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Twenty
Eric
Iwhip off the hoodand use the remote to click the red light back on. I peer around the black-painted room to ensure I wasn’t dreaming. Had I just fucked Christa in this room, without her knowing it was me?
Or had she known?
A spicy mix of emotions overtake me.
The first one is elation. I had sex with my girl! The very thing I’d been dreaming about and jerking off to for the past six months. But that high is quickly deflated when I realize she was here, in the Mile High Rooms, willing to fuck a totally random stranger.
What had she been doing while I was gone? How many times had she been here?
Sure, it was obvious how she got access—clearly my sister hooked her up. But why?
Why not?My brain taunts me.You fucking abandoned her, you idiot. You have no right to judge.
My conscience is right. I really don’t. It still stings, though.
I heave out a sigh and get up, get dressed, and leave this room of pleasure and pain before someone else comes in. I glance at the many tools and whips hanging from a board in the corner and shudder.Not my scene.I secure the mask back over my head, made of thick black cloth, with two holes cut in for the eyes.
As soon as I leave, two women in French maid costumes swoop in and go to work changing the linens.
I wander around the club looking through the two small holes of the mask. I’m not sure why I feel the need to obscure my identity, but it seems tonight it was a win.
Or was it?
I stalk out the front door and suck in a lungful of the cool Colorado night air. I’m glad it’s not snowing as I whip off the mask, fold it, and shove it into my pocket. My Audi waits for me and I get in, punch the gas, and head toward my condo.
Carter had installed that app on my phone a long time ago, right before I got with Christa. So I never used it. I’ve been back a week and never had the balls to use it until tonight. I hadn’t heard from Christa since I returned, and I lost my nerve to contact her, unable to hear that she had most likely moved on, so I decided to go to the Mile High Rooms for a release. I never thought in my wildest dreams that I’d see her, but there she was. That mask hid nothing from me. I’d know her body anywhere—albeit a bit thinner than I remember.
I can’t even smile at my time with her because she thought she was fucking some random, and I had gone there hoping for the same. I’m a terrible person, undeserving of her. But did she really think she could hide those tattoos?
We both suck. But me more.
I park in the garage and close the door, heading into my house. I toss my things on the kitchen counter and grab a glass of water from the fridge dispenser. I lean against the counter as I sip it, wondering what I should do.
The Mile High Rooms won’t be around for another month now. It’s not like I could go there tomorrow and see if she shows. It’s one night a month. I have a brief thought of driving to her house and confessing everything. Guilt starts to sink in that I’d deceived her. Purposely deepened my voice and spoke low so she wouldn’t recognize me. Flipped off the red light so we could be plunged into darkness while we fucked. I was afraid she’d recognize me and this wasn’t how our first reunion was supposed to go.
“Fuck!” I slam the cup into the sink instead of throwing it against the wall like I want to.
I stalk to my room and quickly change into loose shorts and a T-shirt, then grab my keys, wallet, and phone, and drive to the 24-hour gym.
Getting back into working out has been hard. I’m sore all the time because I’m pushing myself. I need to get my bulk back, I seem scrawny when I look in the mirror and my stomach is too soft for my liking.
I spent six months without access to a gym, and I need to be kinder to myself. Hard runs over rocky dirt ground and some sit-ups and pushups were all I managed in Kenya, and as I lift the weight over my head, there’s nothing like the resistance of weights that my muscles need to attain the physique I want.
After thirty minutes of weights, I run on the treadmill for another twenty, trying to sweat out my horrible behavior from earlier tonight. To try to expel the thoughts of the way Christa’s fingers ghosted over my chest as she rode me. The feel of her sweet pussy fitting my dick so perfectly. The moans that spilled from her lips.
I shake my head and increase the time, running faster until my lungs burn and my thigh muscles smart with every pounding step. I up the volume of “Bodies” by Drowning Pool blasting in my ears. I gaze at the television mounted a few feet away showing some kind of cooking show.
Anything to get my mind off of what I did.
But it doesn’t matter. What happened is going to be forever burned in my brain, and what’s more infuriating is the fact that I don’t want to forget it. That first burst of pleasure after so many months of deprivation was what I needed. And it was with the girl I wanted it with. I’d just deceived her, even if she was there of her own volition.
