The Court is Settled? Part 12

[moanalo]

...A Continuation of ‘On The Court’...

The Court is Settled? Part 12

by moanalo


~~~~ The Day After the Match ~~~~

I am laying on my bed fully dressed, just staring at the ceiling watching
the overhead fan slowly spin. I stretch out tying to reach for the four
corners of the mattress, the stretching feels good although I am in a lot
of discomfort. I intended to stay like this all day because my body hurts
so much, I need to rest. Getting dressed was a painful effort. But I can’t
stay like this, resting that is, because I have a visitor coming over. That
is why I am dressed and not sleeping in bed, recovering like I want to.

A lot of Tylenol and Motrin seems to ease my suffering, some. The pain is
beginning to dull, but mentally I am still badly shaken by yesterday’s
fight. The visitor in question? Monique, of course. Who else would it be.
The woman can’t seem to leave me alone. She texted me very early asking if
she could come over to ‘settle up’ regarding the video. Whatever the fuck
that means. At this point, I no longer really care about the damn video, or
what she meant by the ’settle up’ text.
‘Sure’ is all I responded.
Again, why can’t she just leave me the fuck alone?
A strange part of me doesn’t want her to leave me alone, admitting that,
even for a second makes me feel some amount of deep sorrow. How odd.

My brain is switching off and I am about to drift off to sleep when the
knock at the door jolts me awake. “Damn it! Where does the time go?”

“Oh Lord.” I moan trying to sit-up, the pain as I start moving is unreal.
‘Is this how old people feel?’

From the second I open the door a somber mood descends, coming from both of
us. Almost like someone has died? Very strange. I can’t figure all of this
out and I don’t want to. I am afraid to.

I step back to let her in while we avoid one another’s gaze. Truly, we
actually avoid looking at one another, I did not expect this sudden
awkwardness. Monique’s depressed state I initially chalk up to her being on
the losing end of our match. And well, I guess we both feel like shit from
beating the crap out of each other. If these are the results of our ‘so
called’ wrestling match, I hate to consider the outcome of a ‘real fight’
between us. Probably both of us in the Hospital?

I try to force myself to walk without a limp, but not entirely successful.
She has a noticeable limp as well, so good, we are equal. Well, not good,
but just some juvenile tit-for-tat attitude on my part. I take a seat back
in my chair, at my desk, but have to brace my arms against the armrests
because my legs hurt so bad, scratch that, everything hurts so bad. She
remains standing with a backpack in her left hand, hanging by her side, not
sure what that backpack is all about.
We did not prearrange our attire, but it was almost identical. Faded jeans
and tee shirts. Clearly showing our athletic bodies. Being that our legs
are very muscular, the jeans are tight, and our faded tee-shirts clearly
show off our toned upper bodies, and our ample breasts. She is not wearing
a bra, but neither am I, our painfully firm nipples make that evident
enough. But the reason for a lack of bra has everything to do with extreme
soreness in our breasts from yesterday's tangle. At least that is my reason
for no bra, but I would wager money it is also 'her reason' as well.

But lets not get into that too much right now, looking and admiring our
sexy bodies is not even a serious consideration right now. At least not
when you feel like crap.

When I force myself to look up, the signs are evident of pronounced
swelling on parts of Monique’s face, and a couple of cuts on her lips. My
face has some swelling as well, and a cut-or-two on my lips. Nothing
severe, but smiling or laughing, or anything similar would open up the cut
and bleed some. Our staring doesn’t last long, she looks back down at the
ground, as if she is uncomfortable being here and at a loss of words. Which
is a first for Monique. I proceed to rub my palms nervously over the tops
of my jeans. When she still seems lost in a daze I decide to speak up...

“Let’s sit over by the window. Do you want some water?”

“Yes, some water, thank you.” Monique says in a very monotone voice, that
is almost soft. The striking thing? What is missing; No attitude...no
immediate mention of yesterday, or the outcome of the fight. Just this
weird, uneasy, awkwardness. There is even a level of politeness between us.
I did not know what to make of any of this.

With a glass of ice water in each hand I go to place them on the table top,
and then pause. I quickly return to the kitchen, get the coasters, place
the coasters on the table, then return with the glasses. I don’t want rings
of water on the clean glass table. Monique is quietly watching this with a
strange sense of...uhm...amusement? Well whatever, I have rituals that must
be performed. Now I can sit down. It is a small sofa that can comfortably
seat two, she sat down on my right and places the backpack on the ground.
She takes several gulps of water while I play with the water sweating from
