I stared intently in the mirror at my reflection’s gold eyes as everything transformed.
Little by little, like a dream…
The Maori-style tattoo on my right bicep disappeared, my imposing shoulders narrowed, my pectorals shrank, and my body overall grew smaller. My hair became longer and lighter, and my beard scruff vanished, revealing features far more…childlike.
And there he was, my cross to bear.
“You’re the one who has the constant need to use all these different women.” I spoke first, staring myself down in the mirror before he could go on the attack.
The Boy leaned his head to one side and watched me skeptically. He was once again wearing his blue Oklahoma City basketball jersey and the matching shorts. He would surely want to defend himself and blame everything on me, just like he always did.
“You wanna try to deny it?” I went on, clenching my fingers tighter around the edge of the sink.
I was feeling very unsettled, and the unsatisfied need that continued to pulse between my legs wasn’t helping at all.
“You can’t keep her; she ran away. Tinkerbell’s gone, and you should be pleased.” I smiled disdainfully and scrubbed a hand over my face. “You’re the one making me act like this. You know that, right?” I threw the accusation at him so he’d stop looking at me like this was solely my fault.
It was all his fault—the things he whispered to my conscience, thecrying that sometimes wouldn’t stop. And we both knew how hard I tried to soothe him.
“I like her,” he answered, folding his arms over his chest. He was pouting, but I didn’t give a shit because he was the one who had gotten me into that situation.
“You know you can’t have a relationship with a girl like Selene when you’re sleeping around, don’t you? It’s disrespectful, and she’d never accept that kind of thing. She wouldn’t share. It was right for her to leave,” I chided him, raising my voice.
Damn it, why does this kid get me so fucking angry?
“Take a hike; you’re getting on my last nerve,” I added threateningly before heading for the toilet, a more urgent physiological need forcing me to interrupt my absurd conversation.
The problem, though, was that pissing with an erection like the one I had was not only difficult but also pretty annoying.
I tried to think about something else, to focus on a topic completely removed from sex, like schoolwork, upcoming exams, or graduation. Finally, I managed to get rid of it.
“Fucking Boy,” I grumbled at the moody little shit and immediately got into the shower.
Forty minutes of freezing water were sufficient to soothe my anger, cool my arousal, and banish the smell of Jennifer’s saliva and our shared sweat. It was my favorite part of the day: just water, body wash, and artificial scent.
Everyone knew how fixated I was on hygiene, just like they knew how choosy I was about the women I fucked and how I was rarely inclined to give my prey oral. I got pleasure from the act but not with everyone. In fact, with almost none of them, except for Tinkerbell, whose taste was still imprinted on my palate.
She tasted different, an intense, unique flavor, simply…her. I needed to stop thinking about that, though, or my hard-on would come back and, this time, a mere cold shower wouldn’t be enough to get rid of it.
I emerged from the bathroom completely naked, my body still dripping water, and went to put on my boxers. Jennifer and Xavier had finished bythen and were lying comfortably on the pool house’s bed, each smoking a cigarette. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn’t spare them a glance.
“Who were you talking to in there?” Jennifer asked, breaking the silence as I pulled on my jeans.
“I was on the phone.” I lied. Shit, I hadn’t even realized I’d raised my voice so much that I could be heard out here. Making up a lame excuse was really all I could do.
Jen’s face turned skeptical, and Xavier sat up to scrutinize me more closely.
“How long does it take you to shower, man? I hope you at least rubbed one out in there, bro. I don’t know how you can hold back after fucking for an hour.” He taunted me while I pulled a white sweatshirt over my still-damp chest.
My hair was a mess because I’d only dried it with a towel, so I went to the mirror and ran my fingers through it.
“Xavier, you should have no interest in what I do—or don’t do—with my dick,” I groused before grabbing my keys, cell phone, and pack of Winstons. I turned to look at them then and caught Jennifer staring at my ass, like usual.
“I’m going out to smoke. Clean up in here and crack a window.” I walked out the door, tugging the hood of my sweatshirt over my hair to keep out the cold. I sat on a chaise lounge and lit up a cigarette, exhaling smoke into the air.
I stared at the crystalline water of the swimming pool in front of me and relived the moment when, in our indoor pool up on the third floor, I had seduced Selene and stolen her first kiss. I recalled her small body interlocked with mine, her ocean eyes staring up at me in apprehension, and the sweet taste of her spreading across my tongue. I’d become addicted to her full lips.
How many women had I kissed in my life?
