t keep your mind off her, boy.

They hadn’t been apart for so long in years. They’d done the long-distance thing during his senior year, and of course during that first summer, so it was an old familiar problem. It had even been a nice change of pace for a couple of days. But he’d woken up in the tent that morning before dawn and wondered where she’d gone—forgetting that she’d never been there. And then he’d remembered. And then he’d debated packing up the tent and driving for Camp Bristow then and there. He’d checked the time, decided 5:15am was too early, decided to go back to sleep and head out at a more reasonable hour, like maybe 7 or 8.

He made it as far as 5:37, and was on the road by 6:03.

Since he’d left so damn early and had made good time, he shouldn’t have been disappointed that Meagan wasn’t simply there waiting for him. But of course she wasn’t, and of course he was, and Julia had noticed and started apologizing, and that was why he was up on the hillside trying and failing to lose himself in shadow and line and color and angle.

Maybe if I switched film…?

I think I’m still gonna miss her in black and white.

But it would look dramatic as heck, so he switched anyway. The contours and lines of the New Mexican mountains should pop right out, but of course he couldn’t tell if the shot had come out right.

Kinda like not knowing how a relationship will turn out. But you gotta take the shot anyway.

He felt hungry. He’d had breakfast, though, and it took him a moment to realize that this was just another sign of missing Meagan. He wanted her so bad that it was starting to come through in physical symptoms. He was sneaking glances at the camp between every few shots to see if she was back yet, as if he’d even be able to tell from this distance.

He wondered about taking black-and-white photos of wildflowers, and squatted down to do a few of those just to see what would happen, and to keep his eye on his work and instead of the camp. That occupied him for a while, and when he looked up, Meagan was running straight for him. He had just enough time to get to his feet and get the camera around and shorten the shutter speed and snap one off before she tackled him.

Holy shit, I hope I got that one, he thought, and then he couldn’t think of anything else but her.

“Missed you,” she whispered in his ear when the kiss broke.

“Love you,” he whispered back.

A few minutes later, in another breath break, he said, “So I know we’re not supposed to have perfect moments…”

“I’ll allow it,” she said. “Just this once.”

    

The picture, when he developed it, had a lot of technical problems; he would have to crop it to get the angle and framing straight. And it hadn’t been ideal film for an action shot, though at least he’d sped it up; with the exposure time he’d been using on the flowers, it would have been hopelessly muddled.

But he’d caught her in midstride, and with a look on her face that he’d savor forever. Not an adoring or loving look—she’d been looking where to put her feet, not looking at him. But of course she’d been looking intently. Which meant she wanted to get as close as she could as quick as she could, and that meant everything.

Years later, he hung a print of the picture in the front hall where he could see it every day.

 

 

 

Spring

“I’m sorry, love, I wanted to do more for your birthday, but I’m exhausted.”

“I understand. Rain check until next weekend?”

“For full scale fuckin’? I hope so. But for tonight, though, if you want to get the pictures out, I’ll remember with you.”

“You’re sure.”

“Sex ain’t optional. We’ve been over this. Even if it has to be a little minimal tonight.”

“Hand job?”

“Mmm, why don’t you get yourself started, and I’ll finish you?”

“I’ll take it.”

He spread the photos out—a mixture now of the old Polaroids and the more recent prints.

“Now to see which one holds his attention the longest,” she murmured.

“I really do like this one of you and the tree…”

“It does help me to hold when I put something between my legs. Just never thought it would be an entire tree trunk.”

“And I really like this one from our first photoshoot ever.”

“I remember that night. You kept me waiting for ages. My god was I bursting.” She picked up another picture from that photoshoot—a little less revealing, more artsy. “And my god was I young.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Liar. You’ve seen the lines around my eyes.”

“Those are from smiling so much. I count those as a gain.”

“I wish they were. Too much stress, lover. Too much stress.”

“Want a back rub?”

“Maybe later. You’re in the middle of something.”

“This one from the New Year’s blackout is super-hot.”

“Let me see… mm. Dramatic as fuck with that lighting. And those crossed legs. I see the appeal.”

“But my favorite is this one.”

“Was I holding it in that shot?”

