Day Four: The Pool

The next morning, Alex spent a lot of time in his room. Clara checked on him a few times, but he sent her away with smooth words that she could tell were not totally the truth. Nonetheless, she did as he asked, leaving him on his own to cope with whatever was bothering him. She didn't understand, at least at first, and Alex was glad of that. Currently, he was still trying to work through it himself.

The problem was this.

Alex was not sure if he had gone too far or not. When he had started this, when Clara had roped him into this game, it had been all due to her. He'd acted the way that she wanted him to, the harsh master, ready to punish or reward as he desired. Clara had loved, and he had loved Clara's joy. But at some point, as he had said yesterday, Alex had realised that he had started to enjoy the role itself. He was usually so gentle, usually so kind. He found that he liked to be the one in charge. He found that he enjoyed commanding, telling others what to do. It fed something in him, something that had been starved before.

Alex was facing an aspect of himself, newly emerging, that he did not yet know how to handle. Yesterday, they had gone far. Further than they ever had before. At the time, it had seemed so natural, so easy. He'd done it because Clara would enjoy it, or so he'd said to himself. Now, he mused on whether it was true. Had he done it for Clara? Or had he done it for himself? When he had used that shower head on her, had it been because he knew that feeling helpless turned her on, or because he'd wanted her to writhe and beg? He'd enjoyed it, but was it for the wrong reasons? He'd been so confident that he could do so, that he could be Clara's guide and lover, taking her to the dark places as he had promised and bringing them both out, but now, at the very first pass, it seemed like Alex was having trouble himself. Was he growing too comfortable with his role? Should he carry on, wondering if he would lose himself in it? Or was he just being silly, and he only needed to trust himself more?

He drummed his fingers on the computer desk in his room a she considered the problem. Worry warring with desire to keep going. It was true, he enjoyed what he and Clara were doing, he enjoyed it a lot, especially after last night. The feeling of her pressing against his body even now made him stiff, and he knew he'd treasure the sounds of her grunts and moans for a long time to come.

Eventually, he decided that he probably wouldn't be able to solve it alone, so he went to his computer, and called up an email address from his list of contacts. He paused here, wondering who he should talk to. Rather naturally, the subject was rather sensitive, and it wasn't like he could talk to just anyone. Joe? Not a chance. Henry? Ehh, the two of them had never quite got along as friends. His brother? Not even as a joke.

No, there was really only one person who he could talk to about this sort of thing.

Sighing to himself, and knowing that she would probably have a big, knowing, grin the next time that he saw her in person, Alex started to type out an email to Lilly.