Her Little Finger

Written by Michaela Kellerman

I have this feeling in my gut, and it has been nagging me since the end of shift.

I have the key to the front door in my right hand, and I'm just standing there. What's she gonna say when I walk in the door? I know, she's gonna yell at me. I know my girl. Which is why I didn't come home with her. And why I didn't go to the Waterfront for a couple of drinks. She would call and ask Timmy or John or Meldrick if I was there and to get my ass home. On second thought no; No one knows we're together. Okay, Timmy and his wife know. But that is it. Still, when she is this keyed up.

Hell, I'm the one who should be angry! I was the one who got dissed. She told me I was wrong. Okay, she has told me I was wrong before, but respectfully. Today it wasn't "I'm sorry, you're wrong Mikey, " or "I disagree, partner." It was "You're wrong KELLERMAN." She hasn't called me by my last name in months. Her, a rookie, putting me down in front of our colleagues! What is with this Kellerman crap? We live together. We have sex.

To hell with her! I should get my ass back in my car and hit another bar. Or walk. How many bars are there in Fells Point? Maybe I won't stay with her tonight. I still have my houseboat. Just hike on over there and get good nights sleep. Yeah, right. I haven't been in bed alone since I moved in with her, really since I've been seeing her. I'm used to her being there. I mean, one night she had to go to Pennsylvania for some family thing and I couldn't get the day off to go with her; and I couldn't sleep. I held her pillow and imagined her next to me; her silky skin, her gentle breath, her scent. Well, with enough Jim Beam in me I guess I could forget about how soft her skin is..

The heavy door swings open. I'm standing here, freezing my ass off, holding the door key like some mental case, looking up at her. Here it comes Mikey.

"You're just in time." she says. "Dinner's on the table."

That uneasy feeling in my gut just got worse. Dinner's on the table? She's setting me up!

"You better come in." She smiles at me. "I don't want you to get pneumonia."

Well, it is cold, and wet. And a hot meal sounds good, even if Karin decides to go off. Which she will; I just won't talk to her.

I follow her into the kitchen, fixating my eyes on how her jeans cling to her ass. I look up, she's wearing my shirt: the blue one, the one she says make my eyes sparkle.

Focus, Mikey, focus! Just like a woman, play up their body and they think a man will drop to his knees and say Hallelujah! Not that I wouldn't ordinarily: just not today.

She asks me to sit, taking off my coat and jacket, flinging them onto the counter. Ah man, she made me enchiladas. The kind I like, lots of cheese and peppers, with Spanish rice on the side. She pours me a cold brew in a frosted glass. I take a bite. Mmm, delicious. And she tells me she's not a good cook. Coulda fooled me babe.

Fool me. That is what she is doing. Making me lower my guard before she shoots me. I say something stupid like why did she bother to cook for me when she knew I wasn't coming home right away.

"Can't a girl fix her guy his favorite food without a motive?" she replies, playfully offended.

Oh yeah, this is a set up.

We finish our meal talking about.baseball: Yeah, the Orioles. I know, this is Baltimore and a lot of people love the Orioles. Karin hates baseball. The girl lives and breathes the NBA: You wanna know the stats on the 76'ers and Pacers? Ask Karin. But she's asking me about the Birds' pennant chances.

She pours me a cup of coffee. Then she says she will do the dishes, so relax. I can't. She is talking about some fishing tournament thing she saw on ESPN or some other cable sports show like that. There was this guy deep-sea fishing in the Caribbean, and it took him an hour to reel in this monster fish, blah blah blah. All I can do is stare at her. Most of her words don't make it to my ears.

Ha ha, joke is over. Where is my girlfriend and what have you done with her? I mean, she looks like Karin, talks like Karin, moves like Karin.but she sure isn't acting like my woman. Frankly, this is scaring me. I am waiting for the anvil to drop on my head. My gut is turning to mush now.

She is sipping her coffee out of her Daily Grind mug while wiping down the kitchen counter. I look at the side of her face, and I realize how beautiful she truly is. And how I am one lucky man that she noticed me when I know that she can get any man her little heart desired. Men who are smarter than me, richer than me, men who can give her what she deserves. Sometimes, I'll see another man appraising her just a little too much, and I get insecure. I know she'll never cheat on me, because she always makes it clear she is spoken for. Then again, I use to think that of Annie. Why would Karin want me for the rest of her life? She turned down my marriage proposal, saying something lame about me not knowing her middle name. What the hell kind of middle name is Badr?

Stupid me, I'll probably ask her again. And she'll probably say no.

