![Old Flames Rekindle In Stirred Up Dust [M37F37] [Image #8] [Cheating Exes] [Oral] [Anger & Frustration] [Moral Dilemmas & Blunt Truths] [Slow Burn]](https://external-preview.redd.it/l0_nP9KNuLnFA5hZ0yW7QAoQ9G4dpkhpeMXltiX-r6Q.jpeg?width=1080&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=0e7b6196e05c5f7e60b267ed60a13d1cfd42e037)
Old Flames Rekindle In Stirred Up Dust [M37F37] [Image #8] [Cheating Exes] [Oral] [Anger & Frustration] [Moral Dilemmas & Blunt Truths] [Slow Burn]
“So, 6 in the morning, my alarm goes off. I stroll to the window, but no Mount Fuji in sight. I don’t even know where to look. I remember my friends telling me to stop muttering, that they were trying to sleep. I take a long, steaming shower … I’m standing in the cramped bathroom, fighting with the belt on my kimono … and Ben shouts, ‘Wayne! The fucking mountain!’
“And there it fucking was, right in front of our window, in all its glory. Majestic. For twenty fucking minutes, and then it got covered in clouds again.”
I took another sip of Mezcal, straightened the cardboard coaster and put the glass down.
“Always thought it was just another mountain,” Zack grinned. “I don’t really get the hype about Japan as a whole, but hearing your stories …”
“I feel you,” I said. “Until you’re there, and you get dragged along. That mountain became a symbol for our soul-searching - don’t laugh! At least I didn’t start collecting stamps like Ben.”
“It’s just funny hearing you, of all people, getting sentimental about a mountain, of all things.”
“I’m a changed man, Zack,” I grinned, starting to fold a napkin into a crane.
“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. How long are you staying in town, this time?”
“I’m planning to stay, really. If I can find a job and a roof before my couch surfing credit expires.”
“Knowing you, you’ll find a girl to stay with before your friends kick you out.”
“Like you did, eh? Come on, I’ve seen the ring on your finger. Tell me. Do I know the lucky gal? Or guy?”
“You know very well that I’m straight, Wayne,” Zack winked.
“Tell me about her, Zack! What are you waiting for?”
“You know her …”
“Yes …?”
“God, Wayne. I didn’t want to tell you. It’s Kayla, okay?”
He chugged his beer. I accidentally strangled my crane.
“You know I always liked her,” Zack continued. “We got married two years ago. Been together for almost five.”
My Kayla? Even if that timeline meant it was a decade after we broke up. And two or three years after the last time we hooked up.
“Didn’t invite me for the wedding?” I heard myself ask, spinning my glass in my hand. Staring into the amber abyss.
“We did, actually. I insisted on doing right by you. Except you didn’t live at the last address we knew.”
“Two years ago, huh?” I said softly. “I was seeing someone. Didn’t turn out great, I have to say.”
“When does it ever for you?” Zack asked.
He patted me on the shoulder as he went to the bathroom. Or perhaps he was just keeping his balance, judging by his unsteady walk.
I didn’t want to think about Kayla too much, though. I needed some fog in my brain. So I ordered another smoky Espadín, and a triple IPA for Zack.
~~~
“Ow!” Zack shouted, banging his head against the door while attempting to pick up his keys. A few seconds later, he threw me an angry look. “Ssh! You’ll wake Kayla up!” he whispered loudly. Then, he tried to stick his index finger in the keyhole.
I bent down and grabbed the keys before he could kick them into the sewer grate, unlocked the door, and supported him as we walked in.
“Come, come, to the garage. You have to see my imim … impapa … Impalala. It’s a beauty,” he said, pointing me the way, and almost killing us both when he tripped over a pile of shoeboxes. A burgundy pair of women’s boots fell on the floor, looking brand new.
We entered the garage, navigating by the faint hallway light. Even in the dusk, the sleek Impala’s paintjob shone. I spotted boxes of power tools and piles of dust all around the place.
The sound of fast, naked feet came up behind us. Zack seemed not to hear it.
“Wait, let me … find the light …,” he whispered.
“Do you even know what time -”
The fluorescent tubes flickered to life, stunning Kayla with their harsh light. She stood in the doorway, wearing only a black negligé, turned transparent under the light. I tried not to stare at her breasts, nearly bursting out of the flimsy fabric. Or the neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. Perhaps I could focus on the scar of her appendectomy -
Her eyes went wide when she saw me. I smiled weakly, waving at her.
Our reunion did not improve Kayla’s mood.
