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It had been years since I’d used an alarm clock no matter how beat I am, and this morning I feel totally beat. My eyes popped open somewhere between 5:00 and 5:30. I know from experience there is no going back to sleep. If I try, the result will be a headache that crawls up the back of my neck to lock my head in a vise.
I awake feeling more than fatigue. Disquiet churns my stomach. I feel as if a distant figure has solemnly intoned, “You may open your booklets and begin.” At the very moment, I realize that not only have I failed to bring two sharpened No. 2 pencils, I am also naked.
I roll out of bed as quietly as I can while mentally kicking my own ass. I cannot imagine what possessed me to open up like that to two strangers. We’ve fucked and sucked each other but that doesn’t make us friends. I must be getting fucking stupid in my old age.
I grab my trunks from the bar behind the tub, marveling that they had been tossed there last night. It feels like days ago. I groan, recalling how I briefly deep-throated Chad’s cock and the astonished look in Amy’s eyes when she tumbled to the fact he liked it. I groan again, this time out loud. What am I doing getting hooked up in what is bound to be a fucking three-ring circus? Haven’t I had enough drama in my life already?
I pause, trunks in hand, as my stomach roils. I glance at the pocket door leading to the water closet. Am I going to puke? God I hope not. I hate puking and have no wish to look even more like a loser in front of these two.
I manage a slow deep breath, what the birth class instructor had referred to as a “cleansing breath,” hoping to calm my stomach and my mind, but at the moment, I’ll settle for quieting my stomach.
The place reeks of sex, a miasma of pussy, cum, and sweat. This does nothing to settle my stomach. I grab the dry bag, shorts, and shoes and flee my own bedroom. I wonder if rather than age making me stupid I have finally managed to cum my brains out.
I slide the screen door open and step onto the balcony and inhale the still air of the morning, enjoying the tangy odor of the sea. I put my running shoes and shorts in the dry bag, check to make sure my key is inside the bag, pull my trunks on, and go inside. I scrawl a quick note and leave it on the table and head for the beach.
I wonder if I will be relieved or disappointed to find Amy and Chad gone when I return.
The beach is deserted. I wade in and suppress a shudder. Yesterday’s storm has churned the water in the shallow inlet, bringing up deeper and colder water. I duck my head beneath the next wave and begin to swim. My body falls into its accustomed rhythm and my mind wanders.
God, she had been so pissed off. She had looked like she could chew up a mouthful of nails and spit out carpet tacks. I cannot recall if it occurred to me that she was being more than a little weird about the whole thing. I mean, for Christ’s sake, she had only left a few hours ago. Nowadays, even a hint of that much clinginess and I politely but firmly make my farewells. Of course, back then I was hoping to have a relationship, not avoid one.
“Are you dumping me, asshole?” Ann spat out as she pushed past me. I closed the door and she turned on me, head jutting forward. Her checks rouged with anger. If she’d been bald she could have been Mussolini telling me to put up my dukes.
That mental image on top of everything else could only result in one thing.
I busted out laughing. I would still argue that was not an unreasonable response. Ann? Ann had a radically different view of my response.
She started hitting me on the shoulder and upper arm. “Don’t laugh at me you fucking asshole. Fuck you.”
I twisted away, too busy trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally hurt me, to answer her. I pulled the leg near her up guarding my nads on the off chance she decided to add a few kicks.
As quickly as it started, she stopped. I relaxed but remained turned slightly. Before I could answer, she started to cry. I don’t expect anything, in whatever remains of my life, to make me feel worse than being the cause of Ann’s tears.
She started to push me aside, moving toward the door. I managed to get an arm around her. I remember thinking maybe I should let her go. That would be the simplest course. Maybe as far as Ann was concerned perhaps that would be the best course. What I had done that morning in the men’s room was never far from mind.
I could see the asshole’s face. I could hear him sneer, “Does she know you’re a faggot?”
Despite all that was to come, I don’t regret stopping her from storming out of the door and out of my life.
She pushed against me, not very convincingly. She let me put my other arm around her.
I rocked her in my arms and whispered in the same tone I had once used on skittish horses. The words were of less important than the tone but they included. “Sorry” and “hush” and “don’t cry.”
She relaxed in my arms and sniffles replaced her sobs. I decided in those few minutes I would never tell her about what had happened in the men’s room. More importantly, I decided casino oyna that morning’s fiasco had exorcised that particular demon. And if it hadn’t, I would ignore it.
