There’s nothing quite like the exhaustion that comes with moving furniture. But if you have the right equipment and some good friends, you won’t be so gassed after moving a refrigerator up two steps. That was the situation I was in Wednesday afternoon, as my friends helped me move into my new place, my own house in a quiet neighborhood not too far from where I worked. We were done in a couple hours. There was a sense of accomplishment as we hung out afterwards hydrating and intoxicating ourselves. It was really nice to have their support, and nice to already feel at home with all of them around. But even with great friends, I always reach a point where it catches up to me and I’m exhausted from the interaction and I need to recharge my battery. Alone. That’s just the way that works best for me.
After they left I sat on my backyard porch swing and cracked a beer. The blue sky dimmed as the sun set. The crickets serenaded the impending night. I stared at the brown pickett directly ahead. Hopes and possibilities jumbled around in my head, thoughts of meeting neighbors and enjoying more independence and turning my house into a leveled-up sanctuary for comfort. But another feeling, in my gut, was one of nervousness, of anxiety over what’s to come, challenges with insurmountable odds and ambiguities and a player to be named later. It was time to shut it all off. Time to fully drain. I left the beer to the mosquitoes and shut the screen door behind me. There was a labyrinth of boxes that I worked through to the makeshift bedroom. I stumbled onto the bed and worked my boxers onto the floor.
Lucky guy, I was, to be able to access the memories and mementos of my sexual experiences. I reached into an unpacked bin and pulled out the pair of Julia’s soiled panties. My inhale was deep. Her scent was robust, pussy and ass and pheromones and a lingering scent that was both dirty and sweet. The smells triggered the memories instantaneously, where my cock twitched to the phantom feelings of Julia’s throat jerking it warm and wet.
Glug glug glug glug, glug, glug, glug, gluglugluglugluglugluglugluglug.
I came quickly and easily but felt frustrated afterwards. I hadn’t heard from her in 3 weeks. At the time of our hookup I told myself to expect nothing and be cool with it. I was truly fortunate, then, to play with her the way we did. Time is a revealer of deeper truths, however, and the truth was that I missed her. But what could I do? We had agreed a few weeks before that we couldn’t text or call each other, just to be safe. A part of me wanted to break this rule, but the fact she hadn’t, made me think texting would only make things worse. Another part of me was severely concerned that I had done something wrong. It was really difficult to shake that feeling.
The next day I encountered two other truths of life. The first is that life’s worries and concerns are very rarely as bad as we imagine them to be. Don’t get me wrong, life can be very difficult, and certainly easier for some than others. But our worries are often amplified by our imaginations when we have too much time and no one around. I realized this, yet again, when I opened my mail box and found a letter from Julia. It felt nice to know this was the first mail my new home received. But the other truth that I encountered is that you rarely get exactly what you want. I recognized this, as the personal letter I was expecting from Julia (…which in retrospect made no sense because who her age writes letters…) turned out to be an invitation from her family for her graduation ceremony. The fonts were swirly and there was gold glitter everywhere.
Some communication was better than none, I figured. But then I also thought, what if this had no input from Julia herself? She wrote her name on the card, but the fact hers was in dark red ink while theirs was in black told me she just signed it after the fact. Her family was just being nice, as they usually were with these types of things. Same reason I’d get an Amazon gift card from them come holidays.
The more I thought about it, the more I reasoned her distance was a best-case scenario. Because, I mean, what if she ended up talking to them? What if she gained some new perspective and felt like I had taken advantage of her? What if, therefore, this was all a really elaborate setup? Was there a van outside my house listening in on me? Is there a graduation ceremony? Do kids graduate? What does that word even mean? And is her name even Julia?
Too much time. No one around. Too much time. No one around.
With too much time, at least, your mind can send you in the other direction. So as that moment passed, and the following days unfolded, I settled on the more stable viewpoint that I was worrying too much and things would be fine. There were no suspicious vehicles outside. Graduations were a thing. And Julia, who actually went by that name, was aware of the fact I was moving. Maybe she figured I’d be busy. She was busy too, of course.
And so truthfully, when graduation Saturday came around everything felt ok. I ate some breakfast and took a shower and dressed up nicely. I even felt pride as I got ready, thinking about what I did to help her get to this point. It felt exciting to gather myself, dressed to the nines, and participate in the celebration. It was a welcoming feeling to slo-roll into the parking lot and saunter towards the gym. The school was really clean and there were balloons tied to everything. There was the sound of high heels echoing down hallways. Fresh baked cookies on trays, carried by a caravan of staff, to an undisclosed location.
Curiosity got the best of me and I followed the last in the cookie caravan down a hallway and around a corner when I bumped into a paunchy man in his 50s with curly black and gray hair. He wore 10 year old Merrell sneakers and had a vinyl record under his arm.
“Well how about that,” the man said. “Small world.”
