Because I'm Yours

I grinned at the expression on his face. 'I was scared shitless of you. You look scary, and when you say things like that, it should sound scary, but you sound really sweet, even when you're threatening me with your penis.'

Tyson half-rolled his eyes as he tried futilely not to smile. I descended into laughter as I swatted his bum.

'Sorry,' I apologised, not meaning a single word. 'You're really cute. I had a lot of fun with you. I think if you and I practiced, we could have some amazing sex.'

He grabbed me and squeezed me tight. Our eyes met. He wore the expression of a man who wants something but is worried about the reaction might be if he asks it, which no doubt mirrored me, because that was what I was thinking.

Tyson decided to take the risk. 'I reckon you're right, but I don't just want sex. I want to go out with you next weekend. Dinner or a movie or something.'

'Sounds good.'

'Awesome. I'll confirm the details with you during the week.'

'Cool. Are you ready to go to bed? Because I need to pee, and I can share a toothbrush with you, but I can't pee in front of you.'

'I'll wait outside and then take a leak when you're done.'

As I sat on the toilet and urinated, it occurred to me that Tyson was an easy person to simply be with. There was no fuss, no arguments. I'd even liked the music he'd had playing in his car.

I washed my hands, walked past him and swatted him on the bum. He smiled and said I was crazy, but the expression on his face told me he was pleased. He still had an erection, and as he slipped past me into the bedroom I asked how he was planning on taking a piss.

'With great difficulty,' he replied, and we both laughed.

He must've managed it somehow, because he was back in bed ten minutes later with a significantly softer cock.

'Took a while,' he apologised.

'It's okay. I think ten minutes passed, but I'm stoned, so it could have been two.'

'I think it was more like two than ten.' He slipped into bed and snuggled me. 'And it's taken about five seconds to get hard again.'

He was spooning me, and I could feel it pressing against my bum. Tyson kissed my neck and cuddled me, but made no move to take things further.

'Will you be able to get to sleep?' I asked.

'Without the weed? Probably not. With it, yeah. In two minutes I'll end up snoring.'

I thought about the steroids.

'Is it normal to take steroids?' I asked. 'Like, if you're a bodybuilder or just want muscles?'

Tyson replied immediately and confidently. 'Yep.'

'Really?'

'Uh-huh. I'm a fucking lightweight compared to some of the blokes my brother trains.'

'Does it give you a warped idea of what's normal?'

'For sure. It wasn't so bad in the early years. It was more after the girls came along, and I was at home, that it amped up. I got a lot of shit from people about staying at home and going to university, you know, 'what sort of man lives off his wife', 'aren't you embarrassed', 'isn't Bianca worried you'll molest the girls?' all that sort of stuff. Suddenly my five day a week gym routine was down to three days if I was lucky, I was feeling shit, my wife was working seventy hours a week and was screaming at me because she was upset about leaving a young baby... it piled up. When you're in that situation, you find something to focus on. It becomes a way of reminding yourself you're still a man, because I sure as fuck didn't feel like one.'

'That's really bizarre, because when you told me you'd looked after young kids, I was really impressed.'

Tyson chuckled under his breath. 'The reality is pretty fucking different from the ideal. On the other hand, everyone was convinced I'd fuck up uni, and I secretly agreed with them, but overall, I found it a lot easier than I'd expected. Once I knew what they wanted from me, I just did it. It was like any other regular job. Plus, I'd been working in transport and logistics for six years by then, and I studied logistics, so while everyone else was struggling to remember what 'demurrage' was, I could quote tariffs without breaking a sweat. Not that anyone needed the exact rates, but I could have given them.'

'The last part of that statement made no sense.'

'I knew what my lecturers were talking about,' he clarified. 'Most of the time, I didn't need to study full time to pass. That definitely helped. And I'd work over the summer break, labour hire, that sort of shit. That helped keep me sane. But mainly, it was getting bigger and stronger that saved me.'

'Wow. I wish I was so dedicated.'

'Nah, you look and feel good. Really soft but firm.' He ran his hands over my arms, the side of my stomach and the curve of my hips to prove his point. His penis continued to jab me in the bum. 'Ignore my dick. It's not going to go down. I'm not trying anything on, but I want to hold you.'

'I know,' I said.

