Who I Used to Be

by Alexa Land

  “Only if you want to, but either way, there’s something I have to do first.”

  When he was seated on the foot of the bed, I pulled off my shoes and socks, then stood a couple feet in front of him. “We’ve both been shy about this,” I said as I unbuttoned my flannel shirt. “But we need to get past it.” I took off the shirt and tossed it onto the chair beside the closet. Then I pulled my T-shirt over my head and tossed it, too. As I unfastened my belt, I said, “I’ve never liked the way I look. When I was a kid, I was so scrawny. I got teased for it all the time. I got called bean pole, chicken legs, toothpick. Such stupid insults. I don’t know why they hurt so much.” I stepped out of my jeans and added them to the growing pile. “I filled out a bit later on, but turning into a junkie and forgetting to eat for days at a time didn’t exactly do me any favors. It’s getting a bit better now, thanks to you and all those great meals we’ve cooked together. I’m still self-conscious about this, though.” I ran my hands over my pronounced ribs.

  I pulled off my briefs and tossed them on the chair with the rest of my clothes. Then I held my arms out and said softly, “This is me. I’m not hung like a porn star, I’ve never manscaped a day in my life, and my legs are still too thin and so white they could cause snow blindness.” I spun slowly so he could see me from every angle. “I’m not perfect. I’ll never be. But what does it matter? Perfection is a lie the commercials and magazines sell us to try to get us to spend money on their shit. Buy this and you’ll be beautiful! Buy that and men will want you! What a load of horseshit.”

  I stepped forward so I was standing between his knees, picked up his hands, and put them on my bony hips. “Now here’s what I like about my body. My heart’s still beating, and after all I did to myself, that right there is a reason to celebrate. I’m still skinny, but compared to where I was a couple months ago, I know my body’s changing for the better. I also like the fact that I’m not covered in bruises anymore. I didn’t even know where they all came from when I was a junkie. Best of all, my mind is clear and my body feels stronger than it has in a very long time. And because I’m not craving drugs every minute of every day, I can just be here in this moment with you, and I can feel good. Considering where I’ve been, all of that feels like a huge victory.”

  “You’re so beautiful, Zachary,” he whispered. “Don’t you see that?”

  “To you, because you love me. You haven’t said those words yet, but I know you do, just like I love you. I’ve been afraid to say it out loud. I kept worrying: will he think it’s too soon? What if he doesn’t say it back? But then, maybe that stuff doesn’t matter. Maybe the important thing is just to say it with no expectations, because it’s the truest thing I know.”

  TJ pulled me onto the bed and kissed me passionately. Then he nuzzled my cheek and whispered in my ear, “I love you, Zachary. God I love you.” My heart flip-flopped at those words and I clutched him in an embrace.

  We tumbled over each other, and when I landed with my back on the mattress, he slid his leg between mine. TJ took his time, kissing and caressing every part of me. His breath was warm on my ear as he whispered, “I’m going to try so hard to make this good for you, Zachary.”

  “It already is. Don’t you see? For the first time in my life, I’m about to have sex with someone I love, not some random stranger who’s paying me.” He sat up a bit and looked in my eyes, a question in his. “Literally the first time. I lost my virginity to a trick and never had sex apart from the job. I had no reason to, because it was just this meaningless and impersonal thing. I stopped wanting it to be anything more, until I met you. So, you don’t have to try to make it good, because it’s already phenomenal. Every time you touch me, I feel cherished and desirable. More than that. I feel new, like I’m not that whore and that junkie anymore. You’ve given me myself back.” I turned my head as a wave of emotions flooded me and said, “That probably sounds crazy. I don’t know why I’m so desperate to explain this to you.”

  He took my chin, turned me to face him, and delivered a long, slow, deep kiss that I felt clear down to the soles of my feet. Then he said two wonderful words: “I understand.”

