Aubrey (Revolving With Axis)

113: Aubrey

Aubrey

There were some things you just didn't talk about, with anyone.

I sat on the beach chairs in the cold dawn breeze and wrapped the blanket around my shoulders. My feet were freezing. The fire was dead, and the other beach chairs that had been left out here had blown over.

I felt odd inside.

Kind of shivery and scared, for no reason. I understood masturbation, I also understood waking up from a wet dream if that's what had happened, but from the look on his face, it wasn't that.

I crossed my arms over my chest, holding the blanket close, and felt the tingling irritation on my right breast.

There had been more to it than masturbation. The thought behind it--- was me.

I felt strange. Knowing. Altered. Like I'd discovered something I wasn't supposed to. Like Santa Claus wasn't real... except it wasn't that. I wasn't let down. I'd discovered that Superman was only human after all. No--- he was still Superman. It wasn't that, exactly. It was like walking in on somebody having sex.

I wondered what other women felt when they caught their guy jacking off. Or did they catch them? I pictured kids mostly, younger guys. But of course--- Rafe didn't do this very often, because he would have had a woman. I wasn't able to give him what he needed. Isn't that what he'd revealed? I. Need. You.

And instantly, I felt .... Bad. Like I was responsible. Like I should have.... Been there for him. Like I should have....

I don't know.

And like I said. There was no one to talk to.

There were just some things you didn't talk about.

I wouldn't bring it up. It was none of my business. It was one of those things that just happens.

Rafe came out the door, his pale eyes caught the sun's rays, and flashed white hot as he spotted me. I wasn't sure what to do. Look away? Pretend nothing happened? Yes.

"Aubrey." He was wearing black basketball shorts and nothing else. His hair was still wet from his shower, and his nipples were taut---- as were mine.

I didn't want to look at him, but I forced myself to. It was time to pretend. He sat down next to me, on the sand, and rubbed my knee. I shuddered. So much for pretending.

"A little much for your virginal complexion?"

"My what?"

"That wasn't exactly planned."

"It's okay." I did not need to talk about it. Did he? He had a fistful of sand and let it out on my leg.

Drew in his breath sharply. "It's a scientific fact that if guys don't whack it now and then--- like at least once a day--- they will die."

This was said as a joke, one he was hoping even I--- the virgin queen--- would know. I did. I rolled my eyes and looked out at the waves. He was trying on his best grin.

"You know, they say that when you wake up and your man is jerking off, you're only mad because he didn't include you."

"It has nothing to do with me. We don't have to talk about it."

"Whew. Seriously?"

"What?" My eyes snapped back to his.

"Testy are we?"

"Rafe. Just stop."

"I guess, I need to know how you feel about it."

"I would suppose you consider it a natural phenomenon?"

"Like it should be. All guys do it. It doesn't mean I don't love you, or won't be satisfied when we eventually do get to have sex."

"You're having sex with who when you do it? You fantasize about...?"

"You... I swear, that was all you, babe, and ----."

My mouth screwed up by itself into an oh, and I bit my lips, hard. I don't know how I feel about being the object of his sexual fantasy--- except I'm a doctor. I should have at least figured he'd be fantasizing about me.

"You know guys need it more, right? For girls it's like a small atomic bomb--- you can't savor more than one in consecutive waves, right? But for guys, it's like a roman candle, and you--- well, you buy those in six packs on the 4th of July. You gotta do it more than once."

I was shocked, and literally pictured myself covering my ears. Even in med school when jokes were rampant, this kind of talk hadn't come up. I was face to face with my virginity. And he was making light of things. Blowing it off, as no big deal.

Fine then.

I wasn't going to continue encouraging him.

"Aubrey." He gripped both of my knees, forcing me to look at him. "I'm not apologizing, exactly. Except that it was --- involving you."

I let my head drop back.

"Aubrey--- be a big girl now." His voice and tone was wheedling, knowing, making fun of me a little.

"Ah, don't do that." I said. "You're the one covering up your discomfiture by making it common and ordinary. If it really was, and you believed that, you wouldn't be covering it with your --- whatever it is you're doing. Embarrassment."

"Is this the church, or the doctor? Or Aubrey?"

"It's --- nothing." I said. "I hadn't ever thought about it. I hadn't ever expected it. I've never considered it, and never----."

"You've never done it?"

"No!"

"Really?" He was grinning like an idiot, and I was red in the face.

"Rafe. Let's not have this conversation. There is one part of marriage you're really going to like. Once married, everyone else, including church and family are out of the marriage bed. We can talk about it then....I just feel like--- I can't talk about it now."

He leaned up to stare into my eyes. His were very confident, very calm. "Okay. Then let me at least say this. I'm sorry it happened the way it did. And you're right, I don't really want to talk about it now, maybe ever."

"Okay." I was relieved and looked one more time into his sincere eyes before starting to turn them out to sea.

But I caught that glint, as he struggled not to laugh. My eyes snapped back to his. He had to bow his head, and his hands on my legs squeezed. "Baby, you've never had an orgasm?"

"Stop it, Rafe!"

Now he hooted quietly, on a puff of air. He made it seem impossible. He made it seem ridiculous. He made me feel dysfunctional.

"I just can't believe it."

I couldn't answer that. He was being ridiculous, and impossible and dysfunctional. This was all backwards. He bounced on his heels, staring at me.... I hope not to see if I was kidding. He had to know I was serious.

He did. His expression turned gentle and kind, that very sweet tenderness I had seen a few times when he actually was moved. He didn't do it often.

He leaned in for a kiss, and I backed up. I did not want to kiss him. Not right now. The thought made me want to--- I don't know--- kiss him. I leaned into him and pressed my lips to his, no tongue, just the kiss. It could have ended nicely right there. It was adequate. Comfortable, apologetic. I needed that. But he pulled me off the chair and we tumbled slightly onto the sand.

*******