my own glass. See? Potential water stains! Thank God for coasters.

Very deftly she fishes out a laptop and places it on the table.

The not talking and the lack of eye contact is making this entire moment
very odd, and I am getting freaked out a little. Like we have never met
before and have zero history between us. Monique then reaches into a side
pocket of her bag and pulls out some chapstick, “Sorry, my lips hurt.”

“It’s fine.” No, everything is not fine. My voice seems lost and comes out
only in a whisper, I keep looking down at my lap, my palms face down on my
knees. And now I am starting to feel very nervous indeed. I am not sure
what is going on with me. I tilt my head up and face out into the small
room, but my eyes pivot to my right, to look to the side. I do this so I
can watch her rub the stick lightly over her bruised lips. My heart and
chest swell. My reaction is not appropriate! And I look straight ahead
again.

Right before she was ready to put the cap back on, she pauses, and made the
faintest of gestures, “Would you like some?”

I never even hesitate! My right hand moves, as if controlled by some
foreign entity, “Thank you.” I squeak out. Gently I touch the tube above
her fingers and then bring it over to my lips. It felt so good on my lips,
‘vanilla frosting’ flavor, my favorite. “Thank you again.” I hand it back
to her. We careful avoid touching each other’s hands.

Now she gets down to business. Thank God. Let’s get this over with. I take
a deep breath and try to relax, just focus on being the neutral observer.
Except for typing in my wi-fi password, I just sit in silence. She then
double clicks on an icon which went into her Google Drive, she logs in,
pulls out her cell phone for a 2-factor authentication code. Still, I am
just trying to watch as some neutral party here, afraid to say or do
anything. My brain feels like it is spinning, and now wobbling. I have to
scratch my nose but I don’t even want to do that!

Monique sits back, straightens-up and places her hands on her knees, and
then takes a deep breath. She seems almost ready to speak but then swallows
hard and her eyes get a little glassy. Uh-Oh...what is coming now? Her
long, sexy neck, with those strong muscles, they tense and flex, she
appears to have to force herself to turn and look at me. I too have to
force myself to look into her dark brown eyes, waiting.

“You won fair and square. You are the...” She clears her throat, “...the
better, stronger woman.”

My eyes dart off back into the empty room, not really processing what she
just said. Not feeling comfortable for some reason. I stiffen a little.
“Thank you...” I suddenly feel embarrassed, “...for saying that.” I quickly
glance back at her and blush. We both look away again. More awkwardness
ensues. Hands rubbing over jeans, and my fingers scratching at my knees.

I so badly want to tell her how I don’t feel like the stronger, better
woman. As far as I am concerned, she is still this amazing powerhouse of
female strength...but that...that might appear, weak? And something tells
me it would be an insult to Monique to appear weak. Does that make sense?

Back down to business. She reaches down and angles the laptop toward me and
points at the screen, “There is the file, just right click and delete it.”
Monique doesn’t look at me, just gestures toward the laptop. I sat staring
for a moment. Maybe this is her way of showing me, proving, that the video
is actually deleted? All this formality over some stupid video? Seems so
strange now. No matter, I lean over and delete it.

“Now, go over here, and click on that ‘Trash’ folder. The file is there,
you will need to delete it again and confirm you want to permanently delete
it.”

For some reason I hesitate and she notices this. But I eventually lean
forward and permanently delete it. “They say, once it’s on the internet,
it’s there forever.” My attempt at humor. But neither of us laugh.

“Thats what they say.” She says in similar serious tone.

I lean back, still sitting up straight. “Do you have a copy saved somewhere
else on your laptop?” I ask while looking straight ahead, still afraid to
directly engage her in anyway. Monique hesitates and then I glance over.
She remains staring down but at nothing in particular. From the side view I
get a good view of her strong model like features, perfectly straight nose
and chin. Many people would not expect a black person with such dark
complexion to have such a straight angular nose. Maybe that is racist to
say?

“Yeah.” She softly says and leans forward, her fingers moving toward the
keyboard.

“You don’t have to delete it, if you don’t want.” I nervously rub my hands
over my jeans again, I need to stop doing that. “Just, you know, keep it to
yourself.” I am watching more closely now, peering up at her, Monique
reaches for her glass to take another sip. Gently placing it on the table.

“Do you have a copy saved?” She asks me, never looking at me.

I blush and look down, give a shrug. “Yeah, just wanted to make sure it was
the entire video. I don’t know why.” I stop talking, that excuse sounds
stupid. I clench my fists nervously instead of rubbing them on my jeans.

