by Amy Brent
Then she leaned in close and ran her tongue over the head of my dick. She never looked away from me, even when she opened her mouth and closed her lips around my cock. She pushed me deep into her throat. She sucked me, slowly at first, and then worked her way to a faster rhythm that had me willing her not to stop.
She didn’t. She kept going, her wet mouth feeling way too good. She dragged her tongue up the bottom of my shaft and swirled it around the head. I began to rock my hips slowly. When she started rubbing herself, I lost it.
I pulled her up to her feet. I turned her around and bent her over. She braced herself against the counter as I slid inside her. She moaned and wiggled her hips, showing me her ass. I loved her ass. I always had. I squeezed it, pressing my fingers into the muscle.
Then, without thinking, I slapped it. She yelped in surprise and then giggled with delight as I continued fucking her. I slapped her again, and she let out a breathless whimper. She was so hot. Way too hot.
I squeezed her ass again. I loved fucking her from behind. There was no better view in the world. And I loved putting my hands all over her. The feeling of her ass beneath my palms drove me wild. I bucked against her, and suddenly we were both spiraling. Her breaths became ragged until she was crying out with pleasure. I fucked her all the way through her orgasm until I blew my load in her pussy.
She remained bent over the counter, gasping for breath when we were done. I slapped her ass again, this time a little lighter, and she looked at me over her shoulder as she straightened up.
She bent and gathered her clothes from the floor. Then she handed me my clothes, too. She stood before me, holding her sweater and leggings to her chest. She wouldn’t look me in the eye when she started talking.
“I didn’t invite you over for the sex,” she said. “I wanted to tell you something.”
“Oh?” I said.
She looked at her feet. “I don’t really know how to start. I think maybe it would be best if I show you. I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Sure,” I said, a little hesitant.
I watched her head into her bedroom. She closed the door behind her. I heard her run the water in her bathroom as I got dressed.
She came back into the kitchen a few minutes later. There was a pale pink book in her hand, and it was open. She was staring down at it. I could see she was chewing the inside of her cheek. This was a nervous habit of hers I had become used to ages ago.
She pushed the book into my hands.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“My old diary from high school,” she said.
“I thought you didn’t want me reading this anymore,” I said, still trying to catch her eye.
She wouldn’t look at me. “I know. But there’s something in there you need to know. Something I should have told you a long time ago. I don’t know how to say it, so I thought you should read it. Please keep in mind this was a long, long time ago. And nothing happened from it. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Alright,” I said, not sure I wanted to know what was written on the page anymore.
I looked down at it and mustered the courage to start reading.
Saturday, August 14th
Dear Diary,
I lost my virginity tonight. I hadn’t planned it. It just sort of happened. It was like people say. One thing led to another, and suddenly we were both naked, and he was climbing on top of me. I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to have sex with him. All of my friends have lost their virginity already. They’ve been talking about it for at least a year. They keep telling me that it will be worth the wait, but I haven’t liked being the only one who hadn’t done it.
I felt like I was excluded. That’s stupid. I know.
But the boy I wanted to lose it to would never choose me, anyway. So, in the end, I decided it didn’t matter who it was. It might as well have been his older brother before it was anyone else.
His parents were away for the weekend. Steven wasn’t home. He was with a girl, probably Allison Kinney. Andrew told me he would drive me home in the morning after we had some drinks. Their parents have a fully stocked liquor cabinet that they never check. We were in his bedroom. It was the middle of the night. No one was in the house.
We moved to the bed. I was wearing a skirt. I pulled it up for him. I was wearing my favorite panties. You know, the black ones with the little jewel on the front? My bra matched, too. I was ready. We were both ready.
He asked me so many times if I was sure. He was so kind. I promised him I was. I wanted to have sex.
He climbed on top of me. He fingered me first. He told me virgins couldn’t jump right into sex. He told me it would hurt. I believed him. I trusted him. He was good with his hands. I remember Melissa telling me this was important in a guy.
When I was wet enough, as Andrew said, he unzipped his pants. His dick was huge. Way bigger than what I had been expecting. He was gentle. He put it in me slowly. It hurt. But not for long. Once he was inside me for a few minutes the pain disappeared. It felt good. He took his time. He made sure I wasn’t in pain.
He finished inside me. I hadn’t wanted that to happen. We both had forgotten about condoms. I’m not on birth control. I should have told him. I can’t believe I didn’t tell him. I shouldn’t have had so many drinks.
But it was my first time. No one gets pregnant on their first time, right? That only happens in the movies, or in those pamphlets the abstinence people hand out in front of churches? I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t have done it.
Maybe I wasn’t ready. I thought I was.
I don’t know what I’m going to do now.
Steven will be so mad at me.
I looked up at Allie. She was watching me without blinking. Her eyes were wet, and her hands were clasped together under her chin. I couldn’t think of a damn thing to say that would summarize how I was feeling.
She had fucked my brother ten years ago, and neither of them had said a word of it since.
Allie sniffed and wiped her eyes. “The next page. Keep reading.”
I didn’t want to. For God’s sake, I didn’t want to. But I did. I turned the page and kept going.