“No, you’d already peed.”

“I thought I looked more relaxed… so why is it your favorite?”

“Because of how incredible you look. And your attitude. That over-the-shoulder look—and the hat, of course, absolutely is the cherry on top. You are so gorgeous. That day, in that picture, you show how much you know it. The beauty inside and the beauty outside match up.”

She placed a hand on his hand on his hard-on, stopping his stroking. “Say that again,” she said.

“The beauty inside and the beauty outside?”

She took a quick breath. “If you want to come in me, and you’re willing to be on top, and you say things like that while you’re doing it, you’re welcome to fuck me.”

“If you’re too tired…”

“Oh, you’d do all the moving.”

“But then you’d have to go clean up. And you look pretty cozy as is.”

She shrugged. “Up to you.”

“Let’s stick with the deal tonight,” he said, “and fuck like bunnies next time we can.”

“Then keep going, lover. And I’ll swallow.”

 

 

Fall

“So I just want you to know… I gotta pee.”

“Again?”

“Mmmmhmmmm. Just think about that for a bit, huh?” Her hand stroked him slowly.

“Dear god, woman, we’ve had sex seven times in the last five days. I honestly don’t know if I’ve got any cum left in my balls. I know we’re trying, but right now any sperm you’d get out of me would be the sludge at the bottom. Not the best for baby-making.”

She shrugged. “You’re so high-quality, Parker, that I’ll take your reject sperm any day.”

“I’m just pretty tired.”

“I gotta pee bad.”

“No way you do.”

“I had black tea earlier.”

“Is that so?”

“I may just have to cross my legs a bit…”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Make me wait, then.”

“I think I’ll have to. I’m sorry, love, I really am, but at this rate I’ll have nothing left by handfasting time. You’re draining me dry. You’ve been on fire for days, though…”

“It’s the control.”

“Oh, of course! I didn’t even think. Making me cum a lot is just as much fun as making me wait, isn’t it?”

“Can be.” She sighed and let his limp penis drop out of her hand. “Fuck, I was sure I could get you up again. And now I’m stuck needing to pee.”

“You seriously gotta go?”

“I don’t lie about peeing, Parker. Not to you. Not ever.”

“Can you hold it an hour?”

“Of course.”

“Then keep holding. I bet I’ll be up by then.”

As it was, it only took another fifteen minutes and some leg-crossing.

But she did have to be on top.
    

 

 

Spring

“I’m so sorry about this delay, folks,” the receptionist said. “And I know you’re uncomfortable, Ms. McAllister, but please, if you can just wait a little longer…”

“Not a problem,” Meagan said confidently. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Wait, weren’t you the one…?”

“Excuse me?”

“Right!” the receptionist said. “Usually most of our clients go straight to the bathroom after an ultrasound, but you actually went home. That stood out in my memory.”

Meagan shrugged. “Didn’t need to use it just then.”

Parker squeezed her hand.

“And Mr. McAllister…”

“Daniels, actually.”

“Oh, sorry! Mr. Daniels. You’re so good about coming to these appointments with her!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Parker said cheerfully.

After the scan was complete, though, Meagan practically sprinted for the restroom. She squeezed Parker’s hand in apology as they left the office, and then put it into words when they were back in the car.

“I’m sorry, love. I tried, I really tried.”

“The important thing is that we got the scan done, the baby’s healthy, and so are you.”

“But—”

“Nope. There will be none of that.”

Meagan laid a hand on his shoulder. “This is why I love you.”

“What, all of it? Just that one sentence?”

“Yes. Just that one sentence. I can see the future, you see, and so our entire relationship has been built off of that one moment.”

“And you didn’t warn us about…?”

“Don’t run this joke into the ground, lover.”

“I will say, though—if you’re feeling that apologetic, and if you’re not too tired, we could try again.”

“Ooof. I may take you up on that if we hit traffic.”

“That fast?”

“Dude, this kiddo we’ve made is staring down my bladder like a gunslinger and saying, ‘This crotch ain’t big enough for the both of us.’ I can barely make it forty-five minutes, these days.”

“What, are you telling me you’re losing? Has Meagan the Mighty met her match?”

