- -
Summer, 2004
Everything had been perfect. Rory remembers closing her eyes for a few
seconds in order to find out if it was all a dream. When she opened them, there
was Dean, staring back at her, his love evident in his facial expression. He
really did love her. He really did care for her. And she loved him, too. It was
perfect.
Dean's hands were skilled that night. Rory could tell as Dean carefully set
her down on her bed that he had done this before. Their lips were fused together
in a searing kiss, and through it he gracefully guided her body down into
position below him.
They took their time that night, as if by stretching out the act of love they
could postpone what would come of it afterwards. Rory didn't think of Lindsay as
Dean's tongue explored her mouth. Didn't think of her innocently sitting at
home, waiting for her husband to come home from "working late". She didn't think
of herself as "the other woman". She was just Dean's partner in this dance, this
dance of theirs that was love.
Her first boyfriend. Her first love. Didn't it make sense that her first time
coincided with those other firsts? How many girls can say that their first time
was truly with a boy who loved them, and they loved back, with just as much
heart?
Dean was quick to get Rory's dress off of her. It just melted from her body,
and he tossed it aside to flop noiselessly on the floor. She laid there, more
exposed than she had ever been in her life, and stared into his eyes as he
stared into hers. She thought about how her plain white cotton underwear and bra
certainly weren't what she would prefer to be wearing, but never in a thousand
years did she think that morning that she would be in this position, on this
night.
"Sorry for the lack of lingerie," Rory said quietly.
"Don't apologize," said Dean, almost in a whisper. "You're a conservative,
sensible girl... I love that about you. You're beautiful."
"Thank you." It seemed not enough, to just thank him for calling her one of
the greatest adjectives a girl can be described as. But it was all that was in
her head to say. She was so caught up in how his eyes were devouring her small
breasts that lay beneath the cotton cover, and her flat stomach, that rose and
fell along with her breathing. She could hear every breath she took. The sound
was magnified in her head as Dean stood up and started undressing himself.
Rory felt inadequate. She felt that she should be the one taking off his
shirt, his pants, exposing his red boxers, his toned arms, his long legs. "Dean,
should I - - "
"Shh," he said. "Stay where you are."
She did as she was told, admiring his chest as Dean slinked back onto the
bed, back on top of her. He placed his mouth over hers once again, kissing her
softly, gently. Coaxing her into this world of sex, a virgin taking the big step
into what one can never undo, can never take back.
Rory's brain was trying to work, trying to weigh the pros and cons of what
she was doing at that very moment, but it was all a jumble inside. All she could
seem to think of were Dean's lips on hers, and the skin of his chest pressed up
against hers. Any intellegent thoughts were immediately smothered by his kisses.
Dean broke away to ease Rory up along her back, to reach the clasp of her
bra. As it snapped undone, he asked, "Is this okay? Do you want this?"
"Yes." It was one of the quickest responses she had ever given. It came out
of the part of her that didn't need to think, just needed to feel. And
she wanted to feel him.
With careful hands that had obviously done this before, Dean eased Rory's
arms out of her bra straps and then tossed it off into the pile of clothing that
was collecting on the floor. Rory noticed how it didn't make a sound as it
landed, just as Dean didn't make a sound as he stared down at her. She could
feel herself blushing, her cheeks turning pink, almost from embarrassment. She
had never let anyone see this much of her before.
And then Dean's staring ceased and Rory gasped as she felt him take a pink
nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it, then bit it lightly, making Rory jump,
and making him grin as he left her breast to give her another kiss, this one
harder than the ones before. It was as if he was building a crescendo with his
kisses - - upgrading them with every new set.
Rory felt Dean's hand traveling to her other breast, which he cupped, and
then played with the nipple using his fingers. He tweaked it, then ran his thumb
over it as if to massage it.
"Oh, Dean," Rory breathed, "Wow." The sensations she was feeling coursing
through her body at such an intimate touch were boggling her mind.
