CHAPTER EIGHT
-:- CORK -:-
Opening my eyes slowly, I feel like I’ve slept for a week. I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling so relaxed and recharged all at the same time. It is a great feeling, I have to admit. Eyes fully open, I lay still and stare at the living room ceiling.
SHIT! Living room? I’ve done it again! Raising up on my elbows, I take a crafty peek at Dallas.
She’s fast asleep, thank god. Slipping out from under my quilt, I grab it and my pillow and sneak back to my room.
Quietly closing the bedroom door behind me, I lean against it, and…
Jesus Christ, that’s so cold on my ass. I’m naked.
I have to do something about this, speak to Stitch maybe.
I can’t wander around naked with Dallas here, that’s just so not the done thing.
Saying that, if Dallas were to sleepwalk naked, I wouldn’t mind not getting any sleep.
Listen to me! This must have something to do with my concussion. Definitely speaking to Stitch.
My bathroom routine done, it’s time for a coffee and some breakfast. Creeping to the kitchen, I get the coffee on first and then decide to wait for Dallas before starting breakfast. Taking a chair in the living room, I sip my coffee and absentmindedly stare at her.
She is certainly a beautiful woman, no one can deny that.
The last couple of days, as I’ve interacted with her, she’s shown how caring she is, too.
She’s also very intelligent and our conversations have shown that.
Listening to her and Raven talking last night, there isn’t a lot she doesn’t know about something.
She knew about paint jobs, engines, tuning an engine, and horsepower, of course.
When they talked about four-legged horses her excitement was obvious.
She seemed to have a valid opinion about everything, I even loved the sound of her voice.
I could listen to her for hours when we’re married. If we married, I meant. Married?
Watching as she moves in her sleep, her arm comes out from under her quilt.
Oh, and not just her arm. There’s a full, firm breast staring at me, or I’m staring at it, more like.
The last thing I want to do is to be a gentleman and cover it up.
On the other hand, I really do not want to be caught being a pervert, staring at her nakedness as she’s sleeping.
This is what you might call a moral dilemma.
Taking the high ground, I stand up and walk over to cover her up.
As I bend over to pull the quilt up, she sighs softly and her arm snakes around my neck.
Pulling gently, my head is drawn down and our lips touch.
Gently at first, we kiss, and then her lips part, and her tongue comes out to play.
It doesn’t take long, and the kiss goes from zero to a hundred miles per hour.
I keep my eyes open and watch for any clues that she is awake, but see none.
I tried not to be a pervert looking at a sleeping woman, and now I’m kissing the shit out of her.
I cannot help but kiss her back, and I’m thoroughly enjoying it.
It goes on for a full two minutes or so before she sighs and her arm slips from my neck.
Rolling onto her back, I quickly complete my covering up task, though both breasts are now bare and literally at the end of my nose.
It takes every bit of resolve I have to cover her up and walk away.
Grabbing my mug, I hightail it back to the kitchen and take several deep breaths.
Adjusting my dick in my pants, I try to analyze what just happened.
No matter how I look at it, perving, stolen kiss, whatever, I damn liked it. A lot!
Deciding discretion is the better part of valor, I stay in the kitchen with my back firmly to the living room. I’m just finishing my second coffee of the day when I hear movement. Coughing loudly so Dallas has time to cover up if necessary, I turn and say ‘Good morning’.
“Morning, Cork. I’ve slept like a log. Oh, and I had the most amazing dream.
I dreamed someone kissed me while I was sleeping.
I suppose it was a Sleeping Beauty type thing, but my top was undone, too.
I never sleep with my top undone. It's either on or off, never in between. It was a dreamy kiss, too. I can almost feel my lips tingling from it.” Watching how she runs her tongue over her lips with her eyes closed has my pants jerking as my dick bounces inside them.
“Dreams can seem very real sometimes. Ready for breakfast?” Jumping up, I stand at the stove and try to think of anything that will take my mind off Dallas.
Only when she disappears into the bathroom do I give a sigh of relief.
It’s at least a few minutes before the message reaches below my waist and I feel safe to move about.
I make a large bacon and cheese omelet, large enough for us to share, fresh coffee and place a glass of orange juice for each of us on the table.
I’ve just sat down when Dallas, fully clothed and looking amazing, joins me. Sitting at the table, she eyes the food and drinks and gives me a beaming smile.
“I can’t remember the last time a man made breakfast for me. This is wonderful, thank you.” I'm not sure, but I think I see a tear in her eye before she looks down at the plate in front of her and tucks in.
“You should come to the clubhouse and you’d get that every day. Meat makes amazing breakfasts.” I know that wasn’t what she meant, but I tried to deflect her train of thought.
“I’ll be over at the clubhouse later. Are you coming too? I’m starting my lasso training with Raven and Cora.” She looks up, and I see the tear has gone.
“Yeah, love to. I can’t imagine how much fun it will be watching someone trying to learn that.
Raven and Cora will pick it up fairly quickly, I’m sure, but I’ll bet the old ladies and the Three Stooges will be a hoot!
” Judging by the look on Dallas’ face, she hasn’t realized that there will be a crowd waiting for her.
“As far as I know, there’s only Raven and Cora going to be there?” Dallas frowns.
“Oh, Dallas. You have a lot to learn about the club women. When one does something, they all do it. One gets into some form of mischief, and they all get involved. In case you don’t know it, you’re probably an honorary member of the girl-gang already.
” Laughing at the shocked look on her face, I take the dirty dishes from the table and wash them quickly.
Frying pan gets done, too and then a wipe down of all the counters.
“You’re quite the domesticated man, you know that?” Dallas says as she dries everything and puts it away.
“Dream work makes the team work, as the saying goes.”
