Promises Pt. 01

This time together in my loft is about as perfect as I can make it. I know it's going to look good when I review the video later to do the self-critique of my performance. We move together quite well. Both our bodies are as perfect as nature, diet, exercise, and (in Destinee's case) surgery can create. The backdrop is romantic and sophisticated. People would pay money for this video, but like all the ones I've shot, I'll erase it just as soon as I'm done learning from it. I would never let anyone else see this and I don't want to take unnecessary chances that a girl might find out she's being recorded.

Destinee was sated by the time I got done pleasuring her orally, and she's never been able to climax during penetrative sex anyway, so I don't need to show off my stamina. Still, intercourse has always been my gold standard when it comes to sex, and I want it to last. We go for a while in missionary position, then we shift to our sides. I spoon her to my chest and enter her from behind. In this position I don't need to worry as much about going too deep, and I get the added pleasure of being able to play with her breasts. I even reach down and diddle her clit as I thrust in and out. It won't get her off, but she seems to like it.

I really enjoy doggy style with Destinee because of the magical sight in the mirror as her breasts swing fore and aft. Cowgirl position is nice too because, again, I have wonderful access to those breasts. I take advantage of that and suck her nipples.

We end back in the missionary position. The insulating effect of the condom is slowing me down, but I can still feel my climax building. Soon, I'm almost there.

"I'm about to come," I murmur.

Her subtle body language says, "It's about time," but her voice whispers "Oh, yeah, baby. Fill me deep inside." Of course the only thing I'll be filling is a reservoir tip, but I try anyway, shooting gout after gout as she cries out in simulated pleasure. I can forgive her for faking it. After all, in a way I'm faking this whole relationship. Still, anyone watching would be impressed.

I remain still inside her for a moment, looking down at a woman whom I couldn't even have imagined talking to a few years before. Her eyes are closed, and her amazing chest is heaving in mock exhaustion for the sexual marathon I've supposedly put her through. Still, I'm amazed at how far I've come in my quest.

The moment is over quickly, though, and it's time to take care of business. I give her one last kiss, then get up and head for the bathroom. I quickly dispose of the rubber, then clean myself off and slip into the boxers and T-shirt that are my sleeping clothes on nights when Destinee is over.

I move quickly and efficiently, but by the time I get back, she's already in her sweats and under the covers, her back turned to me. I generally don't wear clothing unless there's an actual need to, but Destinee only gets as naked as she feels she has to be. I slip into bed, spooning with her momentarily and kissing her when she turns her head to me.

"Thank you," I say. "That was wonderful."

"Mmm, I liked it too," she coos. "Goodnight Peter."

"Goodnight Destinee."

By day, I'm a solitary man. I prefer to spend my active hours by myself, but that all changes when it's time to sleep. I've always hated being alone in bed. I would love nothing better right now than to hold Destinee all through the night, but I reluctantly give her the space she needs by retreating to my side of the big bed. She sleeps way too hot for me to be in contact with during the night anyway.

Normally, we'd go to sleep now, but there's the matter of the Mexican vacation. I still haven't figured out the perfect way to broach it, but she'll get upset later if she finds out I didn't tell her right away. I'm going to have to take my chances.

"I had an interesting thing happen to me today," I start.

"Really?" She doesn't turn toward me.

"I won a vacation."

She turns now, so I tell her the story of how my name was called for the contest, which she hadn't even heard of, not being a fan of classic rock. I tell her how I had to borrow a phone from a woman who had first appeared to be a child. Destinee is as excited as I've seen her in a long time.

"We're going to Mexico!" she exclaims, but then pauses. "This nude beach thing. You don't have to get naked, do you? I am not going to take all my clothes off."

"I'm sure they wouldn't make you leave if you insisted on wearing a swimsuit, but there's another issue."

"Huh?"

"I promised the girl that I'd take her with me if I went."

"You WHAT?" Yeah, my calculations of her likely reaction were spot on.

"I'm not actually taking her," I say quickly, "but it was the only way she'd agree to let me use her phone."

Destinee relaxes a little. "Well, she'll have a hard time enforcing that promise. You're the one who won the contest, so it looks like she's just shit out of luck."

"Look, Destinee, my cashflow is tight right now, but I can still scrape up enough to try and buy out her half. I did make a promise."

"To a stranger, and it's not legally binding," she says with authority. Destinee is a big fan of Judge Judy.

It's tearing me up inside having to disagree with her. Yeah, I've learned the techniques and can do it well when I need to, but I positively hate arguing. Still, this is important to me.

