13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
I parked in my assigned carport and ran and skipped to my condo. I started up the shower to make it nice, warm, and steamy. He had seen me, red-faced, drenched in sweat. And honestly, these bike shorts weren’t doing my softer body any favors. But he told me I had a pretty face, and it rattled me to my core like I was a teenager. If we were going to have an adult playdate, I needed to feel like my best self, even in the most absurd sense.
I dug out my waterproof eyeliner and mascara to touch up my eyes and put on a little lip stain. After tugging my hair out of its ponytail, I finger-combed it into something—mainly a sweat-soaked mass with a dent in it from my hair tie. I posed for the mirror. His dark gaze etched into my memory as I bit my lip. The way he touched me—my lips, back, pussy. I grabbed the counter, reliving it.
Listening to my shower run and contribute to the desert wasteland of the future, a twinge nestled into my chest. He could’ve lied. Promised he’d come over only to not. And there was the other side of me that was like my teen self, the perpetual anxiety and disappointment brought on by the masc individuals who I pursued and let me down.
Wine dulled anxiety, so I moved to my kitchen and opened a bottle of merlot. If I drank half a glass with no sign of Beau, I’d take that as a sign to step into the shower alone, not to hope for the eternal affection of a young Adonis and live the rest of my years holding the memory of getting fingerblasted by the prettiest little fuccboi ever.
I lifted the delicate glass by the stem and sipped. Merlot was a smooth, dependable wine. Not too overpowering. I didn’t need much to be happy at my age. So what if a twenty-something-year old went back on his word ?
Music. Gentle, ambient music was what the situation called for. Anything to gargle out the bad taste in my ears after the naked themed ride. Another hearty sip, I got out my towels and tested the water temperature in my hands. Welp, shower alone. I peeled my Spandex off and—
Ding dong! I snagged a foot in my bike shorts as I bolted to the door wearing my towel. I stuffed its edges under my armpits to keep it from falling to the floor, in case it was some unexpected package delivery. But the video from my doorbell app confirmed, I had a sexy man in green on my doorstep.
I opened the door. Of course, he leaned on the door frame, wearing his Evergreen zip-up jacket and still the messy clothes he worked out in. “I see that I overdressed.”
“Get in here. It took you long enough.”
“I stopped to get some of these.” He took a giant box of condoms out of his jacket pocket. “You said you weren’t sure if you had any.”
“Well then.” I snatched the box from his hands. “Get naked and get in my shower.”
My towel dropped to the floor, and he lifted me toward the direction of the shower. He kicked off his shoes in transit and wiggled out of one set of his bike shorts. He placed me on my feet in my bathroom, and I helped him out of his shirt. I stepped into the shower and ran the stream of water over my head and boobs, where it gathered along the creases of my thighs.
Usually when I took a good look at myself naked, I noted the things I could work on or the stuff I would suck out, stitch, and staple if I had the money. When Beau looked at me, I was proud of this body I had spent so much time in. I even found myself peacocking for him, squeezing my tits together and pinching my nipples. “You like what you see?”
He nodded, his lurid stare fixed on my body as he took off his socks and peeled his compression shorts off. He was so beautiful it was unreal. And my pussy pulsed a bit watching his dick move between his legs as he tore a condom from the long line of them. He stepped in the shower with me and placed the condom square on the divot for soap. I let him get the warm stream of water on his head and body. He flicked his hair back, looking like some ruffled feathers of the cockatiel cartoon. “Well then, indeed."
I kissed him a bit too sweetly, and we held each other under the stream of water for a while. Why weren’t we immediately going for each other’s genitals as we had back at the studio? I wasn’t sure. For me, I was saying, with my head nestled in the space between his collarbone and shoulder, that it took a marathon to get here. Not the cycling class or the strength-training sessions, the marathon of a stale relationship, miscarriages, an indifferent divorce, and finally standing here brave enough to be vulnerable again, if I’d ever been vulnerable with Chris.
I stroked his perfect jawline and admired the way the water stuck his eyelashes together. He still was a cinnamon roll, puppy-eyed man, but I liked how he could be a little bit of everything. Brooding, jealous, dark but still be this ray of sunshine for me. Part of me felt he echoed similar feelings—that in this quiet moment before we were going to ravage each other, we were promising not to hurt each other.
His sweet expression turned smug again. “Did I mention I’m an excellent boob washer?”
With a glob of soap, he went straight for my tits, rubbing my nipples until I let out a sigh. He glided his hands over my arms, belly, and back, lavishing me with attention. I bet he cleaned under my nails, but I was so transfixed with how tender he was.
