BHM Preference

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ALS Again

Well-Known Member
Sep 22, 2016
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States
~BHM, Magic, WG

“I’m gonna grab some Coke Zero,” Alexi mumbled, stalking away from his girlfriend. He wandered down the grocery store aisles, his tall form slightly slouched and his hands in his pockets. A few moments later, his eyes fell upon several cases of Coke Zero that were awaiting to be bought. Bending down, he grasped a case and stood, slightly cracking his back as he did so. Leaning against grocery shelves, he sighed. I need to let her go, he thought resignedly, a wave of sadness coursing through him. When it’s over, it’s over.

His calves ached dully, a constant throb of pain shooting through his legs. That run left its mark on me, he mused, reminding himself that tomorrow was another long run day. Perfect. I’ll just break up with her tonight, go on a run tomorrow, burn away some of the stress and pain, and I’ll be on my way to recovery . . . Somehow, his plan failed to convince his heart or his mind.

“Might as well get back,” he said softly to himself. As he headed back toward Sara, his girlfriend, Alexi’s mind warred with itself. It’s not that easy. I love her--I can’t just break up with her, go on a run, and magically emerge healed and without baggage. There has to be a way to fix this . . .

“Hey,” Sara mumbled as Alexi returned to her side. She eyed him with uncertainty, as though he could not be trusted. Alexi inwardly rolled his eyes and loaded the soda onto the shopping cart’s bottom.

“Ready to check out?” Alexi asked, mustering the most positive voice he could manage. I’m going to fix this, I’m going to fix this, I’m going to fix this.

“Yep,” Sara answered, rolling the cart toward a cash register line. Still, she refused to make eye contact with Alexi.

I should never have brought up the physical attraction thing, Alexi lamented, feeling stupid and boorish for ever having addressed the subject. He silently loaded groceries into the shopping cart while Sara paid. Maybe I can just apologize and . . .and . .. everything will be . .. His thoughts trailed off. This issue was deep--too deep to be filled merely by an apology. I need to talk to her, and we need to figure this out. Physical attraction is important. If it isn’t there, it isn’t there. She needs to tell me, though.

The couple walked from the store to Alexi’s car in silence, each one seemingly attempting to avoid the other. Once the groceries were loaded and the shopping cart returned, Sara climbed into the car’s passenger side, shutting the door with a soft thud. Alexi leaned against the driver side for a moment, pressing his head to the cool metal. Sighing, he opened the car door and dropped himself tiredly into the seat. “Look, Sara, I know that the car isn’t the greatest place to talk about this, but . . .I can’t wait any longer. I really think that we need to talk about earlier . . .”

Sara visibly stiffened. “Which particular part?” she asked, facing away from her boyfriend.

Alexi sighed. “The part where you mentioned that I wasn’t your . . . ‘type.’”

Still turned away, Sara answered gruffly, “It was a stupid comment. I didn’t mean anything by it, and let’s just drop it, okay? You know that I love you.”

“Come on, Sara. You said that the sex was terrible. We’ve been dating for over a year. If we’re going to make this work, I need for you to be honest with me. And, if there isn’t any way to fix this, then you could at least tell me the truth!”

Sara sighed, biting her lip. “Okay. The truth is that I love you, but, you’re not physically ‘turning me on.’”

Alexi was aghast. “Why not?!”

“Um, well . . .” Sara trailed off for a moment. “Look: I like fat guys, okay? You aren’t fat. You’re the exact opposite of fat. I’m sorry if I seem shallow, but, I’m finally being honest. Physical attraction is important, right?”

Dumbfounded, Alexi stuttered, “What the fuck do you want me to do? I can’t gain weight. I’ve tried in the past, and my metabolism just killed all of my attempts.” Why has she been dating me if she has constantly wanted me fat?

“I’m being a shallow bitch,” Sara stated matter-of-factly. “I just can’t change how I feel.”

“Why the fuck did you date me for so long?” Alexi demanded, feeling his anger and frustration increase. “Why did you stay with me if you hated the way that I look?”

“I don’t hate your appearance,” Sara insisted, sighing. “I just realized that I like . . .fat guys.”

“You know, you’re a pretty shitty person sometimes,” Alexi spat, feeling disgusted.

Sara’s eyes narrowed, as she countered, “Who are you to judge me? As if you don’t have certain physical preferences. I’m sure that you wouldn’t stay with me if I didn’t look a certain way.”

He pursed his lips, acknowledging that, on some level, she was correct.

Calming a bit, he softly asked, “What do you want to do about all of this?” He raked his fingers through his unruly dark hair, wondering in what way these events would end.

“I don’t know!” Sara exclaimed suddenly, tears in her eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

Alexi put his head in his hands, before mumbling, “I don’t know. You make me feel used, like an old model.”

Sara suddenly put her arm on Alexi’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “It isn’t like that, Lex,” she insisted. “I do love you. We’re just going to have to figure out this sex thing . . .to try to make things more . . .’alive.’”

