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Despite having been friends for years, it’s only the early days of their relationship and the pair are still finding their feet. “Tomboy-butch who’s one of the guys” was a role Alex played so well before she and Aleksa moved in together. Before she found herself smiling a little too much at his compliments. Before he’d started properly complimenting her.
Fucking made things simpler.
In some ways it didn’t. Friends, especially guy friends (which they were, on a technicality), hardly tell each other everything. It was a challenge to bridge the gap between what they say to each other in the group of guys they hang out with, compared to within their relationship. As Aleksa’s girlfriend though, Alex feels she has a right to complain when she wants. And when her uterus feels like it’s wringing itself out like a sponge through her back, she wants to complain.
Short on words, she lets out a frustrated sigh as she walks into the kitchen. Aleksa is cooking dinner for the two of them.
“Ughhhhh,” she groans in the absence of a response to her first sigh. “It’s shit.”
“You haven’t even had it yet,” Aleksa says, stupid big blue eyes looking at the food he’s preparing.
“Not your food. I’m sure it’ll be nice. You’re great at all that shit.”
Aleksa pauses stirring whatever it is bubbling away in the pot and turns to look up at Alex. “What’s wrong?”
Alex feels at least some of the frustration seep out of her at the question, the opportunity to vent out her frustrations.
“I’ve just got my period and my cramps are hell and it’s just pissing me off.”
She finishes her sentence with a heavy sigh and lets her shoulders sag, leaning her head on Aleksa’s shoulder. He takes it in stride, wrapping his hands around her waist. He finds the tight muscles of her lower back and gently presses the heels of his hands into them. When Alex moans, he takes the encouragement to continue and works his way through the knots of her back. The soft skin of Alex’s neck invites him to press chaste kisses and whisper comforting words at her.
“You’re too nice,” she mumbles into his shoulder.
Aleksa shakes his head. “You’re fine. Tell me what I can do to help.”
Aleksa is helping a little, and she can’t really be bothered to do more than sigh, Aleksa’s warm solid hands against her.
He continues moving his hands against her back. “I can give you a proper massage if you want.”
Alex’s chin digs into his shoulder with how she nods at the offer. Aleksa laughs as he disentangles the two of them, turning off the stove before grabbing at Alex’s arse through her trackie shorts. She feigns offence and darts from his reach to the bedroom.
She covers the sheets with a dark towel before ridding herself of her T-shirt and plopping facedown on the bed. Aleksa settles behind her, knees bracketing her thighs.
“So it’s your lower back giving you the most grief?”
Alex nods, not looking up, offering a slight grunt of agreement.
Aleksa takes the hint and doesn’t attempt any further conversation. He makes a few remarks to himself as he works his hands up and down Alex’s spine. When he catches a response, a groan of pleasure or pain, he lets that guide his focus. Gradually, the muscles of Alex’s back soften under Aleksa’s hands, her noises making clear that she’s enjoying the treatment.
He shifts back to focus on the lowest part of her back. As Aleksa focuses his attention on her hips, grunts turn to whimpers. Alex’s back is painless, feeling as if she could do anything, by the time Aleksa wraps up.
“That’s better now?” he asks.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
Alex rolls over onto her back. She stretches her arms over her head and relishes in how much more relaxed her muscles feel. Aleksa keeps his eyes on her face, not wanting to be told off for admiring her (admittedly beautiful) tits.
“Come on babe,” she laughs. “I know you love them.”
Aleksa shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to be heckling you about sex while you’ve got your period.”
“That’s what makes it worse,” Alex says. She covers her face with her hands and groans, fighting for words. “I’m so fucking horny now but it’s just gross and as soon as I start doing anything the gross outweighs the horny and I give up.”
Silence falls for just long enough to have Alex worrying that she’s said the wrong thing. She shifts her hands from her face to look at Aleksa. From the slight wonder and concern in his eyes, she doesn’t know what he’s thinking.
“I mean, I could help.” He speaks slowly, in almost the same tone of voice he uses when trying to convince Alex of a video idea. He doesn’t want to scare her off, but earnestly wants her as interested in it as he is. “If you - if you want.”
The offer hangs in the air only briefly before Alex snatches it.
She shuffles out of her shorts, leaving her period undies on and arse safely sat on the towel. She pats the bed, inviting Aleksa to sit beside her. He obeys and wraps his arms around her, letting her rest her head on his chest.
