Chapter 13
13
For the next two months, nearly every day, Gabriel gets up a half hour earlier than he used to. He swims for only ninety minutes and comes back in time for us to have a long morning session in bed. Then he’ll doze until he has to go to his first meeting or start working. In the middle of the afternoon, he usually takes a short break so I can do him again.
It’s a lot. Far more than I ever dared to dream of him allowing.
He’s not young anymore, and it’s impressive virility for a forty-year-old man. I still believe he’s so physically needy now because he lived so many years working his body hard but never indulging it in any way.
Whatever the reason, I’ve never been so happy as in these two months. My father is thriving in his new job. Gabriel is finally allowing me to fulfill my purpose as his partner. He’s even talking to me more. He’ll never be an easy or open man, but when I ask him questions—during the massage and even at other times—he usually answers them. He’s still as generous with his credits as he was at the beginning, and he’s making good progress on his project even with the extra time he’s taking off for me to tend to him. And after every session he checks to see if I’m aroused, and if I am, he gets me off with his hand.
I’ve been existing in a giddy dreamworld for weeks, always expecting something to happen to bring me crashing down to earth. But nothing has crashed down yet.
On my 140th day as Gabriel’s partner, he tells me he needs to do an inspection of one of the laborer’s neighborhoods in the city and invites me to come with him.
I say yes, of course. I’m happy for any break in the steady sameness of my days.
I’m excited as we requisition a palace motor and drive out of the palace grounds and toward the south side of the city. My parents don’t live too far from here, so it’s familiar to me, but Gabriel has obviously never been here before.
The residence buildings are all constructed with a similar plain, square architecture. They’re all at least six stories, but none of them are higher than ten. No building in the Capital can be taller than the main wings of the palace, which are all twelve stories. The administrative tower, with the president’s office at the very top, is twenty.
Gabriel tells me he’s working on a section of his plan that includes recommendations for housing, and that’s why he wants to make this tour. We park the motor and get out to walk. He asks me a lot of questions, and I enjoy both the conversation and the unexpected outing.
I occasionally see people I know, and I can’t control the wave of pride that washes over me every time. I’m not only proud of myself for having advanced so far as becoming a palace partner. I’m also proud of him . Of Gabriel.
For being who he is.
We’ve started back toward our motor when some unexpected shouting breaks out farther down the block. It’s the area office for employment and remuneration.
Gabriel stops, drawing me to the opposite side of him as he peers toward the commotion.
“What is it?” I ask. There seems to be a lot of people out in front of the office, but I can’t tell what’s going on. It looks like a loud, disorganized crowd.
“I don’t know. But let’s get away from it quickly.” He takes my hand and starts walking again, his steps so long and fast I have to jog to keep up.
I don’t object or complain. The sounds of shouting and activity are getting louder. They’re scaring me.
One thing that has always been true about the Capital is that its streets are clean and orderly and quiet and safe. Whatever is happening down there is not normal.
At all.
We’ve gotten past the corner with the crowd when suddenly chaos explodes. There are gunshots. So loud and inexplicable they make me jump. Then there are people everywhere, spilling out into the street. Spreading onto the sidewalk where we’ve been walking. Overwhelming us.
The crowd isn’t only loud. It’s angry. People start smashing lights on the lampposts lining the street and flipping small bikes and motors.
Gabriel gets a better grip on me and starts to run.
“What is happening?” I ask him breathlessly, trying my best to keep stride with him.
“It’s a riot. I have no idea what it’s about.”
“A riot? But there aren’t any riots in—” I stop the silly objection before I complete it. I’ve never known there to be a riot in the Capital before, but there’s no other word to describe what’s happening right now.
We’re moving so fast I’m hopeful we’ll get out of the area before anyone notices us, but I’m wrong. At the end of the sidewalk, we’re stopped by two big, rough-looking men. Normally, I wouldn’t be nervous around them. They’re laborers. Like my dad and grandfather. They work with their hands and support their families and do the best they can in the class they were born into. But both of them look violent and furious right now, and both Gabriel and I clearly belong to the palace.
Gabriel makes a sharp turn down an alley, dragging me with him. The guys run after us, and Gabriel thrusts me behind him. So abruptly I use my hands to break my impact against a construction work cart that’s being stowed here.
I’d never for a moment doubt Gabriel’s ability to hold his own in a physical altercation. He’s in good shape from regular swimming, and his father taught him self-defense.
But there are two men, and they’re both about the same size as Gabriel. They look like they hate him. Hate me too. I’ve never experienced anything like it.
