This is the second story about Jen and Dexter, and while this short story should stand alone, you can read about the start of their relationship in "The unexpected start of love". There are neither minors nor miners in this story.
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"Ok, yes, I sniffed her panties and I liked it. Sue me." - Dexter
--
The Pennsylvania winter was cold; one of the coldest years the great Commonwealth had endured in its long history. Dexter sat at the kitchen table getting his landscaping company caught up for next spring when the work would start again. With Jen out of town and winter slowing his business to the occasional snow plowing, it was much too quiet for Dexter. Even the dog was sedate, curled up in front of a heating vent with her nose tucked under her back leg, a hairy sable donut. His text alert sounded - the voice of an angry man saying "You got a text, mutha fucka" - and he looked at Jen's note.
Don't whack off. I'll be home tonight around 7
. It was followed by an emoji of an eggplant and three water droplets.
Dexter smiled at that and responded,
You're so romantic. But I haven't whacked off since you left on Monday. The deal was no -
Dexter inserted the closed fist and eggplant emoji -
while you were gone
.
Jen texted him an emoji of a hand with the first two fingers extended and the text
You're better than me!
and then the shoulder shrug emoji.
That deal was for both of us,
Dexter wrote
, Now I'm going to have to tease you until you beg me to let you finish. That was the deal.
Dexter thought for a few seconds before he finished the message. It was always so easy to misconstrue intentions by text and he was afraid this one could come off the wrong way. What was funny to him was often not funny to anyone else. He smiled as he thought, 'Ah, the pain of being immersed in a sea of mediocrity.' He finished the text.
2 mins for every hour until you get home. It's 2 pm
.
I think I might like that
, she teased back,
Love you and see you soon!
--
The airliner's public address crackled to life. "Good afternoon ladies and gentleman. You are very welcome to Princess Air flight 3601 to Harrisburg...," Jen stopped paying attention and glanced around the cabin. Nearly empty. The closest passenger to her was an older man a few rows behind her and across the aisle. Good looking, not amazing. Clean shaven, casually well dressed in a cardigan sweater and khakis. The kind of outfit that said hard-earned and unassuming wealth. His hair was brown with a bit of salt and pepper, still thick and wavy. Her eyes traveled from feet to crown as she assessed his body. 'Solid physique' Jen thought, 'All in all, a good effort.' The passenger reminded her of Dexter, a look of resilience about him. Dexter, survivor of an abusive and neglectful childhood that left him with scars both physical and invisible, complex post-traumatic stress disorder, attachment disorders, and while he was so strong to outside world, she held his fragility so lovingly and carefully. His traumas had left him with more empathy and compassion than any person she had ever known. Until him, she hadn't understood how much she yearned for that connection. Even when he retreated from her and cut himself off from everything when shame and self-hatred swamped him, she felt close. There was no other place she could be. Her perfect man. His perfect woman. Their physical relationship was an important part of their feelings of security; that bridge between them was always there and could almost always repair the emotional connection. And, she thought, sex like theirs was something she used to think of as the fanciful musings of online erotica.
The thought of what was waiting for her at home swept in and traveled down to leave her lady garden damp and tingling. Her hands squeezed her legs just above the knees in an effort to divert her attention. Jen looked up just as the safety instructions ended, "...We anticipate a 2 hour and 17 minute flight. Thank you for your attention and we wish you all pleasant travels."
Jen watched as the flight attendant strolled down the aisle, checking that the few passengers had raised their seat-backs to the full and upright position, ensuring they would survive a crash. 'Jesus,' Jen thought, 'How did I not notice her earlier?' Crimson hair, full of small curls flowing past her shoulders, full lips framed by small creases just off each corner that gave her a mischievously sexy look. Something about her looked familiar, like a celebrity doppelganger, the identity flirting with the front of her mind. "Bernadette Peters!" she said rather loudly.
The flight attendant was just passing Jen and turned with a warm smile. "I get that a lot, but thank you for the compliment!" she said.