Aleksa’s pale hands contrast against Alex’s tan arms he traces, making his way up to her shoulders and breasts. They’re not much more than a handful, but he doesn’t mind, bringing her brown nipples up to attention with strokes and pinches. Alex works not to squirm in his grasp or tell him to hurry up, wanting to luxuriate in his affections. The arousal that builds is enough to distract her from the sensation of blood between her legs and she lets her eyes drift shut as Aleksa’s hand reaches the waistband of her underwear.
It’s an effort to quash the part of her brain reminding her how gross this is, how Aleksa almost certainly doesn’t want to do this, that she should pack it in and tell him to leave, but she resists. Aleksa is deliberate with his touch, gentle in finding Alex’s clit but firm and unrelenting. His fingers dip lower and Alex can’t help but lean into it with her hips.
Her breath catches as he teases at her entrance. She’s wet, and his playing with her tits has her caring less and less about the blood.
“Come on, get a move on,” she begs.
Aleksa laughs and shifts, sitting upright to improve his angle. He pinches her nipple, pulling near to the point of pain, but it just makes her pulse rush in her cunt. Before Alex can whine or complain again, he has two fingers inside her, scissoring her open. Her hips rut up into his hand, seeking stimulation to her clit. Being on her period makes her horny in a way that knocks her around like nothing else. Already she can feel her heart racing, Aleksa earning gasps and moans with every movement of his hand, especially when his thumb finds her clit.
“Alex,” he says. “You’re so pretty like this, here, let me help.”
He moves to kneel between her legs. With two hands now free to access her cunt, he slips another finger inside and uses his other hand to lavish attention on her clit. Staccato moans escape Alex’s mouth and the muscles of her abdomen tighten as her climax approaches.
Alex lets one of her arms fall across her face. All that Aleksa has to say is lost in the rhythm of his hands on her, in her, and she tightens around him as her orgasm hits. The pain in her back, her cramps, it’s all gone as her vision goes white and waves of pleasure roll through her.
It takes her a moment to catch her breath, to realise that Aleksa has removed his fingers. She glances up to find him still kneeling in front of her, his fingers in his mouth. It’s primal and restrained at the same time, the way he is carefully cleaning them of her blood. Alex’s heart skips a beat and the sight sends blood throbbing to her cunt.
As soon as Aleksa realises he has an audience, he at least has the decency to look appropriately mortified.
“I’m so sorry Alex,” he stammers, but all Alex sees is her blood on his lip, and what remains on his fingers. “I didn’t want to be weird about it, it’s just, it’s really hot okay, I just –”
Alex shakes her head and takes a breath, considering her options. It doesn’t take much consideration.
“Fuck it,” she says. “Wanna just cut out the middle man and eat me out?”
Aleksa’s rambling is interrupted and his lips form a tight seal as his eyes widen. He looks at her for a beat, waiting for her to retract the offer. When no such retraction comes, he nods, eyes still huge.
She gestures for him to take off his T-shirt, which he rapidly obeys. Alex frees herself of her remaining clothes, lifting her arse off the bed for a moment to slide her underwear down her legs.
Her underwear is barely off her before Aleksa all but leaps in. He’s taken his shirt off and has his mouth on her pussy like a starving man. Still sensitive from her orgasm, Alex twitches and ruts into his mouth when he sucks on her clit, tracing it with the tip of his tongue. Alex is out of breath by the time he moves to her hole. Aleksa grabs her by the hips, arms wrapped around her thighs to drag her down the bed to his mouth. Every touch of tongue and lips sets her nerves alight as he teases her entrance.
The afterglow of her past climax has her still twitching, and she feels the telltale tightening in her pelvis of another gush of blood. She’s ready for Aleksa to be grossed out, to apologise and back off and they can leave it at that. It seems, however, that he isn’t bothered. Far from, as Alex worries for a moment only to feel Aleksa moan into her cunt, his tongue working in broad strokes that span from her pussy to her clit.
Alex gives up trying to grab at the sheets instead of Aleksa’s hair as his tongue enters her. It’s hard to tell whether he’s moaning at the taste of her or the yank on his scalp. Either way, he doesn’t let it distract him and redoubles his efforts to draw as much sound out of Alex as possible.
