Memories of Eva: Black

I kiss the back of her head, kiss the mess of hair. "Nite. Nite. Eva.."

And we fall asleep. Little did I realize she would sleep in my bed for the next six months.

************

Afer awhile I actually felt that my little conversation with Paul had gone well, and after a few days thought it had even been necessary. The unspoken-ness of everything made all my contacts with him stilted and uncomfortable. I was imagining that through a proper venting of his old feelings, it could pass, pass into nothing the way it had for me. We could be 'friends.'

I was wrong.

I know he was being selfish, as I had been so many years before. I needed to vent then, and I 'used' him for that, somehow. It all got tangled, confused. I know. He wanted for some reason to know that 'I remembered.' That it happened. That it mattered to me. Ok. I can do that, it did happen. But things like this CAN seem like a dream, and sometimes we need to let them. Sometimes things happen that ARE dreams.

But......he continued to call, and I didn't know what to do. I did answer. I could see his phone number same as he saw mine. I could just let it ring.

But -- this became a game we played:

No matter what the conversation, he would bring it around to what I eventually called 'The Subject.' That is what I came to call it. As in, 'Oh no....NOT The Subject again.' Which was nothing more than me 'coming over some time,' us 'spending time together.' I got used to it, and let it roll around in our conversation. Like a wine you let swirl in your mouth, taste it, and then spit it out again.

Like all things, It became normal. And in a particularly piqued moment, I would let myself get wicked.

--

"So....what would you do IF I let you come over?"

"I ....."

"Haven't you thought about it? You haven't even thought about it, ah - I'm offended." Mockery in my voice.

"I've thought about it, but it all depends on.....you."

"Me? I see."

"Yes."

"But.....in your own mind. How do you see it?"

"I come in and sit down, and in my imagination. That's what you mean right?"

"So far, Yes."

"Well, uh, You let me undress you."

"Ha! That's it? I let you undress me."

"Well I....we talk."

"That's soooo cute. No transition, no conversations - just 'Here, come and undress me?'"

"Well, you said...."

"I know what I said. It's just ....You're funny. That's it? All this....."

"How do you imagine it?"

"How do I? I don't know. I might give you too much information." I poured myself a glass of wine, ouch.

Silence.

"Hmmmm. I think we have to at least have some wine first." I sipped. "Definitely some wine. I don't see you undressing me without wine, do you? You dirty old man. I would stand in front of you. Ask you to close your eyes. No....no, that's too, cliche....Maybe I would just undress right in front of you. Normal. Totally casual. Like I do when I get home in the evening before slipping into my robe. Pretend you aren't there. Would that be all right?"

"I can picture it. Yes."

"I'll bet it would. This something you want to do every day, or like just once?"

"I don't know. It's just, I've never seen you Eva."

"The hell. I know you Have."

"I mean.....we were in the dark."

"Or you were spying....Ha! You know what I'm doing?"

"What?"

"Touching myself. I'm just talking away about this, and now my hand is tucked in right between my legs. Without even thinking about it. You'd like to watch that I bet?."

"Your not dressed?"

"I said, I come home and change into my robe in the evening. Just......"

"Is it silk?"

"Hahahaha. Paul. I got to go. Nite Nite."

"Eva, I..."

Click.

--

***************

I talked to Eva, tried to listen. Her treks to my room in the middle of the night were becoming routine, and she seemed a bit happier. Smiling, playful even. I never said no, it was innocent.

----

Eva was laying on her back, the lights are out it is pitch black and I am turned toward her, can see only the barest shadow of her, can feel her warmth and she is talking about when she was in high school. "I was a math tutor this last year, I'm good in math, and there was this one guy who needed help. At least I think he did. But, he liked me."

"How did you know?"

Her eyes on me in the blackness. I could feel her turning, "I knew. I guess......The way he looked at me."

"You can't tell by that."

"Oh yeah, girls know."

I was somewhat embarrassed in that moment. I thought of how I looked at Eva, the evenings we spent......"Did he try to hold your hand?" And I reached out under the covers and took her hand, she let her hand wrap into my fingers.

"Yeah."

"Did you kiss, you know make out?"

"Naw, nothing really like that. You know what. Boys in high school are kind of dumb....no really dumb. Not real romantic at all. And I like romance." I felt her fingers running up the back of my hand, it was warm in our little cocoon. "That's my problem."

