"I figured. That's okay. It happens. But why are you asking me about all of this instead of talking about what's wrong?" I was almost certain I knew the answer, but I needed to hear her say it.
"I'm not sure, honestly. I guess I just wanted...to live vicariously for a little while. I'm tired of the manipulated family time and the manufactured...alone-together time. It feels so artificial and I feel like my house is a cage. So I needed to escape somehow, for just a little bit."
I chuckled softly. "So you invited me to come have lunch. So that you could live vicariously through a twenty-five-year-old woman who is not only your former mentee, but also visiting home for quite possibly the last time before leaving for good to move across the country. To escape your cage of a house without having to leave. To live vicariously through this young woman, who happens to be a lesbian."
She nodded, looking down again.
I leaned back in fascination. "Living through me might be a dangerous pastime."
She gazed up slowly. "Maybe I don't want to live through. Maybe...maybe I want to live with. Just for a bit."
I smiled, just a little bit bigger than before upon hearing the answer I was hoping for, but still small enough to continue the guise of casual chit-chat so she wouldn't be scared off.
"What does that mean?"
"What do you think it means?" She returned softly, maintaining real, steady eye contact. It was my turn to be taken aback, but I refused to show it. Instead, I took control.
"I think," I returned, standing and walking slowly to her, kneeling beside her chair and resting my left arm on the table, "that you want to feel what I feel. I think you want to be filled with the softness and the comfort and the complexity." I gazed down at her hands in her lap, gently taking her left in my right while I stood, lifting her with me. "I think you want me to fuck you."
She seemed only a little shocked at my bluntness. I didn't give her a chance to respond. Instead, I turned and pulled her slowly towards her staircase and up to her bedroom. I turned back to face her, and she didn't look surprised anymore. She seemed almost intoxicated by her own thoughts, by the way she found herself moving. I clasped my fingers in hers, lifting my other hand to softly stroke her cheek. I smoothed over her lips with my thumb. I let go of her hand and ran my fingers through her hair, gently pulling her closer to me, my lips finally, delicately touching hers. She melted just a little and fell sitting onto the bed.
I broke the kiss and stared into her icy-blue eyes. They contained multitudes; suddenly I knew exactly what Darwin meant when he first dreamed about the origin of species. He wasn't just talking about evolution, or the Beagle expedition, or the contradiction of the Church of England. He was talking about instincts and sex and desire. Animals feel them, and aren't we animals, after all? I could tell the woman in front of me certainly did.
She drew in a small, sharp, quiet breath, then reached her hand to the nape of my neck, pulling me gently back towards her. She laid on the bed and I kneeled above her, straddling her torso. She closed her eyes as I slowly pulled her dress off from beneath me, followed by my own shirt. I tossed both on the floor. I slid my left hand under her neck and held her cheek in my right, lifting her head so our lips could touch again. She reached behind me and pulled my pants off, dropping them on top of our other clothes.
I moved from her lips and kissed her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. I slipped a finger under a lacy bra strap and then slid the whole thing off - I don't remember how. My mouth grazed her breasts, leaving a trail of delicate kisses down her chest to below her belly button. She ran her hands through my hair, tilting her head and arching her back, overtaken by the complexity.
I tucked the tip of my finger in the waistband of her lace panties and pulled them down slowly and deliberately. I smelled her warmth and wetness and muted sweetness, gently blowing cool air onto her. Another sharp breath from her beautiful mouth, louder this time, an almost animal-like moan.
I couldn't help myself; I smiled through my work.
I took one of her small nipples in my mouth as I moved my hand slowly down her side, barely making contact with the surface of her smooth skin. She nearly wriggled out of my grasp; I couldn't help a quiet chuckle escaping my lips. I used the breath that had grown in the pit of my stomach to blow gently on her chest. She convulsed slightly and I smiled again. She was enjoying herself, and she wasn't holding back.
Finally, I kissed my way down to the soft hair between her thighs, stopping only briefly to pay extra attention to her soft, toned belly. My lips and tongue took complete control of her and she whimpered. I continued, gradually increasing my pace, until she was at the brink of ecstasy. I easily slipped two fingers within her, and that was enough. She gasped - so loudly it was almost a shriek - and her entire body trembled. She tore at the bedsheets, clutching fistfuls of them to stabilize herself. Her back arched beautifully, creating the perfect fermata, and I slid my hands beneath it, gently massaging her muscles into relaxation as she came down from her high. I moved back to her stunning face and kissed her so she could taste herself on my lips. She sighed, reaching up yet again to run her fingers through my hair.
"It's that joy and comfort and meaning and complexity," I reiterated, whispering into her ear, brushing my lips against her temple. "Do you feel it with me?"
"Yes," she whispered back, barely making a sound, eyes still shut. "I see what you mean now."
"No need to live vicariously." I kissed her again, relaxing beside her. "Just live."
