Page 21

ARUSH

I spend all the warm mornings on the balcony. I’ve decided that every Thursday, I’m going to take a picture from the exact same spot and see if I can notice the changes in nature as the weather gets warmer.

Today isn’t exactly a warm day. The sun is out, but the wind is biting. I’m wrapped in a blanket as I sit in the chair. Skylar is on the other side of the glass wall as we talk nonsense. We’ve done this a few times now.

Through these conversations, I’ve learned that she’s thirteen and homeschooled. It sounds to me like she’s a couple years ahead of her peers and incredibly intelligent. This might be somewhat difficult to grasp since she talks through a made-up language as often as she can.

Two days ago, she told me about the different classes she’s currently taking.

The biology classes she takes at the local college, as well as the labs for her chemistry classes.

She also takes piano lessons, though she says her parents are looking for a new tutor since the last has already taught her all they know.

I’m under the impression Skylar is an incredibly gifted child.

I’m not huge on psychology, but I wonder if maybe her escape into the make believe is a kind of release of pressure from all the challenging courses and training she goes through every day.

It’s a way of shutting down and giving her brain a rest.

I’ve always heard that if you’re creative, then you’re not scientifically inclined and vice versa.

That doesn’t appear to be true for Skylar, though.

The second time I spoke to her, she’d been finishing a drawing for an art class that she was taking ‘ just for fun, it doesn’t count for anything ’ and what she shared with me through the gap in the glass panel and wall was absolutely incredible.

I’m not sure where her talent ends, but I’m both a little envious at how incredibly gifted she is and also relieved because it feels like it puts a lot of weight on her. So much so that she escapes into a made-up world whenever she can.

My dad always asks about her now. From the moment I told him how we met through the glass on the balcony and our conversation, he’s been incredibly invested in Skylar’s life. He’s fascinated by her talents and escapism.

I also think she’s lonely, like me, so we take comfort in each other’s company.

She’s an only child with two working parents.

One works from home, which is why she’s able to be homeschooled.

It also sounds like it’s necessary for someone to work from home because Skylar has labs and shit that I don’t think a thirteen-year-old would normally have.

Today is one of those days. We only have ten minutes to chat before her mother calls her inside to get ready for one of her labs at the college.

I’m surprised when I see her mother’s head peek over the wall. My first thought is, am I in trouble for talking to her daughter? Is it not okay in the US to talk to your neighbors like this?

Thankfully, she gives me a smile. “I want you to know that she really enjoys talking to you. You indulge her creativity and she always comes inside in a really good mood when you’ve taken the time to chat with her. Thank you.”

Relieved, I smile in return. “She’s a smart girl.”

Skylar’s mother sighs. “She is. Some days, I’d like to relieve her of that burden so she can simply be a kid.”

“I don’t mean this offensively, but it sounds like she’s in a lot of advanced courses? She could slow down a little?”

She smiles. “Trust me, we’ve tried that. Skylar doesn’t like to be bored, and she craves answers to all of her questions. Don’t let her fool you into thinking that we force her into the classes she’s in.”

“Oh, no!” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t think that. I just meant?—”

“I understand what you meant,” she interrupts. “I also know information can get lost when she’s not speaking English.”

I laugh. That’s so damn true.

“Skylar has never found a way to simply relax and turn her brain off. We always encourage her imaginary world because we’re afraid she’s missing out on being a kid.

Still, those moments usually only last for a short time before she’s ready to get back to work.

I think her mind is always going in so many directions, and the imaginary world is simply one of those directions that’s always on.

Until she met you last week, her breaks have always been very, very short.

The first day she spoke to you for several hours was the very first time I’ve seen her take an extended break.

You don’t know what it means to all of us that she has had you for that outlet. ”

“I enjoy our conversations and her company. My… uh, roommate is away a lot with hockey and it gets really quiet and lonely here. My family and friends live on the other side of the world. So it’s been really nice having Skylar to talk to.”

