Page 56
Story: Someone Like You
“You can’t,” I replied softly as I picked at the little nubs on the soft cotton blanket.
Casimir reached underneath the blanket and grabbed my foot. My eyes closed at the touch of his firm grip and the pressure he exerted on the sole of my foot with his thumb.
“Talk to me, Giselle.”
I sighed. “My late husband, Elijah.”
When I opened my eyes again, Casimir’s gaze was on me expectantly.
“Because he died?”
“He didn’t die. He took his own life.”
Briefly, but only for a short second, Casimir’s thumb stopped, and then he went back to work again. I told him the story, every little detail until I finished.
“He didn’t love me enough to stay,” I whispered. I hadn’t realized that a tear had fallen until he reached his finger out and swiped it away.
“Or he didn’t love himself enough to let your love be enough,” Casimir whispered.
I smiled briefly at him.
“What I mean by that is, more often than not, we take the actions of our loved ones personally. But it isn’t always about us. I think we believe that it is because we live in such a self-centered, superficial world. Sometimes, people drown so deeplyin their depression that they can’t focus on anything else beyond the blackness. It swallows them whole, and all the while they’re drowning, they don’t see the hands reaching out to help them. It’s a spiritual battle. It was never a you-battle.”
I smirked. “How did you become so wise, sir?”
“I had a friend who suffered from depression back in high school. He attempted it, but his family found him in time.”
“Wow. Are you still in touch with him today?”
“JR.”
My eyes bucked in my head. “That confident, bold, charming man suffered from depression and tried to kill himself?”
“He did. I missed all the signs.”
“We often do,” I whispered. “I felt like I failed Elijah. I knew he suffered from depression, but I never would have expected him to do that. I’m a trained and licensed psychologist, and I failed my husband.”
The tears started back up again, and Casimir reached over and removed the blanket from my legs. He pulled me onto his lap, held me, and rocked with me. He whispered “shh” the entire time that he rubbed my back.
When I finished crying, I looked up at him and asked, “What did I do to deserve so much pain, though, Cas?”
He wiped my face and stared into my eyes. Before he could answer the question, I pressed my lips against his, sampling what I didn’t need to sample, taking what wasn’t mine to take, and indulging in the sinful pleasure known as Casimir.
I moaned as I twisted in his lap until I straddled him. My hands went to his face, and I held him in place as though he might pull back from the kiss. My hips had a mind all their own as they worked in time to a beat that only existed in my head.
My need for him grew stronger with every pass of my hips and provoked Casimir to place his hands there. He gripped me tightly as if to secure me to him and thrust upward. I could feelhis erection through my cotton night shorts, and I wanted no distance between us.
Every thought about my license and the repercussions of what would happen in the morning passed away. I only cared about the moment, the here and the now. This precious, stolen moment was the only thing that mattered.
Just because Casimir had divorced Beth and moved out didn’t mean that she was no longer in his heart. Tonight, that was a risk that I was willing to take as his large, firm hands moved from my hips, slid underneath my top, and stretched across my back.
Heat stole up my body, and I arched my back and pressed my breasts against him. His hands circled to the front, and large, gentle fingers rubbed back and forth in a slow rhythm across my nipples, bringing them to life.
His erection prodded me, begging for entrance. My hands reached down and tugged at the waistband of my night shorts until I pulled them over my ass. I lifted slightly, and Casimir moved in to take one tightly budded nipple into his mouth.
The warm heat of his tongue and lips almost caused an instant explosion in my body. I was surprised that I didn’t leak out on him immediately. His hands helped me get out of my shorts and panties. I climbed off him, and my chest heaved as I struggled to breathe through the intensity of the moment.
Casimir stood and removed his basketball shorts before he leaned around me and grabbed his phone from the table.
Casimir reached underneath the blanket and grabbed my foot. My eyes closed at the touch of his firm grip and the pressure he exerted on the sole of my foot with his thumb.
“Talk to me, Giselle.”
I sighed. “My late husband, Elijah.”
When I opened my eyes again, Casimir’s gaze was on me expectantly.
“Because he died?”
“He didn’t die. He took his own life.”
Briefly, but only for a short second, Casimir’s thumb stopped, and then he went back to work again. I told him the story, every little detail until I finished.
“He didn’t love me enough to stay,” I whispered. I hadn’t realized that a tear had fallen until he reached his finger out and swiped it away.
“Or he didn’t love himself enough to let your love be enough,” Casimir whispered.
I smiled briefly at him.
“What I mean by that is, more often than not, we take the actions of our loved ones personally. But it isn’t always about us. I think we believe that it is because we live in such a self-centered, superficial world. Sometimes, people drown so deeplyin their depression that they can’t focus on anything else beyond the blackness. It swallows them whole, and all the while they’re drowning, they don’t see the hands reaching out to help them. It’s a spiritual battle. It was never a you-battle.”
I smirked. “How did you become so wise, sir?”
“I had a friend who suffered from depression back in high school. He attempted it, but his family found him in time.”
“Wow. Are you still in touch with him today?”
“JR.”
My eyes bucked in my head. “That confident, bold, charming man suffered from depression and tried to kill himself?”
“He did. I missed all the signs.”
“We often do,” I whispered. “I felt like I failed Elijah. I knew he suffered from depression, but I never would have expected him to do that. I’m a trained and licensed psychologist, and I failed my husband.”
The tears started back up again, and Casimir reached over and removed the blanket from my legs. He pulled me onto his lap, held me, and rocked with me. He whispered “shh” the entire time that he rubbed my back.
When I finished crying, I looked up at him and asked, “What did I do to deserve so much pain, though, Cas?”
He wiped my face and stared into my eyes. Before he could answer the question, I pressed my lips against his, sampling what I didn’t need to sample, taking what wasn’t mine to take, and indulging in the sinful pleasure known as Casimir.
I moaned as I twisted in his lap until I straddled him. My hands went to his face, and I held him in place as though he might pull back from the kiss. My hips had a mind all their own as they worked in time to a beat that only existed in my head.
My need for him grew stronger with every pass of my hips and provoked Casimir to place his hands there. He gripped me tightly as if to secure me to him and thrust upward. I could feelhis erection through my cotton night shorts, and I wanted no distance between us.
Every thought about my license and the repercussions of what would happen in the morning passed away. I only cared about the moment, the here and the now. This precious, stolen moment was the only thing that mattered.
Just because Casimir had divorced Beth and moved out didn’t mean that she was no longer in his heart. Tonight, that was a risk that I was willing to take as his large, firm hands moved from my hips, slid underneath my top, and stretched across my back.
Heat stole up my body, and I arched my back and pressed my breasts against him. His hands circled to the front, and large, gentle fingers rubbed back and forth in a slow rhythm across my nipples, bringing them to life.
His erection prodded me, begging for entrance. My hands reached down and tugged at the waistband of my night shorts until I pulled them over my ass. I lifted slightly, and Casimir moved in to take one tightly budded nipple into his mouth.
The warm heat of his tongue and lips almost caused an instant explosion in my body. I was surprised that I didn’t leak out on him immediately. His hands helped me get out of my shorts and panties. I climbed off him, and my chest heaved as I struggled to breathe through the intensity of the moment.
Casimir stood and removed his basketball shorts before he leaned around me and grabbed his phone from the table.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90