~ Shades Of Grey ~
by
Jessica Damien
October, 2006
Simon was beginning to get used to this feeling of being weightless--this
drifting, bobbing, and blissfully relaxing sensation of being adrift on the open
seas. He felt a slight head rush on occasion, but nothing that upset his
normally skittish metabolism. Grateful that he could drift without having to
concentrate, he allowed his mind to skip quickly through his memories.
He
felt cold, as if a wayward draught was sneaking its way in under his blanket.
Still, it wasn’t uncomfortable enough to completely penetrate the pleasant
buzzing cloud that enveloped his mind. He dimly remembered being in hospital, so
perhaps he was drugged. That would explain his inability to think clearly, and
also his indifference toward his failure to remember what might have put him in
hospital in the first place.
He
could almost feel his lips smile as his memories shifted once again, focusing
his attention. Yes, this was easy; it was a memory he enjoyed, and as long as he
didn’t have to work hard to recall it, he’d gladly follow where his subconscious
was taking him. It was easier now to ignore the chill invading his body. All he
had to do was remember the party where he’d first met Cheryl...
He’d always loved parties. No matter what sort of
beginning a party might have, it always finished as something Simon wouldn’t
have wanted to miss. He couldn’t help it; he loved people. He loved being the
center of attention. He was aware of his own charm, but he was interested in
other people just enough that his ego didn’t put people off. It was something he
had always managed effortlessly. All the laughter, the good feelings... how can
anyone actually say they didn’t like parties?
And yet, when he’d first caught sight of her, he
knew intuitively that she was a woman who
really did not like parties. He
watched her from halfway across the room. Her smile was genuine, he was sure of
it, but somehow it seemed forced nonetheless. It seemed to him that she was
trying to hide what she really felt, and what she really felt was probably
discomfort. He slowly made his way across the room to blend into the small group
near her, to eavesdrop upon the chatter and learn what he could.
Her eyes met his a few times, and he was unable
to look away. He was aware, after she’d glanced at him a few times, that his
stare was making her uncomfortable, and still he couldn’t look away. It wasn’t
as if she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but he would never have
appreciated fashion-model sort of beauty anyway. Her beauty was something more
day-to-day, something he could stare at for hours, but not be intimidated by. He
admired her shiny reddish-brown hair, worn short enough not to have to bother
much, but long enough to avoid looking trendy. Her make-up was minimal, and on
her earlobes were small gold hoops. Only one earring per ear--refreshing. He’d
bet she didn’t have any tattoos, either.
A spark of something warm lit up her green eyes,
and she had dimples in her cheeks to go along with her smile. That smile seemed
to come easily to her, he thought; she probably spent most of her day pretending
to be happy. She was only about three inches shorter than his own six feet, and
he automatically checked to see how high her heels were. He smiled at seeing her
flats. Normally, the women he’d met who were that tall had a nasty habit of
stooping, but on eyeing her posture, he saw that she stood tall, with her
shoulders thrown back and her lovely little breasts proudly out in front. He
didn’t want her to close herself off to him before he’d even gotten a fighting
chance, so he forced himself to look away from her at last, giving her a chance
to recharge her defenses for his next look.
He continued taking inventory of everything he
could about her with quick side-glances; her creamy complexion, her bubbly
voice, her cologne. He shifted his weight to his left leg, so that as he moved
closer to her, she wouldn’t notice. Once he’d moved that one step closer, his
right leg took most of his weight again, preparing for his next shift. As one by
one, or two by two, the group’s citizens left to join other groups, Simon
maneuvered until he was at her side. She’d been aware of what he’d been up to,
he knew. As soon as he looked into her eyes again, she crossed her arms under
her breasts and smiled a polite, closed-mouth smile. Not a good sign.
But he smiled guilelessly into her eyes, not
caring if everything he felt and thought showed up in his eyes. He allowed his
smile to overtake him, showing off the crooked teeth he was normally shy about
displaying. He hadn’t said anything, but just kept smiling at her, unable to do
anything else. He joined her when she began to laugh softly, the spark showing
again in her eyes. Impulsively, he put an arm around her and pulled her close,
hugging her as if they’d known each other since childhood, but had gotten
separated somehow. He wasn’t really surprised that she returned the hug
unabashedly, although he was aware of how much she’d surprised herself.
