underneath my fingers again, but I don’t want to wake her. I move a thick strand of hair off her face and just look at her. She’s even more striking when she’s sleeping. The curve of her jaw calls out for me to kiss it.
The sun is coming in through the window and I know it’ll be up fully any minute. The light will come in and hit on the bed in the exact spot where she lies. Her skin will catch the light and I’ll lean in and breathe her scent. That same hair I think about running my fingers through will light up around her face. I let myself lift the sheet up and look at her ass, her long legs. My dick throbs painfully, full of want of her and the need to piss.
I pull my arm free carefully; she stirs a little and pulls the sheet back up over her body. I walk to the bathroom and relieve myself. The mirror greets me with that same old face, the face I selfishly hope she’s dreaming about. I wash my hands and then rub them over my eyes, washing away the night. Jack, old boy , I think as I stare at my reflection. You've let that girl put something on you . I smile in spite of what it means.
I go to leave my bedroom as quietly and quickly as I can, but can’t do it before pausing to watch the sun filter through the window like I knew it would. The strands of her hair seem to glow and her skin looks so soft, so kissable right now. I could move that sheet aside, push my t-shirt off her body and fuck her until she can’t walk. I know she’d let me and that’s why I fight the urge to do it.
In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and down it in one drink. The muscles in my back are awake and need to be worked out, but I stare at the bedroom door, willing her to wake up and come talk to me. She’s the first person in a long time to break the silence that lives in my house. And within me.
I’ve done a very bad thing. A very wrong thing to this girl. How can I feel so good this morning when I know how bad I might end up making her feel?
The door to the bedroom stays closed, so I make my way to the basement to work off some of this frustration.
I pull on heavy bag gloves, working my tender right hand into it carefully, and hit the bag hard and fast, the pull of bone by muscle using up the space in my head. Carly’s eyes are my focal point and I imagine staring into them again, feeling her gasp into my neck as I ram my cock into her. The heavy bag isn’t so heavy as each punch lands with a loud smack .
Sweat runs down my body, but I keep going, keep pushing my arms and legs to do the work. I try to burn up my feelings, but they're always there, like a cancer. It eats away at me, not at my body, but at my soul. At the part of me that thinks I’d ever deserve someone like Carly, that I could ever make her happy. I tried that, but I got in my own way and now my heart is as closed up as a tomb. Or at least it was.
Finally, my muscles are satisfied with the burn and I unstrap the gloves from my wrist. I look down at myself, at the definition in my arms, but all I can see are the scars. The moment that Carly let her fingers rest on them made them real to me all over again. I wear my heartache in the form of marred skin. My head fills with the memory of both.
I shower in the upstairs bath, unwilling to wake Carly before her body comes to on its own. I can’t let myself think about the way her hand fits mine or the way her lips feel against my skin. Her body seems as though it was designed for me. She fits me in ways no woman has before, not even the one who led me to where I am now. I just had to pursue her, had to turn on the charm. I realize she charmed me, too, but what the fuck can I do about it now? I made a decision a long time ago and it’s one of those that you can’t easily go back on. I don’t know how to handle all these things this girl has made me feel; all the emotions I locked away have started to try and break free. The water beats down on my head and I try to lose myself in the
The sun is coming in through the window and I know it’ll be up fully any minute. The light will come in and hit on the bed in the exact spot where she lies. Her skin will catch the light and I’ll lean in and breathe her scent. That same hair I think about running my fingers through will light up around her face. I let myself lift the sheet up and look at her ass, her long legs. My dick throbs painfully, full of want of her and the need to piss.
I pull my arm free carefully; she stirs a little and pulls the sheet back up over her body. I walk to the bathroom and relieve myself. The mirror greets me with that same old face, the face I selfishly hope she’s dreaming about. I wash my hands and then rub them over my eyes, washing away the night. Jack, old boy , I think as I stare at my reflection. You've let that girl put something on you . I smile in spite of what it means.
I go to leave my bedroom as quietly and quickly as I can, but can’t do it before pausing to watch the sun filter through the window like I knew it would. The strands of her hair seem to glow and her skin looks so soft, so kissable right now. I could move that sheet aside, push my t-shirt off her body and fuck her until she can’t walk. I know she’d let me and that’s why I fight the urge to do it.
In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and down it in one drink. The muscles in my back are awake and need to be worked out, but I stare at the bedroom door, willing her to wake up and come talk to me. She’s the first person in a long time to break the silence that lives in my house. And within me.
I’ve done a very bad thing. A very wrong thing to this girl. How can I feel so good this morning when I know how bad I might end up making her feel?
The door to the bedroom stays closed, so I make my way to the basement to work off some of this frustration.
I pull on heavy bag gloves, working my tender right hand into it carefully, and hit the bag hard and fast, the pull of bone by muscle using up the space in my head. Carly’s eyes are my focal point and I imagine staring into them again, feeling her gasp into my neck as I ram my cock into her. The heavy bag isn’t so heavy as each punch lands with a loud smack .
Sweat runs down my body, but I keep going, keep pushing my arms and legs to do the work. I try to burn up my feelings, but they're always there, like a cancer. It eats away at me, not at my body, but at my soul. At the part of me that thinks I’d ever deserve someone like Carly, that I could ever make her happy. I tried that, but I got in my own way and now my heart is as closed up as a tomb. Or at least it was.
Finally, my muscles are satisfied with the burn and I unstrap the gloves from my wrist. I look down at myself, at the definition in my arms, but all I can see are the scars. The moment that Carly let her fingers rest on them made them real to me all over again. I wear my heartache in the form of marred skin. My head fills with the memory of both.
I shower in the upstairs bath, unwilling to wake Carly before her body comes to on its own. I can’t let myself think about the way her hand fits mine or the way her lips feel against my skin. Her body seems as though it was designed for me. She fits me in ways no woman has before, not even the one who led me to where I am now. I just had to pursue her, had to turn on the charm. I realize she charmed me, too, but what the fuck can I do about it now? I made a decision a long time ago and it’s one of those that you can’t easily go back on. I don’t know how to handle all these things this girl has made me feel; all the emotions I locked away have started to try and break free. The water beats down on my head and I try to lose myself in the
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