I was lying on my back. She lay across my stomach. Her arm across my chest her head resting on top, with her legs curled up under my left arm, as she relaxed in the afterglow of her orgasm.
My right hand was under my head and with my left I was caressing her thigh. “So are you going to give me a blow job, then?” I asked softly.
She looked up at me and smiled. “No,” she giggled. “Of course not.”
And that was it. I didn’t want to make her do it, I wanted her to want to do it. And I didn’t want to argue with her. I didn’t ask her why. It made no difference why. Oh I’d like to have known. But I didn’t think I could ask her to explain without her thinking that I was trying to argue her into doing it. The fact she didn’t want to do it was enough for me.
I wanted her to want to love me the way that I wanted to love her. But she didn’t and even then I think some part of me realised that she would never let me love her the way I really wanted to.
And yet the problem of sex still bothered me. I thought I was head over heels in love with her. And I thought I was expressing the depth of my love by making love to her, by trying to please her, by giving her pleasure. Oh I enjoyed it as well, I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t. But I was getting no feedback from her. When I told her that I loved her she would just smile, or kiss me or some such. And when I made love to her she wouldn’t respond. I mean she’d respond to my love making, but she wouldn’t actively make love back to me.
So how was I expected to know how she felt about me. If she didn’t love me would she let me make love to her? Yet if she did love me why wouldn’t she make love to me? I didn’t know if it was because she really didn’t know how or she just wasn’t bothered. And yet I got a real kick out of making love to her. Was it just that the excitement of the physical acts made it that much easier to pretend about the emotions behind it.
Maybe she really loved me and she was just too shy and inexperienced and repressed by her Catholic upbringing to be able to admit it. To herself or to me. And then again maybe she really was just using me. Maybe I was just being the gullible fool that I normally am. The truth was that I didn’t know. I couldn’t figure out how she felt. And I couldn’t get her to tell me. And to be completely honest I really didn’t know how I felt myself. I was knocked totally off balance by the ferocity of my desire for her.
I was in a right mess. I loved making love to Alexandra. I loved making her come. It didn’t bother me in the least that we weren’t having what might be called “normal” sexual intercourse, That’s is the penetration of her vagina with my penis. Using my fingers was enough for me.
Yet it did bother me that she didn’t make me come. That she didn’t seem to want to make me come. And it bothered me that she wouldn’t sleep with me. I mean that in the literal sense, that is to curl up and go to sleep in the same bed. Or even let me sleep on her floor. To have to get and leave after having sex seemed like rejection to me.
It all boiled down to this. If we were just going to have a casual relationship, then surely I should be entitled to get some enjoyment out of it. But yet if we were going to have a serious deeply committed relationship then why wouldn’t she talk to me about it. Either way I was beginning to feel used and abused by the current situation.
It shows the measure of my confusion that it was over a month before I thought of contraception. One Wednesday afternoon it suddenly dawned on me. Obviously she didn’t want to have straight sex with me because she didn’t want to get pregnant. So buy some condoms and then we can ride all night long. It further shows the measure of my confusion that fear of pregnancy didn’t explain why she wouldn’t give me head or masturbate me. Perhaps I thought she didn’t want to cause a mess on her carpet.
It was only much later that I thought of Aids. I recently discovered that some teachers use fear to discourage teenagers from having sex. Fear of pregnancy, fear that some future husband won’t respect you because you aren’t a virgin, fear that you’ll catch some deadly diseases. And now the deadliest of them all, Aids. (With no known cure at time of writing.)
Anyway, going to the chemist and buying the condoms proved a lot less embarrassing than I’d thought it would. It was my first time and like all things the first time can be a bit nerve racking. But it was quite simple. I just walked into the shop and asked the assistant if they sold condoms. She smiled and said “Yes. There they are.” and pointed to the display I was standing in front of. I looked down and found myself confronted by an array of half familiar names. I did a quick scan and selected, almost at random, a packet. I handed over my money and she put the packet into a paper bag before handing it to me, along with my change. And that was that.
Now all I had to do was talk to Alexandra about using them.
I decided to ask her after the next time I made love to her. It was after our next date. We were lying half naked on the floor of her flat. She was lying across me wearing just a T-shirt and panties. I had on just my jeans and underpants. I could feel her breath on my skin as I caressed the back of her head with my right hand. The fingers of my left were still damp from being inside her.
“So would you let me use my penis if I had a condom on?” I asked.
“What?” she looked up.
“Would it be OK if I used a condom?” I repeated.
She sat up. “Why would you want to use a condom?” she didn’t look at me.
I thought for a second, unsure what she meant then decided to interpret her question literally . “So you won’t get pregnant and so we’ll not pass any diseases to each other.”
She stood up, “I think you’d better go now.” She walked to her closet and put on her robe.
I watched her move and thought how beautiful she was. One part of me wanted to call her a fucked up little bitch, but the other couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. So I got up and got dressed, after once again being fucked.
At the door I stopped and kissed her. I’d meant to walk out with out doing so, but she was still irresistible. Once my lips were on her’s, my arms went around her automatically and I ended up hugging her tightly. Ever so tightly . She hugged me back and I was in heaven for those few minutes. Then she stepped back.
My hand went to her breast again. I could feel her nipple through the silk of her robe and the cotton of her T-shirt. “See you next week at the club?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said and kissed my cheek.
I turned and walked out and didn’t see her for another month.
You can buy Alexandra in Paperback and Kindle versions from Amazon.com.