“ZACK! YOU CAN’T JUST BRING PEOPLE HOME! I’M NAKED!”
“It’s just Wayne, s-sweetie. Nothing he ain’t seen before,” he said, but she had already stormed off again.
“Whaddaya say, Wayne? G-gorgeous, isn’t she? What a body.”
He stood leaning against a freezer, enthralled by his car. I went to stand next to him, in case he’d slide right off and break his neck.
Kayla re-appeared, wearing a frayed bathrobe that still left plenty of leg exposed. Not that I looked. She pointed a finger in my face.
“You’re still functional? Get him to bed, then. And fuck you for letting him drink so much.”
I put my arm around Zack again, slowly following Kayla towards the bedroom, while he kept on muttering about the car.
“Not entirely fair, Kay,” I said sheepishly. “We didn’t drink that much. How could I know he gets wasted so fast these days?”
“Some of us have grown up, Wayne.”
~~~
After the second time he elbowed me on the chin, I gave up trying to take Zack’s shirt off. I’d managed to get him out of his sweater and jeans, at least. His head looked distinctly uncomfortable, like he slipped off his pillow and face-planted on the mattress, but he would adjust his position once the intoxication wore off. I hoped.
I folded his clothes, then retraced our steps, straightening everything Zack had knocked over. Trying to get in Kayla’s good graces. Stepping quietly across the creaking floorboards, I reached the entrance, and hung up my coat. The light was on in the room to the right.
Gently, I pushed open the door, entering their living room. Kayla sat with her legs pulled up on a dusty looking couch with floral patterns. An heirloom from a grandparent?
“Your hubs is safely tucked in,” I said softly.
She looked up from her book, taking off her reading glasses. The cover showed a diminutive, annoyed looking girl next to a hulking, blonde guy.
“I guess you’ll be leaving then? For another couple of years?”
“It doesn’t have to be like this, Kay,” I sighed.
“Then how, pray the fuck tell, should it be?”
“Well, for starters, I was hoping I could postpone leaving until tomorrow. I’m staying with a friend on the other side of town, and it’s dangerous to go back alone at this time. I came all the way here to get Zack home safe, you know?”
“You could have put him in an uber. You knew I’d be here.”
“It was still a nice surprise when you showed up half naked.”
She threw a box of tissues, aimed at my head, but launched with such speed that they hit the ceiling fan instead. For a few, tense seconds, the box balanced on the fan’s blade. Then, just when we heard Zack snore loudly, the box fell down, hitting the floor with a sharp crack.
I opened my mouth, but Kayla snapped at me.
“That flattery may have worked when I was twenty, Wayne, but I’m tired of words. I’m not wearing make up, I have bed hair, and my tits and ass are sagging. Don’t lie and tell me how good I look. Just … where the fuck have you been?”
Trying to mollify her, I sat down on the shaggy rug. Despite its soft, fluffy appearance, it was hard as nails to sit on. I picked up the dented tissue box and put it on the coffee table.
“I’ve been … everywhere, really. I’ve lived fast in Dubai, I’ve backpacked through Chile. I came back to see if, perhaps, I could find peace at home now. I’m fully aware how lame it sounds. You have every reason to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you, you idiot. I hate the things you do, and especially those you don’t do.”
“You’re … taking this way better than I expected, actually.”
“I was ready to get angry at your excuses, I guess. This … soul-searching stuff … it’s so fucking lame that you wouldn’t have made it up. Threw me off completely. I mean, are you spiritually awakened now? Gonna tell me about your third eye?”
I closed my eyes, pretended to focus. Then I opened them, and looked her up and down.
“My third eye says … regarding your appearance … ‘growing up is the most attractive thing a person can do’”, I grinned.
“I imagine someone said that to you as an insult,” she replied dryly, but the edges of her mouth curled up.
“Oooooh, that’s how she meant it?”
Kayla stood up and swatted my head with her book.
“I’m going to bed now. I need my beauty sleep. You can tell me more tomorrow.”
She looked back over her shoulder, pointing at the couch.
“If you’re into vintage, you’ll enjoy her. She folds out, and the springs are as old and rusty as I am.”
Under her breath, I heard her mutter, “‘cause if it doesn’t have an engine, Zachary doesn’t bother with it.”
“Sweet dreams, catch you in the morning,” I shouted after her. She snorted. But I thought I saw some spring in her step.
With loud creaking noises, the couch transformed into a shabby bed. I stripped down to my boxers, picked up a plaid from the floor, and curled up. The plaid smelled vaguely of Kayla’s old perfume - or was that just my mind filling in the blanks?