“Jim!” I said. “So what’s the deal, I move away and now I can’t have a cookie?”
“Wait like the rest of ‘em you little shit,” he said. He reached out and gave me a half hug, careful with the vinyl record. I asked him what he was packing.
“I shit you not, this was a gift from some of the kids,” he said. “These kids, they can’t tell you a thing about music, but they can google, find discogs, find the exact version of a record down to the matrix. It’s impressive and it isn’t at the same time, you know?”
“It’s impressive Jim. You’re just old. You need a cookie or something. Get me one while you’re at it.”
“You’ll be too someday and I’ll haunt your ass,” he said. He handed me the record.
“Songs For My Father? I’m surprised you don’t have this one already.”
“Not this. It’s an original blue note. Rudy Van Gelder etching. It’s impressive, I must admit.”
He showed me its lack of imperfections with the enthusiasm of Christmas morning. “You know what I’ll be doing tonight,” he said.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Amaretto on the rocks?”
He laughed in an ostentatious sort of way. “A Van Gelder original deserves scotch. Neat.”
“Neat,” I said.
Cookie-less, I found my way to the gym and took one of the few remaining seats. The family I sat next to were warm. Their daughter played tennis with Julia and the father knew a lot about the French Open. The ceremonies were pleasant and everyone was safe. It all seemed so easy up to that point. At the end, the principal talked into the microphone and there was feedback noise that got the students too hyped. She eventually told us to head outside.
The gigantic field beyond the gym was known as the quad. The green felt neverending. There were folding tables with gold and white striped sheets, and the drink bowls had ladles. The rumor was that the cookies were soon to arrive. Families were scattered in all directions. It was a very pleasant sight but I had a lot of trouble feeling comfortable as the inevitable dragged me down. But I reasoned that if there was an issue it would have happened already. Another student’s little brother found me and asked me to show him my tattoo and I did and he was funny.
With less reluctance and more relaxation, I searched the sea of tall, long-haired girls with caps until I sighted my siren, posing for her dad who tried his best Scorcese impression with a Galaxy S series. When I arrived we all exchanged hugs and Julia felt warm and it felt ok. I scrutinized her face for anything, while keeping my cool, and she was very hard to read. We kept it light and Julia played with her hair in the maroon bow.
There was no sign of the worst-case scenario. It seemed like most of my concerns were self-inflicted, so as I realized this I was able to loosen up and enjoy their company. The conversation was light and flowing. I suppose one could say I was betraying their trust, but I was sincere and earnest with my job, and my experience with Julia was coming from a place of similar sincerity and mutual communication. At least that’s what I had convinced myself of.
And in that moment the thought was out-of-reach, floating far beyond the expanse of the grass. The day was bright and there were napkins loose in the light breeze. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted another one of my students. I was beginning to feel that I should go, or that I was close to staying past my welcome, and I told them I should go say hi to some others. Julia’s mom offered tea if I were to come by in the summer and I was amicable. Julia took a break from playing with her hair bow and handed me a present.
“I, I mean we,” she said, “wanted to give this to you.”
“It’s nothing,” said Julia’s mom. “Really, could we perhaps give you something more? Do you like Apple or Samsung?”
“Mama I took care of it,” said Julia. “Remember?”
“Oh yes, yes,” said her mom. “Open it!”
It was a shadow box, it seemed, like the type you’d find in a Michael’s. The box was black and about the size of a football and heavier than you’d expect. And floating in the center, behind a pane of glass, was a miniature decoration, a sort of education-themed mashup of notebooks and binder paper, pens and pencils, a ruler, all with a swirling red ribbon throughout.
“This is so nice,” I said. “What a sweet gift. Thank you.”
Julia said, “You can take out the back and there’s a gift card there too. But it’s kinda annoying to, like, pop it back in. Hope you like puzzles.”
“Why’d you put it there?” asked her dad.
“So it’s all in one thing. I told you!” said Julia.
Her dad put his hand on my shoulder. “I used to feed lions, back when I was a young man like yourself. How blessed I am that I did!” He tapped his nose and laughed and Julia stared him down.
“She’s having a sleepover with friends,” said her mom. “We think it’s just an excuse. Anything to get away from us!” Both her parents laughed and I played along.
The gift was a kind gesture. But at the same time there was something about it that fell a bit flat, and it reminded me of the feeling I was having that very moment with Julia. She was being friendly, but in the way that she always did in the presence of her parents. I just could not read those heavy green eyes.
But I did say my goodbyes and lingered for a moment that felt like forever. I guess in the most cliched sense, I expected her to come running after me. Maybe more reasonably, accost me while I’m walking around. At the very least, I expected some sort of sign or indication or hint or subtle moment of inertia that told me something, some feeling, some acknowledgment that we could and would see each other again.
