I.

The bedroom was cloaked in darkness, save for a single candle, its flame casting our writhing shadows on the walls around us.

“Almost there,” I grunted, thrusting into Miss Amber. She was lying on her back, legs wide open and wrapped around my waist for maximum penetration. “I’m about to come.”

“Yes,” she squealed in anticipation, breathing heavy, digging her fingers into my ass, pulling me in deeper. “Give it all to me. Come all over me.”

As always, her wish was my command, and as soon as I felt myself reach the point of no return I pulled out, resting my convulsing cock at the base of Miss Amber’s stomach as hours worth of building lust exploded all over her. I shuddered and moaned, the bed creaking as every muscle in my body contorted in beautiful agony.

The first was the most intense, an unexpected force of desire that hit her square in the chin. She flinched, a girlish gasp of genuine shock and joy escaping from her lips as my pleasure continued to rain down upon her, leaving trails and globs of my sticky wet essence all across her body.

“Jesus, it’s everywhere,” she said, giggling with delight. “I think some got in my nose.” She wiped a bit up from her face with her finger and sucked it. “Mmm, I think that’s the hardest you’ve ever come.”

She was right. Exhausted and gasping for breath above her, I admired my distance. Some had indeed landed on her face, but a little had also settled on her neck and breasts, while most had pooled on her smooth pale belly.

“I guess you just bring it out of me,” I said, still hyperventilating.

Laying there, covered in my cum and beaming with satisfaction, I thought Miss Amber had never looked sexier. I brought my lips down to hers and kissed her, not giving a damn if I tasted myself. Her body tensed, surprised by my sudden adventurous spirit, but she quickly responded in kind, gently caressing the side of my face as we explored each other’s mouths. This woman had given herself to me once again, and once again I was favoring every moment of it.

Miss Amber and I had been going at it like this for weeks, ever since we finally had sex after a fun-filled night of smoking and dancing. Another barrier had been crossed, and we we’re no longer holding back, indulging in each other’s hunger as frequently and as often as either of our lives would permit, which it turned out was quite a lot. We met up at her place multiple times a week and did it everywhere we could, the couch, the kitchen table, the shower, though the bed was still our preferred environment for obvious reasons. But that was never enough, and in no time we were sneaking away for quickies at the library, usually in the janitor’s closet or staff restroom, and occasionally in the public restroom, the both of us thrilled by the threat of being caught. For the first time it felt like I was living life to the fullest, acting like a fool, taking risks, all with her by my side.

“Come here.” Miss Amber grabbed my hand, and placed it at the base of her stomach, just before the swamp of semen settling in and round her pierced belly button. “I want you to rub it in,” she told me. “Massage me with your cum.”

I obeyed without question, and dipped my fingers into my mess, spreading it around her stomach, taking in the sight and sense of her tight abdomen glistening with my seed. I drew my hands further up and began rubbing more into her breasts, which grew softer and more supple the longer I remained.

“Mmm, that feels nice,” she said, eyes closed, body open. Miss Amber’s skin was turning baby soft, fortified by and glowing with the life I had spilled on her. I leaned down and kissed her left nipple, which was soft and fluffy and sweet, like cotton candy. She moaned as I continued to run my hands across her body, worshiping at the temple of her nubile feminine form.

The only blight in this otherwise rapturous time in my life was my ever growing feelings towards Miss Amber. Since I’d come to realize I loved her, it was becoming increasingly difficult to push those feelings aside and hide them from her, which I hated doing because the foundation of our relationship was based on honesty. It was the first condition we’d agreed to, and I was breaking it behind her back.

What choice do I have? I told myself. If I told her, I’d risk pushing her away. Miss Amber didn’t want a boyfriend, or some lovesick puppy following her around; I knew this, or at least I thought I did. She wanted a plaything that did what she said, and in exchange she taught me everything I needed to know, sometimes harshly, sometimes tenderly, but that was the deal, and while I was eager at first to fulfill that role for her, that was no longer enough. Ever since that night the lines had been blurred, and with each passing day, as I continued to share her bed with her, I only grew to love her more, tinging all our time together with an inescapable heartache that I desperately wanted to go away.

