Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

"Food is almost ready." My mother yells.

And our dinner goes more or less the same. A lot of yelling, not because anyone is upset but because that is the only volume anyone in this family knows how to use. An outsider would think we were arguing every other sentence, when in reality we're just talking about our day. And then my father speaks up about the same thing he always does.

The passion in which he defends his beloved national soccer team would be comical if I didn't know how much it actually affected his mood. As soon as he gets home from work he goes straight to the TV. Watching old games or other games related to the league he's currently obsessing over. I don't waste my time anymore. After being let down and having my day ruined over a loss, I don't care to invest my time in it as an adult.

That means we have little to nothing to talk about. He asks me about work, insinuates that I can still go back to school or work with him and my uncle but I ignore it and ask him about his team. He knows I don't keep up with anything but he still updates me. We both would rather talk about other things than let our night go south in front of my mother. I'm at that age where I'm happy with my life and won't defend my career or my choices to anyone. Plus, I've already upset my mother enough in the past to last a lifetime. Being cordial with my dad is the least I can do. He also has my uncles and cousins who actually do watch games.

"Eat some more." My mom gets up to get me seconds.

"I'm good, Ma." I remove my plate before she takes it. If it were up to her, she would feed me enough to weigh over 300 pounds and keep me trapped here forever.

"It's not like you have some woman to impress." My aunt comments.

"You're too skinny!" My mom exclaims, starting another decade long argument that always gets old.

Ever since I got out of the army, she has become more smothering than before. Not that I ever imagined that was a possibility.

Thankfully my father puts an end to it, telling her I'll eat if I'm hungry.

>>>

If I thought I would never have to see the little vixen ever again, life would be too predictable.

To my detriment, she seeks me out two weeks later at the gym.

Right at 2pm.

"What are you doing?" I step back when she starts to do some suggestive stretches in front of me.

"I'm your two o'clock appointment." She wiggles her pert ass in my face as she bends over.

Her workout gear is an underwater theme this time. Coral pinks and aqua blues. She has her hair up again and the same mischievous look as before.

I look down at my phone and check out my appointments for the day. I already have most of it memorized but I may have overlooked this new one.

"Clare?" I look down at her, still stretching obnoxiously seductively.

I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about her before today. But not in the sense that I usually think about a girl that I find attractive. Sure, there were some instances where I imagined her getting railed by the last guy she was with but the other few times my mind wondered, it was just to imagine where or who she was moving on to next. Not in a sexual way, more of in a curious way. How was her journey? Was she hitting all of the bars she was setting for herself? It is actually more concerning than if I was just thinking about her for sex.

"Yes, nice to meet you, Warren." She stands and sticks her hand out.

I stare at the small peace offering. She has delicate hands. Never once worked hard or physical enough to get scars or calluses. I'm surprised her nails aren't painted by how prim and bratty she behaves.

"This isn't going to work." I turn back to where I came from, knowing she will be following close behind. "I'll have them reassign you to someone more suitable for your needs."

"Wait," She pleads right on my heels. "You don't even know what my needs are."

It is easy to ignore her when I can't see her.

It is much harder to do when she jumps in front of me and invades my personal space. She smells of expensive perfume and baked sweets. I almost growl when she takes another step forward putting her at only a few centimeters away.

"Okay, I'm sorry I came in and caught you off guard." She throws her hands up. "I just, really need your help."

"With what?" I can't believe I'm entertaining her.

"Can we meet up after you get off?" For once she doesn't look straight into my eyes. She focuses on my left ear.

Her persistence leaves me uneasy. What could this girl want to do with me? Not a girl, I remind myself. She may be 6 years younger than me but she's not a child. And she's almost done with school.

"Will you leave me alone then?" I fold my arms. If she's lying, I will know.

She nods hurriedly.

"Okay, let's start with the treadmill." I motion over to the other side of the gym.

"Oh," She looks over at it, not at all impressed with our setup. "I think I'll pass. I will catch you later though."

"No, you won't." I start walking over to the treadmill. "If you want me to come out tonight, you'll stay for your full session."