"That's not a problem. Who doesn't want that?"

"Mmmmm. I don't know....Boys."

I was running my hand up along her arm now stroking her lightly beneath the covers. I could feel her breath on my cheek. She was laying so close. Her head was turned to me and her one shoulder was tipping, but she was still laying on her back. Tonight she was wearing a white cotton T shirt, but the bottoms were still the silk. I touched the edge of her sleeve and said, "I like when you wear your silk."

"Mmmm, I got my silk bottoms on though. The top was dirty."

I lay my hand on her shoulder, held it there and then took my hand away, and thought to myself - was that an invitation to touch the silk bottoms? My heart began to pound, the softness of her skin, our warmth. I could feel myself harden. We had been sleeping in the same bed now for how long was it now? This little routine. We were in fact both alone. I lay there, and I admit I thought about it, but I let the moment pass.

She said nothing. Was she waiting? And I began simply to stroke her arm again.

"I don't know if I will meet any boy that will truly love me. Romance me." She was whispering this now, as if it were a secret.

"You don't know that. That is very unlikely."

"Mmmm. They say what you want to hear and then leave......No. Worse. Let me tell you about a boys' idea of romance. Math tutor boy, ok, I did date him for awhile. Oh, he's the one I did the picture of..."

My mind drifted to him, instantly remembering this would be the guy she gave a blowjob to. They never kissed?

"He was trying to get me to have sex with him." Her warm breath washing over me, this whispered story in the darkness. "He would talk about how many girls he slept with, how good he was. How no girl ever complained, how they always had such wonderful or-gasms." Giggles. "And this was like....supposed to somehow 'turn me on.'"

I brought my hand up onto her front now and began stroking her tummy, lightly so lightly. She took a breath in, and with trembling fingers I tipped the fabric of her top back and touched her bare skin. Felt the concave arc of her belly between her hips.

She turned herself into a ball just then, and giggling called out, "That tickles," and pulling away my hand dropped away.

"That, Paul, is a BOYS idea of romance. Pathetic. Anyways, so curious now I ask, so who are some of these girls you've slept with? Which took him totally by surprise......I was calling his bluff, see. I just loved the look on his face, it was like....."

And as she was talking I did it again, only this time she let me. Turning herself slightly further toward me and I stroked these little light circles around her belly, drawing a finger over her navel, and below into the space between her hips and tracing the line of her bottoms. Touching the silk now.

"So he gives me some names......" She starts laughing now, only this was over what she said. "Sara and...."

"Silk," I said.

"Huh. Oh. Yeah.....I said. Are you listening to me?"

Honestly I hadn't heard a thing she said. "Yeah."

She was moving away a bit again, saying, "What did I just say?"

"You said...." I paused and reaching out to her began to touch her some more beneath the covers, but she was covering my hands with hers now and pushing them down into the mattress.

"Uh uh.... not unless you can tell me what I was saying."

I turned toward her then, and pressing harder began rolling her onto her back, pressing my hands on her, planting my palm on her belly and then pushing up slightly beneath her top, lay my hand flat there just below her breasts. I could feel her heart beating, and lifting myself up on one elbow.

She was rolling back and forth, pushing back at me and in a hushed tone, squealing, "Stop! Stop it! Stop!" Grunting and pushing at me. "It tickles. It tickles. Ahhh. Ahhhh."

I was grazing the edges of her breasts now, the bare flesh just touching my finger tips. "I heard every word." I had also grown hard.

"You did not."

"You were talking about what shits boys are," and she lay her hand over mine right over her heart, over the silk fabric, my hand was planted right between her breasts. She was laughing now, "I always talk about that," and she began rolling to her side away from me. "I am always talking about that. Boys ARE shits. Besides, that's not what I said. So nope, don't touch me."

I paused, lifted up on one elbow. Was she pouting now? Or still playing?

I lay my hand on her back, "Don't. You know what, you're a shit."

I took my hand away, then did it again. "D-O-N-T!" She shook herself.

And again, and again. This little game continued. "Would you stop it!" She finally said exasperated. "All you want to do is touch me. You are always touching me."

"That's not true. But....I like holding you. I listen, better than you know. You were talking about that boy giving you a blowjob."

The room went still.

"I never did!" She sat up. "Where did you hear that?"

"You, you said it." I thought she had.

"No I didn't!"