My turn. I didn’t want to rush. As a doodler, I simplified the shapes of humans and creatures to a simple curve. The details I tended to smooth over were the best parts, the tendons and veins in his strong forearms, how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, that his aquiline nose had a slight crook to the left, and his smile creased his right side more than his left.
Parts of him were superhuman: his thick trapezius muscles, rippling rhomboids, and the pronounced groove of his latissimus dorsi. I could've aced that muscular system test in biology for non-majors. Because unlike the information that went through one ear and out the other in biology class, I wanted to name all of Beau’s muscles. Put a stake in them with my kisses and fingers. I grazed my nails across the small patches of hair on his chest and down to his shallow belly button.
I reached for his cock, and he hissed.
“How do you like to be touched?” I murmured between kisses.
“Anything from you is great,” he said almost dreamily.
The piss-taker in me couldn’t help herself. He set it up, here came the punchline. “So, I should slap it, scratch it, leave bite marks, twist your balls?”
His ab muscles tensed. “Oh, ho, ho, ummm, no. Unless you really want to?” His brows formed with concern.
“No, but I’m asking for feedback.”
“I like to be touched here.” He gave himself short strokes right under the tip of his penis. I learned more about him. Beau wasn’t circumcised, so his skin moved as he showed me.
“Like this?” I joined his hand and hooked my other arm around his neck. He leaned against the tile wall of the shower, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. The water from the shower cooled. I didn’t have the water heater of wonder, but the cooling water mixed with his warm arousal.
I kissed the soft spot between his jaw and ear. He whimpered. I felt powerful. “Want me to keep going?”
He nodded, and his head rolled back.
“I’ll finish you off like this. Then I’ll take you to my bed and give you my mouth and pussy. By the end of the weekend, I’ll have wrung you dry.”
“Please.” His abs heaved, and his mouth dropped as he released over my hand.
I raised my hand between us; he watched me with sleepy eyes. I licked the soft skin between my thumb and index finger with a hint of his semen.
“Did I do a good job?” I knew I did, but I had internalized his praise so much over the last month, I needed to hear it from his satisfied mouth.
“Even in a warm-up, you gut me. You’re such a quick learner. Such a good girl.”
I turned the now ice-cold water off. “Even I have enough mental clarity right now to know you overdid that.” I stepped out of the shower and dried off, taking my sweet time as I really liked the way he looked at me.
I handed him a towel, and he dried and then tucked it around his waist. I combed at my tangles and watched as he ran his fingers through his hair. His coif reached its glorious height with a towel dry and flick back. I loved his stupid hair.
“Am I spending the night?” he asked.
“We take the evening as it goes.” I casually moisturized my skin, not the full-on slug I had planned. Beau may have seen my face covered in sweat, but seeing me covered in every moisturizer in the drawer in my bathroom was a Jedi-level of relationship that we were not ready for. Like, yes, he could put his tongue on my ass but see me fully moisturized and face masked? Nope.
“I’m asking because I really need to take my contacts out. I could wait until I get home or—”
“You have to wear your glasses.” That Clark Kent thing he had going for him did me in as much as his praise.
He smirked. “You like my glasses?”
“I love your glasses,” I replied, unthinking. I’d call that a rookie mistake—how easily I blurted the word love in a purely sexual relationship. Yeah, I knew I was referring to an object associated with him. But let’s be real, once a person threw that word around, I was not too long from drawing hearts around his name in a notebook. Red nervous blotches spread from my chest to my neck.
Bless him, he didn’t make much of it except to continue his smug smile. “I have another problem. I didn’t really come with an extra set of clothes.”
“You really hurried over here?”
He blinked out a “no-duh.”
“I have the perfect solution.”
One unpacked box of merch later, we were nestled in my bed—me in the PJ set with cartoon foxes all over it (not one of my designs), him in my high school gym shorts—seriously, the elastic and polyblend of it was magic—and an unsold T-shirt of mine. The shirt had a duck neck deep into a bottle of wine. Doodled across the top, Wine not? Mommy has corked up trauma.
I sat with my back against his chest, his legs bracketed me in on each side. I skirted my fingers along one of the scars on his leg.
“When did the accident happen? You mentioned college. ”
“Sophomore year. Spring break. I never really did anything wild for spring break—more like went home to save money. I was on the freeway, and before I knew it, the jaws of life were getting me out of the car. I learned a distracted driver switched lanes right into me, and I spun off and rolled over.”
“You could’ve died.” I squeezed him a little harder.
“Nearly did. But I try not to think about how scary and lonely going through that was. What got me walking again—got me out of the house—was knowing I lived to breathe for another day. So, I guess that’s why I can be a bit… insufferably sunshiny.”
