Pool Mates Part II
#2 of Sharky Days
/* After the good response from the first story, I thought I'd write a follow-up to it. This one doesn't contain any sex in it because towards the end, I just couldn't put sex in it and keep the mood that seemed to come from the rest of it. Yiff will come though, if this one gets a good review as well. Probably a long extremely yiffy one.*/
The cool winter's air bites my face once again as I walk home from the pool. I'd decided to walk since my car was in the shop getting it's thirty thousand mile check-up, and it was sometimes nice to walk in the freezing cold early morning air all bundled up in a warm jacket.
The snow crunches loudly under my feet, most of it being dried out and quite firm now that it was too cold to snow anymore then it already had. After the temperature drops below 15 degrees fahrenheit, the air is so dry, even when fully saturated, to make the desert seem like a moist paradise. The sidewalks were caked with a mixture of ice and snow, making walking a chore for most, although I found it fun to see just how far I could slide myself about. I'd never slipped on the ice, not in five years of walking this town's streets as a paperboy in the early mornings. As I exhale, my breath steams and sends a cloud of condensed vapor through the air, staying suspended for a few moments before disappearing once again. Luckily there was no wind so my face wasn't feeling like solid ice just yet, my internal body temperature still a bit high from the recent workout. The walk gave me some time to think, relax, and unwind after finals were all done and finished.
Heather had gone home for the winter break, a good six hour drive back to her parent's place. The physics final turned out to be her last one, so after a kiss goodbye after the exam, I hadn't seen her since. There was a place on my couch that just couldn't be filled, and an itch in my balls that my hand just couldn't help me with. Speaking of which, this much clothing can make it a real pain to get at those itches that only come around when you can't easily access your crotch. After a few steps of walking funny I finally decide to just reach down and brute force a scratch through my pants, which helps for a little while but really doesn't make it go away. I'm sure it looked somewhat awkward to the 'coon driving by, a raised eye-brow on his face showing he had mixed feelings about seeing it, but I didn't care. I felt at least slightly better. It's not like he could see who I was anyways, what with how much clothing I had to put on to be able to survive out here.
My mind idly drifts back to Heather even though I had spent such a short time with her. I could still smell her on my jacket since it was on the back of the seat she was using to study the one night she was over. I released a quiet, long sigh into the morning air to make a large, slowly fading cloud to walk through. Not one of sadness or helplessness, but one of hope and feeling relaxed. I was happy to have met her, and was looking forward to spending another semester with her in some of my classes. There was just the part about starting a relationship with someone that had made me somewhat anxious. I wasn't the type to go out and party, to drink or smoke, or even date casually. I told myself I had better things to do like study, and that I didn't need to waste my money or time on money sinks also known as girlfriends yet.
Then this came along and slapped me in the face. I'd heard stories of other people's relationships, how they buy nice things for the other, want to be together, and then eventually break up because they don't really love each other. Was I feeling real love? Or was I feeling a rush of feel-good emotions for a crush that really meant nothing to me?
I decided to analyze the situation.
Did I want to buy expensive things for her? Not necessarily.
Did I want her to need me? Not really, they she'd be clingy.
Did I want to need her? Nah, then I'd be clingy.
Did I feel like spending all my time with her? Nope, there are times I just want to be alone.
I found out I'm not a stalker, but these answers troubled me at first. If I really loved her, would I feel obligated to be everything she wants me to be? I break down the statement like only an engineer could.
If I want to be what she wants me to be, or vice versa, then I'm changing what she already likes into something different. If I change, then that's not me, that's a different persona glued over my face to try to please someone. That sounds silly to me, so I finally come to terms with myself over the situation. I may love her, but I'm not willing to change anything about me that I think makes up who I am. Sure I can lift the toilet seat if she were living with me, and change little things about myself that she may find annoying, such as me itching my balls while walking down a somewhat busy street, but I'm not going to become a whole different person or change who I am for her. I hope she doesn't either, because I love her just the way she is and want nothing more or less then exactly who she already is.
