Lying in bed with Jack, Caitlin was glowing in the afterlight of a night full of stars and fireworks. She could not believe how good she felt, how full of joy and excitement. 'I never thought sex could so...fulfilling,' she thought with wonder. 'I never thought that I could feel so free, so sexy, and so comfortable.'
She enjoyed Jack's gentle teasing after lovemaking. Snuggled up next to him in the cozy comfort of the RV's bed, listening to the rain spattering on the roof, she thought she could definitely get used to this. Traveling across the country with Jack, popping into town after town, city after city, exploring this great country -- the idea was extremely appealing to her. She was looking forward to getting to know him better, and of course she was looking forward to more sexual adventures. Jack was an amazing lover, making her feel things that she hadn't even dreamed were possible. He made her want to explore herself, explore him. She was discovering a whole new side to herself, and she loved it.
Jack's blue eyes were sleepy, his brown hair tousled, and the blue sheets were tangled around his waist in a way that showed off his powerful chest. She had trouble keeping the smile off of her face as she looked at him, and she giggled as he joked about her sexual appeal.
His eyes were half-closed as he was drifting off, and he mumbled, "Have you figured out that I love you yet?"
She felt the smile fall from her face as she gaped at him. He sat up fast, panic written across his face.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he said, his voice high and quick with concern.
She lowered her head, red curls falling across her face as she tried to decide how to respond. She just wasn't prepared to deal with this -- love? He loved her? After a few hours? Was he playing her? She tried to imagine losing him after hearing that he loved her -- she had promised herself that she would never let anyone hurt her again. The mere thought of being hurt by Jack after he professed his love broke her heart -- how badly would it hurt if it actually happened? The silence stretched out into an eternity.
Jack's expression was pinched with worry, but he remained silent. He didn't want to push her, and certainly didn't want to make things worse.
Finally, Caitlin raised her head and forced a smile at him. "Don't worry about it, Jack. It's fine." She hopped out of bed, still wrapped in one of his sheets, and headed for the door. "I'm going to get ready for bed," she said in a cheerful voice that didn't ring true to him.
Jack watched her leave the bedroom with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 'Idiot,' he cursed himself. 'Yeah, tell her you love her after what, four or five hours? That's genius. Real slick.' He sighed to himself, climbing out of bed to pull his boxers on. Walking over to the mirror that hung on his closet door, he stared at his reflection. His brown hair was tousled from his adventurous evening, and he distractedly smoothed it down. His fingers lingered on the silver specks just lightly dusting the hair around his temples, his eyes critically analyzing the crow's feet that had formed near his eyes in his late thirties. The many women he'd dated in the last five years or so had told him that the touch of gray made him look distinguished. Granted, these women had not been twenty-three years old. He frowned at his reflection, wondering how he could have been so stupid to think that this young, beautiful, strong woman would fall in love with him.
In the tiny bathroom, Caitlin turned on the shower and let the sheet fall to the floor. Stepping into the shower, she let the hot water stream over her body in tiny rivulets. She braced her hands against the far side of the shower and tilted her head down, taking slow, deep breaths. She felt the steam rise around her, enveloping her.
'He loves you.' The thought echoed through her head. She didn't know what to feel, and she was worried that her reaction in the bedroom was hurtful to him. But what was she to do? She couldn't just say she loved him back to be nice. She didn't know if she loved him.
'How do I know whether I love him or not?' she wondered. Though her father was a wonderful man, she sincerely doubted if her mother had ever loved him. And her mother certainly didn't love Stanley. She couldn't even know about love vicariously through Shanna, as Shanna had certainly never been in love. Shanna was very open about her decision not to settle down until she was at least thirty. 'I have had no role models for successful relationships in my entire life,' she thought miserably. Maybe once Jack discovered her serious ineptitude for romance, he would change his mind about her. He would decide she wasn't quite as strong and successful as he'd originally thought.
She leaned down and felt around outside the shower for her pack, digging out her toiletries. She shampooed and conditioned her curls, which had turned deep red from the water. Squeezing out some body wash onto her hands, she began to run her hands over her body, rubbing her creamy skin until it was pink. Finally, she turned off the water and reached for one of the navy blue towels hanging on a hook next to the shower. Blotting herself dry, she slipped into the white cotton pants and tanktop that made up her sleep attire. Washing her face and brushing her teeth quickly, she paused before going back to the bedroom.
She stared into the mirror that was above the sink. It was steamed over, and she studied the blurry image pensively. A peachy oval blob surrounded by a curly mess of dark red fire was reflected, with two sharp emeralds in the middle. Thoughtfully, she raised her hand and slowly swept her fingers across the image, which sharpened as the steam was wiped away. 'Maybe that's what love is like,' she mused. 'The person you were gradually becomes clearer because the type of man you love indicates what it is that you really want, and therefore, who you really are.' Shaking her head, she turned from the mirror and headed back to the bedroom.
Jack had changed the sheets and fixed the comforter, and was lying in bed looking at the doorway, worry in his eyes. She forced a bright smile to hide the confusion that was swirling around in her mind. Climbing into bed next to him, she reached over and switched off the lamp that was on his nightstand.