When she pushed me away this time, I let her. She wiped her eyes, then less ladylike, wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Her eyes sought mine. She hit me one more time on the chest as she sighed “asshole” at me. She touched the bruise around my nipple and I flinched.
I can still see in my head how her eyes grew large as she reached out to touch my chest.
“Did I do that to you?” Her voice was soft. She pointed at the bruise and abrasion around my nipple.
This was my last chance to tell her what happened; to tell her about what I consider my perversion. To tell her why it would never work for us. I couldn’t do it because I had convinced myself that I could make it work, that I would make it work.
I looked down and probed the area around my nipple. “It doesn’t hurt, not really. To be honest I don’t remember when it happened.” I smiled at her as the lie twisted around my heart. “We were pretty wound up at the time or at least I was.”
Ann shook her head. “It was pretty crazy.” She touched my chest. “I’ve never done that before, bit someone.”
I shrugged. “It was kind of hot actually.”
I nodded. “Really.” I crossed over to the small chest of drawers and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a tee shirt. I slipped them on and wedged my sockless feet into my tennis shoes, no more flip-flops for me.
“Come on let’s get lunch.”
“You sure? Don’t do it just to be nice to me. If you don’t want to go out with me, say so.”
“Jesus Christ Ann, let it go.” I held the door open for her. “But I assume that means you want to go out with me?”
“Of course. God, guys are dumb.”
I shake free of my memories long enough to notice the tide is pulling me out further than I intended. I angle more toward the shore.
We went to Denny’s. I think I got one of the grand slams. Ann got a chef salad with ranch dressing on the side. We both stuck with iced tea, Ann defiling hers with Sweet n Low. A character flaw I never got comfortable with.
“How can you drink that nasty stuff?”
“Tea? You’re drinking it.”
“Not after dumping a pink packet of gross in it.”
“It’s better than sugar.”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”
Our food arrived and we are quiet. I was getting my food ready when I notice Ann is staring at me with a smile.
“You. First you buttered your pancakes, then you poured syrup on them and then cut the stack down the middle, then each half into thirds before rotating the plate ninety degrees and repeating. Then you dashed your eggs with tobasco before cutting them just like the pancakes only without the ninety-degree turn, I’m assuming because the eggs are smaller but it may be that you didn’t have room to rotate the platter like you did the pancake plate. Then ketchup on the hash browns and it appears you are ready to eat. In the meantime I am half done with my salad.”
She smiled. I looked at the food in front of me. How else would one approach eating a large breakfast?
I took a bite of the pancakes, looked at her, and shrugged.
She laughed. It is a wonderful sound.
Afterward, too stuffed to walk far, we wandered back on campus. I steered us away from Fraser Hall just to be safe. Ann found a bench and sat. She let her head fall back. The light filtering through the ash leaves turned her face into a chiaroscuro a master would be proud to claim.
I sat in the corner of the bench, one leg bent and resting on the seat. I was happy and at the same time I wanted to disappear in a puff of smoke. How could I risk hurting her without being as big an asshole as the guy from this morning?
Her eyes were closed but her hand reached over and rested on the inside of my knee.
“Why did you go down on me like that? In my experience that doesn’t happen until later, if at all.”
I looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear her.
“Relax Vince, jeez.” Apparently her eyes were not completely closed.
“Because I was scared.”
She opened one eye. “What do you mean?”
“I was afraid I would mess up trying to make love to you. I knew I could go down on you.” She said nothing. A few minutes passed. “I came close to having sex once, earlier this year. We were both pretty drunk. We couldn’t manage to get her pants all the way off so she really couldn’t open her legs very well. I poked at her a couple times but couldn’t seem to, you know, get inside her. It was just short of farcical. In the end, I went down on her a little and she played with my dick. Neither of us got off, things just petered out, no pun intended. She told me good night which was a great relief and I fled. We were both too embarrassed to even talk to each other after that. I don’t want that to happen to us,” I added speaking as much to myself as Ann.
“Mmm, as I recall you ‘got inside’ me at least twice, although the one time maybe should count as twice, which would canlı casino bring it up to three, so nothing to be embarrassed about last night. I give you a B+, maybe an A-.”
“Why not an A?” I was serious and she could tell.
“Nobody’s perfect and you didn’t talk dirty to me.”
