Chapter 6 #2
It’s frustrating. It’s getting in the way of my enjoyment of my new life. But there’s no way for me to fix it, so the next morning I decide it’s time to do some errands.
Mostly to get away from the house for a while.
I tell Mason I need some food from the village and I want to get some of the stuff I stowed away in my hiding places. He appears to believe this is a very good plan for the day. He actually relaxes slightly when he realizes I’m going to be gone for a while.
How flattering. He’s relieved to have some time away from me.
I try not to take it personally. I’m not sure why I would have expected anything different. My father used to like me to hang around with him. He taught me to read and write, and we’d talk about books we read and things he’d written. And Annabelle, of course, has always been happy to be with me.
But no one else. In my entire life. No one else has ever wanted to spend time with me.
Why would Mason be different?
I get more and more upset on my way to the tree that holds my very best hiding spot. I get the papers and books from my dad I hid there before I left for the Capitol. Then I stop by the overturned motor to grab a few more of the bouncy balls for Bill.
I was planning to go directly back to the village from here, but this stuff has made my bag heavy enough that I decide to stop by the house first to unload it.
Mason will be working, so he probably won’t even know I came by.
Bill is off on one of his rambles, and Mason isn’t anywhere in sight as I reach the cottage. I open the door and step in, immediately sensing that something is strange.
I’m not sure what vibes I’m picking up, but they’re so strong I come to a sudden halt.
I listen. Hear something.
Walk carefully toward the sound, which seems to be coming from the bathroom.
Maybe Mason is sick or something. My heart is beating fast, and my breath keeps catching in my throat.
He’s not sick.
The bathroom door is open, and he appears to have just gotten out of the bath. He’s standing naked, facing the wall. He’s got a hand towel in one hand, and it’s braced against the wall. And the other hand is out of sight, somewhere in the vicinity of his groin.
I know next to nothing about men. Little about their anatomy and nothing about their habits. Parents are supposed to teach us once we get old enough, but my mother walked out before she taught us much of anything.
Men have penises. Women have vaginas. That’s what I know.
The details of how these differences are manifested remain a mystery to me.
But I know for sure—no question—that whatever Mason is doing is sexual.
His hand is working vigorously, and his whole body shakes slightly with the motion. His body looks as good as it did in just his underwear. Better, in fact, because I can see the tight flesh of his butt. The trim cheeks clenching rhythmically with his motion.
He’s making soft, carnal grunts.
My body likes the sound of them. And the looks of him right now. My heartbeat leaps into overdrive. My blood pulses so intensely I’m sure I can feel it moving in my veins. And the throbbing is centered between my legs. Deep and strong and achy.
I’ve never felt like this before. Maybe it’s wrong. But I can’t help it, and I can’t look away.
His grunts transform into one long, hoarse groan. His hips jerk fast and clumsy. He’s moved the hand towel down to his groin. I can’t see what he’s doing with it.
Eventually his moan ends and his shaking slows. He gasps loudly, his body relaxing visibly.
My body hasn’t relaxed at all. It’s throbbing. Everywhere.
Everywhere.
I make a raspy sound as I try to catch my breath, and he hears it.
He whirls around, holding the hand towel at his groin.
“I’m sorry!” I burst out when I catch a glimpse of his shocked expression. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you were in here.”
“Why are you back?” He doesn’t sound angry. Just startled and disoriented.
“I was dropping some stuff by here so I didn’t have to haul it into the village. I didn’t mean to… to interrupt.”
He stares at me for a long time. I have no idea what he’s thinking. Then he mumbles, “Give me a minute.”
“Okay.” I turn my back to him. Then hurry into the kitchen. I set down my bag and busy myself finding a place to put my father’s books.
I’m hot all over and still pulsing achily between my legs.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Mason says from behind me, his low voice making me jerk.
I turn around quickly. “No, it’s my fault. I didn’t…”
He’s breathing heavily. His face is as flushed as mine feels. “I thought you were gone so I could do that without you… I’ve been trying to be good.”
“Be good? Was that bad for you to be doing?” Now that we’re talking about it, I feel a little better.
“N-no. But I didn’t know what you’d think about it, and I didn’t want you to feel like…”
I swallow hard. “I hope this doesn’t make me sound stupid, but I don’t even really know what you were doing.”