~~~
A series of dry thuds woke me up. My mouth felt like I’d had cotton pads for dinner, and I realized I hadn’t brushed my teeth.
My phone said it had barely been half an hour. I stood up, raiding the fridge for a sports drink, then went scouting for the bathroom. There were five doors in the hallway. I knew the garage and bedroom.
A strip of light shone from underneath the third door. Did they have a child? Zack would have said so, no? Then again, he hadn’t been eager to say he was married.
Two remaining doors, so I had a 50/50 chance. Unless the room with the lights on contained a goat, in which case my odds rose to 2 out of 3. Right?
Ugh, shut up, Wayne.
Of course, I chose the wrong door first, which looked like a home office. Must be Kayla’s. The final door was, indeed, the bathroom. Turning on the soft vanity lights, I rummaged through the drawer for a new toothbrush. A hundred different creams … fish oil … collagen … hair dye … ah, a bamboo toothbrush.
Their toothpaste turned out to be flavorless. Literally. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read it on the tube. Like eating a spoon of baking soda. How had it come to this? They both used to be cool.
“Can’t sleep? Guilty conscience?”
I startled, dropping the toothpaste, which landed on my big toe. I hopped around, biting the toothbrush to stop myself from shouting.
“Jesus, Kayla!” I hissed. “Do your footsteps only make noise when you want them to!?”
“They sounded the same as always, but I guess you were distracted by your own face in the mirror.”
She had ditched the threadbare bathrobe and, sadly, the negligé as well, for a long, light grey nightshirt. A thick, utilitarian fabric that obscured every curve of her body.
“Can’t sleep either?” I asked.
“Next to Zack’s snoring? I moved into the guest bedroom … are you still staring at my body? Degenerate.”
“Because you’re still beau - wait, you have another bedroom? And you put me on the couch?”
“You didn’t ask for a bed, you asked for a couch.”
Despite her earlier words, her eyes roamed all over me. I was in decent shape, solid muscle under a layer of culinary fat. Dressed only in boxers. Tight ones. Growing very tight, under the gaze of my old flame.
“You’re a very bad host. And your toothpaste is horrible,” I sputtered indignantly.
“Be glad I didn’t kick you out. For leaving, for showing up, for bringing my husband home drunk, and for prancing around in your boxers, and - oh my god, are you hard? Wayne!”
“What!? I’m made of flesh and blood, Kay. I can control my actions, but being this close to you, barely dressed, I can’t control my body!”
“Drop the fucking act already,” she spat.
I gazed at my feet. There was an angry red line where the edge of the toothpaste had attacked my toe.
“Listen, I’m not gonna pretend I’m a class act. I understand your distrust. But I’m not sure what act you’re talking about.”
Kayla raised her eyebrows at me. I looked at the ceiling instead. The ventilator was full of dust and an edge of mold. Near the corner was a dirty fingerprint, probably left by the painter. The bottles of off-brand shampoo on top of the cabinet were very badly aligned, and -
“Wayne, you came here because you want to know if you can still have me. You thought you’d snap your fingers and I’d spread my legs for you. I don’t even turn you on anymore, you just want to feel like a player.”
I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, with my leg awkwardly raised to hide my erection. There had been no malice in her words. Sadness, rather. How could I defend myself against that accusation?
“Well, I’m done feeding your ego,” Kayla sighed. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk tomorrow. If you don’t run off again. Now get out of my bathroom, and stay in the living room. ”
Lost for words, I gave her shoulder a squeeze and left.
~~~
I couldn’t blame my insomnia on the alcohol this time. Only on my own decisions haunting me.
The couch groaned as I rolled over and stood up. I pulled clean boxers and a T-shirt from my backpack, put on my jeans, and snuck into the hallway. In this dark, unfamiliar house, I kept feeling I was gonna bump into something - or someone.
There was no light on in any of the rooms. The only sign of life was Zack’s deep, rhythmic snoring.
I grabbed the cold door handle, hesitated, then pressed it down slowly. Was it better to make noise, or not? I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of my heartbeat anyway, as I snuck into the guest bedroom, and closed the door behind me.
Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could make out her shape, wrapped in blankets. She was always cold at night. I saw her tossing and turning. Unsure how to wake her up without giving her a heart attack, I tiptoed closer.
“NO … my eggs … you ate the last egg again … I can never have anything nice,” Kayla muttered, her voice thick with emotion.
“Kayla? You awake?” I whispered.
“Jusss leave the eggs … in the kitchen … thanks,” she replied.
