Just His Challenge

"Fuck, Gwen," my boyfriend of two years, William, groans as he pounded into me from behind. My back arched, not from pleasure. I was simply stretching. "Yeah, you like that?"

No.

"Yes! Oh my god," I faked my moans as best as I could despite being filled with boredom and unmet needs.

William and I have been together for a while but we only have had sex a few times before he moved in with me a few weeks ago. His roommate left so he couldn't afford rent at his old place so now he stayed here.

The sex had never been good. I even avoid having it most times which often sparked an argument where he asked 'why' and I came up with some excuse. I just couldn't bring myself to tell him, you know? That conversation is just so awkward. Thank god he had my face lying on a pillow or else he would see it cringe at the thought.

He couldn't keep a good pace and only really cared about his own pleasures. He didn't care to stimulate me. He just pumps, unrhythmically, and dumps. A quick in and out. He wouldn't even eat me out, suck a nipple, or anything. It's like I was a sex doll. However, some people imagined their sex doll was real and would 'pleasure' it, unlike William.

After he finished, he wouldn't ever do aftercare. He either slept or left to do something else. Like what the fuck man? But I found a silver lining. Whenever he was done and doing something else, I got the opportunity to go please myself with a quickie in the bathroom with my rose toy.

Fun and sexy right?

"Shit, I am going to cum!" he growled in my ear, not seductively although you could tell he was trying to.

Wow, he lasted about ten seconds longer than last time! Yay.

"Me too baby," I moaned despite the sarcastic thoughts that ran through my mind. I clenched around him to simulate an orgasm and felt the condom fill with warmth.

He pulled out, panting as he rolled on his back. He wiped the sweat off of his hairline and smiled. "That was amazing," he smiled with his eyes shut. I knew he was about to go to sleep.

Although sometimes I took matters into my own hands, other times I was just too turned off. This was one of those times. And when I went through this, I just wanted to spend with him. Despite the lackluster performance in bed and all the arguing, I still loved him. I still wanted to be held by him.

I looked over and saw his eyes were still closed. I scooted closer and rested my head on his heaving chest.

"What are you doing?" he muttered.

"Cuddling," I answered. What does it look like?

"Baby, not now. I am trying to just relax and rest. I can't do that with you laying on me," he turned. My brows furrowed and I sat up.

"So I am told no to cuddling and expected to just be fine with that? You want me to respect your decision of no aftercare even though you threw a fit because I wasn't in the mood earlier," I stared down at him and shook my head.

"Gwen, are we seriously going to do this right now?" He glared back at me with his disheveled dirty-blonde hair.

"Yes. All I am asking is for my boyfriend to just show he cares about me and to hold me," I said holding the sheets to my chest. "Instead I am told 'get off of me' and get a back turned to me."

"Well, I am sorry that I am just trying to rest before work tomorrow. All I am asking is for an understanding girlfriend who acknowledges my needs," he sneered as he propped up on his forearms. I scoffed and stood to my feet, picking out some fresh clothes. I was already preparing to exit this discussion by escaping to a nice, hot shower.

"I have needs too, William," I sighed.

"And I just fulfilled them," he retorted. I coughed down my laugh, keeping my back turned so he couldn't see the face that said 'yeah right'. "I am the one who actually has a job to do in the morning."

My hands dropped to my side. My shoulder-length, caramel-highlighted hair whipped in front of my face from how fast I turned my head. I practically got whiplash.

Here we go with the job thing. Again.

"Here we go, yet again, with the snooty job comments," I laughed pathetically and went back to rummaging through my side of the closet.

"Babe, your 'job' is more so of a hobby that occasionally gets recognition. You can't blame me for seeing it that way. That's just how it is. Barely anyone is actually successful as a makeup artist," his eyes squinted.

"You do realize you are in my bed, right? You are staying in my apartment because you were the one who couldn't afford to live alone," I seethed.

"You and I both know my place was way better than this dump," he snorted.

"Then leave!" I shouted in anger. Tears welled in my eyes from frustration. It's like whatever I say is never heard. "My job is doing just fine. I literally just started my own business a few months ago when I left the salon. And even with the occupation change, I still haven't broken my budget or needed to ask others to assist with my living situation."

"Gwen, I am not trying to make you feel bad about what you do," he said rushing over to me. His hands rested on my bare shoulders as one rose to wipe the lone tear from my rosy cheek.

"Well, you are," I replied.

"I am just simply making sure you are realistic," he stared down into my green eyes with his grey ones. I looked down at the ground, biting my tongue despite every fiber in my body telling me otherwise. "I am sorry you are upset about what I had to say. How about you go and have a nice relaxing shower, okay? When you get back, we can cuddle if I am awake."

Now we can cuddle? So this fight was started for what? It was like he was just saying that to make himself look better rather than making me feel better.

"Fine," I muttered, blood boiling. He pecked my forehead gently and turned back around to head to bed.

I stood there for a second. He was planning to go back to sleep. My eyes closed as I inhaled a deep emotional breath.

The clothes in my hand were the clothes I took with me to get my shower. The hot water eased my mind as I lathered my soap all over my curvy, sorta chubby frame. Scrubbing away at my skin, I attempted to simultaneously scrub away the negative thoughts and just relax.

After my shower, I walked back to my room and heard William snoring with the lights out. My shoulders fell. My eyes blinked away the tears as they stared up at the ceiling and I bit my lip, turning around and heading to the living room.

"Thank god tomorrow was the start of my work-free weekend," I thought to myself while settling into my dark gray couch cushions with my blanket nuzzled under my chin.

My mind started to ease as I drifted to my subconscious. Eventually, I was sound asleep dreaming soundly.