Norma Jean

by Amanda Heath

  “Umm…maybe…you…yeah…” she sighs as I place more kisses up her neck. When I come to her ear lobe I gently pull it into my mouth and bite down gently. I flick it with my tongue and I hear her gasp. I let go and smile as I rub my nose along her cheek heading straight for those heart shaped lips. God she smells so good.

  I look into her violet eyes and see the storm of pure lust, which matches my own. I can’t figure it out, why I feel like this. Maybe it’s because I have never had sex before and Gina had gotten me worked up at the party. She pulled me out onto the dance floor and ground her entire body into mine. It was so hot and sexy. She got too sick to go through with anything though. Not that I would have had sex with her, I refuse to go down that road unless I’m in love. I can’t do what my dad did. I can’t have mindless sex like that and hurt people around me.

  I don’t think anymore as I press my lips against hers. They are soft and subtle, starting a fire in my body I can’t hope to put out. My dick comes to life fast like it has vengeance on its mind for my virginity. At first it is gentle but I can’t handle gentle, so I shove my tongue through her slightly parted lips and smash into her tongue. She pulls her hands through my hair pulling it slightly behind my head. I lift up from the floor never leaving her lips and climb on top of her. I hold myself up on one arm and run the other from her side, past her breast and through her long ass hair. God it is so soft.

  I suck her tongue into my mouth and nibble gently as I lower myself down more fully on her. I take my hand out of her hair and pull her leg up over my hip. She moves the other one on her own and I groan as my erect cock comes in contact with her warm heat. She lets a sigh past our lips as I start to move against her. It’s soft and it’s torture. But I wouldn’t move harder if you paid me to. Her hips move with me and I feel a pressure build up in my spine. I’m going to blow if I don’t stop. God I don’t want to stop. That’s when I stop kissing her and lean over the couch to puke up everything I drank tonight.

  *****

  When I wake up the next morning I can barely see out of my eyes but there is something poking me in the face. There is a red headed woman with her finger in my face. Oh shit. Mom. “What’s going on?” I ask her.

  That’s when I feel something shift underneath me. What the fuck is that? “Well I would like to know what the hell you two are doing?” Mom questions. Two?

  “Umm I fell asleep in the wrong bed?” I hear a throaty voice say next to my face. Who the fuck is that?

  “Well Norma Jean I would say so.” Mom states. “Though I would like to know what you are doing home Chance?” she throws her hazel eyes my way.

  I feel all the blood drain my face as I become paler then I usually am. “Creed has a steady girlfriend and I didn’t want to listen to them having sex all night.” I’m in a bed with Norma Jean Davis. The freak of our school and the reason I hate myself more than I hate my dad. What the hell did I drink last night?

  “Can you like get off of me now?” Norma asks me softly. That’s when I open my eyes all the way and realize that I’m pretty much holding her hostage in my bed. She is laying on her back and I’m more than half way on top of her. One of my legs is thrust between hers and I realize I’m not wearing a shirt. Though I’m still in my jeans, but it’s not like I can hide my morning wood.

  “Sorry.” I mutter as I sit up too fast and my head spins. I feel as if I might puke but I push it back. The dizziness leaves but I feel as if someone is playing music really loud in my head. I feel the bed dip as Norma gets up to leave. I peek my eyes up and zone in on her ass as she sways out of the room. Fuck I have got to stop this obsession I have with her.

  Mom glares at me all the way out of my room. I guess she can tell I have no idea what the hell happened. Since Norma has all her clothes on I’m guessing not much. If I had known she was Macy’s babysitter, I would have stayed far away from this house last night. Being drunk there is no telling what I said to her or what the fuck I did. God. I’m going to kill Creed.

  I force my feet into my adjoining bathroom and strip off my jeans and boxers. I step into the luke warm water and scrub the drunken night from my body. I don’t remember anything after leaving Creeds house, so I’m hoping Norma can fill me in. Though I don’t really want to talk to her since she hates my guts and tells me every chance she gets. It hurts to hear those things come out of her mouth, but I think it’s less painful then what I put her through.