  TJ pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, then took a moment to drop his shoes and socks on the floor before kissing his way up my inner thigh. I took a deep breath as my cock swelled and he ran his fingertips up my shaft. He circled the tip with the pad of his index finger and licked my balls, but then I said softly, “Please don’t suck my cock. I haven’t had an STD test in over nine months, and even though chances are slim that something could be passed on that way, there’s still a chance. I’m sorry, I know I should have gotten retested before this.” I’d always insisted on condoms when I’d worked as a prostitute, but I lived with a constant fear anyway. I wanted to believe everything was okay, but that worry, that ‘what if’ made me put off getting retested as frequently as someone with my risk factors should.

  It was a relief when he didn’t make a big deal of my request. TJ just changed his trajectory and licked and kissed his way up my happy trail as he began to stroke my cock. He sucked one of my nipples, and it hardened between his lips. When he lightly grazed it with his teeth, I drew in my breath as the sensation reverberated right down to my balls.

  It felt fantastic, but after a few minutes, I started to feel guilty and told him, “You’re doing all the work. Let me return the favor.”

  He licked my neck before saying, “We can even it up later. For now, just let me worship your body.”

  I slipped my tongue in his mouth when his lips met mine. He tasted slightly sweet, as if he’d just eaten an apple. One of his fingertips circled my sensitive nipple, and a shiver of pleasure shook me. The tip of his tongue lightly skimmed my lower lip, and then he began to dot my face with light, tender kisses. They landed like feathers on my cheeks, on the tip of my nose, my forehead, my earlobe. When he licked my ear, I drew in my breath again and arched off the mattress a bit, surprised at the way it sent shockwaves through my body.

  TJ’s hand had been resting on my cock, and when he felt it twitch, he went back to stroking it, alternating between jerking me off and caressing it lightly. His lips and tongue explored me in the same way, gentle and intense in turn, until every nerve ending in my body crackled with sensation. While he did that, my hands roved all over him. I ran my palms down his back and caressed his ass through his clothes before reaching underneath him and unfastening his jeans. When I slid my hand in his boxers and began rubbing his hard cock, his breath caught.

  After a few minutes, he stripped himself, then rolled us over so I was on top. When he kissed me and grasped his cock and mine in his fist, I moaned into his mouth. He began stroking both of us, and I pushed myself up with my knees to give him room to maneuver. “I take it you like that,” he said, his voice low and sexy. I nodded and closed my eyes, resting my forehead against his as I rocked my hips, lightly fucking his hand.

  He gripped us firmly, pressing my length to his, and pleasure and sensation flooded me. It took me a moment to realize I was making little sounds in time to his strokes, and I laughed when I realized what I was doing. “I sound like a crazy person,” I told him, then let out another moan as he gently squeezed my balls with his free hand.

  “Your sounds are adorable. So are you.”

  TJ ran the pad of his thumb over my sensitive, swollen cock head, and I gasped. He asked, “Want me to make you cum this way?”

  I shook my head. “I need you in me.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  I and sat up and looked around. “Please tell me you have lube and condoms.”

  He nodded, coloring slightly. “I planned ahead. Everything we need is in the nightstand.”

  The small paper bag I found in the drawer contained three different brands of condoms, two types of lube, a narrow anal vibrator, and a blue dildo. I chuckled and said, “You wanted to be prepared.”

  “The toys were an impulse buy. I’d gone to a sex shop in the Castro so I
could get some good lube, and the shopping trip kind of escalated from there.”

  I glanced at the receipt and said, “You’ve had these for three weeks! You really were committed to the whole taking it slow thing, weren’t you?”

  “I was. And we did. But now I need to be inside you.”

  I yelped and laughed when he flipped me onto my back. He tore the seal off one of the lube bottles, then said, “Oh wait,” and leaned so far off the bed that I thought he might tumble off. He sat up a moment later, stuck a towel under me when I raised my hips, and tossed a packet of wet wipes onto the mattress.

  “So thorough!”

  “This is the first time I’ve had sex in three years. I wasn’t leaving anything to chance.”

