Edging Obsession

27

J ules is finishing getting ready upstairs while I wait for Elise and Elliott. I invited them over because I have some news for them and Jules, who hasn’t quit harping on me. It took her five orgasms and me fucking her twice until she relented.

Ever since I learned of my dead wife’s deception, Jules and I have grown closer. I never imagined having a sexual, let alone emotional, relationship like I have with Jules. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. She’s not Karina. Jules is the first person, aside from my brother, who loves me for who I am, flaws and all. She’s never tried to change me, only defending me to her parents’ outrage. From the start, we clicked, and for some odd reason, her mental illness and our D/s relationship has worked.

Of course, my relationship with Elise and Elliott is strained. As much as I don’t give a shit, I can’t ignore them because they mean everything to Jules. I’m hoping my news will diminish some of the anger.

My cook prepared lunch for us to enjoy on the terrace even though it’s snowing out. Heat lamps and blankets litter the outdoor furniture. I figured Elliott likes it out here, and if any animals come out, it will lighten the mood after my news.

I glance over my shoulder at my breathtaking Jules bouncing outside in skinny jeans, thick socks, and a sweater, hugging me from behind, and resting her hands on my abs. I place my hand on hers as I sip the rest of my coffee. Her head relaxes between my shoulder blades, and she begins to rock us. My mind flashes back to Yusuf’s threat, but at some point, you’ll let your guard down, and I’ll be there, catching your lamb, which causes me to tense.

She slides in front of me, snuggling my waist and balancing her chin on my chest. “What’s wrong, Miles?”

I glance down at her warm hazel eyes, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Nothing, love.”

“You’re tense. Didn’t the meeting go well with your brother?”

Instead of bringing the hardness of my life to her, I cup her face and press my lips against her plump ones. My mouth stills on hers until I dart my tongue out, smoothing over the seam, and she opens to me. It’s a calm, sensual kiss. Our tongues roving, lips brushing together. My fingers slide from the base of her neck to the back of her head, massaging and causing her to moan into my mouth. She fists my sweater and melts into me. Time stops. Puffs of fog emit from our mouths.

My fingers wrap through her hair, tugging her head back, and breaking the kiss. “If we keep this up, your parents will find me balls deep in you pussy.”

She laughs, placing her head under my chin, hand over my heart. This woman will be my downfall. I’d kill and die for her. There’s so much more for us to experience. I’m sure one of these days, she’ll be open to group sex, except only with me. Fucking in front of others is erotic, and once Jules loosens up, she might feel the same way.

The doors slide open, and Elise and Elliott hesitantly walk toward us. Jules and I break apart so she can hug her parents, and I acknowledge them with a nod.

Elliott asks, “Isn’t it a bit cold to sit outside?”

“I have the outdoor fireplace and heaters going. Sometimes the animals make their way over to the terrace.”

He actually smiles. “You convinced me.”

My arm stretches toward the furniture by the fire. “Make yourselves comfortable. There are tons of blankets to use. Drinks?”

Elliott requests a beer, and Elise just wants a seltzer water. Jules loves bottled fruit water, so I retrieve one for her. Once they’re comfortable, I sit across from them, and Jules cuddles into my side.

Elise traces her finger over the top of her glass, and asks, “Do you have good or bad news for us?”

There’s no wasting time with Elise. “Good news. I found the biological mother.” They gasp and Jules puts distance between us, so she can take it all in. I glance at Elise and Elliott. “This means I found your biological daughter.”

They swap looks, gazing into their laps, biting their lips, heads rising to peer into the distance. I knew guilt would silence them.

Since no one says anything, I add, “They don’t live far from here.” My eyes meet Jules’ and tears are already bubbling in hers. “Your mom’s name is Elisabeth Rothberg. She’s a single mom, working at a bakery, along with doing seamstress work. It seems the father hasn’t been in the picture.” Then I look at Elise and Elliott. “Your daughter’s name is Anja Rothberg. She attends university.” Elise’s silent tears match Jules’. “Look, this doesn’t change how you feel about each other.” Elliott and Elise survey Jules and she does the same. “You can do whatever you want with this information. It’s up to you whether you want to meet them.”

Jules’ tear-streaked face squeezes my heart. Like her parents, they’re torn between meeting them or leaving the past behind.

