The Boy Next Door

An appreciative groan rumbles up from deep in my chest. There is no greater feeling than her welcoming heat squeezing me tight. She always laughs when I tell her how much I love her pussy. The truth is that I fucking revere it.

Eight strokes later and I’m coming with a vengeance.

Thankfully, she’s right there with me.

Half a year later, and every time feels like the first. How the hell will I ever get enough of this girl?

Her teeth sink into her lower lip to stifle her moans. I keep my gaze pinned to hers and watch as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her delicate features. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as beautiful as the look on Alyssa’s face when she orgasms. Her ecstasy only intensifies my own. I’m ashamed to admit that in the past, it was my satisfaction that came first. I’ve always been a selfish bastard when it came to sex. As long as I got my rocks off, it was all good.

Alyssa changed that. Her pleasure means everything to me. It’s my first priority.

With a huff of exhaustion, my muscles loosen, and I collapse on top of her. Slender arms slip around my neck as she drags me close.

A chuckle fills my ears as her body shakes with silent laughter. “More than an hour, hmmm?”

Yeah...that didn’t go according to plan. I’m lucky if that lasted five minutes.

Maybe four.

“That was round one,” I grunt. “I’ve got a few more left inside me.”

“Well,” her lips feather across the side of my face, “I certainly hope so.”

“Give me a few minutes to recover, and then I’ll be ready to go.” I roll to my side and take her with me, which is no easy feat in the narrow bed. Somehow, we manage to switch positions so that my back is to the mattress, and her naked body is sprawled across my chest.

Lying here with her in my arms is the second-best feeling. As our harsh breathing fills the dorm room, an unexpected contentment settles over me. I wrack my brain, trying to remember the last time I felt this at peace. As if all was right in the world.

But I can’t.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this.

If so, it was when I was a kid, around four years old before Mom decided to cut and run. As soon as that ugly thought mushrooms up in my consciousness, I squash it and blink back to the here and now. Alyssa grazes my chest with her fingers before lazily circling my nipple. I glance down, surprised to find her watching me from beneath her lashes. There’s a sleepy look in her eyes and a softening around her mouth as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.

At this precise moment, I feel the same. The crack she’s managed to find in my heart opens wider.

Our gazes lock and hold as she whispers, “I love you.”

And just like that, those feelings of peace and contentment vanish into thin air as if they had been a figment of my imagination the entire time. Everything inside me stills as my breath gets clogged at the back of my throat. It’s as if I’m being suffocated from the inside out. My heart thumps a painful staccato, filling my ears like the roar of the ocean until it drowns out everything else.

There’s a hopeful look on Alyssa’s face. I open my mouth to say something.

Anything.

But nothing comes out.

One heartbeat passes.

Then another.

The happiness filling her eyes drains away before dying an agonizing death.

As much as I want to echo the sentiment, the words refuse to budge from my lips. Instead, my mouth turns cottony. Deep down, I knew this conversation was inevitable, and I’d even hoped I would be able to parrot it back to her.

But I can’t do it.

When I remain mute, she turns her head away before resting her cheek against my chest so I’m no longer able to see her expression. The movement isn’t nearly quick enough for me to miss the pain my silence has caused.

Chapter Seven

Alyssa

One week later...

Seated on the floor of the studio, I cross one leg over the other and fold my upper body to my thighs, stretching my arms until they can sweep across the wood. Gradually I inhale, filling my lungs with oxygen and expanding my chest to capacity. I hold it for a couple of seconds before forcing every molecule from my body. Repeating the process, I focus on my breathing. I can almost feel the breakdown of lactic acid that had built up in my muscles during the intense sixty-minute rehearsal. After a few more deep breaths, I sit up and shift my legs before crossing the left over the right and bending forward to deepen the exercise. Once my calves and thighs have been properly stretched, I extend my legs in front of me and fold at the waist before widening them and moving through a second series of exercises.