Picking Up the Pieces

Each step hurt I was so painfully hard. The bed looked so far away. I pulled Peter down to the floor with me and began fighting with his pants. He quickly stripped me out of mine, then finished undressing himself, I was whimpering and dripping and hindering him more than helping. He laughed at my eagerness then pushed me onto my back.

"Knees up." I obeyed without thinking. First he blew on the tip of my erection and the sensation was more than I could bear. I tried to push away from him, but he pinned my hips and licked me root to tip. My muscles froze and my heart stopped. I tried to scream but didn't have the breath. With another laugh Peter took me into his mouth and began to suck. I gripped his hair as tightly as I was able and tried to push in as deeply as I could. Each giggle or moan from Peter's mouth turned my spine into a tuning fork. I felt an explosion was imminent, but right before it truly became too much Peter pulled away.

"No, please, so close!" I whined and twisted, trying to force his head back. Peter merely smiled and pushed my legs closer to my chest and disappeared behind them. I held my breath waiting for what he would do, and when his tongue touched my most private place I couldn't hold back any longer. Streams and streams of white decorated my chest, and long after they stopped my orgasm continued. I Lights spun behind my eyes as I felt Peter's velvet tongue cleaning my stomach and chest. His hand petted my sweat soaked hair from my face. I opened my eyes to him smiling at me.

"Intense?" He asked, I could only nod.

After a few moments of basking in Peter's borrowed glow, I began to itch, my mind turned back on. How could I have crossed that boundary, when you have sex with someone, you are having sex with everyone you both have. Peter had done so many things with so many people, how would I be different? How could I deal with knowing I was probably in the triple digits just from touching him?

"Peter?" I asked. He propped himself up on an elbow to look down on me. "What are we doing?"

"I'm loving you." He smiled, "what do you think? I want you to feel better than you ever have. Did I succeed." He looked so happy.

"Love isn't just sex you know." He nodded. I rubbed my nails up and down my arms, trying not to think. The skin began to redden. I didn't stop.

"I know, it's just a way to show it. And it's fun." I sat up to look at him easier.

"Peter." He seemed to suddenly understand.

"You can't leave after that. You have to stay, at least think about it, I can be better, I would be faithful to you, I love you more than anything." He gripped my hands. I pulled it away gently. And went back to scratching. I had to distract myself. It had been so long since I had an attack. I had forgotten how to stop one.

"What about Marc?" Peter's brow clenched.

"I didn't think about that, but he will be okay." Peter sat up too. "All that matters is that you are here with me now. I want to teach you everything, let you feel everything." Everything he had done with others. I felt dirtier, thinking of all the places his mouth had been, how many germs there could be. I shivered for a completely different reason.

"I need a minute." I went into the bathroom and set up a shower. I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste, and began to brush. I shouldn't have started, now I couldn't stop.

**

"Jax? Jax, you've been in there for 20 minutes, isn't the water getting cold." It was, but I wasn't clean yet. The toothbrush was still in my mouth and I was working on the 7th round of body wash, I still didn't feel completely clean. I rinsed my mouth out with the lukewarm shower water and spit pink blood tinted foam down the drain. My gum's may have been bleeding, but my teeth still weren't clean.

"Almost done." Just a few more rinses.

The doorknob turned, the shower door was glass and there Peter was, dressed only in a pair of tight dark blue briefs. I could see he was still hard. I grabbed the soap, time for another rinse. "Jackson, stop." He took a step toward me.

"Stop!" the toothbrush almost dropped out of my mouth, I held the sponge up like a shield. I was glad the shower doors were still steamy, I didn't want him to see me naked.

"Jackson, your panicking. You just need to stop." I shook my head frantically. I wasn't panicking, I just couldn't get clean.

I screamed when Peter opened the shower door and turned off the water, a bit of bloody saliva dripped to the soapy shower floor.

Peter held out a clean white towel, I couldn't help picturing all the things it may have wiped up. I imagined germs hiding in the soft white weave, little sperm cells just waiting to dirty my skin. I choked on a sob.

"It's not clean." I fumbled for the water to turn it back on.

Peter left the tiny bathroom and I sobbed harder, icy water fell on me, and I upturned the nearly empty body was container over the sponge and began washing again.

The skin under my fingernails was turning purplish when Peter returned, with him was a medic from student services. My heart began to pound. My mom often threatened to send me to treatment, but she would never do it, the school might. My throat threatened to close.

"I'm not crazy." Great way to start, that was what the crazy people said, "It's just not clean, and the towel is dirty and-" The medic pulled a clean towel from a plastic wrapping and held it out to me.

"No one thinks you are crazy sweetie," she said. "We just don't want you getting too cold in the shower." I took the towel from her hands, happy to see the gloves covering her hands. "That's it, time to get you tucked in."

**

Ten minutes later I was tucked into bed, with clean sheets, with a hot cup of tea and two Xanax. I was still shivering, and still didn't feel quite clean, but much better than before. Once she was certain I wasn't going to do anything stupid, and making Peter promise to watch me, the medic left.

"You should see your psychiatrist to talk about this." She had told me before leaving. "The school can't do anything unless you ask for help, but you should talk to someone." I had nodded, relieved that this wasn't going on some record.

"I made her promise." Peter whispered after she shut the door. "That nothing would happen to you. I know you don't want anyone to know." I nodded and held my cup tighter. I tried to not think of all the germs on Peter's skin, but I couldn't help it.

"Maybe you should shower?" I whispered, not wanting to offend. With a shake of his head, Peter went to take his very first cold shower.

**

"I didn't think this would happen, I didn't think." Peter was wrapped in a bathrobe with a towel on his head. He perched on the very edge of my bed. "I just wanted you to feel what I do."

I nodded, it had been years since I had had an attack. Peter had talked me out of a few.

"I know, I didn't think either." I tried not to think about attacks at all, if I though about it too long I began to think of the germs, so thinking about them was almost a sure way to have one.

"Maybe we could try in the shower." Peter smiled trying to make his words into a joke, but I knew he was at least partly serious, I hadn't reciprocated, and Peter was notoriously bad at self restraint- he was probably hurting by now.

"How do you know this is even a good idea? I mean, I don't think I'll ever be able to-' I gestured vaguely toward his crotch, "and you-"

"We can work it out, plus there are lots of really clean things we could do." I didn't want to think about it anymore. Or all the "clean" thing Peter had probably tried. I was getting unbearably sleepy, and I had to brush my teeth after the sugary tea. I slipped off the bed, tiptoeing to avoid touching too much of the ground.

Peter trailed me to the bathroom. I imagined him as a golden retriever puppy and laughed, it was perfect. So sweet, so loyal, so eager to please and yet so misguided.

"Peter I am trying to tell you, I can't do this right now. I have to think. Not for five minutes, not for a night. I really don't know if I can do this with anyone, never mind my best, only, friend."

"Oh" Peter whispered and retreated from the bathroom. "I think I understand."