An Eye to the Future

"You've never had anyone tell you the truth?" Gus ventured, his brows as high as mine was low. "At least not for your sake."

"What?" I gasped. "For my sake?"

Gus nodded through a smile, then glanced over his shoulder at a shuffling and commotion within the house. "Looks like the game's over," he noted. Fishing into his pocket, he produced a business card and held it toward me between two fingers. "Why don't you give me a ring when you've calmed down. Your life isn't over, you know."

I passed a deep breath as my eye fell to the card, then snapped back to Gustav's still cheerful facade. My pride begged me to slap the tiny parchment from his hand, but another side of me, one I didn't understand, begged louder. Much louder. I eased my fingers to his hand and accepted the card. "I'll think about it."

"Please do," Gus whispered. "Now if you'll forgive me, I'm not really one for parties. I'd only planned to put in a polite appearance and have already stayed longer than I intended." He smiled before adding, "Not that I'm unhappy for having done so. It was a pleasure meeting you. Again."

I swallowed before admitting, "Same here." I watched him depart, realizing that I had already calmed down enough to want to call him.

Matt stayed after the baseball game, drinking beer and rehashing the tragic outcome of the contest. I knew he'd be drunk long before we departed. At least he wasn't an angry drunk; more pathetic than anything else.Pathetic, I mused.How poetic.

I found my way into the basement and turned on a small television. I even tried to watch it. My mind kept drifting to the brief conversation on the balcony. More than once I pulled the business card from my pocket and spun it amongst my fingers, as if I sought to confirm my memory was something other than a dream.

Why does he want me to call? I wondered.And why do I want to call so badly? I knew the last answer almost before I had finished asking the question.Because he didn't offer pity, I deduced with a nod.That's why. I glanced upstairs to the party, and Matt.

Gus is right, I admitted.I have let myself go. And not just my body. I've let all of me go. I've let an injury define who I am. I've allowed myself to become pathetic.

I waited until Matt had all but passed out, then bummed another jump-start and headed back to our ratty little apartment. Thankfully, my companion fell asleep during the trip. After we got home, I helped him into bed, then made my way to the sofa. But sleep would not come. Over and over, I played conversations in my head; the words Gus had spoken on the deck that night, and the words I would say over breakfast the following morning.

As I expected, Matt had a bit of a hangover as we met over two bowls of cereal. I let him moan about it for a few minutes, and even felt sorry for him long enough to consider prolonging what I knew I would eventually say. I might have done just that, but he left me the perfect opening and I took it before I even realized I had done so.

"What you want to do today?" Matt asked.

"Break up with you." Ok, so maybe it wasn't the perfect opening. But I took it anyway.

Matt finished crunching his Cheerios before asking, "What?"

"I don't want to be your girlfriend any more."

Matt's eyes blinked as his diminished faculties came to terms with my meaning. "Why?"

"What do you bring to this relationship?" I asked. "Bills, mostly. And what do you need me for? Someone to ridicule, near as I can tell."

"You mean more to me than that!"

I guffawed. "So being someone to ridicule is part of it?"

"No, that's not..."

"And the other part is blowjobs, right?"

"C'mon, baby," he pleaded. "Don't be like this. Did I say something last night when I was drunk? Whatever I've done, I'll make it up to you. I promise."

I shook my head. "This isn't about last night. This is about today, tomorrow, and every day after that. You just aren't the person I want to spend my life with. And you're never going to be."

Matt's head vibrated in a fierce shake. "No. I can change. I can be who you want. I'll..."

"No," I interrupted. "You can't. You can't change who you are for me. You have to do that for yourself, if you want to. But you like who you are, Matt, so why change?"

The man's brow dropped so low they all but covered his eyes. "So you don't want me to change?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I'm going to change."

"Ok?"

"And the person I change into," I concluded, "isn't going to be interested in you."

"No, wait," Matt whimpered. He proceeded to beg, whine, and snivel for the next several hours. I felt sorry for him as I came to understand he really did harbor some feelings for me, at least more than I had ever realized.

Looking back, it's a sad reflection on the person I was, but if Matt had just treated me a little nicer I might have settled for him. Even now I cringe when I think about how close I might have come to squandering my life with him.

