Page 43 of Baby Girl

I am willing to settle.

Settling equals love.

I don’t believe in love. Not between people that aren’t family. I believe that my father loves me. I believe that his mother and father loved him. But I do not believe that there are many people in this world that are actually in love. I believe that most people on this earth that are together have settled. Settled for something that is other than what is the most likely thing to make them as happy as they can be.

Erik makes me as happy as I have ever been. The things that he says, the way he touches me, how he treats me, and how I feel when I am full of his cock. I cannot imagine, for the life of me, another man having the ability to make me happier than Erik. The trick, regarding keeping Erik, or anyone like Erik, is continuing to give him a new sexual adventure every time he turns around.

Sex is the most important part of any relationship. It is the portion of a relationship that drives us. When the sex goes to hell, the relationship goes to hell. When a woman stops having sex with a man, there’s something wrong. There’s no longer affection. There’s no longer attraction. Bu something is definitely wrong.

When a man stops having sex with a woman, there’s something wrong. He’s either having sex with someone else or he’s getting ready to. There’s no longer an attraction, or he’s become sexually bored. Bread and butter sex is just that.

Bread and butter.

If we were able to survive on bread and butter, and I suppose to some extent we are, how many of us would be content with a bread and butter diet. Living a life that was otherwise perfect, with bread and butter as the only available food. Breakfast - bread and butter. Lunch - bread and butter. Dinner – bread and butter. Next day – bread and butter. Next year? Bread and fucking butter.

Or.

The same life that was otherwise perfect. Breakfast - yogurt, grapefruit and oatmeal. Lunch - turkey sandwich, Greek salad, and an orange. Dinner - grilled chicken, rice pilaf, and grilled vegetables. Next day – Bacon, eggs, Chinese stir fry, steak, sushi…

Which life would we choose?

Diversity. Diversity satisfies our ever changing minds. It allows us to become satisfied. To become content that we are receiving what it is that we want, or need – without life becoming stale, stagnant, and repetitive. It keeps life adventurous. The not knowing. Just like when we were children.

I wonder what’s for dinner?

When we were in school. What’s for lunch?

Being in a relationship and knowing what’s for sex is a recipe for disaster.

Diversity.

I had always obtained my diversity by being diverse with my partners. I ran from man to man to man, never getting attached to any one man - knowing that eventually, I would be bored with any one man that I settled for. Knowing this allowed me to be honest with myself, and as a result, I was never in an actual relationship. The sexual diversity came from having a different sexual partner at every turn in my life.

There is no such thing as love. There is sex, affection, and satisfaction. With those things comes pleasure.

Erik provides me with those things. All of them.

ERIK. “So, Heather was nice. I found her to be a genuinely good person, from what little we talked,” I said, hoping to get Kelli to talk a little about Heather.

“She is nice, that’s why we’re such good friends. You always talk like, well, listening to you talk is like reading a book. You’re so serious when you talk. Don’t get me wrong, I like it. I like it a lot, it’s a good quality,” Kelli responded.

Not quite what I was after.

“Bear said, excuse me, Teddy said that she was nice. I guess they’ve been out a few times. He hasn’t said a tremendous amount about it, but what little he did say, it sounds like they’re getting along well.”

“Why did you call him Bear? Is that a nick-name?”

“Yes. A club name. A nick-name. His name is Teddy. The name “Bear” was a nick-name for years. He is big, and looks like a teddy bear. A few years back, he accidentally knocked a bunch of bikes over at a bar, and he got a new nick-name, “Crash”. People that have known him for a long time, like me, sometimes call him Bear,” I explained as I folded the receipt from the coffee and placed it at the edge of the table.

“Why do you all have nick-names?” she asked.

“Well, most motorcycle clubs have nick-names for everyone. It’s easier that way. I suppose it started as a means of protecting people from anyone knowing their real names. If something happens and people are questioned, no one knows your name. There are guys that I have ridden with on and off for years that I still do not even know their real names,” I offered.

“If something happens? So do you guys break the law?”

I raised one eyebrow and looked at her, then took a slow exaggerated drink of my coffee, looking over the top of the cup at her as I did.

“Okay, sorry I asked. Club business is club business. I remember,” she said smiling.