Chapter 15

The Other Side of the Coin

~GCS~

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw Kevin kneeling beside me. All I wanted was to be alone and, had I felt better, I would have been angry – not because he sought me out, but because I asked him to leave and he wouldn’t. I could only assume that Les had talked to him and that filled me with some resentment. I knew that there was no evil intent, but intentions didn’t interest me right now. I was sick. I was hurting. But it was important to me to be considered an asset and not a liability. I didn’t want to be labeled a weak and helpless female who was disabled by cramps. I knew that this wasn’t just a matter of usual female discomfort, but I doubted that any man would understand this, except maybe for Les, and I didn’t feel that I should have to explain or excuse myself.

Kevin was gentle but persistent. He made it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere which only increased my frustration. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d had a concentrated dose of Kevin Richardson over the last couple of weeks and, although I had judged him to be kind, fair and supremely logical most of the time, I also guessed that he was stubborn and egotistical enough to believe that he could fix anything – even a woman with endometriosis. I should have given him more credit.

By the time I felt him lift me, I was too weak to object very strongly. My fear was that he was going to try to carry me back to camp. I didn’t want that. It was too late to hide from Kevin but I didn’t feel I could take any curiosity from well-meaning do-gooders and I just didn’t want anyone else to see me like this. It wasn’t so much a case of vanity as it was pride. As I said before, I’d already spent most of my life being soooo nice, soooo accommodating and, more recently, soooo pitiful…. I was sick to death of it. I was sick of myself. The terrible tragedy we had suffered had provided me with one tiny benefit. Even though our time here was probably limited, and that was a good thing, for a short time I could sort of reinvent myself. I didn’t have to be a doormat and I didn’t want to be pitiful.

He asked me to trust him. I wanted to. I had to. When he sat us down in the water, I wondered if he had lost his mind. It was cold and I was vaguely aware that my clothing was doing nothing to hide my nakedness. I felt my skirt float away from my legs leaving me uncovered and vulnerable. The scarf I wore around my breasts became totally useless. It was no more than a thin square of cotton that I had salvaged from a torn and unclaimed shirt. When Kevin held me against his bare chest and began to rock, I could feel my hardened nipples pressing against his skin. I wonder if he noticed?

Then he said six words that I would replay over and over again in my mind.

“I need to touch you, Glynnis…”

Even now, I can hear him say those words. He was almost whispering, his voice was soft and low – almost a lover’s murmur, but he wasn’t making love to me. At least I don’t think he was. Sometimes, when I think back on it, I’m not so sure. The whole situation was so convoluted and strange that I think sometimes that lines were crossed. Maybe he was making love to me in some altruistic way. Maybe he was just trying to be a friend.

I suppose that in my heart of hearts, I understood what he meant when he said that he needed to ‘touch’ me. Still, when I felt his hand between my thighs, I froze like a schoolgirl. I hurt. I was confused. Then:

“You need to open your legs, darlin…”

He had asked me to trust him. In the midst of pain, confusion and fear, I had to make a decision. I could have stopped it. Kevin wouldn’t have physically forced himself on me, especially when I was so vulnerable. A large part of me wanted him to touch me – wanted him to do anything that might help me. But this?

There might be a way, baby….You’re gonna have to trust me. Okay?

Okay.

I relaxed my thighs and felt his hand slip between my legs. He never stopped rocking. He never stopped murmuring in my ear. He never stopped stroking… The pain was still there but it was being diluted just a little by a new physical distraction.

I could feel him getting closer and closer to my delta, trying to ease into intimacy and not attack it, trying to gain my trust with slow, tender touches. When I felt his fingertips brush against my folds, I tensed, not only from the physical sensation but from an unexpected emotional one. I had been trying to keep this whole scenario objective and non-personal but sexual responses are very personal to me. I felt very self-conscious because I knew that I would have never had a response at all if I had been with anyone other than Kevin. If I don’t care, I don’t respond. It’s that simple. Maybe it’s not like that for all women. Maybe it doesn’t matter to them who they’re with, just what that person is doing to them. It’s not like that for me.

I had grown accustomed to knowing when Kevin was watching me. He was watching me now, gauging my reactions to his touch, but I couldn’t look at him. I could barely think at all while this was happening. It’s only now – after the fact – that I’ve been able to dissect my feelings. When his fingers moved up to my clitoris, I think I actually trembled. He was so careful, so tender, so….good. I had gathered, by now, that his goal was to bring me to orgasm. I still wasn’t sure if that was possible. My uterus was fighting him and I was caught in the middle. Waves of pain still persisted, but so did Kevin. He would lighten his touch when the cramping set in but his fingers never left me.