She closes the laptop and the silence grips us again, slowly picking it up
off the table and slides it into her backpack. "Goodbye Annika, I'll leave
you alone, like I promised."

Truly, the finality of that comment jolts me. "No," I blurt out and glance
over. And why would I put that out there? After everything she has put me
through? "I..." Stuttering now, "...I mean, it doesn't have to be that
way." My heart is racing harder although I sit here perfectly still.

She froze, like in mid-thought, now moving into deep thought. Monique's
fingers still gripping the zipper on her backpack where she was closing it.

Me? I am just sitting here, watching her, but ready to glance away if I
think she would look over. Can't let her catch me staring. She looks over
but I don't glance away, it is the tears in her eyes and the softness in
her expression that keeps me looking.

"You mean that?"

Now I look away, back out into the empty room. And simply nod my head 'Yes'
while staring at nothing in particular.

That odd sensation, it feels like we are strangers meeting for the first
time. Awkward in so many ways, but we know one another so intimately. But
that familiarity only comes out during some very bad, hostile encounters? I
try to keep sitting very still, hands-on my knees and my back upright, I
feel like if I move I might break into a million pieces. Mentally and
Physically I wasn’t sure what is happening. But for the first time I would
prefer us fighting out our issues then this calm sense of bizarre
politeness. I can not stand this!

“Annika,” That’s my name. But when Monique says it, which she rarely does
(it is usually ‘hey girl’, ‘hey woman’, ‘hey you’, or ‘hey bitch’) it means
something more and grabs my attention. Her voice wavers and she seems
almost emotional.

“Yes?” I very cautiously glance over, looking concerned, but trying to keep
my own emotions in check. Why? What is going on now? Why am I so tense?

“I need to tell you something, but I can’t say it out loud, can I whisper
it to you. I know that sounds silly, but I think it would be better.”

My heart begins thumping again and my head makes a small jerking motion
up-and-down and I can only breathe a response of “Yes.” When she leans over
toward my right ear her left knee touches mine and my body went rigid with
stress. My right hand, shaking, comes up and pushes my long blonde hair
over my right ear. Her warm breath exhales into my ear canal causing the
hairs to stand up all over my neck, and into my scalp. She pauses for a few
seconds. The heat of her mouth near my ear causes my throat to swell and my
heart to pound even harder. I am shocked when she pulls away without saying
a word. Confused by this, I turn my face towards her, but before she fully
pulls away, she tilts her head and her lips touch mine.

‘Oh...My...God.’

Her lower lip, moist from chapstick, easily parts my lips and brushes
against my teeth. The fleshy underside of her upper lip is resting on top
of my upper lip, and that is the way we stay. I certainly was not going to
move, I am too afraid. Monique didn’t move either, it was as if someone
said ‘freeze’, and we do. With our lips touching, pressing, and then the
warm exhale of air from her nose, it is making me swoon with delightful
feelings. My throat and chest feel hot with emotion and I also exhale. Some
unspoken signal occurs, mutual consent, and we both make only a faint
adjustment. Our lips want to remain resting against one another, any
movement and the moment would vanish. Tilting our chins upward for just a
little more pressure, but trying to remain as still as possible. I find
myself trembling a little, I am scared, while my whole world is going
‘tilt’.

When I pucker my lips...or maybe she did first? Either way, our lips slowly
move in unison, as if they want to begin gently massaging one another. This
is blowing my mind apart! My body is flushing with racing blood, my crotch
feels like a raging inferno, and my nipples are so hard. The added effects
of our lips being cut and bruised, and of course the chapstick, makes
feeling all the more intense and sensual!

She pulls away first, there is some stickiness and our full lips resist the
parting. We are both visibly shaking a little and our eyes nervously study
one another. Does she want to kiss me again? I want her too. Our faces
hover close and our eyes flutter as if we might. We didn’t even use our
tongues, Oh God, what would that feel like? Just our lips touching has me
burning up.

“I’m sorry.” Monique suddenly leans back and looks away embarrassed, even
upset.

“Don’t be.” I answer supportively. I am not going to lie and say that it
was unpleasant. But I am thoroughly confused, my mind a tumbling wheel that
is rolling away, out of control. I reach down and grab my glass of water,
taking a long sip before placing it back down.

“Was that okay to do?” Monique asks in a voice that was almost pleading,
her face looking down at her lap in doubt.

“Yes.” No hesitation in my response, my head nodding up-and-down. My body
is still overheating. My hands are clutching together, the sweat is
