Epilogue
JAKE
Some Time Later
The night Shelby called me, the night she confessed her love, as soon as she started speaking, I knew I had to get to her. I got off the phone so quickly, feeling terrible for leaving it the way I had, but there was much to do.
I immediately called Rita and told her I’d be leaving in the morning, and they’d have to reschedule shoots. It was a pain in the ass for her, but she knew how important this was for me.
I packed my bags and took a sleeping pill. I needed to make sure I could quiet my brain a little and get some rest.I had a long drive to prepare for.
I also wanted to wait to leave until after my doctor’s office opened the next morning so I could talk to him about a urology referral.
I needed to schedule a vasectomy ASAP.
October 31, 2014
I sighed as I pulled into my driveway.
One more night alone before I got to see Shelby after two and a half weeks apart.
She was flying in the next day and then we’d be driving to Palm Springs to celebrate my birthday. I was excited to show her the mid-century modern design capitol of the US,and I was surprising her with a stay at an atomic ranch rental. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction when she saw how authentically they’d decorated the place, complete with tiki bar and a backyard pool bedecked with Astroturf and pink flamingos.
Shelby left her job at Aspire in the beginning of the year, wanting to split her time more between her house and mine, and she didn’t feel like it was fair to her clients to be gone so much. It broke her heart a little, but she redirected and set herself up as an independent educator for ethics and safety in the spa industry. She started traveling the country, going to various salons and spas to teach professionals better ways to set boundaries and protect themselves. Between that and the modeling gigs she still took here and there she was often traveling more than I was. Sometimes that meant coordinating hotel meetups in random cities and our adventurous rendezvous would continue. Still “having fun.”
Over the last year, just as I predicted, we’d had some rough spots, but it all has been more than worth it. Shelby sometimes had a hard time opening up to me, or she’d be afraid of repercussions if she’d say what’s on her mind. I still found myself being overly precious with her once in a while, but we were getting there.
She still struggled with getting triggered in bed too, and it sometimes seemed to come out of nowhere. Luckily in San Francisco there are all manner of progressive professionals to choose from, and we were fortunate enough to find Jolie, our brilliant somatic sex therapist. She’s worked with Shelby one on one to help her find little pockets of trauma locked deep inside her body by combining purposeful movement with meditation. And we work together on ways to navigate anxiety and build on our foundation of trust. Shelby insists that whenever we want to nudge against the edges of our boundaries, we do it at my house. She said it’s the place she feels the safest. And she told me it was where she first realized she loved me.
Shelby has excelled at her occasional role as a Domme as I predicted, too. Again, mostly at my house, but occasionally, spontaneously other places too. It is important for her to have my consent—something she was never offered with Ari. She’ll ask, “Do you want to play?” before anything begins. My answer is always yes.Scratch that. My answer is always fuck yes.
She has gotten creative with our games because she can’t abide by most of the things that had been done to her. She can’t bring herself to humiliate or degrade me or call me names. She doesn’t hit. She doesn’t put her hands on my throat. It was gut wrenching to have to assume what she’d been through by learning what she wasn’t comfortable with, until finally she was able to tell me, too. And I was grateful to have been able to just listen, offer an ear and a shoulder and not feel the need to take it all on as my own.
When she commands me, she’s strict, but it’s undercut with a kindness. Like a teacher you respect—but a gorgeous one with a filthy mouth.
She can be physically forceful but follows with tenderness. An aggressive pull of my hair followed by gentle petting. Kisses planted on fresh bite marks. The sensory and emotional switchbacks melting both my brain and my heart.
Sex with her is always amazing, no matter what—she is like a master guitarist finely tuning and making the sweetest music with the instrument of my body. But when we play, she plugs me into an amp to tease out the distortion alongside the melodies.
One more day.
For my birthday, she’d been sending me sexy pictures all day long, making sure to have one on deck every time, I’d text her from a stop. It was the sweetest torture.
My phone dinged again.
Hey, have I told you Happy Birthday?
Only about 25 times today. 3. Just got home.
Another ding as another picture came through.
It was a closeup of her hand on her most sacred place, her middle finger disappearing inside.
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. Are you trying to kill me?
If you stop stalling in the driveway, you could come in and find out.
My heart began to thrum in my chest.
I walked into the house and saw the lights on. She was a day early and already inside. I looked at my phone at the three dots as Shelby was typing another text.
Hey Jake…
Wanna play?
FUCK YES
I made my way through the house and stopped dead when I reached the doorway to the dining room. The scene I saw made my mouth drop open.