I walked to the parking lot feeling much different than before. I put the gift and a foil wrap of cookies on the passenger’s seat and closed the door and the slam felt bad. There was too much silence. The nervousness built back up in my belly. I felt sad and guilty and worried I had done her wrong, but also felt the urge to move on, and all the while a feeling of pride. It was too intense, too weird, too much. I put the pedal to the metal and scorched out of that parking lot at a solid 15mph.
Sleeves up, window down, glove compartment popped. I blazed a half joint heading home and cruised into the neighborhood warm and toasty. The boxes were still everywhere. The paint was still fresh. I mindlessly consumed half the cookies by the time I put the shadow box in the bedroom. My stomach was full but I still felt wrong. Issues of the heart, it seemed, hurt a particular kind of hurt no matter who it involved. And so I sat in my chair, staring at the box, thinking about the fact I was feeling the same feeling I’ve felt before in flings and interactions and relationships and undefined. It was actually a bit funny, and in a way felt comfortable. But I was also pissed and not high enough to be cool with it. And I wasn’t thinking. I kicked the shadow box from my seated position. The glass broke and pieces flew everywhere and I didn’t care.
The night was sultry. Sitting on the swing sometime later, I tapped the ash of a joint into my beer’s bottle cap. My thoughts went in loops that I forgot about and began again. I tapped the ash of the shadow box I didn’t care and began again, that I forgot The glass broke in a way felt comfortable. and I didn’t care. a bit funny the glass broke and it was everywhere and I didn’t care. My thoughts went in loops that I tapped the ash It was actually a bit funny to be cool with it and began again,. And I wasn’t thinking.
And the crickets serenaded the night.
Navigating boxes proved to be a challenge at that moment. When I finally found the right path to the bedroom, I was caught up in the excitement that I entered quickly and forgot about the glass shards. It pinched a bit, and while I scanned the carpet for all sorts of phantom pieces, I found the shadow box. The frame was broken and the back had a hole in it now. I reached my fingers inside and pulled out the gift card. There seemed to be insulation in the backing because there were some purple threads sticking out. I plucked at them and they resisted. I got a better grip and gave them a pure tug and the purple threads led way to a tiny curtain of purple, sliding out of the hole now into an entire bundle of purple. I unfurled the bundle and a pair of purple panties rested upon my palms.
Even in my current condition I thought I understood instantly, but I glanced at the bin and the originals were still there. It took another minute to gather myself and come to the realization that this wasn’t a marijuana-induced National Treasure fantasy, but the real fucking deal. My heart picked up and I played the floor is lava to my bed. My pants were off and my hands stayed busy rubbing myself above my boxers. Urged on by my heartbeat and lust, I dove the purple panties into my face. There was no question, it was her. The musk was incredibly fresh and it was still a bit damp where her pussy had been. There were stains all over. Her ass was strong and it was kinda filthy yet I was sprung. And if you’ve known it, it was a special kind of sprung, where it felt like your sexual energy wanted to burst out of you, but there was no fear of that actually happening and instead, you just felt rock hard and full.
She really went to town on these panties, I realized. Her scent was seriously strong. It didn’t stop me one moment from using the panties to jerk myself off a bit. I looked down at my hand, imagining that she was there instead, imagining that bubbly ass stuffed in those panties but pulled to the side, going up and down on my steely dan. That’s when I noticed some black spots on the panties.
It looked like ink. It was fuzzy ink. It was Sharpie.
Instead of moving, I stared at the clock, like I needed evidence that I was in the real world. Convinced, I rode the chair over to a desk lamp and scrutinized the ink.
just in case…
osaka→ #3928→ maroon
930pm sat 🙂
——————————————————————————————————————–
It was 920pm and I was speeding with the windows rolled down. I was still pretty toasted, which is probably why I had the faintest feeling that I was misinterpreting her message. But I kept going. What overshadowed those doubts was a feeling of inevitability, like everything was falling into place. Feeling that confident pushed me to reach into the glove compartment and light up another half-joint.
You don’t always get what you want. You might as well call that a truism. It very rarely works out the way you intend. But the thing about that, is that sometimes that’s just not true. Sometimes, far-fetched possibilities do work out the way you hope. It’s super, super rare, of course. But it does happen, where everything falls perfectly into place. They say the chances of winning the lottery are just as rare as being hit by an asteroid. But the thing is, there is that someone who manages the impossible and wins the lottery. And it happens more often than you’d think. And it’s one of those things where you can sense it the moment it begins, and it’s like you’re watching in slow motion as the choreography unfolds in front of your eyes and destiny becomes fulfilled.
