Nandita To Nandini
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Leather And Lace free porn video
Lacey Reynolds shook her head even as she answered the knock on the door. She knew who it was. She was expecting him. Her study partner from the night course that she was taking in counseling at the local college. They had a report to write but this time instead of meeting at the coffee on campus some craziness had possessed her to invite the man to her tiny apartment that she shared with her two small boys. They were with their dad this weekend so it made sense she had rationalized.
Except for the fact that nothing about this man sense. Sean was former military, though he never said which branch. He said surprisingly little, yet what he left unsaid said as much about him as any words could. She felt it. The man was in that class for the same reason that she was. He wanted to help others back from the edge. For her it was domestic abuse. Oh, her ex had never hit her. He did not have to. Despite that stupid saying about sticks and stones, words could and did hurt you. But for Sean, she felt it was PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, that drove him. It built a common ground upon which their class projects and friendship had built over the past few months.
But whatever had possessed her to invite him here? No one came into the home that she shared with her sons. It was hers. Her refuge after a decade of the constant barrage of complaints that had marked her marriage. The house was never clean enough, the dinner never warm enough, his shirts never crisp enough. It never ended until she was lost. Lost herself into trying to please another…an impossible task.
The gentle rapping at the door was getting louder. She looked around the place, trying to see it through the eyes of another. Toys filled every single nook and cranny. The furniture was all salvaged from second hands stores, that recycling website, or as a last resort bought as cheaply as possible. Her quilts on the back of couch and the matching pillows added a feminine touch to what could only generously be called shabby chic. With the emphasis upon shabby as she was reminded every single time her ex dropped the boys off to complaints of ‘his’ sons living in such a dive when he had provided them with a fine house in the best neighborhood and a big backyard. Lacey had learned to smile and nod as she took their bags. His words no longer held the power they once had, but they still hurt.
But she had no magic wand. She could not wave it and turn this place suddenly into something it was not. Like her, it was a case of what you see is what you get. So why had she done this? Invited another man to pass judgment upon her…find her wanting and lacking. But the knock reminded her, she had. And short of being rude she must now face the very real consequences…with him. Leather as she thought of him because of the old worn jacket that he always wore and that smelled of something dark, deep and mysterious…every time she made the mistake of getting too close.
She sighed and forced her hand to turn the knob. To seal her fate…
***
Sean was just about ready to turn and leave. Perhaps he had gotten the time wrong? Perhaps the woman had simply changed her mind about having the likes of him in her house? It would not be the first time. He had long since lost count of the number of doors that had been slammed on him his whole life long. That was what happened when you were just a foster kid…a nobody from nowhere.
Only the Marines had ever been home to him. But in the end, they too had turned their back on him. Closed the door in his face with a medical discharge with the nightmares got so bad that his screams woke the whole damned platoon. Not that he blamed them. How could they trust him to do what had to be done when he could not trust himself. It had been a long road back from those darkest days. A road that he knew he would travel the rest of his life. A long, winding, lonely road.
And she had become his only bit of sunshine. The shy, little dove in the back of the class that barely spoke a word. But wow, when you finally got her talking, damn, but the girl was smart. And funny. And pretty. And not for the likes of someone like him, he reminded himself.
He was turning to go when the door finally opened. Well, more like a crack appeared with her face looking as lost as he felt and her eyes looking at the ground, not even daring to met his. He thought for a long moment that she truly had changed her mind, that she was going to send him away, slam that door hard in his face. Why did that thought hurt him like nothing since the night that the social worker took him and his little sister away? Like holding those discharge papers had?
But then she stepped back reluctantly and whispered, ‘I know it isn’t very fancy, but come in…’
As she ushered him into his fantasy. He choked on thin air and felt a tightening in his chest as he saw the yellow dump truck in the corner. How many Christmases had he asked Santa for that exact same toy? But it was never to be. Anymore than the black, red and green bikes that were leaned against the wall in the corner. But when his eyes lit upon the bright yellow quilt that he knew in his gut she had sewn herself his heart stopped. It might be covering a couch that had seen better days, but it was everything that he thought about this woman…sunshine. He noticed the crocheted dollies on the battered wooden table next to it. Sunshine and lace.
Somebody had known what they were doing when they named this one Lacey. It said it all. As much as this place did. One single word floated through his mind…home. And he knew he never wanted to leave this place again.
***
Lacey shifted nervously from foot to foot as she watched the man take measure of her tiny, ramshackle apartment. Of what had become her life at twenty-nine. Of her. She felt each glance in her soul. The toys strewn about. The ratty old couch that she had salvaged when someone left it by the dumpster. It had taken her and the boys over an hour to drag it the hundred feet or so into their living room. Not only had she paid for that one with an aching back but with a tirade from the ex about what bugs and germs must be in the ‘piece of junk.’ But to her it was better than sitting on the floor…and like her…there was still some life left in the old thing.
She had spent a week sewing that old quilt from pieces of dresses and scraps she had from that ‘other’ life. She thought it made the thing better, but yet again her ex had simply shook his head and looked at her like she was crazy.
The same look that Leather had on his face now? Disgust? Pity? Maybe like her ex the couch was not good enough for him to sit on?
‘We can go to the coffee shop if you prefer,’ she finally managed to squeak past that knot in her throat as she fought back tears. Tears that she had refused for over a year to allow out. Why now? Why with him was she losing it? Why was her carefully crafted façade of strength crumbling leaving her the fragile little girl that she hated? That she fought so hard not to be.
She wanted to run then. If she could just have a couple of minutes alone. She could get it back together she knew she could. She had done it before. Picked up the pieces, broken and shattered, of her life and self-esteem. By sheer will she had super glued them together. And she would again. ‘I think I left my textbook in the bedroom. I’ll be right back…just a couple of minutes…’ she pleaded. She did not even wait for an answer before practically running the few feet down the hall to her bedroom.