I couldn't remember now. But, she had said it. I remembered. "Well, you did. Sometime. He's the one though right? You said something about how you never did anything with him, JUST a blowjob. You said that, to me, sometime."

"Not tonight. But, oh yeah."

She lay back down and I was turning to her again. Mind you this whole little game is happening in pitch blackness. "Let me ask you something, you say you didn't do anything with him. Not really. Dated him a little, never kissed, but a blowjob...... That's pretty intimate isn't it?"

Her voice went into a low whisper. "First, whatever we say here is between us. Ok. Promise."

I said, "Ok." She was letting me into her world, inside our little black cocoon.

"I don't want to hear anything from my mom or anything."

"No."

"Ok. All my friends. No, It's not a big deal. Not like kissing."

"It's more intimate than kissing, it is."

"It's.....it's like sucking on a finger. Boys like it, we do it. At parties even. Jerks them off and they can leave us alone. Everyone does it. Boys you would never think of kissing."

I was dumbstruck, never heard such a thing.

She lay herself down, pulling the covers back over herself. "Well you sort of listen," and she leaned in and gave me a short kiss on the lips, then lay back down and scootched herself back pushing into my broad chest, letting me wrap my arms around her. This was the signal for when we were to fall to sleep, only tonight I had grown hard, very hard. I guess I was one of those boys.

As she scooted back this time, I moved away. "Sorry," I said, thinking about the kiss she had just given me, and the new hierarchy of intimacy.

"For what?"

"For not listening."

"S'ok. You listen good 'nuf."

I folded my hands around her and pressed my flat hand back beneath her top again, she lay her hand over mine, holding me there. She jumped her bottom back a bit again, and my cock was pressing lightly against her backside. She has to have felt that, I tried to move again. She following and her movements seemed a little probing, sort of 'what's this?' and then an 'oh' and moving a little away again.

Truth. I wanted to cum, normally when I felt like this I could relieve myself. I was softly scritching my fingers over her tummy and I felt her press one of her legs between mine, my hard cock no longer an intruder.

"Feels nice. I'm warm tonight. Nite Paul."

And we lay like that, silent for quite a long time, just me drawing lazy circles on her abdomen, my cock laying along her backside.

**************

"You're doing it again!"

"What."

"Your not listening. Does my body distract you."

"No, a little. Maybe a little."

"Then don't touch me all the time. Listen for awhile, THEN maybe I'll let you touch me.

I took my hand away. "Ok."

"I have an opportunity to get a job. Only this is a sort of a weird job, it pays good. But I go to school in the Department, I need to know what you think."

"I'm listening." I can feel the warmth of her body nearby, and this is sort of hard right now because truth-be-told I do listen, and I do like the intimacy of the way we hold hands, and the way she let me run my hand along her arms. I like touching her as I listen. She touching me with her voice and me with my hands. I can still feel her breath on me, she is laying that close. She is wearing her silk tonight, a different outfit.

"But it's as a model. A figure model."

"Nude?"

"Hmm. Hmmm." Nervous giggles. "Oh God. I said no at first, but then I think about it. I said I was in the department, and they said that in the evening is when the opening is and that completely different people go to class than the day school. And....."

"So how do you feel about exposing yourself to a group of strangers?"

"I don't know. Sometimes it seems ok, and also exotic, free....." I am reaching my hand out and lay it on her hand, I just want to feel her for just a moment. She excuses the indiscretion.

"Well? Tell me."

"I think you should do what you want."

"You're no help. But, I think I'm going to take the job. It's $25 an hour."

I was picturing her naked standing, illuminated for all to see. Understand, I am an artist. That in this blackest of rooms I can't even see her eyes. She walks in here in the dark, knows her way. The light never comes on. She is gone before I get up. I curl my fingers into hers and squeeze, she letting me.

"Do it. You seem happier."

"Oh, It's still hard. I have hard days. I can get pretty depressed."

"You seem better."

"Yeah. Better I guess."

I lay my hand on her tummy again, lifting her top. "We still talking?"

She laughs, "Not so much."

"You said,"

"You just want my b-o-d-y."

"No I....." and she took my hand and pressed it into her tummy.

"S'ok. No I said," and I began to stroke her tummy in my broad circles, bushing with my fingers, up along her rib cage, down her arms. Stroking her with the back of my hand. She laying there arms out at her side, "Hmmm. It feels nice."

