Page 58 of Undefeated

His breathing became choppy and he closed his eyes. I felt myself begin to reach a climax I had no idea existed. As if my body was warning me, I tensed up and focused, squeezing his body against me.

“Kace,” he said.

Kaaaace,” he repeated slowly and softly.

“Do it,” I sighed.

I closed my eyes.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck…Ooooh fuuuuck,” I heard the words somehow escape my mouth.

I felt his cock swell and ejaculate as he groaned. At the same time - whatever was trapped inside of me released as if I had actually exploded - emotionally. I gasped for a breath. I felt myself running down my legs. I could not speak or think. Caught in that particular moment, I just blinked my eyes.

Finally, my eyes began to focus. When I looked into his eyes, I saw relief.

Not an orgasms worth, but a lifetime.

I leaned back into the wall, still incapable of speech. I took a slow breath and exhaled.

Ahhh. Basil.

I pushed his head back, and as I looked into his steel grey eyes, I leaned forward and softly kissed the most beautiful man in the world.

And finally, I was able to speak.

“I love you, too,” I said softly.

And I began to cry.

SHANE. In my experiences with life, I have often searched for something or someone to satisfy a void. When I do, I often settle for something substandard or second rate. I do so because I feel I must fill that void. When I do not look, or do not try to resolve a particular deficiency, I often stumble onto what it is that I actually need. Life tends to provide us with our most valuable assets when we least expect it or we’re not particularly looking.

In life, we need to pay the closest attention when we aren’t paying attention at all.

Life has a way of sneaking up on us.

This, in itself, is why I pay attention to all of the little details.

I don’t like surprises.

“So, you think you’re going to be alright, babe?” I asked as we turned the corner into the residential neighborhood.

“I think so, as long as you’re close by. You make me really feel comfortable. I don’t get excited anymore around you,” she giggled.

“Nervous?” I asked.

“Duh,” she said flatly.

“How long?” I asked.

“I don’t know for sure, I think it’s been ten years. I’m not really sure. I don’t remember. It’s been a long time. Since before I graduated high school, if I remember right,” she said.

Kace, no different than I, didn’t remember a tremendous amount of her childhood. Her memories - or lack of memories, lasted much later into her teens. I suppose her problems lasted longer as well. I didn’t remember my childhood because I was moved around and my father was gone. She didn’t remember because she had events or circumstances her mind chose to set aside.

Women like her, coming from the background she came from, tend to set aside memories associated with abuse. The funny thing about our mind is that it will often set aside e period of time – maybe a few years – to get rid of a few memories of particular events.

Kace hadn’t initially told me, but eventually she admitted that her father abused her mother physically. Her mother finally left her father after many years of being beaten. Kace, at the time, was about twelve. Being exposed to this abuse generally makes the children either totally opposed to abuse, or an abuser. It just depends on the person and how their mind processes it.

“By the GPS, we’re just a few blocks, you sure you’re alright?” I asked.