"I don't break promises, Destinee. Ever. Like I said, I will try to buy out her half of the vacation, but if she won't sell, we're not going."

She looks at me with outrage in her eyes. "God dammit, Peter! You'd let her fuck you over like this? Fuck me over like this? Are you honestly going to put her in front of me?"

Ouch. But still, a promise is a promise.

"Look, Destinee, I'm sorry I brought it up before I talked to her about it. Let's just let it drop until I work it out with Kira."

"Why would you work it out with the radio station? Your problem is with the little bitch!"

"No, I mean her name is... well, she said her name was Kira," I say lamely. "I know she was messing with me."

"So you don't even know her real name?"

This is starting to feel a lot like some of the conversations I had with my mom when I was a kid. Not a good thing.

"No, I don't know her name, but I'm a man of my word."

"Bull fucking shit you are," Destinee screams, throwing off the covers and jumping to her feet. "You're actually the most dishonest man I've ever met! All the shit you pretend to be, it's a goddamn lie! The clothes, the attitude, the shabby-chic loft, the tough-guy act; it's nothing but a huge facade."

I get to my feet as well, on the other side of the bed. This is quickly becoming my biggest nightmare. I've worked so hard trying to build myself up to be something more than what I feel like inside, but now it turns out that even someone as shallow as Destinee can see right through me?

"Hang on there just one second, Destinee. I love you and-"

"Don't even try and hit me with that word. You don't love me. You love the idea of me. I figured that out not long after we met. You're pretending to be some kind of fucking James Bond, but I'm tired of pretending to be your Bond Girl. Call me a cab, we're through."

With that, she pulls her small suitcase out of the closet and begins to transfer her things from the drawers of the dresser that I'd set aside for her use.

I suppose a man who's as smooth and confident as I've pretended to be could get her to calm down and then convince her that she's going off half-cocked. I might actually be able to pull that off, but she's seen through me now, so I want her gone at least as much as she wants to leave. I make the call.

I get dressed as she packs and pulls her shoes on, then silently carry the case down the front stairs for her. The cab honks and she stomps by me, out into the cold. I follow, opening the car's door for her, putting her case in the trunk, and then handing the driver a couple of twenties.

"Destinee," I say, before closing her door for her, "I'm sorry I-" My apology gets cut off at the knees.

"I'm going to tell everyone what you're really like," she snarls. "I found that huge collection of self-help books under your bed. I even read some of the notes you wrote in them. You're pathetic. And all those sci-fi books? Just how big a geek are you? You're a phony and a fraud. By the time I'm done, you'll never get another date in this city!" With that, she slams the door and the cab drives away.

I review the video, then lie awake all night, methodically analyzing the things that went wrong this time. My biggest mistake, of course, is that I didn't thoroughly vet my approach before telling Destinee about Kira. I realize now that I should have called Kira the moment I got home from my run and offered to pay her for her half of the vacation. It would have been so simple, but I'd allowed myself to get pulled into that engineering issue instead.

Then there's the matter of what Destinee found under the bed. Having her see those was bad, but I'm not going to get rid of them. The self-help books were an integral part of my improvement process, while my science fiction collection (with everything from Isaac Asimov to K.T. Zwilling) had helped me survive my adolescent years.

Destinee would often sleep late on her off days while I went down to my shop to get an early start. She'd gone snooping, obviously, and I'd been careless. A locking mechanism should be easy for me to retrofit, and it will be in place well before another woman finds her way to my loft.

I suppose the biggest problem now is what Destinee is going to say to our mutual acquaintances. This could really damage my reputation. On the other hand, I was warned when I started asking about her, before our first date, that she had a reputation as a bit of a flake. I probably just need to get the word out that we broke up after she flipped out, and that now she's just spreading her lies out of spite.

Of course, there's still the business with the vacation. I figure I could use a week away to clear my head and warm my bones, and the sooner the better. I've never been to Mexico, or any other tropical sort of place for that matter, but it sounds like just the ticket. I promised Kira I'd take her with me when I went, and with Destinee gone for good, that's now an easy promise to keep. Frankly, though, I can't imagine that she'd actually be willing to risk sharing a room with me.

In the morning I call the travel agency that put the trip together. I'm pleasantly surprised to catch someone in on a Saturday. Nora sounds like she's had a two-pack-a-day habit for thirty or forty years, but the radio station has passed along my info, so she was expecting my call. She congratulates me on my good luck and I thank her for saying so. I don't mention that this "good luck" has already cost me the most beautiful woman in Minnesota.