“Spoon with me Jake.”

I eagerly snuggled up behind her and wrapped my escort beşevler arm around her waist, my flaccid cock nestling itself comfortably between her taut cheeks. This had become a common ritual following particularly heavy sex sessions, and was fast becoming the most cherished moments of our nights together, at least for me, if only because, for a brief flash in time, it felt like she was truly mine.

Just tell her, I thought, staring at the abstract painting hanging on the bedroom wall, the same one that had caught my eye our very first night together. I did this often, imagining Miss Amber and I as the man and the woman, fitting together like two perfect puzzle pieces from a distance, made just for one another.

Tell her now.

“Miss Amber?” I whispered.

“Yes?” she whispered back, sounding half-asleep.

“It’s, a, well, I…”

I trailed off, searching for the right words, until I noticed Miss Amber’s peaceful heavy breathing, and stopped.

“Never mind.” I leaned down and kissed her on the neck. “See you in the morning.”

I turned to the nightstand and blew out the candle, leaving the two of us shrouded in total darkness.

II.

I was suffering from some serious mental fog when I came home later the following morning. It was another deathly hot and humid day, which certainly did me no favors as far as my state of mind was concerned. I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in what was feeling more and more like a lifetime ago, my head racing with anxious thoughts and feelings regarding my swiftly approaching university life. Days and weeks were becoming a blur, melting into each other, making it almost impossible to tell one moment in time from another.

Goddamn this heat, I thought, sweating as I fumbled for the keys to the door. Thankfully my father had the good sense to finally turn the air conditioning on, though he still insisted on turning it off during the night in an effort to save on the electric bill, and since the nights were no less muggy than the days, by morning the house would be sweltering once more.

I sighed with relief as slightly cooler air greeted me at the door, and was halfway to my room when I saw my father sitting at the kitchen table, halfway through what was likely his second or third cup of coffee.

“You’re back,” he said, sounding slightly accusatory.

“Uh, yeah,” I responded, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you’ve been gone a lot. I don’t think I’ve seen you for days.”

It was true. This was the first time my dad and I had spoken a word to each other in weeks. Between all the time I had been spending with Miss Amber, as well as at work and at the gym, our paths had rarely crossed, and when they did, he was usually passed out in front of the television. This time was different though. He was very clearly awake and alert, and had obviously been waiting for me, his face resting in that “we need to talk” self-serious look that I always dreaded.

“I’m guessing you wanna talk?”

“Yes son, I do.” His was voice was gruff, but unmistakably warm.

“Can I at least take a shower first?” I reeked of sex, and figured it was best for both our sake to wash it off before our little chat.

“Sure bud,” he said. “I’ll be here.”

I took as long as I reasonably could, and when I finally returned to take a seat across from him at the kitchen table, he just stared at me for a few awkward seconds, startled by the version of his son sitting before him. I was in no mood for this heat, so I had thrown on a simple black tank top, something I wouldn’t have felt comfortable wearing mere months prior, which took him by surprise.

“What?” I admit, I was slightly amused by his reaction.

“Nothing,” he said calmly but quickly, clearly wanting to change the subject before it began. “So how have you been?”

“Nothing new. Work. Gym. Friends.”

“Girlfriend?” he guessed.

I looked down and blushed a little, still uneasy over the idea of discussing subjects of a sexual nature with my father. “I guess you could say that,” I admitted, “but it’s not serious.”

He took a sip of coffee, looking at me like he knew everything, but left it at that, much to my relief.

“Don’t get too distracted Jacob. You’ve only got a little summer left before school starts.”

“Yeah I know,” I said. “You don’t need to remind me.”

“Have you thought about what you need to take with you? We should start making a list-”

“I got it dad.” I was exhausted and frustrated and already sweating my ass off, and the last thing I wanted was to be reminded of the inevitable change barreling towards me. Sure, I had convinced myself to view college as an opportunity, not a burden, but deep down I was still uncertain and afraid, feelings of which were heightened by the emotional mess I found myself tangled in concerning Miss Amber.

