Good Boy: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

"Thanks again," I added as Kelly walked into her room, in reference to letting me spend the night. She threw a hand up in response as she closed her door, not even looking back at me once more. I could have been a little bolder and went to sleep with Larisa, but the last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene if she totally objected and flipped out, drunk screaming at me. I took off my coat went to the bathroom, taking a final piss before bed. I paused at Larisa's room, stopping in front of the closed door. I wished it was open so that I could at least see her. I pussed out and didn't open it to peek in.

Their apartment was nice... two bedrooms, bathroom, and a living room/kitchen. It wasn't lavish, still being university housing and all. It was bigger than anything I had ever seen at another school. It almost resembled a college apartment on television or a movie because it was so big. But a grand palace it was not. The walls were dull white with cracks and other wear and tear, and the floor was tiled with giant grey squares. The girls threw down some carpets and added posters and other wall decorations to make it look less dirty and more home-like. They actually did a nice job of making it appear almost like a dorm apartment in a movie, filling it with cool things... tricking it out as the kids say. Kelly lived nearby, so she spent time in the summer traveling back and forth to make it cozier. The bathroom was really clean though, I'm sure because of Larisa. I got back to the living room area and took my pants off, not wanting to sleep in cargos. "Fuck," I cursed aloud. I forgot to bring extra clothes.

I have this thing about showering and wearing the same clothes two days in a row. If I didn't get a shower in the morning and had to put on the same clothes as the day before, I would claw off my skin within two hours. However, if I showered then put them on again, it was a lot easier to deal with. Optimally, I would love to have fresh clothes and a shower.

I kept my boxers on as I lied on the deceivingly comfortable brown couch. All that comes to mind right now is Chapelle Show... "Fuck yo couch nigga! Fuck yo couch!" Never being put "in the doghouse" as some might say, I never had to sleep on the couch before. However, I wouldn't mind with this one. It was like sleeping on a cloud. I turned off the lamp next to my makeshift bed and unfolded the pink blanket... Mo!... and spread it over my lower half, turning and burying my head between the back and the arm of the sofa, creating a little nook for my melon. I fell asleep within fifteen or twenty minutes as I thought of what I'd say to Larisa the next morning. After that, I'd figure out what blanket was more mo... her pink one or my blue floral pattern one. Buh dum, Jitterbug!!!!

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"Uggghhhhh. Huuuhhhh." I awoke to the sound of someone grunting and dry heaving. Lovely. ... Hot! I rubbed my eyes and threw my arm over the back of the sofa, pulling myself up to see over it. Through my half shut eyes, I could see Larisa throwing up into a garbage can, hunched over in the middle of the hallway. I guess she didn't make it to the bathroom. A second later, she disappeared into the little girls' room and I heard her spew into the toilet and flush it as I got off the couch, moving over to my sick lover.

Stumbling into the bathroom, still half asleep and a little cold, I discovered her hunched over the porcelain throne, her ass sticking out, her tush covered only by her "ah ha, black panties". Hot. I'd love to stick it in a girl and boff her as she's throwin up. Maybe that's just me? Lemme hear your thoughts... slider1234 at aol. I moved next to her, sitting on the thin rounded edge of the tub, and I picked up her hair, holding it as she made herself feel better. I placed my hand on her back, on top of her dark forest green t-shirt, gently rubbing it. I saw her look up at me slightly, shocked that I was the one helping her out.

"Wh... what?? M...Matt??" she stuttered.

"It's okay Riss," I said as I continued to comfort her, feeling heartbroken to see her feeling less than perfect. Larisa's expression turned to one of sickness and the ill girl quickly faced away from me.

"Huuhhh." She gripped the elevated counter with her right hand as she threw up again. Her body arched forward, her limbs stiff. Larisa's left hand was gripping her stomach as she felt queasy.

"It's okay. It's okay," I whispered, letting my hand rest on her back, applying as little pressure as I could. Larisa threw up a bit more and then stopped for a while. I found her transparent blue plastic cup next to the sink and filled it with water, letting her rinse her mouth out. I also took a washcloth from the towel rod on the wall and wet it with some tepid water, squeezing it out and applying it to the back of her neck. It was too chilly in her apartment for cold water on the rag, and warm never helps. Room temperature water was the best choice... the choice of a new generation. It looked marrrrvelous!!! At least I think that was the old Pepsi slogan. There were only so many ways of helping her. Larisa's right hand reached back and held my own against her left shoulder.

