6. Alexie
6
ALEXIE
Back at the apartment, I revert to being distant towards Caia. She’s made a nice dinner and we’re sitting at the dining table. I push the vegetables from one side of my plate to the other. I cut the pork chop into smaller pieces.
After a stretch of silence, she pipes up. “Hey, is there something wrong? Is the food not good? Something else you’d like?”
My eyes are fixed on my plate. “It’s delicious. I’m… I’m just a little tired. The couch isn’t as comfortable as I thought it would be.”
She tips her head, her caring clear to see. “You can sleep in the bed with me. I promise, I won’t bite.”
“I’m not too sure about that,” I mumble.
She rests her fork on the table. “What do you like to do in your free time and the off-season?”
Her change of subject is a little abrupt, but I’m okay with it. The other topic was way too uncomfortable.
“I go rock climbing, hiking, kayaking. Things outdoors instead of inside a freezing building.”
“Hmmm, not really three things that my ass likes to do.”
“What does your ass like to do?” Without consciously realizing, my eyes are drawn to her.
Her eyebrows rise, and she rocks her head from side to side in thought. “Welllll…”
I pick up where she is going and stop her before we reach that point. I hold up a hand to stop her. “Activities…” I clarify.
“Wellll…” She bats her eyelashes suggestively.
“We can’t have sex, Caia.”
Her shoulders slump as she pouts like a child, told that they can’t have candy at the checkout. “Why not?”
Am I a Snickers bar? Gummy bears? I kind of want to know.
My brain freezes up examining her question. I can’t be honest with her. Won’t.
My medical issues are none of her business. Us being together is just so that I can stay in the States. This will end someday.
“It will complicate things,” I say simply and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms across my chest.
“Like things aren’t complicated enough. At least we’d feel better about the complications.”
She does have a point. But again, I can’t take the chance of her finding out that I can’t do what she’s asking me to. She’d divorce me in a second. I’d be sent back. I’d lose everything I’ve worked so hard for. Everything that means so much to me.
“No.” I don’t elaborate because I can see nothing else will be effective.
She grabs her plate and takes it into the kitchen. “You know what, you can sleep on the sofa,” she says sharply. She marches into the bedroom and slams the door.
She does have one fine ass.
Too bad it can never be mine.
Next morning, I’m rinsing the suds out of my hair in the shower. I turn when I hear the bathroom door open.
“You’ve been in here forty-five minutes. I can’t wait. I have to go, Alexie!” Caia says.
My heart jumps in my chest. “Fine.”
It probably wasn’t forty-five, although I am known for taking long showers. Something about just standing there and allowing my worries to rinse down the drain.
The glass door leaves nothing to the imagination, so I turn my backside to the door.
I continue to wash my body, surprised when there’s a tingling sensation in my groin.
She clears her throat. “I was thinking of getting a different set of sheets for the bed. Yours are basically sandpaper. Are you okay with that?”
My thoughts go to her in my bed. There have been several nights when I could hear her tossing and turning in the bed, wondering if just laying with her would soothe her to sleep. But in this case, it’s probably the sheets.
“Alexie?” she asks softly. “You okay?”
“Da. I was just thinking.”
“If it’s not okay?—”
“It’s fine. Make the room feel comfortable to you.”
“You know that it could be comfortable for you, too.”
“Please, Caia, let’s not go down this road again.”
The toilet flushes and she washes her hands. The door opens, but I don’t hear it close.
“I just want you to know that I find you extremely attractive and I wouldn’t expect roses afterward, but I can wait until you’re ready. I’ll look for different sheets.” Her voice is soft and more gentle than I want her to be. If she’s mad, then I can believe she doesn’t want me anymore and the pressure is off.
The door closes and I collapse back against the shower wall.
My cock twitches and I stand up straight.
What was that?
I put a hand to the tiled shower wall and use the other to soap up my dick. It starts to pulse with a blood flow that I haven’t felt before the damage was done. The doctors said there was a chance there was a small amount of scar tissue that could resolve in the future and the body is a miraculous thing.
But surely not over a decade later?
It starts to hum in my hand and feels… alive.
Maybe there’s a chance.
Maybe I could…
I start to rock my hand along the length and it’s not hard, but it’s definitely not soft. I moan because the feeling is just heavenly. It’s got tingles. It’s got zips and zings. It’s got… so much feeling.
I close my eyes and imagine one shapely woman in the darkness. My breathing speeds imaging kissing those faultless red lips. Her hands in my hair, tugging. Her breasts pushed against me. Her wet pussy dripping on my thigh as she straddles it, rubbing her clit against my.
My breathing becomes erratic. Something is building. Like a volcano is inside of me.
My cock is hard. It’s actually hard.
Knock. Knock. Knock!
I startle from my thoughts.
“Alexie, I’m heading out. Have a good day at practice and I’ll see you after for dinner.”
I can’t talk.
“Alexie, you okay?”
“’M good,” I squeak out.
There’s nothing from the other side but I hear the front door closed.
And my cock is back to flaccid.
She didn’t know she was cock blocking me.
But now I know what I thought was over, might not be.
This might be possible, my sweet. But first, I need some advice on how to proceed.
But who can I trust?