Sleeping Beauty

Author's Note: Sorry about the run-on chapters. I didn't notice until a reviewer pointed out that the end of Chapter 2 contains the beginning of Chapter 3. Totally my bad. I guess that's why you shouldn't drink and post, lol.

Anyway, here's the final installment. And, IMHO, I saved the best for last.

Peace, love and soul :)


Chapter 4

"What the fuck!" She leaped off the toilet and pressed herself against the back wall between the end of the bathtub and the sink, crossing her arms over her chest.

Daniel was nonplussed. "I told you. Are you gonna come out, now?"

She shook her head. "You're out of your mind."

"You wanna leave? Fine. You never wanna see me again? Great. You wanna sit in here and cry while I have to take a piss? Not gonna happen."

The tension from her face faded, and she visibly relaxed. "I was not crying."

"Sure, you weren't." He slipped an arm behind her and ushered her out the door. "And no peeking. I know how you chicks are." He closed the door after her.

"And how's that?" she wanted to know.

"You're all a bunch of Peeping Toms. Had this girl 'accidentally' walk in on me in elementary school. Second grade. Her name was Angela. Well, it was a one-person unisex bathroom, no stalls just a toilet."

"And she saw it," Mecca laughed. "Must have blown her eight-year-old little mind."

"I guess," he said. "When Valentine's Day rolled around, instead of giving me one of those little cards that come in packs of 18, 24, 32 or whatever, she got me a real one. With hearts and flowers and birds and shit."

"Did you try to feel her up?" she teased.

"She was eight, you sicko."

"So were you," she retorted.

"She was . . . not cute," he finally said. "Kids had a nickname for her."

Mecca huffed. "I'm sure it was really rude and demeaning."

"It was," he agreed. "If I'd had a brain in my head back then, I wouldn't have been such an ass to her."

"You probably broke her heart and turned her gay and shit."

"Actually, she, um, she came down with leukemia and died. That was the first time someone I knew had died."

"I'm sorry."

He shook himself off, flushed, and washed his hands. She took a step back as the door opened, and he rejoined her in his room. "Why? You didn't do it."

He walked back over to the bed, pulled the covers back, then laid down, tucking himself beneath the quilted comforter. "You're still naked."

She shrugged. "You were expecting me to leave, I guess?"

He shook his head. "I don't know what to expect from you. You're just . . . full of surprises."

"I, uh, I didn't mean to flip out on you like that. I'm sure it was completely out of right field, and I'm sorry. Tonight has just been . . . really weird for me, and of all the things I'd expect you to say, that wasn't one of them."

"You look cold," he said. "Come back to bed."

She shook her head, assuming this utterly demure posture in front of him, off to the left side of the bed. She crossed her arms in front of her, covering the dusky peaks of her breasts, while hiding her pubic triangle with the palms of both her hands. It accentuated the strength of her upper body, the roundness of her shoulders, the slant of her collarbone, the lean lines of her biceps, the ample cleavage of her chest. Then there was the outward flare of her hips, the thickness of her thighs, the tapering to her knees then the swell of her well-muscled calves. If every woman in the world was built like her, all laws prohibiting public nudity would be lifted.

"I feel like an ass," she said. "I feel like I have to explain myself."

Daniel shrugged. "Explain away."

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm not a real girly girl. I mean, the way I talk, the way I present myself, my attitude about sex . . . I mean, I guess that's why guys find me so easy to be around: I'm like one of them. But I'm not. I'm a chick. A heterosexual chick that likes heterosexual men."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"You know when you first meet someone, and you're just getting to know them, and there's this slim window of opportunity where your relationship could go either way. You could either be 'just friends' or maybe it could be something more?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I've had girl friends before."

"Ones that you would never fuck because they don't appeal to you in that way."

"Yeah."

"Girls with 'great personalities.'"

"Yeah."

"You remember what I looked like in school, right? The double chin, the clothes from KMart, the really, really thick glasses."