  I find myself palming my erection while leaning my head against the cold tile wall of the shower stall. I close my eyes and all I see is her. Her ass when she walks out of my room and then I think of the way she felt underneath me this morning. And somewhere I get the sound of her moaning and sighing and the feel of her soft hair as I run my fingers through it.

  It doesn’t take me long to get off…it never does when I think about her. I know I’m sick, I’m a fucking stalker. I’m obsessed and it’s not healthy. I don’t even know why either. I hardly ever talk to her. If I try she throws her hate and anger in my face. I know she has a right too, but damn. I don’t want to want her like this. I have tried to make myself stop but every day at school I find myself looking for her. I end up with my eyes on her and watching every move she makes. It’s so fucking insane.

  I get out of the shower and walk into my room with a towel wrapped around my waist. I pull out a black polo and dark washed jeans and a clean pair of boxers and socks. I get dressed right before someone knocks on my bedroom door. “Come in.” I say hoping it’s my mom.

  When mom walks through the door I breathe a sigh of relief. “I want you gone, and you better stay that way until Sunday afternoon.” She points her finger at me and walks right back out the door.

  Chapter 2

  Norma

  Last night was the weirdest, craziest, freakiest thing that has ever happened to me. To be honest I kind of think I lost my mind. There is no way I made out with Chance Duncan on his living room couch. And no way had I sat there for an hour cleaning up his puke before his mom got home. And no way had I gone in to check on him where he pulled me into bed with him and proceeded to hold me hostage until his mom woke us up this morning.

  That was a fun conversation to have this afternoon. Stacy wanted to know what the hell had happened and I lied through my teeth. I’m the perfect liar so she didn’t even suspect I wasn’t being truthful.

  I pretty much told her that I was so tired the night before, I went into the wrong room to lay down. When I woke up this morning, Chance was on top of me and she was giving us a death stare. I mean she knows us so I don’t think she would have even believed me if I told her what really happened.

  She left about an hour ago for work. I’m sitting in the living room watching Macy play with her toys while I slowly run a finger over my lips. I can still feel him there. I can still feel his fingers in my hair and his hips between my legs. I have been kissed before, but not like that. It was insane! I just hope he was too drunk to remember what the hell happened.

  Around nine I put Macy down for the night. I got all my homework done while she took a nap this afternoon. So I decide to sit in front of the television and watch Pawn Stars. I like to laugh at the people who seriously think they are going to get full price for their item. It’s a pawn shop! They have to make a profit and these people act like that isn’t common sense.

  Headlights pull up into the driveway and I feel my breathing get labored. No freaking way. I hear a car door shut and ten seconds later the front door opening. I hope it’s Stacy. Please let it be Stacy.

  When he steps into the living room I can’t help but get light headed. Why does the boy have to look so damn good? His hair is pulled out of his face and tied behind his head. The sharp planes of his face stand out more and his hazel eyes search me out in the room. The look he is giving me has this strange effect on my body. Like there is a fire running through me taking away any thought I have that doesn’t include him. Or the way he feels on top of me. Or the way he kisses like a starved man.

>   “You’re not supposed to be here.” I whisper out. I’m not stupid or a prude. I know what that look means. He wants me. What bugs me about it though is why? Why treat me like complete shit for months and then all of a sudden decide I’m worth heated glances and drunken make out sessions on a couch.

  “I know.” Only two words. No explanation for why he is here. He hasn’t ever talked much in all the years I have known him. He speaks in short sentences and looks. His eyes are so expressive you don’t really have to hear him speak.

  “Then why are you?” I say louder than I did before.

  “I want to know what happened last night.” He says in that deep velvety voice.

  “You know what happened last night.” The confusion on his face tells me he doesn’t remember everything. But the heat in those eyes tells me he remembers something.