I moved out and got my own apartment. Money was tight, but not as tight as it had been with Matt. I fixed my car, at least to where it ran when I turned the key. I started eating better. I found a stylist instead of a barber. And I joined a health club. Weeks passed.

Watching my flab disappear and my muscles return was a thrill, as were the looks I got from some of the men at the gym. But there were always those other looks too; the ones when guys first saw my disfigured eye and then snapped their attention elsewhere.

At home or work, I found myself frequently fingering a dingy business card that got grayer each day. I recalled the expression Gus had had on his face the first time he had seen mine. He hadn't looked away. He hadn't even blinked. I knew he had seen my scar, and seen past it too.

But I wasn't sure what he had seen past it. I couldn't imagine anyone that handsome would settle for me. As the weeks became months, I thought about calling more, but was further from actually doing so. I'm not sure I would ever have called but for a package I discovered in my mailbox one afternoon.

I inhaled a double gasp as I read the name on the return address. I ripped the carton open right there in the corridor of my apartment building. Within the outer cardboard box was a smaller case, much like those meant for a piece of jewelry. I think I could hear my heart pounding as I popped open the tiny container.

Inside I saw but a tiny piece of black cloth. Grasping the fabric, I realized at once that it was silk, but only after I held it before me and the string dangled, did I grasp what it was.

Wearing, I am certain, a look of sheer bewilderment, I looked back into the box. Inside there was only another business card, identical to the one I already possessed; except this one was still white.

I retreated to my apartment, none the less confused by the gift. If it had come from anyone else, I might have thought it some cruel prank, but my heart knew Gustav was deeper than that. I rushed to the washroom and tried it on.

The instant I looked into my mirror, I knew it was the best thing anyone had ever given me. My good eye welled so fast the image before me was at once a blur, but I knew what I had seen: a woman who wasn't ashamed of a bit of misfortune. She wasn't a pathetic outcast and she would not accept being treated like one.

The woman I saw was self-assured, even expectant. The shiny jet-black eyepatch was a perfect match for her flowing and equally shimmering locks. She didn'tsettle for anything, and that included bad boyfriends or bad breaks. Instead of pretending her eye was still there, she announced to the world that it wasn't, and that she didn't need it. Anyone could tell just by looking at her that she liked herself. She was mysterious. She was sexy. She was confident, perhaps even proud. She was happy. And she wasme!

Blinking back the tears, I flew to the phone. With shaking hands, I looked about in search of the new business card. I smirked as I realized I had left it in the washroom. Reaching into my pocket, I retrieved the grey one and dialed the listed cell phone number. Then I but closed my eye and started a prayer, one I never finished.

"Hello?"

"Hi," I began with a gulp. "It's Becky. I wanted to thank you for the gift."

"I knew you'd like it, although I was becoming a tad anxious since I mailed it four days ago."

"Oh," I half-grunted through a grin. "I don't check my mail everyday. Sometimes I forget for a week. Bills mostly, you know."

"Yeah, I know. So, when can I see you in it?"

My mouth fell as I inhaled a sharp breath. I replayed his words in my head,When can I see you? Not if,when. Gus was right, of course; confidence is attractive. "You want to have dinner sometime?" I suggested.

"Sure. When?"

With a broad grin my voice assumed a husky whisper. "Now."

"Now?"

"Yes. Now."

I hung up. I clenched my fists and closed my eye as a shiver traversed my body. The next instant I was in full flight toward my bedroom or, more precisely, my bedroom closet.

At once my eye found the green dress that matched its own color. I had not worn the garment since before the accident. It was the only piece of clothing I had kept from that part of my life. I'd worn it once, to a wedding.

I experienced a moment of anxiety as I donned it, but then recalled I'd had to squirm into it the first time too. Smoothing the fabric, I turned to my full-length mirror. The air within my lungs exited en masse as I saw myself.Wow! I thought.You're beautiful again. Then I smiled and corrected myself.No, not beautiful. Confident.

I prepped for a dozen or so more minutes before I was at last satisfied, then moved to my living room. Being too wound to sit for even a few seconds, I paced while I waited. At what seemed like ten trips per minute, I must have traversed my modest living room several hundred times. As the first half-hour of my pacing passed into history, my anxiety peaked.

What were you thinking? I scolded myself.I shook my head as I recalled my mandate, "Now?" Way too demanding! I shook my head and sighed.And what if he's expecting to go to Taco Bell? You're going to look like such an idiot!