She reaches for my hand and asks, “Do you have a picture of my mother?”

Her eyes quickly dart to Elise and Elliott, who give her a smile. Their bodies seem to deflate with her question, as if they’re interested, too.

“I do. Wait here.”

I retrieve the file from the house. Outside, I hand Anja’s picture to Elise and Elliott, and Elisabeth’s picture to Jules. They stare at the photos, sobs catching in their throats, studying each other for approval. Jules reaches over, requesting the picture of their biological daughter, and they take her mother’s picture. They’re all nodding, smiling down at the photos.

Jules swipes at her tears. “Mom, she has your almond shaped eyes and full lips. Her hair is the same midnight color as Dad’s.”

Elise’s emotions catch in her throat, so she pauses before responding. “It looks like you got your mother’s height and slender build. She’s beautiful.” Elise looks up at Jules. “Just like you.”

They return the photos and remain quiet, letting the overwhelming emotions subside. The cook brings out the dishes, and I suggest we eat before any decisions are made. Lunch is silent aside from the cutlery and the soft crunching of snow from the nearby animals. Afterward, we sit back by the fireplace, with Elliott and I drinking beer, and Elise and Jules a margarita. I know what they did yesterday, but I ask anyways. Jules tells me. Elise and Jules giggle when she tells me about Elliott’s reaction to the group sex building. The drinks are loosening them up.

Another round and Elliott leans forward, and out of the blue asks, “If we want to meet our biological daughter and Jules’ mother, how would we go about it?”

“To my knowledge, they know nothing about you or the switch. I can see when Elisabeth is off work, and we can head over there. She’ll be blindsided, except there’s no other way to do it. It’s possible she won’t even believe us. Maybe if she sees Jules, she’ll be willing to talk.”

He sits back, mulling over what I said, and the rest of the conversation is about the concert tour. For the next two weeks, we’re performing locally in Gelsenkirchen, Belgium, and the Netherlands, within reasonable driving distances, so we can all remain at the houses, and I’ll have time for them all to meet.

A fter a couple of days, the three of them decide they want to meet Elisabeth and Anja. I have a driver take us to her neighborhood. One can tell how influential the neighborhood is by the care the town takes in and around the housing. Most of the buildings in the area are Wohnungen—apartments with little upkeep. Jules’ face is up against the car window, staring out as we pass one gray Mehrfamilienhaus—multi-family building after another. Our driver pulls up to the curb of the building, and everyone gradually gets out of the car. I grip Jules’ hand, giving it a slight squeeze, leading the rest of the group up to the door. These older buildings aren’t secure. The chipped wood doors show years of wear and tear. Instead of ringing, I remove a screwdriver from my pocket to pop open the lock on the door.

Jules gasps. “Miles. You can’t do that.”

“Just did.” I tick my head toward the inside of the hallway. “Come on. The people here aren’t as afraid as Americans.”

Their eyes wander over the building and hallway as I make my way to the second floor. There’s a Willkommen mat in front of the door, along with a planter of flowers. Elliott and Elise huddle behind me, while Elise hugs Jules to her.

I knock, pausing to hear the clacking of shoes on the other side. Without asking who it is, the door opens, and a woman whose slightly meatier figure resembles my Jules, stands gaping at us. They have the same full lips. This is a delicate situation, and if I want to win over Elise and Elliott, I can’t be a dick about it.

My hand rests over my heart. “Entschuldigen Sie, bitte. Mein Name ist Miles Nash.” ( Excuse me, please. My name is Miles Nash.) I turn to introduce Elise and Elliott as Jules hides behind her mother. “Wir würden gerne mit Ihnen sprechen.” (We would like to talk to you.)

She closes the door enough to where only her body is visible. “Worüber?” (About what?)

“Haben Sie um den 19. August 1996 in den USA ein Kind zur Welt gebracht?” (Did you give birth to a child in the U.S. around August 19, 1996?)

Her eyes narrow on me, flicking occasionally to Elise and Elliott. “Ich wüsste nicht, was Sie das angehen sollte.” (I don’t see where that’s any of your business.)

Elise steps forward and says in English, “Please. We think you might have our daughter.”

I translate and the woman’s mouth drops open, eyes wide, and she says, “Das muss ein Fehler sein. Bitte gehen Sie!” (This must be a mistake. Please go!)

