What’s Mine Is Yours
by Alex Exley
Copyright © 2011 Alex Exley and Humburger Publishing, Inc.
Smashwords edition.
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Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Also available by Alex Exley: Tales of Love & Lust, a collection of stories featuring over 56,000 words of exquisite erotica for only $2.99.
Feel free to contact the author at thehumburger@yahoo.com with any comments or questions. And ratings and reviews are always appreciated.
What’s Mine Is Yours
I’ve always been an empathetic person. I volunteer at a homeless shelter because my heart goes out to people in need. I support animals’ rights because I believe they feel pain, just like humans. And I like to watch my girlfriend get fucked.
Perhaps that last one needs some explanation.
I’d been seeing Laura for about a year. It was an on-again, off-again relationship. Nothing too serious. She was the one that wanted a stronger commitment, but I couldn’t decide what I wanted a week later, let alone commit to whom I’d be with several years down the road.
We were in an off-again stage, me having claimed the need for some time to assess what I really wanted. I suppose she was free to do as she pleased, but it’s hard to think rationally about your girlfriend, even if she’s only kind of your girlfriend. My buddy Remy clued me in on what had happened.
“Dude, they were definitely getting cozy with each other.”
“Getting cozy how?” I asked.
“They were sitting in the corner of the couch with their arms around each other, hands on one another’s lap, that kind of thing. I saw ’em kiss a couple times.”
It took a moment to hit me.
“Amy told me she stayed over his place,” he added.
It hit me. Like a wrecking ball.
Chad Burgman. A guy I knew only peripherally, but whose name now caused the pit of my stomach to fill with seething black bile. I tried to think logically. After all, we were taking a brief hiatus—she could see someone else if she chose. But it was impossible to think about it that way. Knowing she had been intimate with another guy made me burn with thoughts of betrayal.
I called Laura shortly after talking to Remy, but she didn’t answer. I knew she was at class and went to meet her when it got out.
“Did you do anything Saturday?” I asked casually as we walked down the sidewalk.
“Went to a party with Amy and Lynn. It was okay, nothing too great.”
“Was Chad Burgman there?”
She acted like she had to think about it. “Ah, yeah.”
“Ah, yeah? You’re not sure? You were making out with him in front of everyone but you’re not sure? What else did you do with him?” She didn’t answer. “Did you stay over his place?”
“Jason…”
“Did you?”
She tilted her head and looked at me like an adult looks at a child caught in a lie. Like I was the one doing something wrong.
“I can’t believe it. We’re apart, what, not even three weeks, and you hook up with someone else. What did you do with him? Did you have sex with him?” Her eyes were fixed straight ahead. I knew what that meant. “You had sex with him. You fucking had sex with him. I can’t believe you fucked another guy.” I became more angry and used some choice words that prompted her to tell me, in a tone that garnered a few concerned looks from passersby, to get the hell away from her and talk to her when I could act like an adult.
I gave it a couple days while I thought everything over and tried to settle down. When I called her again, it started off civilly, though there was an obvious difference of opinion about the circumstances of the situation.
“You’re the one that wanted to break up with me,” she said, “and now you’re mad that I was with someone else?”
“We never broke up. I just said I needed a little time apart. That didn’t mean we were through.”
“You didn’t want to be with me, Jason. How do you think that made me feel? And yet I’m supposed to wait for you hoping you change your mind?”
“You’re not supposed to go sleeping around.”
“I wasn’t sleeping around. It was one guy, and he’s a nice guy.”
“He’s a nice guy? How long have you thought he’s a nice guy?”
“I don’t know. He was in one of my classes last semester. What does it matter?”
“Did you sleep with him before we split up? Even though we never really split up.”
“No.”
“When did you decide to sleep with him? At the party? Or had you started something before?”
“Why are you—”
“Did he ask you to go back to his place, or was it your idea?”
“Why are you asking these things? What does it matter?”
I wasn’t sure, but for some reason it did matter. For some reason I wanted to know what happened. They probably hung out a few times before that night. Chad would have been dizzy with excitement over the prospect of fooling around with Laura. And she probably felt titillated by the advances of another guy. I could see her listening to his stories, laughing at his jokes. Crossing the threshold from flirtation to physical contact. I pictured them on the couch at the party, touching and kissing. The feelings it must have stirred inside them.
“Look,” Laura said. “It didn’t mean anything. I like you. I like you a lot. If you want to try to get back together, I’d like that. But I do have a right to live my own life if you don’t want to be with me. If you can’t deal with that then forget it. We should just go our separate ways.”
Even after I’d said I needed a little time apart, I still felt, in the back of my mind, that I could go back to Laura at any time, that she’d still be there if I wanted. Now that she’d been with someone else, the prospect of losing her for good became all too real. That made me realize I didn’t want to lose her. And I told her so. I told her it made me jealous because I wanted to be with her.