  “I see that.” As he poured out some lube, I marveled at how good I felt. It wasn’t just that I was aroused, though I certainly was that. I hadn’t expected to feel so relaxed, and happy, and comfortable. It was a revelation that sex could be so much more than just trying to get off. I wanted to convey that to him somehow, but what I ended up saying was, “This is fun.”

  TJ chuckled and said, “I think so, too.”

  He began stroking my cock again as he slipped a slick finger into me. I cried out as he dragged his fingertip over my prostate, slowly and deliberately, and I spread my legs, offering him all of me. He drove me wild as he kept working that spot deep inside me, alternately rubbing it, then sliding two fingers in and out of me. I writhed and tried to push myself onto his hand as I begged him to fuck me. He seemed to like that, judging by his swollen cock, which was pressed against his belly and wet with precum.

  After edging me for a while, TJ prepped himself with a condom and lube, wiped his hands and positioned himself between my legs. By the time he started to push into me, I was absolutely desperate to be fucked. He drove his hips forward, slowly stretching me open. When he bottomed out, I let out the breath I’d been holding and grasped his waist. He began to move in me, and his thrusts were careful at first. Contained. He watched my reactions closely as he slid in balls deep, then pulled almost all the way out.

  Our pace built quickly, since we’d both gotten so worked up during all that foreplay. He sat up, put my ankles on his shoulders, and began taking me faster and harder. I grasped his ass and tried to pull him deeper into me as I moaned and drove myself onto him. It was so good, so good, and I let myself get lost in the intense sensation as the most primal part of me took over. Language gave way to moans and gasps and whimpers. TJ fell forward, folding me in half, his face inches above mine. When we locked eyes, our connection was electric, crackling around and through us. It focused what was happening, concentrating it, distilling it down, distilling everything down, until all the world was just TJ and me and our mutual pleasure.

  When I began to cum, the sound that tore from me was like a jagged sob. My body felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out as I came in wave after wave. My balls tightened up and my ass clamped down on the cock inside me, and that set him off. TJ cried out, clutching me, slamming himself into my ass. I grabbed at his body, pushing up off the mattress with my hips, wrapping my legs around him, wild and desperate as my body gave him everything I had to give and his did the same.

  By the time those earth-shattering orgasms finally ebbed, both of us were sweating and shaking. My ankles dropped from his shoulders, and he slid his cock from me, gripping its base with two fingers to hold the condom in place. TJ kissed my shoulder and whispered, “Be right back.” He went into the bathroom, and while he was gone, I cleaned myself up with a couple of the damp cloths and threw them in a trashcan that he’d conveniently left beside the nightstand.

  I let my eyes slide shut and listened to the sound of water running in the bathroom sink. When TJ returned a couple minutes later, the mattress dipped as he settled in beside me. He pulled a soft, warm blanket over both of us, and I whispered, “Thank you,” as I burrowed into his arms. I wasn’t sure what I was thanking him for, but it felt right.

  He kissed my forehead and said, “I love you so much, Zachary.”

  “I love you, too. God I love you.”

  We spent a long time kissing and cuddling. Eventually, I got my second wind and told him I’d be right back. I started to get up, and TJ asked, “Where are you going?”

  “To get us something to eat.”

  He started to get out of bed and said, “I’ll help you.”

  “Just let me. Please? You do so much for me. I want to take care of you for a change.” It was against TJ’s nature to just sit back and let someone else wait on him, but after some good-natured bickering, he finally agreed. I pulled on my briefs and headed to the kitchen, where I washed my hands and assessed the fridge.

  When I returned a few minutes later with a tray of finger foods and a couple glasses of lemonade, I said, “Aw, you got dressed.”

  He’d put on his boxers and a T-shirt, and he looked up from the book he was reading and said, “Well, not fully.”

  I grinned a little. “Even after all the time we’ve spent with each other, you’re still shy around me.”

  He returned the book to the nightstand and said, “That’s not a reflection on you, or on us. I actually feel better with you than I’ve ever felt with anyone. I guess I’m just not all that comfortable in my own skin.”