  “I really don’t.” He steps all the way into the living room and I take in his white polo that fits tight across his muscular chest. His wool pea coat is hanging on his arm like he just took it off. His dark wash jeans hug his legs showing off the powerful muscles he has hidden behind the fabric.

  I decide to be bold. Something I have picked up on since the first day he hurt me. I have this overwhelming need to hurt him too, all of a sudden. I want him to live with this pain I have. I want him to live with pain that I have caused him and I know just how to do it.

  You’re like yeah right. Just hear me out. I’m not an idiot nor am I blind. I see the way he looks at me. I know he follows me with his eyes everywhere I go. I know he feels guilt for what he put me through and I thought for a while that’s what it was about. Like he wanted to get my forgiveness or something. After last night I know he is attracted to me. He shouldn’t have shown me his cards because I’m ready to play a grown up game.

  I will make him fall in love with me. Then I will rip his heart out of his chest. It’s the perfect revenge.

  I get up off the couch and slowly make my way over to him. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as I approach. He shifts uncomfortably on his feet and it sends a small thrill through me that I make him nervous. “You want me to give you details?” I ask sweetly when I get within inches of his body.

  He nods his head slowly like he can’t figure out what I’m doing. I really don’t know what I’m doing but I have read enough books and watched enough movies to get the gist of it.

  “You came home last night really drunk. You came in here while I was asleep and got down on your knees in front of me.” I pause to run my finger down his shirt. “I woke up to find you hovering over my face and as I asked you what you were doing, you leaned in and kissed me.” I start to whisper this next part as I guide my hand around his neck. “It was soft at first, gentle even. Then I ran my fingers through your hair and pulled. After that you were suddenly on top of me with your hands in my hair and kissing me like you would drown without my lips. Then you pulled my legs around your waist and started grinding.” I stand on the tips of my toes and say the next part softly against his lips. “Softness to hardness.” He visibly shudders and I smile on the inside. I pull away to finish the rest of my story. “Then you puked all over the living room floor. I got you up to your room and spent an hour down here cleaning up the puke. I went to make sure you weren’t drowning in anymore and that’s when you pulled me in the bed with you. I tried to get out but every time I almost got away you would pull me back under you. You know what happened after that.”

  His face is pulled into a look of disgust and I wonder what he is more disgusted by. Puking or kissing me. “That’s really gross. I’m sorry you had to clean up my puke.”

  “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for your mom, because I know you would never have cleaned it up.” I turn away from him and go back to sit on the couch.

  “Thank you.” Is all he says. He continues to just stand there almost lost in thought. I want to give him a snarky comment but I hold back. I’ll have to be nice to him to get my plan underway.

  He finally comes out of his thoughts and moves to join me on the couch. My body starts to feel electrified when he sits right beside me. We are touching from the shoulder all the way down to our knees. I want to be immune to him but I know I never will be. That kiss last night made sure of that. Hormones are a bitch.

  I change the channel on the TV to some romance I have no interest in watching. I want him to get whatever he has on his mind off of his chest. “Just say it. The suspense is killing me.”

  I turn my head to look at him. His head is tipped down and he is studying his fingers like they hold all the answers. I decide to give him an olive branch and tip his head up with my finger on his chin. I catch his eyes, “Just say it. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

  He scrapes his top teeth over his bottom lip and I start to tingle. Yes, I just said tingle. I’m ashamed of myself since it’s like the most girly thing that has ever left my mouth. “I don’t know what this is. I don’t know why I feel this way. We don’t know each other. You hate my guts. Not that I blame you, but why would we make out and…like it?”

  I chuckle and really I didn’t think he would be so dense about it. “It’s called attraction. Though I don’t know why you’re attracted to me. I remember a time when you called me zithead every day for weeks.”

  He flinches and I get a sense of satisfaction at his discomfort. “I was young and stupid. I didn’t know how to handle things and you were the easiest target. I know that doesn’t make it right but I wish I hadn’t said those things. You didn’t deserve it.”