His eyes jerk up to my face, like he’s checking to see if I’m serious.
I am. My eyes are wide, and I’m completely earnest.
“Oh. It’s… When a man can’t have sex but wants to, he can do that instead.”
I blink. It rings true. I was sure even from the beginning that whatever I saw him doing was sexual. “So you want to have sex?”
He blinks. “Uh, sure. Of course I do.”
I frown, trying to figure it out. “With me?”
“I’m not pushing you. We said we’d take it slow. But sometimes… I need… something.”
“Okay.” I still feel out of my depth. “Well, I don’t know much about it, but I don’t mind if you need to do that.”
“You don’t?”
“No. Why would I mind?”
“You’re so sweet and soft and… innocent. I didn’t want you to feel weird or embarrassed about it.”
“So you weren’t doing it because I’m around? Because you thought I wouldn’t like it?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Oh. Well, don’t stop because of me. I don’t have a problem with it. Do you… When you want to do it, does it feel like I do right now?”
His expression shifts slightly. “How do you feel?”
“I don’t know. All hot and throbby and… and… restless.”
He sucks in a loud breath through his nose. His eyes run up and down my body. “You feel like that?”
“Yes. Watching you made me feel like that.”
“Does it bother you?”
“No. I…” I duck my head. “I kind of like it.”
He takes another raspy breath. “Okay. That’s good then.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I think so.”
We stand across the room from each other, both of us staring down at the floor for a minute.
Finally I manage to say, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t do what you want to do just because you’re married to me. So you can do that anytime you want.”
“I used to do it while I wash up, but I’ve been having trouble keeping quiet about it.”
“You don’t have to be quiet. I don’t mind if I hear.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.” I meet his eyes so he knows I’m serious. Then I realize something. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Because you couldn’t do that enough?”
“I didn’t mean to be grumpy. But, yeah, that’s probably why.”
I feel better after that conversation. Not just because it feels like we better understand each other but because I have an answer for his recent mood.
Poor guy. If he’s always feeling all hot and achy without the means of relieving the tension, no wonder he’s been grumpy.
I wonder what it will be like to have sex with him.
Maybe we can do that soon.
I’d like to find out.
I go to the village to do errands, and then I scrub down the bathroom in the afternoon. Mason is in a better mood at dinner, and he sits in the living room with me in the evening.
He goes to bed when I do, but about an hour later, I hear him in the bathroom. If I weren’t so attuned to every noise because it’s so different from village sounds, it probably wouldn’t have woken me up.
But I hear it.
And I listen.
He’s doing it again in there. I’m absolutely sure of it.
I can barely hear his muffled grunting, but it’s similar to what I heard earlier today. So I start picturing him like he was this morning, naked and jerking his hand in that shamelessly carnal way. The tension of his body building with each clench.
My own body reacts the way it did before, and it gets stronger and stronger as his grunts get louder and closer together.
“Oh fuck!” I hear, the words strained like he’s trying to hold them back. Then he makes one of those long, satisfied moans like he’s finally gotten what he wants.
But I haven’t gotten what I want. My body feels out of control. I shift and squirm and squeeze my thighs together to try to quell the desperate ache, but nothing works.
Finally I slip a hand down there and rub at the source of the ache through the fabric of my underwear. It helps. It feels so good I make a little moan like Mason did. So I keep rubbing, writhing helplessly because the more I rub myself there, the better I feel.
I can’t stop moaning. This must be how Mason feels too. But they get louder, and it’s embarrassing, so I hide my face in my pillow as I rub and squirm and rub and squirm until suddenly all the rising sensations explode in a rush of pleasure so intense it shocks me.
I’m almost crying into the pillow because my body feels so good.
I never knew it could feel like this.
No wonder Mason was so grumpy at not getting to do this.
I can’t wait to do it again.
I hear Mason go back to his bedroom. He must be done. But I’m still pulsing with pleasure between my legs, and my body feels like it’s sprung into life.
I try to go to sleep, but I can’t. So I slide my hand down my belly and rub myself over my underwear until I get that explosion of pleasure again.
I’m able to go to sleep after that.
But I wake up very early and do it once more before I get up.