“Kayla, I need to talk to you.”
She froze. One eye shot open. She yelped, pulled the bedsheet over her head, then slowly peeked her head out again.
“Wayne are you fucking crazy what are you doing in my bedroom get the fuck out you fucking creep you scared the fucking shit -”
“Kayla, listen to me,” I hissed.
She took a few quick breaths.
“Turn on the light.”
I fumbled around until I found the switch. The light was warm and soft in this room. A bookshelf and a wardrobe filled up the space beside the bed.
“How long have you been perving on me in the dark? Did I talk?”
“I just came in. You said something about eggs.”
“Probably processing what a chicken you are,” she snorted, sitting up with the bedsheet protectively covering her body. As if catching a glimpse of her bare shoulders would be invasive.
The words didn’t come as easily as I’d planned.
“Wayne, you snuck into my bedroom in the middle of the night. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, but it’s taking a lot of effort. Explain yourself or get the fuck out of my house.”
“You were wrong. Earlier. About my reasons for being here. And I … want to be honest,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m here because I have nowhere to go, Kay. I hoped Zack could help me out. I’ve hit rock bottom.”
“You expect him to help you out? And in exchange, you seduce his wife?”
“No. Swear on my mother’s grave. I just don’t know how else to act around you. And … we both know you’ve got the final say on whether I can stay here.”
“So you think you’ll persuade me by trying to seduce me?”
“No! It’s … two separate things,” I sighed. “I’m well aware I’m digging my own grave here.”
“For someone who plays with people’s emotions like you do, you’re sometimes extremely bad at reading them.”
“Huh?”
“I spent half my life in love with you, you fucking idiot. Of course you can stay here. As long as you need. If you behave like a normal person, that is, instead of breaking into my room while I’m asleep. What if Zack would wake up and see us?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Stared at her, then at the floor.
“What?” she asked. “I know that expression. It’s not just an excuse you bit back. You’re hiding something.”
I shook my head, feeling childish.
“Wayne, tell me or I’m kicking you out.”
“You just said I could stay -”, I began, but her glare told me she wasn’t in the mood.
I tapped my fingers on the wooden bedpost, struggling to meet her eyes.
“Kayla, there’s something you don’t know. About me. And about Zack. We … shared. Girls. In the past.”
Kayla stared at me, eyes wide, mouth open. Even when she stood half naked in the garage, she’d looked more composed than now.
“Why … why now? You never brought it up when we were dating. What … how?”
“I didn’t want to share you. And I didn’t want to lose you if I told you. I really came here tonight, intending to be happy for you. That you ended up with a better, more reliable person than me. But …”
“But!?”
“You were blunt with me before, so I’ll return the favor. You’re not happy. Zack’s gotten complacent. You’ve lost confidence in yourself. This whole room is decorated for you, so I know you sleep here alone too often,” I said, pausing to take a breath. “Your outfits scream sexual frustration. I saw a pair of sexy boots in the hallway, when’s the last time you wore them? Kayla, I thought it would destroy me to see you happy with another. But it hurts me more to see you sitting on a shelf, collecting dust.”
A weight fell off my shoulders. Although I feared I’d only transferred it to her shoulders. Kayla took her time, then nodded to the door.
“Wayne. Out,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I understand. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. But hearing him, oblivious, snoring while you hide in here … I got accustomed to the idea of you hating me already, so I’d rather you hate me for the truth. I’m not telling you to leave him. I just think you’re both living a lie.”
I snuck out of the room as quietly as I’d gotten in, then sat on the couch, in silent contemplation.
What the fuck had I done?
Where the fuck would I stay after this?
Was I even honest about my own feelings?
~~~
Accompanied only by the hum of the refrigerator and the sloshing of the dishwasher, I scrolled through my phone, looking for a hotel room I could afford for a night, and a bus to get there before dawn. Staying here and ruining a marriage wouldn’t do anyone any good.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
I pictured Kayla rushing to wake up Zack, and tell him to throw me out. I stood up, determined to leave with a shred of dignity, but the living room door swung open before I could make it out.
Should I make a break for the window?
“Seven months,” Kayla said. She stood there, a gloomy shadow in the doorway. Hunched over, arms crossed over her chest, wearing her frayed bathrobe again. I could tell her eyes were red.
“What … are you talking about?” I asked.
“I’ve had those boots for seven months … and I never wore them. Zack never even noticed them. I don’t remember our last date night. When I try to be sexy, he comes home tired - or drunk.”