Dean gave her a smile that looked a bit like a smirk. "We're just getting
started, baby."
Rory held her breath as Dean left her upper body and began to pull her
panties down her legs. "Wait - - stop," she said, something inside of her
telling her this was wrong. This was going too far.
"Are you okay?" asked Dean, concern written all over his face. "Do you want
to stop?"
She thought about it. She loved him. "No."
Pulling her panties all the way down to her feet, Dean threw them off into
the distance, making Rory giggle. "What if I can't find those panties when I
need them again?"
"Oh," said Dean, feeling stupid. "Sorry." He added his laughs to her giggles.
Then Rory calmed down as Dean lowered his body down to the level of her
bottom half. He spread her legs apart a little, and then ran a finger lightly
between her folds. Rory gasped again, and pushed her hands down into his hair,
running her fingers through it.
Rory could feel Dean's arousal rising against her lower leg. And she could
hear him groan with pleasure as he said, "Rory, you're so wet. Like you're just
waiting for me."
"Maybe I've been waiting for you for a long time."
"Maybe."
Suddenly, without warning, Dean stuck his finger inside of her. Rory grasped
his hair a bit tighter, continuing to run her fingers through it. Watching the
reactions on her face, Dean began to pump that finger in and out, in and out.
"How does that feel?" he asked, curious.
Rory could barely breathe. "Good. Good. Don't - - don't stop. More."
Dean speeded up the pumping of his finger, then added another finger to it.
Rory was flabbergasted. She had two fingers inside of her. A total
invasion of privacy. But a welcome one.
Rory moaned. "I've, I've never felt like this, in my, entire life," she
gasped out between quick breaths. "Touch me some more?" she begged.
With his free hand, Dean reached up to grasp one of her breasts, and squeezed
it a bit, then started working on the nipple again. When he pulled that hand
away, and pulled the fingers out of her as well, Rory pouted in protest, until
she felt a new, wet sensation creeping into her. Dean's tongue.
Her eyes glazed over. Dean could feel her body readying itself for her first
orgasm. He pulled his tongue out of her, and swallowed her juices, sliding them
down, down into his throat. "Rory," he started, his voice asking something of
her, "I don't know how much longer I can wait."
"What?" Rory was barely coherent. It had felt so good, and now she was at a
loss. "Oh." She looked at his boxers, saw the bulge in them. "Oh."
She helped Dean slide off his boxers, and off they went into the pile of
clothes quickly gathering on Rory's bedroom floor. "I have protection," he
revealed, reaching for his pants. Pulling them onto the bed, he took his wallet
out of one of the back pockets, and inside was a condom.
"So that's where guys keep them," marveled Rory, her heart still beating
faster than usual.
Skillfully, Dean rolled it onto his erection, and then was quick to start
sliding into her. He slowed down as soon as he reached her entrance. Rory's face
contorted in pain. "Does that hurt?" he asked, and then realized how stupid a
question that was, considering her face.
"But it feels good, too," she said, her breath quickening. "Keep going."
Dean did as he was told, pushing himself fully into her. Pausing there, he
looked into her eyes. "I love you," he mouthed.
"I love you, too," she mouthed back.
Dean started to pump, then, in and out of her. Slow at first, then faster and
faster. Rory moaned his name, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him in
closer, deeper.
"I can't last much longer, Rory," Dean said in between pumps. "God, you're so
beautiful."
Rory pulled his head down to hers, and kissed him deeply, running her tongue
over his perfectly straight white teeth. They were both moaning when she pulled
away, and then Dean exploded, as Rory's vaginal walls caved in on him. She was
tight, so tight. She felt herself taken off into an oblivion, where there were
stars and rainbows, and gorgeous sunsets. She was taken into a world of
perfection, where there was no Lindsay, no nay-sayers. There was just her, and
Dean. Them. Together.
She laid there, her small body shuddering in waves.
Dean started to pull out of her, but Rory stopped him. "Just wait, just for a
minute," she pleaded. "I want to remember how this feels. You, inside of me."