“Oh, you fuckin’ went there? Just for that, I’m holding it until after dinner.”

 

As it was, though, they did hit traffic…
    

 

 

Winter

Parker woke up to realize Meagan was no longer in bed, and the baby was no longer screaming. He gradually became aware that there was a light on in the living room. He got up and padded quietly out to where Meagan was reading while nursing their child.

I can’t believe we made her.

Meagan was, unusually, not wearing a shirt or a robe, but just sitting topless on the couch as the baby nursed. Parker, standing in the doorway looking at his partner, felt an odd stirring. He realized that he recognized it. When he’d woken up a touch more, he realized that he was turned on.

Meagan glanced up. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, and came over to sit cross-legged on the couch, watching.

“What’s up?” Meagan asked.

“Is it weird that I find this kinda sexy?”

She put her book down. “The breastfeeding, or just the breasts?”

He thought about it. “You know, I’m actually not sure.”

“I did think you got a little hot and bothered when I told you about feeling so full of milk and needing to nurse her. A little similar to something else, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, “…and then I felt really weird about it.”

“That’s quite normal,” Meagan said. “I read up on how having a kid affects relationships. I could give you a whole lecture. But the basics are that new fathers often feel like the mothers of their children have moved out of the ‘sexy’ box in their heads, and into the ‘nurturing’ box.”

“Well, you’ve always nurtured me, and that’s never stopped me from finding you sexy,” Parker said. “As to the rest… uh, you’re definitely in the ‘sexy’ box right now.”

“Well, she’ll be asleep in a few minutes. And I still won’t be wearing a shirt.”

“We should be asleep too. We’ve got work in the morning.”

She laid a hand on his knee. “You sure? Because I also need to pee. I can’t yet, of course, because I want her to fall asleep first. And so I’ve been holding it since I woke up.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

She moved her hand to the crotch of his sweatpants. “There we go.”

“Mmm. How about you?”

She smiled. “I’m tired and worried, and I feel extremely unsexy.” She paused. “Correction. I felt extremely unsexy until a minute ago. And one of the things that was worrying me was us. We haven’t had nearly enough sex since she was born.”

“We’ve been tired. And busy.”

“Yeah—but.” She fondled him through the pants. “Take a worry off my mind, handsome. Make love with me.”

“Before or after you pee?”

“Definitely before,” she said immediately.

“Sold.”

“Still gotta wait for this one to go down.”

They sat, touching each other lightly and quietly, watching their child, waiting.

 

    

Summer

“Rest stop coming up,” Parker said quietly. “Need it?”

“How long until the next one?” Meagan whispered back.

“47 miles, the sign said.”

“I can hold it that long.”

“We can totally stop—”

“Well, the kiddo’s asleep. I don’t want to wake her.”

“True.”

“Besides. I said I could hold it. And I said it for your benefit.”

Parker took his eyes off the road to send her a half-smoldering, half-incredulous glance. “You’re serious.”

She shrugged. “Like I said: the kiddo’s asleep.”

“How do you want to play this out, though?”

“Memorize it for later, I think.”

Three miles past the rest stop, however, the kiddo woke up and complained that she needed to use the bathroom. Told that there would be another one in a bit over half an hour, she reported she couldn’t wait that long. So Parker took the next offramp, turned around, and headed back to the rest stop they just passed. Meagan took the offspring off to the restroom, Parker grabbed the chance himself, and when the family reunited by the car, the parents exchanged a look that said a lot.

Sorry, love.

Don’t be. There will be other times.

That’s a promise.

 

 

Spring

The girlchild was confused. She’d learned (somewhere… how did seven-year-olds pick this stuff up?) that parents had something called anny-verse-rees, which was like a birthday because it happened every year. But she also knew that it wasn’t handfasting—that happened in fall. So what was it anniversary for?

“It’s the anniversary of when your daddy and I became a couple,” Meagan answered, modeling the correct grammar in passing.

The girlchild wondered if it was when they started loving each other.

“That’s about right,” Parker said, grinning.

This satisfied the girlchild, except that she wanted to know why mommy and daddy were leaving her with grandfa and granmama.