"But," She bites her lip. She must be used to always getting her way.

"One full hour and then you give me the details of where you want to meet."

She huffs and shakes your head. "Prepare to be disappointed."

<>

And disappointed I was.

But not for the reasons she expected.

To my complete displeasure, she did every single thing I set her out to do. One by one she completed each rep. She did complain some and even asked for alternative workouts but when she realized I wouldn't budge, she just put on her big girl panties and sucked it up. I miserably failed not to look at her slender neck strain under weights or the way her leg would be in a perfectly straight line when she flexed it. Her face was beet red by the time we finished and she was sweating an awful lot. Her breaths were shallow and her chest heaved but she finished them all. I would have felt a lot better if she just quit halfway through and given me a reason to skip this ridiculous meeting.

She walks through the front door of the coffee shop and waves when she sees me. I lift up my black coffee and watch as she walks over to order something for herself. It gives me a moment to look at her. She's changed from her workout getup to some sweats and a school sweatshirt. It looks way too big on her, which means she probably got it from one of the guys she must be seeing. Her hair looks even darker considering it is wet. She's not wearing a hat. Does she know she can catch a cold that way?

After getting her cup, she sits in front of me and gives me a pained smile.

"Am I supposed to feel sore already? It's only been a few hours since you tortured me." She sips on her hot drink.

"Why am I here?" I don't bother with pleasantries.

Sitting here across from her brings up reckless thoughts. This is something I usually do with potential subs. Usually we would meet at The Black Cat and then schedule a time to meet outside of the club and go over expectations. It is during these conversations and talks about boundaries that I determine if they are a good fit for me or vice versa.

So, what am I doing here now?

"I'm going to be completely honest with you." She clears her throat. "As I said before, I made a promise to myself this semester. I will do what I want and with who I want."

I wait for more but she seems to be looking for the right words. I move the mug towards my face, waiting even longer than I care for.

"I still don't understand what that has to do with me." I push.

She gives me an exasperated look. "You are so impatient."

Oh, if only she knew.

"So, growing up I was the nerdy girl that had her head stuck in a book. All throughout high school and practically all of college." She doesn't meet my eyes. Something she has done rarely but now I wonder if that is how she usually is. "Then, something happened and my life started to change. My outlook on a lot of things started to turn upside down. I can't keep being who I was because that isn't who I want to be anymore."

Her clear blue eyes are wide and she's looking at me with trepidation.

When I don't interrupt her, she continues.

"So, here I am. Finally putting my books down and looking at those around me. And I've lost some friends but I want to gain new ones." She holds up a hand when I try to speak. "But do you know the biggest difference I noticed when I finally...stopped to smell the roses?"

I lift a brow, not bothering to speak. If she silences me once more, I won't be able to contain myself. This is the most docile I've been when talked to by another human. Even my mom knows how far to push it before I start pushing back.

"Guys are actually interested in me." She whispers in shock.

I look around the small cafe, wondering if she's being for real.

She is deadly serious though.

"One day, I'm being told I'm a flat chested, loser who will never ever date and the next guys are really looking at me. I mean really looking at me!" The excitement in her eyes is palpable.

She is on the verge of her sexual exploration. On some journey that she wants to go on and fuck whoever comes along the way. Both figurative and literally.

Aside from the initial horrors of her said journey, like STIs, getting pregnant, and even worse- brokenhearted, I still have no clue what this has to do with me. I already told her I wouldn't fuck her. There is no way I would touch a recent virgin even if my life depended on it. When they're too green, they will almost always do whatever is being asked. I'm in no way ready to guide someone through their preferences when it comes to my lifestyle. Not that she will want that anyways. I'm sure if she even caught a whiff of the shit that I'm into she would run for the hills.

"So," She gets my attention again. "I need your help." She takes another sip of my drink. "You look like a guy who has had his fair share of sexual experiences."

"We're not having sex." I remind her.

"That is why you're perfect for this," She sighs in relief. "Honest to God, you are the first guy that I've talked to that isn't trying to get in my pants."

