Thick--EXCLUSIVE Taryll Jackson Erotica

Recently, I've noticed a rather disturbing trend within the 3T/Jackson Family fan community in regards to my favorite member of the band, Taryll. As of late, it has become quite obvious that he is not as...shall we say svelte as he once was, many moons ago. And while I have absolutely no problem whatsoever with his minimal “weight gain” many fans have begun to refer to him by the 'other' F-word: Fat. With the idea of how a negative body image can slowly eat away at a person, devastating their mentality, I penned this story. Not only is it steamy as is my trademark, it is also heart-wrenching and eye-opening. Celebrities are human, too. 

"Thick"

A Taryll Jackson Erotica By: 

MJsLoveSlave 

Tarzana, California

March, 2015

“...Ah....Freak Out!...Le Freak, c'est chic!...”

With the sounds of seventies' funk blasting so loudly through her hot pink earbuds it should have deafened her, Ali Meyers was rounding her final lap down the expansive nature trail that curved and waved behind her apartment complex.

The day just didn't start off correctly if Ali didn't get in her hour-long morning jog.

While most people rolled out of bed, reaching for a mug of coffee or catching a 'trenta' from Starbucks on the run, Ali did the running herself.

Indeed, anyone taking a moment to even glance at the young woman knew she lived a healthy lifestyle and had for some time.

Ali, who would turn thirty in December of that year, had a look to her that belied her age by at least a decade. Of average height, she possessed a trim, toned figure that was easily the envy of all her girlfriends. Tall and lean she was with strong legs, at the moment flexing and rippling with each stride she took along the thin paved path, covered in charcoal grey leggings. And while her pale pink top was slightly oversized, so that one brown shoulder was exposed, it covered a flat tummy, smallish bosom and delicate arms.

Her face, bare except for a slicking of Chapstick and a coating of mascara to naturally, long black lashes, was haunting and beautiful. Her eyes were wide and slanted, born brown but made an alluring, and believable, shade of blue thanks to her colored contact lenses, a small ski-jump of a nose over full, plump lips that most girls needed collagen injections or over-lining tricks to achieve, was what she woke up with each day.

Her hair, parted on the right, woven into two French braids that circled her head and formed a wide bun at the base of her neck started jet black before finally lightening into pinkish blonde, or “rose gold” highlights as her hairdresser had called it.

A few yards behind her, struggling to keep up, a small, brown and white, English Cocker Spaniel trotted after Ali, tongue out, yipping blissfully at his master.

“...Ah...Freak Ou—Ping! Ping! Pong!”

Ali slowed and came to a halt, her dog circling her feet and sniffing at her pink cross-trainers as she pulled the zebra-print smartphone from her hip, her music interrupted by the text-message notification.

Hovering over the glowing screen, she swiped and poked at the device a moment, before the new message opened,

“Ali,

Don't forget, we're expecting you and Taryll at his grandmother's house for the party THIS Saturday. Bring a swimsuit!

--Carol”

Replacing the phone, Ali lingered a moment, her carefree mind on the festivities, only a few days away. She always did love a good party. And her boyfriend's family had a penchant for turning anything into a celebration!

Clapping her hands to her pet, before hurdling over him and starting for the soaring high-rise in the distance, she encouraged,

“Come on, Pepe! Come on! We're going in now! We're going to go see what your 'Daddy' is up to! Come on, Pepe, you slowpoke...”

A few minutes later, Ali emerged on the fifteenth floor of the building, the pooch tucked beneath her left arm as she sprinted the last few yards to the shut door of her apartment. She leaned against it, catching her wind and reaching into the matching pink sports bra underneath her top, producing a key.

The lock disengaged and the door swung open soundlessly.

Bursting immediately into the wide, brightly colored living room, Ali discovered there had been much movement since she had departed on her run over an hour ago.

The lights had been out, and the television off when she had left, but now as she stooped to set Pepe loose on the carpet, she noted that all the lights were on, along with the big-screen television mounted over the mantle, turned to the Classic Sports Network, commentators making small talk about baseball.

Closer to her on the low lacquered coffee table, a metallic blue laptop sat open, browser showing the Twitter website.

Leaning on the back of the deep blue leather couch, she read the last “tweet” made by her boyfriend:

Taryll A. Jackson @#1PitcherofAllTime

Honey out running. AGAIN. #Lonesome

Chuckling to herself, Ali called out, as Pepe continued to sniff around her shoes,

“Taryll? Taryll, I'm back! I finished my run, Babe!”

Starting to walk and nearly tripping over the dog, she gently pushed it aside with her toe, crossing the room to the hallway. She peered down the far end of it, where several doors stood closed: one to Taryll's home office, from which he sold custom guitars as hand-crafted by his father, Tito; the home gym—Ali's haunt on the few days rain decided to plague to California—and the double doors leading to the bedroom they shared.

“Taryll Adren--”

“Ali, I'm on the phone with Japan!' Came a muffled reply from behind the door to the office. “I'll be out in a second—Oh Konichiwa, Mr. Yakamoto!'

“I'll be in the kitchen!” Ali declared over her shoulder, heading for the swinging door at the opposite end of the hall.

Seeing the dog starting to follow, she pointed back to the living room and ordered,

“Pepe, heel! You know you're not allowed in the kitchen! Heel!”

Whimpering, the canine retreated and Ali let herself into the chrome-accented black kitchen.

And as she went across to the fridge to pull out her lunch of a green salad and flavored bottled water, she saw that her lover had been keeping himself busy while she had been out.

Spread out on the island in the center of the room was a bevy of deli meats and cheese slices, and a fresh, split, foot-long hoagie roll on a bright red china platter.

Shaking her head at the ensemble of gut-busting delights, Ali retrieved her salad, drink and small bottle of dressing from the fridge and made herself comfortable.

“Gute Nacht, Herr Veidt...This is Taryll Jackson of 4T Guitars. I apologize for calling you so late in Munich, but I need to know what color you want to make Frau Veidt's bass before we go into producing it....”

Ali looked up as the door swung open allowing the other occupant of the domicile to enter.

Pausing just inside the room, was Ali's boyfriend of a little over a year, Taryll Jackson.

Ali had been sprinkling pepper onto her food, but stopped, setting down the shaker, and sighed lovingly, as she did each time she caught sight of the man who had captured her heart.

Although Taryll was over ten years Ali's senior—he'd pass his fortieth birthday that forthcoming August—he appeared as untouched by time as Ali.

The product of the union between an African American father and Hispanic mother, Taryll's mixed heritage was easily visible. His skin was a pure, clear gold that morphed into a rich copper when he'd spend any amount of time in direct sunlight.

As he conversed with his client in rapid German, his eyes, an arresting shade of hazel that drifted between brown, gold and green depending on his mood, under softly arched dark brows cutting across a high forehead, focused on Ali and one winked, causing her to giggle and wink in return.

A sweet smile touched his plump pink lips as he came closer, towering over her.

Taryll was a stout, sturdily built man, broad of shoulders, and just about everything else, lending a teddy-bear-like appeal to him that Ali adored. His body was draped in a baggy black hoodie over a red tee with black jeans, a silver wallet chain tinkling on his hip as he leaned and let his lips brush the cheek upturned to him, his satin-finished gold iPhone mashed to the other side of his head.

Reaching up, Ali ran her matte grey painted nails through the waved tuft on top of Taryll's head, it's real color, a sandy blonde, now a darker brown with honey-colored highlights, which he'd gotten on a whim one afternoon a few weeks earlier.

“..Ice Blue? You don't want the pink? Are you absolutely certain, Herr Veidt?” Taryll started for the island, and Ali felt herself smiling.

One of Taryll's best features was his bountiful backside, accented by his tight jeans—she was so thankful he didn't wear his pants hanging halfway off his ass like most men—and it always left her having palpitations as Ali realized she was indeed a “butt woman.”

Although her lover didn't know it, there was a hidden stockpile of secret snaps in her phone she had taken over their time together of that mass of flesh, just for her own greedy delight.

Taryll had a vast background in sports and spending the bulk of his life running around fields, his buttocks were well rounded, sitting impossibly high, each cheek rippling with each step he took.

“Ja, ja, Sir, the guitar will be shipped in time for your anniversary, the first week of April. Ja, Sir. Danke Shoen...”

The call was disconnected but the phone remained in his hands as he began to punch around the screen with his beefy thumbs.

“This was supposed to be my damn day off...” He informed her, voice rumbling like thunder, head lowered over the screen. “But now I'm stuck intercepting all the international orders because Taj had to carry his happy ass to Las Vegas for that Star Wars Convention at the Bellagio. I hope he gets stuck in his C-3PO costume and can't get out! He would spend over fifteen grand in brass plate to look like a godforsaken robot!”

Taryll rolled his eyes at the thought of his older brother, a devotee of the film franchise, who made the pilgrimage annually for the week-long, out-of-state event catering to sci-fi nerds of all ages.

“He's getting too old for that shit...”

“Well, what about TJ? Couldn't he have handled the orders for you? I mean it is, just one day?” Ali reasoned, forking romaine and cucumbers into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully, and licking at the small chunk of Stilton blue cheese clinging to the back of her fork.

“He couldn't...” The thumbs continued flying. “...he's swamped with domestic orders.”

“Oh...”

Finally, the phone was set aside.

“Shoot, I've had to stop four times, and in less than an thirty minutes, CSN is showing the '81 World Series It's the Yankees versus the Dodgers. I remember watching it as a kid with my father...”

His eyes began to dance and glow emerald.

The only thing that could excite Taryll Jackson more than music and instruments, was the mention of the national pastime, baseball.

In their brief time together Ali knew that from the time Taryll could stand upright, he'd been playing ball and in his free time during the summers would coach a team of his younger cousins, with the help of his two brothers.

“Nineteen eighty-one?” Ali repeated, opening her sparkling water and having a sip.

“Yeah.” Taryll dug in a drawer, coming up with a butter knife.

“You do know, I wasn't born until nineteen eighty-six...” Ali teased and dodged the pitted olive tossed at her, laughing.

“Quit calling me old on the cool, Ali!” Taryll chuckled good-naturedly, heading for the fridge. It was a running gag for them to make fun of their age gap.

Ali had another minor convulsion as Taryll bent in the fridge, his thick booty sticking out, as he poked around. Such, a lovely, strong ass...

Discreetly, another photograph was captured without his knowledge.

Coming up arms loaded with jars of Miracle Whip, Grey Poupon and pickled jalapeno slices, he bumped the door shut and proceeded back to the island.

Ali looked on as he began layering slices of meat and cheese on the bread, before asking,

“What all are you putting on that thing?”

“Ham, Salami, Capicola, and roasted Turkey, with Swiss, Colby, and Muenster. Mayo, mustard, jalapenos for a kick..I call it my World Series Special.”

Eating more salad, Ali questioned, “Don't you think that's a kind of excessive? All that meat and cheese...”

The man was slathering the bread with the Miracle Whip, for crying out loud!

“Nope...” Taryll licked the extra Whip off the knife before plunging it into the coarse-ground mustard.

