Tawny – 8:45 PM
Earlier this week I was taking Motrin all the time and keeping my legs crossed whenever possible to help alleviate the soreness between my legs; by Wednesday I was, thankfully, feeling much better. The throbbing that resonates there now is a different sort of ache – it spreads outward like a traveling heat wave, igniting every cell in my body until the need for Kyle to really touch me becomes almost overwhelming.
The decision to bring him back here had been based on the assumption we’d have at least a couple of hours together alone. Beatrix went home for the weekend, and Harumi is always out well past midnight on Friday nights. I suppose there’s a chance tonight could be the exception to that rule, but I doubt it.
I cling to Kyle with everything I have as he laces his fingers at the small of my back and pulls the length of my body against his. My mind is whirling as I scramble to work out logistics. The only hitch I foresee stems from the fact I don’t keep condoms around – maybe Kyle will have one in his pocket like he did last time?
Enough worrying, though – now isn’t the time for reason and logic. I take a deep breath to relax my shoulders and push all extraneous thoughts to the periphery, allowing myself to be sucked into the moment. I use the tip of my tongue to trace the edge of his upper lip, and Kyle groans softly in my mouth, fisting his hand in my shirt. I slide my hands up under his t-shirt, pressing against his stomach and feeling up the sides of his ribs. He breaks our lip lock only long enough to strip the shirt off over his head, then finds my mouth again.
A moment later he breaks away again, panting, and peers down at me, his eyes darting across my face like he’s reading a book. “How much time do we have?” he asks.
I glance at the clock on my desk, then back up at him. “Probably a few hours.”
He holds my face tightly between his hands and says, “Just tell me if you want me to stop” – then his fingers go to the waistband of my jeans and begin to unbutton them. I suck in a breath to steady the throb pulsing through my body and wait for Kyle to finish undressing me. He gently removes each article of clothing, beginning with my pants and shirt and ending with my bra and panties.
He begins to unfasten his own belt, but he willingly surrenders control when I nudge his hands away and take over. Once we’re both completely naked we stand only six inches apart, our shoulders rising and falling with every exaggerated breath, wordlessly challenging one another to refrain from touching for as long as we can. My eyes move to his erection, and his sweep from my face down to my breasts and then my crotch.
I’m momentarily distracted by the glare of the lights through the window, and Kyle watches as I slip away long enough to draw the drapes; as I tug them into place he turns to check the lock on the door. A frenzy ensues when we meet back in the middle; we collapse in a furious tangle of limbs on my bed, desperate to have us much of our respective surface areas in contact as possible. I gasp when Kyle’s fifth appendage slaps between my legs, and I can feel myself dripping in anticipation of having him inside me again.
He peels himself off me only halfway, allowing enough space to reach between us and rub his fingers through my wetness. “Are you sore at all?” he asks with some concern.
I shake my head. “Not anymore.”
In response he smashes his lips against mine with renewed fervor; he grips himself and swipes the head of his penis up and down between my folds. We both cry out in surprise and rapture when the tip of it accidentally slips in. Immediately Kyle stops moving. He lifts himself up on his elbows above me, his face panic-stricken, but he doesn’t pull out like I expect him to.
“Oh God,” he murmurs. “Fuck, that feels so good.” His eyelids flutter shut as he rocks forward minutely, driving in the tiniest bit deeper. My insides are far more accommodating this time – the feel of him stretching me open, pushing against my lubricated walls is intoxicating – God, how badly I want him to keep going. But at the same time, we both know he should stop.
“Tell me to stop, Tawny,” he says softly through gritted teeth. He hangs his head in shame or exertion – I can’t tell which. “I probably can’t do it on my own,” he admits feebly. I can feel him tunneling in just slightly further as he speaks, and I wish like anything I could tell him to keep pushing deeper – but I know I can’t.