This woman studies me with a lingering smile.

“Good. Please know that you two are welcome to chat any time through the wall. Not all adults appreciate the mind of a child and she’s often written off as a kid talking nonsense, not understanding that she’s probably far more intelligent than they are.

People are quick to judge a kid. It’s a relief that there are people in the world who are willing to see beyond her silliness to the brilliant young girl she is. ”

“I knew she was smarter than most people from the moment she started speaking in tongues,” I admit. “I thought she was divine.”

She laughs.

“Mom! We’re going to be late. Stop stealing my friend.”

She smiles, rolling her eyes like I’ve seen Skylar do many times. “It’s good talking to you, Arush.”

I nod, waving as she disappears. I should have asked her name. For now, I suppose ‘ Skylar’s mom ’ is going to have to do.

In the silence of the world around me, I spend a while searching online for different engineering career paths, looking for the one that excites me the most. There are aspects of both environmental and aerospace that are really exciting, but I’m not sure which I want to spend my life in.

I’d been going to school for aerospace engineering and accidentally took an environmental engineering class, which is where this conflict arose from.

I didn’t expect to enjoy it quite as much as I did, but at the same time, I love space.

There’s nothing more fascinating to me than perhaps being involved in a project that facilitates life on another planet.

In a way, environmental engineers are directly tied into that. Remedies, restoration, sustainability, waste, air, water, and soil—all things that need to be taken into consideration when colonizing new planets.

But I really need to choose a direction before I continue. I’m still heavily leaning aerospace, but the fact I felt a pause at all in that direction is what made me stop to consider the alternative.

However, after a while, I get bored with this. It’s not entertaining at all and leaves me no closer to truly making a decision on the direction I want to direct my future.

With Skylar gone, I head inside and decide to take a shower. Julian could be home in half an hour or an hour or longer. There’s no set time for conditioning. Even practice can fluctuate depending on whether he stops at the gym before or after.

I close my eyes under the spray of water and let the heat of it wash over me. It wasn’t exactly cold out, but the heat of the water and the steam surrounding me feel good. Like my bones are cold and need to thaw a little. I’m so ready for warmth.

After a while, I wash my hair and then my body. When my hand runs down my slick skin to wash my dick, I’m reminded of just how long it’s been since I’ve gotten off. I’ve been in Chicago for what, two months? It’s been longer than that since it’d been a while even before I left home.

My dick reminds me of that as it immediately fattens with my touch. I’m prone to ignoring my morning erections because I find them frustrating. There’s almost always no reason to be hard as soon as I wake up. What kind of biology decided that was necessary?

However, right now, the need floods my body. I give in and stroke my cock with a soapy hand. Eyes still closed, I lean against the tile wall and concentrate on the feeling. The heat that floods through me, pooling in my core. Making my entire body clench.

It’s been a long time.

I let go of myself and rinse off. Drying quickly, I drop the towel on the counter in my bathroom and choose a dry one to bring into my bedroom. The bed is made. I haven’t been on the bed in… weeks. Not since I first slept in Julian’s bed.

I grab a pillow and stick it under the comforter, urging it down toward the end of the bed. Then I smooth out the blanket and lay the towel over it. From my sock drawer, I pull out a bottle of lube, my medium dick, and my magic wand.

I arrange it all on the bed and then climb on, sticking my ass by the lump of the pillow in the blanket. With a lube covered hand and my wand in the other, I close my eyes and begin stroking myself again.

Slowly . I’m not in a hurry to get off. Even though it’s been ages, I like to enjoy my orgasms. I like to feel them build. To feel the way my heart speeds up. My breathing becomes harsher, more exaggerated. How my body burns and shakes with need.

I stroke slowly, dropping my hand to grip my balls now and then. Feeling the way my cock feels like a fleshy rod, hard but not steely. My smooth cockhead under my thumb.

