Chapter 13
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Lyra
I leaned back in the shower, allowing the warm cascading water to envelop me like a comforting embrace. Steam filled the small space, creating a sanctuary where I could let the heat and solitude ease the emotional turmoil of the morning. And what a morning it had been, one that would stay in my mind forever.
As the water flowed over my face, gently brushing away the tears that had welled in my eyes, each droplet carrying a weight of its own, I tried my best to relax and focus on the present.
But it was hard.
So. Damn. Hard.
The atmosphere in the shower mirrored the whirlwind of emotions I”d experienced, a surreal dream that I”d never be able to wipe from my mind.
Not that I really wanted to. In fact, some of it I”d like to relive again, for example, my time with Zalantha. Encountering a hot and sexy extraterrestrial being in my car, an otherworldly encounter that left me bewildered (and very horny), was mind-blowing. The unexpected sensation of attraction that followed, a magnetic pull that defied logic, left me questioning reality.
Where the hell had he gone?
I hoped he hadn”t returned to his planet already. I still had many questions, including how he seemed to know so much about me, and whether he wanted me to ride him properly.
Second was Duncan. Saving his life had become a turning point, a moment of vulnerability and shared truths that transcended the boundaries of ordinary conversation. In opening up about my struggles, I”d inadvertently become a lifeline for him, saving him from despair. The weight of that responsibility hung in the air, juxtaposed against the ethereal ambiance of the shower.
Third was Charlie. His reaction upon seeing me after admitting I had a drinking problem was inspiring. His expression was etched with concern and curiosity, but he stood by me like a true friend.
As the droplets danced on my skin, I rubbed soap over my body to ease the pain inside my soul. I wanted to forget about my reality and go to a foreign planet with Zalantha, somewhere surreal and exciting where we could be alone.
I pictured my muscular alien by my side in the shower, his smooth, hairless skin pressing on mine, and my pussy pulsed with need.
I imagined him behind me, pressing his growing length on my back as he cupped my breasts and tweaked my hardened nipples.
I wished I could reach back, grab his heavy cock and guide him between my legs.
I pictured turning and gazing into his alien eyes before we kissed.
I wondered how his lips would feel pressing on mine, how his tongue would taste in my mouth.
As I pressed my hand between my legs, I moaned aloud. My pussy was wet as hell, hot and horny for my purple alien.
”Where are you?” I whispered, wishing he was close, wishing he could drive his pulsing length where I needed him.
Sliding two fingers inside my wetness, I curled up, pressing on my fleshy point. I pretended to wrap my legs around Zalantha as he fucked me, thrusting hard and fast, filling me with his alien power.
As my orgasm approached, I panted deeply, imagining him sliding his throbbing cock into my wet pussy. Rubbing my clit in firm circles, I imagined his tongue lapping up my cream, tasting me.
And then, wham, bam thank you, Mam, I came hard, my pussy spasming and throbbing around my fingers.
But it wasn”t enough.
I needed more.
I needed Zalantha.
Once my release had oozed from me, reality hit hard; I was alone in the shower, and Zalantha had disappeared. Emotion welled in my chest. How was I supposed to face the rest of the day, or even my life, without him?
I closed my eyes to get some perspective, but weird flashes of Mom sprung into my mind. I saw her drifting away, floating in the sky. Then, the sky turned gloomy, and she started to thrash about, calling for me.
”Lyra, help me, please,” she cried as the sky opened up and began to suck her in.
”No, Mom, no.”
My eyes pinged open, and panic took over. I looked around, hoping to see Zalantha standing outside the shower in his tight black shorts, but I was still alone.
”Are you coming out?” I asked.
The silence was painful, like when you realize you”re alone at night and want someone to cuddle up to, but no one was there to hug.
I couldn”t stand around moping all day, though. I had to push myself to take action. I”d had an emotional morning, but maybe after some rest and food, I could continue the day in a decent state.
I turned off the shower, reached for my white, fluffy towel, and curled it around my head. Then I grabbed another one and wrapped it around my body.
Steam poured from the shower as I left. My stomach rumbled. It was lunchtime, time to eat and maybe squeeze in a glass of wine.
Oh, no, you don”t, Lyra. There it was, my first haunting trigger of the afternoon. My mind had automatically connected alcohol with eating. But I”d reacted differently. I was stronger.
Once dry, I dressed into light blue underwear, black leggings, a red vest top, and a purple hoodie and walked into the kitchen. I went to the fridge and opened the door to check what I had. A bottle of wine caught my eye, calling for me.
An image of Duncan weeping on the floor, his wife cuddling him, powered in my mind, warning me not to give in to the next trigger. I wondered what Duncan was doing, hopefully sobering up, getting clean to save his life. He was a good man. It wasn”t fair that he”d been caught in the trap like many of us.
I took out the bottle and looked at the alcohol content. Only 13.5%. Such a small number for such a disastrous effect.
I opened the bottle and began to pour it down the sink. The potent smell darted up my nose, making me queasy.
Part of me wanted to stop and pour it down my throat, but I held off until it was all gone.
Had I already drunk my last drink?
I looked around, searching for more of my stash. There were bottles of gin and warm beers for when people came over. I wasn”t a beer person, so I”d leave them for another time, but I got rid of the gin, pouring it away in large potent gulps.
Placing the empty bottle of gin on the kitchen surface, I thought of Mom. I had to give her a call and see how she was doing. I picked up my cell and rang her, but she didn”t pick up. I hoped she was napping and not drunk, sprawled out on the floor in a boozy stupor.
Once I”d eaten, I”d go see her before my next job.
I turned my attention towards making a quick meal, but my cell rang. My heart lifted when I saw who was calling.
”Hey, Charlie,” I said with a smile.
”Lyra,” he said, his voice desperate. A wave of anxiety rushed over me.
”What”s up?” I asked, frowning.
”You”re never going to believe this. You have to come to the clinic quick.”
”Why, what”s happened?”
”I can”t explain it. You”ll have to see it with you own eyes. But it”s fucked up, seriously fucked up.”