My guilt sizzles in the back of my mind as I blow it out with my thumb. Technically, I haven't really been looking at her the way other guys have. I have wondered how her ass looks as I slapped it with my hand and then with one of my favorite paddles. Or how rosy her breasts turn under my groping and nibbling. Is she a beautiful crier? I'm sure none of these guys have thought that. And, in my defense, these thoughts didn't come to mind until I saw her working out today.

So, no.

I haven't looked at her with the intention of getting in her pants. Initially.

"I need some help. Or honestly, just someone that I can talk to." She hides her hands under the table.

"About what?" Why am I still going along with this?

"About guys." She peeks up at me.

My smile catches me off guard. She even looks taken aback by it.

"You want to talk to me about the guys that you fuck?" My voice is low. The smile turns slightly wolfish.

Her cheeks turn bright. But she nods slightly. "Maybe give me some pointers on the dos and don'ts of having a one-night stand? Or how to really please a guy so he keeps coming back?"

Oh, baby. If you were mine...

My cock turns hard at the thought of punishing her. She is so innocent and so naive. Does she always say whatever comes to mind? My thoughts run wild with ways to put her mouth to use. Maybe then she would be careful with her words. Or maybe she would be smarter with who she shares them with.

I'm no longer smiling. She is getting some concerning emotions out of me. Without even doing anything. Without even realizing it.

"What happened to finding girls your age to talk to? Don't you have friends?" The harshness in my tone is undeserved but it is the best I can do without yelling at her to be smarter.

Her look is sad for a moment. "I told you I lost some friends. And I don't know anyone who would listen to me without judgment."

"How do you know I won't judge you?"

"You're still sitting here, aren't you?" Her sad look is replaced with something close to determination. "I can't explain it but there is something within me. Something that just wants to come out. Something that I don't completely understand and that I can't fathom. Why is it coming out now? I may never know. I just know that no one seems to understand it or even relate to it."

So, she has tried to talk to others about it. And they probably gave her weird looks or disgusted faces. She is asking to sleep around with guys, get some advice, and not be judged for it. She must have had some shitty friends in the past. Having a secret of my own makes it hard not to relate to her. I've been on the other end of some of those looks.

"I will only need you until the semester is over. That is less than four months." She is borderline desperate.

"In all of this, you have failed to mention what I would be getting out of it." I point out. Because at this point, I need a reason not to keep seeing her.

She smiles sweetly. So sweet, that I hold my breath.

"You get me." She states plainly.

Fuck.

I don't want that.

"You get a friend." She amends after seeing my reaction.

>>>

And that is how I end up at a clinic on a Saturday morning.

On my day off.

"I'm such a fucking idiot." She hits the back of her head against the white wall.

My first instinct is to warn her about using curse words but then I remind myself she is not my sub. She can say whatever she wants. It isn't the first time I'm at a clinic accompanying someone. I doubt it will be my last. It is my first time bringing a friend. As she has started calling herself.

"Not a complete idiot." I remind her. "You are on birth control. That is somewhat smart."

"Am I really that naive?" She is still beating herself up about it.

She genuinely believed guys when they told her they were clean. Some even lied and said they had been recently tested. But seeing as she never asked for actual verification, it should be assumed that they could all be walking diseases. She was smart enough to use protection. Just not when it came to oral, which basically rules everything out.

If she gets anything out of this faux friendship, maybe she will learn to be smarter about future sexual encounters.

"Are you clean?" She leans over to ask.

I pull up the results of my exam on my phone and show them to her.

Her eyes widen and then she looks at me from head to toe. "How often do you get tested?"

I know she saw this exam was from not too long ago, after I broke things off with Macy.

Typically, every time I get a new partner, we both get tested. And since we become exclusive, there isn't much need to test as frequently. But definitely after random sexual encounters with strangers. I also got tested while I served, so it is a good habit now. Maybe she will pick it up too.

I don't tell her that though.

"Why do you wear a leather jacket?" She tries to ask instead.

