Page 49 of Forgotten
Laying back down I close my eyes, and maybe Ash means it’s time he wanks me off. I hope he does. And shit, do I love being right.
It’s unexpected, but also, it’s everything I have ever imagined. Everything I ever needed. Ash settles in the crook of my neck, where he leaves a trail of wet kisses and words of praise. His hands find their way inside my shorts, and he begins stroking me gently, carefully, as if I could break any second.
I bite my lip, fighting against the urge to ask for more, for harder. I don’t need to be treated like a patient, like the poor man who was in an accident and might disintegrate. I need Ash to take me and give it to me and just do something. Instinctively I lift my hips higher to meet Ash’s hand and he stops, releasing my dick and bringing both hands to keep my hips from moving.
A grunt leaves my lips, a sound I’ve never heard myself make. “Stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”
“Right now, you might as well be,” Ash breathes in my ear, and I fight him to push against his hold.
“I swear to God. You started this and you will finish this, Bergman,” I bark out, wiggling when Ash moves to lay partially on top of me.
There’s a fire in his eyes, the hint of a joke. As if he’s deeply aware of how crazy he is making me, how desperately I need him.
“Promise to stay put?” he says and fuck, I hate him. I nod anyway.
With the widest and wickedest grin, Ash leaves a kiss to my parted lips and moves lower. “If you move, I will stop. We are really messing with the doctors’ orders here and I cannot have anything happen to you,” Ash tells mesternly.
“I would like something to fucking happen to me,” I tease him but all confidence disappears when Ash starts lowering my shorts. With one hand, Ash lifts my shirt to reveal my belly button and his fingers graze the skin around it, taking my breath away.
“Something like this?”
I try to lay perfectly still, enjoying the way Ash’s perfect lips wrap around my length and drive me to madness. Holding the brace to my chest, I wonder exactly where this activity falls on the spectrum of strenuous and I find I cannot care less.
I beg Ash to let me come after minutes, hours of torture. But Ash won’t allow it, his spit sticky and hishands scorching fire on my skin. I’ve never felt like this and somehow, my brain starts catching up. I’m with a man, I’m with my best friend and I’m incredibly horny.
When the tingling sensation finally explodes and I cry out in pleasure, an insane thought crosses my mind: has losing years of memories been worth it, if it meant I got to experience my first orgasm with Ash again? Yes. Kinda. I’d give anything to forget Ashley altogether if I could meet him again for the first time, smell him for the first time, hug him for the first time. And then never let him go.
My mind is swimmy, my thoughts foggy. Am I even making sense?
The weight of my feelings should be surprising, scary even. But they’re not.
You love me, so, Ash had said the other night. And maybe, that’s enough of an explanation for this insanity.
Or actually, what Ash actually meant was,it’s timeto bring Winnie back home. Our daughter. Now that would make more sense. The blowjob was just on the side.
I lay on the wrinkled sheets and wait for my brain to start working again while Ash is speaking with my dad on the phone. I can’t stop looking at Ash, can’t stop wondering if he’s hard as well, if he wants me as much. The weight of his body, the touch of his fingers, the way he had wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. All I want is to drag him back to bed, hold him close until everything makes sense again.
Instead I nod at Ash’s wink, putting my needs aside. My breath hitches when Ash hooks the phone betweenhis ear and his shoulder, and adjusts his crotch with both hands. Fuck. I get out of bed and into an extremely coldshower.
When I’m done, I venture upstairs for the first time. I cannot recall ever being on the second floor of Ash’s house, and I’m surprised to see how large it actually is. Off the small hallway there are two rooms and a bathroom. All three doors are closed. Could it be a sign to stay out? I ignore it and push the first one open.
The room is a light purple, the rooflight cracked open to let fresh air in. There is a pink chair in a corner with a blanket thrown casually on the armrest. Next to the chair is a book shelf that cannot be taller than a meter. It is full of books of every size and colour. Here and there, there are trinkets and toys: a yellow rubber duck, a blue candle and at the top of the book shelf, some dried flowers in a vase. I can imagine myself and Ash picking something to read to Winnie, one of us sat on the warm carpet and the other sat on the chair. The floor lamp between the shelf and the chair would cast just enough light on the three of us, its flowery lampshade elegant and feminine. The picture is so vivid in my head, it must be real. Only, there is nothing else. Brain empty.
I look around, and I have no idea who picked out all of these toys, or the dollhouse. Was it me who chose the adorable clothes rack and the little table in the middle of the room, the perfect size for a tea party? Was it me who agreed to the bunny and the panda and the giraffe that are now staring at me from the top of a wicker basket?
A wooden crib is against one of the walls, a mobile hanging over it with a moon, stars, trees, mountains, a moose and a bear. I walk to it and grab one of the soft toys in my hand, and the motion prompts a soft melody.
“You picked that one.” Ash’s voice comes from the entrance and I jump in surprise. I turn to look at him, letting go of the toy. The music fades.
Ash is leaning against the doorframe in leopard shorts and a lime sweater.
“You didn’t come down for coffee,” he says, and I don’t miss the hint of panic.
“Does this remind you of Norway?” I ask him, my attention back on the mobile. The moon and the stars are yellow while the bear and the moose are brown. I move my fingers through the strings.
“It does.”
“I guessed. Do you miss her?” Winnie, Winnie, Winnie. I shout her name in my mind, thinking of the little girl I met at the hospital.
