It’s dark, and I don’t live in the world’s best neighborhood, and I know this isn’t the smartest plan but I need to quiet my mind. I know I could have asked Sir for permission to masturbate, and he probably would have let me. That might have helped, but…
I’d feel guilty that I didn’t go over to his house and spend the night.
I’d feel bad that he’d feel bad I felt I had to ask because he wasn’t there to take care of me.
Because I don’t ask him to let me masturbate. Not if we’re not together.
Oh, I’ve begged for orgasms plenty of times while we’re together. I’m getting pretty damned good at that, if I do say so myself. He loves it when I beg, and I love seeing the way his eyes light up with that evil, sadistic gleam when he knows he’s got me in the zone.
Thus…I run.
Nissan Stadium is dark and quiet tonight as I pound past it on foot, down toward the river and south along the East Bank Greenway, toward Cumberland Park. Running along the river always soothes me for some reason. I don’t know why.
I push myself hard tonight. I really could’ve used a beating—and a fucking—but I would’ve paid like hell for it in the morning. And with Aussie in the house, a beating wouldn’t have happened. I damn sure couldn’t have relaxed and enjoyed it.
I opt to run the pedestrian bridge across the river and back, which adds a little more distance to my route than I would normally run, but I need it tonight.
I’ve never run in George and Casey’s development, even though it’s quiet and beautiful and would be a perfect running environment. Just enough hilly terrain to make it challenging. Closed loop, little traffic, beautiful views.
But I’ve never wanted to be too visible, even when I was in college and people knew I was renting a room from Casey.
I wanted to remain in the shadows to avoid any rumors tainting our image.. And now, I don’t want people to see me coming out of George’s like that.
Instead, when I’ve opted to run when I’m there, I’ve done it on Casey’s treadmill, or, lately, on George’s.
I finally take a minute to stretch and catch my breath, stopping to stare out at the river. Tonight it’s a dark, satiny ribbon, swirls here and there marking its swiftly moving depths. It’s running a little higher in its banks than normal, too. If it was daylight, it’d be a murky, greenish brown. Not exactly swimming water, but something about its energy draws me. That’s another reason why I’ve kept my apartment, because I’m close to the river.
I used to wonder where I’d finally buy my house once I got around to doing that. If I couldn’t purchase one inside the same development as Casey—and now George—I’d want to find a place nearby, preferably close enough to a lake or park or creek, where I could have a little water to look at.
Now?
I feel like I’ve been tossed into a new kind of limbo. George telling his sons makes this feel…real?
Real in a way it hadn’t before, even after he told Aussie.
Does this mean George will eventually want me to livewithhim? I suppose I was so used to Casey and her need for space that it’s just now hitting me maybe I won’t be buying a house.
Maybe George will tell me I’m moving in with him.
Except… What about Casey?
As much as I feel I belong to George now, I also don’t want to leave Casey behind.
I love her.
I lovebothof them.
In an ideal world, the three of us could live together and say fuck everyone else.
This is far from an ideal world, especially considering our jobs and the state in which we live.
I finally head home. All I’ve succeeded in doing is chewing through some mental and physical energy, my legs burning from the brutal pace I set for myself. And I’m still not as tired as I’d like to be.
I shower, check my work e-mail one more time, and set my alarm for in the morning. But as I lie there and stare at my ceiling, I realize how empty my bed feels.
And howemptyI now feel when I’m alone. Which isn’t a problem I used to have before all this started with George.
Chapter Eighteen
