by M. C. Cerny
“Well, I know that now. Too bad you weren’t with us then. Do you want to start yelling at people in your yard next?”
“What?”
“You. Old Yeller.” She poked me in the chest clearly not sober or coherent to have this conversation. “You wanna sit on your porch with a shotgun and yell at people. Bang! Bang!” She waved her hands around and I pulled them down securing her closer against me.
I wished I had been with her too, if anything to protect her and avoid this whole mess. Though how does one know their girlfriend is going to leave the house and procure drugs accidentally? She’s my very own free spirited Phoebe. I must be Ross, and as uptight as ever.
I sighed pulling her against me tight. “Sleep it off, Cheech.” I’m positive she has no idea what I’m referencing and it doesn’t take long for her soft snore to vibrate against my neck. Her muffled sounds lulled me down with her. It’s peaceful in her arms despite the afternoon drama and I spend the next hour developing a crick in my back from her too small bed wondering if this is worth the aggravation.
23
Lia
Whit slammed the door to his jeep and I watched him walk over to the other side tossing my bag in the back before getting in. He sat in the vehicle a full minute before starting up and driving toward his house. He’s pissed, but can I really blame him. Shame permeated my pores and I waited for him to launch into a discussion about being an adult and how drugs are bad. I knew this.
I had to lean on him to slip pants on over my boy shorts and agree to come home with him so he could as he elegantly put it, watch my immature ass detox. The words hurt and I didn’t argue back. I bit my lip and took it on the chin feeling like I deserved it. I just wanted him to stop being grumpy with me. My nerves frayed and I felt weepy. Stupid pot. Stupid feelings.
My phone was in my hands and I slid the rectangle over and over in my grasp for lack of anything better to do. I glanced over at his hard profile. I think he’s more angry about this then my parents would be, but I don’t want to test that theory anytime soon.
“Are you going to say anything?” My voice sounded meek and small. My head was loopy and foggy. I glanced at my outfit. Nothing matched. Whit dressed me but I was the one who reached for the clothes. Holey black sweatpants from Angels sported sequined wings on my ass, a gift from my mother when I was sixteen. My tank top had polka dots and the red sweatshirt was Whit’s.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.” He mumbled taking a turn a little more roughly than normal. He probably shouldn’t drive angry. I’d offer to drive, but I think he’d have a nuclear fit.
“Are you that angry?” I winced. His whole body jerked tense and unrelenting. He was more than angry. I could kick myself for going with Dinah.
“I’m going to pretend for a moment you didn’t ask me that.” His jaw clenched.
I inhaled an unsteady breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry, Whit.”
“I am too.” He said.
I turned toward him unsure what he was actually sorry for. My stomach clenched again and I focused on breathing. Clearly, I wasn’t the sort who enjoyed getting high when my body felt like this. Lesson learned the hard way.
The drive was over in no time and he escorted me inside his house. He dumped my bag on the floor and marched me over to the couch. I sat down with my hands between my knees feeling like I was in school at the principal’s office. I wondered how he planned on discipling me and I started to snicker inappropriately.
“I’d like to know what the hell is so funny.” He wasn’t laughing and the more serious he looked the harder it was for me to hold back. It was like unicorns were having a rave inside my body. Peals of laughter consumed me.
I cleared my throat wiping tears from my eyes mirroring his stern look. I lowered my voice and said, “Are you going to spank me, daddy?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake grow up, Amelia.”
“I can’t. I’m only twenty and I’m freaking hungry.” All I can think about are tacos from Burrito Barn and how we should have gone there before coming to his house.
“Are you kidding me right now?” He parked his ass on the couch next to me and hauled me up in his arms. A slight shake gets my attention, but my stomach grumbles.
“I could eat like half a dozen tacos with all the fixin’s please.” His hands roamed over my body before capturing my face in his hold. Fingers traced the lines of my eyebrows and the curve of my cheek. His eyes studied me intently before he rested his forehead against mine. He closed them before steadying his breath with several rough inhales and exhales.