“Seriously? You want me to talk dirty to you?”
Her eye opened again. “Yeah Vince. All woman love to have guys ask them things like: ‘what am I doing to you?’ and ‘you like that cock in your pussy?’ We live for that.”
I just stared at her.
“Oh for Pete’s sake no. I was making a joke. Jeez you desperately need to relax. You’ll have a stroke or MI before you’re forty at this rate.”
“Okay fine. So why not an A?”
She shook her head and closed her eye again, ignoring me.
I steeled myself, still not sure how to manage this.
“Are we going to do it again?”
“No.” Silence. “Joke again, Vince. Joke.”
Then she sat up and turned to look at me. “Unless you don’t want to. Is that what you are trying to tell me? Maybe you don’t get it but I feel like I’m hanging out in the wind here. I’ve been getting these weird vibes from you all year. It’s like you open your mouth to ask me out then clamp it shut or at least that’s what I thought. I like you. I like you a lot but if I’ve fooled myself say so. I’m not interested in a couple of post-fuck pity dates.”
“Don’t’ be stupid. I’ve wanted to ask you out and I’m tempted to take you behind the bushes over there and make love to you.”
Ann snorted. “Better let me get on top then. I saw your knees earlier. You look like one of those priests who walk on their knees over stony ground to prove how much they love Jesus.” She grinned at me. “Plus I don’t think people ‘make love’ behind a bush. Behind a bush it is pretty much just fucking.”
God she is distracting.
“I want to do that again but I think we should be more careful.”
“I’m on the pill, Vince. I’m not stupid.”
“It’s not just pregnancy I worry about.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you’re afraid I might give you an STD? Cause you claim to have been a virgin up until sixteen hours ago.”
“You fucking relax for a change.” I figured I needed to sound outraged in order to make this work. “No, I’m not worried about you giving me anything. And yes I was a virgin but only in the sense my penis had never been inside a vagina. I just told you I went down on a girl a few months. I’ve had a couple girls go down on me too. I know it is low risk. I know it is stupid but I’d kill myself I thought I gave you anything.”
“Vince, I’m not worried about it.”
“I know but I am. I think we should use condoms. The last time I was with someone with any kind of real contact was a couple weeks ago. We’ll give it three months. I’ll get tested for everything, HIV – the works and if all is good, we can ditch the condoms. Unless you want to take a break from the pill.”
Ann looked skeptical. “What if we don’t last three months?”
“Then it won’t matter will it?”
“I think you’re being a little obsessive, though after watching you eat breakfast I’m not surprised.” She got up. “Okay, let’s go buy some condoms.”
It isn’t easy to smile, swimming across ocean swells but I manage it.
Ann had marched into the same Walgreen’s, God how I had been squirming inside. She had insisted it was her prerogative to pick the type and pay for them since the box clearly stated they were for “her pleasure”.
The old lady at the register could have been my landlady’s twin. Her scowl screamed disapproval. I nearly choked when Ann asked the old lady if she’d ever tried them and did they really increase pleasure. Butter would have melted in Ann’s mouth but the woman blushed and quit staring. Ann thanked her and waved goodbye.
“What an old bitch,” she hissed after the doors closed.
I try to remember how her hand felt in mine, how excited I was she was interested enough in me to stand up to the clucking hen of a clerk.
My hand scrapes the bottom. I pick my way between the rocks and rinse off under the public shower. There are no changing rooms at this small beach. I step behind “my” bush and quickly change into my running shorts and shoes. I squeeze as much water out of my trunks as I can, drop them in the bag, close it, and sling it over my shoulders.
I set off along the beach trail and my body, as it had while swimming, relaxes into the rhythm of my run. My mind is free to drift back, pole-vaulting over the years and the tears that separate me from the man, boy, I had once been.
Ann held my hand as we walked back to my apartment. I saw the curtain on my landlady’s back door twitch. Stealing some of Ann’s cheerful indifference to the judgment of others and her courage, I tossed the old biddy a wave as Ann went up the stairs ahead of me. She wasn’t wearing volleyball shorts today but her ass looked mighty fine anyway.
As soon as the door closed she turned and reached for the bottom of her shirt. I reached out and stopped her.
“Not so fast missy. I want to undress you myself.”
I kaçak casino pulled her close and we stood there kissing. I loved nipping at her lower lip, tugging it. I loved when she would retaliate by forcing her tongue deep inside my mouth. Her lips were soft and wet and her hair felt wonderful wrapped around my fingers.