dripping under my arms.

“What did you want to tell me?”

“Maybe some other time.” Monique gets this sad look and keeps staring down
at her lap. “I should get back home.” And reaches down to finish zipping up
her bag. I run my tongue over my lips, missing her touch and found myself
just blurting out my next question, almost in a panic;

“Do you have some extra time?”

“Yes.” No hesitation from her in that answer. She wants me to ask her to
stay.

But a very heavy feeling is coming down again, and neither of us are
smiling for some reason, or even looking pleased by what just happened.
Everything feels more awkward now, more serious. The kiss almost made
things between us...worse? I was stuck, frozen, because I did not know what
to say or ask, or what I wanted. How do I make things better?

“Uhm...” Was a good start I guess. Monique is giving me her full attention.
Hanging on my every word it seems. “...I’m very tired.” I let out a sigh
and my shoulders slouch forward. Which is true, I am so physically and
emotionally drained.

“Then it's best I go.” Monique’s right hand reaches for her backpack again.
In another panic my right hand reaches out, gently, to touch her left
wrist, she freezes and watches where my hand is touching hers.

“I am going to go lay down and rest. Maybe you would like to, rest? You
must be very tired as well.” I have no idea what I am saying at this point.
I am just babbling out something to keep her here. My God, what kind of
request is that? She is not expecting anything like that to come out of my
mouth I bet. But her kiss, it kicked in a door to my emotions, and things,
no matter how absurd are just flowing out of me now. Monique’s look is even
confused, and emotional, but she just nods ‘Yes’.

But a nap? That is so stupid. Why did I suggest such a thing. Anyway, when
I stand up I take a very light grip on Monique's hand leading her into my
small bedroom, trembling but floating with this light airy feeling. Is this
what 'love' feels like? That thought frightens me.

I kick off my shoes as I stand at the edge of the bed.

“We could just lay down and rest, it’s been a long couple of days.” I make
a small gesture with my hand toward the bed, once again I can not bring
myself to even look at her, or she me? I guess when you consider where we
are coming from, this uneasiness is to be expected. I crawl over my double
bed first, feeling the good softness of the cotton covers. “We could even
sleep in a spoon position? You're taller, so you could sleep behind me?” It
is much better if I avoid her gaze when I say these things, or my voice
will clam up. I am not sure if she will even follow me. What is Monique
thinking now? To her, am I just this goofy girl asking her to take a nap?
Will she just turn around and leave? I probably would. But her body weight
is now on the bed and soon she is crawling over next to me, and yes we are
still fully dressed. She snuggles up behind me and wraps her right arm over
my waist, it’s as if we do this all the time. I have to force myself to
take slow, measured breaths, because I am getting so excited.

“I’m the big spoon.” She sighs into the back of my head. I nod and then
look over my shoulder, giving just a faint smile. She gives me one in
return. But I am afraid again and quickly turn away, pushing my head into
the pillow. I take her right hand with my right and pull it up tight
against my chest.

“You cold?” She asks because of my shaking.

“No, just...nervous.”

“Me too.” She says.

Soon we both seem to settle down. I can feel her face push into the back of
my head and then into the side of my neck. She seems to be inhaling,
smelling me, and that is arousing me on so many levels. Our bodies squirm
to find that perfect spooning position. No more talking now, just resting
and holding one another. Our sock covered feet slowly rubbing against one
another. After many long battles we are letting our our bodies and
muscles make friends for once.

Maybe this was a good idea after all. Laying down next to one another. No
talking, then again, maybe we are talking. Maybe there are ways of having
whole conversations just through body language? That is what we are doing.

Waking from a damn good sleep I feel Monique stir behind me. ‘Did this
really just happen?’ I wonder. I can’t believe she is laying here next to
me, holding me! And we tried to kill each other yesterday. What is
happening? Why is this happening?

I roll my head over to find her sitting up and looking down at me, her
beautiful face, right there over mine. My head presses back into the pillow
and I wonder if she can read all of the anxieties on my face. Another faint
smile forms over our lips, but I am a little wary as I don’t really know
what to make of all of this. Yes...yes I do, I have strong feelings for
this girl, but after all we have been through? And who is she really? Do I
really know anything about her?

Oh God, what if this another set off mind games? No! She would not do that
to me. Please no. I am allowing myself to be so vulnerable now. Maybe
Monique senses my fears. Her right hand moves up and caresses my face as
