Find Me Alastar

He raises a brow in question.

I have been dying to see his body. I can hardly even remember it. Last time I was so overcome with

arousal; I couldn’t think straight.

He smiles sexily and tilts his head. My eyes scan the fine specimen in front of me. It’s like getting to

play with my very own Ken doll. My last boyfriend was lovely, sure, but he was nowhere near being in

Alastar’s league. I take off his jacket, hang it in my wardrobe, and then I slowly unbutton his white shirt.

With each button I unhook, I kiss the skin underneath it. When I make it to his chest I take his erect nipple

in my mouth. He tenderly puts his hand on the back of my head and kisses my temple.

I finally get to the last button and I pull his shirt off over his shoulders. My eyes scan the perfect man

in front of me. All of my Christmases have come at once. How could I have ever doubted my decision to

do this with him? He is naturally broad and athletic, his arms and chest are muscular. His skin is dark and

olive, and he has a scattering of dark chest hair that trails delicately to his navel before it disappears into

his pants. I hold my breath, unable to breathe though my constricted chest.

He stays silent, allowing me to visually drink him in, as if knowing how badly I need to do this.

I am inexperienced, and maybe God has sent him to me to fulfill my every fantasy before I have to let

him go.

I gently dust the back of my fingers though the hair on his lower stomach before I bend and slowly kiss

him there.

I know this is casual sex… I know it. I asked for it. But why does this feel so special and intimate?

He stands eerily still in the muted light of my room, and I slowly take off his jeans and jocks. My

breath catches as my eyes drop down between his legs. His cock is broad and long and I can see every

vein down its engorged length.

Dear, God, he’s beautiful.

I bend and kiss him gently. I don’t feel arousal, I feel affection… and it terrifies me.

Stop it. This is casual.

I run my fingers through his dark pubic hair and he inhales loudly. I kiss him gently again and his hand

tenderly brushes my hair back from my forehead as he watches me.

“What is it?” he whispers.

I shake my head unable to articulate my thoughts. “You are just…” I shake my head.

“Just what?”

“So perfect,” I whisper in awe.

As if sensing my fragility, he bends and kisses me. His large hands hold my face and he pulls me to my

feet to slowly begin undressing me.

“Lie down, sweetheart.”

I lie down and he gently lies down next to me, pulling the blankets over us. He kisses me carefully as

his hands roam up and down my body.

Stop it, I remind myself as my heart starts to freefall. At this moment in time I feel like I may literally

die if he wasn’t here with me tonight.

“Alastar,” I breathe. I’m overwhelmed, why do I feel like this? My hands hold his face as he kisses

me.

“I know,” he whispers as his forehead rests on mine.

We lay together, the two of us enjoying each other’s bodies, when he rises above me. My legs are

touching the mattress, and his fingers gently slide in and out of my body as he prepares me for his size. My

eyes close as he positions himself and slides home in one graceful thrust.

I cling to him. He clings to me. And as Alastar makes beautiful, tender love to me, I come to the

frightening realization.

When this ends…

It’s going to hurt.

The twisted ball in my gut is disturbing, heavy, and it’s riddled with guilt.

I have openly flirted and led Mark on for twelve months and now I’m finally here in the same

country as him, I don’t want any part of it. Unfortunately, he just doesn’t do it for me. Although, I am

wondering if I hadn’t met my Irish dreamboat, would things be different?

I pick up my wallet and my lip gloss, placing them in my bag before I sit on the bed and stare at the

phone in my hand. Alastar and I have seen each other every night since we made our pact to be casual,

and when he has got up to leave in the middle of the night, I have asked him not to go… and to my

surprise, he has stayed with me.

I’m not sure how casual this is, but I am going out with Mark tonight for dinner to explain that I don’t

want anything with him. His obvious flirting is cringe worthy and I need it to stop.

“Knock, knock.”