She collapsed in the middle of it…another quilt this one all the colors of the rainbow. The lace curtains were flapping in the wind. She had all the windows open and her one fan turned on high. Even though this place came with air conditioning, she could not afford a high electric bill so except in the hottest part of the day when it was about the boys’ health she never used the damned thing.
That too weighed upo
n her frail shoulders. What had she done? What had she become? She could no longer hold the tears back then. So she buried her face in the quilt and prayed it was enough to stifle her sobs that rocked her thin body.
***
Sean watched it all slip away as the woman ran from the room. Ran from him. And like before, like always, he was left alone wondering why. Why was he never good enough? Not for his father who had left them when he was practically too young to remember. Not for his mother who spiraled into depression and drugs after the birth of his baby sister. Not even for the Marines to whom he had given his life. But watching this one slip away was almost more than even he could take.
He plopped onto the sofa. He jumped a bit when he heard the thing groan. He was not a small guy. He picked up the teddy bear that was peaking out from behind a pillow at him. It reminded him of the one he had had. The one that he had given to his baby sister that last time he saw her. She was being adopted. She was young and her new family did not want her to even remember her old one…him.
He had been six then. He loved that damned bear. It was all he had had to hold when all he wanted most was his mother, someone, anyone, to hold him. But he knew he would never see her again…the only person he still loved. And he was a big boy now. He had forced himself to give it to her. To hand her that final piece of himself. Hell, her new family had probably burned the damned thing.
Sean shook his head. This was a bad idea. Why had he come here? Why did this woman have his gut in a knot and his nads in a vice? He knew better. Something just were not for him. And real homes like this was one of those things. He looked about the room once more, trying to memorize everything about it. A dream and fantasy to play in his mind on those dark days. Something to remind him that sunshine and lace did still exist in this world.
Until he felt the unshed tears stinging his eyes. He should go. He put the teddy bear down and stood up. The damned couch groaned again like some monster from a bad sci-fi movie. He looked at the door. Maybe he should just leave. Maybe he should just shout out that he had forgotten another appointment or that an emergency had come up? But he was a coward. He had learned even before the Marines that fear was a feeling everyone had…the difference was whether you ran from it or did what needed to be done inn spite of it. He always choose the latter.
But each step down that hallway seemed as hard as crawling on his belly through the smoke from the IED. But as he had that day he forced himself with sheer will to keep going. What he saw when he stood in the doorway knocked him to his knees.
She lay sprawled on the bed. Her body shook so badly that for a moment he feared that she was having one of seizures that he still got occasionally from his brain injury. Then he realized…she was crying. Why was she crying? Had he said something? Done something? He never ever wanted to hurt this woman. But he had no idea what he had done or how to make it stop.
He did the only thing he could think of. He went to her and wrapped her in his arms. He drew her against his chest and held her as tightly as he dared. The same way that little boy had longed for someone to hold him, hell, the same way he still longed to be held.
***
Lacey smelled it again. Through the darkness and void that clean, crisp, musky smelled called her. Sometimes she smelled it in her dreams but this was so damned strong, overpowering really. then she felt it, restrained, held so damned tightly. She was not sure whether to fight or just give into the comfort that those bounds gave her. But she did not have the energy to fight at the moment so instead she just floated and tried to remember what had happened. What triggered this descent into darkness?
Him…Sean…Leather. She forced herself to open her eyes. To face reality…just as she always did. To look hurt and trouble squarely in the face. To stare down her demons. No matter the cost.
His face was dark. He frowned but the way his finger tips brushed the hair back from her face and captured a tear in the process said something totally different from his look, ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.
She shook her head. Those were words that she never expected. Never heard. Words men did not say. Especially not when they had nothing to be sorry for, ‘It’s not you. You did nothing wrong.’
She looked into his eyes. Pain. As deep and dark as her own. In years to come, Lacey played back that moment over and over again. And still she was never sure how it happened. Had she kissed him or had he kissed her? But it did not matter, not then, not ever, because the truth was that in the darkest moment two tired and weary souls reached for one another. Each made the choice to take a risk…one more time. Because sometimes…sometimes what you have to gain is worth more than the little you risk.
***
I won’t bore you with the details of clothes of flying, lips and hands seeking and finding. Bodies coming together in heated passion. Finding things they only ever dreamed existed. Honestly, because I and every other damned writer I have ever known can never do justice to those special moments when sex transcends into pure lovemaking. Use your heart, your imagination…search for your dream in Leather and Lace.
I will tell you that…they over slept and when another knock came at the door she was searching for her clothes and babbling about him going out through the window. I will tell you that he took her hand in his, stopped the madness in her mind, with the simple words…’Could you ever love a man like me?’
Her answer was fragile and wrapped in all the insecurities of woman who has known abuse. But she found the strength in that moment to be honest with him…and more importantly with herself. ‘I think I already do.’
The kiss that followed her answer as the knocking got louder had nothing to do with lust or sex…it was raw and real. Hope at its best. And when he drew back, he smiled and said, ‘Go answer the door. I’ll be there in a moment, woman. Because I ain’t going no where. This is home. When I walked in I knew would never want to leave.’ He found the courage to believe that sometimes, just sometimes in this fucked up world, good people deserve to have their dreams come true.
Was it easy? Did everything change instantly for Leather and Lace? Hell, no. There was still very nasty divorces. Battles with the VA. PTSD…times two. Seizures. Too little money and too much month. Two very loud and hyperactive little boys who were always into everything. But when two souls pull together things are easier than when they pull apart. Somehow they got by…lovers forever…face to face.
And so began the unusual love story of Leather and Lace…two broken pieces that just fit. And at least in my world…love does conquer all.
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