"I'm... I'm okay... I think," she mumbled. Larisa looked like she had the worst hangover. I felt so bad. Just awful. I never liked seeing anyone I cared about in any sort of pain, unless it was during some kinky sex. Some scat... yellow discipline. Mmm. SHOCK JOCK!

"Just stay here until you feel better, okay?" I sat down with her in front of the toilet bowl, sitting on the beige-colored shag rug that warmed up her feet every time she dropped a deuce. I'm sorry... made roses. Girls don't pooh.

"Matt... What are you doing here?" she said as she rubbed her pale face and closed her eyes, her head lying on top of her arm, on top of the seat, trying to keep her stomach settled and calm.

"I needed to see you. I couldn't leave things like that," I said as I leaned back against the wall, looking over at her.

"...Ma... Matt. I'm..." she blabbed out as her face turned even paler and she lunged for the commode. Larisa threw up once more, a final power puke, forcing out the bad like Michael Clarke Duncan in The Green Mile.

"It's okay hun," I said as I held her hair back for her once more. "It's okay." We stayed like that for a few minutes, not saying anything. I just sat there with her and caressed her back softly, giving her water as she used the toilet seat as a pillow. It was the lid, not where you put your ass. Finally, she seemed to feel a lot better, the color returning to her gorgeous face. She stood up, wanting to go to her bed again and sleep the hangover off. "Riss, just quick brush your teeth first." Not only does vomiting stink your breath up, but it rots your teeth. It also helps you stay quite thin and sexy.

"Okay Matt," Larisa spoke quietly. She reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste and began scrubbing her mouth.

"I'll wait outside, okay?" I wondered how much she drank last night. In all the time I knew her she never threw up from drinking. I could only imagine how bad she must have been the previous night. It would have killed me to hear she was drinking because of me and because I somehow hurt her. A minute or two later, she emerged from the bathroom and I put my arm around her waist, escorting her to her bed. I pulled down the baby blue covers and helped her into bed. "I'm gonna get you Tylenol okay? I'll clean your garbage can out too."

"Matt," Larisa said, trying to sit up.

"Yeah Riss? No, lay still," I tenderly commanded her as she tried to pull herself up. As I started sitting down on the bed next to her, Larisa started to get choked up.

"Ma... I'm so sorry. I'm..." she tried to say as the tears slowly rolled down from her eyes.

"Hey. Hey. It's okay Riss. It's okay." My voice was so soft and calm. I was like a parent forgiving my kid after running away. Leaning down, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close to me.

"I had no right to hit you. I'm... I'm..." She started to full out cry in my arms.

"Shhh. Shhh," I whispered softly as I cradled her head against me, like she was a giant freak infant. "Don't worry about it," I added. "Everything's all right." Mmmm. She smelled like peppermint. Thank God.

"I love you Matt. I love you," she cried as she squeezed her arms around my shoulders, locking her hands together, holding me so incredibly tightly down against her.

"I love you Larisa. Just please rest," I whispered into her ear as I kissed the side of her head.

"Okay," she mumbled, still not letting go of me. We lied there holding each other, putting the fight behind us for a few minutes. I pulled back and kissed her on the forehead, letting my lips rest against her smooth skin for a few moments.

"I love you," I said as I looked into her chocolate brown eyes, tenderly stroking the side of her face as she looked back at me lovingly, relieved that I forgave her so easily. "I'm gonna get you Tylenol. Lay still okay?"

"Okay," Larisa replied, sounding exhausted. She went to sleep late and it was early. She probably tossed and turned all night feeling queasy. She leaned up and then placed her head back down on the fluffy pillow, getting more comfortable, closing her tired eyes and resting from the ordeal that had just taken place.

I brought her small white garbage can to the tub and filled it with soapy water, trying to wash it out. Thank God there was only a miniscule amount of throw up in it. I spilled out the dirty water and refilled it with soapy water, letting it soak. Then as I filled the clear blue mug with cold Brita water in the kitchen, I was thankful I wasn't the one drinking it. I got a thing about Brita. I'm sure it filters out all the impurities and shit in the pipes or whatever magic it does, but it just skieves me out, especially when I see kids in my dorm filling it in the janitor's sink, where they clean out jugs of bleach and chemicals and wash out hoses. GROSS. Maybe that scarred me for life. I also took late night pisses in that sink. Who needs to walk across a lounge to pee? I'd be wide awake by the time I was done, being it was so far. The closet was two doors away. ... ... I brush my teeth in there so I shouldn't even talk. I stopped back in the bathroom and took two pills out of the medicine cabinet, then continued down to my sick lover.