“You’re the right amount of sunshine.” I kissed my hand and rubbed it along his scars.
“Still have some pins in my legs.”
“You’re a partial tin man with a heart.” I put my ear against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. “What were you studying in college?”
“Acting.”
I laughed. I could see the girls, boys, and enbys laying themselves down before him, the pretty boy actor. “That tracks.”
He grimaced. “But it wasn’t there for me when I was injured, acting. Bruised? Swollen? Not able to walk? They wanted nothing to do with me. ”
It was hard to imagine a reality where no one would want Beau. “Do you ever think about going back to it?”
“I kind of apply it when I’m leading a class. But you know the reality of art—takes money to make it between gigs. I think I make more now than I would be acting, and I’m not exactly rolling in it.”
I thought of the boxes of my failed business project that were reduced to one. Chris could only take so much of the stench of failure from me. “Kind of like how I’m an artist when I design a business card or a charity T-shirt. I’m not living the dream, but I’m living.”
He kissed the top of my head; his fingers tingled my skin as he stroked my scalp. From this angle, he could probably see the silver streaks of my roots. When I first married Chris, this is what I thought marriage was going to be like—cherishing someone even as their cells broke down and sagged.
“Sir?”
“Hm?” My fingers still danced along the discolored part of his skin, where the scar was on his leg.
“Why did you say you were broken that night?”
A lump formed in my throat. I was glad he couldn’t see my face. “Oh, you know, the mountain of failure that is my life.”
“Art that didn’t quite take off and a divorce? ”
I nodded, but I realized the way he said it, he wasn’t convinced.
I wasn’t quite ready to connect the dots for him and explain that after the miscarriages had terrified Chris and me from sex, our weakened marriage crumbled when Claire offered him an escape route. She was someone successful, serious, and whole. “I feel like this conversation is sucking the sexy out of the room.”
He directed me by my chin to tilt my head toward him. “Hm, I find learning more about you very sexy.”
“You have an answer for everything.” I closed the gap between us so our lips bristled together, featherlight.
And he kissed me on my nose. “Yep.” The weight shifted in the bed. He was grabbing my e-reader off my nightstand. “Let’s see what we have here.” He pressed the button to open it. “ Submissive to the Moonman . Dear Christ, I thought you were making up those titles.”
I crawled over his lap to snatch my e-reader back, but he maneuvered it out of my grasp. He began reading it. Klaxx whispered in my ear something I didn’t understand, but the way he sent pulses to my cun—
“This is absolutely filthy!” He looked at me with that smirk of his, which seemed to say, naughty girl .
He continued,
His silver-colored hand pushed me on the middle of my back, guiding me to the exam table to be probed in the most depraved way.
He set the e-reader on his lap. “Do you just read this or do you…” He waggled his eyebrows as his voice dropped off. His coy little way of asking if I masturbated to my alien erotica.
“I dot dot dot to it. Yes.”
“With your fingers?” He drew my hands to his lips and kissed my fingers.
“Sometimes. Other times I count on—” I grunted as I reached over his lap to my nightstand drawer. Inside were Ole Reliable and Georgia the Destroyer of Clits, the new job title I gave my recently acquired gadget. “This and this. Accessories have a way of enhancing self-exploration.” My toys rolled together in the sag of the mattress between us.
He picked up Ole Reliable and studied her. “You work this inside you?”
“Not all the time. I mostly like the vibrations.”
“Where do you like to feel it?” The way he breathed that out had my complete attention .
I unbuttoned the top of my PJ shirt. “I like to feel it against my tits, along my stomach, thighs.”
He handed me the e-reader. “Read your favorite part.”
“Okay?” He propped my back up with enough pillows to place me in a comfortable recline. Perfect for reading with my elbows tucked to my side. He sat facing me, one of his long, sinewy legs hanging off the bed.
His fingers, longer than a human’s, ghosted along the hem of the hospital gown, right where it tied in the back. I rested my cheek against the table. The metal cool—
As soon as I heard a click , the vibrator buzzed. Beau had turned it on.
I hugged the e-reader to my chest and scoffed. What was he brewing in that pretty little head of his?
“Keep reading,” he said.
I licked my lips and scrolled back to the place I left off.
The metal cooled my cheek. I flickered my gaze up, meeting the lavender hue of his irises. His eyes were larger and possessed in them something more profound than I had ever seen in a human man. His anime gaze scanned my body, the galaxy-shimmer of it fixed to the ties of my gown .
Beau tugged at my top, unbuttoning each button, laying my boobs out for display. He dragged the silicone cock down the curve of my breast. My voice hiccoughed as I continued to make my way through the passage.