A hazy glow filtered through the RV's bedroom window from the lampposts in the rest area outside. She would have preferred complete darkness so that she wouldn't have to look at the concerned expression on Jack's face.
"Caitlin, I --" Jack began.
She leaned over and silenced him with a kiss. "Jack, don't worry about it. Everything's fine, I'm good. Let's just get some rest, okay?" She hated shutting him out like this, but until she figured out her own feelings, she didn't want to mislead him with speculation of her true feelings.
"Sure," he said in a quiet voice. "Good night."
"Good night," she responded. She shifted onto her side, facing away from him, and held her breath, hoping he would let it go for the night. To her relief, she felt him settle under the covers.
But Jack wondered if he would be able to sleep. He was terrified that Caitlin would leave in the middle of the night, continuing her cross-country hitchhiking. He could vividly imagine waking up to a cold, empty bed. He would run into the kitchen and find it empty, with Caitlin and her trusty pack already speeding away, passengers in some car like a '94 Plymouth Sundance that would soon succumb to cancer-like rust.
'I can't believe I may have fucked this up,' he thought angrily. 'What was I thinking?!' He thought about how Caitlin was so different from any other woman he had ever dated. Jack had been quite the womanizer in his youth. Well, actually, up until about six hours ago. Very few women earned more than three dates with him, unless it had turned into a 'friends with benefits' situation. And, of course, he was clear with all of these women that he was not looking for a monogamous relationship -- he only dated those who were okay with that. Once he hit his forties, he began to think that he would be one of those men who were permanent bachelors, too 'free' to ever settle down with the same woman year after year.
And, of course, all of these women had been...let's say, age-appropriate. He wondered if Caitlin was concerned that his feelings were mainly due to the fact that she was younger than him. He knew in his heart that even if Caitlin was forty-three, his feelings would be the same. But he could certainly see how difficult it would be for her to trust him about that. He considered this. 'I need to show her that my feelings are real. Actions speak louder than words, after all.'
Next to him, Caitlin was lost in her own thoughts. 'How can I find out whether my feelings are real?' she worried. Frustrated, she concentrated all of her attention on the sound of the raindrops striking the roof of the RV. Pushing all thoughts of Jack out of her mind, she focused on the sound of each individual drop, letting the spatter consume all of her senses.
*****
The next thing Caitlin knew, she was awakened by the golden rays of the sun peeking through the bedroom window. She sleepily opened one eye, then the other, taking a few minutes to orient herself. Hitchhiking across the country had its disadvantages, which included a few minutes necessary each morning in order to remind her of where she was. In a flood of images, the previous night came crashing back into her consciousness. She quickly rolled over and discovered Jack, still fast asleep.
She took the time to absorb every detail of his handsome face. She felt a sudden longing to see his baby blue eyes staring back at her, but she was reluctant to wake him before she was ready. She watched his bare chest rise and fall as he slept the deep sleep of the sexually satisfied. Leaning over, she dropped a feather soft kiss on his shoulder. He didn't even stir. She lay next to him for a few more minutes, watching him, studying him. Cautious, she leaned over again and brushed her lips over his shoulder again, lingering a bit longer this time. He still didn't stir. A naughty idea was beginning to form in her mind.
With aching slowness, she pulled the sheet down to Jack's thighs. He had put his boxers back on after making love last night. He still wasn't moving a muscle. Watching his face, little by little, she eased up onto her knees and straddled his sleeping form. She remained perfectly still for several minutes to ensure that he was still asleep. Not a twitch. Holding her breath, she reached for the waistband of his boxers, easing them down with a careful touch. She felt her face flush as his dick came into view. Glancing up at his face every few seconds, she lowered her head bit by bit until she was a few inches from him. Limp, his dick was about five inches long. She estimated that, with an erection, he would grow to just below eight inches. He was thick around, too, probably about two full inches in diameter. She wondered just how to give a blowjob.
Although Billy had violated her many times in that way, it had always been what she thought of as mouth fucking. He would rip the duct tape off and shove his stiff cock into her mouth quickly to muffle her cries, holding her head tightly and humping her face. Caitlin would simply hold her mouth open, squeeze her eyes shut, and try not to think about what was happening to her. This never seemed to bother Billy.
Of course, she had dated in college, though sparingly. But even with the boys she could tolerate, things never progressed to oral pleasure.
She decided to start with stroking him and see where things went from there. Spitting into her hand in a most unladylike fashion, she lifted his penis and began to rub up and down with gentle care. Within just a minute or two, he began to stiffen into a semi-erection. Deciding that this would be the best time to attempt taking him into her mouth, she ran her tongue over the head of his dick. Sneaking a peek up at his face to make sure that he was still sleeping, she took his head into her mouth, lowering her hand to the base of his cock. Warily, she took about three inches into her mouth. She wondered what to do with her tongue; it was kind of getting in the way. Settling on rubbing it back and forth on the underside of his cock, she began to bob her head up and down just a bit.