“Kayla, I …”
“You’re leaving. You pity me. You come here, rip off the band-aid, then run from the consequences. You’re still a coward.”
She advanced towards me, forcing me backwards, while keeping her eyes on the floor. Until I was back against the couch. I sat down, letting her tower over me. She grabbed my t-shirt and forced me to look up at her.
“You like being a tourist. Come by for a little vacation, then fuck off. But I’m not letting you. You lanced the boil. Now clean up the mess.”
My mind raced through a hundred possible protests, each one sounding worse than the previous. Before I managed to speak, my hands were undoing the hastily tied belt of the bathrobe.
“Zack … ?” I asked feebly.
“He thinks I’m too much effort. So you are gonna make that effort, Wayne. The second you stop putting in effort, I kick you to the curb. And if he wakes up, you’re explaining everything, taking all the blame. Cause it’s all your fucking fault,” she said, her words fading into a breathless whisper.
The robe fell open. I put my hands on her hips, brushed my lips against her abdomen, then trailed kisses down to the front of her legs. Kayla just stood, her shoulders tense, her eyes averted.
“I’ve … let myself go to shit,” she sobbed.
“I spent the last twenty years of my life in love with you, Kayla. You’ll always be beautiful to me.”
She let out a plaintive whimper. I stood up and put a hand behind her neck, the other on her hip, and pulled her close.
Our lips grazed each other. My hand played with her hair, thinner and shorter than before. I kissed the edges of her mouth, her cold cheeks. With my thumb, I stroked her crow’s feet.
Slowly, her shoulders relaxed. She let out another sob, then tilted her head towards me, and wrapped her arms around my neck.
I slipped my hands down her back, underneath the robe, until I reached her plump ass. My tongue traced her neck, down to her collarbones. I trailed kisses down her chest, to the edge of the threadbare bra she’d put on. Her skin was dry, with a faint taste of salt, but her smell brought back innumerable memories.
When I pulled her body against mine, all those years apart melted to nothing in the blink of an eye. We kissed, deep and passionate.
A tear brushed my cheek. Her kiss became possessive, her nails digging into my neck.
I took a step backwards … and bumped against the couch. It groaned in protest.
“The couch is too noisy. We can’t really wake Zack up,” she whispered. “And my bedroom is a bad idea, too.”
“Remember what we used to do when you had a rough day at work?” I grinned.
“That’s soo naughty,” Kayla grinned back, her face lighting up.
Tenderly, I lifted her into my arms, and sauntered towards the kitchen. With a groan, I put her down on the warm surface above the dishwasher.
“You’re out of shape, too,” she giggled in a hushed voice.
I stood between her legs, leaning in for another kiss. Kayla grabbed my hands and put them on her breasts, roughly pulling down her bra. Her breasts were bigger, heavier and softer now. I buried my face between them, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin. I sucked a nipple between my teeth, slowly flicking it with my tongue.
Kayla leaned back, her stifled moan covered by the noise of the dishwasher. Her fingers dug in my hair.
“Stop,” she whispered. I paused, looking up at her from right below her breasts.
Then, I took off my T-shirt. My jeans. My boxers. And sank down on my knees in front of her.
I licked my way up her legs, from calf to thigh. Kayla had always had amazing legs. I longed to see her in sexy boots again, under the kind of short, tight dresses she used to wear. She deserved passion in her life.
Kayla pulled her panties to the side, spreading her lips with the other hand. I kissed her pussy. Slathered her from top to bottom with my tongue. I licked along the side of her clit, then poked my tongue against her entrance. Until I tasted her wetness.
I slipped two fingers inside her, shallowly fingering her. I felt her squeeze against my fingertips. Flicking her clit with my tongue, I looked up, to see Kayla biting her bathrobe, her face contorted in ecstasy as she barely contained her moans.
Her legs clamped shut around my head, tremors running through her body. She came fast, needy, and in absolute silence. Her hips rocked until she finally let out a series of short gasps. Slowly, she released her grip on me.
I remained on my knees. I didn’t want to stand up with my hard cock swinging around.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“Me? Nothing. I don’t even want to think about it. I’m going to bed, sleeping like a rose, while you figure out how to get us out of this mess.”
She hopped down and straightened her bathrobe, patting on the head before disappearing down the hallway again. I heard the door of her room swing closed.
I gathered my clothes and went back to my couch. Well, their couch. Sitting in stunned silence, I tried to come up with a plan. First, I needed to convince both of them to let me stay, and buy myself some time.
Perhaps I could start by cooking some eggs for breakfast.