She’s about to close the door, but Elise’s foot slides forward, stopping it from shutting all the way. “I beg of you. Please hear us out.” I translate as Elise gestures to Jules to step forward. “This is our daughter Jules…” Elise’s voice cracks, yet she continues. “Through tragedy, we recently found out that she’s not our biological child. She was switched at birth.”

The woman’s eyes latch onto Jules, perusing her features, until something clicks. Her lower lip quivers. She lifts her hand to touch Jules’ hair, but Jules steps back.

Her hand drops, and she says, “Dein Haar…” (Your hair…) She methodically eyes the rest of us and opens the door wider, inviting us in.

Walking into a living room, she gestures to the couch and chair. I take the chair, closest to her, and explain who I am and what happened in 1996. Her head bobs in understanding all the while she stares at Jules, who is holding Elise’s hand.

Once done, she says, “My English not good.” I tell her it’s fine. I’ll translate for her and for them.

Speaking directly to Jules, she says, “Your eyes and hair are like your father’s.”

Jules smiles. “Is he here?”

She shakes her head. “No.” It dawns on her that she hasn’t introduced herself. “I’m Elisabeth.”

“Nice to meet you.”

They skim over each other, looking for similarities, absorbing the moment, and connecting the dots. Jules’ hands are shaky. Elisabeth asks Jules about her life, so she explains her happy childhood, her job, meeting me, but leaves out her attempted suicide, stating she had an accident. Elisabeth smiles as Jules talks, occasionally glancing at Elise and Elliott. Then Jules asks Elisabeth about what happened in the U.S. and her life.

“I fell in love with your father. Our backgrounds and beliefs were different, making it difficult to stay together, so we parted ways. Then I found out I was pregnant, but I didn’t tell him. I thought it best. As I grew bigger, I feared I’d run into him and he’d find out, so I flew to visit a cousin in the States. While there, I went into labor a few weeks early, gave birth, then fled the hospital because I didn’t have enough money to pay for my care. What monies I had left, I filed for an emergency temporary passport for the baby and flew home.” She stops, concentrating on her hands. “I’m ashamed to have left like that.”

Jules responds, “You didn’t have the money.”

Elisabeth’s head pops up, smiling at Jules. “You’re kind.” She says to Elise and Elliott, “You did a wonderful job raising her.” Elise presses her hand against her mouth, only able to nod a thank you. Elisabeth’s focus is back on Jules. “When I came back, I found a job and raised Anja.”

“Did your parents help?”

“No. They disowned me when they found out I was dating your father. I shamed them.”

“They shamed themselves.”

Elisabeth stands and asks, “Can I give you a hug?”

Jules rises and they embrace, their bodies vibrating as their tears fall.

Elisabeth puts Jules at arm’s length. “You are so beautiful.”

Jules lets out an embarrassed laugh. “So are you.”

They stand in the middle of the room, holding hands, and Elisabeth talks to everyone. “As Anja grew, I noticed differences in her compared to me. She didn’t look anything like me or your father. She has black hair.” She cocks her chin toward Elliott. “Like yours.” Then her head turns to Elise. “Her face resembles yours. Quite beautiful.” Elise thanks her and she continues, “Even her personality is different. She’s independent.”

“It sounds like you are too.”

“No. I’m more on the quiet side. I did what I had to do to survive and take care of my daughter, but I wanted to be married and have more babies. Anja figures everything out on her own. She rarely asks for anything. My Anja is fearless and funny.” She smiles at Jules. “I fear a lot of things, and I’m not so smart. Anja was top in her class, started making money in high school by dog walking, and gave me half her earnings. We fought about it, so I let her give me the money and opened a savings account for her.”

Elise asks, “Will she be coming home today?”

“Yes. She’s at university.” She glances at the clock. “She should be home in an hour.” Everyone grows quiet for a moment. “But I don’t want to upset Anja. I’ve never mentioned her birth or that I didn’t tell her father…” her eyes fall on Jules, “…excuse me. Your father.” Elisabeth purses her lips, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this happened.”

Elise approaches her. “We can’t either. We also don’t want to upset Anja.” She turns to me. “Miles, do you know how we can approach her?”

Just then, the front door opens with a woman saying, “Ich bin zurück, Mutter.” (I’m back, Mother.)