Pain and pleasure made for a volatile combination. Remember that John Mellencamp song, ‘Hurts So Good’? That’s the only way I can describe what I was feeling by now. I couldn’t control my hips. I couldn’t control my moans of pleasure anymore than I could control my groans of pain. I was building towards release. I knew it and he knew it. I think he would have pushed me there if it had taken all day. It was then that I felt him press the flesh on either side of my tiny shaft, uncovering it further. A gentle flick, a series of tender strokes and touches, rhythmic and soft was sending me past the point of no return and when I reached the final door, he entered me with his longest finger, filling my emptiness while pressing and rotating his thumb on my fragile bead.

Dear God, I had never felt anything like that in my life. He kept moving inside me and against my tiny glans and I felt as if I was literally melting in his arms. I know that sounds cliché but I don’t know how else to describe the sensation. I don’t know how long that sweet fire burned but went it finally subsided, Kevin was still inside of me. I could feel my body tensing around his finger, clutching. He was still rocking, still whispering….

I don’t know how long I slept but when I opened my eyes, he was there. It was late afternoon now. I could tell from the way the sun was hanging the sky.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to face him, either, but he had been watching me. He knew I was awake.

“Do you feel better?”

I nodded feebly, not meeting his eyes.

“I think we’d better get back to camp…”

I nodded again.

“Do you think you can walk?”

Nod.

“Let me help you up.”

I was still a little weak in the knees, so we made our way back slowly. Kevin didn’t say anything during the trek. I think he was aware of my self-consciousness and didn’t want to comment or try to offer and explanations. He was probably hoping that I understood and I think I did. Still, as ‘impersonal’ as our contact was, it was still profoundly intimate. I know I’ll never forget it. Our connection had definitely shifted and our relationship had taken on a new color. Even if we chose to ignore or bury it, it was fact.

I didn’t want to love Kevin. Things were too crazy and surreal. This life we had all been forced to lead was not reality. I didn’t want to make too much of his tenderness but, if truth be told, I think I loved him long before he ever touched me.


Chapter 16

Awkward Moments

~KSR~

Well, she isn’t saying too much. Shit. You know what I mean… She’s trying to be casual and all but she’s not making much eye contact or anything.

I took her back to her hut yesterday and told her to lie down and that I’d bring her something to eat later. She looked at the ground, nodded and went inside. She was worn out. I felt pretty drained myself but I don’t know why.

So anyway, I go on down to the fire pit and a couple of people ask me where Gynnis is and I say she doesn’t feel too good and so she’s resting. Most people just nodded and went on. A few didn’t. I was getting some ‘looks’. Les was staring at me, eyebrows raised, like he wanted to ask me a question. AJ’s looking at me like he’s the one with the answer. I think he was trying not to cackle. Smart man…. Brian looks kinda pissed. So does Leighanne. Brad was glaring at me too. He looked strange. His eyes were narrowed but he seemed to be smirking. It’s hard to describe but it gave me the creeps. That guy was losin’ it.

So I squat next to Brian and try to make some casual conversation and he’s givin’ me grunts and one word responses. I finally asked him what crawled up his ass and died.

“You weren’t much help today, Kev. Decide to take a little break?”

Now this really hit me the wrong way considering I’d been working as hard as anybody. Then Leigh decides to add her two cents worth.

“Yeah, Kevin. You and Glynnis seemed to disappear today. Did you two have fun? Needed a little ‘private’ time, huh?”

Apparently, Glynnis and I had been ‘discussed’ and I resented it. I wasn’t about to defend myself or her to them so I stood up to leave with no comment. As I turned to leave, Brian whispered under his breath.

“Don’t forget, you happen to be married!” Goddamn, he could be such a sanctimonious little prick. Talk about people in glass houses! I loved him but he was in danger of crossing a major line with his judgments. He knew nothing about my marriage other than the fact that a wedding had taken place and that was enough for him. It was a black and white issue as far as he was concerned. For a moment, I wondered if he had ever felt the level of intimacy with Leighanne that I had just felt with Glynnis – an intimacy that didn’t involve tongues or penetration or groaning thrusts. I doubted it.

His admonition, “You happen to be married,” made no impression on me. He might just as well have said, “You happen to be from Kentucky” or “You happen to have black hair.” I wasn’t ‘married’ and hadn’t been for some time – at least emotionally. I’m trying to chalk Brian’s needling up to the fact that our lives had done a complete 180. We were trying to survive. We missed our families and worried about them. By now they had probably come to accept the fact that we were all dead. We wondered what the media said and if the people we loved were being hounded by the press and tabloid television. We could barely afford the luxury of being scared because we were working too hard just to live. Any sweet distraction was a gift.