“Good evening, Mr. Ford. Right on time for your appointment,” Shelby said with a grin.
She was wearing her Aspire T-shirt and a scandalously short skirt. She’d set up her portable massage table, and next to it was a utility cart with cloth strips, cotton pads, large tongue depressors, and a pair of tweezers.
And a pot of hot wax.
“I have you down for a Brazilian wax this evening, is that correct?”
Imagine being seven years old riding in the backseat of your parents’ car thinking they are driving you to school just like any other day. But then they roll past the school and announce that you are going to the airport instead because they are surprising you with a trip to Disney World. You are beyond excited, but you’ve never been on a plane before so you also feel a little like you might throw up.
“Uh, yes?”
“I’ll need a firmer confirmation than that, Mr. Ford.”
The ‘Mr. Ford’ business was doing things to me I hadn’t expected. “Yes, that is correct.”
“Excellent. I’ll need you to take off all your clothes and get on the table.”
“All my clothes?” I asked with an eyebrow arched.
“Yes. We wouldn’t want to get any wax on anything. This can get a little…sticky.”
I started to unbutton my shirt with my trembling fingers, not taking my eyes off Shelby. She moved over to the cart and while staring at me with her molten eyes, she pressed a button on her phone.
“How You Like Me Now” by The Heavy started to play over the speaker. She grabbed a stick and began to stir the wax, drawing some of it up and letting it drip down back into the pot.
I froze. Not only Disney World, apparently. I was also heading to the North Pole. Maybe a stop in Narnia too.
Somehow, I managed to get my clothes off and stand in front of Shelby.
“Oh, good. You’re aroused,” she said casually.“It does make my job easier, and it will be more comfortable for you as well. I am going to do my best to make sure you remain aroused through the whole service. Is that alright, Mr. Ford?”
I swallowed what little saliva was left in my mouth and nodded. “Yes.”
Before I got up onto the table, I blinked several times to make sure I was seeing correctly. Attached to all four legs of Shelby’s table were Velcro restraints.
I lay down and she grabbed the padded cuff closest to my right wrist. She trained her eyes on mine and paused, our wordless request for consent. I nodded.
When she’d finished securing my wrists and ankles, she moved up to my head and stroked my hair. She crouched closer to me as she lifted my head to fit a silky blindfold over my eyes. Her hot breath in my ear, she cooed, “Remember your safe word, baby.”
What happened next was a flurry and frenzy that I would be hard-pressed to be able describe in detail. I know that after The Heavy’s song that thrust me back to remembering her audition video—the first time I’d ever laid eyes on Shelby McGrath—the album “Playing the Angel” by Depeche Mode came on.
She touched my upper thigh to let me know she would be coming at me with the hot wax, mercifully easing me in. She laid an application across my skin on the outer edge of my pubic hair, and then pressed down the strip. She paused. Teased. Letting me stew in delicious anticipation.
The sharp sting of the rip pulling out deeply rooted hair stood me on edge enough, but then she grabbed the head of my cock and swirled her tongue up and down the underside of my shaft. I shuddered and arched up from the table. This was going to be beyond anything I’d ever experienced before.
“You have a remarkable cock, Mr. Ford.” She traced a finger up and down my stomach before gripping me firmly again. “Mmm. So luscious. And you are so fucking hard. It’s like waxing around a steel pole.”
I convulsed against my restraints.
She continued this ballet of pain and pleasure across my entire body. Dancing between the hot wax on my scrotum and teeth on my nipple. Skillfully ripping off a strip full of hair, then tracing the same spot with her tongue. Plucking at a hair with tweezers, then, from out of nowhere would come an ice cube. She’d glide it across my lips, down my neck, all the way down to my balls, soothing tender areas she’d waxed.
I couldn’t even venture a guess as to how long this went on. It had to have been at least forty-five minutes based on my vague awareness of the album that was playing.
I was in a state of constant tension, and I could feel my muscles starting to rebel. My nerves were a jangled mess, and I was beginning to unravel. Not being able to predict where she was going, what she was doing, winding me up tighter and tighter with all these brand-new sensations, I didn’t know how much longer it would be before I snapped.
I heard the floor creak as she walked up toward the head of the table.
“Open your mouth,” Shelby commanded.
I did as I was told.
She slid two of her fingers in, coated in her own sweet honey straight from the pot. I moaned as I sucked voraciously. Her voice velvet and deep, she said, “My God, Mr. Ford. You are making me so fucking wet. Do you like the way I taste?”