“Stop,” I croak, so softly I’m not even sure any sound came out. Kyle’s eyes swivel back up to meet mine, and slowly he draws out of me, the air whooshing from his lungs as he climbs off of me. He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to me, and buries his face in his hands. I sit up and lightly touch the back of his shoulder, eager to comfort him in some way.
He breathes in and out several times before turning his face to look at me. I can’t help glancing down at his lap and making note of his sustained arousal – in fact, unless I’m imagining things, I almost think I can see it pulsing up and down slightly, still rigid and swollen. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid to.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers finally, his voice thick with emotion. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “Trust me…I wanted you to keep going.”
He stares at me as if he’s trying to decide whether I’m lying. “You did?” he asks.
I nod. “Definitely.”
He nods once, then something else seems to register with him – something bad. “Shit, I don’t even have a condom on me,” he groans, driving the heels of his palms into his eyes in clear frustration.
I clear my throat and cast my eyes down at the ground and my cotton candy blue toenails. There doesn’t seem to be a good way to phrase my next question.
“Kyle…” I begin. I can feel his eyes on me, but I’m too mortified to meet them. “Have you been checked… Do you know – if you have any… STDs?” I almost sound like I’m hiccupping.
He wraps his hand around my upper leg and gives it a squeeze. “Yes, I’ve been checked,” he says, “and I swear to you I’m clean.”
I chance a sidelong glance at him – his eyes are boring into me with every appearance of sincerity. I let out a pent up exhale and say, “Me, too.”
He reaches across me to my opposite shoulder and squares me to face him. “I’ve always worn a condom,” he says. “Always.” He wets his lips with his tongue and says carefully, “Why are you asking me this?”
I bite my lip, thinking it through before I respond. “I have an IUD,” I say finally. “I’ve had it for a couple of years to help regulate my periods… Sooo I can’t get pregnant.”
I watch as understanding dawns and his expression changes slowly from one of anguish to a sly, comprehending smile. He won’t say anything, though – I can tell he’s afraid to verbally fill in the blanks, in case his assumption is incorrect.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and say hoarsely, “Maybe…we could try it without the condom this time?”
He twists around so suddenly, pinning me against the bed, I feel slightly dizzy. My heart flutters as I gaze up at him. “Think about what you’re saying, Tawny,” he says gently. “I won’t let you make any decisions you’ll end up regretting later just to please me. There’s no way in hell we’re having sex unless you can convince me this is, beyond a doubt, what. You. Want.”
God, yes. The fire smoldering in his eyes, his tight grip on my wrists, his commanding tone – all of it has me so turned on I can hardly see straight. My hips buck against him; I feel like a caged animal warring frantically for its release.
“It’s what I want,” I say, my voice ragged. I free my hands and use them to guide Kyle downward, pressing him over the top of me until he’s again straining against my entrance. “Please,” I plead.
Kyle – 9:00 PM
Every muscle, tendon and ligament in my body is strained to the snapping point as I hold myself taut over Tawny’s prostrate body. I’ve never felt so detached from the rational, thinking part of my brain – something far more primitive and bestial has taken over.
“Say it,”
I hiss just outside Tawny’s ear, rocking my hips forward so my cock presses temptingly against her opening, threatening to push through at any moment.
“I want you to fuck me,” she whispers.
I freeze. FUCK, did she really just say that?! It’s beyond anything I could ever have imagined – such vulgarity escaping the softness of her prim, sweet lips causes desire to rip through me at terminal velocity, causing my bones to quake and my toes to curl.
I drive into her, pushing all the way in, feeling her wrapped around me in the glorious, unequivocal absence of a thin latex barrier. I can feel everything – every twitch, every spasm, every squeeze, every goddamn vibration. I won’t last two minutes, I think to myself, simultaneously hoping I can prove myself wrong.
I plow into her two, three times, hard, before the tiny voice of reason in the far recesses of my sex-addled mind reminds me to be gentler. Patience has never been my strong suit, but for Tawny – for this beautiful, amazing girl wrapped up my arms – I’ll make an exception. I slow down my movements and look down at her as I slide all the way out, all the way in, over and over again. Meanwhile, her legs give little flutter kicks and she claws at my arms and back, her eyes wide with the delight that was missing from our first time together.