Alexi remained silent, moving only to shift the car into drive and begin the trip back to the apartment that he and Sara shared. When the pair arrived at home, they unloaded their groceries, neither person speaking. After they finished, Alexi said, “I’m going out for a while. I need some time to think about . . .all of this.”

ALS Again

Well-Known Member
Sep 22, 2016
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States
Alexi stormed out of the apartment, the keys in his hands loudly jingling. He headed to his car, unlocked the vehicle, and flung open the car door. At the moment, he could care less where he drove. He simply needed to drive, away from the apartment, away from his girlfriend, away from her infuriating preference. Why is she still with me? Alexi thought, inserting the car key into the ignition and setting the vehicle into motion. I can’t give her what she wants, and she’s obviously not attracted to me.

So, he began to drive. Soon, the apartment was relatively far behind, and Alexi’s thoughts turned toward finding a possible solution to his predicament. He left behind the suburb in which he lived and crossed into city boundaries. The bright lights of monolithic buildings greeted the young man as he headed toward the artsy and cultural side of the city.

Entering into the Cultural District, Alexi searched for and soon found a parking garage. He grabbed his ticket from the garage machine and soon found a parking space. Stepping out into the cool fall air, Alexi shivered, pulling his jacket more closely around himself. He had no idea of where he was going. He knew only that he enjoyed this side of town, and that he might find a solution or, at least, some solace in one of the area’s many bars.

Walking down the street, he soon found himself absorbed into the vibrant nightlife of the Cultural District. College kids, romantic couples, shop perusers, street musicians, and more filled the space around Alexi as he moved further into the crowd. As he walked, a business sign caught his attention: The True Bar. The sign was old and worn, and the building’s wooden exterior was scratched and weathered.

“What the fuck is the True Bar?” Alexi wondered, mumbling to himself. Skeptical of the bar’s legitimacy, Alexi still decided to venture into the questionable establishment. A drink might be good right about now, he thought.

True to the building’s exterior, the inside of the bar proved to be dilapidated and old. Much like a typical dive bar, the business featured a small, worn bar counter, an old pool table, and the inside of the bar smelled strongly of smoke, sex, and whiskey.

Upon entering the establishment, Alexi’s nose crinkled in disgust from the interior area’s musty smell. The young man looked about the room and found that he was the only bar patron. “Hello?” he called after waiting a few minutes. Is the place closed? He wondered, considering possibly leaving the bar.

The sound of clinking glass bottles answered Alexi, as a man carrying several beer mugs appeared from behind the bar counter. “Hello there,” the man said, his voice soft and smooth. “How may I help you?” The bartender set the glasses on the bar table and leaned against the smooth wood, his face bearing a kind expression as he waited for Alexi to respond. The white-haired man seemed as though he could wait patiently for an eternity.

“Uh, I was just stopping in,” Alexi stuttered, a little unnerved by the bartender. “Are you guys still open?”

“We’re always open,” the bartender answered, wiping his forehead with a calloused hand. “The right question is: are YOU open?”

Alexi frowned and raised an eyebrow, wondering what the strange man meant. “Open to what?” he asked, stepping backward toward the bar entrance. Maybe I should leave, he thought.

Ignoring the question, the white-haired man gestured toward the bar counter, replying, “Here, come sit. We have much to discuss.”

Still on edge, Alexi looked back toward the bar entrance, and then turned his eyes toward the bartender. Deciding to stay, the young man moved a few feet toward the bar table and took a seat on a small, wooden stool. “Who are you?” Alexi asked after a few moments, resting a thin hand on the bar counter.

“I have many names,” the bartender answered, wiping the counter with a dish rag. “My name is not so much important as is what I hope to help you with.”

Another cryptic message, Alexi lamented, ignoring the strong urge to pound his head against the counter in frustration.

“What can I get you to drink?” The strange bartender asked, his kind eyes studying Alexi’s form in a very direct manner. His gaze made Alexi feel raw, as though his entire being had been laid bare.

“Eh, how about some whiskey?” Alexi hesitantly asked. This place already smells like it, he thought. Might as well go with it.

The bartender nodded, fiddled with some bottles, and pulled out a bottle that appeared to contain whiskey. He grabbed a glass and poured the brown liquid into the container. “Here you go,” the bartender said, sliding the glass toward Alexi.

Before Alexi could try the drink, the bartender asked, “What do you really want out of life?”

Confused, Alexi responded, “What do you mean?”

“Well, why are you here?” the bartender answered, leaning partially across the counter and looking straight into Alexi’s eyes. “No one enters this place without deeply desiring a life change.”


Tapping a finger against the wooden counter, the bartender seemed as though he had all the time in the world to wait for Alexi’s answer.

“I came because . . .the girl I love is not attracted to me,” Alexi answered, looking sadly down into his glass. “I’m too thin for her.”

“Ah, love problems,” the bartender muttered. “Those are the most common problems I’m asked to solve.” Taking a seat on a stool behind the counter, the bartender said, “Take a drink, and you might find that your problem is no longer an issue.”

Alexi eyed the drink, still skeptical, but thought, What the hell. He lifted the glass to his lips, and the room faded to black.

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