Daniel shrugged. "I know we were in home room together and stuff, but I, honestly, can't remember that much about you . . . Appearance-wise, anyway."

"Well, I had an exceptional personality. I was funny and witty, and crass and vulgar. I always knew the right thing to say. I never got in any trouble. I was just . . . If more people had gotten past the whole 'black' thing, I would've been really popular."

"I don't doubt it."

"But, anyway. I dressed kind of like a guy back then. I was into the whole grunge scene: Pearl Jam, Nirvana, Bush . . ."

"I remember those bands."

She smiled and nodded. "Anyway, there were a bunch of guys I got to hanging out with, and, being a heterosexual girl around a group of heterosexual guys. I got a crush on one of them and made the mistake of telling him."

"And what'd he do?" Daniel asked.

Mecca rolled her eyes. "He flipped out. He thought it was gross and wrong and . . . he didn't even think of me as a girl. Well, being an adolescent female, I took that kind of bad and . . . well . . . I gave up on men. I assumed that every man in the world was going to respond to me like he did, and I didn't wanna deal with it. I couldn't stop being me, you know. I couldn't wave a magic wand and turn into a cheerleading, cock-sucking, slut, so I kind of settled into this . . . inherently male way of thinking. You know, if he doesn't want me, fuck him. Plenty more where that came from.

"But, I got older, and my body changed, my style evolved, and I finally attracted some genuinely male attention . . . and any time they tried to treat me like a girl: lift 'heavy' things for me, hold open doors, pull out chairs, all that chivalry bullshit. I'd get kind of mad, and be like 'Thanks, but I could've done that myself.' So, I got labeled a bitch."

"Because you didn't want some guy sucking up to you to get in your pants."

"Exactly! I mean, I'm not an idiot. I know the only reason you walked across a crowded dance floor to talk to me is because you wanna fuck me. That doesn't make me mad, but just be honest about it. Don't lie to me and sweet talk me and try to sugar-coat shit. Just say what's on your mind: Mecca, I think you're hot, and I wanna fuck."

Daniel considered this. "So . . . if a guy doesn't come out and ask for it . . ."

"He either doesn't want it, or he's trying to play me for a fool, and I can clearly imagine him laughing while he's leaving cuz I finally gave him what he wanted."

He cleared his throat, a slight smile quirking the corners of his mouth. "I remember you coming into the shop once, a bit after I'd first opened, and you'd told me what you really wanted wasn't on any of the shelves."

Mecca shrugged. "It wasn't."

"Three years," he said. "You kept hanging around me for three years without . . . anything."

"No," she shook her head. "I had my hopes, my suspicions . . . your dad and Terri."

"So . . ." He knew she was trying to make some kind of point, but he wanted her to say it out plainly, so he didn't make any more verbal faux pas.

"I'm like a guy, Daniel. I don't like talking about my feelings and all that shit. And I don't wanna hear that I'm . . . pretty . . . or whatever. Even if you mean it," she looked up at him, then, looking him straight in the eye, "and I'm sure you do. It just . . . sets off the little warning bells in my head, and I'll wanna get as far away from you as possible."

"So . . . no 'I love yous.'"

Mecca laughed, again refusing to meet his gaze. "Unless you want me to puke."

"But I can say: Mecca, you've got me so hard, I wanna fuck you till you can't walk straight."

The girl nodded. "That is . . . acceptable."

"Can't say: you're beautiful inside and out and feel extremely blessed by the pleasure of your company, but I can say: come suck my cock and swallow my load, while I eat you out and lick your anus."

Mecca swallowed hard. "If that's what's on your mind."

"What if I . . . grabbed you around the waist, laid you across my knees, smacked that ass and fingered that pussy till you were nothing but a sobbing, quivering mass in my lap."

She had no verbal response for that one, merely parted her lips then wet them with the tip of her tongue.

He, himself, could feel his sleeping member return to full alertness. "Suck you like a cow, ride you like a horse, fuck you like a dog."