“Teamwork makes the dream work, you yack. I hope your motivational talks to the wine shop staff are better than that,” Dallas laughs, and I love the sound. I smile without fail every time she laughs.
“Yack? What the hell is that you’re calling me?”
“Fool. It was a word Old Jeb used when he was funnin’ me about some learning that I didn’t pick up fast enough for him. He had quite a vocabulary of old cowboy or western words and terms.” She looks like she wants to say more but just smiles at the fond memory.
“You can’t leave me hanging, Dallas. Give me a couple of sayings, at least. Give me Old Jeb's sayings and I’ll see if I can translate them.”
“Okay, let’s see. He liked Barkin’ at a knot. Try that.”
“Barkin’ at a knot? Erm, something ropey, maybe. Couldn’t hit anything with a lasso?” I got this, I think to myself.
“I can see where you might think that, knot and all, but nope. It means wasting your time doing something pointless. Similar to flogging a dead horse, banging your head against a wall.”
“I could see how they work, but barking at a knot. One—nil.”
“How about this, gone to Texas.” Dallas grins and I don’t like the look of that.
“Dead? Someone died?” I’m so sure I got this I almost give a yeehaw!
“It means someone just up and left, left without a trace, no word, just gone. Two-nil. Want to go for the hat-trick?”
“Hell, no. Old Jeb can have his victory. He sounds like a good man, Dallas. I would have liked to have known him.” I mean that too.
The rest of the day passes quietly enough, and we just drink coffee and chat.
Sitting on the couch close to each other seems very natural as we talk, but I feel myself starting to nod off.
An hour later, something running across my head makes me open my eyes.
Lying there for a minute…I’m lying down?
Looking up, I see Dallas smiling at me and it’s her fingers running through my hair that woke me.
“Well, hello, sleepyhead. I noticed you didn’t sleepwalk this time.”
Reluctantly raising my head from her lap, I see her flinch slightly. “I’m sorry. You should have pushed me to the floor. Are your legs okay?”
“Just a bit dead from staying still. I didn’t want to wake you until it was nearly time to head over to the clubhouse.
You never moved in your sleep once I’d maneuvered you onto my lap.
You were a bit restless before that.” She laughs and I smile.
That is so strange, I just do it as natural as you like.
Arriving at the clubhouse, we see Raven's truck parked at the side. Dallas heads that way, and I tell her I’ll be out shortly. Once in the clubhouse, I make a beeline for Stitch’s office.
It seems that as soon as I knock, he calls ‘enter’ as though he was expecting it. Taking a seat without him telling me to, I get straight to the point.
“Does concussion make you sleepwalk? Can it have that effect on someone? I’ve never sleepwalked as far as I know, not that there’s ever been anyone around to tell me if I did.
Would you do the very same thing each time?
I keep waking up on the floor next to where Dallas sleeps on the couch, and wouldn’t it depend on events from the day or something?
Oh, and another thing…Can it affect your body in other ways?
Can it make you horny? Make you act differently? Don’t just sit there, say something!”
“Well, let’s start from the beginning and not at two hundred miles per hour. When did you first sleepwalk that you know about?” Stitch asks calmly, and I realize how I just bombarded him.
“Right…Yes…Well… The first night Dallas stayed over I offered to take the couch, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I went to bed as normal, in my bed in my bedroom.”
“Well, as it would be!”
“What? Oh, yes. Well, I went to sleep and everything was fine…”
“Did you have any headache, nausea, or dizziness? Anything unusual or abnormal?” Stitch has a pad and pencil but doesn’t write anything down.
“No…Nothing.”
“Any dreams that you can remember? Any nightmares?” He tilts his head to one side as he watches me think before answering him.
“No…Nothing.”
“Did you have anything unusual to eat or drink before your bedtime?”
“No...Nothing. Oh, wait, we sat together and had a couple of Irish coffees. They weren’t strong, though, probably a single shot of whiskey in each mug. Certainly not enough to have any drunken effect, although I think I was a bit more relaxed than normal when we called it a night.”
“Alright, so we don’t think it’s food or drink related.
Was there anything different from how you would spend a normal night watching TV?
” Stitch leans back in his chair and has a look that I’m not sure I like.
It’s a cross between ‘I have the answer’ and a smirk that says ‘you’re a dumbass for not getting there yourself. ’
“The only difference was I was not alone. I’ve been alone in my apartment for years now. Everything was the same as any other night watching TV.”
“Forget the sleepwalking for a moment, I think I have that solved. What about the feeling horny and acting differently? Describe an instance.”
“Oh! Well…Damn,” I tell Stitch about the first glimpse of breast this morning, and I get carried away and describe the kiss.
“Cork...Let’s start with the sleepwalking.
It’s nothing for you to be concerned about as you’ve been alone for a long time, and then Dallas comes along.
She’s helpful, caring and just all-round lovely.
Your subconscious wants to make the most of being close to her.
End of.” He waits for my reaction, and I just nod and say, “Oh!”
“As for being ‘horny’. If you didn’t feel horny around someone like Dallas, I’d be seriously worried about you. The woman is as gorgeous on the outside as she is inside, you’ve recognized her spiritual and emotional beauty. How you haven’t seen her physical beauty, I don’t know.”
“Well, I told you I saw her…”
“Yes, yes, you did. You said you saw her…breasts. You did say that. There is so much more of her to see, Cork. I think you’ve been alone in that apartment and tied up with that business for far too long.
Where is Dallas now?” Stitch rubs his hands over his face and then through his hair.
He reminds me of one of my teachers that I used to deliberately taunt by feigning being stupid. He used to do the very same thing.
“She has lasso class out back. She’s teaching the women, but I’m not sure who or how many.”
“I suggest you go and watch them learning but pay particular attention to the instructor. I think you're missing something very important, and only you can decide just how important that something is. Now get out, but make sure you see me before you leave.”