"Would it be possible to fly out tomorrow?" I ask. "I know that's kind of short notice."

"It certainly is, but with everything being electronic these days, it might be possible. Let me check on availability. It's not always easy this time of year since we're in peak season for Mexico. I'll call you back in a few."

"You're in luck," Nora tells me fifteen minutes later. "There was one room still available and I've put a temporary hold on it. The only issue is the flight. There are several seats available on the last plane, but no two of them are together and the flight gets into Cancun after midnight on Monday morning. On the positive side, it's a direct flight."

"Would it be possible to upgrade to business or first class?" I'm not a snob, but economy class seats are almost impossibly small for someone my size.

"Those are full. I can only get you coach."

Well, if there's no option, I'll bite the bullet. "Book it," I say. I'm not especially motivated to check with "Kira" to make sure that's okay with her. If she can come, fine, otherwise, well, I can't be held responsible if she can't tear herself away.

"Great, I'll make the reservations. What name should I put on the other ticket?"

Good question. "I'm not certain how she's going to want her name to appear," I say casually. "Can I have her call you in a few?"

"Okay, but I can only hold these for about twenty minutes."

"Gotcha."

I call the number from memory and "Kira" answers on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Peter Malakhov."

"Uh..." There's a long pause. Well, it sounded like the same girl I'd talked to the day before, but maybe her little sister has picked up the phone, because whoever this is, she doesn't sound like she was expecting my call.

"I'm the guy who-"

"I remember you, Peter. I just wouldn't have expected in a million years that you would actually call me."

"But I promised I would," I said, caught by surprise and a bit bewildered.

"Yeah, but what's a promise worth these days? Besides, I figured you'd know I was just screwing with you."

Oh my God. I broke up with the hottest woman in Minnesota to keep a promise to a girl who hadn't even considered it a promise in the first place? I consider hanging up on Kira, or whoever she is.

"You still there?" she asks after I've probably stewed for five or ten seconds.

"Yeah, I am." My mind is racing now. I'm going to Mexico on Sunday night in any case, but is there someone else I'd rather take with me? I know a lot of people, both guys and girls, who'd love a free vacation, but I'm forced to admit to myself that they're more acquaintances than friends. If I called and offered, they'd wonder why I didn't have any real friends to go with me.

"So, do you still want to go?" I ask.

"Don't you have any friends who want to go?" Yeah, thanks. I can tell she's asking innocently and that she's graciously letting me out of my promise to boot, but it still stings.

"Look, do you want to go or not?" I ask. I try to keep the irritation out of my voice, but I'm not certain I've succeeded.

"Well... sure."

"You'd have to be willing to share a hotel room with me." That should really scare her off.

"This would be us going on a vacation together," she says, "but not together, right?"

"Yeah, we'd have separate beds and we'd each do our own thing."

"No taking advantage of me?"

"I promise I'd be a perfect gentleman."

"When would we leave?"

"Tomorrow night, getting back next Sunday.

"Wow, short notice." I'm about to growl that she can take it or leave it, but she speaks before I can. "I guess I'm up for that."

Just like that? She can just drop everything and leave the country for a week? Then it hits me that I'm doing the same thing. I'm self-employed, though, so I have that kind of freedom. It comes in exchange for all the hassles that working for yourself brings.

"Are you sure this will be okay with your folks?

"I can guarantee that they won't give us a hard time about it."

"Do you have a passport?"

"Of course." Then she pauses for a moment. "Look, Peter, thank you. It's nice to know there are still people out there who take their promises seriously."

"You're welcome." I don't know what else to say.

"What do I need to do?"

I give her Nora's number at the travel agency, explaining that she needs to call right now. "I'm on it," she says.

"I can give you a ride to and from the airport if you'd like. Your house is on the way."

"That's okay. I've got it covered. I'll meet you at the gate."

Okay then. I wasn't really looking forward to meeting her folks anyway. "So now that we're going on a vacation together, can you tell me your real name?"

"Just call me Kira. Thanks again, Peter. See you tomorrow night." With that, she hangs up.

I'm a wreck for the next day and a half, both not being able to wait for, and at the same time, dreading this trip. I cut myself off from outside contact, mostly staying in my shop. I only leave to pick up my tickets and an information packet from Nora, then snag a few items that I've read are necessary for this kind of vacation.

It's like I'm living the life I'd been frightened I would live if I didn't work hard to improve myself. For now, I'm enjoying my solitude, but even with my nature, I don't want to be alone forever, especially at night.

End of Part One

Next: Part Two - Getting Naked with KIRA