By this time, I was just about to my doorway as the UPS delivery fur handed me a box. He told me to sign the device in his paw, which I did with a quick scribble before heading into my apartment with the box in tow. It wasn't large and my roommate was just finishing preparing a pork roast to be cooked for a good nine hours when I walked in. It took me a while to get the abundant amount of coverings off my body before I was stripped down to pants and a T-shirt again.
He looked at the box beside me with wide eyes and dropped the roast covered in meat-rubs and sauces into the slow cooker. "It finally came!" He exclaims with an eerily sated sounding tone, a claw of his quickly shredding the tape leaving a mess of raw meat-juices on the outside of the box. It isn't until after he's got the box open before he goes to wash his hands, pulling out his fixed-under-warranty XBOX 360. It doesn't take long for him to get it plugged in and running again, and the sound of Gears of War starting up soon fills the apartment a little louder then usual. My roommate is obviously basking in the High Def glow that encapsulates his entire being.
I take it upon myself to place the lid on the slow cooker, turn the setting to low, and finally set the cook timer for nine hours. Glancing to the clock I see I've got an hour to veg before work, so I sprawl myself out on my bed. I can still see and smell the stain left there from my and Heather's one night, the scent of which makes me wake up with morning wood constantly. Not that I'm complaining, it makes the morning that much more fun to wake up to. I roll over onto my back, paw casually slipping down to my crotch and brushing through the fabric of my shorts. My crotch is soothingly warm, the growing erection hidden beneath only adding to the magnetic effect it has on my hand. I lid my eyes open and slide my paw away, knowing if I paw now I won't perform as well at work. I sigh quietly, this time slightly out of sexual frustration, but I'm still good to go.
I walk to pick up my car, an uneventful walk for the most part although the sun's up now and it's turned out to be a warm day. Well... warm if you consider thirty degrees Fahrenheit a comfortable temperature like me. I take my usual parking spot, out of the way of other spots partially to keep my car from getting dinged, but also because I won't be walking to my car for a while now, so I might as well take a farther spot just to be considerate.
I push the back-door to the restaurant open and come face to face with the bus-boy for the night, a lanky fox with the agility of a... fox. He ducks under my arm carrying an unusually large bag of garbage and tosses it over towards the garbage can. It seems the trash man forgot to drop by our area once again, so it's overpiled. No matter what we do, that place never gets the route right with the new guys driving the truck. The fox follows me back in after I hold the door open for him, closing silently behind us as the restaurant atmosphere washes over me.
This place wasn't posh by any means, but it was the closest thing in town to a dining experience worth more then ten dollars a person. I was the sideshow, the mood maker, and the guy everyone looked at when the conversation died. I was the pianist.
I'd dressed somewhat nicely tonight, a tight fitting light green button up shirt with a tie that reached just above my Egyptian leather belt. The pants of choice were khaki's, pressed and recently dry cleaned so looking close to perfection. The muscles hidden beneath were visible through the shirt some, and I always noticed a guy or gal take a gander towards my rear when I walked by. Oddly enough no-one had copped a feel, although I knew it'd happen eventually since we did serve alcohol. The colors meshed well with my natural coloring and I thought I looked quite handsome.
The waitress slipped behind me and gave my rump a firm swat as I was standing around, "Get to work! I want to hear some Chopin tonight." She told me with a playful smile, knowing it was my favorite. She was a cute timberwolf that liked her job and life, definitely not the college type, but someone I got along with well all the same. She wasn't someone I'd consider dating, and she wasn't interested in starting anything like that with me. That didn't keep her from admiring me play from afar or groping me by surprised occasionally, and I was only glad to return the favor with my tail while she walked by when I was playing. I'd gotten three guys wrongly slapped, and tonight I'd hopefully make it four.
I walked out to the piano, one of the few things in my life that I'd liked ever since I was young. My thumbs rested on their C's and my fingers meshed to a few keys. I gazed down and saw the pattern, smiling to myself, recognizing it as the first chord to a relaxed, yet quick Impromptu by Chopin I'd memorized a few weeks back. I didn't decide on my songs usually, I let my fingers rest like this and it usually worked out fairly well. As I started playing, I closed my eyes and felt the music fill the room. The vibrations from the strings in the old, black grand piano echoed through the somewhat empty room. Conversations slowed to a crawl, eyes began to look towards the piano, and I could feel the wind of the tails beginning to sway beneath the tables to the rhythm flowing through the air.