our eyes remain focused on one another. “You are so beautiful.” She
whispers down at me. My chest rises with emotion and yes, I blush again and
my eyes get teary.

I give a faint shake of my head ‘no’, and say “You are the beautiful one.”

There is a problem, I don’t know what it is and Monique won’t tell me. She
just pulls away to sit on the edge of the bed, I can tell she is in a lot
of discomfort from our fight yesterday, just by the way she is moving. I
should know, I am in feeling the same. Cautiously I scoot over and sit next
to her. Will the right words come? I hope so. Until then I feel like a
mute. Monique begins wiggling her right foot into her shoe and groans,
wincing in pain. Immediately I slip off the bed, to the ground, to unlace
her shoe, helping her foot into her shoe. It is her right leg, the one I
hurt during our wrestling match, and now I feel really sad. I start
adjusting her laces and tying her shoes, asking her if they are
comfortable, but she is being so quiet. I have to look up to see what her
expression is. She only nods ‘yes’. She just keeps sitting on the edge of
the bed, watching me in silence. Her right hand reaches down and runs a
finger through my blonde hair. “You are being so nice to me, even after all
the bad things I have said and done to you.” Her eyes get teary again.

I look down at her shoe and blink quickly to clear my eyes. “I’ve done some
bad things as well.” I say softly. I look up and my left hand rubs over her
right thigh, “Will your leg be okay?” She just nods ‘yes’, but I think she
is just saying that to make me feel better, no matter what the truth is.

Groaning, I try and stand up, Monique reaches down to help me up. Sitting
next to each other again I watch how her chest will rise and fall several
times. Something is getting ready to happen, looking up I am startled to
see a big tear roll down her left cheek. Almost instinctively my right hand
reaches over and wipes the tear from her face and now I am shaking again,
leaning close to her, rubbing her back to console whatever is deeply
troubling her. Troubling her? Something is very wrong with both of us.

It must be bad news. Someone has died. A close friend? A coach? A family
member? I brace myself for the worst possible...

“Annika.”

“Yes?”

“I really do want to tell something this time.”

I nod yes. My poor heart, it is beating so hard, doing that thing again,
coming in deep, long thumps. Monique can not look me in the eyes, but her
head moves a little, as if she is now looking down at my knees. She seems
to be waiting for something and whatever she was waiting for, she must have
found it because she then looks up at me, right in the eyes. It is the most
painfully bashful look I have ever seen her give...

“I love you. Not as a friend, but I am ‘In Love with You’, kind of love.”

What the fuck did she just say? Ladies and Gentlemen. Every piece of
equipment is malfunctioning. Prepare for a crash! And I feel seasick! The
room is rocking and spinning!

When her lower lip begins to quiver with emotion, it is all too much and I
can no longer contain my emotions. Swallowing down my fears I try to say
something, but that doesn’t stop the stream of tears from running down my
cheeks. My voice cracks and more tears. My jaw has gone right to the floor,
but no words come out, just this squeaking noise. I am trying to speak and
only squeaking noises are coming out!

Monique starts shaking her head, “Don’t say anything, okay. Just let me
finish...” Monique’s nose was leaking as much as her eyes now. It is
confession time. She sits up straight and took a deep breath. So I just
shut my mouth and listen. Good thing too, I can not form words at the
moment.

She looks up toward the ceiling and gives a faint smile as if reliving some
memory that brings back so much pleasure. It breaks my heart. “I have been
in love with you since the first time we met in High School. I even
remember the first day you walked out of class and came down the hallway
toward me. That was the moment. But I was so sure you would never feel the
same way about me. That something between us could never work out. So...”

I see her neck muscles contract as she swallows hard. “So...I tried hating
you.”

Now came a pause, a painful pause as I watch her expression change, from
one of fond remembrance, to one of agony. The stress starts to etch its way
all over her face, “How badly I wanted to hate you. I tried everything I
could, any little quirk or thing you did I tried to use against you. But
nothing worked. I even took a scholarship to the farthest place possible,
on the opposite coastline to get away from you.”

I sit quietly and listen, scooting closer and wrapping my right arm around
her broad strong back. She has her fists clenching in her lap as she spoke
of the pain, of how she hated me for so long.

“I wouldn’t even look at that damn video for the longest time. But when I
did it just brought back so many feelings. So this entire idea, to come
back and pick another fight...” I took her left arm and pull it around
behind me, we now sat leaning against one another, arm-in-arm. She doesn’t