We lapsed into silence. Tyson kept touching me, running his hands through my hair and kissing my neck, back and shoulders, and I didn't stop him. It wasn't consciously sexual behaviour. Unconsciously, sure, he didn't know me well enough to have any sort of emotion towards me, so of course what he was doing was driven by an unbidden, natural desire to complete the sex act, but I knew he wouldn't push it.

~~~~~~~

At some point we fell asleep. I half-remember waking up with a sore arm and wiggling over to my preferred side of the bed and pulling a cover over me. I was tired, though, and I was in a drug-induced sleep, so I barely acknowledged that I was sharing a bed with someone.

It was the early hours of the morning when I found myself awake for a second time. This week I wasn't dozing, I was wide awake and I soon realised why. The room seemed unusually bright, and when I turned around, towards the door, I saw that the lights in the kitchen and living area were on, as was the laundry room light. Tyson wasn't in my bed and, judging by the noises I was hearing, he was rummaging around my cupboards in the kitchen.

My heart began to race. Something wasn't right. I could understand him going to the bathroom and needing to turn on the light because he wasn't familiar with the layout of the apartment. I could also appreciate him waking up, having second thoughts about seeing me again, deciding to go home and putting on his newly washed - if wet - clothes and taking off.

Maybe he'd decided to put his wet clothes in the dryer before heading off, and was making himself a cup of coffee while they dried? Possible, I thought. But likely? What in fuck's name was he doing?

I was anxious as buggery and trying to summon up the courage to get out of bed when Tyson crept into the room. He padded around to my side of the bed, and I shut my eyes tight and pretended to sleep. I heard him crouch down beside me, checking to see if I was awake, and nearly wet myself with fear.

Rather than murder me, as I was terrified he might, he stood up and walked away. Oh, sweet merciful Jesus, I thought. He's going to leave. He's not going to kill me.

That's when I felt him lift the blanket and kneel on the bed.

'Stop!' I demanded, sitting up suddenly. 'What are you doing?'

I came face to face with naked Tyson with a handful of kitchen towels in his hand. He'd genuinely thought I was asleep and he froze in situ. Then, to my complete confusion, a blush coloured his face.

'I came,' he muttered.

'You... what?'

'Oh fuck,' he muttered, staring at the ceiling. He threw the handful of kitchen towel on the bed in dismay. 'I came. Orgasmed. Blew my load. In my sleep. I was trying to clean it up so you wouldn't notice.'

I sat up as a wave of relief washed over me. He'd come. Gosh. I'd thought I was about to get robbed or murdered.

'I probably would have noticed when I next washed my sheets,' I said.

'I was thinking I'd just take the sheets off the bed and wash them in the morning before you had a chance to find out,' he confessed. 'Ah fuck. Really sorry Jade. I didn't mean to scare you.'

A fucking wet dream. God, I'd never had a submissive do that before. I'd woken to one or two grinding against the mattress in the sleep, but they'd never completed the sex act.

I pulled the sheets back and grabbed the kitchen towel. I felt around for the wet patch, but Tyson grabbed my hand in horror and shook his head. He was mortified, poor guy.

'Are you sure you came?' I asked. 'You still have an erection.'

'I'm sure,' he grunted, taking the towels from me and finding the tell tale section of sheets. 'I'm really sorry. Fuck. It's just humiliating. Got a hole I can crawl into?'

That's when I began to laugh. Tyson, too, saw the funny side of it and smiled, then chuckled, then laughed. Tears streamed down our cheeks and my stomach hurt from laughing too hard, but I couldn't stop and neither could my companion.

It was good. Really good. I liked him.

~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Two

I have a sex doll. A female sex doll. Ordinarily, mostly-straight women don't buy female sex dolls, but Cassandra is different.

Cassandra, my real doll, was bought as a prop by an installation artist who had a lot of money but was easily distracted, and in between ordering his doll and receiving it, he'd moved on to other projects. I saw the doll when I visited his gallery to deliver some documents that urgently needed signing and had been unable to hide my interest. The artist noted my interest and told me I could take her home if I so wished. She was too heavy for him to manoeuvre around and as he was homosexual, he had no sexual interest in her.

'I believe there'd be a conflict of interest if I took her,' I replied. 'But I'd certainly be interested in buying her. What's your price?'

'Oh, I don't know. A thousand dollars? And I'll deliver her.'