Whit sounded like he was grinding his jaw as he spoke low. “I am so mad at you right now for putting yourself in danger, but all I want to do is kiss you and thank god you’re okay.”
I tried to comprehend the gravity of what he was saying but my muddled mind couldn’t focus. I didn’t know if this was normal and doubted if I’d try this again to test it out considering this occurred as an accidental potting thanks to my feckless roommate.
I palmed his face. This man was my world. “You know I love you, Whittaker Jones.” I kissed his lips, a soft press of tissue and then laid myself over his lap feeling sleepy. His hands raised letting me settle in before running through my hair with gentle acuity. I rested my head for a moment needing to think on this and drifted off discerning how wonderful he could be when he pulled the stick out of his butt.
24
Whit
She’s mad as hell eyeballing me as she sucks on the blow pop between her pouty pink lips. It’s a damn distraction when I want to have a serious conversation with her. If she doesn’t stop doing that shit with her mouth I would snatch that blow pop from her.
She’s been detoxed. Fed. Bathed. Now I wanted my peace of mind. I don’t know where she gets off giving me stink eye when she left me high and dry with a confession of her love and no way to respond.
“Well?” She said, popping the cherry red pop from her mouth. I swallowed back the air threatening to choke me like the fool I am. She’s twenty and I’m… well I’m certainly old enough to know better.
“Amelia, I’m sorry. I overreacted.” If you can call going ape shit overreacting, then yeah, sure. I had my moments to act like an idiot caveman, but I wasn’t apologizing for it.
“Whit, you made it sound like I was getting high on purpose and while I’m sure plenty of other college age students do it with no consequences themselves, I actually wasn’t doing it. Even when I tried to explain myself, you refused to listen to anything I had to say.” Her body appeared as defeated as her tone sounded.
“In my defense, you trying to explain while you’re giggling profusely and asking me to take you to the Burrito Barn for… what was it? Yeah, a half dozen tacos.”
“Okay, in retrospect that sounds way worse than it actually is because let’s face it–those tacos are banging.” Her smile disarmed me but I can’t stop the anger I’m feeling at how the entire situation occurred in the first place.
“I’m not disagreeing to the validity of the tacos deliciousness. It’s the context in which they came about.”
“I’m sorry too.” She mumbles between sucks and licks of that damn pop I want to crack between my teeth.
She makes me feel destructive.
She makes me hornier than a teen boy with his first dirty magazine.
Clearly I’ve lost my mind.
“I’m sorry I called you immature.”
“I’m sorry I called you an old fart face.” She had the grace to at least look sheepish and while it’s all just words, it’s not at the same time. I figured we needed to even the playing field. I didn’t want her to see me as some old dude busting his nut in her because she was young, available, and made me recapture a decade of my life I thought I lost. Maybe I needed to tone it down or show her I wasn’t as crotchety as she thought I was. Smoking pot wasn’t the end of the world and I knew that. I didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I guess I hadn’t expected
it. It was everything else around it that scared me, the irresponsible roommate, the dickish football player, and his asshole friends.
She made me feel ten years younger than I do chasing after her and way more jealous than any man should feel. Those are my insecurities though, not hers.
“Come here babe.” I took her hand and lead her into the living room. She felt delicate in my grasp and I memorized the soft texture so different from mine.
“What are you doing?” She uttered holding the pop, her face cocked to the side and eyes owlishly blinking. I lost it a little bit and the rumble in my chest made her step back. I stepped forward crowding her. I took the pop from her hand and dunked it into my mouth rolling it around sucking the sweet and tart flavor made slick from being in her mouth. It was delicious.
“Hey!” She shouted, but I don’t give it back. Instead, I make love to that blow pop with my mouth, swirling my tongue around the cherry ball. I watched her eyes round like saucers.
“That was mine.” She whined.