finish that sentence, her voice tails off and I really don’t care.

Monique finally finds her voice again. “It wouldn’t have mattered the
outcome of yesterday. I think I would still be sitting here unloading all
of this.”

I am at a loss for words. Anyone would be. When everything you have ever
known is suddenly flipped upside-down, right-side-up. Monique sat slumped
over, looking and sounding dejected, even after confessing all of her
emotions. She turns her face toward me and the pain is still written all
over and in her eyes. Her right hand comes up to caresses my left cheek,
the one she slapped and I can see she is apologizing with her look and
touch. My right hand moves from behind her, and the back of my hand
softly strokes her left cheek. No words are needed, and some apologies
don’t need verbalizing.

I lay my head down on her left shoulder. “You have a strange courtship
ritual.” I sigh. Now that gets a faint chuckle out of Monique.

“Well, I can’t just date anyone. They have to measure up.” And her left
hand begins to stroke up and down my spine.

“When are you leaving?” I have to ask.

“In a couple of days.”

“So soon.” I sigh.

I take several deep breaths to control my emotions as I walk her to the
door and say goodbye. We hug, and kiss very lightly because of our sore,
busted lips. But everything gets all awkward again after I open the door.
Something is missing.
Something is all wrong about this moment.
And it is my fault!
More panic as she turns to leave, frantically I reach out and grab her by
her left wrist.

“Hey.” I call after her, and pull her back into my apartment, closing the
door. Lethargically she moves back inside and looks down at me with these
big sad eyes again.

“Can I have another hug?” I ask.

She smiles but something is still off. I press my face into her neck and
began to hyperventilate, and my throat swells up with emotion, my chest
heaves. I can't speak! Oh no! But I have to, I have to get control.
I press my mouth against her cheek and no thinking...
just say the words, and thank God they come out...sounding so natural...

“I love you too Monique.”

Her hands, those big strong hands, they grip my shoulders and gently push
me away to look me in the eyes. Deeply. So Deep and full of so much life
that I am shaking like a leaf as she holds me. “I love you.” I say it
again. Now I can’t see her because the veil of tears are flowing again.

“You do?” There. There it is. A spark of life and joy that is Monique.

“I truly do.” I smile up at her and nod my head up and down.

She pulls me back in and squeezes the life out of me! Ghaaghhh! I am
groaning as she crushes me! The black amazon Goddess is back. Our aching
breasts crush against one another. Such sweet pleasure and pain. I guess I
will have to learn to live with both.

She pushes me away, to look at me. "My breasts ache." She flexes her chest
and winces, looking embarrassed but with a hint of excitement. I blush and
look away as well, "Mine too." and I lightly rub a hand over my chest.

Awkwardly, I glance up at her as her fingers wipe the tears from my
face. “Say what you are really thinking. You have that look on your face.”
Monique implores. She knows me so well.

“So uhm. Does this mean that I am your girlfriend?” Lord, that sounds so
silly, I feel like some dumb girl back in High School.

“Yes, yes you most defiantly are.”

"Good." I sigh with a smile. Pushing up on my toes, we hug, and this time
all our muscles are alive with passion, fire and love. We groan as our
chests painfully swell against one another, but it is worth it. Our heads
rest on each other’s shoulders as we clutch onto one another. We press
crotch-to-crotch as hard as we dare, ignoring the ache in our bodies. Her
hands move down and firmly grab my ass, I flex my buns for her.

“I love you!” I say again.

“Thank you, thank you.” Monique begins to sob, “I love you too.”

We collect ourselves and I walk her down to her car, hand-in-hand.

“When will you come see me?” She asks.

“In a couple of weeks. We should both be all healed up by then.”

Monique lets go her big perfect toothy grin, one of her cuts on her lips
opens up. “Girl, I can’t wait to see you again.” Her expression has this
mischievous look. My whole body feels feverish and my private parts get
hot. What does this black Goddess have in store for us now?!

And the truth shall set you free...or something like that.

~~~~

[spartwow]

Hmmm I wonder if they’ll still be competitive with each other?

I enjoy the rivalry they have, but can they keep that while being together… I guess we’ll see!

[Giannis-CB]

After ch. 11 I wrote :
<<
I will not be surprised if after this physical/erotic/psychological/emotional fight between them, these two turn to one another for a long relationship !
>>

I was right ! Either the end includes a sexfight between them or not, there are deep and strong feelings between them, it was clear reading the story.

Again : very well written story, perfect characters' building, fine description of their feelings.

A deep and perfect "scanning" of their hearts and their minds !

Can't wait to see how you will finish it.