At least that’s the way I felt that night, in that moment, as I pulled my car into Julia’s high school parking lot. I walked with an air underneath me, like I didn’t have a worry in the world. Maybe it’s because I knew that my old neighbor Jim Rossi, the head of school security, was a penny-pincher who wouldn’t dare ask his staff to cover the campus that night after giving them extra hours to cover for the graduation earlier in the day. Maybe it’s because I knew that he was immersed in Horace Silver and a bottle of Macallan 18 that very moment. Maybe it’s because I knew Julia’s favorite tennis player was Naomi Osaka. Or because she had spent countless nights training at those facilities, to the point that Jim knew it was far most cost-effective to grant a trustworthy student the code. Or the fact that she hated sleepovers and had ranted to me about that more than once. Or maybe, it was because of the father who I talked to at the graduation ceremony, who went on and on about the tennis facilities at the campus and in particular, the lounge room beyond the maroon door, which was modeled in the likeness of the lockers at Roland Garros.
Or maybe I was just high and this was all a coincidence. Those happen too. But I strolled the campus with no one around to the security door of the tennis facilities. 3928 on the keypad, the door open now, the door closed now. Down a hallway to a maroon door, a maroon handle, turned and opened and now standing inside the locker room. It felt minimalist in design. The carpet was beige and the lockers were a lighter beige framed by a dark brown wood. The lockers lined the walls in such a clean and simple way like standing in a Japanese tatami room. The room was low in height. The lights were warm and soft. There were eight plush white ottomans equally spaced on the carpet. Julia was sitting in a pretty spring-colored floral dress.
“I do like puzzles,” I said.
Julia ran up to me and gave me a strong hug. “I’m so happy!” She towered over me in high heels.
Even though I felt relieved at that moment, my state of highness had me in an interesting headspace. I thought about how lucky I was that it all worked out, but also about how easily it could have collapsed. The chance to finally see Julia after all these weeks, despite all these doubts and insecurities, hanging on by the thinnest of threads. And if everything didn’t fall into place just right, I might’ve never seen her again and possibly never known what on earth happened between us. These thoughts hit me all at once and I started to tear up.
“I…missed you,” I said. “I really, really missed you.”
Julia looked concerned and sat with me on the ottoman, stroking my hair. “Fuck, dude, I was worried this could happen.”
“Honestly, it was almost pure luck. I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”
“But, but you knew we couldn’t talk,” she said.
“I know, but…”
“Did you think I didn’t like you anymore?” she asked.
“Yes! It crossed my mind more than once, to put it lightly.”
“Dude, I would have called you if it was like that,” she said. “I’m sorry, I get you’re upset right now, but dude, why would I ignore you after what we’ve done? Do you think what we did is that meaningless?”
“No! Not at all. But I didn’t have a single clue what was going on! And time goes by and doubts start to creep in.”
Julia put her hands in her lap and looked at me intently. “But, I did give you clues.”
I put my hands up. “I mean, the panties were awesome, Julia, don’t get me wrong. But honestly the only reason–”
“–what about the letter?” she asked.
“The graduation invite?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“What about it?” I asked. She stared at me and threw her hands up.
“Uh, what? First off I wrote my name in maroon ink. Then I put a shit ton of thick maroon arrows pointing to the giant cardboard O on the front of the card. Did you not find the letter I folded inside the O?”
I stared at her with my mouth slightly open.
“Oh my god, dude!” she said. “The letter says, like, everything. About my parents. They’ve been on me, ya know? Like they’ve been saying I’ve been acting distracted. Then I talked about how I felt, then I told you about tonight, I told you…if it didn’t work out…” and suddenly Julia began to tear up. I felt further upset that we were both upset in the moment. I hugged her hard and we shared some moments of intimacy I liked as much as anything.
“Didn’t you wonder why my underwear said just in case?”
I put my head down. “I’m an idiot.”
“You were distracted today,” she said, lifting my head back up. “I was playing with my maroon frickin hair bow the whole time. When mama mentioned the sleepover I gave you an obvious look, and you weren’t even looking.”
“I mean, I realized some of this later,” I said. “But it was only because I found the panties.”
We were both coming down from a cascade of tears into a calmer and warmer state. But we both saw within each other our sadness and frustrations over our miscommunications, and I think in that moment, we both understood each other and it was effortless to embrace and convey everything in our hug. Despite my previous adventures, despite all the sexual fervency and insanity that had come before, this was something that resonated with me on a very different level. I didn’t want to let go.
Julia softened her grip on me and we leaned into each other’s foreheads. She held my face with both hands and gave a faint mm, as if to say, no, this will not do, and she embraced my lips with hers, softly but with intent.
“Don’t forget this,” she said, “until we talk again.”
She asked if I understood and I said I did. The feelings washed over and rolled around and swung us into a moment fully present with each other. I kissed her, exhaling my worries through my nose. And when I reached my hand underneath her dress, her lips parted. Our tongues went at each other. And we could hear the noises now, how sloppy and wet our tonguing was, and it was turning us on even more as we realized we were turning our words and hugs into something much more sexual.
“Oh my god,” she said, as my hand explored and I kissed her on the neck.