  “It’s okay,” I said as I sat beside him. “No pressure. Just do what makes you feel good.”

  He watched me for a moment as I transferred the drinks to the nightstand and draped a napkin over his thigh. Then he said, “My ex used to hate that about me. I swear, he was a borderline nudist who spent half his time naked. He took the fact that I kept myself covered up to mean I was holding myself back from him, and that it meant our relationship lacked intimacy.”

  “He didn’t get you.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Well, he was an idiot, and his loss is my gain.”

  TJ smiled at me, then looked at the tray and asked, “What have you made here?”

  “I’ve created a utensilless meal, and yes, I just made up that word.” Everything I’d prepared was cut into little, geometric pieces. I picked up a miniature fruit skewer and held it up to him, and he bit it carefully and slid it off the toothpick. When he started to reach for a tiny sandwich triangle, I put my hand on his and said, “Let me. Please?”

  I held the sandwich to his lips, and after he ate it, he asked, “Is your plan to feed me this entire meal?”

  “Not if you find it annoying.”

  “I don’t. It’s sweet, actually. I just wonder why you’re doing it.”

  I shrugged as I fed him another sandwich fragment. “I guess I just have this need to take care of you. I know this is a weirdly literal way of doing that, but it makes me feel good.”

  “Well, fair is fair then.” He fed me a sandwich, accompanied with a sweet smile.

  We ate the entire meal like that, feeding each other in turn, and afterwards I stretched out beside him. He kissed my forehead before swinging out of bed, and I asked, “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m doing this.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, then dropped his boxers and stepped out of them. “Fair is fair. You gave me a tour of your body, so I’m giving you one of mine.”

  I smiled at that as I sat up and leaned against the headboard. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  “I know. So, here’s the three-sixty view.” He stuck his arms out and spun slowly, coming to a stop when he was facing me again. His lean, tight body was incredibly sexy, as far as I was concerned. “I’ve always hated the fact that I’m way too pale. I can’t tan to save my life. But you know what I really hate?” He pointed between his pecs and said, “I’m actually getting gray chest hairs! What the hell! Aging is so messed up. I barely had any chest hair at all until I was thirty, and now it’s turning silver and getting all wiry!”

  “That doesn’t even sort of detract from how beautiful you are. I wish you could see yoursel
f through my eyes, just once.”

  “You’re sweet.” He caught my hand and kissed it, then added, “Oh, here’s a little secret: this is going gray, too.” TJ tugged on his bangs. “But I color it. How vain is that? Every two weeks, I sneak off to the bathroom and bust out the dye. It washes out over time, which is why I have to color it so often. That’s my one concession to vanity. I just don’t look like me with gray hair.”

  I smiled at him and said, “I can’t believe I didn’t know that about you.”

  “Well, now you do. I don’t want to hide anything from you, including that ridiculousness, or what I look like naked. I’ve always tried to disguise my body with baggy clothes, but I figured you should see this, because it belongs to you.”

  “It does?”

  “Oh yeah. I’m yours, Zachary, body and soul.” He pressed my hand to his chest. “I’m not just being romantic by putting your hand on my heart right now, I’m also totally hiding the weird gray chest hairs. Two-fer.” He flashed me a big smile. I was laughing as I pulled him into my arms.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Elijah had been in a continuous state of awe ever since we’d arrived at the Saithmore campus, and he spun in a slow circle, taking it all in.

  The campus was in the foothills just outside the bustling Silicon Valley, but it felt like it belonged in a different time and place. Stately red brick buildings with white columns were nestled in a perfectly landscaped setting, amid huge oaks, pines, and redwood trees. All the structures had been designed to reflect and complement the style of Ephraim Saithmore’s 1880s neoclassical mansion, which resembled a big, three-story version of Monticello. The house now served as the administration building. Saithmore had made a fortune in newspapers, and the university became his legacy.

  “It really is something,” TJ agreed, reaching for my hand. When I glanced at him, I was surprised to see a kind of wistfulness in his expression.