  I want to tell him he’s damn right I didn’t deserve it but I refrain. My heart even warms to him a little with the “I wish I hadn’t said those things,” comment. Wanting to take them back shows a feeling of guilt. I want him to feel guilty. I want him to hate himself as much as I hate myself. “I’m over it. It was years ago.” Lie.

  His hazel eyes look deep into mine. I see hope swimming around in there and I can only wonder what he sees in mine. “I just want you to forgive me.” He doesn’t add “so I can live easier”, but I know it’s what he wants. He should know I would never forgive him.

  “You can work on it. Maybe one day I will.” Lie. He gives me a half smile and I feel myself show him one in return. This might be easier than I thought.

  I turn my head away from him and back on the TV. And like the guy he is, I feel his hand creep up on to my thigh. His fingers twine with mine and I shiver at the feel of his breath on my neck. I turn my face slowly towards his. He is so close to me, it kind of freaks me out. I don’t get this close to other people. I don’t want them to get a good look at my face. He rubs his nose along mine and says, “Kiss me.”

  I admit my breathing becomes panting at his softly spoken words. “Why?” I ask looking right at his lips. They look soft yet firm and I have phantom feelings ghost across my own at the memory of last night.

  “Because I want to remember it.” Butterflies go off in my stomach. I don’t know where those came from. I don’t want butterflies. I just want the lust, using him is just as bad as what he did to me. But I refuse to feel anything but lust and hate for him.

  Chance

  I can see she wants to with the way she is breathing and her lustful eyes staring at my lips. It’s truly amazing the color of her eyes. I have never seen it before except on her mom’s face. I didn’t think they were her real color until I looked it up online. Elizabeth Taylor was famous for them. It is so unbelievably beautiful on this girl. This girl who I spent years hurting because of my own pain. She doesn’t think she is beautiful, but she is. Oh she is.

  I finally get tired of the waiting game and place my hand on the back of her head, threading my fingers through her hair. I push her lips to mine and move them softly against hers. She places her hand on my shoulder and clutches my shirt. I groan in the back of my throat as she slips her tongue into my mouth. They tangle together and I find myself pushing her down on the couch with my upper body.

  I just wanted it to be soft and innoce
nt, this is not. It’s like she pushes every button I didn’t know I had. She moans when I put most of my weight down on top of her. I want to take off this shirt and see what her body looks like. She pulls the holder out of my hair and gently tugs on it bringing a little bit of pain and pleasure.

  I groan when she slips her hands under my shirt and slides them up my torso. I take my hand from her hair and slip it under her shirt. I hold myself up with my other arm so I can take full advantage of this. Her skin is so soft and it erupts with goose flesh as I slide my hand back and forth over her flat stomach. There is a dangly belly button ring and I gently tug on it making her arch her back. Both of her legs wrap around my waist and I fight to not thrust my dick against her warm jeans.

  “Take off your shirt.” She whispers against my lips and I don’t hesitate to lift up and tear it over my head. She takes her time to look over my chest and stomach and when she licks those swollen lips I groan.

  “What are you doing to me, smalls?” I say right before I start kissing her again. I finally lose the battle of not thrusting against her. I think my brain is about to run out the door and my dick will take over. I’m not ready for this. I have made out plenty of times don’t get me wrong, but this is different. She is different. I’m so lost in what we are doing, someone could walk in right now and I wouldn’t know.

  She starts pushing me off of her and I feel like I a kicked a puppy. “Macy.” Is all she says when I give her a confused look. That’s when I hear my niece crying. Norma scrambles out from under me and shoots off the couch. “Coming baby girl!” she lets out in a calming voice as I sit on the couch trying to catch my breath.

  She disappears around the corner and I wait to hear her go up the stairs before I pull on my shirt and leave the room. Instead of heading after her to see Macy, I head for the front door picking my keys up off the end table. Macy is still crying after I shut the front door. It hurts to leave her crying like that. Though mom would never let Norma take care of her unless she knows what she is doing.