Tawny – 9:03 PM
So this is what sex is supposed to feel like. At first it was uncomfortable, and I feared it would be painful again, but after Kyle slowed down I began to warm up, and now it just feels…amazing. The world around me has faded to black – we are the only two in existence, our bodies breaking apart and recombining, clashing and colliding, in a way that far exceeds my every expectation.
After a few minutes Kyle seems to lose his momentum. He slows down and finally swings to a stop, still breathing heavily, sweat dripping from his brow. “We need to switch it up – I don’t wanna come yet,” he says.
He slides out of me, leaving a hollowness inside that I’m desperate to replenish. Just when I think he’s going to get up and walk away, however, he grabs my right leg and moves it across his body, then uses his hand on my butt to guide me over on my stomach. Finally he wraps both hands around my waist and jerks me backward so I’m on my elbows and knees, bent over in front of him. He repositions himself and slides back in, filling the void he created only a second ago. As he thrusts in, he leans over until his lips are just above my ear and says, “Your pussy feels so tight. You feel so fucking good.”
I shiver and grind my hips back against him, allowing him to sink in deeper. I can tell he’s exercising extraordinary self-control to moderate his speed. Ooooh God.
Kyle – 9:12 PM
I’d almost bet the visual stimulation of Tawny’s lean, muscular back laid out before me, her hair tumbling out of its carefully tamed bun into a wild, disarrayed mane of curls, would be enough to get me off even without the added bonus of being inside her. Even more amazing is the fact that, judging from the soft moans escaping her every time I plunge into her, she’s feeling pretty good, too.
I reach my hand around her waist and begin stroking her clit with my fingers, rubbing small circles and loving the way her hips thrust against me as I bring her closer to her orgasm. More than anything, this time I want to feel her come around my cock. Unfortunately my own fuse is burning extremely short – it’s only a matter of time before I blow.
“I wanna feel you come, baby,” I murmur, rubbing against her more feverishly now. A moment later I drop my hand and roll my hips slightly to change the angle at which I penetrate her.
“Yes, Kyle. Oh God, don’t stop!” she cries. Ah, fuck – probably best if she didn’t start saying things like that to me right now. I’m teetering dangerously close to the edge of oblivion as it is.
But then she drops off that ledge, and I watch in ecstasy as she falls. Her muscles pump around me, and it takes every last ounce of willpower stored within me to hold myself back and give her her release. It isn’t until she’s finished a moment later, collapsed in a heap, that I permit myself to follow her over the edge. I pump in and out twice, allowing the pressure to build to a point where it can no longer be repressed or contained, then pull out and spill myself into my sock.
Tawny – 9:30 PM
We’re lying side by side on my narrow mattress, still nude, and all I can think is, How will I ever go another day without this in my life? It occurs to me Kyle has unknowingly created a monster of sorts – it’s been five minutes, and already my body is begging for me to initiate round two.
Kyle weaves our fingers together and brings our hands closer to his leg, giving me a firm squeeze. His breathing has only just begun to even out.
A moment later he rolls up onto his right elbow and looks down at me, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I wonder how many of your neighbors got some free entertainment tonight,” he says, reaching behind him to rap his knuckle against the thin wall.
Immediately I feel myself color – the fact I have neighbors had never even occurred to me. God, how mortifying. I bring my hands up to cover my face, but Kyle pries my fingers away from my cheeks, chucking softly to himself. “Don’t worry about it – trust me, I’ve heard far worse through these walls. If anything we probably just made some people extremely jealous.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “They wish they could have that kind of Friday night,” I say teasingly in concurrence.
“No lie,” he agrees as he rolls up to a sitting position, then swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up. “One thing about sex,” he says as he bends over to pick his boxers up off the tiled floor, “it gives me an appetite. Hungry?”