“...could you maybe....” She started tentatively, “...just maybe eat something green, Tare-Bear?”

Lately, Ali had noticed Taryll indulging a ravenous appetite more and more frequently.

And most of the items crossing his palate weren't exactly wholesome....

“The jalapenos are green, Ali.” He tossed one of the spicy slices in the air and caught it in his mouth, crunching on it.

Pouring more dressing onto her salad, she pointed out,

“Those have no nutritional value and you know it--”

“Lay off me please, Alixandra.” Taryll remarked,his soft voice going gritty, using her full name, a clear indication his gander was getting up. That was, if she hadn't already noticed his neck and ears growing scarlet.

“The first pitch goes out in a few minutes. I don't want to get into another argument about what I eat and don't eat right now. I don't want to nibble on rabbit food like you, or run myself to death on the trail out back. I just want to have my sandwich, and enjoy my game today, is that too much to ask?”

“No...” Ali stared down at her plate as Taryll began to clean up the mess he'd made.

He had been so touchy lately and prone to snapping out of the clear blue sky.

Trying to change the topic, Ali inquired, “Are we going to go shopping today—after the ballgame?”

“Shopping for what?” Taryll was fumbling with his phone again, murmuring to himself, “Damn, four orders from the Netherlands...I don't know Dutch! Taj is the one can speak seven languages fluently I only know five!”

“Our swimsuits.” Ali draped an arm on the back of her chair and regarded him. “Don't tell me you forgot. Saturday we're going to the party at your grandmother's house. It's your Uncle Marlon's birthday—your Aunt Carol texted me while I was jogging earlier.”

Across the room, something of a wall suddenly sprang up around the young man, and a tenseness exuded from him.

“Eh...I don't feel like going, I'm not really in a partying mood, Baby.” Taryll was in the drawer again, this time retrieving a serrated knife.

The pencil-thin brows on Ali's forehead raised.

As far as she knew Taryll had been eagerly looking forward to that party since Christmas, and now he wanted to back out?

“Are you really sure? Your...your father is barbecuing whole hens for it. You love barbecued chicken! And I'm going to make my Shrimp Deviled Eggs, you love thos--”

“I said I'm not going!” A large hand slapped the counter top, making Ali jump in her seat.

The eyes in his head surged and his features hardened

“You can go, Alixandra, but hear me loud and clear: I'M NOT!”

The knife clicked against the plate as he cut his sandwich in half before flinging it behind him into the sink.

Stupidly, Ali attempted to make him change his mind.

“But...that's your family Taryll. You're a Jackson! You know my family are in Texas! I can't go by myself—I'll only go if you go.” Ali vowed as he picked up a half of the monstrous creation, a few peppers falling back to the plate, and bit into it, a blob of Miracle Whip clinging to the side of his mouth as he chewed.

The hazel eyes darkened in his head as his tongue flicked the mayo away.

“Then, you'll be staying here...because I'm not going to that party.” He hissed, picking up his plate, snatching up a bag of Sour Cream and Onion kettle chips from the counter, and stormed through the door, with it slamming the wall he pushed it so hard.

Troubled, Ali spun the fork in her hands, heart pounding.

In the opening as the door swung violently on its hinges, Pepe zoomed towards Ali and was jumping around her feet, as blissful as a dog could be.

Bending down she scratched behind his ears.

“At least you don't holler at me...” She whispered sadly.

***

“...No, Pepe! Pepe! It's time for 'beddy-byes'! Pepe, don't make Mommy cross! Pepe!”

Ali groaned doing her best to push the pooch down in the miniature version of the bed that mirrored the larger one she shared with Taryll, right down to the silver silk bedding, as was everything in the boudoir, a departure from the nearly neon décor that dominated the rest of the home.

“Stay still you little booger!”

“Yip! Yip! Yip!” Pepe jumped up and licked her nose.

“Don't you backtalk me young man! I can still take you over my knee!” Ali wagged a finger in warning, running her free hand through her hair, loose and flowing down her back in gentle waves.

Her figure and coloring was set off by the scant peach satin cami and boy shorts that were her sleep wear.

Panting softly, the dog conceded and laid on his bed, tail wagging and flapping against the tiny quilted headboard.

“Good boy...” She trailed off as the door to the bathroom behind her opened.

Across the room, in the reflection provided by the full-length mirrors that concealed the closet, she watched as Taryll sauntered out, pulling on a black tee that matched his boxers, his skin still slightly glossy from his nightly shower.

Passing behind her, his fingertips grazed the top of her head, as he so often did she when was down fooling with Pepe, the aroma of his signature scent, Ralph Lauren Polo red tickling Ali's nostrils.

(Author's Note: That's my favorite men's cologne of all times!)

It was a ferocious citrus, featuring notes of red grapefruit, cranberry, lemon and wood...

...and it was doing a number on the hot-blooded young woman.

Leaving Pepe, Ali started for the large platform bed where Taryll had stretched out on top of the covers, giving his phone one last glance,reaching and shutting off his bedside lamp, leaving only Ali's on for light, before curling on his side, back facing her,

Ali paused, between the bed and her own nightstand, catching hold of her mounted crystal and white gold Rosary beads, making the sign of the cross over herself as she did each night before bed.

Her light was also extinguished throwing the room into cool darkness.

Ali slipped into the bed, the mattress squeaking slightly under her.

Nestling in directly behind him, Ali was unabashedly spooning him, savoring the warm, sensuous feel of his buttocks and thighs against her.

Resting her chin on his shoulder, she inhaled that spicy fragrance, goosebumps breaking the surface of her skin, her slight body starting to charge with wanton after this man...

As it so often did in such circumstances.

Draping an arm around his middle, Ali pecked first at his neck then the flesh behind his ear, nibbling down on the lobe.

“It is early...” She whispered heatedly off into his ear, brushing her fingertips on his thigh through the cotton of his boxers. “...we could fool around.”

“Cut...cut it out, Ali...” Taryll mumbled shifting and pulling his ear from her mouth. “I'm tired.”

Speaking into his trunk of a neck she chuckled, “Tired from what? Inhaling that hoagie? Sitting on your diff and watching players who were in their prime thirty-five years ago running around a diamond? Come on, you know you want to--”

Her hand drifted down to the opening on the front of his boxers.

Taryll's entire form constricted, his fists curling and snapping up to his chest and he bellowed from the depths of his soul, causing Ali's ears to ring,

“Let me fucking sleep!”

And with a heave of his shoulder, she was rolled off him onto her back.

Across the room at the shout, Pepe began barking shrilly.

Yip! Yip! Yip!

Ali stared at the outline of his hunched body a moment, before her temper caught up to her and flared.

“You big lummox!” She snarled and punched him directly in the center of his left buttock.

“Ow! Ali, that's my ass!” His hand immediately clapped to the mound of sore flesh, with him jostling as Ali laid a hand on the back of his head further shoving him away from her.

“If I wasn't afraid of breaking my foot, I'd break it off in your precious ass!”

Slipping around on the slick comforter, it took a moment for Ali to crawl from the bed.

Noticing she was out of the bed, Taryll's light flicked back on, flooding the room with light and he saw Ali picking up pillows, clutching them to her chest.

“Ali--” He reached for her, eyes golden with remorse.

A smaller hand with grey nails slapped his away.

“I don't want to hear it. I was trying to make love to you! Most men in a relationship want to screw their significant others! If you want to lay in here and yell at me, I'm going to go sleep on the couch, Taryll Jackson...” She replied coldly, sticking her feet into little fuzzy slippers.

“At least I know I won't get my eardrum fucking busted in there! You don't even yell at my damn dog, but you yell at me! You've been yelling a lot lately, and I'm starting to get sick of it. I'm your girlfriend. At least, I still think I am.”

His jaw dropped in horror.

“Of course you are, Ali--”

“You've got a crooked way of showing it!”

A lower drawer on her nightstand was opened and Ali pulled out a small, bald-headed Cabbage Patch Doll, adding it to the heap of pillows on her bosom.

Taryll groaned at the sight of it; Ali only slept with that ugly thing when she really wanted to be alone.

“Put Camille back in the stand.” He pleaded and tried to pull the doll away from her. “You're twenty-eight!”

The top of his hand stung with another pop.

“Don't touch my doll!” She tossed her head, pulling back. “You're thirty-nine and acting four!”

“Ali, come on back to bed. Get back in bed! I didn't mean to holler--”

A hand indicated the vacant spot beside him.

“I will not.” Ali started across the room for the double doors.

“Ali--”

Reaching them, she turned back.

She studied him rudely as he rolled over, looking after her.

“I don't know what's crawled up your ass and died, but its starting to get on my nerves! You've been acting really foul these last few weeks—being sharp with me, all surly for no good goddamn reason. And then when I ask what's wrong, you just mumble some bullshit and look the other way.”

Taryll started to sit up.

“Don't you dare get up or I'll find some kind of way to knock your big ass back down! Go on, lay there. Get your 'fucking sleep'! I won't disturb you, Rip Van Winkle!” Her eyes, true brown, her contacts out, widened and with a flick of her ombre head, she was gone, the door banging as she slammed it after her.

“Alixandra!” She heard him shout. “Damn it!”

***

“...just who in the hell does he think he is? Hollering at me like we're out in a damn barnyard somewhere...” Ali grumbled to herself,having been up half the night and on past daybreak, as she slowly made her way back to the couch, a glass of iced tea in one hand, where her pink laptop sat open to the Nordstrom's webpage.

Taryll's blue one had been knocked to the floor and peeked out from under one of the armchairs.

“...if he wasn't built like a goddamned linebacker, I'd kick his ass myself...It's my fault, I always did like men who were built up big like that! Can't stand a weenie-ass man!”

The young woman threw herself into the couch and helped herself to a deep sip of tea to try to calm her nerves, before picking up the computer and sitting Indian-style with it in her lap.

“He's lucky I'm not like Farrah Fawcett in that movie, may she rest in peace...set the bed on fire while his ass was sleeping in it...” She sighed and for the first time in five years, wished she hadn't given up smoking for a healthier lifestyle. A Marlboro sounded like the best thing in the world to her at the moment.

“Well, I know one damn thing, I'm going to that party! He can sit here and stare at the fucking walls. I'm not! I'm young and I'm going to enjoy it. Damn him...Ooooh, what a cute bikini--”

She stopped suddenly and her spine stiffened.

Ali had the feeling she was being watched.

Glancing out at the hallway, her face contorted with contempt.

Against the far wall, Taryll stood, holding a wriggling Pepe in his arms staring at her solemnly.

His hazel eyes meeting her false blue ones momentarily and he took it as an invite to join her.

“Ali--”

“Put my dog down.” She stated stonily scrolling along on the page, turning from him.

The dog was set on the floor, where licked at Taryll's Converse High-Tops.

Hesitantly, Taryll lingered, fiddling with the buttons on the front of the grey cardigan he'd layered over a white tee and jeans.

“Whatcha up to?” He finally asked, hands patting at his thighs.