I nodded as I growled and groaned at the image of her playing with herself, dipping her fingers in and out while simultaneously playing me like Santana on acid.
I was slammed with my full body and soul’s desperate need for connection with her, and this was all she was giving me. I practically sobbed as she pulled her fingers out of my mouth, and along with them, my safe word.
“Halo!” I could feel the hot tears streaming down my temples. “Halo!”
Shelby responded in seconds, abandoning everything she was doing to attend to me. She put her hand over my eyes as she removed my blindfold to help me gradually adjust to the light. She removed my restraints and kissed my wrists and ankles. She came up to my head and gently brushed the sweat soaked hair off my forehead, planting kisses on my salty skin.
“Tell me what you need,” she said.
“It’s just too much. I…I can’t.” I panted. “I need…”
“Do you need to come now, baby?”
I nodded feverishly. “Yes. Please, Shelby. Please.”
Still peppering my forehead and cheeks with her kisses she said, “Oh, my sweet angel. You never, ever need to beg.”
I started to attempt to get up, desperately needing to be with her. Inside of her.
She gently placed her hand on my chest, pressing me back onto the table. “No, no. You stay right there. There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, I don’t think you have the strength.”
She was right. I assessed my physical state, and although I was still deeply aware of my nerves firing and my muscles twitching, it seemed as though my body had vibrated my bones into dust.
“Let me take care of you. But you will watch. This is how we stay connected.”
We were so in sync, especially in moments like these, she always, always knew what I needed.
She put a pillow under my head to allow me a better view.
She reached toward the table and grabbed a bottle of lube. My eyes widened and my core clenched in anticipation.
Don’t get me wrong, blow jobs are great, but Shelby’s “handy” work was incomparable.
She lubed up my entire shaft and smoothed a little over my balls to remove the last of the wax residue. I had no idea if she’d managed to finish my Brazilian or not, but I didn’t care.
She moved her talented hands up and down, around and over, with varying degrees of speed and pressure. All the pent-up energy of the last hour percolated and concentrated in the center of my body.
My breaths came in ragged pants. I gripped the edges of the table, my restless legs twitching uncontrollably.
All the while, Shelby made sure to look at me just as much, if not more than at what she was doing. She wore such a perfect expression of hot benevolence, my heart exploded with love for her.
She cupped one hand around my balls and began to undulate her fingers. My instinct was to close my eyes to keep them from popping out of my head as I began to brace myself for the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
But I kept them open, and I watched as she squeezed a little more lube onto her finger.
Continuing to stroke me with her other hand, she pressed the finger briefly onto my perineum and pulsed.
She smiled, watching me as she slowly breeched my back door. The tight ring of muscle relaxed and welcomed her easily, as she had visited several times before. As soon as she applied the slightest pressure to my ripe prostate, I split apart.
Every cell in my body exploded out from my center with a shock wave I was certain shook the house off its foundation.
I arched my back so violently that to a casual observer it might have appeared as though I’d been electrocuted.
I heard a sound, and while I was aware it had come from within me, it in no way sounded human. And it was loud and concerning enough that Lunchbox offered a few good boy guard dog barks from upstairs.
I felt Shelby’s tongue glide along my stomach and chest. My skin like lit up like a live wire, my entire being rocked with a violent spasm. I was still so on edge, but even in my fog, even with my eyes closed, I could clearly picture her licking every drop of spilled cum off my body. And it was an image hotter than sin.
I’d heard about this kind of experience with intense sensation play—where you transcend to another plane of existence entirely. I lost track of where I was, what day it was, even who I was. But there was still Shelby. She began rocking my body gently while compressing firmly on my legs, my hips and my arms, sensing the state of my nerves far too fragile for any light touch. She was my tether.
I could feel myself making my way back from my out of body experience and having a more than a little trouble with re-entry. I could not open my eyes. My heartbeat was still erratic. I erupted into chills.
Shelby, the reigning queen of aftercare, covered me with a blanket and brought a Gatorade with a bendy straw to my mouth.
After a few long, desperate pulls of the electrolytes my body was craving, I still couldn’t open my eyes. “God says ‘hi,’” I croaked, managing a weak smile.
Shelby laughed as she continued stroking my hair. Finally, I was able to open my eyes to look at the face of the love of my life. Her eyes widened and her face contorted into an “oh shit” expression. I tensed.
“What?” I asked.
“Oh my God. I think I broke you,” she said, chuckling.
