Thyra’s Bubble Buddy

Thyra slumped at her window, staring out into the empty street below.

Another lockdown. Just after she’d moved to a new place, for a new job, that she now wouldn’t be able to start for who knew how long.

Movement caught her eye below. A couple hugging each other. Did they live together? Or were they amongst the lucky ones who had a bubble buddy? Thyra wished she knew someone close enough to be a bubble buddy with. Someone who she had permission to catch up with on a regular basis to protect against the depressing effects of loneliness.

Last lockdown she’d been living at home with her family; a boisterous group of 6 which meant there was little time for peace and quiet, and though at the time she’d missed being able to escape the noise, now she longed for it.

A curtain moved in a window of an apartment across the street, and Thyra glanced up to see a man sitting at his window, also watching the couple below with longing.

Was he lonely, too?

She watched him for a while, but he didn’t glance her way, and in the end she moved away from the window.

She unpacked more boxes, arranging and rearranging furniture to see how she liked it best in her new home.

The place was spotless, so there was nothing to clean, just empty places to fill.

In the middle of the afternoon she went outside for the permissible 1 hour of exercise, walking around her block to familiarise herself with her new location.

There was a string of food places only two blocks away, Chinese, and Indian, and Mexican, and Thai. All her favourites.

She ordered take-away, (of course there was no eating in), and returned to her new home, sitting by the window again to see if anyone else was out and about.

The road below was deserted, streetlights flickering on as dusk set in, dotting the landscape with bright pools.

A light flicked on opposite and she glanced over to see it was the same man who’d been watching the couple earlier.

He glanced up, as though he felt her watching her, and waved.

She waved back.

As the days passed they caught each other’s eyes some more, waving each time. He held up a book he was reading, she laughed and held up hers. The same book.

She saw him head out for a walk alone. Could it be he didn’t have a bubble buddy either?

The next day, she held up a sign. Want to exercise with me today?

The grin that spread across his face gave his answer.

She scrawled on the back. 1pm?

He gave her a thumbs up.

She was nervous. How ridiculous.

But it wasn’t ridiculous. She didn’t know this man from a bar of soap. Maybe he was lonely because he was a psychopath.

They went in for a hug, then pulled away, awkward.

Thyra didn’t normally hug strangers, but something about him felt so… right.

Then again it could just have been the loneliness.

They both laughed nervously, and Thyra took a moment to look at him properly, warm brown eyes the only feature visible above the mask. He introduced himself as Cashel, and they walked the blocks she had been walking alone, and he showed her a small alley which led to a hidden park, right in the centre of the city.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she dipped her hand in the water fountain, and took of her shoes so her feet could feel the grass.

They were the same. Newcomers, come to the city for work, though Cashel had been living here a month longer than Thyra. They’d both thought the pandemic over, despite what was happening in other countries. They’d felt free of it all, expected it would soon disappear everywhere.

This wave had come as a surprise.

They met daily, Cashel showing her the sights.

They ordered takeaway, sat together on a park bench.

Thyra had never connected with anyone the way she connected with Cashel.

“Have you had any symptoms?” she asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “You?”

“No.” She hesitated. “Do you see anyone else?”

He shook his head again. “No.”

“Would you like to come back to my place?”

His gaze flicked over her face. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

Inside he marvelled at how sparse her apartment was, and she laughed, showing him the boxes yet to be unpacked, the books and bits and pieces that needed furniture to be stored in and on.

She stood at the window, pointing across to his.

“I wish we had a balcony. That would make things easier. We could set up a string with a tin-can on either end.” She glanced at him. “Did you do that as a child? We could talk to each other.”

“Or we could just use phones?” He grinned, waving his mobile at her.

She laughed, catching his sparkling gaze. It was so nice to laugh with someone again, she couldn’t help but lean over and press her lips against his.

He froze, and she bit her lip. “Was that okay?”

“Is this what you want?” His voice was husky.

“If you want it, too?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his gaze held hers as he leaned in for another kiss.

Everything about him was gentle. His kiss, his touch.

He removed her clothes as though they were expensive silk he was too scared to tear, he held her like she were porcelain, his tongue circling her nipples, her clit, exploring her folds and tasting her insides.

His cock was thick, and slid inside her so slowly, filling her up, making her moan.

His hands brushed her hair from her face as he kissed her lips, and nibbled on her ears. When he held her shoulders, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, meeting him thrust for thrust as the pleasure built up in her body, as the months of no intimate contact merged with the weeks of no physical contact, and she held him so tight as though she could merge their bodies into one.

They came together, bodies sweaty and slippery, grasping one another as though they never wanted to let go.

Afterwards, Thyra made Cashel a coffee, and they sat together by the window, watching the empty street.

“Can we do this again?” Cashel asked.

Thyra smiled. “I would like that.”

“Tomorrow? We can meet again for a walk, and then….”

She nodded. “Earlier in the day, perhaps? So we can spend longer together?”

Now Cashel smiled. “Perfect.”