We both looked around for a moment to bask in the silence and acknowledge the elephant in the room, that there was no elephant in the room. When we returned to each other’s eyes, I looked at her with hunger, and she devoured my soul with a radial burst of green. She was momentarily intimidating and scary, to the point I was reminded of Ananya. But Julia never gave the impression that she tiptoed into psychoville. She was intimate and vulnerable and the room was warm. I was getting hard, and when I remembered that I was still pretty blazed from before, it was almost like my body remembered as well, and took my erection to another level, the blood engorging my member as persistently as it could.
Julia kicked off her heels and slid backwards on the spacious ottoman. She spread her legs and rested her feet at opposite ends, her skirt now sliding up her light brown legs a bit, revealing a pair of lace maroon panties in between.
“Come,” she said. I slid up between her and we kissed. She felt so amazing to kiss. It felt like it was where I was supposed to be, returning once again to where I had been many lives before, throughout the centuries. Maybe that’s a bit odd, but it felt so certain in the moment. She wrapped her legs around my back and I did the same to her. Her heat was close to my heat and I couldn’t help but inhale the pussy musk that was wafting up into my face.
She giggled through the kisses. “You’re a bit of a weirdo, dude. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“Yes,” I said. We laughed. She put her arms over my shoulders.
“I missed your tongue on me,” she whispered. I could tell that there was a bit of hesitation to her words, like she wasn’t fully comfortable with being so explicit and direct with her sexual feelings. That inexperience was cute and propelled me to take the lead.
“I missed your throat,” I said much louder. “I missed it jerking me nice and wet.”
Her eyes widened and she belted a laugh before giving me a playful slap on the chest. “Dude! You’re so bad! You make me blush when you talk like thaaaat.”
I smiled. “But you missed it too.” I rubbed her hips as we continued to embrace, legs interlocked behind each other’s backs. “Tell me about it.”
Julia giggled, flung her head back, then returned face-to-face. “I missed…oh god, I missed…your dick.” She looked around like someone was listening to us.
“Oh yeah?”
She took a breath then abandoned her wandering eyes and stared me down. “Alright, dude, you know what? I do. I really fucking do.” She took another exhale. “I missed it sliding all the way down my throat,” she said. “I liked it when you fucked my face, you know?” And she said fucked louder and more aggressive, like she was finally letting go of her inhibitions. “When you fucked in like it was my pussyyyy.”
I couldn’t hold back any longer. She was too much. Before she even finished her words I popped off the ottoman and started frantically undoing my belt. And she understood. She licked her lips and sat up on the edge of the ottoman, watching me unhook the belt, then drop my pants, then drop my boxers, exposing the hardest erection I think I’ve ever had. Her heavy eyelids lifted for just a moment, a flash of green, her body language saying whoa but the rest of her staying silent all the while. And I held the base of my dick and pulsed horniness, and she looked at it and looked at me with her mouth parted ever-so-slightly.
“You mean like this?” I said, palming the back of her head and guiding my cock towards her beautiful pillowy lips. She looked up at me with desperate eyes, her tongue now out, a soft moan of ehhhhhhhhh. It was a gorgeous sight, watching her grab my cock away from me, open her mouth, and allow my pulsing rock-hard fuckstick to slide into her, the inches disappearing, all the way down now directly into the depths of her throat. The fact that she didn’t even kiss it or lick it or do any semblance of foreplay before directly taking it deep-throat was so hot that when my cock fell all the way into her, my pubic mound fully against her face, I held her head with both hands and pulsed my hardness even harder inside her. She coughed and I pulled it out right at that moment, thick strings of saliva clinging between my cock and her lips as she caught her breath and smiled at me upon dismount.
I stood her up and kissed her, my beard stubble pressing into her soft cheeks. “You are all I need, ever.”
She dropped to her knees in front of the ottoman. “Let’s go, dude.” Blehhhhhhhh.
“Ohhh fuck yeah,” I said, sliding all the way back in. Gluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglulgluglugluglug
She pulled off and caught her breath again and scooted on her knees right back up to me, grasping both my ass cheeks hard. I could see the fire. No wonder she was so damn good at tennis, I realized. “Use me,” she said. “Use my throat.”
Glug-glug-glug-glug glugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglugluglug.
I was throat-fucking her so fast that a white froth started forming on my dick from our friction. It was insanity. Combined with my highness, the feeling of her hot wet throat sliding up and down my shaft was so intense that I stumbled backwards a bit while she went at me. But Julia didn’t let up, staying glued to my cock. When I stumbled she took her hand and used her head to push me back and against the beige lockers. It actually hurt a bit but I didn’t have a care in the world.
“Holy fucking shit,” I dribbled out incoherently.
