“Just woke up,” he replied, then he stood up and stretched. Reached over to the windows and pulled back the curtains. Sunlight spilled into the room.
“No, too early,” she moaned, and when he glanced at her, he saw that she was burrowing under her pillows. He laughed and crawled onto the bed, moving so he was hovering over her.
“Not too early. What time do you have to be at work?” he asked, pulling the pillows away. She blinked up at him.
“Oh yeah. Work.”
That earned her another laugh.
“You could play hookie, spend the day with me,” he suggested, lowering himself so he could kiss her chest.
“No, I can't do that, that wouldn't be right,” she replied. But her voice lacked conviction.
“Sure you can. You begged off sick last night – this will just make it more believable,” he pointed out.
“Hmmm. And what did you have in mind?” she asked, stretching underneath him.
“Several things.”
“Not winning me over,” she snorted.
“How about,” he began, rolling to lay on his side next to her, “I take you to lunch, then we go do some tourist shit, then we see if we can sneak in a quickie at the Colosseum.”
“You're trying to break my vagina, aren't you?”
“Wasn't my intention, but I could try. We'll get you a t-shirt made – 'I went to Rome, and all I got was my lousy vagina broken', sounds great.”
“Tal,” she wasn't laughing as she turned her head to look at him.
“Yes?” he responded, reaching out and brushing hair away from her forehead.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“What are you doing here? With me?” she asked.
I have the same question, Mrs. Rapaport.
“I thought I was trying to talk you into committing more acts of public indecency,” he joked.
“You could do that with anybody. I walked away, I was gone. You were off the hook. Why did you want more?” she pressed.
It was a great question. How was he supposed to answer? “You've got one of the most amazing pussies I've ever fucked” just didn't sound right. “I could learn to live to see you smile” also sounded wrong.
Both were correct.
“Because you're pretty,” he answered, keeping his voice soft. “And you smile at me. You're smart and funny. Because I kinda like you, Mischa.”
There. Sweet and simple. But she frowned at him.
“I like you, too, Tal, but I guess I'm just … confused. Are we going on a date today?” she kept questioning. He rolled his eyes.
“I don't think you can call it a date when one of us is married,” he pointed out. She pressed her hands over her face.
“God, don't say it out loud,” she groaned.
“I won't mention the M-word again. How about we don't give it a title, and just say it's two friends hitting the town,” he offered. She didn't move her hands, and a shaft of sunlight bounced off her diamond. He looked down at her wedding set. Frowned.
“Friends don't break each others vaginas,” she pointed out, her voice muffled by her palms. Tal began pulling at her fingers.
“Well, I'm a really good friend. You should thank me. With your vagina,” he encouraged her. She moved her hands away and started pushing back the covers.
“I don't thank my friends with my vagina. At least not usually.”
“What a waste of a vagina.”
“Can we stop saying 'vagina'?”
“What a waste of a pussy.”
Misch finally laughed as she padded into the bathroom. She stood in front of the sink and stretched, raising her arms above her head. The hem of her t-shirt lifted, revealing her bare ass. Tal cocked up an eyebrow, then followed her into the small room.
“No, no, no, you go wait out there,” she instructed, turning and pushing at his chest. He grabbed her hand and something bit into his palm. When he let her go, he saw that it was the rings.
“One rule for today,” he started, raising her hand towards his face.
“What's that?” she asked, following his movements with her eyes.
“Today, you don't wear these,” he informed her, then he wrapped his lips around her ring finger, all the way at the base. He laved the cool gold with his tongue, then used his teeth to drag the set over her knuckle. When he pulled them free from her finger, he stuck out his tongue, showing her the rings before he dropped them into his own hand.
“Okay,” she whispered. He smirked and leaned down to her.
“Today, you're mine.”
~Mischa~
When something feels so good, you find a way to convince yourself that it's okay. Over-eaters and drug addicts know what I'm talking about. You make excuses, you claim it's because you're weak, a million things.
For me, it was the feels. Sure, I felt bad afterwards. But I felt so good during, that I couldn't stop. I couldn't back down. I couldn't back away.
And even if I wanted to, I wasn't allowed to. He couldn't back away, either.
I had planned on cheating on my husband.
I had never planned on having an affair.
Tal paid no attention to plans. Plans didn't exist in his world. He colored outside the lines, and he dragged me with him. Handed me a brush and said, “here, paint me as you like.”
I wanted to paint him with my aura, stain him with my shades.