Dean tenderly kissed her nose, and encircled his arms around her body. Rory's
arms found their way around his shoulders, and she held him to her, tightly, so
tightly. She wanted to take a snapshot of this in her brain, to remember always
and forever.
When Dean did pull out of her, he laid beside Rory, and they talked about how
it was perfect. And her world was, in those moments. "Do you regret it?" he
asked after a long pause of just staring at one another.
Summoning up all the truth in her heart, Rory replied, "No."
Dean smiled at her then, a smile so genuine. And Rory wanted to cry, because
everything was so beautiful right now. Dean's face, his arms around her, the
mess of clothes on her bedroom floor. It all represented what was the perfect
first time for her, and she loved it for being that way.
And then Lorelai came home. The two heard the front door open and shut, then
heard Lorelai's voice carrying itself through the house into Rory's room. In a
panic, both teens shot up out of bed and hurriedly re-dressed.
"Your shirt," Rory remarked hurriedly, "It's inside out."
"Oh, damn it." Dean meant to take it back off and put it on the right way,
but Lorelai was coming closer to the room and there was just no time. He and
Rory rushed out into the hall.
Rory made up some silly lie about Dean needing to borrow something, and then
he left. She watched, her eyes closing in on the tag of the inside-out shirt
that stuck out as if to be a reminder that what she had just done wasn't done
the right way. She felt a slight moment of a sinking sensation, like she was
falling inside of an elevator, moving to the next floor down. But there was
nowhere to fall here. There were just her mother's prying eyes as she stood and
thought of that inside-out tag.
As it had always been, Rory was then honest with her mother about what had
happened. Her reward for that honesty was to be called "the other woman". "I
hate you for ruining this for me!" she shouted as she headed outside, grabbing
her coat on the way. Immediately she took her cell phone out of her pocket and
dialed Dean's number. A familiar voice picked up on the other end. Lindsay.
All of a sudden, it all sank in. She had sinned, committed adultery. She was
a terrible person. She hung up the phone, wishing for that voice she needed to
hear right now. Then she fell to the stairs, and her tears fell with her, from
her eyes that glittered in the moonlight. Her mother, the voice of reason, had
taken this happiness away from her, and replaced it with this feeling of
tightness in her chest that made it hard to breathe. But still the tears fell.
Lorelai, who had followed her outside and had been standing on the porch,
leaning against the railing with her arms crossed in front of her chest, finally
decided to lower her slim body down next to Rory's on the step, silent,
apparently not knowing what to say. How odd, for someone who always had
something to say.
Scooching closer to Rory, Lorelai put a comforting arm around her daughter's
shoulders. Rory shuddered from the contact, and ripped her body away. She didn't
want to be touched by someone who didn't understand. Someone who was supposed to
forever be on her side. Someone who was judging her, that very second.
She didn't need another greater-than-thou speech, not now, not ever. As if
her mother had never made a mistake. As if her mother wouldn't have done the
same thing.
Lorelai wet her lips and cleared her throat, which was unneeded, but was
something to do, a reason to stall the words that were going to come forth.
"Kid... I'm sorry."
Sorry about what? Rory wanted to ask. That your daughter's a whore, that
she's just made the biggest mistake of her life, that you called her on it, that
you ruined something which was so beautiful before?
Rory wanted to ask.
Instead she stayed silent, stopping her tears that turned from warm to cold
on her cheeks. A long, excruciating moment stretched by while the two Gilmores
sat wrapped up in that silence that so rarely touched their lives.
Finally, Rory spoke. "No, you're not."
Lorelai reached out to smooth Rory's hair back, tucking it behind her ears.
Some hair stuck to Rory's face, wet from the trails of tears. Rory didn't care.
She jerked away, tearing her face from Lorelai's hand. She didn't want to be
touched right now.
Gulping down something invisible in her throat, Lorelai asked, "Do you want
me to leave?"