Julia was being so aggressive, like the athlete she was, using her head to basically head-butt my crotch into the locker as she kept my cock fully in her throat all the while. How on earth she was able to do it comfortably, I did not understand. And the sounds of sex and rattling locker doors echoed throughout the room. It felt like every pulse of my cock was leaking out pre-cum. I tried to reach my hands out to Julia to get her to slow down, but she’d swallow my cock immediately and I’d lose my constitution as my senses overwhelmed. And soon I was gasping for air, my arms against the walls of lockers, like I was getting punched and couldn’t catch my breath to stop it. And it was beautiful and in a moment of clarity I realized how dedicated she was to pleasing me and I understood her. My toes started to curl and ripples of pleasure ran up my legs and a tingling within my cock was escalating and unstoppable. I felt uninhibited and knew we were alone, so I held nothing back and yelled with pleasure.
I got my hands off the locker and onto her head. “I’m fucking cumming. Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh.”
My cock twitched and pulsed and spewed out burst after burst after burst of hot cum, into her throat and mouth. Julia coughed and I pulled out, shooting two more loads of cum onto her face as cum bubbles dribbled out of her mouth. It was a total mess but Julia guided it all back into her mouth, and sucked the tip of my dick to get every last drop. She stood up and swallowed now, while looking at me with a blaze of green glory.
She did a cute little toe pivot. “Did I do good?”
I finally caught my breath. “My god. Olympic gold medal. I can’t believe I came that quickly.”
“Yay!” she said. “I wanted to do that again sooo bad.”
I kind of laughed to myself as I slowly unbuttoned my shirt, realizing that I never got a moment to do such a simple task. Julia came up to me and put her hands on my chest as we kissed, and her mouth was a bit salty and I soon realized why. But I went with it. She jumped into my arms and I dropped onto an ottoman, Julia now in my lap.
“You know what I want to do again?” I asked.
We parted lips and Julia said, “What’s that?”
“You know,” I said.
She laughed. “Now you have to say it!”
“I wanna lick your pussy.”
“Mmmm,” she said. “That sounds really good.”
“And,” I said, “I wanna taste your ass, too, if you’ll let me.”
She playfully scoffed. “Dirtyyyyyy,” she said. “Why are you such a bad boy?”
“You bring it out of me,” I said. “I wanna taste all of you.”
She gave me a tender kiss on the lips and giggled under her breath. “Naughty boy. There’s a bit of a problem, though.”
“Oh?”
Julia got off of me and stood up. She reached under her dress and wiggled her hips, sliding her maroon panties to her ankles. Those panties had a lot of wetness exactly where you’d expect. She carried herself with warmth and walked to the nearest ottoman. Her back facing me, Julia looked at me over her shoulder as she got on all fours onto the ottoman.
“I don’t think you can eat my ass,” she said. She lifted her floral dress up and over her ass, now fully spread doggystyle, her pussy on full display, a large sapphire-colored heart sticking out of her asshole. “At least not with this thing in the wayyyy.” She laughed and wiggled her ass at me.
My mouth dropped. “Wow.”
“You like it?” she asked. The sapphire was made of a sparkly plastic.
“Uh, yeah! But I mean, what does this mean?”
Julia got up and wrapped me in her arms. “You know what it means, dude. I want you to fuck my ass. I’ve been prepping, if you know what I mean!!” She snorted into a laugh.
“But…I didn’t know you like–”
“–I’ve never done it,” she said. “Hear me out, ok?”
“Of course.”
“I want you, so bad,” she said. “I wanna do everything with you. But, ya know, like I said I’m not experienced. I’ve never had sex. So, like, when we do it, and ya know I mean do it do it, I want it to be special.”
“I want it to be special, too.”
“We’re sneaking around, though, ya know? This is hot. But it’s, like…”
“–You want to lose it when we don’t have to be sneaky about it,” I said.
Julia’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! But, in the meantime, I want something. I, like, need you in me. We’re being bad here.”
“So let’s be bad,” I said. “I get you.”
“I know you do!” she said. “That’s, like, another thing. I’ve got, oh my god this is so embarrassing having to, like, literally say it. I’ve got feelings for you. And I know you have them for me.”
“I feel worse that I didn’t trust you earlier,” I said. “I shouldn’t have got into my head so much. My lack of trust is an insult to your judgment.”
Julia adjusted into a better posture. “Yep. It felt like that, not gonna lie.” She played around with her fingernails.
“You deserve better than that,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“We deserve better than that. Think of it like a sport. If we were a team. Our team isn’t going to work if we can’t trust our teammates.”
“Yeah, of course,” I said.
“It’s, like, the same thing with what we’re doing here. Our team doesn’t deserve these facilities. You know? We deserve better than that. I want something better than that. You get me?”
“Yes.” We sat together on the ottoman and I held her hand. “And we’re already moving so fast,” I said. “This shouldn’t be rushed.”
“Exactly!” she said.
The warm lights in the room hummed and I felt a buzzing within. And there was silence and a sense of equilibrium. I rubbed Julia’s light brown hand and looked at her, and I saw her soul and I saw the sincerity and in that moment felt there was nothing more real than what was in front of my eyes.