“I like sucking on things that belong to you. So sue me.” I taunted her licking the pop letting it jut from my mouth.
“Give it back.” She hopped up and down.
I held it out of reach from her shaking my head no.
“Mmm, cherry.” I arched my brow daring her to come and steal it. If she could tease, so could I.
She whimpered. “Whittaker.”
“My favorite.” I licked the pop again and then traced her lips with the wet candy coloring her mouth with sweet lipstick in a dark pink candy gloss. Standing next to the couch I urged her to sit, her face upturned to mine wet and begging to be kissed.
“Yeah, mine too,” I admitted easing her down to sit on the edge of the couch.
“Whit.” Her hands reached for my biceps, but I gently pushed her back on the couch leaning over her. This was my show right now.
“Take your clothes off Amelia.”
Her hands reached for her pants and undo the top button followed by the zipper shimmying out of the tight denim. Her knee still has her battle wound from our hike and I kneeled down to kiss it softly watching her eyes slowly flutter shut.
Her throat bobbed and I wanted to kiss her everywhere as she licked her lips wetting the pink to a darker shade. I tugged the hem of her shirt.
“Take it all off.” She lifted the shirt over her head and unclasped the back of her bra letting the cups fall down and free her breasts. I wrenched on her underwear none too gently pulling them down her legs. She’s neatly groomed between her thighs and the bare shaving was so close to her skin that I knew it would softly rub against my face.
“What are you going to do?” She asked, her right brow lifting slightly in question. It sounded like a challenge, but the way Amelia bit her lips said otherwise shyly.
“I think I’m going to have myself a treat.” I get real close to her pussy lips and let my tongue graze them. She puts her head back groaning and arching toward me.
“You’re going to lick me to death.” Her chest panted and her voice rose higher.
I laughed, “Something like that.” I braced my shoulders between her legs opening her up. I sucked on the lollipop again getting it good and wet with my saliva. The cherry taste was tart and sweet, exactly how I planned to make Amelia right here on the couch. I gave her a good long teasing lick between her legs. The sexy shiver she elicited gets me hard, but I’m not having that kind of sex with her right now.
Kissing her clit I licked a slow circle around her hole. I add the pop letting the cherry ball swirl around her nether lips coating them between licks and kisses. Her head thrashes on the couch and she grabbed a pillow stuffing it over her face. That’s okay, I planned on making her scream, the pillow would be useless. She’s wetter now and I placed the lollipop at her entrance moving it back and forth pressing it gently watching it disappear inside. Her cunt squeezes it between her gasps making it disappear until I tugged it out. She’s tighter than a padlock and wetter than a waterfall. I loved it.
“Oh my God!” She threw the pillow clear across the room knocking something to the floor. I scanned over my shoulder and as long as she’s not setting the house on fire, I think we’re golden. Lia shifted her body up on her elbows wobbling upward watching me.
I smirked, “Maybe you’ll cream my cherry pie?”
“You sir have a filthy mouth.” Her face was beet red in a combination of embarrassment and thrilling pleasure that only comes from hot pink cheeks and swollen clits that crave attention.
“Feel good?” I asked pressing the pop deep and then pulling out to lick and suck her flavor combined with the cherry before I put it back inside stretching her as I rolled it around hitting her sensitive spot.
She’s shaking and glistening with sex sweat when she answered me. “So good.”
She sinks back down into the couch cushions. She’s so wet the pop slides easily between her folds fulling a fantasy I didn’t know I harbored. How many licks would it take to get to the center of her pleasure. I’m fascinated to find out. Our eyes locked on each other and her pretty hair spreads out around her like a field of violets. She huffed and whined so close to the finish line.
“You’re slacking, Pixie.”
“Do that thing again.” She reached for me but I put her off.
“This one?” I taunted her by slowly pressing in deep and them popping it out only to start all over again.
“Yessss.” Her head thrashed about tangling purple locks.
