The Knowing Ch. 04

This story is non linear. You'll find out bits and parts of this story in no particular order, I just thought it might be interesting.

*****

NOW

JAAN

In the stark afternoon light of the room, Jaan spread her legs apart and slid his fingers into her bare vagina. The skin there was smooth, unbearably so and he ran his fingers over her lips, avoiding her clit, but dipping toward her vagina every once and a while retrieving her wetness and brushing it all around. He could smell the sweet tanginess of her pussy as she opened her legs wider and inched her body toward him moaning softly.

"Jaan," she whispered.

"Hmmm?" he hummed in her ear, pushing her hair back and kissing the outer lobe. He slid one finger in her vagina and she bucked her hips upward. He slid another in, and then one more until 3 of his large fingers where settled in her pussy and her legs were spread wide across her mattress. He pumped his fingers in her curving them upward and increasing in speed as she moved her body along with him.

"Uhhh," she moaned deeply and then made a guttural noise in her throat. He leaned his head down and kissed her tan and freckled breasts. He could see slightly the blue veins underneath her skin and he trailed them with his tongue down to her nipple. He circled it and then clamped his mouth down on it, licking and kissing it wetly, biting down occasionally.

"Oh, yes, keep going." She said and he moved his hands faster. Kissing down her body onto her flat stomach and pausing his mouth right above her pussy. He moved his fingers faster, and faster, as she moved along with him. Her pretty plump breast bouncing above her. He lowered his mouth down onto her clit and sucked the hood softly.

"Uhhh!" she screamed, and he sucked, moving his hands rhythmically. She was moaning in earnest now, and he removed his fingers putting even more emphasis on using his mouth to suck on her clit swirling and licking her while moving his tongue in and out of her vagina. He could feel her clit getting larger and larger in his mouth, and he moved his tongue quicker, tasting her, knowing that she would cum at any moment.

"Jaan keep going, please" she begged, "please." Jaan dipped his two fingers into her vagina again and moved them in and out painstakingly slow. She grabbed his hand and moved it faster, he followed her lead moving his hands in and out of her as the wetness from her vagina spilled down his fingers and onto his wrist. She was so wet. Jaan had never been with anyone that got as wet as her. Fucking her was crazy, he could easily slide into her body with little to no foreplay, but he loved getting her super ridiculously wet before fucking. He watched the wetness of her pussy ooze out as he fingered her, leaning forward to put his mouth on her pussy making her jerk and move her pussy closer to his mouth. She was getting tense, soon, she would cum, and then the real fun could begin.

"Jaan, fuck, Jaan, I'm almost there, please" Marlena, was vocal in bed. She screamed, hollered, said filthy, rotten, sometimes downright strange things to him which Jaan never really knew what to say back. He liked her dirty talk, he just never really was one to do it himself.

"Jaan, oh my god, my pussy, ughh!!" She screamed out. He could feel her pussy tensing under his fingers and he retrieved his hand moving his thumb to her clit and pressing down hard, applying a pressure so intense she started to cum immediately. She screamed and he watched her body jerk up and down on the bed, her dark honey curls covering her freckled face and deep hazel eyes. Jaan smiled, pulling his hard dick from his boxers, putting on a condom and slipping into her drenched pussy as she continued to writhe. Her entire body jerked up off the bed.

"Ahh!" she screamed, her legs shaking uncontrollably as she felt Jaan slip himself easily inside of her. "Jaan" her tone was shrill, but Jaan had already set to work. She came again as Jaan began fucking her slowly. He knew this drove her nuts. It drove most girls crazy, and for a brief moment he remembered the first time he had done this to someone, and whom he had done it with. As quickly as the memory jumped into his head it disappeared, and Jaan focused fully on Marlena, gathering up her shaking body as she came again a second, a third, a forth time in his arms as he pounded her over and over again.

"Fuck Jaan! Fuck me!" She said, and he kept at it. He started to feel it now, the tightness that started in his ass. He was going to cum. Marlena's body was electric, she was cumming intensely now, as Jaan's cum filled up the condom, he could feel her still cumming. As he pulled out of her, sliding the condom off of his dick, and wrapping it up with paper, she was still shaking uncontrollably on the bed her eyes closed.