“If you must know, I'm ordering a swimsuit for myself. I've changed my mind: I am going to your Uncle Marlon's party. I've already bought my supplies for the eggs. Everyone's expecting me to bring them—especially your Aunt Carol—and I don't want to let anyone down. I reckon I can think up some kind of excuse for you.”

Lashes flickered with a low-boiling rage, as she clicked on a bright red two piece.

Deciding against it, she was now looking at a black fishnet one-piece.

A slip of plastic appeared under her nose; Taryll was holding out his credit card, custom designed with a picture of cartoon character Fry from 'Futurama' shaking a wad of bills and hollering for someone to just take all his money.

“At least let me pay for your swimsuit.” Taryll offered, trying to hand it off to her.

“You don't have to buy my affections. I have my own money—you forget I balance the books for your Poppa T.” The card was pushed aside so roughly, Taryll dropped it.

Bending to pick it up and slip it in his back pocket, he posed an odd question,

“Why...why are you with me, Ali?”

Distracted by a huge selection of suits, her reply was made absently,

“Because I love you...like an idiot.”

Her perusing of overpriced scraps of fabric came to a screeching halt, as Taryll sat beside her, his hands clasping between his opened legs, head hanging.

“What attracted you to me?”

The blue eyes suddenly clouded with a dreamy faraway cast, and her full lips curled into a pleasured grin.

“Your eyes...your smile...the way you sounded laughing. Don't you remember? We met in Starbucks...when the barista mangled the spelling of your name on the cup and you were busting up about it. You turned to me and showed me the cup, with your named spelled “T-E-R-R-E-L-L” and wondered if the baristas misspelled names just to be funny or were they really that illiterate? And I laughed with you...” Ali squinted at him when she noticed his eyes darkening to brown, something they only did when he was upset or his feelings hurt.

He seemed paler, and his lips had been sucked in.

“Why are you even asking me this?”

Falling back against the arm of the couch Taryll sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck a few moments, before stating, his voice low and starting to crack.

“Well, Ali, you're just so fit. You eat right and exercise every day. You'd probably be out on the trail now if it hadn't rained overnight. You'll probably run on the treadmill today...”

Leaning over his knees, he looked away as he added solemnly,

“I kind of figured you'd want a man a little more like you—not fat like me.”

Ali's mouth flew open in surprise and she nearly dropped her computer, turning to him.

“Taryll, you aren't fat...you're...you're just thick!” She offered and was rewarded with a wry chuckle.

“If I was Nicki Minaj, then yeah, I'd be thick. I am fat.”

The broad shoulders sagged.

“Taryll, you are not! Stop saying that! It isn't true! You're just stocky--”

“That's a euphemism for fat, Ali!”

Blue eyes widened....was that why he his attitude had been so shitty and unbearable lately?

He was concerned about his weight?

There was nothing wrong with his weight!

Taryll threw himself out of the couch and landed on his feet so hard he knocked over a figurine on the mantle.

“Taryll--” She laid a hand on his arm and it was ripped away. “You're not fat!”

“Yes I am! I saw how you looked at me when I was eating that hoagie and you were eating that salad during the Dodgers game yesterday. You looked so disgusted--”

“I was not, Taryll! You know that's not true!” Ali leapt to her feet and sent Pepe scampering for cover, as Taryll tensed much as he had the night before, screaming,

“You did too! I bet you're ashamed of me! A beautiful woman with....with SHREK! All I do is sit and eat and take orders for guitars. I don't move around, I don't work out, not like you! I--”

Going over Ali took hold of his rotund face, glowing red and searing to the touch, his breathing labored and chest heaving he was growing so worked up.

A vein had popped out on his forehead.

She spoke evenly and coolly.

“First of all these tantrums have to stop. You have to get a hold of yourself and calm down, Taryll. Taryll...” The blue eyes pierced his, going brown, with seriousness. “I don't care if you're fat or skinny. Whatever you perceive fat to be. I love you for you, but I can't continue to have stomping around yelling at the top of your lungs. I told you that last night! That's why you slept in an empty bed...”

Ruefully, Taryll's eyes broke the gaze and went downwards.

“And as far as working out, if you want to do that, I'd be more than happy to help you. My main concern is that you're happy, whether you're eating a salad or a hoagie—you understand?”

She gripped his slight double chin and brought his face back up to hers.

“Taryll?”

Her eyes searched the disgruntled face, her heart aching to see so much pain contained within it.

“I...I have to go out for a while.” Taryll stammered, and bent, cold lips touching hers, completely emotionless.

“I have to help Poppa T with the boxing and shipping off of some of the guitars. I'll be home around lunchtime.”

A large hand patted her shoulder and Ali turned to watch as Taryll made his way over to the door, stopping just long enough to pluck the keys to his Jaguar.

And he was gone.

She stared at the door a moment, before sinking to the couch again, picking up her phone.

Her knee jerk-reaction to call Taj, but just as she was about to hit 'send' after punching in his number, it occurred to her that he was still in Nevada at his convention.

He couldn't help, so many hundred miles away fighting with a horde of other enthusiasts to be the first to shake George Lucas' hand.

Opening her list contacts, Ali selected a different number and dialed it instead. If this didn't work, she knew she'd have to go over Taryll's head to Poppa T and she knew he didn't want his father to get tangled in his mess.

The line rang several times and for a moment, Ali worried her call would get no reply.

At the last possible moment the line connected , an infant audibly crying in the background.

“Talk to me...” Came the gentle, soothing masculine voice of Taryll's younger brother.

“TJ? It's Ali...” She raked a hand through her hair as Pepe leapt up onto the couch beside her.

“Hey--”

“I need to see you as soon as possible. It's about Taryll...”

***

Two Hours Later

“...Rollercoaster of Love, Ooooh, Ooooh, Ooooh!...”

Just as Taryll Jackson had predicted, following the cloudburst the previous night, leaving her usual haunt slick and soggy, Ali had retreated to the home gym instead to get her daily run in.

On the treadmill, going a brisk pace, eyes shut as she shouted the lyrics to an empty house, Ali wore another one of her many designer workout ensembles, this one consisting of a black tone-on-tone leopard sports bra and matching flared, yoga pants that hugged her entire lean form in all the right places.

Somewhere in her mind she hoped if she turned herself into eye candy for her sweetheart, they could find some common ground to make up on.

Preferably nude and as a tangle of arms and legs.

In a zebra print carrier to prevent him from getting underfoot, Pepe laid watching his master.

As she continued running a small alarm rang and sighing, Ali announced, eyes opening, so she could slow the pace.

“Cool down time—what the hell?”

If she hadn't grabbed onto the railing on both sides of the machine, she'd have flown clean off of into Taryll's barbell set behind her.

A few feet away, seated on the bench press, a man was smiling up at her, a fist pressed to his chin.

As Ali struggled for her footing, the man stood, lips curving in a broad smile showing impossibly white teeth.

He was tall and slim, a bright blue sweater and and dark-rinse jeans clinging to him. The man was staggeringly handsome, skin a clear, rich mocha, offsetting his gold-tinged brown eyes.

“Hey, don't stop singing on my account.” He snorted, as Ali stopped the treadmill and hopped off.

“I was about to start a Soul Train line, girl!”

There he was, in all his comedic glory, Taryll's little brother, TJ.

“Very funny, TJ.” Ali scolded, but smiled at the same time, feeling silly. “How on Earth did you get in?It's not even ten, isn't Taryll still working for Mr. Tito?”

“He is...” TJ nodded, scratching at the tuft of black curls exploding from the top of his head, accenting his attractive, fine features. “I used the spare key you keep over the door. I'm sneaky like that!”

TJ's extremely bold, black eagle-wing's brows wiggled in jest, and he jerked back as Ali tried to playfully punch him.

Going over to the carrier, she stooped, releasing Pepe who paused to bark at TJ, before running out the room.

“Old soup hound!” TJ shook a fist.

“Would you like something to drink?” Ali offered, waving a hand, indicating he follow her and started leading the way out to the kitchen.

“Any kind of juice suits me. I ain't picky.” TJ chuckled dropping off into one of the four chairs around the table, as Ali opened the fridge.

“Catch!” A bottle of orange juice flew into his hands, and opening another bottle of water, she took a deep sip that tasted of limes, leaning against the island.

“Hmm, tangy!” TJ smacked his lips and set his bottle down.

Head cocking to one side, he gazed on the thin woman across the room, noting the tired, drawn expression on a usually comely face.

“Now what's going on, Ali? You sounded pretty freaked out when you called me and still look about three different shades of worried right now. What's up with Taryll?”

“Well...” Ali played with the top of her bottle, “He hasn't been himself. We've been arguing a lot lately. I don't know what to do. It seems like anything I say, or even a look could set him off the wrong way and he goes to shouting...”

“Arguing? About what, if you don't mind saying.” TJ wondered, leaning forward and having another sip of juice.

“I...I....” She stared down at the bottle. “For some reason his self-esteem has plummeted. Bottomed out completely. He's got this crazy idea in his head that he's fat! The last few weeks have been pure hell. We've argued about food, how much he eats. What he eats, what he hasn't been eating. I cook--I've tried to give him healthier options, and he won't touch it. He's been eating a lot of fast food and junk. Always In-and-Out Burgers, Johnny Rockets, Panda Express, Cheesecake Factory. Half his pay goes on crap. He blew up at me yesterday when I told him to put something green on a damn sandwich. Before he left today, he hollered he looked like Shrek—will you kindly ditch that smirk, please?”

Amused by the Shrek comment, TJ had unconsciously started to laugh, but quickly rearranged the lines of his face into more placid ones.

“Sorry.”

“He thinks he's fat and disgusting and keeps questioning why I'm with him, and it's really worrying me, TJ...like really.” She shook her head, her dip-dyed ponytail swaying behind her.

“Well...” TJ stifled a belch. “Pardon...do you think he's fat?”

“He is not fat!” Ali insisted throwing her hands up.

“He's just got a little extra padding to him.” Now it was Ali's turn to slap the granite. “Damn it, he looks exactly the same as the day I met him over a year ago! The only difference now is...is...he put those blonde streaks in his hair at the same time I had mine colored!”

Across the room TJ's brow furrowed and a hand thoughtfully stroked after the small mole on his left cheek before he commented mildly,

“Ali, I grew up with the guy. Taryll's always been insecure about himself since he started putting on the weight a few years back. I mean it's natural for our family. You've seen Taj is kind of chunky, just like our father. And if it wasn't for keeping my ass in the gym I'd pack it right on too.”

Just like Taryll, TJ rubbed at the back of his long neck.

“Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken him this long to start cutting up--”

“What part of I don't care about his weight are you missing?” Ali cried putting her hands to her head and hunched over the island. “I love him as he is. He's beautiful to me. Sexy, astonishing, gorgeous—go get me a damn Thesaurus, so I can find more words!”

A grey-tipped hand covered her face.

“Now, he won't even let me touch him, TJ...”

Furred brows went up in surprise,

“You mean he won't...ahem.” TJ cleared his throat and stood as Ali shook her head violently.