“I don’t think we should fuck tonight,” I said. I felt that perhaps an earlier version of myself wouldn’t say such a thing. That guy would be too horny to let anything real get in his way. But fuck that guy.
“Wait, what?”
“If I fuck you in your ass right now, I mean, of course it’s different than taking your virginity. But, isn’t it all just different levels of intimacy? I mean, what we already did was hugely intimate. If we keep going right now, we aren’t really shying away from much. When you said it, it clicked for me.”
Julia looked at me blankly then sighed and smiled. “Damnit. I shouldn’t have said anything!” She snorted again.
“It’s going to be so fucking good, though, when we do it,” I said. “Like, I fucking promise you it’ll be wild.”
“I’ve heard stories,” she said. I playfully clenched my teeth.
“I swear, it’ll be even better. I’m going to bring my A game.”
Julia rubbed my shoulder and had a bit of a whimper to her expression. She reached behind her and underneath her dress, making a funny face as she pulled from behind. She held the butt-plug by the sapphire tip, showing me the bulbous cone-shaped black object that had been in her ass just moments before. She looked at it with a bit of disappointment.
“What am I going to do with this?” she said. It was black and glossy and it was evident it had just been in her ass. I must admit to you, at this moment, that part of the reason I was so comfortable with ending the festivities before the parade arrived, was that I knew that butt-plug wasn’t about to magically disappear. I stared some seduction at Julia, who had a look of recognition.
“Bro,” she said. “So this is the legend they speak of. In the flesh.”
“Ok, time out, who is they exactly?” I asked. Julia clapped her hands and snickered and I moved on. I took the butt plug and held it by the sapphire.
“Oh fuck,” I said. “I mean, I just have to take care of this.”
“You don’t have to, like, at all dude!” She laughed uncontrollably and gathered herself.
I looked into Julia’s eyes. “Then let me make this clear. I want to. I fucking want this.” Julia offered her palms, as if to say, all yours, bro. And that was all I needed. I put Julia’s butt plug to my nose and inhaled her ass musk, as Julia herself looked at me with a crinkled forehead and a taken-aback expression. I inhaled some more, her scent rich and earthy and powerful.
“Oh my god, dude, you’re so kinky,” she said. “What does it smell like?”
“It smells like ass,” I said, to a solo audience of laughter. “But I swear, if you get over the fact it smells like that, and start, like actually paying attention to it, it’s fucking amazing. It’s just intoxicating in the absolute weirdest way.”
“Dude, you’re so weird,” she said. “You make me intrigued. What the fuck.”
I continued to sniff it, maybe only a foot away from Julia’s face. My noises of arousal enveloped the space around us. As I began to lick her butt plug, taking in the surprisingly neutral and slightly sweet taste, eyes closed, I opened them to the sight of Julia on the other side of the butt plug, sniffing what I hadn’t got to yet. Her eyes were closed and she kept sniffing while I continued to lick. What a sight, I thought, and what a girl. She backed off from it.
“Oh my god I can’t believe I just did that,” she said. “Ok…I think I get it. It’s, like, kinda addictive. Like, there’s something to it that makes me wanna keep smelling it, even though it definitely smells funky, you frickin’ weirdo.”
I licked the wide base, where it was at its dirtiest, and I looked at Julia and took another risk and dove in for a kiss. And in that moment right before I fully dove in, I saw her see my intent, and I saw her close her eyes and open her mouth a bit, willing to receive the naughtiness from my tongue. We embraced and swirled our tongues and it didn’t have a discernible taste. And the walls hummed with a sound of silence.
I dropped the butt plug and we started to make-out hard. Our hands were all over each other and I was naked and Julia had nothing but her floral dress on. She rolled me onto the ottoman and got on top, sitting on my lap just above my cock, which was back to full energy and already dripping precum. She leaned into me and we kissed, and I scooted back on the ottoman so I could put my feet flat, my knees up. I reached underneath her dress, lifting it up and putting my hand underneath her undercarriage, which was scorching hot and dripping a bit of her wetness onto me. I grabbed my cock and started slapping my shaft hard against her pussy and asshole, occasionally swiping the tip against her wet labia.
“Fuhuuuuck,” she said. “We need to staaaaahp.” But she started grinding on me, bouncing her pussy against and away from the shaft of my steady cock. I was looking into her eyes as I rubbed my shaft against her pussy lips, sliding along them up and down, up and down. My dick would swipe past her pussy opening, and when the head of my cock went past it, down towards her clit then back up again, it would ever-so-slightly dip into the opening before continuing its way up her labia towards her asshole. Julia was moaning and she was twerking her pussy against my cock.
“We need to stop,” I said. “We need to stop.”