They were both sweating and Jaan was incredibly tired, but he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her. "What the fuck Jaan" she said, she was laughing slightly trying to hold her legs down as she rocked back and forth on her back on the bed. "What did you...?" she laughed lowly.

Jaan ran a hand through his short dark hair and looked over his shoulder back at Marlena as she lay on the bed. She looked back at him and smiled but was clearly drifting off to sleep.

"Where are you going?" she said.

He stood searching for his boxers on the ground and putting them on, locating his pants, shirt and jacket too.

"I've got to go back to work, it's only 2:30 I still have a meeting this afternoon."

"Don't go baby" she cooed, but her eyes where nearly closed. Jaan leaned over and kissed her on her forehead, the heat from the sun, and from the fact that he had just fucked her made her skin hot to the touch.

"I'll be back tonight." He said to her, but she was already asleep.

Jaan put on his pants, shirt, and jacket, then headed to the bathroom, splashed some water on his hair, raked it into place then splashed water on his face, brushed his teeth and headed out the door, slipping his feet into his ratted old Van's Sk8 hi's. He was exhausted. He had aimlessly walked the 2 miles to her house from the office, but decided to take the subway back to his job. He had been gone from the office since 11 am. As Editor in Chief he knew he could pull bullshit moves like that but he almost never did. Since getting the head job a year ago, after putting in 5 years at the publication, he had barely missed a day. However, the past 3 months he had decidedly eased up on his insane schedule. Or rather, Marlena had urged him to ease up on the work, well after... after getting engaged.

As he stepped outside the apartment door Jaan pulled his jacket tight around his body. It was sunny as hell outside but there was a still cool April breeze. Jaan was glad for the shearling lining of his light brown suede coat as he walked the few feet to the subway stop, around the corner. Jaan did not want to go to work. If he could choose, he would be sleeping, in bed, naked, next to Marlena, underneath 3 or 4 heavy comforters. But he had to go back to work. One of the newer editors had hired a photographer to shoot a piece and Jaan wanted to meet them before he signed off on it. He wasn't quite sure yet if he trusted the new editor's eye. He hadn't hired her in the first place (a staff editor had) but was down to get a different perspective; he just wanted to make sure everything was cool. Plus this story would be the lead in the next issue, part fashion, part documentary; he had to make sure the photographer checked out.

Inside the subway station was warm and Jaan was glad to feel a bit of heat again. He stood near the edge of the platform with his feet slightly over the yellow line and thought of Marlena. They had been dating for nearly 2 years. It was Jaan's longest relationship ever, and he couldn't help but admit to some part of himself that he had never expected to be in a relationship this long nor engaged, but here he was. Twenty-nine, engaged to be married, solid job, nice apartment with no roommates (in NYC at that!), all in all a promising future ahead of him. He had no idea how he felt about it. It wasn't that he didn't love Marlena, he did, truly and deeply. After years of being convinced that it wouldn't be possible. After years of listlessness, searching, groveling, and a lot of indeterminate fucking, he had finally settled with the one woman with whom he felt the most sure with. He never doubted Marlena, who she was. She was solid, beautiful, and ambitious. She loved Jaan. Their entire relationship had been unbelievably reassuring. She wanted a man in her life. Someone to shop with, someone to watch movies with, to lay in bed with, to share her days with. She wanted picturesque vacations, and weekends spent at coffee shops, on hikes, or at tiny new restaurants. She wanted all the things that Jaan had convinced himself that someone like him couldn't give. Now, he gave her all those things, happily. They spent holidays with her large family in subtly matching sweaters. Jaan bought smart and thoughtful gifts, he cut his hair and helped her mom in the kitchen. With Marlena, Jaan felt totally capable. A feeling he still hadn't got used to.