“It's been three weeks! I slept on the couch last night! I'm at my wits' end. I gave up the lease on my own place to come here to live with Taryll. I got knocked out of twelve grand. He offered to reimburse me, but I don't want his money. I at least expected to be intimate in my own damn house!”

TJ nodded with understanding.

“I want to show you something.” TJ laid a hand on her shoulder, his other hand extending his phone to her. “Look at this picture. It was taken about ten years ago.”

Taking it from him, Ali observed what appeared to be a picture of TJ and another man, smiling broadly for the camera.

And TJ looked pretty much exactly the same.

“You haven't aged a day, hate you. Vampire ass.” Ali plucked at his ear and he grinned. “So what about this picture? It's just you and...a friend...?” Ali trailed off as she continued to look at the photo, a brow going up quizzically.

She squinted at the other man in the photo, wearing a denim jacket and brown tee, appearing close in physique to TJ.

Hey eyes started to swell as recognition began to set in..

“Wait a damn minute...”

The coppery skin, the high forehead with a small scar in the center of it, the hazel eyes.

The hazel eyes!

“Sweet Baby Jesus, that's Taryll!” She nearly screamed throwing the phone in the air, leaving TJ to dive several feet in order to catch it.

“This phone is brand new! My son threw and broke my last one! Don't throw this one!” He gasped, cradling it to his chest as thought it were his infant.

“That's...that's Taryll! Did you photoshop that? Are you kidding me?” Ali cried in disbelief, unable to fathom her stocky lover ever looking like that.

“No, that's Taryll. I swear! You didn't know him back then--”

“I was still in high school ten years ago!” Ali braced against the counter. “He was that thin?”

“Yeah.” TJ looked fondly to the photo. “At one time we weighed the same and would wear each other's clothes.”

Ali stared at TJ's tiny body, still unable to make her mind grasp it. “I didn't know. He never said anything about that...not to me.”

She shakily took a drink,

“If...if that's what he wants to try to look like again, I'll help him, but all he wants to do is sit, watch sports and eat. I want to help him--”

“That's the hard part. Taryll is stubborn as all hell.” TJ explained. “He'll have to decide it on his own. You can't nudge him into it. Or he'll keep bucking and losing his temper.”

“I suppose you're right. I'd just like to hear him speak in a tone that's not amplified...” Ali moaned dejectedly, turning her back to TJ. “I'll just wait out the storm then, I guess.”

“I'm sorry Ali...” TJ offered and the room grew quiet.

“Hey...I don't know if this is the time or place, but I think the back of your top is pretty cool.” TJ's comment came out of left field, with him pointing to the many thin straps criss-crossing Ali's back. “Does it come in any other colors?”

“Sure, plenty. I got it from Athletic World downtown.” She shrugged and TJ held up his phone.

“Can I take a couple of pictures to send to Marisol? It's been six months since she had TJ, Jr., and she wants to get back into the gym scene.”

“I'm sorry, I forgot to ask about them, how are Marisol and the baby?” Ali stood, placing her hands on her hips facing TJ and smiled, a small flash popping as he took her photo.

“Just fine and dandy. It's fun being a father, once you figure out which cry means what. Is he hungry, tired, wet...wish I had ten more just like him...move your ponytail so I can shoot the whole thing.”

Ali turned her back to him, and held her hair out the way as another flash was produced, capturing the detail on the back of her top.

“We're bringing him to Uncle Marlon's party—you're going to be there, right?”

Al hesitated and sucked on her teeth.

“I will be, but I don't know if Taryll will. He doesn't really want to be seen in a swimsuit I guess.” She stared up at the ceiling. “...and y'all are his own family! If you can't be yourself with your family, who can you be yourself with?”

The long head bobbed as TJ squinted at his phone's screen.

“Aw, hey, I'm gonna have to get the picture of the back of that shirt again, this one came out blurry.” TJ asked and obliging Ali turned her back to him a second time.

“I really wish--”

“Hold still, you keep moving while you talk.” TJ's hand touched the back of her neck. “Hold it.”

There was another flash and he released her.

TJ admired the shot. “There's that much clear--”

“Why the fuck are you taking a picture of my girl's ass!”

Heads snapped up at the roared demand.

Kitchen door swinging shut behind him, Taryll stood, a burning glare of pure hatred flaming in his eyes, going nearly black . In his left hand, he was crushing a Burger King bag.

“Aw shit...” Ali lamented as TJ jumped back, putting space between them. “Taryll!”

“Taryll...Taryll, wait a minute...this ain't what it looks like! Listen to me! I swear to Baby Jesus—ooh!”

TJ just barely missed being hit in the face with the food bag.

It whizzed past him and crashed against the wall, a Whopper and onion rings splattering the woodwork behind him and falling to the tiled floor.

“It ain't what it looks like.” Taryll mimicked,fists curling at his side as he stalked closer.

“Like hell! I thought that was your damn Corvette in the garage! What the fuck you doing in here with my woman?”

“I'm trying to tell you, man!” TJ declared shaking his head, eyes darting between his sibling and Ali. “We was talking--”

Incredibly light on his feet, Taryll crossed the room lightening quick and was bucking up to TJ who was slowly trying to back away to avoid a confrontation.

“Taking pictures of my woman's ass!”

“Taryll, no!” Ali screamed as he shoved TJ so hard he landed against the table knocking it back into the wall.

“Oh, TJ! Are you hurt? Taryll stop it!”

A quivering finger was pointed at her. “You shut up! I'll handle you in a minute!”

Ali recoiled but grew silent, fearfully.

There was pure murderous rage to every inch of him as TJ, tried to stand, hand grasping his side, cheeks glowing.

“You trying to break my ribs? What... what kind of man do you think I am?” TJ wheezed, obviously winded. “You really think I'm trying to 'holla' at Ali? You out your rabbit ass mind? I've got my own woman and a baby! I was sending the picture to Marisol! I liked Ali's outfit and thought Marisol would like it too. Look!--”

TJ had been trying to hold the phone out to Taryll to show him the text.

The eyes went completely black.

“NOOOOOOOO!”

Within a matter of seconds, TJ's brand-new phone was a memory, as Taryll snatched it, slammed it to the floor and proceeded to put every last pound of himself on top of it stomping until only crushed fragments remained.

“Oh, Taryll no...” Ali was shaking her head, grief-stricken.

“My phone...you broke my motherfucking phone! “ TJ had his hands to his head in disbelief. “That was over eight hundred dollars, Taryll! I just got it this morning! You big bastard!”

“Fuck your phone! The hell I care about your fucking phone?.” Taryll taunted, audibly huffing with anger. “Up in my house with my woman taking pictures of her! You lucky I don't break your stringy ass!”

TJ was shoved in the chest by a large hand, ramming into the table again.

“Taryll!” Ali and TJ both cried as he lunged and grabbed the neck of TJ's sweater.

“I think I will break it!” TJ was shaken as his brother started to lift him off the ground by his collar.

“I don't wanna fight. I don't wanna fight.” TJ's voice came out alarmingly calm all at once, and that coolness frightened Ali more than all the screeching and caterwauling Taryll had been doing in the last month!

“Don't make me have to fucking fight, Taryll...” Somehow, TJ got his hands up and broke his elder sibling's grasp. “I'm trying my best to not get mad! You ain't listening to me!”

Taryll started for him again but was bogged down by Ali rushing behind him and grabbing onto his cardigan, tugging for all she was worth.

“He's your brother! He's your brother! Taryll! He's your little brother! Don't hit him! Please! Don't hit him! I'll call your father! Don't make me call your Poppa T!”

And then, Ali was holding an empty sweater, as Taryll ripped free of it, and she was helpless to watch as he grabbed TJ by the back of his neck and physically hurled him towards the swinging door.

“Taryll!”

“GET OUT!” Fists curled to his chest, he was bodily trembling, and a shade of purple Ali never knew could occur in nature.

“I'm going. I'm going! Because if I lay into to you like I want to right now, I'll regret it. God damn! Break my brand-new fucking phone for no damn reason...How am I gonna explain this to Marisol!”

TJ growled under his breath pushing the door out in front of him. Seconds later the front door slammed.

And a thought dawned on Ali that made her begin twisting the sweater in her hands: She was now alone with Taryll as his wave of anger and scorn reached its crest.

“Alixandra...” His voice came out dark, hard and rough as sandpaper as he continued to stare at the door. And his girlfriend was chilled to the bone.

“...what in the hell were you doing in this house alone with my brother?”

Slowly his head turned towards her, his glare scathing and lethal, eyes muddy.

Stitches in the cashmere popped as Ali backed away, bumping into the island as Taryll turned stalking over, looming dangerously close.

“We...we were just talking...Taryll....Taryll please....” Her heart was thudding in her ears. “You're not yourself, Baby--”

“And just who in the hell are you?” His breath was hot and smelling of more jalapenos. “You were just talking. What kind of fool are trying to play me for? And I assume you have all your conversations wearing a damn sports bra and some tight ass pants—I can see the outline of your damn panties right now through it!”

He ran a finger under one of the shoulder straps and let it snap back against her flesh.

Ali cowered as he pressed against her.

Turning her face from him she whimpered,

“You know I work out every day! He came while I was running!”

Taryll's mouth bobbed close to her ear,

“Is that the kind of man you want? You want one like TJ? Taller, thinner, leaner?”

“Taryll, please...you've got this all wrong! I want you! Not TJ! I'm with you--”

His brows flexed as he bore down farther on her causing her to arch against the island.

“Have you fucked him? Have you fucked my own brother, like some kind of cheap--”

POP!

A perfectly red outline of a hand print appeared on Taryll's cheek.

Eyes bulging, Ali gasped, on the verge of tears.

“How dare you insinuate that TJ and I...You've got no right to say things like that to me! I won't let—OH TARYLL DON'T!”

Ali shrieked and covered her head as his right hand grasped the back of her neck, his left hand balled and shot up to strike.

The fist wavered, and for the first time since he'd started raging, Taryll Jackson got a crystal clear image of the dire mistake he was so very close to making.

His eyes opened when he saw his girlfriend quaking, her head covered with his sweater, his fist hovering in mid-air.

“Oh my God...” His voice quavered and he let go of, her backing away speedily, nearly tripping over his own feet..

“I...I gotta get out of here!”

There was the sound of feet running away, and the front door banged again.

Ali shivered for a full five minutes, before dropping to her knees on the cold tiles, burying her face in the sweater and weeping.

It was all she could do.

***

Six hours later, Taryll Jackson was still gone.

Ali was a ball on the couch, wearing over sized, standard-issue baggy blue sweats, her contacts removed, with her clear-framed cat-eye glasses on, and behind the lenses her eyes slowly returning to brown from red.

The grey cashmere sweater draped her lap.

On the floor beside the couch Pepe slept soundly.

Spread out on the coffee table, an entire box's worth of used Kleenex laid scattered as it had taken Ali over an hour to empty herself of her tears and get her body to stop shaking.

She stared at the television, broadcasting an old Chicago Bulls game—with Michael Jordan playing—but she neither saw nor heard any of it.

Her mind was where it had been since that door had slammed shut: on Taryll.

