CHAPTER 125

Kevin separated the envelopes and flyers, leaving most of those addressed to Connie on the kitchen counter. The two anonymously sent letters, he tucked in with his mail and then retreated to his office-studio. Connie had been a little perturbed by the fact that she had made lunch for everyone and now Nick and AJ were gone. Adding insult to injury, Kevin had declined to eat as well, saying that he had no appetite, whereupon Connie pushed out an exaggerated sigh and dropped sandwich halves into the trash – one at a time for dramatic effect – before turning on her heel and stomping down the hallway to her office. The scene ended with the loud slam of her office door.

Her frustration seemed like such a minor thing to Kevin under the circumstances, that he felt no reaction to her complaint, valid as it may be. He would make it up to her later but, for now, he was glad that she had left. It would give him some time to re-read the letters privately and try to decide what to do. The motivation behind the writer’s smear campaign was abundantly clear – they wanted to tear Kevin and Connie apart. Although Kevin’s immediate reaction was that the letters came from Trevor, he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure of that. He couldn’t even be sure if the letters came from a man. When he forced himself to consider all of the possibilities, he realized that the letters could have been sent by someone from his own past, not hers. He also had to consider that the reason behind such ill will may not be due to the obvious – unrequited love – but to something as cold and practical as business and fan appeasement. In other words, money. The list of potential prospects seemed endless and even after all was said it done, the letters could just be the work of some anonymous basket case, unknown by either of them.

Kevin didn’t like feeling helpless but he had to face the fact that there was nothing he could really do without tipping his very personal hand. If he approached anyone with accusations, he could not only be thwarted with a simple denial but would disclose or confirm sensitive information, leaving himself vulnerable to tabloid speculation or worse, blackmail.

With a grunt of disgust, he unfolded the letter that had been forwarded to their home from the hotel and began to read. The words were becoming increasingly angry and vulgar.

What is he doing, Connie? Drugging you? I can’t believe that you’re still with him in spite of what I’ve told you and in spite of what you know in your own heart. You’re starting to look pathetic and desperate.

You saw the damned picture! What do you think happened later that evening? Do you think Kevin and his boyfriend just shook hands and said goodnight? Ass is ass to a man like that and nothing more. You’re a convenience that feeds his questionable macho ego.

Stop being such a stupid cunt.

Kevin closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. As mean as the letter was, the one that followed was worse. This person knew their address and had invaded their home.

Well, how utterly sweet! So you and Kevin have been shopping for your little house. Tell me Connie, does it have a picket fence and window boxes? I hear you have several bedrooms. Did Kevin decorate one for his male friends to stay in when he was in the mood for some dick?

How does it feel to be a beard? Could you go any lower, Connie? Is your self-worth so fucking low that you need to attach yourself to a mediocre, gay, pop warbler to feel important? I’ll have to find you both a housewarming gift. How about some towels marked ‘His’ and ‘His’?

Kevin didn’t even remember squeezing the letters together into a tight ball but when he regained his senses, he could only think of one thing to do. It wasn’t really a solution but more of a postponement. He would keep these letters from Connie. There was no reason for her to be victimized by their poison. At this point, there was no way he could protect himself but he did have the choice and power to protect her from this literary attack.

Despite the contents of the letters, the underlying reasons for keeping them from Connie was not selfish. They had already crossed the bi-sexuality bridge and Kevin had been blessed with the conviction that Connie loved him deeply and that his early explorations would not affect or change those feelings. That part of his life was over. He had finally fallen in love. While the letters themselves carried no physical threat, they could create a super sensitivity where none should exist. He didn’t want them to find themselves tip-toeing around each other and worrying that such nastiness was causing some emotional damage that they tried to hide from each other . No, the letters must be destroyed. There was no need for Connie to know that they ever existed.

Kevin’s eyes fell to a metal trashcan by the file cabinet. The trashcan was topped with a small shredder, a device that Kevin had determined long ago was a necessity. Years ago, in Florida, he had discovered that some overly enraptured fans had stolen his trashcans as they sat at the curb. Less than a month later, copies of his grocery list appeared on the internet. Since then, he had made sure that receipts, bills and letters were effectively destroyed. Personal privacy was very important to Kevin. Confiscation of his trash was definitely pushing the ‘need to know’ envelope.

A few minutes later, the letters lay in the bottom of the can, having been cut of hundreds of narrow strips, and Kevin raised a hopeless prayer that there would be no more of the mysterious and venomous mail.