Delivery took four weeks. The artist wasn't a prompt person, but when I gently chased him up, he apologised profusely and said he'd send his 'boy' around that afternoon. Sure enough, three hours later, Cassie arrived with a slender blonde man.

The artist hadn't been kidding when he'd said the doll was heavy. I'd thought she might weigh twenty or so kilos. In reality, she was closer to fifty. She had dark brown hair, heterochromatic eyes - one blue, one brown - giant breasts and a surprisingly realistic vulva. She'd arrived wearing a transparent chemise and thong and, as I couldn't lift her on my own, that's what she was still wearing two years' later.

I'd had lots of wild, fabulous ideas about how I might be able to use her, but my plans had been tempered by my lover's refusal to even touch her, let alone fuck her. He'd been disgusted and had grown angry when I asked him 'why not?', which was pretty much his stock standard reaction whenever I asked him for something he didn't want to do.

I was yet to tell Tyson about Cassie. He'd only been over to my flat once, last Friday night, and the door to the spare room in which Cassie resided, had remained shut. Now we were out to dinner, eating steak and baked veggies, and I was thinking about how I might ask if he'd ever consider fucking a sex doll.

'You look really nice,' Ty said. 'I really like your hair.'

My hair was freshly dyed so it was as burgundy as it got. The colour didn't even mimic a natural shade, but it was as far from normal as a professional woman could stray without causing the powers that be to have a coronary. Besides, it contrasted nicely with my skin and drew attention away from the fact that I was a size sixteen.

'Thanks,' I said. 'I have to colour it every two weeks or it starts looking sloppy.'

I cut my steak and inspected my date as he ate. He was nervous, more nervous this weekend than he was the last. If he was planning on doing something stupid like tell me he loved me, I was going to choke him, and not in the way that I generally enjoyed choking men.

'How are your girls?' I asked. He had custody of his daughters for five days' a fortnight, and he'd told me he'd had them this week.

'Oh good, good. We got our homework dramas sorted.'

He pulled out his phone and showed me a photo of his two girls; one was a first grader, one in third grade, and both were blonde haired and dark eyed. They were cute kids, but what I'd really wanted to see was a picture of their mother. I'd tried searching for her on Facebook but had been unsuccessful.

'Honestly, their Mum'd save us both a ton of drama and save herself a ton of money if she'd just send them to a public school,' Tyson said. 'She wanted me to pay for half originally, but I laughed at that. I don't know what sort of salary she thinks I'm earning these days, but it sure as shit isn't a six figure one, and if she and I survived public schools, the kids can, too. What do you reckon?'

'I wouldn't know,' I admitted. 'I'm a product of the Catholic education system.'

He good-naturedly rolled his eyes. 'Where you can get molested as a bonus.'

'Only if you're a boy.'

He laughed and told me I was a pervert.

I liked Tyson. It wasn't just the muscles or the bad sense of humour, it was him as a whole. He made my stomach do the flip-flop thing, but unlike other men in my past, I didn't think what I was feeling were merely infatuation. He was easy to hang out with, easy to talk to.

'Can I ask you a grossly personal question?' I inquired.

'Sure.'

'Have you had a vasectomy?'

'No. Bianca wasn't done having kids and while I didn't want any more with her, because I knew our marriage was going to end, I thought I might regret doing anything permanent,' he replied. 'Is it my turn now to ask a personal question?'

'Go for it.'

'Are you on any sort of birth control?'

'No. I never use hormonal birth control. It kills my sex drive, makes me gain weight and gives me crazy mood swings.'

The implications of my statement set in. No man wants to be told he's going to have to use a condom or pull out each and every time he has sex with you.

'Have you ever gotten pregnant?' Ty asked.

'Nope.'

We continued to eat our dinner. I knew Tyson was thinking about the lack of hormonal birth control.

'Is it bothering you?' I asked. 'Me not being on the pill?'

'It scares me.'

'It shouldn't. A condom is the only guaranteed way a man knows he's taking care of things. It's pretty easy to tell if they've failed.'

'I don't know.' He gave me a wry smile. 'It's a mental block, I guess. I just remember high school and being told how unreliable they are.'

'If used incorrectly,' I qualified. 'But it's up to you.'

'Well, no, it isn't really, is it? It's your body. I can't say 'take something you don't want to take'.'

'Similarly, I can't demand you have sex with me if you don't feel comfortable with it.'

He reached over the table and touched my arm. I glanced up and smiled at him, trying to show I wasn't doing this to be difficult. I'd had four attempts at hormonal birth control and the three men who'd born witness to my mood swings while on it had hastily agreed that condoms were a much better alternative.