She didn't know what to do, or which way to turn.

Desperately....she desperately wanted to help him.

Alleviate him of all the stressors, nay the very demons that caused caused his erratic behavior.

This...this man she had lived with the last few weeks, it wasn't Taryll.

Not her Taryll.

Her Taryll was a kind, gentle and loving man. One whom would surprise her with little things like handwritten notes of affections or boxes of her favorite candy.

The kind of man who would hold her close at night and whisper sweet nothings at her until she drifted off to sleep hear head on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

Where had it gone wrong?

Where now he barely tolerated her very touch.

At the start, their intimacy had been rather racy, Taryll possessing an insatiable appetite for sex.

That had been one of the reasons he had invited her to come live with him: he was constantly driving over to her place to “hook up” and during one particularly frantic trip, Taryll took a corner too wide and left the front end of his Lexus in a a ditch.

 He'd been knocked out before the air bag even deployed, but it would live on in infamy forever in his medical records that when he'd been extracted by paramedics and had his clothing cut off, it was discovered, that even while he's been popped cold, he still possessed a raging erection.

Now he was simply raging.

Once she had pulled herself together and talked herself out of torching his clothing and the collection of guitars stored in his home office, Ali had tried more than a dozen times to contact him.

Calls, texts, emails and tweets.

“Call me, Baby...”

“It's been hours. Where are you? Are you alright?”

“You're scaring me. Please call me. Text me...”

“I love you. Just come home, Tare-Bear. Come home.”

“Pepe and I miss you...”

All to no avail. He refused to reply.

And it broke her heart every time the background of her phone came up.

It was a picture of the two of them, the day that Ali had moved into the apartment, with Taryll holding her in his strong arms, carrying her over the threshold, with Pepe jumping around his feet, as taken on a whim by one of the moving men.

The two holding onto one another, smiling to recklessly, and happily.

Where had that man gone?

What was he doing to himself?

Was he alright?

Would he ever be alright again?

If he were hurt--

“Ali?”

The front door had cracked, and TJ was peeking in.

Easing in, he questioned,

“How you holding up?”

“I can't get in touch with him, TJ.” Her voice shook as TJ got to the end of the couch, hands shoved into his pockets, face full of concern. “It's been six hours. He's stormed off before, but never for this long! Where could he be?”

Ali almost fell over when TJ replied matter-of-factly,

“I know where he is.”

Without a thought, Ali was up on her feet, sweater falling, running for the door,

“Take me to him.”

***

“...he's been here since he went running like a bat a out of hell from your apartment earlier today. I stuck around down the hall, hiding behind a plant, in case he tried to do something stupid to you and I really would have had to put my hands on him...”

TJ informed as he and Ali stood on the sidewalk, looking through the huge, lightly tinted glass window of the Hong Kong Delight Chinese Buffet.

On the far end of the establishment, decorated almost stereotypically in shades of crimson and brilliant gold, Taryll was seated in a booth, alone.

Even so far away, Ali could make out a formidable amount of empty plates stacked on the table next to him.

For a flicker of of a moment, Ali recalled how Taryll had reared his fist to hit her, before fleeing.

And now he sat, the same fist curled to his forehead, the other gripping his phone as he stared down at it ignoring his surroundings.

“Oh Taryll...” Ali, sighed pressing against the glass.

He was in such turmoil, she could feel it radiating from him.

“I almost called Poppa T for him, to be honest, cause I mean I watched him a long time....hours. He'd sit there, look at his phone, get that funny expression he has right before he's about to cry—but he never did actually cry—then he'd go get another plate and eat. And do it over and over. I got full just watching.” TJ scoffed, lifting his sweater and looking to the gnarly purplish-black bruise gracing his side.

“Do....do I go to him?” Ali wondered skeptically, really just wanting to hold him.

Looked so desolate, so miserable and it made her very bosom ache.

“You probably should. I saw him go through two entire bottles sriracha sauce. If you don't get him first, his guts will!” TJ declared with a shake of his head and taking Ali by the arm, lead her to the heavy door, a dragon carved on it and they slipped inside.

The eatery was fairly packed, as the the dinner rush was in full swing and Ali started for the hostess booth where a Chinese woman was trying to direct the diners to any available seating.

“Come on, we're not going to eat.” TJ whispered, plucking her from the line and the two began picking their way from the line towards Taryll, wearing that “about to cry” expression, brows furrowed, eyes shining and nose glowing, as he stared down at his phone again.

As they neared him, from seemingly nowhere, a very small Chinese woman, in dark blue traditional dress, her hair in a French roll accented with decorative golden chopsticks appeared at his side.

TJ put a hand up to stop Ali.

Scowling the woman pushed Taryll's shoulder, jostling him and causing him to drop his phone to the table top.

“What the hell, lady?”

“You have enough!” The woman exclaimed pointing at him. “You leave now, Sir! You eat too much!”

Even over the din, Ali heard Taryll's voice crack, on the verge of tears, as he demanded hotly.

“I'm a paying customer, aren't I? I didn't steal anything! I paid!” He held up a small slip of paper,

“This is my damn receipt!”

“You go home!” The woman yelled at him and a few patrons turned to stare. “You eat all the Pepper Steak! We got no more Pepper Steak 'cause of you! You go home! Don't come back!”

It was then Taryll stood, is tall, wide frame a sharp contrast to the tiny , bawdy woman.

“I'm not done--” He started.

“Oh yes you are! You go home!” The woman shouted and some of the passing waitstaff paused looking on.

“You want me to pay again? I'll pay again!” Taryll came up with that cartoon card and held it out to her. “It's a lousy ten bucks anyway! Take it. Charge me again! I don't give a flying fuck--”

“We don't want your money! We want you to go home!” The woman pointed towards the door frantically.

“You go or I call police!”

Taryll regarded her icily, and she stared back just as boldly as if she weren't a fraction of his size.

Picking up his phone, he smirked,

“The steak was tough as boot leather, anyway.”

“Didn't stop you, though! Good riddance!”

Taryll made it exactly three steps before his eyes found Ali.

The look of fondness and bliss lasted until he caught sight of TJ beside her.

And just as quickly, the light was out.

“Leave me the hell alone.” He grumbled brushing between them and stormed out into the parking lot.

“Taryll! Taryll, wait! Talk to us! Don't leave! Please!” Ali called as she and his brother rushed to keep up with him.

Taryll gave no reply, digging in his pocket for his car keys.

In the distance the alarm chirped and the lights on his Jag flashed.

“Taryll, come on Bro. We've been worried about you all this time. Especially Ali! She's your girlfriend. I know you love her! Talk her for crying out loud! Taryll!” TJ ran ahead of Ali as Taryll reached his car and started to open the door.

“Stop it, Bro!”

Catching him, TJ grabbed onto Taryll's right arm and as a pure reflex, Taryll swung his left arm.

And if his fist had connected with TJ's face, he'd have been having reconstructive surgery the rest of the night.

Luckily TJ was quick on the draw and drew back tugging Taryll with him and elbowed him in the middle of the back, dropping him like a bad habit.

Taryll fell to his hands and knees on the pavement, breathing heavily.

Ali halted her hands to her mouth, eyes swelling with tears.

“This bullshit is getting old, fast.” TJ scolded, brows wagging, his usually restrained temper at last failing him.

“You've had this woman needlessly worrying over your ass for what seems like months. Ali loves you. You worrying about your weight and how you look and all that petty shit and she doesn't care. I asked her. Before you broke my motherfucking phone, she said she loved you no matter if you were overweight or trim. She'd even help you diet if you wanted it! And you're out here acting a damn fool! Ali is pulling and rooting for you, and you're not even trying to meet her halfway. You trying to throw away a good woman? There aren't many left and you got one right here!”

Ali started towards them, but stopped, her hands coming to her mouth a second time, as she noticed Taryll's belly starting to ripple under him.

The last time it had done that, was at the New Year's Party his father had thrown and he'd downed one too many Adios MFs.

“TJ!” She tried to flag at him.

TJ, full of himself, ignored her and continued to berate his sibling,

“You got anything to say for yourself? Huh? Damn near forty--”

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

TJ was drowned out by the otherworldly, guttural growl, as a black substance, littered with flecks of red and green came sailing out of Taryll's opened mouth and began to pool under him and seny TJ bouncing back to avoid having his shoes messed on.

“Holy Hell!”

The Pepper Steak was making a round trip, rather than a one-way.

“Taryll!” Ali was immediately on her knees at his side, rubbing after his back.

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

More half-macerated foodstuffs came up and splattered the ground.

“It's okay. It's alright... It's okay. TJ ! TJ, quit looking at your damn shoes! There's towels and bottles of water in his trunk” She instructed, taking charge of the spiraling situation. “Wet me a towel.”

“Yeah!” TJ scampered, and pressing the trunk release and raced to the rear of the vehicle.

“Here, Ali!”

A damp towel was passed to her and she draped it around Taryll's neck, burning red and dabbed at his forehead, pouring perspiration as he coughed and spit.

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

An entire undigested hunk of beef bounced on the pavement.

“You folks having trouble? Anything I can do to help? I'm a paramedic!”A voice in the distance called, and TJ called back,

“No, thank you though! Some food didn't agree with my brother! We got it covered!”

He put a hand to his own forehead.

“I told you that sriracha would get him!”

“It's alright...” Ali pecked at his sweaty forehead as Taryll fell against her gasping for air and wiped at his stained mouth.

“Ali...Ali...Ali...” He stammered, closing his eyes, as she swept his hair back off his forehead and patted a clean part of towel at his forehead.

“Shhh....don't say anything. Don't exert yourself. Shhh....Shhhh....” She cooed patting at his forehead.

“I'm here....it'll be alright...it's alright...”

A shaky hand reached up and gripped hers.

And barely, in a voice so small it could have come from a child, Taryll professed,

“I'm sorry Ali. I'm so sorry... for everything.”

Continuing to coddle him, Ali looked up to TJ, sitting on the hood of Taryll's car. Their eyes met and she looked back down at the scarlet face resting on her bosom.

“I know...”

***

“Uh...Uh...Uh....Uh...Uh...!”

The most grievous sound in the world was that of a grown man crying.

And it was a sound Ali had heard, albeit muffled by the sound of the shower in the bathroom running full blast, for over forty-five minutes.

Sitting in the middle of the floor of the bedroom, and trying to busy herself by brushing Pepe's coat until it shone like new money, Ali was doing her best to not cry herself.

Taryll's pain was her own.

It had been for quite some time, but had reached it zenith that evening as Taryll, clinging to TJ had limped into the apartment. Immediately shedding clothing soiled with the remnants of Chinese food in a trail that stretched from front door to the door of the bed room, by the time he disappeared inside, he was completely naked.

Ali sent TJ on home to Marisol and their baby, saying she'd take it from there.

And she had.

The dirty clothes were in the wash, a clean shirt and pair of boxers spread on the bed, and on Taryll's bedside table, a Thermos was keeping some weak chicken broth warm until he came out of the bathroom, in order to settle his upset stomach.