My breathing slowed while my heart began to change it's beating to keep time with the rhythm, my entire body relaxing. All, of course, except my back which was perfectly straight, and my arms that flowed side to side playing chords in perfect time. I noticed the conversation had slowed a bit too much, so I slowed down my playing. I got softer slowly until the talking began to get louder again, trying to find a good ratio of music to talking.
A smile spread across my lips and I was happy. The song was perfect for my mood and the emotion and power of the song rushed through my veins, my heart and breathing beginning to smoothen out and grow faster while I crescendo'd to a powerful climax of the song that soon faded out to an almost silent ending.
My hands came to a halt afterwards and I opened my eyes slowly, noticing all talking had stopped. I glanced across the open piano to see heather standing opposite me, leaning over the open piano and smiling as sweetly ever at me. My heart stopped and my jaw hung open for a moment, everyone in the room glancing at the two at the piano out of the corner of their eyes while they pretended to eat and be interested at whatever was at their table.
"Hello Gerik..." is all she said, trailing off while she walked over to my side of the piano - her voice sweet, quiet, perfect...
My jaw only dropped lower as I saw what she was wearing. She had worn a stunning perfectly black dress, and no doubt 100% silk judging by the way it flowed and the texture it had. It was V cut at the chest showing just a tiny bit of the white cleavage on her chest to anyone looking close enough. It went all the way to her feet, where she wore similarly black shoes. Some might think she was attending a funeral, but in reality it's hard to dress nice when you're black and white all over. This attire no doubt made a super model jealous by the way it made Heather look.
She took a casual seat beside me which bumped me back into reality, finally remembering to breath while her side brushed against mine. She looked over at me, still carrying her soothing smile. "Please continue... It's relaxing hearing you play." She said, my breath catching again as she wrapped an arm around my side.
My body was frozen. The only one I'd want here with me was actually here, leaning against me, and asking me to play. I stared off into nothing trying to rush through the songs I knew to find the perfect one, to describe how she made me feel, how I felt about her. My mind went blank soon enough though, and I looked down at my hands on the keys. The pattern was oddly familiar, and it took me a moment to see it was an Etude by Chopin. I hadn't played the song in a while, the intensity and emotion required usually wore me out, but today, it was worth it...
I took a deep breath and tried to slow my pounding heart, the orca at my side leaning away from my arm so I could play and scooting over some in case I needed to move my rump about - which I no doubt would have to given the song choice. The pace started out slow, my fingers moving swiftly to play subtle notes in a very relaxed lazy tone. After a few lines worth of music, the instensity slowly started to rise, my finger steadily hitting the keys harder. The hammers on the old piano were perfect for this song, bouncing off the long strings in the back as smoothly as butter with how worn in it was.
I could feel my heart following the rhythm again, my mind lost in the zone it goes when I play. My eyes closed to concentrate, but all I could see was Heather in that dress in my head, standing over the piano and looking up at me with her smile. The intensity of the song grew, the rhythm quickening, and the loudness growing. It quickly retreated into another slow rhythm of subtle motions though, repeating a few lines before it got the peak of all it's glory. My heart began to pound, flashes of her face twisted in pleasure on my bed beginning to flood my mind. My hands mashed at the keys in perfect chords, loudly banging the hammers against the strings to echo off a perfect harmony of notes that continued on for only a short time before it came crashing down to an abrupt end.
By the time I was done, there was not one set of eyes in the entire building not looking at me. Everyone had come to see and hear my music from the back, the smell of burnt chicken soon rising through the building before a few footsteps soon sounded to squelch the stench. I opened my eyes and looked beside me to Heather sitting right there, her face beaming as she wrapped her arms around me and planted her lips hard against my own.
My arms hugged her tightly to me and our bodies meshed. There were no words that could describe how I felt, and judging by her heartbeat and breathing, the feeling was mutual between us. Our hearts were beating in rhythm, and after the kiss our lips stayed close while we shared our breath with each other.
"I love you..."