'On a lighter note,' I teased. 'I do have a very realistic female sex doll for you to expel your carnal energies upon. No condom required and no risk of pregnancy.'

Tyson was flabbergasted. 'You have a what?'

'Cassandra. She was in my spare room last weekend. Would you like a photo?'

'Of your sex doll?'

'Of Cassie,' I said. 'She has a name you know.'

Tyson shared at me and shook his head. He was trying to hold back the 'I think you're crazy' laugh and not really succeeding. 'I want to know why you have a sex doll. Did one of your ex's leave her behind?'

I showed Tyson a photo and explained how I came to own Cassie. He was both weirded out and amused, and he carefully viewed each photo I showed.

After a considered inspection of the images, and a few minutes to mull over why I might be telling him about my sex doll, Tyson spoke.

'Do you ask your boyfriends to have sex with your doll instead of you?' he asked.

'No. I've only had one partner during the time I've had her, and I offered her to him but he refused.'

'I can see why.'

'Really? Why? She's completely unused. Virgin vagina.' I took a bite of steak. 'My vagina most certainly isn't virgin and you had no qualms about putting your penis inside it.'

'That's different. You're attached to your vagina, and I like you.'

'I'm sure you've had sex with women you don't like.'

Tyson shrugged. 'Not really.'

I folded my arms over my chest and waited for a more honest answer.

'I'm not kidding,' he said. 'I'm not really sure how many sexual partners you think I go through.'

'Well, you're a man, so tell me a number and I'll divide it by three.'

'Eighteen.'

'So, six?'

'Six,' he agreed. 'One I loved once upon a time, four I liked, one I... don't know what she wants from me.'

I knew what Tyson was driving at. Every conversation we'd had so far had focussed on him and his wants. He'd asked me questions about me and I'd deferred them, or given brief answers, or, in one or two instances, lied.

Don't ever assume that because a man's submissive in bed, he's submissive the rest of the time. Likely, he won't be. That's both the joy and the pain of them. You get used to having control in one area, then all of a sudden they pull you up in another and demand answers they're rightfully owed.

'What?' he prodded, not unkindly. 'You think it's perfectly normal to ask me to fuck a sex doll, but I can't ask if you're interested in a relationship with me?'

'I don't know how to reply. I suppose I'm just genuinely surprised by what you look like, and who you are in life. I'd read your online profile. I'd read your emails. In my head I'm putting together 'managerial job' with 'ugly' and 'inexperienced' and I'm imagining a man who's entirely different, and not just physically, but who you'd be as a person.'

'Is that a polite way of saying 'thanks but no thanks'?'

'No, it's an honest way of saying I'm nervous. At work, I'm all confidence and professionalism. In the bedroom, I'm pretty much the same. But feelings wise, emotionally, and when it comes to other people's emotions, I have no control, and that makes me cautious.'

Tyson picked up his knife and fork and cut a piece of steak. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt and he had great arms, the kind of muscles most men would die for, tatts, and a coating of stubble on his forearms. He hadn't been shaving. His body had been almost entirely shaved last time but I'd commented that I liked hair on a man and he'd now stopped with the hair removal. I took it as a sign.

'Yes,' I said confidently. 'I'm interested. You?'

'A hundred percent.'

We both stopped toying with our food and smiled at each other. Tyson got up, leant over the table and kissed me. It was the second kiss of the evening, but by far the better.

'I'll fuck your sex doll if that's what you want,' he offered.

'No, no. I want you to want to fuck her. I want to watch you touch her because you're curious.'

'Have you touched her?'

'Several times. It's surreal.'

'Can I be crass?' he asked.

'I'd prefer it if you were.'

Tyson grinned. 'What's her lady parts like?'

'Interesting.'

He sipped his beer. 'I hope you're happy with yourself. Now I'm curious.'

'Just let me know if and when you want to try her.'

A group sat down at the table next to us and our conversation naturally turned from sex to more humdrum, everyday matters. I tried to imagine being in a relationship with Tyson, and how his and my friends and family might react.

My family was made up of practicing Catholics, so his divorce wouldn't be viewed favourably, but other than that, there didn't seem to be much about Tyson that was particularly contentious. I knew he didn't end up with the body he had through hard work alone, and that he'd had an affair while married, but there was no need for Mum and Dad to learn these facts.