Jen's face began to blush, "I'm so sorry. That was meant to be an inside thought."
"No, please, it's ok," the flight attendant said, "Bernadette Peters is gorgeous!"
Jen risked a quick look at her chest. The name tag read Paulina. The top few buttons of her white blouse were unbuttoned, a decidedly casual look, likely due to the small number of passengers. Her breasts were unremarkable, but Jen wondered if they were packed tightly into her bra. 'I must be pretty hard-up to be checking out her milkers,' she thought. A quick glance back showed her tight airline-approved black slacks highlighting Paulina's slim waist and legs. 'God, I bet you can see her abs,' setting off a fresh burst of tingling that buried itself deep within her burgundy skirt. Jen leaned forward and slipped out of her blazer, leaving her in just a sheer beige blouse with a thin bra and camisole underneath. She leaned back, willing herself to calm down.
--
Dexter went about tidying the house up; not that things were out of hand, but just little things that most men tend not to worry about. He would never let Jen return from a trip to anything less than a clean home. It was something important to him, and certainly one that she appreciated. Stray socks on the living room floor, a cereal bowl in the bedroom, those kinds of things. And there were the normal things such as cleaning bathrooms and vacuuming up the omnipresent hair from Dog. Dexter marveled at how much damage he could do to a bathroom, and how much hair Dog could shed.
He looked at Dog, contentedly curled up on the couch, "Between me and you, a lot of stuff comes from our bodies." Dog wagged her tail without lifting her head up. He knelt down and scratched her back, getting rewarded with her tail thumping on the couch. Dexter picked up the letter Jen had left him on the side table. It was something she did every time she went out of town, just a little way to stay connected and a little bit of fun. He sat next dog and read the letter for the umpteenth time.
Dear Dexter,
I always miss you while I'm gone, but it helps remembering some of the times we've shared. There are already so many wonderful memories! That day we were shopping. Not very romantic, was it? Or maybe the most romantic thing ever, if you call not being able to keep our hands off each other romantic. I was already a wet mess by the time we went to look at skirts. I'll never forget you "sneaking" into the changing room. Little knocks on the door and you scream whispered "Jen, let me in!" like no one heard that. I already had the first skirt on, that tight red one. Remember? You were sitting on the little bench when I turned around and asked how my ass looked. All you said was "yes" and your hands were all over it. It must have killed you to watch me shimmy out of that. If I remember right, the next skirt had fallen off the hanger and I had to bend down to get it with my ass towards your face. Yes, I did on that purpose. I admit it. I'll never know how you got my thong aside and your tongue in me that quickly. You're a sex ninja, I guess. I almost passed out it felt so good. When you finally entered me (from behind!!), it felt like fullness and pressure, like an explosion about to happen. I think it took like 5 thrusts and I was biting my hand to keep quiet when I came. So hard. Do you remember what I said after that? Of course you do. I dropped to my knees and finished you with my mouth (couldn't be walking around the mall with you dripping down my legs!) I still laugh thinking about the man in the store giving us a thumbs-up as we walked out.
Can't wait to make more memories!
Love, Jen
His eyes lingered on the letter while his mind held the feelings from that day. It was always more than just sex. It was her desire to be close to him, to be entwined physically, mentally and emotionally, that soothed the scars of the past. Jen always found ways to help Dexter stay close, and she knew it could be especially hard when she was away, just as she knew his scars and traumas would never really leave him, but it didn't matter to her. She loved him for who was now. The small reminders meant as much to her as they did to him.
Dexter looked over at Dog, whose tail was thumping again on the couch. "And I'm supposed read this and not take care of my own business for a whole week? I'm an oak, Dog, an oak."
--
Jen tried reading her book, some two-dimensional, non-descript thing she picked up off the New York Times bestsellers rack at the airport. Reading on an airplane was never her thing, even when it was a book that held her interest. Closing it without even a page marker, she leaned her head back and began to daydream about her pending homecoming.
"Um, Miss, you looked cold so I brought you a blanket."