"You asleep, Riss?" I asked quietly as she lied perfectly still on the bed, her eyes gently shut, her breathing soft and steady. She had her hands on top of one another on her stomach, resting like a corpse. A sexy corpse. ...I'm sorry. That was redundant. I placed my hand on her ankle and tenderly squeezed it to see if she responded. Larisa groaned and opened her eyes again. "Take this and then you can go back to sleep. It's just after eight o'clock." She took the mug from my hand and washed down the two pills with her 'clean purified water'.

"Here," I said as I took the glass back from her and placed it on the nightstand next to her bed, the bed we christened with sex the weekend she moved in. The cup was still half full, or half empty, depending on your personality, so I moved it to the far end of the nightstand. "Sleep. You'll feel better," I whispered, trying not to use a lot of words, hoping I didn't wake her back up too much.

"Maaatty?" she asked me in a lovey-dovey manner, her eyes closed in exhaustion, as I walked away from her bed. Her voice was weak and a bit scratchy from the strain on her throat. Not exactly like a sexy stripper who smoked scratchy, but she was halfway there.

"...?" I raised my eyebrows in response, not saying anything.

"Don't leave? Please?" How could I say no to those shut puppy dog eyes and lifeless pouting lips? As I gazed over at her, I envisioned myself doing this for her ten years down the line and being perfectly content with it. This was the girl I could marry and take care of, for better or for worse. At that particular moment, there was no other person I'd rather nurse back to health, and I couldn't help but smile. "Why you smiling?" she asked in a low raspy tone, still half asleep and groggy, her eyes opened like a Chinese person.

"Don't worry about it," I replied. "And of course I'll stay with you hun. You just have to get on your side of the bed." Being hung over ain't gonna let her get a pass on using the left side of the bed. Larisa shut her eyes and smiled, pausing for a few seconds.

"Baaaby, I'm sick." Larisa was really working the "poor me" face as she was less than half awake, still appearing exhausted despite her conversing with me. It was as if she was in a hypnotic trance, half awake half asleep. God, what a great actress. "And it's my bed." I just sighed, knowing the nice thing to do would be to let her rest where she is and sacrifice my game which only worked to the left. What would I do?

"...Fine," I said bitterly, sighing as I walked around to the other side of the twin sized bed. I'm a pussy. I know. I crawled into bed next to her, underneath the baby blue covers, which were nowhere as comfy as my blanket. I tried my best not to shake the bed and upset her stomach. FYI, in real life, my blanket is dead. The stuffing is ripped apart and bunched up... that is whatever hasn't disintegrated. I found out that the blanket is twenty-seven years old and was a wedding present to my parents. Ohho, but I'm still using the sumbitch, even though some parts are thinner than a t-shirt. It's just so hard to find a comfy new one. ...And the fighting I have with MUHHHTER when she says she's not getting it re-stuffed. ... ... Addendum – My Dad just threw the blanket out because, and I quote, "You're F'ing Disgusting."

The lovely Larisa Oleynik turned to face me, lying on her left arm. I brought my hand up to her cheek and tenderly ran my fingers over it, brushing her short light brown hair behind her ear. "Go to sleep Riss," I whispered as I moved over to kiss her on the forehead. A smile appeared on Larisa's face as she curled up in the fetal position, resting against me like a baby puppy to its mother. Too bad she didn't suck on my man nips like one.

"Thank you Matthew," she mumbled as she instantly drifted off to sleep once more, still fatigued from the late night drinking and early morning recovering. The two of us shared her bed as she recuperated. I lied on my right side, holding Larisa in my left arm, softly caressing her back as she slept off the alcohol. As I watched her sleep, I couldn't help but think of our fight even though we kissed and made up. Something was definitely wrong with her. She never got that moody before or said things that mean to me. I had never tried to use her only for sex nor got pissed when she wasn't in the mood. ...Which was rare. She also never drank to the point where she got sick... ever. Contemplating the possible reasons for her mood swings, I passed out as well on the moderately soft bed, holding the woman I loved.