Several minutes later, as I continued to berate my arrogance, the doorbell rang. I all but jumped out of my dress. Closing my eye, I took a deep breath and counted to three in my head.Calm, I counseled as I made my way to the entryway.Walk slower!

I forced a smile upon my lips as I pulled the door open. The smile turned genuine as I beheld Gustav's equally aglow face in the corridor. My eye moved, taking all of him in a pass. Any fear I had harbored regarding his dining intentions evaporated as I beheld his conservative grey suit and necktie, the latter being a subtle blue that matched those intoxicating eyes.

"Hi!" I all but gasped as I realized he was really before me.Calm! I instructed myself again; but again I did not listen.

"Hello," Gus replied with a nod. "Such a pleasure. You look great. But, of course, you always did." His hand moved from his side. My gaze dropped to meet it. Clasped between two fingers and his thumb was a single yellow rose.

My smile broadened as I looked back to his face. "Thank you," I enunciated in a soft, deliberate tone. "But why not red?"

Gus offered a subtle shrug. "Red on the first date? Inappropriate, don't you think?"

My eyebrows shot upward. "That would be like starting with a big, sloppy, kiss, wouldn't it?"

Gus issued a meek nod. "I should think so."

I heard a subtle, snarl emanate from my nasal passage as I took my next breath. "Let's find out," I whispered.

My hand leapt to his tie, yanking his face down as I stretched upward to meet it. As our lips collided, my free hand rushed behind his head. My fingers roamed his locks as my mouth roamed his lips. My passion surged. With a firm grip on his curls I pulled, pressing our mouths even tighter as tongues joined lips in exploration.

A pair of protracted minutes later, each mouth reluctantly released the other. I moved the tip of my nose to the tip of his. "Still think a big sloppy kiss is an inappropriate way to start the first date?"

Gus gave the slightest nod, still keeping our noses adjacent. "Definitely."

"You like inappropriate?"

"Yes."

Releasing his tie, I slid my palm over his chest, first feeling the taut muscles beneath the shirt before again grasping his neckwear. "You want to be more inappropriate?"

"Definitely."

I began to backpedal, dragging my quarry into my den by the makeshift leash. Kicking the door closed as he cleared it, I stopped and began to loosen his neckpiece.

"Oh," Gus murmured his blue orbs wide. "That inappropriate. But, I, uh, have a reservation..."

"Yes," I interrupted. "You sure do. Right here." I grabbed his hand and moved it downward, then clasped it with my thighs.

We gasped a breath in unison as we each sensed the warmth of the other through the fabric. Without a word our lips rushed to meet one another again. At the same moment our hands sprang to cradle the other's face. Then, as our bodies began to writhe in sync with our lips, those same hands began to disrobe the other.

Soon, Gus had my dress as loose as he could get it and his shirt hung in a similar fashion. We broke the kiss and proceeded to throw our own clothes off; getting out of my outfit proved much easier than getting into it.

Wearing but my underclothes, I pounced as Gus stepped out of his pants, initiating a third kiss. Putting my hands to his shoulder blades, I began to walk backward at a deliberate pace down the short hall toward my bedroom, drawing my lover after me.

Gustav's hands roamed my torso as we moved, settling on the small of my back and the clasp of my bra. The garment fell loose on my shoulders as we cleared the threshold. I stopped. Moving my hands from his back, I held them to my sides and allowed him to slide the bra from my body.

No sooner had the fabric cleared my flesh than my hands found the elastic of his boxers. Breaking our kiss, I squatted, taking the garment with me as I dropped. His fully rampant cock sprang into view, bobbing just as it pointed skyward.

I inhaled a breath, emitting another snarl as I did so. I put my nose to the edge of his sac, then ran it up the side of his shaft, nuzzling his manhood in much the same manner as a cat does its owner's leg.

On the third pass, I lingered near the tip savoring the scents of his masculinity. My mouth fell open. My tongue ran a circle around my lips before I moved them to engulf his head.

But Gus moved as well, turning sideways just enough so that my face was near his hip. I suspect a mournful expression must have gripped my features as I looked up.

Gustav's countenance was anything but sorrowful as he stooped beside me. Unsure why he had rejected my overture, but confident he was not rejecting me with it, I waited for him to make the next move.