I continued, wondering.... Drawing my fingers along the line of her bottoms, and then back up over her navel. Her hair was touching my shoulder, she was just laying there arms at her side. Occasionally she would stroke the back of my arm with her hand, hold and follow the path of my fingers. "You touch so nice and soft. Romantic."

I liked the way she said that, and let my hand wander up the front of her top, beneath the fabric, opening my hand wide and letting the edges of my fingers brush into her breasts on either site. For a moment I held my hand right there, could feel her collar bone with my opened fingers, then curling my hand moved my open palm right over her breast, one then the other. I could feel her heart beating, the rise and fall of her breath. I breathed out, "This ok?"

"Mmmm. Their so small, I guess it doesn't really matter."

"Ok."

I loved the rationalization. Her breasts are small.....so it doesn't matter. I ran my fingers down her side and she brought her arms down over my hand and held it there, "Tickles," she said.

"Sorry."

"S'allright.....You say sorry a lot."

"I do."

"Yeah. You don't have to. You'll know when I'm mad. When to be sorry."

I laughed. "Ok."

She lay with her hands still at her side and then I said, "You know what my favorite part on a woman is?"

There was this pause, "What?"

"Guess."

"Ummmm, Breasts." My hands squeezing her breasts as she said that, and she giggles.

"Close, but no."

"Ummmmm......" and her voice was changing into a little squeak, "My, um......"

"No," anticipating what she was going to say, but sorry I did. I wished I had let her say it.

"I'll show you." I felt her stiffen. Not sure what I was up to.

I brought my hand down now to her bottoms and pushed them low, quite low, probably lower than I had to. One side of her bottoms were down near mid-thigh. She let me. I was laying my hand now right over her hip bone, bending my hand, letting my fingers tip right into her abdomen, right along the line where her leg runs from her crotch to the top her hipbone. There was a little concave line extending down. Hard and soft. I expected to touch a little downy pussy hair at my finger tips, and I even began to shift my fingers around a little, sort of checking.

"Can I ask you something?" As I stroked her there, holding my hand to her, my favorite place on a woman's body.

She was silent, her voice small, "Sure."

"Do you shave?"

"Shave?"

"Yeah, you know down there."

She giggled a little, "No. I don't grow very much though. You know what? Someone told me you can tell how much pussy hair a girl has by her eyebrows.If a girl has bushy eyebrows she has a big bushy pussy. I have almost no hair on my eyebrows."

I kept my hand right there.

She continued, "Check."

And in the silence, the darkness, I let my fingers trace the line of her mound between her legs, the rise of the bone there, tipping my fingers, so soft, so slow. Only the slightest hairs growing there, barely anything at all, downy soft, short hairs. They rose up from between her legs in this little line. There was a noticeable clump of hair, almost like a cowlick right above her little cunny. I let the hairs there press through my fingers. I could feel the dimple, the rise of each side of her pussy lips. I could feel her holding her legs tight together as I did this, hear her breathing.

"See?"

"You're right," I said.

My cock was so hard I could not stand it. I ached. I felt her move my hand away, and I let her. She tugged her bottoms back in place, turning herself away from me and scootching back, I wrapped my arms around her. She felt especially warm tonight. She pressed her bottom against my cock, knowing what it was, tipping one leg back between my legs. And I let her feel me, my hardness, didn't try to move away. I felt her waggle her hips a little and settle in, positioning me right at the crack of her ass. I wanted to hump into her, god I was so hungry just then, but did not move, if anything very little. The guise of getting comfortable I guess.

We lay silent a long time.

--

I heard her whisper, "Paul."

"Yes."

"You're still hard."

"Hmmm. It's ok. I can't help it."

"No. I mean, I can.....I'd be willing to, you know. No big deal."

I paused, my mind was spinning. I could feel my heart in my throat, I was trembling at the thought.

"We can't, your mom....."

"She turned herself around again and deftly lay her hand on my cock, curled her fingers around its tip through the fabric. "No one needs to know."

I was about to say no, I honestly was. But the warmth of her, her hand gripping my cock. I felt her slipping down, her head dipping beneath the covers and I lay my head back, closed my eyes. I felt her tugging at my boxers, and lifted my ass from the mattress. She slid them down just far enough, I could feel my cock release. There was a pause, just her beneath the covers. Before....