Two full bottles of sriracha....did he have vendetta against his intestines?

“Uh...Uh...Uh....Uh...Uh...!”

Four different times, Ali had cracked the door to check on Taryll and found him in a different position each time.

The first time, his yellow form was visibly standing, hands up on the rainwater shower head, his head lowered. Weeping.

The second time, he was stooped over, his backside pressing the frosted glass of the stall. Sobbing.

The third time he was crouched on his knees, arms crossed over the back of his head. Wailing.

Heart-wrenching, backbreaking wails. That had been the worst, as he was making so much noise, Ali feared someone would report him to the Super.

Howls like an untamed animal in its death throws. The noise would haunt Ali for weeks to come.

“Uh...Uh...Uh....Uh...Uh...!”

Finally, the fourth time, he was lying in the fetal position . Sniffling.

“Daddy's having a rough time...” She said to Pepe, trying to fill the silence overwhelming them.

Wait...

Silence?

Ali looked up at the shut door.

The water had stopped running, and so had the crying.

Electricity lit her as she slowly climbed to her feet, feeling dizzy, her throat too dry and cottony to even utter his name.

She crossed herself praying to anything and everything Holy that Taryll hadn't done something everyone would regret--

The knob on the door turned.

It opened with Taryll emerging, typing the belt of his dark copper satin robe shut, a white towel thrown around his shoulders as his hair still sparkled with droplets.

Head coming up, he saw Ali standing there and their eyes met, her dark eyes so large and brimming with hurt through the lenses of her eyeglasses.

Slowly, his bare feet carried him to her, and the aroma of Polo Red overpowering as he gazed down at her.

And then Taryll was on his knees, hugging against her middle, the water in his hair wetting the front of her floral nightgown.

Ali patted at the back of his head, comfortingly as he trembled.

It was all she could think to do.

They clung to each other a long moment, until Taryll's shaking subsided.

With a disillusioned groan, he sat back on his heels, head still down.

He couldn't even bring himself to look her in the eye.

And something made Ali speak.

She had to know something.

“What...what did you keep looking at on your phone while you were at the buffet?”

“Um...”

Haltingly, Taryll climbed to his feet, a flash of the dark blonde curls adorning his groin exposed as his robe swayed from his movement.

“...I'll show you, Alixandra...”

His fingertips brushed her scalp as he passed her by, leaving her in a cloud of aroma.

Looking over her shoulder, Ali watched silently as Taryll crossed the room, retrieving his gold phone from the foot of the bed.

Between the bronze of his complexion the copper of the robe clinging to him and gold of the phone in his hand, Taryll was a living, breathing version of the Oscar statuette.

As he picked at the phone, pulling up whatever it was that had held his attention, Ali's attention was called to the protrusion coming from his back.

That lovely, rounded hunk of meat he called his backside, flexed ever so gently, as Taryll unconsciously swayed from one foot to the next.

His entire profile was majestic; so thick, powerful, and commanding. How could he have ever felt anything but pride when he looked at himself?

Why couldn't he see what she saw? It boggled Ali's mind.

A staggered, deep exhalation puffed from his mouth as he stared down at the contraption in his hand and he glanced at her, handsome tanned face full of apprehension.

His hazel eyes continued to dart between the device in his palm and the dark brown ones of his lover as he made his way back to Ali, looming over her.

His voice was low and timid as he declared,

“I was looking at this...”

He turned it to her.

“Oh, Taryll!” The air whooshed from her lungs in astonishment, causing her hands to fly up to her mouth as she battled with herself to prevent a flood of teas from flowing down her cheeks.

She had to blink away the sheen that was obscuring her vision, as her heart swelled to near bursting in her bosom.

There, on the screen, was the very same photograph she had been looking at: the one of them the day she moved in!

“I...I...I felt so helpless when I was at the buffet...” Taryll admitted his head hanging with shame. “I just didn't know what to do or who I could turn to. After the way I treated you...the coldness, the hollering, almost putting my hands on you like a caveman. Beating up on my brother...”

“It's alright, Tare-Bear...” Ali offered, standing, scooting Pepe out the way with her bare foot. “I know you didn't mean it, you were just frustrated--”

A long finger pressed her pouty lips.

“Frustrated or not, I didn't have to take it out on you.” Taryll's eyes fairly screamed with remorse. “Every single thing TJ said about you was right: You are a good woman. A very good woman to put up with my insanity the last couple of months. Exceptional. I was so rude, so callous, so vicious to you. You didn't deserve that. No one deserves that...”

“Taryll.” Ali placed her hands on his shoulders and found he was trembling. He was starting to get worked up again.

“...and then when I was on my hands and knees in the parking lot, puking my guts up on the concrete, you were right there. Taking care of me. Looking after me. Petting at me. Cleaning vomit off me!”

“Please, Taryll, don't...” Ali whispered when saltwater began to flow from his eyes and cascade down his flushed cheeks. She tried to brush them away with her thumbs. “Baby, don't...it's alright...”

“It's not!” Taryll's voice broke, more tears falling.

Ali winced as he grasped her shoulders tightly.

“Why...why...why are you still here? Why are you still here? Why haven't you left me? Packed a bag and gone back to Texas? Taken Pepe with you? Why, Ali?”

Soft, warm hands, smelling lightly of Vanilla Musk perfume, cupped his embattled face.

“I keep telling you, Taryll...but you refuse to listen...”

She brought her face to his, and pecked at his tremulous lips.

“I love you.”

Thankfulness shown on his cut, angular face like a spotlight.

“Oh, Ali...”

Perching up on tiptoe, Ali pressed her lips to his greedily, and saw nothing but fireworks blazing.

His mouth...how she'd missed his mouth these last few weeks.

How sweet, moist, tasting of spearmint Listerine.

That man....that lovely, gorgeous, phenomenal man....

Ali could no longer control herself.

Why, it had been over three weeks since she had last experienced the splendor that was his body!

Throwing her arms around his plump middle, Ali was pressing herself against him, her head bobbing she was kissing after him with such intensity.

Hazel eyes fluttering shut with ecstasy, Taryll tossed his phone off into Pepe's little bed looping his arm around her slim body.

Ali warmed all over; it felt so good to be back in his arms.

To be held.

To know he still cared.

They would remain together.

Taryll would get better, she'd see to that.

It would take time, but they'd get there.

Although there were other ways to mend her man...

She needed Taryll in that moment more than she needed food, water or air.

And if she didn't have him, she'd go stir crazy.

“Ali! Ali—oh shit!” Taryll gasped, as she pulled her lips from his,and pressed them to his throat, suckling his Adam's apple.

“Baby!”

Hugging to him again, pressing her cheek to his, her nose resting on his shoulder beneath the silken robe, the white towel falling to the floor, she inhaled the strong citrusy aroma of him, and the smell of manliness that had always been present on him naturally, masked by the Polo, but not entirely.

What was that called?

Oh yes...pheromones....

Holding onto his neck, Ali alerted Taryll,

“You're not just going to fucking sleep, tonight.”

She began to rub her face against his when he mumbled with ambivalence,

“You....want to make love to me?”

Dark eyes popped open and Ali leaned back studying the broad face above hers.

“Taryll Adren Jackson—you're still hanging on to that idiotic belief that you're fat!” She more stated than questioned, and uncertainty appeared in his eyes, darkening to brown.

“Well, I--” He stammered as she took him by the hand, moving Pepe out the way with her foot, leading him to the mirrors concealing their closet.

“I'm sick of all this negativity you have in regards to yourself! I want you to tell me what you see. I'm trying to understand.” She demanded standing off to the side, arms crossing over bosom.

“Tell me.” She pointed to the the reflection.

In one fell swoop, Ali witnessed Taryll's posture change.

His hands clasped in front of him, with his shoulders rolling forward and sagging, his feet spreading slightly.

His coloring also transformed, with it draining and leaving him ashen with trepidation.

His eyes drifted to the concerned figure beside then back to himself.

Taryll sucked in his bottom lip and chewed on it thoughtfully for a moment,

“I...I...I see...um...” He was shifting again, tying the robe back closed. “....ahem, I guess...I see...well...”

Tersely, a sliver of pink tongue came out and dampened his lips, a tell Ali had grown to know meant tears weren't too far behind.

Touching his arm, she felt him shaking.

“May I tell you what I see?”

Taryll gave no reply, but Ali wasn't deterred and stepped up behind him, placing her hands on his wide shoulders, wobbling to her touch.

“I see a very handsome man...tall, strong, with classic features...”

A hand slipped beneath his chin, which had begun to droop, and lifted it so that he could peer at his reflection.

“High forehead, gorgeous hazel eyes, that little nose, sweet lips I love to kiss--”

In spite of himself, Taryll laughed, and a scant second, a smile lit his face.

“--the most beautiful smile I've ever seen--” Ali was interrupted by him lamenting,

“That's just my face. I know you like my face...even though its fuller now...Hey, what are you doing?”

Taryll's gaze with himself was broken when Ali's hands, circled his middle and started to untie the belt of his robe a second time.

“Ali—Alixandra!”

The robe was snatched from him, and he was left face to face with his own naked reality.

Ali was momentarily distracted, admiring her lovers perfectly rounded buttocks, the tiny oddly heart-shaped mole on the left cheek. Also on the cheek was a faint contusion from when she had punched him the night before.

Invisible flames were consuming Ali!

Smiling, she looked up to the mirror.

It dissipated when she saw that Taryll had covered his face with both hands.

“Taryll--?”

“I can't look. Don't make me look Ali. Please don't make me look. I don't want to look. I don't see what you think I should see...” His voice came out in a ragged strain. “Please give me my robe or my clothes. Ali, please!”

Patiently, Ali took Taryll's wrists in her hands and with an good amount of tugging, she finally got his hands away from his face.

He took his touch-me-not stance, hands barely covering his crotch, head lowered.

“I'm fat, I got a spare tire, and love handles, and cellulite...”

He trailed off as a slip of floral fabric landed at his feet and his brows raised questioningly..

Standing alongside Taryll, Ali was as nude as he.

“Do you like my body, Taryll Adren?” She wondered and the blonde streaked head turned to her, eyes widened in disbelief.

“ Do I--You're gorgeous Ali! The most beautiful woman I know. You always looks wonderful--” Taryll sputtered, blinking as his eyes roved of the fit, toned, and slim physique with the long legs, pert bosom and flat belly... and visibly staggered when Ali revealed, her voice low and cool.

“You remember the other day I went to have the color in my hair touched up?”

“Yeah?” Taryll shrugged.

Pain shone in Ali's eyes that took his breath away. “While I was under the dryer a little old lady asked me if I was anorexic. She said I was entirely too skinny and needed to eat something...”

“Oh...oh, Ali, no....you're perfect....” Taryll whimpered, brow furrowing. “Don't let--”

“Don't let someone else's negative opinion affect me?” She spoke over him and his eyes lit. “I don't know who or what put that fat idea into your head, but its time you got it out...”

Taryll was eating his bottom lip.