“What do you mean?”
“Your eyes. You look like I did after I had Brody. I pushed so hard I broke a bunch of blood vessels.”
I smiled. That sounded about right.
An hour later we were sitting across from each other on the living room floor, and on the coffee table between us was the most beautiful cake I’d ever seen. Shelby had likely spent the afternoon in my kitchen making the small, flawless, chocolate mirror glaze work of art that once again, pained me to think about cutting into. Two candles, number shapes of a “5” and a “0” were flickering on top.
“Happy birthday, Jake. Make a wish,” Shelby said sweetly.
I smiled as I considered her request. I was already, without a doubt, a blessed man. I had my health, a beautiful home (actually, two beautiful places to call home), a great job I loved, family, friends, and the love of the most incredible woman on the planet.
That didn’t stop me from being greedy though, and I thought of the thing I wanted more than anything in this world.
I closed my eyes and blew out the candles.
May 2015
I knew I was supposed to be watching the stage, but I couldn’t tear my eyes off her . Every time I think Shelby couldn’t possibly become more beautiful, that I couldn’t possibly fall more deeply in love than I already am, she proves me wrong.
That day, I was utterly spellbound by her tears of pride.
After Brody’s college graduation ceremony at a large downtown auditorium, we all filtered out to the crowded courtyard to meet up with him. Shelby never let go of my hand. It was as if she wanted to reassure me that I was not an outsider––that I belonged right by her side at such a momentous occasion.
Brody decided to stay at Marquette one more year and pound out his MBA. Along with being crazy smart, I’d come to admire the kid’s ability to balance his drive and ambition with staying down to earth and having one of the wittiest, driest senses of humor I’d ever come across. He and I have had some deep and amazing conversations, and I see so much of his mother in him when we do. Brody is an old soul, but I’m sure much of the maturity he shows has to do with everything he’d gone through having a father like Ari and witnessing the turmoil in his parents’ marriage. I can’t begin to imagine all the ways he helped Shelby through those terrible years, whether he knew it or not.
Talk about a hero.
Of all his qualities, the way he fiercely protects and unabashedly adores his mother is what I admire most.
His approval was very important to me when Shelby and I got serious. Luckily, all it took was seeing how happy she was and how much I truly respected and cherished her. Once, out of the blue, he gave me a pop quiz—a little test to see how well I knew her, asking me what her favorite song was. When I was able to blurt it out without hesitation, almost before he’d finished asking the question, he was sold.
We all posed for a few pictures with Brody. His grandfather’s girlfriend, Linda, was hesitant to be included, but everyone encouraged her since she’d made David so happy over the past several months.He had asked his wife for a divorce a year and a half ago, and while I don’t know all the details about what happened there, the family has seemed much lighter as a result. Andrea, Dave and his wife Rebecca, along with David and Linda, have all been regular fixtures in our lives.
Everyone’s expression shifted when a slight, older woman approached us. She was wearing sunglasses and a constipated look on her face. Shelby was the first to acknowledge her.
“Marion! So glad you could make it.”
Marion breezed past everyone, offering subtle hello gestures, and making a beeline for Brody. She whispered something to him, kissed his cheek, and handed him a card. Once she turned back toward us, Shelby tried again.
“Marion, this is Ja––“
Before she could get my name out of her mouth, Marion was gone. I felt no sense of loss at not having met this woman.
In the afternoon we stopped by to celebrate the grand opening of Lyric’s new beauty boutique, Míra Míra . Darius and Randall were impressed by her vision enough to invest in this little space in the Walker’s Point neighborhood of Milwaukee, just south of downtown. There were shelves and shelves of makeup and skin care products along with a few makeup stations. Lyric called the style of the boutique “whimsical goth glam,” and it fit her perfectly. Black walls with gold accents, pastel rainbows alongside framed black and white prints of butterflies and skulls, and a unique “anatomy of a unicorn” illustration that Shelby had commissioned for her.
She was shedding more than a few tears of pride for Lyric, her daughter-friend that day, too.
Later I noticed Brody and Lyric having a moment off to the side, both smiling and blushing a considerable amount. I couldn’t help but grin as I noticed how much Brody’s body language reminded me of myself the day I met Shelby.
At the end of the evening, just the three of us, Shelby, Brody, and I were left sitting in the back room at the Japanese restaurant near our house after Brody’s graduation celebration dinner. Along with Shelby’s parents and her in-laws, Kendra, Gary, Darius and Randall were all able to join us, too. I have been so grateful for all these amazing people that came into my life as a package deal.