At that, the one hand covering her sex moved to finger her slit, while the other slid along her inner thigh.

"Don't you dare," he barked out.

Her hands immediately stilled.

"Bring yourself on over here."

Her breath came in pants and gasps, her chest heaving, a translucent line of moisture running down the inside of both thighs. "I don't think I can make it."

"Did I ask you to think?" he retorted. "I told you to bring yourself over here and get. In. This. Bed."

She bit her lower lip then ran her tongue over the minor wound. "What're you gonna do to me?"

He refused to play her little game. She'd woken the monster, now she'd have to lay him back to rest. "I'll give you till the count of three, Mecca."

Her breathing rate increased and he could smell the musky scent of her growing arousal. Her feet, however, remained stationary.

"If I have to get out of this bed, woman, and I have to chase after that fine ass of yours, I will take you where I fell you and fuck you within an inch of your life."

Mecca huffed lightly, an altogether erotic light glinting in her eyes. "I'm faster than you are."

"Maybe," he agreed, "but you don't really wanna run. You wanna come over here and lay down like a good girl, spread them legs and let me get in between him."

She, again, wet her lips, her entire body growing ripe with arousal before his very eyes. Her skin glowed, her lips reddened, her nipples extended, and she couldn't keep from rubbing her thighs together. "So you can fuck me with that big dick of yours? Shove that thick monster in my hot, little hole?"

It didn't even take three steps to reach her. He rotated his legs to the left edge of the bed, slid his ass to the edge, sprang to his feet, and knocked her to the ground.

"Daniel!" She scrambled to get away from him, but he held her tightly around the waist, flipping her onto her stomach.

"I warned you," he admonished, pulling her back flush against him, sliding his erection between her slick folds, fully coating his member in her abundant juices.

Mecca moaned, bucking against him.

"That's right," he breathed harshly against the side of her face. "Whose pussy is this?"

She slid herself up and down his body, grinding her rear into his heated groin.

He smacked her left ass cheek for not replying. "Think you can stand up there and tease me?" he asked. "Make me talk dirty to you while you play with yourself?" He smacked the cheek again, continuing to run his cock along her slick valley. "Whose. Pussy. Is. This?"

She let out a deep, guttural moan as she threw her head back, rubbing her left cheek against his right one.

He sent his right hand between her thighs to assault her center of pleasure, twisting the tiny nubbin between his thumb and forefinger. "Don't make me hurt you, Mecca." He kissed alongside her neck, suckling on her earlobe, then licking along her collarbone.

"Daniel . . ." she sighed.

"Daniel what?" he asked. He increased the pressure applied to her clit, forcefully rubbing it with his first, middle and ring fingers. "Whose pussy is it, Mecca? Who do you belong to? Who do you love?"

"You!" she cried out, a fresh gush of fluid coating his fingers.

He loosened his hold on her, scooted himself slightly back, wedged her thighs further apart, positioned himself at her entrance, then smoothly slid it home.

They both groaned in unison.

He'd never had a female in the raw. And the feeling of her hot, wet interior fully embracing his bare shaft was . . .

"I wanna come, Daniel. Please, help me come again."

"Bend over," he instructed.

She bent her back, placing her hands flat on the floor, her ass to his groin, his cock deeply buried in her scorching hot snatch. He gripped her hips, then began to move.

"Yeah," she called out. "Like that."

He had to concentrate this time. If he wasn't careful, he'd come too soon and ruin all their newly-discovered fun. "Say it again," he told her, sliding back and forth in her tight interior. "Tell me you love me."

"I . . . I can't . . ."

He increased his speed, increased his force. "You can," he insisted. "You will."

"Please!" she cried. "Daniel . . ."

"Say it, Mecca." He slowed his pace, but deepened the penetration, taking it all the way out, then shoving it completely back in. He covered her back with his chest, reaching beneath her to fondle one breast then the other. His tongue caressed her collarbone as his lips kissed her fevered fleshed. "Does it feel good?" he asked her. "Do you want me to make you come?"