As the subway pulled to a stop Jaan thought about this strange capableness as he stepped through the doors and sat down, the car was oddly empty for 3 pm on a weekday. The thing was, he thought, Marlena needed things and she expected them from him and he got them done- always. She expected him to spend Saturdays and Wednesdays with her and he did. She expected him to go on dates with her friends and their boyfriends and he did. She expected him to love her and he did. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her expecting these things of him. Actually she had every right to, but Jaan could never get used to this- it had always unsettled him.

Jaan got out at his stop and rushed out of the subway car toward the exit. Marlena's place and he had no clue what time it was but the meeting was supposed to start at 2:45 and he left her place at a little past 2:30.

"Hey man!" he called out to a skinny white kid with a shock of platinum hair. The kid raised his chin up at him.

"Time?" The kid pulled out his phone and showed it to him, it read 14:58. "Thanks," Jaan said and the kid nodded his head rushing up the subways steps and out into the natural light. Jaan followed him, hit with a bit of cool air on his way up and started the 6 blocks to his job at a light sprint. By the time he got to the building the big office clock at the entrance downstairs read 15:04, and he ran through security with a nod, heading straight for the elevators. He really hated being late, but he was late now and there was nothing he could do about it. When the elevator doors opened to his office he could hear someone playing rap music, saw some people carrying boxes of pizza down one side of the corridor, and smelled the faint odor of bleach, which he knew he would have to investigate later.

He was pretty lucky to work here. He had hounded for this place for a job for a year before he got one, and when he finally got it he seriously put himself to work, groveling as an intern in nearly every department of the magazine and working his way up, that was 6 years ago now. He still almost couldn't believe it. The magazine hadn't been much when he joined, the publication itself was barely six years old and had 5 people working on it total, but they were dedicated and unbearably cool. Jaan had studied business in school, for no other reason than his basketball coach had told him to when he didn't know what to major in. He spent most of college, playing basketball, reading the news, fucking girls, and getting deep into nyc underground subcultures. He had one goal after college, to work at this magazine, and now here he was.

He walked down the hall to his office and looked through the glass-partitioned walls of the open floor plan at all the people working, writing, editing, collaborating, and brainstorming. There were 26 people that worked in the office permanently with 35 or more freelancers all over the world.

"Where are they at?" Jaan asked his assistant as he rounded the corner to his office. He was sitting on a cushioned couch pushed up against his office's glass window typing on his laptop.

"Danielle is with them now down the hall I think, they're just going over some stuff."

"Ok, did you prepare the cuts for the meeting, so we can talk about what we need?"

Septeen pointed at the desk inside his office never looking up from his laptop. "Yup on your desk, even pulled some tear sheets of their work from other publications so you could check it out. A small bio and an interview too."

"Of course you did," Jaan looked at Septeen who continued typing. He chuckled lowly and then turned into his office.

Septeen was a Dominican kid from the Bronx who used he/him and they/them pronouns. He was tall, fat, and socially awkward, with an overly feminine face and hands. He almost never looked Jaan or anyone directly in the eye, a problem they were working on and he was slowly starting to train his gaze closer to the face. His voice was staccato, everything coming out exact and sharp, it took a bit to get used to his voice and way of speaking. Jaan was almost positive that Septeen wasn't his real name. He was young, obviously questioning his gender and sexuality, and dressed mostly in large, witchy, black gothic rags. Jaan hadn't spent much time with queer kids in his life, but he liked Septeen. Jaan felt it was his duty to look out for him, help him a bit in the world, even though he was undoubtedly weird as hell.

"I don't know girl, I mean he should be here right now" he could hear Danielle Chu's loud voice carrying through the office. He turned around to look at her and his voice stopped immediately in his throat.

Was that?

Danielle shielded his view of the person as they walked down a side glass corridor and into the snack room. He could see both the top of Danielle's inky black head and the head of another person, not quite as tall as Danielle but with dark brown hair that looked to be loc'ed.

It couldn't be.

This hadn't happened to him in years. 1 year to be exact. However it used to happen to him all the time. He spent years chasing the back of heads that he thought were hers. Running after people in super markets, down streets, in nightclubs, once on a golfing range. Men, women, and children of all sizes, shapes, and sometimes, different races, that he thought might be her, and never, ever were. Sometimes it would happen weekly. Suddenly, he'd be following someone home and apologizing profusely. He spent years waiting for her to show up, there was no way in hell this could be her now. Not now.