“Because we like some private time now and then,” Parker said. “So we can oversleep.”

Meagan had to bite her knuckle to keep from laughing—which would just have raised more questions…
    

 

 

Fall

“So much we can do.”

“So much that we’ve done.”

“And we’re together. We’ve made our mistakes, but we’re together.”

“It’s a beautiful thing.”

“Always has been, even in the sadness and the rage.”

“True.”

“Another year…”

“At least one more. At the very least.”

“Love you so much.”

“Just like I love you.”

 

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

And there you have it, folks. This is the end.

Of course, I've said that before, when I announced that book three was the end, because I'd wrung the college-kid setup dry, and because I wanted to end well before the quality dropped off. But even as I posted the last chapter of "Housemates" I was thinking: Well, how would I do a "season 4"? And then that flipped around in my head to become "Four Seasons," and I decided a limited-run series, one chapter per season, would be interesting. And then I thought of how I wanted "Summertime, and the Peein's Easy" to end, and after that I had to write it and put these two kids we love through the wringer again. I needed some source of tension, and I'd never used the kink itself as the conflict in a Meagan & Parker story, so I decided to experiment.

And having put them through the wringer, I decided I had to show them working out the problems in their relationship and making a real commitment to each other. Which then allowed me to spin out more and more seasons in this last segment, showing that it worked.

But I gotta say, while I am so delighted with this story I've told over the years, I still think "Housemates" is the best part. So my fears about diminishing returns were true. I need to wrap this saga up for good. I definitely won't say "no Meagan and Parker ever again." But I will say any future stories will be one-shots, squeezed in here and there between the chapters we already have, and they'd have to be particularly high-quality ideas for stories or scenarios, not just "Oh, I want to see Meagan desperate again."

(Plus I really do need to start writing more non-omo stories!)

Thank you, all of you who have followed this story through. Thank you for the love you have for Meagan and Parker as characters, not just porn. Thank you for the encouragement and the feedback. It's been a delight to tell these tales for you, and I feel lucky that I've been able to see them through to the end. 

Take care, everyone.

[warham1995 820]

cool series, and that is nice that Parker and Megan had a kid. I think its funny that instead of giving the little tyke a name you called her a girl child

Edited October 21 by warham1995 (see edit history)

[ola93 362]

18 hours ago, Weasel said:

Thank you, all of you who have followed this story through. Thank you for the love you have for Meagan and Parker as characters, not just porn. Thank you for the encouragement and the feedback. It's been a delight to tell these tales for you, and I feel lucky that I've been able to see them through to the end. 

Take care, everyone.

Thank YOU, @Weasel, for writing a very, very good story centered around our shared interest. Stories this good and this long especially at the same time are rare and I thoroughly enjoyed it ('though I must admit you almost made me cry too at some points). I'll definitely miss it, but you're probably right about stopping in time and I'm very glad this series got the ending it deserved.

18 hours ago, Weasel said:

(Plus I really do need to start writing more non-omo stories!)

Now this little bit here stings a little more. I really do hope we'll get to read more from you some day, whether it's about Megan and Parker, their friend, their daughter, Bree and Tam, or whomever it may be.

[Weasel 1,095]

On 10/21/2023 at 11:03 AM, warham1995 said:

I think its funny that instead of giving the little tyke a name you called her a girl child

Yeah, that was kind of a last-minute decision, I suddenly thought that Meagan would be the kind of mom to not post her kid all over social media, and then I just extended that to no name and no dialogue. 

On 10/22/2023 at 2:58 AM, ola93 said:

('though I must admit you almost made me cry too at some points).

Ooooh, mission accomplished! But when...? Now I'm curious what made you tear up.

On 10/22/2023 at 2:58 AM, ola93 said:

Now this little bit here stings a little more. I really do hope we'll get to read more from you some day, whether it's about Megan and Parker, their friend, their daughter, Bree and Tam, or whomever it may be.

Definitely not daughter, that would be weird. Maybe Bree or Zephyr. But I really do need to write non-omo stuff if I'm ever gonna have a non-omo writing career!