My hands found their way under her shirt and caressed her lower back. I lowered my right hand to her butt and began to knead that gorgeous ass of hers. My other hand found its way to her bra strap. She reached back to help me unfasten it.
“Patience, Ann. Patience,” I whispered in her ear. She shivered and squealed the teeniest bit when I darted my tongue into her ear. Remembering how she enjoyed it last night, I forced her head over with my chin and kissed behind her ear and along her neck.
The hand on her ass pulled her closer. I put my left knee between her legs and pressed upward against her crotch while I forced my rapidly hardening cock against her leg. It was trapped in the left leg of my jeans. I broke our embrace long enough to pull it free, though I left my jeans on and buttoned.
I let go of her ass and both my hands found her breasts. I could feel her nipples, hard little gems, beneath her clothes.
“I can feel your nipples, all the way through your bra and shirt. I can feel how hard they are.” I wasn’t sure if that counted as talking dirty or not but it seemed important to tell her for some reason.
I lifted her shirt. Her bra was simple, plain white cotton. Her breasts were not large but they were perfect as far as I was concerned. She didn’t need a bra with railroad gauge steel undergirding to keep them up. No, just a simple white cotton bra did the trick.
I cupped her breasts in my hands and used my thumbs to lightly rub circles around her nipples through the fabric. That earned me the day’s first soft moan of pleasure. I lowered my head and pressed my mouth against the cotton and blew, forcing my hot breath through the cloth.
I pressed my tongue against her nipple and massaged it. I moved to her other breast and began to mouth her through her bra. I felt her start to reach behind her back and extend an arm to stop her. She moaned again and it was spiced with a hint of frustration.
I stood straight and slipped her shirt over her head. Her hands immediately reached behind her.
“Not yet,” I insisted as I grabbed her hands. I put them around my waist. “Patience.”
I lowered my mouth to her boob, primarily to tease her, and quickly pulled back to watch her face. I ran my fingertips over the soft skin of her cleavage. Carefully, so as to not pinch or poke, I worked my fingers inside the top of her bra. Flexing my fingers, her bra was pushed aside and her breast slipped free. I had a ridiculous mental image of a pea being popped out of its pod. I remember thinking I really was a fucking dork.
I began to massage Ann’s now exposed nipple with my thumb. I pulled my hand away long enough to wet my thumb and then began to slide it across and around her nipple. When more lubrication seemed to be in order, I held my thumb out to Ann and she eagerly took it into her mouth, sucking and nipping at the ball of it before I returned it to duty.
I wanted to taste her nipple but reminded myself to be patient. I began to kiss her again. One of her hands found its way back to my head. As we kissed, I carefully worked my hand into the other cup. Another flexing of the fingers and her other breast was exposed. Her breasts were trapped, pressed together and up by her bra. I pressed the palm of my hand against the nipple on that side, reluctant to break our kiss. My fingers pressed and pulled, but slowly and softly, at her breast.
When I finally broke the kiss, it was Ann who pulled my hand to her mouth and wet my thumb. As I began to caress her other nipple I indulged my desire to taste the one my fingers had abandoned. I began to play with her nipple with my mouth, trying to recall what she had seemed to like last night. Whatever I was doing was apparently okay because the hand on the back of my head tightened and pushed my face against her breast.
Her other hand began to stroke me through my jeans.
Unbidden, I remember how good it felt when the asshole softly bit my nipple. I almost shook my head, not wanting that fucker in my head right now. There was no part of me that wanted to hurt her. That was the difference I told myself. At first, I limited myself to tugging at her nipple with my only my lips. That seemed okay so I very gingerly tried the same thing with my teeth. Ann’s fingers clutched at my hair.
Without surrendering my hold on her breast I asked, “Did I hurt you?”
Her fingers tightened in my hair. “No,” she whimpered. “But it is so intense.”
I played with her boob a while longer. The last nip was a little harder and she gasped. I stepped to her side, anxious to make up for orally neglecting her other boob. As I began to play with it, I pressed my right hand over the front of her shorts and squeezed. I pressed my fingers over the zipper, pushing her shorts and panties into her slit. I had to constantly remind myself to go slow. Don’t squeeze too hard, don’t pull too hard, don’t bite too hard. The more desperate I became, the more my desire for her was stoked and the harder it became to control myself.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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