The Guitar Player And Me

9 - Sometimes it hurts

I had hooked up to my cycler and was sitting on my bed. We had both taken showers, separately, as my tiny shower was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. He sat next to me, running his fingers through my slightly damp hair. That always felt so good. I closed my eyes.

"Does that hurt you?" He asked me, pointing to my cycler.

"What? Dialysis?"

"Yes."

"Sometimes." I answered. "It isn't horrible though. For me at least. When it hurts, it feels like period cramps. I'm not sure how a man would describe the feeling. Some people can't tolerate it. Guess I'm lucky to have a high pain tolerance." I shrugged.

He quirked an eyebrow at me and grinned.

"No!" I started giggling. "That is not what I meant! I don't even like pain."

"Right," he replied, tangling his hand into my hair and gently tugging on it.

I gasped and moaned. Actually moaned. Fuck. This was so weird. Maybe I was weird because I liked it. Well, I knew I was weird already, but never thought I'd be into the whips and chains and hurt-me kind of stuff. I'm just normal, boring me.

"What are you thinking?" he asked me.

"Not sure," I answered.

"You like this?" He tugged my hair again.

"MmmHmm."

"Words?"

"Yes, Brian, I like it."

"Good girl," he said softly. "It makes me happy that you remember how to answer me."

I wondered why it made me shiver when he said stuff like that.

I felt him shift on the bed and lean into me. He kissed my face, then moved down to my neck. I reached up and pulled him into me.

"Do you want to play, Marissa?" he whispered into my ear.

"Yes."

He grabbed a bunch of my hair and pulled me away from him. "How do you answer me?"

Fuck. If I wasn't turned on before, I definitely was now.

"Yes, Brian, I want to play."

"Good girl."