I shrug. "Used to it by now." I follow her gaze down my jeans that are stuffed into my boots.

"You don't look like a personal trainer." Her eyes narrow.

"You know I am." I face forward, brushing my hair to the side.

"Yes, I mean physically I know you can probably do fifty push-ups with me on top."

I shake my head, refusing to imagine anyone on top of anything.

"But outside of the gym you are this whole other person. You're like a bad boy." She has a shit eating grin. She bites her lip. "Like the type that can totally ruin a girl's life after one fuck."

Jesus.

She sure likes that word. And she's trying to get a reaction out of me. I wouldn't be surprised if she wants to be that girl whose life gets ruined. Even in her big sweater and loose jeans, I can imagine how she would look underneath. But I don't. I won't go there. Not with her. When did I turn into the mature guy who wants to save this innocent girl from damnation?

"How many girls have you slept with?" She turns her body towards me, pushing her legs under her.

"How many guys have you slept with?" I counter.

"Five." She smiles proudly.

I bite my smile back. I don't take the spotlight away from her. "I don't keep count."

She gives me a look. "That's such a bullshit answer."

I shrug.

An older woman with scrubs comes out from a side door and calls for Clare.

"I'll be back, hopefully STI free."

I cross my fingers and show her.

>>>

I'm working out at the gym a few days later when I get a text from her.

'I'm clean, baby!' She attaches a gif of a girl doing a jerk off motion and then adds 'time to get back on the field.'

I give her a thumbs up. Good for her. She didn't completely ruin her life like she initially thought.

'All I get is a thumbs up?' I hear the disappointment in her text.

I ignore the text and start doing my reps again.

'Want to meet me at a bar this weekend?' She messages after a few minutes.

I finish my last rep and type a short 'No.'

She is quick to respond. 'You can pick the place if you want.'

I briefly imagine her walking through the front doors of The Black Cat. Her eyes would roll to the back of her head if she saw the naked bodies, the kinky scenes, or even just the way the subs sit at their master's feet.

No, not happening.

'I think this week we should focus on jerking-off.' She sends another gif of a girl getting hot dogs thrown at her face. 'Do you think I can make a guy cum just by jerking him off? Not kissing him or sucking him. Just using my hands?'

Fucking hell.

I walk over to the water fountain and ignore the urge to go home and jerk off. She has such a dirty little mouth. Even if I don't want to have sex with her, I'm still a guy. Does she think I'm immune to any feelings when it comes to sex? Thankfully the blood that would be pumping straight to my dick is being used on my arms, legs, and even cheeks now. This workout is just what I need.

'Watch some videos.' I respond for the sake of not leaving her hanging. I am supposed to be a supportive friend guiding her through this.

'Do you have any recommendations?' She responds seconds later.

All of my kinky saved videos flash before my eyes. Maybe I should show her one so she can be scared straight. I have a pretty good one of a girl crying from all the gagging her dom has her do. All of her mascara runs down her cheeks by the end of it all. Very delectable.

She must not be in class if she has time to text me. But then again, she probably is and she's missing half of her lecture on this silly conversation. She wouldn't be able to sit in on a lecture if she was my sub. Her ass would be covered in small welts. Going to class to miss the whole lecture is a waste of time and money. She should be more appreciative.

Her text goes unanswered.

>>>

"And that is why I think I'll wait to try anal." She grabs a bottle of wine and adds it to her cart.

I push it down the aisle, following her, and hold back my laugh.

She has been less and less shy when it comes to talking about sex. I would like to think that my silence and lack of judgment has helped, but I know it is all her doing. She's gaining confidence when she talks to guys. I've read some of the texts she has shown me between her and whoever she has her eyes on and I'm getting impressed. Anyone who looks at her would think she is a shy little mouse, but I know better.

She's so confident in herself that she has me pushing a cart for her as she does her grocery shopping. Not that I would ever volunteer my time to do something so mundane but she happened to call just as I was leaving work. And she even said she could meet me wherever was more convenient for me. Whether she knows it or not, she is getting me to do things I never would have before.