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I wish Joel would let me show him. Play with him. I wish he’d claim me.
I wish Candy would hold me as he does, that she’d ride me and take me inside her. Fold me into her.
That I’d be fucking crushed between them. Punished and accepted. Lost in the pleasure and heat that’s spreading down my dick into my balls, that’s tearing me apart as the dildo brushes that spot inside me that makes me see stars.
I arch helplessly on the bed, my cock swelling more, tightening to the point of pain, and I fist it, stroke it, a wail leaving my throat when it jerks in my hand.
All this tension of the past weeks, all this unrequited lust. It bursts out of me in burning pleasure, hot cum coating my chest, hitting my chin.
Yes. Give it to me. Fuck me, dammit, J.
But he’s not here. Nobody’s here, and after it’s over, I curl on my side, throwing an arm over my eyes. They sting.
No, goddammit. I shouldn’t allow myself to sink. I really should stop torturing myself like that. Stop imagining he’d be like this with me.
It’s just sometimes I wish… I wish I didn’t feel so damn alone.
***
“You okay?” Candy asks me next day at work. It’s Saturday, and we’re busy, people stepping in and out of the shop, checking out books and stationary.
“Sure.”
Except for the near-blinding headache, and the way the room spins sometimes when I look up too fast, I’m peachy. Pity-party is over. My fault if I can’t accept things as they are, if I can’t appreciate how lucky I am. It’s as if I’ve forgotten how my life was a few years ago.
Can’t let that happen again. Need to remember, always remember, and be fucking grateful.
“You left suddenly yesterday. Is everything okay?”
I turn and start walking toward a customer who just entered. Her concern both burns and soothes, and I want it way too much. “Fine.”
Pushing away what I want is second nature. I often fail, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. Because what you really want will end up killing you. From the inside. Slowly.
I’m done with death.
The problem of the fucking GED, though, remains, and when Donna finds me later on, I tense up. She only nods at me and continues toward her office, leaving me to sag against a bookshelf.
I need to study, get a few more books I need. It was never urgent. I never needed a diploma to work in bars and coffee shops, so I never made it a priority.
The worry buzzes inside my skull like a wasp. I drop a book, then I drop the electronic card reader, earning me a frown from Donna.
Great.
I jerk when a hand touches mine.
“Take a break?” Candy asks.
“What for? It’s almost closing time.”
“I know. The store’s empty. Come on.”
She’s pulling me outside before I remember that I shouldn’t. That it’s a fucking bad idea. My brain’s fuzzy with the headache, and a bad night’s sleep and a long day worrying aren’t helping. My reactions are slow.
Has to be why I let her drag me to a bench down the street and push me down on it, then proceed to clasp my hand between her smaller ones.
It was a moment of weakness, okay? Won’t fucking happen again.
In fact, I pull my hand free and start to get up, when she throws her arms around me, all but climbing onto my lap.