*****

By evening, Connie’s pouting had subsided and she and Kevin were able to enjoy a simple supper at an out-of-the-way restaurant outside of LA. Kevin was uncharacteristically subdued but affectionate and attentive. He had even declined an invitation to a small party in Hollywood, preferring to spend a quiet evening alone with his lady. When they left the restaurant, they went to a small nightclub – also off the beaten path. The club was actually more like a bar but featured a live band instead of the requisite deejay. It wasn’t at all crowded and the patrons were a generally older than those who populated the hot club scene Kevin was used to, but it was exactly what he was looking for tonight. No one there seemed to recognize him. Music consisted of old standards with a few jazz numbers thrown into the mix, not that Connie would have known the difference. He pulled her onto the well-worn dance floor during the slower numbers, but he preferred to sit out the up tempo melodies in a high-backed booth where he would sip bourbon and listen to the music while Connie leaned against his shoulder, enjoying the light strokes of his fingertips against her bare arm. After a while, he felt her hand slide to the inside of his upper thigh and squeeze. He called for the check.

*****

A full moon hung in a cloudless sky, allowing Connie a clear vision of the man who ground himself against her, forcing her backside into wet, gritty sand that was compressed by the remnants of waves that lapped at her hips, ribs and shoulders. The deserted beach provided a sensual backdrop for their coupling, which grew in an intensity proportionate to the fear of possible discovery. As was often the case, Connie’s deafness only increased the acuteness of her remaining senses. She was aware of the coolness and rhythm of the water as it played against the heat and rhythm of Kevin’s relentless penetration. His hair, wet with sea water, framed his open eyes, dark as embers in the pale moonlight. Her nostrils and lungs filled with salt-laced ocean breezes.

These sensations were almost overcome by tactile stimulation – Kevin’s hands pinning her arms against the sand, the brush of his pubic hair against hers as his glans pressed against her cervix, the friction of their tightened nipples sliding across each other’s skin. Connie had started to float, despite Kevin’s weight against her body – or maybe because of it. She couldn’t see him now, although her eyes were open. As his hardness pressed and moved against her hardened pinpoint of pleasure, she began to struggle, trying to free herself from his grasp but Kevin tightened his hold on her.

Connie’s cries were downed by the sounds of pounding surf and Kevin knew that, in spite of Connie’s attempts to free herself, the release that she really sought was not in her arms but in her sex. He would give her what she wanted. He wanted it, too. He wanted it desperately. He wanted it now.

And he had it. As if by a sheer force of will, Kevin felt a churning in his testicles. He was coming…..coming…..

His mouth covered hers in these final moments and his tongue filled her throat, unconsciously mimicking the cadence of his thrusts. When her back arched in orgasm, she literally sucked the air from his lungs, creating a type of coital resuscitation that only increased the power and pleasure of his ejaculation. His hands came to her face, holding her steady as he groaned into her mouth and filled her with his seed.

They lay together for a long time after that, still connected. Connie’s contractions were ebbing but she could still feel her body squeezing Kevin’s softening manhood with a surprising force. He would moan against her neck with each tensing, reluctant to remove himself from the warmth and slickness of her vaginal cradle.

Finally, he rolled off of her but when she made a move to get up, he shook his head and pressed her shoulders back into the sand. She saw his mouth form the words, ‘Not yet…’

Connie lay still and waited. Soon, Kevin raised one arm and placed his fingers on her cheek. He looked into her face for several seconds. He didn’t speak. There was no smile. His expression was serious and bordered on demanding.

Then his eyes began to move down her body, stopping at her breasts. His fingertips followed, skimming across the surface of her skin until they reached a soft, cream-colored mound. There, he began to press his fingers into her flesh as if he were testing the resiliency of her swelling. After a moment, he moved his fingers to her nipple, lightly circling the circumference of the turgid bud with his middle finger. Connie sucked in her breath and watched Kevin release a slight smile at her reaction. Still, he didn’t look at her face but studied the motion of his own fingers on her body. Then she felt him press her nipple into the flesh of her breast as if he were trying to bury it. A soft moan vibrated across her throat and she saw Kevin murmur, “Yes….”.

His head moved as he began to study the lower part of her body. Connie could only see his profile now. She didn’t understand what he was doing. Another moment passed and she was aware of his knuckles moving across her diaphragm and down to her abdomen. He opened his hand and pressed down on her belly with his palm while the fingers of his other hand combed through the soft curls of her pubis, eliciting another involuntary moan. He nodded slightly, satisfied at her reaction to his touch.