He walked into his office, and went over to the window and stared out into the skyline. Breathe. Breathe. It had been a long time since he felt one of these sudden bouts of anxiety, but he was sure it wasn't her.

"Hey Jaan, we just got a bit of a snack, sorry we're late." He turned around, and there, standing next to Danielle was Santos Brown.

SANTOS

He looked the same. He was older for sure, but just the same as she remembered him. His dark hair had been cut and dyed a strange shade of black, that she realized was really navy blue when it caught the light. His face had a new scar on it, below his lip. He had on a white t-shirt, black pants and tattered shoes. His skin was a little pale. He had filled out, a little. Now slightly muscular and built, like a soccer player, in a way she hadn't remembered. He looked exactly the same to her, and she felt standing in front of him as she felt that day she opened the door to him when her brother was gone, and the same as the last day she saw him 11 years ago.

Santos stuffed her hands in her coat pocket and turned away from him. He was shocked. She wasn't so much. She had had nearly a week to prepare for this moment. Once she found out she had been booked for the job she looked up the editor in chief of the magazine and there was his name in bold print. It was time. Santos had figured, briefly, or obsessively, at other points in her life, that they would be forced to meet again.

She fantasized about it, how she would look, how he might look, what would she say, what would she wear, how she would make him feel, how he might react. Some days the fantasies where all about vengeance, other days forgiveness, most days, love. But now as she stood in front of him, in white pants, a white t-shirt torn at the collar, scuffed desert boots and her favorite bleu de travail jacket, she couldn't remember a single one of the scenarios she had imagined.

The truth was, that a week ago, when she had found out she was going to see him again, she had actively forbade herself from thinking about it. Keeping herself busy with editing, visiting friends, watching tv, reading, shooting, working on projects, and going to the movies. She had avoided the thought of the meeting so intensely that she had managed to get dressed that morning without a single thought in her head. It wasn't until she had left the house for her morning break from editing that she remembered her meeting that day, that during her meeting that day, she would see Jaan. She did not panic, she did not change her clothes. Instead she decided she would walk. She spent hours walking around her neighborhood, walking across the bridge, walking toward her afternoon meeting thinking, wondering- remembering.

She thought about everything. From start to finish. The first time in her bedroom. The last time in his. The secrets they kept. How impossibly close they had become, how much she loved him, how much she knew he loved her. How much they explored, how tightly she closed him off once it all had ended. Then she thought about their time apart. The 11 years she had gone without seeing him. How at first, she tried to convince herself that what had happened between them was merely obsession. How else could you explain two teenagers becoming so close, so sexual, and keeping it all a secret? They had obviously been obsessed with the secret and not each other. There was no way they could've actually loved each other.

But then... she remembered those nights in his room, when he would help her with homework. How we would let her bath with him and brush and braid his long hair. She remembered the feeling she had when he would climb into her bedroom window late at night, his face freezing from the bike ride over. How she would warm his face up with her hands while he fucked her slowly. And she remembered the crazier times, fucking in the library during study hall or him tying her to a tree in her backyard in broad daylight and eating her out, them lying to their parents about where they were all weekend. It had been all a little bit too crazy for them not to be in love right? And how do you top something like that?

At 18 years old she was all too aware that no one would ever satisfy her like Jaan.

She spent 5 crazy years fucking her way through anything and everything, trying to forget him. That coupled with her increasing interest in politics and movements toward black liberation, she needed to forget that she had ever loved and allowed a white boy to do the things to her body that he did. Joining the Black student union at her college and organizations in her college town, and photographing the black experience she felt... well guilty. After Jaan she fucked, only men of color, mostly black, and by doing this hoped to write the wrongs of her heart. Failing miserably when she still found she touched herself to memories of her and Jaan fucking in his car or in the bathroom at school or worse. The worst being when she would come to the memory of them in her bedroom while he whispered to her boldly and unashamedly that he loved her.

And then she met Peter. And he had fixed that whole thing... right?