I’m too scared to scream or even whimper. I stand frozen, hugging my arms to my chest as I watch one and then the other man lunge toward Gabriel. He sidesteps both advances and then levels a good blow that actually knocks one of the men down.
The other makes a move toward me, but Gabriel grabs him and hauls him back. They scuffle violently, but then the first man starts to stand up. In a panic, I grab a metal pipe from the work cart and swing it hard at the man before he gains his feet. It hits the back of his head, and he collapses back to the pavement.
When I look at Gabriel, utterly shocked I was capable of such a thing, I catch him staring at me with a similar surprise. And also something like awe. He’s managed to knock the other man out now.
Neither one of them is unconscious, but they’re on the ground.
Gabriel gently takes the pipe out of my hands and drops it with a clatter. Then he grabs my hand and pulls me into a run.
This time nothing stops us. We reach the motor, and Gabriel jams it into drive and peels out of the parking spot.
Soon the sounds of the riot fade. I lean forward toward my lap, trying to catch my breath and settle my spinning mind.
“Are you okay, baby?” he asks hoarsely, cutting his eyes from the road to my face and then back again.
“I’m okay. What… I don’t understand. Why were they rioting like that?”
“I don’t know what set them off. But it’s not surprising when the government keeps its people on such a tight leash.”
I frown up at him, briefly distracted from the aftermath of confusion and panic. “But it’s not… it’s not that bad here. It’s safe. And… and…” I don’t have the words to continue I would have had a few months ago. Because I’m suddenly not convinced that the easy answers that used to come to me are true.
Maybe it’s safe here, but is it really good?
I don’t know anymore.
“There have never been riots before,” I whisper.
“Yes, there have. There have been at least two since I’ve arrived here.”
“What?”
“They hush them up as much as possible. That one was the biggest one yet, so I’m not sure whether they’ll be able to keep it quiet.”
“I… I didn’t know.”
I didn’t know a lot of things.
I’m not even sure I know them now.
The riot was triggered by the closing of a large worksite that employed at least two hundred people. Gabriel tells me the following day after a meeting with the president. They’ve already cleaned up the damage and imprisoned the ringleaders. The city is back to what it was before.
Which isn’t what I used to believe.
My life goes back to normal too, defined by the walls of the palace and by my relationship with Gabriel. I don’t get to go on any further outings, but neither does Gabriel. He works at his desk, and he goes to meetings. I read and knit and draw. I help Gabriel relax and I bring him pleasure.
That’s our life. It’s never going to be anything different.
On my 145th day as Gabriel’s partner, I wake up as he’s leaving the room for his morning swim. It’s pitch-black outside since it’s still at the tail end of winter, but I went to bed early last night, so I’m not particularly tired this morning.
I stay under the covers, jittering internally about getting to take care of Gabriel soon. It shouldn’t still be so exciting. It’s the same repeated routine. I use the same massage techniques. The same skills to suck him off. There should be a tedium to the sameness the way there is with the rest of my days, but there’s not.
For some reason being with him in that intimate way feels new and exciting every time.
I’ve given up trying to understand it. Instead, I lie in my window nook for nearly an hour, imagining how I’ll touch him today and how he’ll respond.
Absurdly, my mental visions end up turning me on.
When I finally check the clock, I realize I better get up so I can be showered before he returns. I don’t have to wash my hair, so I don’t take very long scrubbing up and rinsing off. Then I put my nightgown back on. I never put clothes on until afterward since Gabriel will want me to take everything off when he gets back.
I spend the rest of the time flossing my teeth and plucking some stray hairs around my eyebrows. When I hear Gabriel enter the room, I leave the bathroom immediately, smiling when I see his familiar face and wet hair.
He smells like salt. He smiles back at me. “I won’t be long in the shower.”
“There’s no hurry. You don’t have any meetings today, do you?”
“No. Thank God.”
He says that occasionally. Thank God . Even though he doesn’t act in any way like a religious person. I wonder if he actually believes in a god. Otherwise, why continually thank him?
I don’t know any personally since my grandmother died, but there are still some Christians around. Mostly older people. As well as small pockets of Muslims and Hindus. But most people under fifty have no interest in or patience for religion. That kind of devotion to deities died out with the old world.
I’m not quite sure what took its place.
I keep these thoughts to myself as Gabriel disappears into the bathroom. He comes out in seven minutes, wearing a pair of his sleep shorts like normal and smelling strongly of soap.