She let out one, long sigh. "Yes, Daniel . . . Please, Daniel . . ."

"Has anyone ever fucked you like this?"

She pressed herself against him as his left hand rubbed slow circles over her clit.

"No, Daniel . . . Just you, Daniel . . ."

He, again, turned his attention to her left ear, licking along the outer shell, then pulling the lobe into his hot, humid mouth. "Do I make you feel good, Mecca? Does my cock feel good in your cunt?"

"Yes, Daniel . . . Very, Daniel . . ."

"Do you wanna make me happy, Mecca?"

She was getting close, now. He could feel the beginning of tiny fluttering all along her canal.

"Yes, Daniel . . . Please, Daniel . . ."

"Tell me again," he whispered. "Tell me, Mecca."

Her back arched upwards, then resumed its previous position.

He continued to kiss her, circling her clit as he pushed himself in deeper and deeper. "You're so . . . beautiful, Mecca . . . and you make me feel so good."

A contented sigh passed through her parted lips, something between a purr and a groan.

"We fit right together, and I . . . love when you say my name."

"Oh Daniel . . . Daniel . . ."

"I want you to come." He gave her right breast a particularly tight squeeze, then gave the nipple a tiny pinch between his thumb and index finger. He skin was so soft, so smooth. And the pebbled texture of her nipple, a pure delight to explore. "I want you to come, and I want you to love me."

Mecca groaned.

"Please, Mecca. Tell me."

"Daniel . . ."

He watched as her fingers flexed in the shag carpeting below them. "Please, Mecca. I can't keep doing this . . . if it doesn't mean anything."

"Everything," she sighed. "It means . . . everything."

He pulled himself away from her, again taking hold of her hips. He drew himself out, then shoved himself back in.

"Ohhhh . . ."

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate. Never again, he swore to himself. If she couldn't give him what he wanted. If she wasn't willing to please him the way he wanted to please her. If that word refused to come to her lips when she thought of him . . .

"Mecca . . . Dammit . . ." He held her perfectly still as he shot stream after stream of hot semen into her awaiting womb. Her body responded to his, clenching him tightly, massaging him gently, thoroughly draining him dry. He withdrew, and she collapsed to the floor in a sweaty, panting heap.

He turned away from her. "I don't wanna see you, any more."

"What?" she pushed her hair back from her face, staring at him, clearly distressed.

"You're not . . . who I hoped you were," he replied.

"Because I can't say it?" she asked.

"Won't say it?"

"So what?" she snapped. "It's just a word."

"My . . . Mom always said if you can't say what you feel, then you're probably not feeling anything at all."

"Well . . . my grandma words are meaningless without the actions to back them up. Anybody can say it," she claimed, "but how many of them actually mean it?"

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "If I can't say it to you, and you won't say it to me... What's the point of all this?"

Her eyes fell to the ground, her shoulders slumping. "Because I . . . like being around you. I mean three years, for Christ's sake. Isn't that worth something?"

Daniel frowned thoughtfully. "I think . . . you value your pride more than you value me."

Mecca laughed. "Fuck you, then. Wanna throw me out like trash cuz I can't do everything you want me to?" She pushed herself to her feet, then began wandering around the room gathering her things.

"Please, don't leave."

Mecca scoffed, temporarily. "I'm not perfect, Daniel. I'm not some fairy tale maiden you rescued from a tower or saved from a dragon or awoken from an enchanted slumber. I'm a real woman with real and real fears. You can't . . . snap your fingers and wish away 32 years of upbringing. That word has never come easy for me. With Allen I just . . . I had to say it. I was . . . sick with wanting him. I'd tried . . . seducing him, I guess, and when that didn't work . . . I . . . showed him my soul . . . and I guess he thought it was pretty repulsive."

He punched the mattress beneath him. "I. Am. Not. Him."

"You think I don't know that! Damn, c'mon! I would've given anything to have done with him what you let yourself do to me."