Is that what Glynnis is? A distraction? I don’t think so. God, I hope not… In ancient times, I imagine that couplings had little to do with love and passion. They were practical. People had kids. Kids helped the family survive. It was just the way things were. Practical. My marriage had been practical. And empty. Long separations didn't matter. Kristin got financial security and a few connections. I got an aura of maturity and respectability. There was friendship and there was sex but I had other friends and I’d had other sexual partners. It just wasn’t as fuckin’ special as it should have been. Hard to explain. There was no real….joy. No solid satisfaction. I had every material advantage, but the houses, clothes, notoriety, fame, and all that, paled in comparison to the satisfaction I felt when that first seed popped through the dirt I had dug and watered. Sounds pretty sappy, right? I guess it is.

~~~~~

No one here really knew what anyone else was doing on a day to day basis but each person seemed to fall into a job of some sort. Brad and his crew were gone for long stretches, which was fine by me, but usually returned to camp with some sort of food they had hunted – sometimes pigs but more often birds and the occasional rabbit. And for every animal that Brad killed, a ‘souvenir’ was kept – a tooth, a claw or feather or beak – and added to the string around his neck. I’m guessing he probably has notches on his belt or bedpost for every female he conquered, as well.

All in all, things weren’t going too badly. Whining and petty arguments were pretty much ignored unless nerves were frayed and, even then, eruptions were brief. We all needed each other, or so we thought, even though the group had informally separated into two ‘tribes’. Brad had his followers, for sure. They stayed close to each other and somewhat distant. I didn’t think that much about it until Jamal and Malcolm came to me tonight and told me that a few supplies seemed to be missing. Nothing big. A few tools, some hemp and corn. Rifles were still accounted for. Still, it was a little disturbing.

Later, around the fire pit, Jamal mentioned this to the group, thinking that someone may jump up and say something like “Oh yeah, I needed to tie some shit together” or “I’ve been grinding some meal” but no one said a word.

*****

~GCS~

I’m trying desperately to be objective about Kevin had done to me…for me… but his tenderness towards me makes it difficult. I’m not sure what to think or how I should react or feel so I’m trying not to feel too much of anything.

When we returned to our little village, he walked me to my shelter and told me that I should rest. ‘I’ll bring you something to eat in a while’, he said. He stayed until I laid down, asked me if I was ‘alright’, nodded and left. He did bring me some food later but I pretended to be asleep. I heard him sigh, felt him cover me and then he went away. I wonder if he’s as confused as I am? Funny, I can’t imagine him being confused about anything. I’m probably making too much of all this.

I finally fell asleep but woke up sometime during the night. When I peeked outside, I saw that Kevin had fallen asleep out in the open, closer to the fire. Closer to me. His sleep seemed troubled. As I watched him, I began to hear groans and moans coming from somewhere in the camp. Someone was making love. A breeze had carried the sounds across the night air but I couldn’t tell where they were coming from. I tried not to listen but there was nothing else to hear other than the occasional popping of the fire. Even the birds were asleep.

It startled me when Kevin’s eyes flew open and I quietly moved myself back into the shadows of palm fronds so he couldn’t see me. He stared at the sky and I could tell he was listening, too. The sounds of passion were faint but unmistakable. As the moaning grew more intense, Kevin raised one knee, closed his eyes and reached down between his legs with a sigh. He didn’t move at all for several seconds then his eyes opened again and his head turned towards my enclosure. There was no way he could see me, yet I felt an actual heat from his gaze.

I’m not promiscuous. I don’t take sex casually and haven’t had many partners but I have to tell you, that as I watched him lying there, unsure whether his sighs and shifting were born of weariness or frustration, I had to literally fight the urge to go to him. I guess I was afraid and I’m not even sure of what. Visions of him naked under the waterfall filled my brain as tears filled my eyes. God, why was I such a wuss? Why was I so intimidated? Why couldn’t I just take things casually and be more assertive? I guess I was afraid of getting hurt, even though I was already hurting. But here, on this island, there would be no place for me to hide, no place to run to, no escape…

I laid in the darkness, feeling like one of those cartoon characters who argued with the angel that rested on one shoulder and the devil that rested on the other. Trouble is, they agreed with each other more than they disagreed. In fact, I think they were ganging up on me. Kevin and I needed each other right now. His needs were probably greater than mine and I didn’t think it was just a matter of being horny.

We all crave human touch. It’s a basic need. I had been touched and that’s a definite understatement. He had held me, rocked me, touched me. He needed some of that, too and I needed to be the one to give it to him. When I found myself reaching behind my back, loosening the flimsy cotton that covered my breasts, I felt a freedom that I hadn’t experienced in a long time. My personal ‘reinvention’ was evolving. I paused, drawing in a breath as I ran my fingers across my hardening nipples, wondering how they would feel pressing into the dark hairs that were scattered across his chest, wondering how they would feel in his mouth. Would he kiss them? Lick them? Bite? Suckle? Squeeze or pinch?

My eyes were cast downwards when I crawled to my threshold, half naked, breasts and belly bare. He said nothing. And when I finally summoned the courage to raise my eyes, I saw the reason for his silence. He had rolled onto his stomach and was asleep.




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