Fran didn't know when it started. They met the first year of college and had seemed perfect for each other, sharing everything. They could talk for hours about their childhoods, schooling, early jobs, early relationships. They actually listened to each other, noting carefully all the details that made up their existence. She felt so close to him, so totally one.
Now, they had been together for several years. The time had passed quickly for Fran and she was always surprised when she stopped to count and found the years mounting. She loved Chris so much, even more than before. But things had changed somehow. They still shared their days and thoughts, but now Fran was aware of a vacancy in his eyes, a perfunctory nod of his head. He didn't seem to listen anymore, not really.
Fran worried about it, as she worried about everything. They seemed to be growing apart, losing the special connection that made them different. Several times, she tried to bring it up with Chris, hesitantly mentioning her concerns. He would laugh it off, hold her for a moment, then release her into the arms of fear once again. She wasn't sure what to do to bring back the magic.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She packed her things and left a note for Chris, trying once again to explain her thoughts.
Dear Chris, I love you with all my heart. You mean everything to me. I just feel that I am not as important to you as I once was. I feel you are pulling away from me, losing interest in me. I guess I need to know that what I say is important, that what I want is important. I will be at my sister's house, trying to straighten out my mind. I love you. Fran
Chris was finally shaken. He took stock of his life and realized that Fran was important to him. Actually, more than important, she was critical to his happiness. He sat home the first night in shock and denial. He didn't really think she would stay away, that she could stay away. But she didn't return the next day, or the day after that. Each morning, he left for work, sure she would return to him that day. And each night, he came home to an empty, cold house. It amazed him to realize he could sense the lack of her warmth, her very scent, in all the rooms. He could hear slight remnants of her voice, her thoughts floating in the air. At night, he felt her in the bed, turning or shifting the covers.
Chris tried to call her, but she didn't want to talk to him yet. She was trying so hard to figure out what to do with her life, the sad life without Chris in it.
Chris did the next best thing. He called Fran's sister, Laurie. Laurie heard the misery in Chris' voice and, having watched Fran's unhappiness, wanted to help any way she could. They talked, planned and discussed. Finally they hit upon a perfect plan. Chris remembered something Fran had told him years ago, and thought perhaps this was the way to win her back.
That Friday, Laurie and her husband were going out with friends. They invited Fran, but were not at all surprised when she declined. She hadn't gotten dressed for days, preferring her soft, baggy sweats and slippers. They left her curled up on the couch, the fire blazing, a thick quilt wrapped around her and her misery, watching an old movie on TV. As much as they hated leaving her alone, it was part of the plan, so they giggled as they went out to the car.
The movie was a very old one. The main characters hated each other on sight, an event that always promised true love before the final credits. Fran had a huge bowl of buttery popcorn and a big glass of pink lemonade, her favorite movie snack. She sat mesmerized by the unfolding love story, sighing as she thought of Chris and her own failed romance.
When the doorbell rang, she jumped. She wasn't expecting anyone. Nervously, she moved to the door and peeked out. It was Chris, grinning and looking right at her. Hesitantly, she opened the door a crack and asked him what he needed.
Chris looked around and leaned closed to whisper, "Hello, pretty girl. I know you are babysitting and not allowed company, but I had to see you. I even brought your favorite ice cream." Chris held up a container of mint chocolate chip ice cream and tried to look winning.
All of Fran's teen fantasies came flooding back. "The Babysitter and her Boyfriend". How many nights had she babysat with neighborhood kids and wished she had a boyfriend who would come by and bring her ice cream and then make out with her on the couch while the children slept? She and her other dateless friends had discussed it at length, deciding who would be allowed to come into the house, what he would have to bring as a bribe, and how far they would let him go in the making out.
Of course, it never happened. But it was a fantasy that she still remembered clearly, one she had shared with Chris when they first met. Suddenly, it occured to Fran that Chris remembered! Right down to the flavor of ice cream she was most likely to succumb to!
Her mind battled with her heart. God, she wanted nothing more than to throw open the door and invite him in! But her mind wondered if this was just a passing thing, if Chris would return to his less-than-interested self once she was safely ensconced in their apartment. Then she looked into Chris's unique silver eyes, and her heart won.
She opened the door, whispering that the kids were asleep and he would need to be very quiet. She admonished him that he could share a bowl of ice cream and then he would have to leave.
Chris agreed to everything. He entered quietly, leaving his shoes at the door, sliding silently by her, filling her head with his own special scent. She stood there, inhaling him, remembering every moment of their lives together.
She moved to the kitchen to get bowls and spoons. Chris came up behind her and encircled her with his arms, pulling her close. He nibbled on her neck, kissing up and down the length of it, lingering at the extremely sensitive nape that Fran had always said was her weakness. She had to make a decision, she had to know right now what to do. It meant a lot that Chris had remembered her babysitter fantasy and had obviously planned with Laurie to surprise her. His lips were moving up and down her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever he touched. In an instant, Fran made her decision. She entered wholeheartedly into the fantasy.
"Ooooh, Chris, you shouldn't be doing that! I am responsible for these kids! The parents trust me! They would be very upset if they knew I had let some guy into the house, not to mention if I were necking with him. Besides....." Her point was lost as Chris slipped his hand over her breast, cupping it securely, his thumb massaging the hardening nipple.
"Besides...." Chris whispered against her neck, waiting for the rest of the sentence. But all he could hear was Fran's rapid breathing as she leaned back against him, surrendering. He moved his hand then, hearing her sigh with disappointment. Slowly, he turned her to him, keeping his hands on her upper arms as he pulled her close and leaned down for a kiss. He had missed her so much, missed having her in his life AND his bed. Being this close to her, touching her again, reminded him of all the good things she had brought into his life.
He closed his eyes and softly pressed his lips to hers. Gently rubbing back and forth, he just enjoyed the contact, knowing there was lots of time. He felt her lips opening beneath his, and took the invitation, slipping the tip of his tongue into her hot mouth, thrusting lightly. She happily sucked on his tongue, pulling it deeper into her, teasing it with her own. They played lovers' games; touching, evading, swirling, sucking. They stood together, hips dancing, hands clutching, as only their tongues moved happily.
Fran traced his lips slowly, lingering at the corners, delving there, making him moan. His hands still gripped her arms, but she could feel his erection pressing into her tummy. She slid her own hands under his shirt, finding the smooth skin of his back, and re-learning. Her palms were warm, actually hot, as she traced the planes and valleys of his body. Her breasts pressed against him, her nipples hard and aching. She arched her back, attempting to get even closer. Still, Chris kissed her. She whimsically thought that he was kissing her senseless, which he was. She was losing all sense of reality, totally losing herself in the story of the love-crazed girl being visited by her crush.
Calmly, Chris kissed her softly on her nose and turned to the ice cream, opening it and spooning some out....one bowl, one spoon only. He took her hand and walked her to the living room, with the comfy couch all warmed by the fire. He settled her there, moving about the room, dimming lights. Then he snuggled next to her, pulling the quilt over both of them and holding her close. He fed her ice cream as he seemed to lose himself in the movie. Fran didn't really care, as long as he was this close.
For the next two hours, they cuddled and watched, with Chris reaching to her for a long, lingering, occasional kiss. It kept Fran on the edge. She never knew when he would decide to hold her, kiss her. She loved that. It was much better than a constant barrage of hands and lips. It was extremely exciting. She surrendered to him each time, sinking into the pleasure of his touch and taste.