When his finger moved again and brushed across the still-exposed surface of her tiny jewel, she gasped and instinctively reached down, joining her hands with his in an attempt to control his ministrations. This was not acceptable. Kevin frowned, clasped her wrists together in his strong grasp and removed her hands from her body, seemingly annoyed that she had interfered with his manipulation. She submitted to his demand and let him continue without interruption, wondering where this would end. She wouldn’t have to wonder very long.

Mere seconds passed before she felt him spread her legs, separate her labia and re-open her with his long, middle finger. Her eyes closed as she felt his fingertip pressing against the slick walls of her vagina, moving inside her as if he were searching for some hidden prize. Then she was empty. He had removed his finger from her.

When Connie’s eyes fluttered open, Kevin’s hand was in front of her face, his middle finger glistening with his own ejaculate.

“Open your mouth, Connie…”

Another command…. When her lips parted, Kevin put the cream-covered finger into her mouth and brushed it against her tongue. As his salty sweetness awakened her sense of taste, he smeared more of his warm semen across her swollen lips and then began to lean in close to her face. His intentions were clear. Kevin was going to kiss her – kiss her deeply and the realization surprised her.

“Most men would never do this. They would never even consider it,” she whispered with some trespidation.

His reply was short, solemn and to the point.

“Connie, my love… I’m not ‘most men'.”

Truer words were never spoken....

Chapter 126

Kevin was snoring when Connie slipped from their bed and headed for the shower. Her plane was leaving in two hours. When she returned to the bedroom, almost a half hour later, he hadn’t moved. Gingerly, she stepped over to the dresser, opened a drawer – hoping she was being quiet – and pulled out some undergarments. After another glance in Kevin’s direction, she dropped her towel and slipped into mocha-colored lace before leaning forward to apply a dab of gloss to her lips. As she smoothed the gloss with her finger, the mirror reflected movement behind her. Kevin was awake, staring at her and, from the looks of it, he was none too happy. Connie’s finger stopped mid-stroke as she spoke to the reflection.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Grumpy? Did I wake you up?”

Kevin’s frown became deeper. He kicked the covers from his naked body and raised himself up on his elbows, still glowering at her back. Connie did a quick double-take. Modesty was not one of Kevin’s strong points. She tried not to stare at Kevin’s exposed penis, which rested contentedly across his left thigh. At least something was contended. Kevin, quite obviously, was not. She made an attempt to lighten his mood.

“Looks like Mr. Wiggles is worn out,” she giggled into the mirror.

Kevin’s brows dipped. “Who the fuck is ‘Mr. Wiggles’?” he snarled back.

“You know…” Connie grinned, picking up her hairbrush. “…Mr. Wiggles…..” She illustrated by grabbing a tube of lipstick and wiggling it in front of her crotch.

Kevin’s eyes dropped to his groin. When he raised his head again, his eyes had narrowed into slits and his brows had furrowed even more. Connie hadn’t thought that was possible…

“Well, gee – thanks for the flattering comparison, Con!” Kevin spat.

Connie began to laugh. She couldn’t help herself. She didn’t know what was wrong with him this morning but this was ridiculous. Comparing Kevin’s manhood to a tube of lipstick would be like comparing a two by four to a toothpick. He knew it and he knew that she knew it.

“Honestly, Kevin! I wasn’t…”

“You call my dick, ‘Mr. Wiggles’?” he blurted in a disgusted tone. “’Mr. Wiggles’? Jesus, Connie! That sounds like a goddamn cartoon character or somethin’!”

Connie chewed at the inside of her mouth, trying to appear contrite. It was hard. This was getting funnier to her by the minute. Finally, she felt composed enough to turn and face her wounded lover.

“I’m sorry Kevin,” she murmurred, struggling to maintain a straight face. “What would you like for me to call it?” Her eyes began to water. She was losing the battle. She couldn’t help herself. “ Maybe the ‘Royal Rod of Love’ or ‘The Mighty Semen Demon’?”

“Kevin’s Dick’ will be fine!”, he snorted back, totally unamused.

“Okay,” Connie agreed, wiping an errant tear from her eye. “’Kevin’s Dick’ it is…”

Her gaze returned to the mirror and she began to apply a little blush to her cheeks. Glancing up, she saw that Kevin was now sitting on the edge of the bed, scratching himself and pouting. He was also staring at her ass. Whatever was bothering him had nothing to do with ‘Kevin’s Dick’. She gave him a minute, confident that he would define his displeasure eventually. He was a lousy sulker. She would give him one minute. He only needed twenty seconds….

“What in the hell are you wearing, anyway?” he huffed.

