All the Waters of the Earth

Chapter 26: A Lot of Good Things Get Created in Water

He stood in my bedroom doorway, still wet, shirtless, wrapped in a towel, as I retrieved a set of pajamas and underwear, also still dripping from the hot tub. I walked up to him, and he leaned down and kissed my nose.

"Grab your phone and charger in case Rob needs to call," he said.

I did, and gathered my purse as well, and walked out of my home, locked it, and went into his. This felt both normal and monumental. It felt like I had the freedom, for one night, to do what I wanted. As a parent, upon the birth of your child, you received a near-constant tightening in your gut that never really went away; you could never fully relax, because you knew that you were in charge of another person until they were an adult, if not longer. But for tonight, knowing that I had a night off, the clenching in my body loosened slightly, and that was a wonderful feeling.

Now, certainly, I was concerned that Carlos was going to pull some other shenanigans, but I knew, just knew, that he wouldn't hurt Rob, at least not physically. Carlos was selfish, and this could cause emotional hurt, but I hoped that it would be okay for tonight. After all, Carlos had issues with me, not with Rob. I hoped, at some level, that Carlos loved his son.

If I cared to admit it, there were also some deeper parenting questions presented by Rob visiting Carlos, which I really didn't feel like analyzing. Like, what would it be like for Rob to have a real relationship with Carlos? Was Carlos even capable of that? Did I want to give him a chance to develop a relationship with Rob? Certainly he didn't deserve it and I didn't want him to. Based on his history, it was a joke. But if he really wanted a relationship with his son, honestly and truly, then perhaps I shouldn't stand in the way. The thing was, I just knew he wasn't genuine. All this stuff was to get him out of paying child support so he could feed a gambling addiction. Right?

I didn't know, truthfully. I didn't want to think about these things right now. All I could say was that for tonight, I felt a sweet ease that I rarely felt, and I appreciated it.

When I stepped into Jake's home, I got suddenly shy. I barely spent any time here; most of the time he came to my home. But I loved being a part of his private world. I knew that he didn't show his artistic side to people at work, and it felt special to be let in, be privy to it.

I set my purse and keys on the counter, and plugged in my phone, turning to him. He tilted his head in a welcoming way, and suggested, "Let's get the chlorine off." Ooh. Bath time with Jake. Holding my hand, he walked down the hall, turning the lights off as we walked, and setting my pajamas in his room.

We stepped into his clean, but austere, bathroom, and slipped off our wet bathing suits, putting them in the sink. He turned on the shower to warm it up.

And then we were on each other again, but this time with more passion than the slow, sensual lovemaking in the hot tub.

No chance of anyone watching us this time, my hands grabbed his ass and pressed him to me, feeling his muscles, making him start to grow hard again. He reciprocated, taking his big hands up my belly to my breasts, covering one entirely with his hand, palming it, then running his long fingers over my nipples, fondling them, one, then the other.

So the thing about sex with Jake is that I got the idea that, while he was no perfect romance hero of my books, it was really freaking great to do it with him. He lavished attention on me, his artist's fingers playing my skin well, whether gentle, soft touches, or a fierce and fiery clasp. He also made sure that he attended to me, and for the most part, he communicated well, which was interesting, given our first terrible misunderstandings with each other. In bed, there was no door between us, no wall separating us, obviously, but also no metaphorical door or wall; he let me in. He asked me what I wanted and he gave it to me. And he let me know what he wanted. And this was all incredibly healthy.

It was also hot.

The shower warmed, we stepped in, the water a momentary shock to our systems, and we took turns lathering each other up, to wash off the chlorine from the hot tub. This was fun, running my soapy hands all over him, feeling his body, enjoying it as the shower sprayed into his chest, his upper back. Then, of course, the shower got more steamy, as I ran my soapy hands up and down his hard cock, and he reciprocated on my body, slipping first a finger between my legs, and then two.

"You're good for round two?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered, "you?"

I nodded. "Let's get out of the shower," I said, "there's a drought, you know."

"A lot of good things get created in water," he said. But still he turned off the shower, grabbed me a towel, and started drying me off. But then he got tired of drying me off, and hoisted me up, so that I was straddling him, carrying me to his bedroom.

So now we smelled the same, like clean shower, and were both warm and wet again. He laid me down gently on the bed, and then lowered his body on me, kissing me with the same passion that we had before we got blasted by the spray of the shower water. Then he rolled so that I was on top of him, straddling him, and he pulled my hips toward his head.

"What are you doing?" I gasped.

"This," he answered, and he wiggled under me and started licking my pussy in earnest.

Oh my.

I don't think I had ever done oral sex before in this position, basically sitting on his face, and it was really fucking hot. I reached behind me, and angled back, stroking his cock, as he licked and sucked my clit, using his hand to assist. He kept going, and going, and after an impossibly long time, I knew that I was going to come and I gulped, "Oh my loiuhggyrdd," and my body, tender from his ministrations in the shower, and primed from the hot tub, exploded again.

Straddling his face.

So naughty.

So hot.

When I came down, almost like a car mechanic, he pulled out from under me, and then flipped me on my back and in a second, he slid his cock into my primed pussy.

Now, at this moment, immediately post-orgasm, my body barely done shaking and shivering, I entered a place of kairos again. I lost all track of time, and I lost any rational thought. All I did was feel, and I felt the connection with Jake, both physical with his body, but also the way he looked me in the eyes as he thrust, willing me to accept him, to show me the parts of him that he didn't show to anyone else. It was also this period of synergy: being connected together, we were creating something new, bigger than us. Like his drawing or my writing, the creative process and sex were similar: the synergy of one person taking energy and applying it to something else and making something new. And without thinking, only feeling, I knew that we were creating something here, which was beautiful.

Looking at me the entire time, he thrust into me, repeatedly, until with a shuddering jerk, he rammed into me harder than he ever had before. It didn't hurt, it just felt like he meant it, like he released, with a groan, all of the tension in him. Collapsing on my body, he nuzzled my shoulder, kissing it.

After a moment, he lifted himself up onto his elbows, and then gently slid out of me. Then he padded down the hall, got more towels, and gave me one to finish drying off.

Then he tugged on his boxers, and I put on my pajamas, and I crawled into bed, sated, clean-smelling, and happy. He got in bed behind me, spooning me, kissing my shoulder, and I drifted into a restful sleep.