Those Bloody Tears

Chapter Fourteen

           “Shut up the f*** up, Axel! Du bist so ein Schwanz. (You’re such a d***) I don't even know why I let you stay in my house,” I whined throwing a pillow at the boy cackling at me. I wasn’t really that angry with him, but he was getting on my nerves.

            “Because you love me and you feel sorry for me because of the fact that my grandma decided to visit the twins for a week,” he said shuddering at the thought and stretched out on the couch.

            “I should make you stay there and give her a sponge bath or something.”

I plucked a couch cushion out from under his head and propped myself up on it dangling my legs in the air behind me. I was feeling pretty satisfied with the mental image I lodged into his brain. I was able to block it out with sexy images that didn’t involve sixty-year old women.

            He cringed and flashed a look of pure horror at me and then said, “I just made fun of you for getting kicked out of Andy's rehab for punching out a prick. I didn’t insult your c*** size. Why are you getting so bent out of shape?”

            “Because you are a Schwanze head,” I barked at him.

             He just started chuckling at my immaturity.

            “It's not funny! Now I can't visit Andy.”

            “You're so in love with that boy,” he cooed smirking.

            “No, I'm not. I was gonna get some a** yesterday,” I whined rolling over onto my back to where I was upside down looking up at him.

            “Whatever. There's no way in the firey pits of h*** that Uptight Andy would ever let you tap that,” he dismissed rolling his eyes and rolling over onto his side.

            “He was!” I protested sitting up.

            “You can preach it all day long, but that doesn't make it true,” he said in a bored sing song kind of voice.

            That did make me mad. He was acting as if it were ridiculous that Andy would ever let me touch him. So I did what any rational person would do and chucked the remote at his face. I was a pretty good aim because hit the bridge if his nose. “Arschloch, (a**hole)” I muttered.

            “Ow! Mother f*****!” he shouted then grabbed his nose and let out a long strand of profanities that would make certain sailors blush.

            “Serves you right,” I mumbled feeling a little embarrassed. I had my mother’s fiery temper. Come to think of it my father’s temper was awful too. I blamed our German heritage.

            “No, it doesn't,” he said checking to make sure his nose wasn’t bleeding. If it were I’d be two for two.  “I didn't do anything to deserve that!”

            “You big vagina! That couldn't have hurt that bad,” I retorted in that way where you knew you were wrong, but you were in too deep to admit it.

            “You flung a f****** plastic remote at my nose. How would that not hurt?” He demanded.

            “Plastic, being the keyword.”

            He sat up, picking the remote up, and whipped it at my face. “It’s just plastic.”

            “Okay,” I said pinching the bridge of my nose a few times to see if it was broken. As far as I could tell it wasn’t. “You threw it at me a lot harder.”

            “It’s just plastic,” he repeated.

            I pounced on him, knocking him off the couch onto the hardwood floor, and pinned him underneath me. Before I could do anything else he pulled his leg up and kneed me hard in the groin causing me to roll off him onto my side and grab my balls. I finally was able to regain mobility and he punched me in the chest. Retaliating, I decked him in the jaw, it made a loud popping sound and I almost feared it was broken.

            But he swore loudly and then struggled over dominance. I pinned him and then he flipped us over, causing me to start over again.

           Unbeknownst to him, our wrestling match was really turning me on. I hadn’t had sex in really long while, and all that rubbing and bumping and rough housing was a major turn on. A couple more bouts of rolling around fighting for dominance and I couldn’t handle it any longer, I started ripping at his clothes. He didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

           Andy’s mad at me anyway. What would it hurt?

            He gave me a questioning look before tearing at my clothes. Things were moving a little too slow for my pace. I ripped his pants down and didn’t even bother prepping him I just dove right in. I moved my hips at a quick pace and I pulled his hair knowing that he liked it. He swore loudly and moaned, pulling my long locks in return. The waves of pleasure it caused made me quicken my pace even more until I climaxed. I purposely made sure that he didn’t get a chance too.

           I rolled over panting and out of breath, and waited for him.

            “Ready for round two?” he purred rubbing my chest.

            I nodded shutting my eyes. I needed him inside me as much as I had needed to be inside him just moments ago.

           He positioned himself over top of me and I braced myself for the slight amount of pain as he entered me. He was the only person I ever let make me the b****. He was also the only person I didn’t f*** with a condom. He wasn’t very active back before we started dating, so I knew he was safe.

            He didn’t last as long as I did, but sure as h*** made me wail. He fell beside me panting and smirked at me. He was absolutely pleased with himself, such a cocky little thing. I reached over and ran my hands through his hair, gently tugging here and there. It was my turn to smirk.

            “Stop it please,” he whimpered shutting his eyes.

            I thoroughly enjoyed making him beg like that.

--

            Axel was lying on my chest while I played with his hair. It wasn’t something that I usually did, but after about four rounds of f****** and getting my brains f***** out I was feeling generous with affection.

 “I miss this,” he sighed in content. The sigh was so big his chest raised, pushing me up with it.

            I tensed a little. I didn’t like the sound of that. “What does 'this' mean?”

            “Us having sex, and occasionally laying here talking about nonsense,” he said rolling over onto his elbows and looked at me innocently.

            He absent mindedly stroked my chest waiting for me to process this. I thought of a way to respond. I settled on, “I can't deny that I love your sex.”

            Complementing his sex didn't seem to be the response he was looking for. His face fell a little and he stopped stroking my chest for a second, but then he composed himself and picked back up again. He dropped his gaze to follow the movements of his hand.

           All of my muscles tensed further once I realized what he meant. He missed having sex with me. And worse of all he still had feelings for me after almost six years. I didn’t feel the same way. It all happened a long time ago and I thought of him as more of a brother now.

          Sure, I loved having sex with the guitarist, but he wanted a relationship. I wanted meaningless f****. He wanted commitment. I wanted someone else.

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Oh, no he didn't! Does it really shock you though?

                                                                      xoxo, Holly