Okay babe, I know what you are trying to do. Game's over hon. I am putting an end to this. I go into the front room without a word. She follows me.. My ass hits the couch, and I stare at her, smirking. "I'm sleeping here tonight." How do you like that Karin?

"Okay." She shrugs her shoulders, walking over to the downstairs utility closet. She tosses me a pillow and thick blanket. "I'm turning in." she announces. "See ya in the morning Mikey."

I see her trudging up the stairs. Look at that strut. Her hips are swaying back and forth oh so subtlety. Okay, I like her strut. But she is still sleeping alone.

An hour passes by. I watch some lame action movie to keep my mind off the bad day I just had. I hear footsteps quietly descending the stairs. Now she's bringing out the heavy artillery.

She's wearing this light blue cotton nightgown with the skinny straps.. The one with little daisies on it.the one that just misses the top of her knee. And she has her hair up, letting some of it frame her face. I feel myself melt. It might as well be some see through number from a lingerie shop on the Block. Hell, Karin could be wearing an old ratty pair of jeans, a plain T-shirt and no makeup and I would still lose control.

I think she must own some stock in Victoria's Secret. Karin loves her lingerie. So do I. Annie and Juliana weren't much on frilly things. But Karin has a couple of drawers full of the stuff. A few days ago, when were getting dressed for work, she put on this skimpy black leather push-up bra underneath her turtleneck sweater. All day I kept thinking of her and that bra, and more importantly, how she looks without it.

"I couldn't sleep." she drawls, stretching a little. "I'm going to make myself some tea. You want anything?"

Want anything? A woman with that kind of body, wearing a short nightgown is asking a healthy, hetero man if he wants anything? Yeah, you with your legs open and me on top of you. But I'm not telling you that.

She blows off my ignoring her. Good! But she isn't yelling at me. Yet. She just walks into the kitchen, being cool. She comes out with some herbal tea, another cold brew, and a big piece of chocolate cake she took home from one of her old patrol pal's baby shower. Now I know this picture makes no sense. Karin is so picky about the food she eats. She doesn't eat doughnuts! A cop who hates doughnuts!

She hands me the beer, says good night, and kisses me on the cheek like she was my sister and not my lover. My blood is boiling as she is returning to the bedroom. Our bedroom, with the king size bed. Probably on my side just make me mad. Whatever babe!

Two hours, and two brews later, I am still wide-awake. I can't help but think about her being upstairs with her feet peeking out from the sheets. Did I say that she has sexy feet? Long toes, high arches, and she paint her toenails these funky colors. I got a pair of toe rings for Karin as a first month anniversary present. She saw some in this kiosk in the Inner Harbor, silver lattice with blue and red stones, so I bought them for her. And she wears them outside the office, around the house. I can't imagine Juliana wearing something like that. Yeah, Karin is unique, very unique. I'll never meet anyone like her again.

Okay, so I'll go upstairs, find something comfortable to change into, and crash out on the couch. I won't look at her.

I open the bedroom door quietly and slip in before she even notices me. But I notice her, asleep, with one foot dangling uncovered off the edge of the bed. She has her hand outstretched, touching my pillow. Watching her lie there, peacefully, I remember the first time we made love. A cool, rainy night in October, both of us soaked to the skin. I suggested a warm shower together. We took our time getting naked. Washing each other, kissing, and caressing: I struggled not to rush into it. I wanted our first night together to be special. We fell into my bed, touching each other lazily until we melt into one body. I remember holding her close, smoothing out her wet hair, looking at her sleeping beside me. The first time I told her I loved her, when she told me she loved me too. But typical me, I had fallen for her long before then. Actually, I loved her from the moment I kissed her. I just knew she was the one. That one day when she invited me in and we had completely unexpected and passionate sex for hours…no way I was letting Karin go without a fight.

A good lay, as us men would say. Sounds like a line a guy would give to a girl to get her in the sack again, but I am sincere when I say this. Karin is the best lover I ever had, maybe ever will have. Sex and Karin are a powerful combination. I find it incredible that she went into her wedding night a virgin. Here's my question: How does a woman who didn't have sex for the first time until she was 23 can, 9 years or so later, have the moves of a porn star. Do I care?

I take out a T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, changing out of my work clothes in the dim light. I was almost home free.

"Leave the shirt off."

I turn, seeing that she was gazing at me with half-open eyes, stretched out on her side, smiling. I ignore her and put the shirt on. "I was just changing" I mumble, avoiding her eyes.

