Your cock is beautiful

“I mean, if you want someone other than your right hand to fuck you for once, I could maybe fix you up with a friend of his. I’ll ask him if he knows any other faggots.” she said.

As usual, the frustration and unfairness of the situation started to get to me, but I kept it from showing. I slowly finished my drink and made my way across the room to the door. She stood up and moved to intercept me.

“Oh, no clever comeback this time? Just gonna run away?” she said.

I stopped.

“You know,” I said, trying to appear calm, “I do so enjoy these bitchy chats with you, but I’ve got something much more fun to do right now. Like stabbing myself in the face with a pencil.”

This was a line I’d been working on for a while.

Again, she seemed taken aback. I tried to continue to the door, but she moved completely in my way.

“You should just be grateful a girl as hot as me is even talking to you. It’s probably not going to happen again for a long time.” she said.

She stared into my eyes, daring me to challenge her. I met her gaze.

It was strange. She’d used the “block the door” trick a lot when we were younger, when she was much taller than me, but now I had the height advantage. I didn’t exercise much, and I was slim, but I probably had enough muscle to have the weight advantage too. If it came to a physical struggle, I could probably best her. Force her to the floor, or at the very least push past her. I tried to tell myself this. I tried to force some confidence in myself.

But this wasn’t a physical struggle; it was a psychological one.

And, as always, I was the one that looked away first, staring at the floor to avoid her eyes.

She let out a harsh laugh.

“See you around, faggot.” she said.

She turned and left, heading towards the living room where my sister was probably watching TV.

I fucking hated her. The years of humiliation and abuse came flashing back to my mind. My heart sped up and my fists clenched. Good God, how I fucking hated that woman. I wanted to smash something, anything. I grabbed a glass from the table and gripped it tight, my knuckles turning white.

I wanted so badly just to throw it to the floor, to see it smash. I wanted to destroy something.

But no.

I did what I always do, and repressed it. I took a deep breath and let out a shuddering sigh. I fought my rage back to sleep, and put the glass gently back on the table.

I grabbed some snacks and spent the rest of the day in my room, trying to forget the conversation.

==

The next time I saw her was a few weeks later, on a Friday night. It had been a while since Mia had stayed over, but it used to be the norm. Pretty much every week she’d come over for dinner, then stay the night and all of Saturday.

She’d arrived late, it was almost midnight and my parents were already in bed. I’d been sitting at the kitchen table, on my laptop, when she arrived. I stayed there for as long as I could, hoping she would leave. When I realized she was staying, I wanted to go straight to my bedroom, avoiding her completely. Only problem was, I’d left my laptop charger in the living room, and my battery was running low. If I wanted to maintain my one link to the internet, I’d have to go where Stella and Mia were now talking alone.

I couldn’t decide.

I approached the door to the living room. It wasn’t closed all the way, and I could hear them talking. I didn’t want to go in. I didn’t even want to see her. I felt the familiar flare of nervousness, shame, and fear that was my constant companion throughout my encounters with Mia.

I just waited outside the door, chastising myself for my cowardice.

I couldn’t help but listen.

“So how come you’re not with him tonight?” asked Stella.

“We’ve just been spending a lot of time together, you know? I mean, every Friday night for weeks now.” said Mia.

They were talking about her boyfriend, I assumed.

“So…you’ve been fucking, then?” said Stella.

I instantly felt even worse about what I was doing. This was private.

But I really wanted to hear this, suddenly.

“Well, yeah.” said Mia.

“And it…isn’t any better?” said Stella.

Mia sighed.

“No…it’s still not…not great.” she said.

Whoa, her handsome, popular, ‘alpha male’ boyfriend was shit in bed?

I couldn’t help but smile.

“I think it might be…” she trailed off.

“What?” asked Stella.

“It’s kind of embarrassing.” she said.

Stella laughed.

“Come on, seriously, you’re not going to tell me?” she said.

Mia laughed too.