“Come on Amelia, show me how you come, baby.”
“Please Whit. Please.” Her nails embed deeply in the sofa and her muscles convulsed rigidly. I lay the lollipop between her breasts because I’m not done with that yet. I want to paint her nipples and then suck them clean while she rides me later. I have an entire deviant afternoon planned for my girl.
I kissed both sides of her inner thighs licking my way to her center. My tongue lapped at her catching her release in sloppy slurps. Incoherent mumbles filled the room like a broken record minus the vinyl scratching.
“You’re not done yet.” I hooked a finger inside her crawling up her body to reach her breasts and the pulse beating in her neck like a hummingbird fluttering its wings.
“Mmm?”
“Nope. I’m going to turn you into my mindless little zombie from all the orgasms I’m going to give you.”
She panted, “I’m going to die.”
“But it’s going to be such a happy death.”
I accidentally bit her cherry lollipop and had to start all over again. Turns out the number of licks was fairly inconsistent, but I wasn’t disappointed in making multiple scientific attempts.
25
Lia
I’m working in the photo lab at school waiting for the shots from our hike to develop when my phone buzzed disrupting the quiet peace of the dark room. The room where Whit snuck in yesterday to make out with me between work shifts. My breasts felt heavy, my nipples uncomfortable in cotton and lace while my belly ached and my core slicked thinking about how Whit aggressively put me over the counter and slipped my pants down easing himself inside me. He smacked my ass and made me promise to never go to the farmer’s market with Dinah again. I was only too eager to agree since he wasn’t over this.
I turned my phone over to see a text from Whit letting me know he was looking forward to tonight. We bantered back and forth both in good moods and good places. We’d been busy after the accidental potting getting back into a new normal. A new normal that include some hot and heavy sex and my mid-term exams.
I was happy and sated thinking about it. My hips had matching twin bruises from where they hit the counter at the right angle. A perverse part of me pressed my hips against the table letting the sting of the bruises spread through my nerve endings. My body hummed daydreaming about my grumpy forest ranger and his thick arms built like tree trunks.
Tonight we have plans to try out a new restaurant in town, but first I want to get these photos developed. Sure I cou
ld learn all the techniques of digital photography and I was, but there was something so fulfilling about the drawn out process of developing film. It required patience and a different skill set from digital, more so than just a good eye. I hummed to myself waiting to pull out the photos and hang them.
I wanted to share with Whit about the photo exhibition the school was putting on and the chance to go to Haiti and photograph the work the Humanities students were providing as a documentary. I hadn’t been able to catch my dad at a good time to discuss the cost of the trip and my minimum wage campus job in the photo lab would only defray the basic fees. I still had airfare, accommodations, and food to figure out.
Admittedly my head was in the clouds getting ready for our dinner date. I whirred around the apartment dressing about three times before setting on a dress I like. It’s casual but pretty and flirty in light indigo color I think matches Whit’s eyes. Dinah isn’t anywhere around which is a relief. I can’t imagine that, the two of them bumping into each other and having words. Dinah has been awkward and Whit was pretty forthcoming in telling me she threw herself almost bodily at him while I was expelling my stomach. I believe it, but I also believe Whit when he said he had zero interest in her.
I’m so excited waiting for him that I hawked the window watching him park his jeep down the street. I don’t wait for him to come to the door ad jet outside practically bowling him over.
“Baby.” He grunted half picking me up and twirling me in the direction of the restaurant we’re eating at. I kissed his slack lips and in my happiness to see him after a trying week I don’t even notice flat demeanor until much, much later.
26
Whit
The restaurant I chose is close to Lia’s place. She’s telling me about entering a photography exhibition at the urging of her professor along with a trip to Haiti, but admittedly, I’m only half listening because I still can’t get the idea of her and Dinah half-baked out of my mind. I was there once. I was no saint in my teenage years after losing my parents and growing up with my grandfather, but still.