“You taste so good,” Aleksa murmurs into her thigh. “You’re such a delight.”
“Please, Aleksa – ’leksa, I need more.”
Unable to resist any longer, she wraps her thighs tight around Aleksa’s head, feet locking behind his back to pull him in. She glances down at him to confirm he’s okay and is met with the sight of his eyes closed in bliss, mouth wet from his own spit and her pussy, blood covering him chin to nose.
“Fuck, you’re a mess,” she says.
Aleksa opens his eyes to glance up at her, and she can see hairs of his moustache stuck together with her blood. His mouth hangs open, desperate, and his hands dig into the lean muscle of her thighs. The sounds he’s making are unbelievable, wet slurps and sucks that lubricate the movement of his mouth on her. Vibrations from his moans travel through her, and he’s breathy and eager with an enthusiasm for eating pussy that Alex has only ever seen in him.
The smear of blood and spit and other fluids grows on his face as the chance of finding it gross or reprehensible shrinks in Alex. All she can do is exist in the pleasure and how completely Aleksa has abandoned any semblance of restraint. He whines as though he’s the one getting sucked off and eaten out and reassured of his attractiveness all at the same time instead of Alex.
She’s coming closer and closer to another climax. The muscles of her thighs tighten and her abs clench as her clit throbs in Aleksa’s mouth. She grips his hair tight and is grateful for the both of them that her nails aren’t long enough to do any damage. Her orgasm hits and for a moment she sees white.
Aleksa whimpers into her and gives soft, wide licks to work her through it. Every muscle in her body seems to be shaking, contracting and relaxing as oxytocin rushes her system. Aleksa is rubbing circles into her hip with his thumb as she returns to reality. They’re both panting, breaths just out of sync with each other.
She looks down at him and it’s like a crime scene. His eyes are closed and his breath is hot against her thigh, resting on her like a pillow. Blood has managed to get all over his face, small clots in his moustache and and mixing with saliva to drip down his chin.
“Jesus Christ.” Alex breaks the silence. “That was insane.”
Aleksa nods and mumbles an agreement into her leg. She tuts and adjusts to sit up, disrupting him enough to make him sit upright as well.
“Hope it helps,” he offers weakly.
Alex laughs. “If nothing else, it’s given me some pain relief.”
A glance down has her noticing that Aleksa is still in his shorts.
“You didn’t want to, I mean, I don’t wanna fuck right now, but a bit of hand stuff?” she offers.
Though hard to tell through the blood on his face, a blush seems to rise to Aleksa’s cheeks. “It’s okay. I mean … I don’t need … I’m okay.”
Realisation dawns on Alex. “You shot off in your dacks didn’t you?”
Aleksa takes a beat to form his response, but the silence is confirmation enough.
“Like a fucking teenager.”
“I take offence to that,” Aleksa says. “Teenagers don’t cum from eating out their girlfriends. How many times has a guy even managed to make you cum from eating you out, huh?”
He puts his hands on his hips, a smear of blood adding to the mess that hopefully a spin in the washing machine will be able to clear his shorts of.
“You’re such a gentleman.”
“Exactly.” He’s grinning again, teeth white against the pink of his lips and blood smeared on his face. “And you’re a delight.”
Aleksa leans towards her, eyes looking at her lips, but Alex pulls back.
“Ew, no, wash your face before you kiss me.”
Aleksa sighs but doesn’t argue. “Fine,” he says, the smirk on his lips showing he’s not too insulted by it.
He swings his legs off the bed, ducking his head into the corridor to confirm safe passage before making a dash for the bathroom. Alex pulls her undies back on and grabs the towel off the bed before following him. Once in the bathroom, she discards them, standing on the bath mat as the water heats.
A glance at Aleksa shows that the mirror has his full attention. She can’t blame him – he looks a complete mess, blood smeared from chin to forehead somehow, and he seems hypnotised by it.
“Stop checking yourself out,” she scolds, and Aleksa starts.
“Sorry, I mean, I’m checking you out too in a way.” He grins and splashes water and soap – yes, hand soap – on his face until the better part of the blood is gone. “Good enough?”
Alex shrugs and answers with a press of her lips against his. It’s lazy and relaxed, and she wraps her arms around his waist to hold him close as their lips meet again and again.