He lifts an eyebrow at me, and I nod, suddenly feeling the effects of my half-eaten dinner – I’m ravenous. I open my mouth to speak when suddenly the sound of footsteps carries through the closed door, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock. My heart rate accelerates, but I’m powerless to move a single muscle, my eyes riveted on the doorknob as it turns in slow motion.
Suddenly the door swings open, and Harumi walks in. She freezes when she sees Kyle standing naked as a jaybird not ten feet away from her, holding his underwear in his hand. For a moment, time seems to be suspended – Kyle and I stare, motionless, at the intruder in our midst, while Harumi stares at the unclothed man in front of her. After maybe an hour or two, she wrenches her eyes away and whirls around to sling her backpack up onto her bed.
“Just dropping off my stuff!” she says, her voice shrill with embarrassment. She purposely keeps her back to us as she grabs a sweatshirt from the hook at the foot of her bed and strolls back toward the door. “See you guys later,” she mumbles as she lets herself back out the door.
Even after the latch clicks, Kyle and I remain immobilized. A moment later, he finally turns his face to look at me. “So whaddya say?” he says. “You feel like some tacos?”
Tawny – 10:00 PM
Twenty minutes later we’re waiting in line at Jose Luis. The small restaurant is packed with undergraduate patrons, some of whom are already falling-down drunk. While we wait we try to guess things about the people around us based on their appearances or snatches of overheard conversations. Kyle leans in close to me and nods toward a guy feeding quarters into the Jukebox as he waits on his food. He has olive-toned skin and glossy black hair that’s in need of a cut, and he’s wearing baggy flannel pajama pants and a UNR sweatshirt. “What do you think?” Kyle asks. “What’s his story?”
I sigh as I cross my arms and lean into one hip, sizing him up. “Psych major?” I guess. “Skipped class today, rolled out of bed at around four-thirty. Played some video games, ate some Cocoa Puffs. Now he’s here to grab some dinner before heading back to start drinking with his roommates.”
Kyle laughs. “Jesus Christ, that’s dismal. Let’s hope you’re wrong.”
“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” I laugh. “How about her?” I gesture toward a girl with bleach-blond hair and a pierced eyebrow sharing a booth with a brawny, jock-type guy. He hasn’t stopped talking since w
e walked in; meanwhile, she simply picks at her stubby fingernails while the set of her body clearly conveys her lack of interest in whatever it is he’s saying.
“Elementary Ed,” he begins. “She and her boyfriend there have been dating for a couple of years – he hasn’t figured out yet she’s not into dudes. She’s trying to figure out how to break the news to him.”
“Why do you say she’s an education major?” I challenge him.
“I don’t know, I knew a girl once from that school. She seemed really just unconcerned like that.”
“Watch it,” I say with a grin, swatting him on the arm. “My sister’s an elementary school teacher.”
“No offense to your sister,” he says with a chuckle as he holds up his hands in defense.
Suddenly a voice comes from behind my shoulder: “What’s up, Freeman?”
“Hey, man, not much.”
I turn around and see a guy who’s built like a linebacker with fraternity letters emblazoned across the front of his shirt. He looks from Kyle to me, and Kyle says, “This is Gilman; he was one of my roommates last year. Gilman, this is my friend Tawny.”
I can’t really fully explain or try to defend my internal reaction to that statement – I suppose in a lot of ways it was fairly innocent. Still, the moment the words “my friend Tawny” left Kyle’s lips, I felt a sort of numb tingly feeling spread over my entire body, and the only emotion to which I can rightly attach it is anger. Didn’t we just have sex? For the second time? Without a condom?! Granted, I’m not sure what I expected him to call me, but “friend” suddenly seems not only marginally insulting but also blatantly wrong.
His meaning is clear, at least to me. Kyle Freeman and I are clearly nothing more than friends – with “benefits.”
Kyle – 10:30 PM
Forever With You (Silver State Series) Page 13