Julia was twerking now in such a way that she kept pushing harder against my shaft, so that when I continued sliding my cock up and down along her labia, I was spelunking more and more into her pussy opening each time I’d swipe by. At one point I held my cock, which was leaking out precum, and I pressed the tip of my dick right up against her vagina. I just held it there and shook my cock against her opening, pushing it just a bit, trying my best to somehow not fuck her even though my body was doing everything it could to go against that.
Julia hopped off of me and looked drunk with lust. She lifted her dress over her shoulders and was completely naked now. She got back onto the ottoman and squatted over my dick, hands on either side of my stomach. Her body was so fit and so sexy and her breasts hypnotized me with their perky perfection. I watched her as she watched herself grab the base of my cock and intentionally lift her pussy right over my tip. She was now doing what I did, shaking my cock’s tip aggressively against her vaginal opening. And she looked at me like she was begging for it, and I was so out of my mind that I couldn’t think straight and didn’t know what to do. Julia started doing tiny squats directly onto my tip, allowing maybe ⅓ of my cock head to dip into her pussy and out, into and out, into and out.
“Fuuuuck. I can’t take ittttt,” she said. “I want you to fuck meeeeeeee.”
I was gasping for air. “But what about…”
“–I knowwwww,” she said. “I’m just so fucking horny. So fucking horny.”
“Here, turn the other way, sit on my face,” I said. “Just…sit on my face…”
“Nooooo,” she said. “I want your cock. I want your cooooock.”
“If this goes in,” I said, “I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”
“Do ittt,” she said. “Please, please do it.”
“I’m going to pound your pussy like we’re rabbits.”
“Fucking do ittt. Fucking fuck it. I can take it. I waaaant it.”
I grabbed her by the waist and brought her in for a kiss. We locked lips and her tongue was maniacal, desperate to do something it didn’t even understand. Thank goodness for that tongue. It made me realize how clouded we both were. While we kept kissing and I kept slapping my cock against her wanting pussy, I lifted her up a bit and slipped my sweaty back down the ottoman in one smooth move, latching my mouth onto her pussy, my legs and cock now off the ottoman’s edge.
Julia squealed as I moved us back to the middle of the ottoman, her on top of me, her pussy straddling my mouth. She was cooing high-pitched yelps while she stroked her clit up and down my tongue. She pinned my hands against the ottoman and started grinding her pussy into my mouth aggressively.
“Oh. fuck. yeah.,” she grunted with every grind. “Ohhh god that’s amazing. Oh god oh.my.fucking.god.”
Her pussy was delicious and so ludicrously wet that my face felt like a total mess even though I couldn’t see it. It didn’t really matter. I was simply happy that she was happy. And what a sight to see her happy, as she grabbed chunks of my hair and kept swerving her pussy over my face, basically using me to get herself off. I stuck my tongue up and we played a similar game, albeit a safer one, where she sat her vagina onto my tongue before popping back up. Just a little in, then out. In, then out. In and out. It tasted vaguely salty, mostly just like skin, and the scent of strong and musky pheromones had me begging for more.
“Ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ughhhhhhh,” she blurted as she fucked my tongue like a cock. When I started swirling my mouth onto her clit she removed her hands from me and pinched her nipples, tugging at them and bouncing on my face while I suctioned her sex button.
“Don’t stoppp,” she said. “Keep doing exactly that.”
I obliged. I wasn’t quite sure exactly what I was doing, but whatever it was, I just repeated the motions over and over and over and over the top she went with her convulsions. Julia grunted loudly and ferociously, like she was jizzing all over me, like a puma with a guttural roar, one that was shaking and spazzing her pussy onto my face. And I kept going. And in little time Julia turned her spasms into slow rolls, gliding her soaked pussy lips along my mouth, slower and slower now, until she finally exhaled and stopped. She got off of me and helped me up, holding my face and kissing me with the purest intent.
“Shit, dude,” she said. “You saved me. I just needed to get that nut out.”
“You sound like a guy sometimes,” I said. She punched my arm.
“Shuttup! Holy shit that was close.”
“Man, you’re not kidding,” I said. I wiped my face and it was drenched with all types of fluids. It smelled sexy and I loved it.
The night was no longer young. We were putting clothes on when Julia stopped me and held my hand. “Thank you. Seriously. That was, like, some legit gentleman shit right there.”
“Of course,” I said. “To be fair I almost caved in. You’re really persuasive!” She smiled.
“You didn’t. And that means a lot to me. To us.”
I put my arms around her and kissed her. “And when we get things right,” I said, “there won’t be any more holding back. And I’m not gonna be a gentleman anymore.” She leaned into me hard and sucked on my tongue.
“I’ll be yours. All of me,” she said. As we pressed against each other, she could feel my bulge strengthening. She reached down and gave it a squeeze. “Let me make sure your tank is empty.”
Julia dropped to her knees and took my erection out. The room was clean and there was a smell of sex. And she was young and brave and the ottoman was wet with our passions.
“Oh boy,” I said.
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