He moved his face adjacent to mine and began to nuzzle my cheek in the same manner I had nuzzled his cock. On pass number three, he thrust his hands under my horizontal thighs.

Standing, Gustav lifted me, and then carried me to my bed. Still bearing my weight he crawled upon the mattress and placed me in the center. His hands slid to my sides and grasped the edge of my panties. I arched my back, assisting in my own disrobing.

He flipped my underwear upon the floor beyond my footboard before returning to kneel beside me. During a single deep breath, his eyes roamed the length and breadth of my exposed form. With a smile, he leaned again toward my footboard and brought his nose to my big toe.

Gus proceeded to draw the tip of his nose along the side of my toe, across the soft and sensitive upper surface of my foot. I could feel the slight breeze of his breath as he moved past my ankle. I tried to lie still. My body shivered anyway, though not from any chill. I had never felt so warm, so alive.

The trek continued up the side of my leg, then onto my abdomen. I expected his light touch to tickle as he ran along the edge of my torso, but it did not. My chest heaved with a massive breath of restrained desire as his nose ran beside my bosom. I hoped he might there linger, but he moved on to my shoulder, and then neck, onward at last to my ear where he paused to whisper, "You"

Then he was gone. Back to my toe, for another such journey. I moved my hands to my breasts, kneading my flesh as his second traverse of my body continued with an almost maddening slowness. I believe it was a full five minutes before his lips were once again at my ear. He blew a gentle stream of air therein before a single syllable followed his breath, "are"

I inhaled a breath of my own as I realized what he was doing. The next five minutes were twice as long as the previous as I waited to hear the final utterance.

When his nose reached my ear for a third time, he ran the tip around the curve, then repeated the circuit; making three full revolutions before finally moving his lips to my ears. I closed my eye. I felt his breath upon my lobe. Still he waited. I wanted to scream. Then I felt the slight rush of air as he inhaled just before he whispered, "complete."

My eye flew wide.Complete? I had been anticipating many possibilities. Beautiful. Captivating. Gorgeous. Lovely. Perhaps even perfect. But complete? I passed shallow breaths for a few seconds as I tried to imagine if I had somehow misheard him. Then his meaning struck me. My chest surged upward as I breathed, and my passion surged with it.

"No," I whispered as I turned to him. "I am missing something."

Gustav's index finger moved up my cheek, across my temple, taking the band and my eyepatch with it. My focus followed his hand as he carried the tiny black cloth and band, hanging it upon the post of my headboard.

A smile covered his face as he turned his attention back to me. Hovering inches over my face, his blue eyes seemed to pulse as he looked down. "Surely you don't mean you are missing this?" His face moved towards me. His lips found my forehead. A light kiss just above my missing eye, then his lips leapt to my cheek. Again, another kiss at the lower edge of my scar.

All the muscles in my body tightened as his lips moved to where my right eye had once been. I could not see them, nor feel them much, as he planted a short kiss upon the tangled mound of flesh above my empty socket.

"No," Gus whispered as he moved again to lie adjacent to me. "You do not need that to be complete."

"You're right," I whispered, wrinkling my nose. "I don't need that." I rolled to my side. My hand darted, fingers wrapping around his still erect member before he could move. He tensed, then jerked; then smiled. I squeezed, just hard enough to where he tensed again. "This is what I'm missing."

"Oh," Gus began. "Doubt not it is yours. I am all yours." He leaned, bringing his lips to my bosom, suckling on the soft flesh above my areola.

"No," I insisted with a snarl. "I don't want any more foreplay."

Gus stopped suckling. I could hear naught but his breathing as he moved his mouth from his bosom to my ear. "But I want more," he whispered.

Through just parted lips I inhaled a brisk breath as he began to suckle my earlobes. What's hotter than foreplay? A man who wants foreplay, that's what! My loins clenched, begging to be filled, as he continued to nurse upon my ear. I could feel my pussy; the heat, the wetness; I was sure it would turn into a river soon. My mouth fell open. "Please," I gasped between breaths. "I need you in me."

For a long second, Gus seemed to ignore my plea. He continued to suckle my earlobe. I felt his touch on my abdomen, a palm sliding over my skin, then across my bushy mons.