He’s not very talkative today. Sometimes he’s not. I make a gentle attempt to start conversation, and when it dies, I leave it alone. He doesn’t feel like talking—that’s fine. He’s still relaxing and enjoying the massage. He doesn’t always have to talk for me to recognize his pleasure.
I work my way down the back of his body like normal, but when he flips over, he doesn’t let me continue with the front of his legs. He pulls me higher up his body and places my hands on the front of his shorts.
He’s fully aroused. Already.
“I can’t wait any longer today, baby.” There’s a delicious texture in the soft murmur.
“Can’t you?” I’ve tucked my fingers into the waistband of his shorts so I can carefully pull them down over his prominently erect cock.
“I need your mouth on me right now.”
He must mean it because I’ve barely gotten his shorts off before he’s easing my head down to where he wants it. I love that he’s never even slightly hesitant about it anymore. He knows he’s allowed to take what he needs from me.
I’m smiling as I give the tip of his erection a few teasing sucks before I wrap my lips around my teeth and take him all the way in.
He curves up his spine and moans as he sinks farther into my mouth. “Yes. There it is. That’s what I need.”
I adjust my tongue around his hard shaft and make a silly sound of approval.
“You always give me what I need. Not too fast today.”
I temper my enthusiasm so I can establish a slow, steady rhythm of sucks and swallows. He moves my head at a tempo that matches my sucking, and he’s obviously enjoying it if the uninhibited sounds he’s making are any indication.
I’m having as good a time as he is when he says, “Turn your little ass up this way for me.”
It takes some effort and coordination for me to re-angle my body without breaking the rhythm of my sucking.
But I manage it pretty well. When my bottom is better pointed in the angle of his gaze, he lets go of my head with one hand and moves it so he can rub my ass.
I make a gurgling sound because I’m so aroused and his touch feels so good.
“You’re eager today,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers all the way between my legs so he can part my folds and find my clit.
“Mm-hmm.” It’s a real struggle to not let the hot stimulation distract me from giving him what he needs. I keep sucking even as my pussy flutters in expectation.
He teases me for a few minutes before he finally slides two fingers inside me.
I almost choke at the intense slice of pleasure. My ass gives a few helpless shakes.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” he asks. “Your pussy is so tight and wet. You want this so much.”
I make more of those humming sounds of affirmation, fighting not to fall out of rhythm as he begins to fuck me with his fingers with a matching tempo.
“Look at you, close to coming already. You need this, don’t you? Your pussy is gripping me so well.” He’s lifted his head from the pillow, his eyes shifting between his fingers pumping inside me and my mouth moving over his cock.
I cry out messily around a mouthful of his erection and take him deeper without realizing I’m doing so.
It’s enough to distract him. He moves my head down harder and bucks his hips up in small, clumsy thrusts, making a loud, shaky sound as he comes in my mouth.
He’s stopped finger-fucking me as he comes, but he’s still got them inside me. And watching and feeling him come is enough to push me over the edge too.
I pump my bottom back, riding his fingers as my pussy clamps down around the penetration. Waves of pleasure slam into me.
I almost choke on his final spurt because I’ve lost focus with my own orgasm. I cough a little to clear my throat, but then I manage to suck him through the aftershocks.
Once he’s come down enough to concentrate, he starts pumping his hand again. It feels even better now. My eyes burn. Blur. I can’t stop whimpering as I suck and flutter all around him.
He moves his hand from the back of my head so he’s gently stroking my messy hair. He’s still got his fingers inside me. I hold my position because he hasn’t released me yet. There’s nothing inside me that wants to move anyway.
I’m flushed and panting and drowning in a giddy satisfaction.
“You did really good,” he finally says. “You kept going on me even though you were coming that hard.”
I smile around his softening cock. “Mm-hmm.”
He finally draws my head up. “Are you proud of yourself?” Despite the sated leisure in his expression, he appears genuinely curious.
“Yes,” I admit. “Is that wrong?”
“No, it’s not wrong. You did really good.”
“So did you.”
I rearrange my body so I can focus on finishing the massage, moving up his chest with my hands.
He lets out several long exhales as he relaxes again. After a minute, he stops watching me as his eyes fall closed. When I reach his head, he says, “Don’t let me sleep more than an hour.”
“I won’t.”
“I really shouldn’t be taking morning naps like this.”
“Yes, you should. Haven’t you been working better lately since you aren’t so tense and stressed out?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. I wonder if he’s fallen asleep. Then he finally mumbles, “Yes. Everything’s been better lately. No idea what’s happening to me.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, and it doesn’t matter anyway.
Because he’s drifted off to sleep.