“I don't even think of that old biddy who spoke to me. I like myself and how I am. And I think you're perfect as you are. If you stay this way, fine. If you want to lose it. That's fine too. I just want you happy! I've told you that alright! I told TJ the same thing before you did The Stomp on his phone.”

She held his wrists, pulling them away from his pubis, and marveled at the front of her lover's exquisite form.

His long throat, the broad shoulders, the tender, chocolaty nipples standing out on his chest,such a contrast to the rest of his complexion.

The small pooch of a belly, no where near a “spare tire”, as he had called it, lending to the blonde cloud from which sprouted a girth of flesh danging downwards towards his knees from those remarkable thighs.

He was such a work of art, every inch of him, handcrafted by God, seemingly for Ali's enjoyment and savoring.

The promised land had been found.

“You've got the devil in your eyes...” Taryll pointed out as Ali removed her glasses, folding them, before tossing them onto Pepe's bed where his phone still rested.

“Really?” Her hands were in her hair, removing the elastic from her ponytail. “And to think. I thought you could see the horns rising from my head, instead...”

“No...” Taryll wore a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. “Those are a little bit lower...”

Ali started to dip her head, and smirked. “You mean my tits!”

“Yeah, those!”

Ali...” Taryll was sucking on his bottom lip, eyes sweeping her hungrily.

That indulgent World Series Special wasn't going to satisfy him...no, not tonight.

Those three turbulent weeks without her touch had also taken its toll on him.

The beautiful, oval face, the dancing dark orbs, framed by the long lashes fluttering at him, the way her bosom rose and fell with aroused excitement.

The smooth abdomen, giving way to those strong, fit hips, outlining the delicate slit, over which a “T” in light fuzz had been fashioned.

Yes...he'd forgotten about the little “T” decoration she had been employing since Christmas, when she had woken him up by sitting on his face. With the “T” on his nose.

Ali always did have a freaky streak to her once she got to really going.

The elastic was launched into his chest.

“I want you, Taryll...” She announced, brows wiggling with the nefarious.

Slowly, Ali advanced, and in turn Taryll backed until he bumped the mirror.

“And I need you Alixandra...”

The two eyed each other down, breathing growing labored as bosoms lurched.

Synapses fired, hairs raised and goosepimples sprouted on the bare flesh.

When her mouth collided with his throat, sucking fiercely, encouraging hickies, Taryll begged, eyes rolling, his head tilting back against the glass,

“Be gentle.”

“My big hunk of caramel...” Ali uttered into his throat, her hands up in his hair, tousling the multi-toned locks. Her lips were heading southward...

Small pecks, each delivered to Taryll's dermis, boiling, as he tried to control himself, left his neck, and graced both of his pectorals, Ali's lips eventually finding their home alternating betwixt, his two cocoa areolas.

As her mouth alternated between sucking mercilessly at one ripe bud her fingertips tweaking the other, Taryll braced against the reflecting glass, hissing through grit teeth,

“Oh, Ali....yes...”

Coming back up, her hands slipped behind him fingers pressing into the sinewy flesh of that amazing ass...

“Taryll...” Her tongue want along his jawline. “You've been very, very naughty lately...yelling at me, depriving me of this body...you almost struck me...”

“I know...” His head was back and rocking to and fro against the glass. “...you want to punish me...”

His belly went concave he inhaled so deeply.

He was up on his tiptoes as Ali raked her nails through the hair on his groin, the shaft starting to lengthen, stiffen and rise, a telltale sign of his mounting emotion.

In fact, he'd taken a rosy glow all over.

The teeny cleft in his chin was sucked on with Ali speaking into it, inquiring,

“Shall it tickle or shall it smart?”

“Whatever you think I deserve—Ouch!” Taryll half hollered/half chortled as his nipples were twisted.

Ali's eyes were stormy, “Get on the bed...”

Taryll smooched at her cheek, before gamely obeying, buttocks quivering. Ali watched as he picked up up the shirt and boxers, folding them, and placing them on the bedside table, before turning back to her.

“Face up or--”

“Face down.” Ali pointed, her own expression fierce, but when his back was turned, a giddy grin took her features.

She did get a kick out of playing the Bitch.

As Taryll knelt on the bed, his bottom resting on his heels, Ali stopped short, dropping to her knees. She first picked up the overturned thermos—none of the broth had spilled, thankfully-- before coming up with a long, rectangular, lacquered black box.

Curiously, Pepe trotted over to investigate and in the same breath was galloping away from a swat on his behind.

Latches clicked and the lid popped open, giving sight to a variable treasure trove of adult toys, lubricants and scented oils.

They always did lean towards the left in their expression of love for one another.

“I'm in real trouble...aren't I?” Taryll was beaming, as willing to be on the receiving end of what was to come as Ali was willing to dish it out.

“Yes, Sir...yes you are...” A bottle of clear, viscous baby oil was tossed on the bed. “...you really have been unbearable...”

“I'm light skinned...don't bruise me...” Taryll begged as a wide, red satin ribbon was tossed onto the bed.

“That's not really your decision, now is it?” Ali examined a flogger, made of interwoven leather strips, braided together, the last ten inches or so left in hanging strips.

It was added to the pile.

“I guess not.” Taryll grinned. “But my turn to dole it out will come soon.”

“Certainly. I beat your ass, you beat mine.”

A silver bar, with a black leather cuffs on each end was lifted up.

“That thing?” Taryll complained as it was thrown to him. “I'm really paying for my sins aren't I?”

“Yes, Sir...yes you are.” Ali repeated, shutting the case and sliding it from view.

She stood, and picked up the ribbon,

“Arms out, please.”

Taryll's head shook in refusal.

“No, Alixandra—OW!” He grunted as she took hold of the tuft of highlighted hair on top of his head giving it a strict yank.

“Put them out!” She ordered gruffly, and he was pushed back against the silver bedding. “Don't make me say it again.”

Regaining his balance, Taryll scowled, but did comply with the request.

His arms were jutted out, palms facing upwards. Ali began to deftly bind his arms together in front of him with the red ribbon. Adding further insult, she tied a large bow on top.

Taryll's facial cheeks were pinched with Ali teasing him,

“You've been such a bad, bad boy. Said so many mean things to me...wouldn't let me touch you. Hold you...make love to you...”

She grabbed onto his chin and stared down her nose at him with contempt.

“I said I was sorry--”

His mouth was covered by his hand.

“I didn't hear myself give you permission to speak, Taryll Adren.”

Above her cupped hands, Taryll's eyes were bright, vibrant Kelly green, giving away that he was drawing pleasure from this sensually cruel act.

Ali winked at him, breaking her Bitch Character, leaning forward, removing her hand and covering his mouth with hers.

Her tongue, soft, pliable and damp touched his causing him to exhale coarsely through his nostrils.

Ali's natural brown eyes were telling on her, her love and fondness for this man showing so plainly in them, despite her efforts to be “mean”.

“Assume the position.” She picked up the baby oil, metal rod and flogger.

Taryll started to turn towards the padded headboard and found himself being pulled by the back of his neck.

“Mirror!” Ali shouted and was greeted with a bemused chuckle.

“Alright, Sugar....heh, heh, heh....” Taryll snorted, stretching out length-wise on the bed, facing towards the mirror, his arms tucked beneath him. “You sound funny yelling when you're not really mad at me--”

THWACK!

“GODDAMN IT!”

Taryll rose a good foot off the bed, when without warning, the leather tassels were laid into the middle of his back, a bright red welt appearing in seconds.

“I was looking right at you!” Taryll cried out, trying to shake off the blazing sting. “How you just sneak--”

THWACK!

“AAAAH! ALI!”

A second welt appeared on his right thigh.

“You gotta fucking warn me--”

THWACK!

“JUDAS PRIEST!”

And a third across the back of his left leg.

“Warn you?” Ali threw her head back and cackled at the ceiling.

In the corner, Pepe cowered, his paws over his little eyes, as he was no stranger to exchanges such as this.

“That's why you have a view of the mirror, to see it coming...”

The flogger went up again and reacting, Taryll tensed, expecting the impact.

Instead of soul-breaking lick, the bottom of his right foot was tickled with the loose ends.

“I hate when you do that!!!” Taryll guffawed, his head lowering over his bound wrists, the upper part of his body sagging, while his hindquarters—in particular the piece de resistance, that booty, perched in the air, as he bent his knees.

Through his spread legs and past his wagging scrotum, he watched, albeit with an upside-down view, as Ali put the metal rod between his legs, slipping a cuff around each of his ankles and tightening it.

“I don't know what came over me to buy that damn thing. You use it on me more than I use it on you!” He groaned as with a few clicks his legs were spread as wide as he could stand, held open with the bar.

“Every time you use it on me, you try to put my legs behind my damn head like I'm some sort of porn star.”

Ali was barely aware of her response, she was so suddenly mesmerized by the sphere of fat, resembling an oversized peach.

“Full moon tonight!” Taryll snickered, when Ali's hands started to slide over the malleable, supple flesh. “You love my big ass...”

“I worship it...” The bed gave a bit as Ali sat on her knees at his side, and ran a finger along the welt on his thigh.

Watching the reflection, Taryll saw Ali,one arm resting along his tailbone, her head lowering to grace his buttocks with kisses.

“I like when you do that...” He commented, turning a bit to gaze back at her, and admire her own nude profile. Barely discernible on her thigh was a small scar from an earlier exploit where Taryll had cracked the whip on his girlfriend too, too hard.

“I know...you just hate when I fix it so you can't sit down for a few days, is that it?”

“Yes—wooo! That's cold!”

The cap on the baby oil had come off and the clear liquid was being dashed willy-nilly all over the awaiting suspended cheeks.

In seconds, Ali was massaging the oil across his buttocks and thighs, until they shone and sparkled like a yellow diamond.

Turning the flogger around, Ali nestled the “handle” against the split in the cheeks and as a move to entice her all the more, Taryll shook his hips, causing the mound to jiggle like Jello in an earthquake.

“I love your ass...almost hate to whip it.” Ali admitted, pausing to tuck her hair behind her ears, giving Taryll a chance to reason,

“Then don't--”

THWACK!

“SHIIIIIIIT!” Taryll bounced on the bed. “ALI!”

THWACK!

“ALIXANDRA SOPHIA!”

THWACK!

“MY ASS! MY ASS! THAT'S ENOUGH!”

THWACK!

In the mirror, Ali was crazed, wildly swinging the leather, not at all particular about just where on Taryll Jackson's body it connected.

THWACK!

“I DON'T REMEMBER THE SAFETY WORD!”

THWACK!

“PEACH! CHERRIES! BLUEBERRY! I KNOW ITS A FRUIT!”

THWACK!

“AH! PINEAPPLES! IS IT PINEAPPLES?”

In short order, from the waist down, a vast network of red welts criss-crossed, making him appear plaid by his lower half.

THWACK!

Nearing exhaustion, Taryll's forehead touched the satin ribbon and he exclaimed at the top of his lungs.

“BITCH STOP!”

The torture device was held in mid-air.

“So, I'm a bitch, now?”

An arched brow went up and Taryll went milk white at his slip of the tongue.