Shelby grinned and shook her head as I finished my third Sake. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, and she loves how “adorably handsy” I get and how much I fawn all over her.
And I that night I couldn’t stop staring at her.
I’d been considering broaching the subject of marriage with Shelby for some time, but I needed to take her temperature about it somehow before I’d ever propose. I worried so much about it triggering her. Lately though, it was all I’d been able to think about since I came across these traditional Celtic wedding vows that nearly made me cry with how perfect they were for us.
You cannot possess me for I belong to myself
But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give
You cannot command me, for I am a free person
But I shall serve you in those ways you require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand
I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night
And the eyes into which I smile in the morning
I pledge to you the first bite from my meat
And the first drink from my cup
I pledge to you my living and my dying, equally in your care
And tell no strangers our grievances
This is my vow to you
This is a marriage of equals
“I’m so full. How did I get so full on just rice and fish?” Shelby patted her stomach—her “food baby” as she liked to call it after a big meal.
“Oh, just one more for me.” Brody reached his chopsticks toward a few of the sushi rolls that were left.
“Which one is that again?” Shelby asked.
“Mmm,” Brody put his hand up in front of his full, chewing mouth. “Godzilla roll, I think? Crab, eel, spicy mayo…”
“You mean may-o-naise ?” Shelby asked with a smirk.
“Ha!” I laughed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Brody open his mouth to say something, but my tipsy ass was already babbling. “That’s funny. May-o-naise . That makes me think of Officer and A Gentleman. Did you see that movie? The guy’s name is Zack Mayo, and the drill sergeant makes fun of him by calling him May-o-naise . The scene in the rain? Where he is all…” I scrunched up my face to do my best Richard Gere impression, “’I got nowhere else to go!’” I laughed at myself and shrugged my shoulders. Damn Sake.
Brody and Shelby stared at each other with saucer wide eyes before breaking into huge smiles that turned into giggles. They have always had so many inside jokes and seem to know what the other is thinking all the time. At that moment, they were both laughing at me.
I didn’t mind.
“I’m sorry. I interrupted you, Brody,” I said to him. “What were you gonna say?”
Brody just looked at me, still chuckling, and shook his head. “Nah, man. I’m good. I’m really good.”
I laughed along with him, put my hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Man, I love this kid. It was honor to be sharing Shelby’s heart with him.
I heard a small gasp and I looked at Shelby. Her eyes were glassy, her fingertips were held softly to her lips, and the very tip of her nose had the subtlest tinge of pink. I knew these were happy tears, but I asked anyway. “Everything okay?”
She smiled and nodded, keeping her thought to herself.
We walked out to the parking lot and as I watched Shelby hug and kiss Brody goodbye, I felt my heart swell. I became a volcano of emotion about to erupt and I decided I was ready to take a risk.
After Brody got in his car, Shelby and I started walking slowly down the sidewalk. I tried to feign a breezy casualness as I asked, “Hey. Do you ever think about getting remarried someday?”
She stopped cold while my own momentum carried me four or five steps ahead. I turned back to find her caught under a streetlight, frozen, with an unreadable expression on her face. Her arms were hanging at her sides, however, no thumb grasped tightly in her fist.
I may have successfully broached the subject after all, even if it had momentarily shocked her.
She stared at me blinking rapidly until finally, her expression softened into one I was more familiar with. “You know, there are about a million reasons why I would never want to get married again.” She took slow, deliberate steps to close the distance between us, never tearing her eyes from mine. “And only one reason why I would.”
For some reason my brain went right to pragmatic things like tax breaks and medical decisions. “Oh yeah? And what would that one reason be?” I asked.
She ran a hand through my hair and smiled, lighting up my whole soul like a neon sign.
“You,” she said.
My heart began to jackhammer in my chest. I was not prepared. No meticulously planned elaborate gesture. No epic speech encompassing all the love and gratitude I had for her. No ring.
But it didn’t matter.
I held her hands as I got down on the ground. On both knees. She grinned and teasingly yanked on my hair. No part of our story had been conventional, and this proposal would be no exception. I firmly grabbed onto her hips to more securely anchor myself in the moment as I looked up at her luminous face. My technicolor angel.
I took a deep breath to try and keep my voice steady. “Shelby Anne McGrath, will you marry me?”
Shelby knelt down on the ground with me and held my face in her hands, smiling as happy tears filled the bottom of her eyes. “Fuck yes,” she said.