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Larisa's hand softly ran over the side of my face, stroking my cheek ever so gently, easing my wake up from round two of sleep. She looked wide awake as she rested her head on her outstretched left arm, looking over at me. Her arm pointed up towards the wall at the head of the bed, gently bent at the elbow, her fingers dangling down onto her silky dirty blonde hair.

"Hmmm," I quietly and happily groaned as I blinked a few times, waking up to the greatest possible sight. The bedroom was dim. The lights were off and a small bit of the afternoon sun crept through the shut curtains, casting a dull glow over the room. "How do you feel sweetheart?" I asked in a daze as I closed my eyes for another few seconds. I was still half asleep and it felt like a dream.

"A lot better, thanks to you," she softly spoke through the warm smile on her face. I reached up, blindly holding her hand to my cheek, cooing softly as her touch started my day off perfectly. I remained still, my eyes closed, trying to doze off for just a little bit longer. After realizing I couldn't fall back asleep, I gave up trying.

"Hey Riss... what happened last night, after you got back?" I asked, my eyes still closed. I was awake, but just resting them. I didn't want to ruin the calm quiet moment, but I really did want to know what happened, even if we put this behind us already. Her hand slid off my face, falling onto the bed, like the life drained out of her as a result of my asking.

"...I don't remember a whole lot, to be honest. I had too much to drink on a really empty stomach." Larisa continued, "I came back here upset. Kel suggested we drink... hang out with her boyfriend and his friend... to cheer me up, take my mind off it." I didn't speak for a second, honestly half paying attention to her response. Finally, it hit me. My eyes popped open and I was no longer tired.

"Another guy?" I asked jealously, probably prematurely. "Which friend was this?" I added, somewhat sternly. Kelly's boyfriend Jason was fine. I really didn't know him that well but he seemed decent enough. If it was his friend Bobby, I was going to be pissed. I didn't trust him, with his smooth talking and constant flirting with Larisa, even in front of me. We all hung out in some bar one weekend and I really wanted to knock him the fuck out, drunken bar fight style. Toss him on the bar and drag him down the length of it... that whole type thing.

"..." Larisa looked like she wanted to lie to me for my own sake. "It was Bobby," she said hesitantly, understanding I would definitely get pissed. "Matt," she said interrupting me as I was about to speak. "Don't get mad." Too late. And I was wide awake now. And I had to pee.

"Larisa, I don't like that guy. All he does is try to get in your pants." She looked into my eyes as she frantically contemplated her next choice of words.

"I didn't know you to be the jealous type." Didn't expect her to take it in that direction, but okay.

"I'm not overly jealous. I just don't fuckin trust this guy, especially with my girlfriend." I struggled to keep my voice at a reasonable volume. It might have come off like I was suggesting she was a slut, but I didn't mean it like that. Luckily, she didn't take it wrong.

"I know love. Listen, we all drank, and I talked to him. I told him about our fight and stuff. Kelly and Jay hooked up. Bobby just listened to me. That's all. They ended up leaving after a couple hours. They didn't stay too late." Hmmm. Alcohol, a pissed off girlfriend, and a douche bag that tries to fuck everything. To be honest, she seemed a little too fast with her answers.

"I thought you didn't remember too much?" If she was drinking a lot to the point of passing out and throwing up, how did she remember exactly what happened? I wasn't sure how much she added to the actual story in order to calm me down.

"I don't. ...Matt. Matt! You think I...?!?" She took that one the wrong way. Oh Christ. Here we go again. Her eyes opened wide and she angrily scrunched up her nose in shock and disbelief... with those anger lines appearing on her forehead.

"I didn't say anything," I shot back, defending myself.

"You think I kissed him? Don't you?" Larisa started to get defensive and loud, half sitting up our bed. I stretched my arms up and dropped my hands on my face, over my eyes, rubbing them hard. "Matthew Ryan! When have I ever made you feel like I could cheat on you??"

"No Larisa. I know you wouldn't do that. But he would... he'd try to take advantage..." She looked me in the eyes, first through my fingers, then directly at them after I stopped rubbing them. She calmed down when she saw the trust and exhaustion in them. She could easily see I wasn't trying to pick a fight. She sighed and loosened up, still leaning/sitting up next to me.