“Oh Lord....Ali...Ali....” He pleaded, pupils dilating. “I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it! You know I'd never—AH! AH! AH! ALIXANDRA! AH! AH! STOP! STOP!”

THWACK!

THWACK!

THWACK!

THWACK!

THWACK!

THWACK!

Taryll was doing his best to crawl away and was halfway off the bed, when he found he was retracing his steps, Ali having caught the metal bar between his ankles, dragging him back.

“I didn't fucking mean it, and you know it...” He panted weakly, resting his cheek on his wrists, as sweat glistened all over him.

Circling the bed, Ali rested on her knees and ran a hand through his hair, moist with perspiration.

“You won't cut up and clown about your weight anymore, now will you? You realize you're fine no matter your weight...”

“We're crazy as hell--” Taryll started and recoiled as she tugged on his earlobe.

“Yes, Alixandra...I understand. Jesus Christ!”

“You know I want only you and not your stringy ass brother...”

“Yes, Ali, Baby, untie me...I can't feel my hands...” Taryll asked as she placed a hand on the back of his head, mashing his face downwards, in order to push herself back up.

“I will...” She ran a hand along his jawline. “I'm going to go get some water and if you're lucky...I might bring you some...”

She turned to go and stopped.

And very purposefully rammed Taryll in the face with her backside.

As she skipped out into the hall he called after her,

“I love you, too!”

“Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!”

“TARYLL!”

Ali shrieked, one hand holding onto her lover's neck as he laid fully on her, his cheek against hers, the other digging her nails down into the sinewy flesh of his back.

The entire bed shook as over and over, his pelvis met hers, with bone breaking drills.

The tables had turned; Taryll was logging his revenge for the lashings that had left him raw.

“Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!” He was grunting into her ear, as her legs wrapped his thick middle,with him continuing to flap into her. “Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!”

Her tongue tracing his jawline and flicking at his earlobe, Ali whispered, her own teeth grinding to powder from the beating being delivered,

“Fuck me....fuck me...fuck me....fuck me....”

He....he was so large....had he always been that large?

Ali was more than acquainted with how well-endowed Taryll was, but now with this rekindling act of passion between them, it seemed astonishing he had been able to fit into her entirely.

With each earth-shattering thrust, she was flexing endlessly on him.

“Shit...” The strokes slowed, and Taryll raised up, pressing his hands against the quilted headboard, pumping at her at the reduced pace. His streaked hair tousled, a few strands falling into his eyes he inspected the body wriggling underneath him.

He was so sexy, going at full tilt, taking up the space over her.

Beads of sweat falling from his brow onto hers.

The face, shining and radiating, bottom lip being sucked in, the rose-gold tipped tresses mussed and fanning across the pillows. The delicate, weak grunts.

“You look so good, Ali, Baby....”

The dark eyes, which had been squeezed shut flittered at him and a smile crossed her lips.

He fell back on her, the faster flapping resuming,

“TARYLL!”

His name being screamed was the most thrilling sound in the world to him.

Pepe was still hiding his face on the floor, tail wagging, much like the tail end of his master,as he continued slamming into the warm, enveloping naked little slit.

Using Ali's torso for leverage, Taryll pushed himself upright, still throwing his hips, forcing himself back and forth in her.

Taking hold of her hands, bringing them behind him, placing them on his hard, full, yet pliable cheeks, and winced as her nails dug into the flesh. The welts were starting to go down.

“You like that don't you?” He grinned evilly, as Ali writhed beneath him.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! TARYLL! Oh!”

Bending over her the tip of his tongue flicked across the tender buds that were her nipples.

“Please! Please! I didn't mean to hit you so much! Please! Oh God!”

At the sensation Ali pulled on his ass so hard, he felt a draft on his “third eye”.

Laying down on her, he put his mouth to hers.

“Mmm! Mmm! Fuck, girl...Mmm! So good to me...”

He was sucking on her mouth, putting his tongue down her throat, imposing himself all over, cradling her face in her hands.

“I love you...” Ali whimpered kissing at the tip of his nose as he smiled.

The strokes slowed again, as Taryll wrapped his arms around her, hugging tightly.

“Tar--”

Holding her close, the couple rolled, reversing positions, Taryll on his back, Ali on top of him.

“Aw...yes....yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Ali whined, arching back, hands gripping her tits, throwing her pinkish hair back, as she ground on that loaded shaft, his hands circling her waist.

“Work me!” Perspiration came heavier on his forehead, in clear little drops that trailed off onto either side of his head and hit the pillow.

“Work me! Work me, Alixandra!”

Holding onto her Taryll threw himself rapidly, eliciting another horny scream--

“TARYLL ADREN—Damn it!!”

A sneer came to his face. Ali only included his middle when she was reaching her peak.

She dropped down onto his crushing his mouth with hers, tangling her hands in his hair.

Defiantly, Taryll pulled his mouth away, grunting.

His eyes locked on her face, observing the exact moment orgasm struck her.

“I....I want to hear it...”

Her cheeks darkening, as she bounced against him, her screams became whispers,

“Taryll....Taryll....Taryll....HMMM...”

Her hands dropped down, fingers intertwining with his as he kept his hold on her hips.

A hot gush began to leak onto the blonde curls as Taryll decreased once more, holding Ali's head against his chest as he began to feel that familiar sensation, rising hotly from deep in the smooth, tan balls and making its way to the blessed tip of his thrusting member.

Exhausted,Ali tried to raise up, but strength failing, her head landed in the center of his damp chest, his heart thudding against her ear.

Turning a rude shade of violet, his handsome face balled with a grimace, teeth bearing and gnashing as he tried to control himself.

“Mmm! Mmm! MMM! MMM! AH! AH! GAH! MMM—UHHHHH!”

Ali staring off into the mirror running alongside the bed, smiled smugly, watching breathlessly as Taryll pulled himself from her rapidly , and began slapping his engorged cock against her slim cheeks, until his seed burst forth, hot, syrupy and white, shooting midway up her back, a few droplets landing in the very bottom of her hair.

“Oh....ahhhh....hooo...” Taryll sighed as Ali's head turned to him and their lips touched. “Yes...”

With Ali starting to drift off to the land of nod while still resting on to of him, Taryll picked up his phone, and very, very carefully, he snapped a photograph of his sleeping lover.

She never knew about the secret stash of afterglow photos he had on his phone, much like he was ignorant to her catalog of his ass pics.

Kissing at her forehead, he inspected the picture before starting to thumb at the screen, so as not to jar her back awake.

There was something he had to do...

***

The Following Afternoon

“...I mean, I'm forty-one, I've been embarrassed before, plenty of times, but I didn't even know that level of embarrassment could exist...”

Ali, poised behind the island in the center of her kitchen, wielding a large wooden spoon, which she was using to mix the stuffing for over one hundred servings of her trademark Shrimp Deviled Eggs, couldn't help smiling at the man seated a few feet away at the laquered kitchen table.

Taj Jackson, Taryll's elder brother by three years, had finally returned from his Star Wars pilgrimage.

He may have left Vegas behind, but his favorite film franchise was in his heart as the shirt on his back proclaimed, I Let My Light Saber Do The Talking.

Opening a bottle of smoked paprika and sprinkling it into the bowl, Ali pushed, wondering,

“Well, what happened? You entered the big costume contest hosted by George Lucas....and....?”

Tossing his head, so that his chin-length braids fell out the way of his round face, mirroring his father's so completely, save for his lighter complexion, Taj shook his head derisively, and stared down into the bottle of apple juice in his hands. Light bounced off his R2-D2 wristwatch.

“...well, I won, of course. Got a big four-foot trophy and autograph of the cast for my C-3PO costume...” Taj paused and took a sip before adding dully. “And then Mr. Lucas asked me to take off my helmet so I could see him face to face and shake his hand.”

“Of course...” Ali nearly dropped the smaller bowl of boiled shrimp she was pouring into the mix when Taj scoffed,

“Can you believe I couldn't get the damn helmet off? I spent fifteen grand making the costume and couldn't get my ass out of it? I guess I got hot in it or something, but sweat made it suction and stick to me! Someone had to use a can opener to pry me out! I'm standing there in Death Star drawers and socks shaking hands with one of the greatest film makers of all time! I wanted to sink into the floor!” With a groan, Taj put his forehead to the table.

“Never been so ashamed in all my life! Do you know how many blogs are running that picture right now?”

Ali had to put a hand to her mouth to keep from outright screeching with laughter.

It seemed Taryll's wish for his sibling to become trapped in his costly cosplay really had come true.

“I'm sorry Taj. Look at it this way, I'm sure you made a very lasting impression on your idol.” She snickered, with his shoulders wagging in defeat.

“Oh, shut up, Ali!”

“Hey, Ali!” A cheerfully familiar voice called as the front door slammed. “I'm back—where you at, Baby Doll? Move Pepe!”

“In the kitchen! Taj is here too!” Ali remarked, plucking a plastic spoon from the stack she had been using and disposing of to taste as she went along.

The door swung open, and Taryll came breezing in—his gait marked by a slight limp from his exploits the night before. A long thin box was tucked under his arm.

“Hey Sugar...” He pecked her cheek, before stealing the nibble off the spoon. “That's good!”

“Thank you!”

“Hey Bro!” Taryll patted at his brother's shoulder. Taj's head remained lowered. “What ails you?”

“He had to get cut out of that robot costume he made--” She put a finger to her lips when he whipped around, surprise cloaking him, his mouth flying open to begin crowing.

Taryll grinned with mischief but kept his seven chuckles to himself.

Wisely changing the topic, Ali inquired,

“What's in the box? Is it the reason why you hauled ass out the house so early?”

“As a matter of fact is it, Miss Nosy America...” Taryll returned back to her and laid the box on the counter. Emblazoned on the front was the word Splash with cartoonish droplets.

“First I went by the Verizon store and bought a new phone for TJ to replace the one that got smashed...”

Now it was Ali's turn to show surprise.

He really was trying to rebuild the bridges he'd burned.

“...and then I went to Splash and bought this...”

The lid on the box was removed, and reaching in, he removed a single garment:

A pair of board shorts, bright red, intercut with lines of abstract black and white.

It took a moment for it to dawn on Ali what the shorts meant.

“You...you're going to go to your Uncle Marlon's party tomorrow?” She whispered as Taj raised his head squinting at them curiously. “You changed your mind?”

The blondish head wagged. “No...you changed my mind for me, Ali...if it wasn't for you, I'd still be on the downward glide...and I'll always be thankful to you for that. For making me see what I thought I couldn't. Even if you did get heavy-handed with that whip on my ass.”

Leaning over the counter, his lips met hers lovingly.

“Whip on your ass?” Taj echoed with incredulity from the corner. “What in the hell goes on in this apartment you're alone? I worry about the two of you sometimes!”

Pinching at Taryll's cheek, Ali could only laugh.

They had overcome rapid circumstances that should have destroyed them...and yet survived to come out stronger than ever.

The End.

(Also, don't miss out on the exciting sequel to Thick; Thick 2: Twice as Nice, coming soon!)