His slender fingers caressed from my cheek to my back and pulled the ties. At first—
I bucked off the bed. A vibrating sensation honed in on my nipple. What the—? Ole Reliable had grazed my tit. I swallowed and continued,
At first, he tenderly traced along the furrow of my spine. Why did it take an extraterrestrial to make me truly feel like a woman? His otherworldly strength ripped away the flimsy lace fabric of my panties.
My breath hitched as Beau smoothed the vibrator along my stomach, faint tremors traveled to my sweet center. He drew a line along the crease of my thigh, a light touch breezed my folds.
I read,
He rasped something once more that I did not understand, but he blinked slowly, reverently at my glistening, pink entrance. I’d like to think he was in awe of my body.
“Fuck!” I moaned.
Beau buzzed it across my clit. “It’s getting good now.”
Awe- awe of my b-body. Then his fingers probed my nether lips.
Beau lowered my shorts and freed them from my feet. Naked and spread out for him, I let him drag Ole Reliable around the other thigh.
One—one entered me. Softer and gentler than any human hand that had touched me. Klaxx’s species didn’t grow fingernails the way we did. His velvet smooth finger played around the ridge. When he added a second finger, I bit hard on my lip to prevent myself from—
My mouth dropped. I dug my heels into my comforter, kicking it into bunches. He glided the vibrator up and down my seam.
Prev-prev-prevent myself from fucking his beautiful fingers.
Beau teased the tip at my entrance.
Klaxx dug his fingers into my ass cheeks, spreading them apart. His loincloth dropped to the floor. “Please,” I whined. “Please let me show you how we humans make love.”
Ole Reliable disappeared inside of me, the base with the rabbit-ear-like tendrils tickled my clit. I shifted my hips to try to gain control, to keep the wild sensation from seizing my whole body. I was going to read like I was told to because I needed to hear him tell me what a good job I did—to call me " good girl." He’d push my body to the limit, and I’d still ask for more.
His ridged and pebbled cock penetrated me. I already felt so stretched around his much more ample member. “Not—not all of it.” Klaxx grunted. With one more thrust, he was inside me to the hilt. I worked myself through the pinching pain.
“Beau, I’m going to come. I—”
He turned Ole Reliable off and tossed it to the side. “I want to feel it.” He whipped his glasses off as if he was going to save the world.
I chucked that e-reader to the floor. We scrambled taking his shirt and shorts off with desperate tugs and ripping open a condom package. Sheathed in latex, he played around my sensitive vulva. He notched himself inside; I squeezed my legs around his ass. With one more thrust, he was inside.
“You feel amazing,” he said breathlessly, stilling himself.
“How good have I been?”
“Such a good girl. My God, the way I feel you pulse around me.” His pace picked up; his thrusts deepened. He cradled my head and held me so snugly. “The sexiest woman.”
High-pitched sighs escaped his throat as he rocked faster and faster .
This time, I wasn’t in a closet. I could unleash all the tension that had built up. I wailed. Sorry not sorry, neighbors.
“Too good. Too good, you’re clenching me. Oh shit, I’m not going to last.” He pumped into me, gripping my hips so hard, I’d have a bruise. The sounds he made as he climaxed made me so drunk. I could turn the rock star of cycle class into a puddle of a man.
We remained tangled together for some time, him still inside me. As the high wound down, I said, “Beau, you should—”
He rolled off me and lay back. Eyes closed, he slid the condom off and tied it, but he held it in his hand, sighing and grunting as if he needed to catch his breath.
Didn’t exercise addicts like him have a bit more stamina? And at his age! “I wore you out.” Honestly, I impressed myself.
“I’ll recharge in no time.” His chest moved up and down.
“You’re absolutely winded.” I laughed. At first, it was small, and then I shook. Tears rolled out of my eyes. “You need to do more cardio.”
“In my defense, I never fucked to alien erotica, so color me pleasantly surprised.” He then wrestled me to the bed to prove he had stamina .
After an additional round of orgasms, we ordered noodles and bao that were delivered to my door. In my kitchen, Beau showed off his dexterity with chopsticks. I bit into a morsel of bao, juicy with the perfect ratio of green onion to pork. Beau dangled a whole noodle above him, tilting his head back to slurp. He sucked it in, the noodle retracting into his mouth. A stray end clung to his lips.
“You’re such a dork,” I said. But of course, I was enraptured by how adorable he appeared, eating noodles like an utter trash panda.
Sexually satiated to a degree that didn’t feel humanly possible and a belly full of good Chinese food, I dozed off in Beau’s arms. I was his little spoon.