Page 32 of Baby Girl

But. Where’s the ‘but’? The however? This cannot be happening. He’s falling for me. Oh. My. God. Is he falling for me? Seriously?

“I have effortlessly floated through life while everyone else around me is frantically flapping their arms to keep their heads above water. I have never wanted much out of life, and never expected much. My lack of expectations has allowed me to live with minimal disappointments. I have always wanted to keep it that way. Kelli, I have no expectations of you, but I know this, when you’re gone, I miss you. I want you to come back. For the first time in my life, I know what it is like to have someone leave, and want to say, ‘no, wait, come back, I don’t want you to go’, he took another drink, and didn’t immediately speak.

I didn’t want to say a word. I wanted him to keep talking. I wanted to know everything he was thinking, had thought of previously, and may think of the future. I sat with my chin resting in my palms, and looked at him, trying not to smile.

“Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to think of someone - and smile; for no real reason. But, I sit and think of you, and I smile. If I am exercising, and I think of you, I smile. I walk through the grocery store, and have a recollection of something we have done, and I smile. I don’t sit here, now, and have any expectations of you staying forever. I don’t have thoughts of being married or anything like that, but I sure can’t fathom having a life without you in it. I guess that’s it. So, what are your thoughts?”

I sat for long moment and thought. I thought about what he had said. I thought about Columbia. I thought about my father, and what he would say about me being in an actual relationship with someone that was fifteen years older than me. I thought about kids, and the fact that I hated kids. I thought about Erik changing his mind, and tossing me aside after he got mad, or bored, or just decided enough was enough.

I thought about how he made me feel. I thought about living life without him. I thought about what I would feel like if he or I walked away from this.

“You scare me, Erik. Your willingness to toss me aside, your willingness to do without me at a moment’s notice, those things scare me. I wonder about your sincerity, long term, with this. I want, more than anyone, what you’re talking about, and I guess time will tell. I don’t feel like I can give you my all, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally, and then chance losing you. That, without a doubt, would crush me. I am just like you. I have never been in a real relationship. Not a loving, caring relationship - add to that that the fact that you’re dominant - and all I have experienced is one grain of sand from the beach of your sexual desires,” I stopped, thought of what to say, I didn’t want to make him mad, but I had so much to say..

“What you’re saying excites me and scares me both. I guess I feel the same way you do,” I looked up from my tea glass and batted my eye lashes.

“So, tell me about what else you’re going to do to me, sexually. I want to know,” I said, wanting to know the depth of the sexual portion of the relationship.

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Kelli. We are going to do things together, experience things together. We talked about this before. We will, at length, discuss the elements of this relationship from a sexual standpoint. What we agree on will be agreed upon. What we don’t agree on will be excluded from the options. It’s that simple,” he said as he tried to get the attention of the waitress.

Waiting and not knowing has never been a huge strength of mine. I liked knowing what was going on, or what might go on in my day to day activities. I have always been able to come to terms with the fact that life will bring me the unexpected or the unknown; it is part of living life. Simple things like this made me anxious. I wanted to know what we were going to do. We had been together, for the most part, for six weeks. He would probably just fuck me forever and never say anything if I didn’t bring it up.

“Well, I am ready. Let’s make a list,” I said as the waitress approached the table.

“Can I get a refill of water and a cup of coffee, please? Kelli do you need anything?” Erik asked.

“No, I am fine, thank you,” I responded.

He finished his water and set it at the edge of the table as the waitress walked away. A small plane flew over the runway very low and fast, and we both turned to see what was going on. Erik turned back around, and as he started rearranging his silverware, I asked him again.

“Let’s make a list, I am ready. Let’s talk about it,” I asked anxiously.

“Well, Kelli, this isn’t something that we just nonchalantly discuss. It’s something more intended to be a serious discussion, we will need to make notes of what we discuss, and make lists…it’s fairly complex,” he said, trying to dismiss the subject.

“Now, I want to do it now,” I said, again, anxiously. I moved forward in my chair, and reached out toward him with my right hand.

He reached toward me and touched my hand with his fingers, eventually clasping it between his fingers and thumb. He began to rub my palm with fingertips. I love it when he touches my hands.

“We can get a start, I suppose, but it’s just not that easy, baby girl. Let me ask you some quick questions, and you answer yes or no. We won’t go into detail now, just answer yes or no to the questions. Some of these things we have talked about before, some we haven’t. Let me see…” he let go of my hand, and touched his palms together as if he were praying. He opened his hands, revealed his face, and began to speak as he twirled his butter knife in between his fingers.

“Let say, for the sake of answering these questions, we will have four categories. Yes, maybe, soft limit, hard limit. Soft limits are not now, but maybe later you’ll consider it. Hard limit means you’ll never consider it. So, yes, maybe, no, and hell no. Understood?” he asked.

“I read, and I am aware of the soft and hard limits, yes. Let’s get on with this,” I said, trying to get him to get started.

“Anal?”

“Yes.”

“Bondage?”

“Yes.”

“Wearing a collar.”

“Yes. Are we going to go in alphabetical order?”

“You little smart-ass. No, I was just going from memory, and alphabetical order was easiest. Nipple clamps, clamps in general, and being beaten?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”