Connie pointed to a nearby chair where she had laid out her clothes. “Right there. Jeans and a sweater…”

As she watched, his mouth screwed itself into an impatient scowl. “I don’t mean that!” he barked. “What the hell do you have on now?”

Connie’s brows knitted together. He was sitting right there looking at her. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Uh…underwear?” she answered, uncapping her mascara.

His arrogant expression belied a sarcastic tone. “Oh, is that what it is? I thought maybe you were planning to layover in Vegas for a quick performance at a strip club….”

Connie lowered the wand and turned to him once again. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Now she was getting a little pissed….

“Nice mouth, Connie!”

“You seem to think it’s nice enough when it’s on ‘Kevin’s Dick’!” she shot back.

Kevin jumped up from the bed and shoved his hands onto his hips. “I can see your nipples!”

Connie met his pose, refusing to be sublimated. “That’s because I haven’t ‘adjusted’ yet!” she hissed. “Look! Now you see ‘em…” She bent slightly from the waist, dipped her hand into her bra and shifted her breasts inside the underwired cups. “…and now you don’t!” She now stood straight sticking her chest out at him, basking in the glow of victory.

Kevin crossed his arms and gave her a withering smirk. You little pipsqueak…. You’re not gonna get the better of me. To an onlooker, the standoff may have been reminiscent of the battle between David and Goliath, however this scene might be labeled ‘Little Spunky Redhead vs Big, Hairy Naked Man’.

“That’s good, Connie. Very clever. But tell me, how do you plan to ‘adjust’ those ass cheeks you got shinin’ out there?”

Aha… The nature of Kevin’s foul mood suddenly came into focus. The big lug was pissed off by her choice of underwear. Connie’s analytic mind searched its data banks, trying to determine why.

“It’s a thong Kevin…”

“I know what the fuck it is, Connie. I didn’t think it was a wedgie. What I wanna know is why your flyin’ to the East Coast wearin’ a goddamn, lacy, look at my ass baby, thong! Who’s gonna see it?”

Connie’s mouth dropped open. Kevin had finally lost his mind.

“Nobody’s gonna see it, you big oaf! Are you crazy? Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because that kind of underwear is provocative, that’s why! And I don’t know why the hell you would deliberately choose to wear one of those thong thingys if you didn’t want to….to….provocatate somebody! It can’t be because those g-strings are comfortable! And since I ain’t goin’ with you, I just can’t help but wonder who it is you might want to…to…”

“Provocatate?” Connie finished. “Jesus, Kevin. You’ve been hanging around Nick too long….”

“Don’t change the subject,” Kevin growled. “You know what the hell I mean…”

Connie looked at him long and hard. For a brief instant, she saw a shadow of frustration cross his eyes and, in that moment, she could see past his display of macho bravado. He was going to miss her. He didn’t want her to be away from him. He felt a little vulnerable and a tad jealous. He expected her to show a reluctance to leave and instead, she was hopping on a jumbo jet in a push-up bra and lace thong, leaving his world and re-entering her own. The last time she left she didn’t think she’d come back. He didn’t think so, either.

Mr. Wiggles’ master was in dire need of some major reassurance. Connie’s face softened as did her voice. She took a step forward and ran her fingers across the fine black hairs that covered his collarbone.

“Kevin, baby… The only reason I chose a thong this morning is because my jeans ride a little on the low side and my sweater barely meets the waistband. Regular panties would show. It’s really that simple.”

“Can’t you wear higher jeans?” Kevin pouted.

“My other jeans are packed up. Please don’t think that I have some kind of ulterior motive. You’re gonna hurt my feelings….” She sounded appropriately pitiful and could soon feel some of the tension beginning to leave his body. She took this as a positive sign and took his hands in hers, guided them around her waist and down until they rested on her bare buttocks. “This ass is totally yours…”

Kevin’s eyes close as his head dropped with a measure of relief. She could feel his hands moving on her backside in a figure eight pattern. “God, I do love your ass, Connie. It’s so smooth and soft…”

“After last night, it should be, babe. You completely exfoliated it pushing me into that sand….”

The memory made Kevin smile. “Damn, that was good, alright…”

“We’ll have to do it again.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise. Only next time I might exfoliate your ass…”

It wasn’t long before Kevin heard the blare of a horn outside. Connie’s taxi had arrived. It was time for her to go.

After a final wave, he returned to the house, which suddenly seemed way to big, and headed for his office. He needed a shower but first he wanted to write himself a note. On a writing tablet that carried the banner ‘Things To Do’, Kevin scribbled himself a note:

Buy Connie high waist jeans

The 'high' part was underscored.

A moment later he made an addition:

and a couple more of those thong thingys