The need in my gut grows with the build of my arousal. I bring the head of my wand under my balls and press it to my taint before turning it on. The vibration that shudders through my body makes my back arch and I groan.

A wave of heat fills me, making me break out into an instant sweat. My dick leaks. A string of precum connects my slit to my stomach as I gasp. But it’s not enough. I need more. I need to feel it everywhere.

I hate the feel of my own fingers in my ass. I’ve learned to prep with whatever toy I want to ride. It’s a matter of enough lube and patience. Besides, I don’t hate the burn of the stretch as long as it doesn’t cross into painful.

Turning my wand off, I drop it beside me and reach for my six-incher. It’s the smallest one I brought, and I did so specifically for times like this. I can go months without feeling the urge to actually get off, despite the way my cock acts when I first open my eyes in the morning.

That’s a natural, biological reaction. It’s not actual need.

Because I feel awkward fingering myself and it puts a huge stop in the middle of my play—and I don’t like other people touching me either—this is my compromise. A small-ish cock.

My hands shaking with need, I get a messily lubed-up cock in position, with its base wedged against the pillow and its head pressed to my hole.

There are days when I wish I had longer arms to help this along.

I can usually figure out everything else once I get started, but these first moments are nothing but pure frustration.

Especially for the first time after months without an orgasm.

With the right angle and pressure, I manage to breach my hole. A gasp escapes me and I shiver as I slowly bear down on it. With every slow centimeter that drives its way in, my breath becomes more and more stuttered.

Once I’m reasonably convinced that the pillow is going to keep it where I want it, along with the help of the position I’m in, I grab my dick and magic wand again and get back to work. As soon as I turn the wand back on, a burst of electric arousal surges through me and I gasp loudly.

Instinctively, my body bears down on the dick, making it enter deeper inside. Which means the pleasure of impaling myself on it comes with a satisfying burn and stretch. It takes my breath away as I reflexively begin working myself on it.

I’m not quiet. I’m not sure I could convince myself to be quiet as my orgasm builds bigger and bigger.

I shake my head from side to side as I get closer.

It’s going to be abrupt. It’s going to be intense.

I drive my ass down on the dick over and over, digging my heels into the bed on either side of the pillow, making sure that fucking cock doesn’t move.

There’s nothing worse than edging myself unintentionally.

I’m not sure what makes me do it, but I move my eyes from the spot on the ceiling and look at the door. It’s open and Julian is standing there. I gasp at the sight of him. A fresh wave of desperate need rushes through me and I moan loudly.

“Sorry,” Julian says, reaching for the handle.

I shake my head. “Stay,” I blurt and then squeeze my eyes shut as my orgasm is about to reach its zenith. “I’m coming. Please stay.”

I’m not sure if he does. I’m overcome with my orgasm as it rushes out of me. I rock my ass clumsily on the dildo, and the vibration almost instantly becomes too much, but I don’t move it away as it makes my orgasm intense. Not painful, but… forceful.

I’m brought to the point where I literally struggle to take a breath and I pull the wand away with a jerky motion. My lungs are still stuck for several seconds as I stare at Julian through wet eyes.

Finally, I suck in a breath and let the dick fall out of my hole. I’m covered in cum and lube as I stare at him. “Sorry,” I whisper. I’m filled with horror that maybe I just crossed a line. I shouldn’t have asked him to stay.

I didn’t even ask. I practically pleaded.

Julian’s head lowers, but his eyes don’t leave mine. For a minute, neither of us moves. The room feels thick. The moment heavy.

The tension breaks as Julian walks into the room. I watch as he disappears into the bathroom and returns a minute later with a wet cloth and a dry towel. Then he’s standing over me while I’m chewing my lip, unsure what to do or say.

“Can I clean you?” Julian asks.

I close my eyes as relief floods me, and I nod. “Yes,” I whisper.

He leans down and presses his lips to the skin just in front of my ear. “That was beautiful, Arush,” he murmurs.

Oh fuck. This man is just… perfection.