Again, Rory didn't say a word. She quieted the sobs that so badly wanted to
come out, and stared at her shoes. She noticed a scuff mark on one of them. Of
course. Something else that had gone wrong. Another uncomfortable silence
stretched on into eternity, carrying the Gilmore girls along with it. Of all the
years, all the times that Lorelai had been there for Rory, had been her
lifesaver in a sea of the scary parts of the world, none of it mattered at that
moment. Lorelai couldn't save Rory this time. This was something Rory had to
feel and go through on her own.
Rory raised her head to stare straight forward, into nothingness. She lifted
her head further to see the moon, and remembered how she used to think it was
made of cheese. Because Lorelai had told her so. Six years old, and wanting to
eat the moon.
She couldn't eat now if she tried. A Gilmore, not able to eat. That was
something for the record books.
Lorelai stared at Rory while Rory stared at the sky. She didn't utter a
"Yes," didn't mumble a "No." Just sat, waiting for the world to crash down on
her shoulders, waiting for the universe to swallow her whole.
Taking a deep breath in, then letting it out, Lorelai took the hint, and rose
to her feet. She didn't really have time for this, anyway. She had to get back
to the Inn, to her guests. To Luke. Something it looked like she'd have to
figure out on her own.
Rory heard Lorelai's trudging footsteps along their front porch, then the
opening and closing of the front door. Lorelai grabbed the stack of CDs, without
bothering to look at them to see what they were, not really caring right now,
and headed for the back door, not having the strength to walk by her hateful
daughter right now. She thought of telling Rory where she was going, that she
was leaving, but didn't have the strength for that, either.
She had to get back to the Inn. She had to get back to work. She had to smile
for her friends - - for her "customers", and pretend that everything was okay.
She couldn't let anyone know that everything in the world had just gone wrong,
been turned upside down.
Rory watched from the porch step as her mother's car pulled away from the
house, and headed back for the Inn. She wanted to scream. The silence that had
overtaken her was ready to break now, ready to let a fresh flood of tears soak
her face. What had she done? What had she done? What was she going to do
now?
She was alone then. And she could finally release the ocean that wavered
inside of her. She sobbed openly, anguished. Just absolutely dying inside. She
had never cried so hard in her life. Her throat hurt, it stung, it burned, from
all the sobbing, all the tears. A continuous river of sadness, coming out from
within. She sat alone on a step, crying, aching, wanting to scream. More alone
than she'd ever felt before. Just minutes ago, she had been together, tied to
another with love, in ecstasy, happy. Happy. Now she was more than sad. So much
more. She was empty.
The darkness of the night closed in around her, the stars not shining
brightly enough to shed light on her body that was crumbling in pain. She sobbed
for the hundredth time, hugging herself with arms that had no strength anymore.
She couldn't tell if the night was warm or cold, but was glad to have grabbed a
jacket on her way outside, glad to have something to cower in, to cover up her
body that shook and shook. Shivered. Not from cold on the outside, but from the
icy, chilled veins within.
She thought of all the things she'd done, and couldn't undo. And then she
sobbed harder, hugging her arms to her body tighter. Such a tiny little body.
Tall, but gracefully thin. She sniffled, and let her hair fall into her face.
Rory was suddenly certain she was supposed to feel sorry. She silently hoped
to herself that Lindsay and Dean didn't have Caller ID. The memory of the phone
call from minutes ago was something she would never forget. Dialing Dean's
number, and hearing Lindsay pick up the phone, her voice unsuspecting,
nonchalant. And what did Rory say? Nothing. Nothing. There was nothing to say,
not at that point. But maybe she should have told her. What would Lindsay have
done? What would she do when she found out?
The night around her was silent, her wails the only thing that could be
heard. She cried for Dean, she cried for Lindsay, she cried for their marriage
that she might have just destroyed. She cried because her mother wasn't on her
side, but she was right. She cried because she didn't know if anything would
ever be able to fill that empty part of her, the hole in her heart, again.
- -
to be continued...