My dad looked down into his nearly empty coffee cup, tapping it lightly with his index finger, contemplating how to navigate escort balgat around the distance that had been years in the making. “Look, I know things haven’t always been easy for us since your mother passed…”

“That was a long time ago,” I stated coldly. “I’m over it.”

He looked at me for a few seconds, seeming slightly hurt, and nodded.

“Still, I-” He stopped, straining, searching for the right way to say what needed to be said. My dad was never one for letting his guard down, so watching him attempt to do so here was a particularly painful endeavor.

“I am proud of you son,” he said suddenly. “You know that, right?”

Something about the way he said it sounded genuinely sincere, and if he was being honest, it was only fair that I be too.

“Sometimes I wonder,” I said.

He sighed. “I know you don’t like it when I push you. But I’m your father, and that’s what fathers do.”

“That’s very philosophical of you.”

“I’m being serious Jacob.”

“So am I,” I said, standing up. “Look dad, I already know everything you’re going to say, so can you please spare me the lecture this time? I feel like we do this song and dance over and over again, and I’m tired of it.”

My brutal honesty shocked us both, further widening the chasm between us. I knew I wasn’t being fair, and I knew deep down that his intentions were good, but I was so lost and confused in the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling in that time of my life that I wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

“Sure son.”

My dad, doing his best to hide how defeated he felt, turned away from me and to the window, staring out into the forest that lined the perimeter of the backyard. I hovered for a few seconds, tempted to reconcile, to throw away all caution and confess everything I was going through, but I stopped, and instead returned to my room, grabbed my duffel bag, and left for the gym. It was the only way I could think to expend all the pent up negative energy infesting my body.

I arrived to find the gym busier than usual, which further soured my already foul mood. Finding a free locker was a longer ordeal than it should have been, and when I did, I was forced to dress between two older men, talking quite candidly with each other about their various medical issues as if I wasn’t there. It was awkward to say the least.

Finding a free bench was even more of an ordeal, and I was forced to hover around the leg press for a while until one opened up. I had hoped my Puerto Rican pal Luis would make a surprise appearance; it had been a while since I’d seen him, and I really could’ve used someone to vent to. It had gotten to the point where I wondered if he’d stopped coming all together. I understood the temptation; there were plenty of days where I didn’t feel like going. But I had Miss Amber to keep me on the leash.

When I finally did secure myself a bench I had hoped that getting a few sets in would set me at ease, at least a little, but it didn’t. I felt weak. Not literally, but on the inside, and it was effecting my performance. Instead of feeling great, I felt like a failure.

It’s just one of those days, I told myself. There’s always tomorrow.

Except tomorrow meant leaving my life here for another, one where I would be alone and responsible for every decision I made. I wouldn’t have Miss Amber or my dad to push me into doing what I couldn’t do myself. I would be in control, and I didn’t want that, which ironically made me feel like I had none at all. Try as I might to fight it, I was still afraid, and it was making me feel like my life was spinning, slowly, and gaining speed with each passing day, and I was powerless to stop it.

A couple sets in I took a break to refill my water bottle, and when I returned there was a very large and muscular man sitting on my bench. He had already replaced my weights with his own, and was looking at his phone with his earbuds in, probably searching for the right song to start his workout to.

Not again.

This was not my first encounter with the guy. There had been a few times in fact where I returned to find him claiming my bench for himself, acting blissfully unaware of what he was doing. And every time I was content with backing off and letting him have his way, afraid of confronting him over what I knew to be right. But today was not one of those times. I was already on the verge of breaking, and his actions made me finally snap.

Enough of this.

“Excuse me,” I said.

No reply. It was obvious he was ignoring me.

“Excuse me,” I said again, louder, tapping him on the shoulder.

The man turned to face me, confusion on his face.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I’m not finished yet. If you wait I’ve got one more set left, then it’s all yours.”

I was being generous, and a decent man would have graciously agreed and apologized. Fortunately for me, this was no decent man.

“Whatever,” he said dismissively. “You leave a bench, escort batıkent it’s fair game.”

“I was gone for less than a minute,” I pointed out. “My weights were still on the bar.”

“Not my problem,” said the man before turning back to his phone.