He had taken her home from the party that night,
and though he’d stayed until two the next afternoon, it took three more months
of seeing her before they’d made love for the first time. By the second date,
Simon had known, without any doubt whatsoever, that this was the woman he’d been
born to love. She was his other half. He hadn’t minded in the least that it
would take her so much longer to realize it as well.
He’d moved in with her, sharing expenses and
basking in her love. He never tired of being with her, and loved it that she
never seemed to resent his being around. He was a violinist, and had an erratic
schedule. She was a nine-to-fiver, a counselor, working with children who were
having trouble in school, either due to behavior problems or learning
disabilities. Most of the time, she could leave her cares at the office, but on
those days when she felt as though none of her good intentions and concern made
any difference, he was there to keep her from sinking into the black well of
depression that would once have been a normal way of life for her.
Neither of them was in the habit of saying the
words, but Simon was sure she knew just how he felt about her. She made her
feelings known by nagging without nagging. When she complained that he was long
past due to see his barber, her fingers gently running through his hair made him
understand that she couldn’t care less how shaggy it was getting to be. She
teased him about his less-than-fashionable clothing, but he realized that she
only ever noticed what he was wearing when she began to pull those clothes off
him.
He’d tried teaching her to cook, but gave up any
serious instruction when he’d become aware that while he was stirring and
chopping, she was all but drooling, her eyes on his butt rather than on his
hands. He’d ask where she kept the purple tomatoes, or if she would grab the
hay-stuffed artichokes for him, just to see if she’d been paying any attention
to his words at all. When the blush of self-consciousness and
being-caught-not-listening came over her, he’d usually put aside the cooking pot
and carry her to their bedroom.
He’d made love to her several times before
becoming aware that she hadn’t ever had an orgasm in all that time. She’d
pretended to; he would have believed her forever if not for that memorable
night--the night something had changed between them. He never knew what it was
that had been different. But something had happened... something had... relaxed.
Relaxed? Maybe that was the wrong word. Something gave way; something had
yielded between them. Something he hadn’t even been aware of at first.
She’d begun moaning, sounding like an animal
getting ready to spring. It had been different from anything she’d done before,
and it had almost thrown him. But at the same time, she’d begun moving her hips
in a way she’d never done before. He’d immediately been carried along with her
on some mental and emotional wave. On one level, he was suddenly aware that he’d
known nothing about making love to a woman until that moment. On another level,
he heard his own fevered whispering, his encouragement to her, his begging her
not to stop, to keep moving just that way, to come with him... yes, let it go...
give it to him...
Oh, what it had felt like when her entire body
had seized up, had convulsed around him, pulling from him what he was giving so
freely.
Later, as they lay in bed still trying to catch
their breath, he’d realized that that was the first time he’d ever made a woman
come. All the others before Cheryl (and there really hadn’t been that many) had
been faking it. Even Cheryl had faked it. Why did women do that? Did they really
expect improvement when they allowed men to think everything was already
perfect?
It didn’t bother his ego as much as he would have
thought it might. Not after he’d felt Cheryl come. He’d smiled then, knowing
that he would spend the rest of his life trying to be the best lover Cheryl
could ever have had. He’d never give her reason to fake it again.
He
tamped down his instant irritation, shivering in the cold around him, as his
head swam giddily. It wasn’t yet nausea, but the light-headedness he was feeling
was threatening to move to his stomach. The sensation was just enough to pull
him from his warm and erotic memories and he groaned at the dull thudding in his
head.
He turned his head to the side, looking for the clock next to his bed. It wasn’t there. The room seemed awfully bright to be his own bedroom, and he remembered with a start that he was in strange surroundings. Hospital. He was in hospital; now he remembered. But what had brought him here? He tried to force his mind to the events most recent in his memory, but the blackness was coming and he gave up, relaxing into the void.