"I see that." She slipped out of the sheets, sitting up, crossing her legs. "So you are going to spend the night downstairs?"

"Karin, don't start." I warn her. If she does, I'm in trouble.

"Start what?" She tilts her head and gives me this innocent look.

"I am not sleeping with you." There, deal with it babe.

She laughs, laughs at me, shaking her head. I really, really wanna hate her. "I was just going to suggest that you sleep in one of the spare rooms. Come on, the couch isn't that comfortable, and it's kind of slippery…"

Interesting that she brought that up. See, one night, we had a little too much booze at dinner, and we started making out on the couch. Halfway through screwing, we fell off and hit the floor. We laughed, embarrassed but not enough to stop fucking. "Yeah, sounds good. I'll do that."

"'K." She shrugs her shoulders, but she acts like she doesn't believe me. Probably because I don't believe it myself.

"Okay." I breathed out.

"Good." She hesitates, but then she flashes one of those smiles at me. The corners of her mouth turn up slightly, a kind of cross between a smirk and a "hi there sailor" grin. "You're really mad at me, aren't you Mikey?"

"Yes, no…I mean." Oh no, it's starting. I look at those lovely eyes and full mouth and I can just feel my resolve melt away. "I just want your respect." I blurt out, trying to sound confident.

She seemed offended, but answered in a low, firm voice. "I respect you."

"As a professional?"

Karin sighs, and then rises out of the bed. She slithers towards me. I can't move. My feet are frozen on the carpet, nowhere to go. Okay I can go to the door, but strangely, I don't wanna. "Okay, " she states seriously while wrapping her arms around my neck. "I respect you as a person. I respect you as my lover. And yes, Mikey I respect you as a cop."

Didn't sound like it this afternoon.

"Now, can I have a good night kiss?' She studies my face and eyes, looking for a reply. Getting none, she decides to sway her hips while pressing herself against me. "What do I have to do?" she purrs," get down on my knees and beg?"

Before I could answer, she had knelt down in front of me, throwing a mischievous grin my way. Her hands slip down into my pants, and she's stroking my thighs. I hold my breath, biting my lip. Damn if I am letting her hear me moan. The girl has magic fingers though. I shut my eyes trying to pull away, but she removed my pants and my boxers. She began kissing me there, slow and even. Mmm babe, that feels so good.

I gather her in my arms, pulling her up to where she standing in front of me. She smiles, acting as though she is expecting me to strip her and take her to bed. Yeah, right Karin. Okay, so you are sexy and beautiful and …

Karin, don't do that. She is kissing me, gently, lingering. Her fingers are massaging my spine slowly until she finds the one spot on my back that drives me wild. Think about something Mikey, anything, don't let her win. Men can have self-control. Now, push her away, leave. I am about to shove her off of me, really: until she lifts up one her long, shapely legs and wraps it around my waist. I can feel her running the bottom of her foot around my ass.

Okay, here is what you need to do Mikey: Take her to bed, play with her a bit until she is ready to explode, then leave her. I threw her down on the bed, straddling her sides. She spread her legs, bending her knees up, locking her ankles behind my back. I see that she is not wearing panties. She reaches down and strokes the inside of her legs, moaning, sighing deeply. I love the sounds she makes when we are screwing, how she moans, cries, screams, shouts out my name in the midst of our passion. .

She is touching herself there, arching her back off the bed from the sensation. Oh God, I have to control myself. Don't give into her manipulation, cos if I do, she will be able to wrap me around her finger without a fight. I don't wanna let that her know that she can. I am doing well, proud of myself until she says those four little words. "I want you, Mikey."

What man can turn down that request? I want you too, Karin, God I need you. I take off my shirt, hating myself, thinking that I am too easy to seduce. If anyone finds out about this…Oh I can hear it…"Kellerman you are pussy whipped. What kind of man are you?" The kind of man who is living with the most desirable woman in the world, a woman who wants to make love to me every day. The type of man who's crazy, hopelessly, deeply in love with his girl.

I stretch out over her, kissing her roughly, removing the nightgown from her body. She touches me, massaging my skin. She guides me into her, moving her hips and pushing my ass down until I am in deep in her body. I feel her tightening, and I begin to screw her hard. We come together twice more that night, once side by side, once sitting down on a dining room chair.

Tomorrow is going to a bottle of aspirin day. I can't move without a different part of my body hurting. Not that I mind, if you're gonna get sore, at least get sore doing something you love. She's asleep beside me, tangled up in my limbs. And I am only thinking one thing: Damn, this girl is good!