[warham1995 820]

speaking of zephyr, are we going to get more of pi pi sigma after you are done writing non-omo stories? I suppose it does fit Megan's character to want to have a private life without any drama for her and her kid.

Edited October 23 by warham1995 (see edit history)

[ola93 362]

2 hours ago, Weasel said:

Ooooh, mission accomplished! But when...? Now I'm curious what made you tear up.

Well that big fight definitely was something, but there have definitely been moments before. I'd have to go back and read it all again to remember exactly. Maybe aome day I'll do just that.

[Flush 253]

Wow… just wow. This ending deserves a standing ovation, it’s so satisfying. So the story didn’t end in marriage, and I really didn’t see “the kid” coming, but it makes so much sense. Thank you so much for the “fan service”, Weasel (although you maybe don’t think of it that way), this way I feel “closure” about what has been an amazing journey. It’s so satisfying that I’m not even mad that it ended, and that you should never start Meagan and Parker again.

Although there has been a lot of amazing omorashi fiction on the internet over the last 20 years… This is something that has never been done before. This is not an omorashi story, this is great literature. Again, this deserves a standing ovation. This is what art is; you made something unique. My English vocabulary isn’t large enough to properly express my praise, but thanks a lot Weasel.

[Weasel 1,095]

On 10/22/2023 at 8:36 PM, warham1995 said:

speaking of zephyr, are we going to get more of pi pi sigma after you are done writing non-omo stories?

I'm never gonna be "done" with non-omo fiction. On the other hand, I can guarantee that at some point in my life I will be feeling both creative and horny... and when that day comes, PI Sigma Sigma is next on my omo list.

 

On 10/23/2023 at 8:52 AM, Flush said:

 It’s so satisfying that I’m not even mad that it ended, and that you should never start Meagan and Parker again.

Although there has been a lot of amazing omorashi fiction on the internet over the last 20 years… This is something that has never been done before. This is not an omorashi story, this is great literature.

Wow. High praise. Thanks, @Flush! And I gotta admit, I'm pretty proud of this saga I wrote, and proud of breaking the mold of omo stories. There have been other "meet cute/fall in love" stories ("Do You Have Anything to Confess?" comes to mind) but I did try to make this story more than just the porn and more than just the romance.

[warham1995 820]

sorry, i didn't mean to assume that there is anything wrong about writing non-omo stories. 

Edited October 30 by warham1995 (see edit history)

[Ranpalan 477]

Weasel, it's always a pleasure to read your stuff; I feel I might be missing out by not getting to see your non-omo stories 🙂  Thank you for making this little gem for us, and for what it's worth, this last part was different enough from the earlier installments that I'm glad you wrote it.  We need more people writing about healthy (or at least, believably healthy...) omo relationships instead of just wish fulfillment. Maybe I'll re-read it all and see whether I agree with your evaluation about which part is best.  (You don't plan to release the whole thing as a handy PDF, by any chance?)

[Foolishthree 31]

Why yes, I do go to my preferred porn fetish site to read a very wholesome story about two kids learning to get past codependency and build a healthy and mutually respectful relationship.

And come back later to read it again because it's the best thing I've read this week.

[Weasel 1,095]

On 10/27/2023 at 3:16 PM, Ranpalan said:

Weasel, it's always a pleasure to read your stuff; I feel I might be missing out by not getting to see your non-omo stories 🙂  Thank you for making this little gem for us, and for what it's worth, this last part was different enough from the earlier installments that I'm glad you wrote it.  We need more people writing about healthy (or at least, believably healthy...) omo relationships instead of just wish fulfillment. Maybe I'll re-read it all and see whether I agree with your evaluation about which part is best.  (You don't plan to release the whole thing as a handy PDF, by any chance?)

Thank you! Yes, I was definitely trying to model good relationships. And yes, I do plan on releasing a PDF at some point.

 

On 10/27/2023 at 7:02 PM, Foolishthree said:

Why yes, I do go to my preferred porn fetish site to read a very wholesome story about two kids learning to get past codependency and build a healthy and mutually respectful relationship.

And come back later to read it again because it's the best thing I've read this week.

Glad to oblige. And thanks for the kind words.