Unbelievable. Guys like this had been walking all over me all my life, thinking that just because they were bigger than me that they could take whatever they wanted. Suddenly this guy became every dumb jock who unknowingly pushed me around in school, and I wasn’t in the mood to keep that tradition alive that day.

“Listen man,” I said, raising my voice and puffing out my chest, “I was here first, if you just wait a few minutes-”

“BACK OFF!” he screamed, veins bulging in his neck as he pushed me with enough force to hurl me backward. To say I hadn’t expected things to escalate so quickly would be an understatement, and I just as quickly lost my footing, causing me to fall and hit the back of my head against the edge of a rack.

“Jesus christ!” screamed the girl using the rack beside us. She stopped mid-squat to rush over to my side, placing herself between me and the man. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“This guy was trying to take my bench,” said the man.

“I saw everything,” she said. “That’s not what happened.”

By now a few others had been drawn to the commotion, including an employee, who bent down to check on me.

“Are you okay sir?” the employee asked. He had a thick, well-groomed beard, and wore a yellow track suit that read “Personal Trainer” on the front.

“I’m fine,” I said. I was lucky. The rack had only grazed my head, leaving only a slight sting and a quickly growing small lump.

“Let me get you an ice pack,” said the employee, and he turned to face my assaulter. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave sir.”

The man looked like he wanted to object, but then he noticed the eyes that had gathered around, judging him, and to everyone’s relief he turned around and left without saying a word. A sense of normalcy returned to the atmosphere as the employee stood up and reached down to help me back to my feet.

“I’ll be right back with your ice pack,” he said, leaving me alone with the girl.

“What an asshole,” she said. “Probably roided out on something. You sure you’re okay?”

The girl was looking at me with genuine concern, her eyes so piecing and blue that in my slightly dazed state it took all my effort not to lose myself in them.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “Just a little graze. Thanks for the help.”

“Of course. I’ll be right over here if you need me.” She headed back to her rack, turning to look back at me one last time before returning to her squats.

It took me a few moments to come to terms with what had happened, but I got over it surprising fast. My heart was pumping full of adrenaline, and even after the employee had returned with a complimentary ice pack, the energy it gave me still hadn’t gone away. Against my better judgment I set aside the ice pack and decided to finish my last set, during which I looked over to my would be savior, and caught her looking back at me. I smiled to let her know I was okay, and she briefly smiled back before looking away, as if she were slightly embarrassed to be caught staring.

The adrenaline was finally starting to wear off as I was getting dressed, and soon all thought of returning the ice pack was gone, replaced by a minor, throbbing ache. I left the locker room holding it against my head, looking forward to the comforts of my bed. Maybe now I might get some decent sleep, I thought, trying to be optimistic.

Then I saw her. Standing outside the men’s locker room. Waiting. For me.

“Hey,” said the blue-eyed girl, making sure I noticed her.

“Oh, hey,” I said. “We meet again.”

Truth be told I wasn’t expecting to run into her, at least not so soon, but I can’t say that I minded. She was cute in an average sort of way that set me at ease, with a pale round face framed with wiry glasses and a mop of long, straight, dark brown hair. She had traded her workout clothes for more casual summer wear, a light pink v-neck shirt and white denim cutoffs that fit snugly around her wide hips.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked, fidgeting with her gym bag.

“Alright, all things considered.”

“So, there’s a Starbucks across the street. If you’re feeling up to it, would you maybe wanna get a coffee with me? I’m buying.”

My first immediate instinct was to decline. My head hurt, and I was still sweaty from working out. I just wanted to go home, shower, and rest.

“Please?” she pleaded, sensing my hesitation. “I think we both could use the company.”

Fuck it, I thought. I’d never been asked out by a girl before, and I knew future me would be kicking myself for turning her down.

“Sure, that sounds nice.”

“Great.” She smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Rachel by the way.”

“Jacob,” I said with a short, friendly handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you Jacob.”

We made small talk about the terrible weather as we walked across the parking lot, and it was only then that I realized that I looked and smelled like I’d just stepped out of the gym. Not exactly the ideal circumstance for making a good first impression.