"What the fuck are you talking about? 'Let myself do to you?' I wanted to take you to bed, so I did."

"But I wanted you before you wanted me."

"So what!" He grabbed his boxers and shoved his legs through the appropriate holes. "Damn, you're moronic sometimes."

"Don't call me names."

"Then don't act like the names I cal you."

She rolled her eyes. "Fuck you." She, again, began rummaging for her clothing.

"Don't," he said. "Talk to me."

She continued to dig through the clutter on his floor. "I already did. Apparently, what I had to say wasn't good enough."

"But you're all I have."

She, again, stopped her search and stood up straight. "You're all I have, too."

"Then why . . ."

"I used to gamble a lot," she said. "No matter what the odds, I was willing to put everything I had on the line. When I won, I won big, and when I lost . . . Well, it took me a while to recuperate." She sighed, her head falling back, her eyes rolling back to the ceiling. "I can't do that anymore. I'm too old. Believe it or not, I really big plans for my life when I was younger. I wanted to go to school and get my Bachelor's and then a Master's. While I was studying for my Master's, I was going to meet my future husband, we were gonna fall . . . madly in love, and I'd be finished having all my kids by the time I was 30. We'd get a split level in the country. I'd teach at a moderate-sized university. We'd retire at 60, buy a Winnebago and drive across the States.

"Well, Daniel, I'm 32. I do have my Bachelor's and my Master's, but I'm not married; never even been asked. I'm a renter. I don't teach, and nothing living has ever passed through my womb."

He proffered her a reassuring smile. "You could still retire at 60, buy a Winnebago and drive across the States."

"With the gas prices as high as they are?" she laughed. "Fuck that."

They were both quiet.

"What if . . . what if I didn't let you 'seduce' me?" he asked. "Would you have just left and never brought it up again?"

She bit her lower lip, shaking her head. "No. I . . . eventually, I'd get to the point where I couldn't take it anymore, and I'd just have to . . . bet it all."

He lowered his eyes. "You've lost with me before, though. Before Mom died. You wanted me to teach you how to play pool. You spent your birthday alone in a bar."

"The big three-oh," she said with a watery smile. "Yeah. That pretty much sucked."

"I won't do that again, Mecca."

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm . . . not goin' anywhere, and, uh . . . eventually I think I can convince you to bet on me . . . again."

"Maybe," she shrugged.

"No. There is no 'maybe.' I either will or I won't."

Mecca laughed. "Star Wars philosophy."

"Actually, it's: 'Either do or do not. There is no try.'"

"So," he said, "come back to bed?"

She remained motionless. "I do care, you know. It's not as if I'm heartless or anything."

"I know."

"And you can never trust the things people say when they're in bed together. It's just bullshit, you know. Kind of one of those 'say anything' situations."

"I just wanna make it through the night," he said. "I'll take you anywhere you wanna go in the morning."

She shuffled her feet. "You don't . . . hate me, do you?"

"Not possible."

"I guess I'll stay, then. Just tonight." She dropped the few pieces of clothing she'd gathered and slid in beside him.

"Am I allowed to say it, though?"

She sighed, fully slumping against the pillow beneath her. "If you must."

He reached out and brushed back some of the fine hairs from her temple.

"You are so weird."

He shrugged, continuing to trace the contours of her face. "It's something you'll have to get used to."

She slapped his hand away, then curled into a tight ball, pulling the covers tightly around her. "And no more masturbating," she warned him. "At least not while I'm here."

He nodded his assent, and, again, she began to drift off. He, too, tried to settle down, rolling on to his back, staring up at the ceiling, giving her a quick glance then closing his eyes.

Eventually, he'd hear her say it again. He wouldn't try to force it out of her or coerce her or make up some gay ultimatum. As long as she wanted to stay, he'd happily have her, no matter what the conditions. But . . . he was certain now more than ever, she was his, and what sleeping beauty could resist her prince charming?