Saturday, August 21st
I’m pregnant. I’m pretty sure. I didn’t want to write anything until now because putting it on paper makes it feel so real. I can’t believe I let this happen. How could I have been so stupid? All because I wanted to know what sex was like. I wanted to know what I was missing out on.
I told Andrew. He’s scared, I can tell. He’s scared, but he’s being so kind.
He told me he would help me. He said he would stand by me, no matter what happened. He even offered to tell my parents with me. He offered to tell Steven for me.
I couldn’t let him do that.
I couldn’t let Steven find out like that.
I’ve made a terrible mistake. I’m only sixteen. I can’t do this.
Thursday, August 26th
I skipped fourth period today. Andrew picked me up at the park and drove me to the clinic. He had booked me an appointment with the doctor to get a pregnancy test. He said it would be better if we knew for sure, then we could plan appropriately. He said I needed to take care of myself if I was pregnant.
He sat with me while the doctor went and did the test. I was so scared. He hugged me while I cried. He made me feel better.
When the doctor came back, he told us the results were negative. I’ve never felt so relieved. I couldn’t believe it. Everything is okay. It’s all going to be okay. I’m not pregnant. Andrew and I are so relieved.
After, when we were sitting in his car, Andrew asked me what I wanted to do about the whole thing.
I told him I didn’t want anyone to ever find out. Especially Steven. No one could ever know what had happened. Andrew promised me that he wouldn’t say a word to anyone. I hope he can keep that promise.
Dear Diary. Things will be okay. I won’t ever make this mistake again. I’m going to be okay.
&n
bsp; I felt like I had just been punched in the gut by a fist made of rock. Allie was still standing in front of me teary eyed. She spoke my name softly. I didn’t answer. There wasn’t anything I could say right now that wouldn’t hurt her.
I wanted to yell. I wanted to break something.
Instead, I closed the diary and put it on the counter. Well, no, I slammed it down. Allie jumped and sniffled, and I brushed by her and made for the door.
“Steven!” she cried after me, racing down the hall behind me. She reached out and caught the sleeve of my shirt. “Please don’t go. Please stay. We need to talk about this. I’m so sorry I never told you. But please, try to understand, this was ten years ago. I was foolish. I didn’t—”
“Not now Allie,” I growled as I put my boots on.
I left, ignoring Allie’s cries for me to come back so we could talk. No talking would get rid of the rage burning in my chest.
Chapter 12
Allie
I never should have let Steven read my diary entries about his older brother, Andrew. The look on his face last night had crushed me. I knew how much I had hurt him. He hadn’t even been able to look at me when he was leaving. He had slammed the door behind him and ignored me when I ran out after him.
I had hoped, in vain, that he might call me before he went to bed. I had thought there might be a chance that once he cooled down, he might be able to talk about it.
I had been wrong.
Now, I was sitting in my bed, my eyes swollen from crying for the last three hours, willing for him to call me. I knew he wouldn’t.
Eventually, I decided to make the first move. I called him, holding my phone to my ear with a shaking hand, hoping he would give me a chance to explain. He didn’t answer. I tried one more time fifteen minutes later to receive a worse result: my call went straight to voicemail.
I curled up and started to cry. I had ruined the best thing in my life in one painful strike. When things had finally started to look good for me, I had destroyed it. I thought of Steven’s face as he read the diary.
I hadn’t destroyed us. I had destroyed him.
I woke to my phone ringing a couple hours later. I had literally cried myself into a fitful sleep after not being able to sleep all night long. The call was from Andrew. I stared at the screen in shock for a moment before I answered.
“Hey Andrew,” I croaked, my throat aching from sobbing.
“What the hell Allie? You told him? I thought we both agreed that we weren’t ever going to say anything about it!”
“I know, I’m sorry. I had to.”
“A heads up would have been nice. He just showed up at my place and threw a bloody tantrum. I thought he was going to hit me. Why did you open your mouth?”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, closing my eyes and rolling onto my back. “Things have changed between Steven and me over the last little bit. We love each other. At least, I love him. I don’t know how he feels now. I had to tell him. I couldn’t keep the secret.”
“Well, you made a mistake, Allie. He told me he never wants to see either of us again. And you know what? I believe him. He’s furious.”
I fought not to cry. I couldn’t break down on the phone with Andrew. That wouldn’t help anyone. “I can’t talk with you right now Andrew, I’m sorry.” I hung up the phone, threw it across the room with an angry and devastated shout, and then fell face first into my pillow where I proceeded to cry my eyes out.
What had I done? Why had I said anything?
I cried for me. I cried for Steven. Who knew where he was. He was probably as hurt by this as I was. He had been the one who was blindsided, not me. I had been the one intentionally keeping him in the dark for years. Maybe I deserved this pain.
Steven didn’t.
Some twenty minutes later, once I had myself under control, I called Melissa. She answered the phone cheerfully, and then grew quiet when she heard my sniffling. “Allie?” she asked softly. “Oh no, Allie, what’s the matter? What’s happened?”
So I told her everything. I told her how Steven had reacted when he found out. I told her how badly I had hurt him. And I told her what Steven had said to Andrew.
“Allie, hush, it’s okay. I know this is hard, but Steven needed to know. He was going to find out eventually.”
“No!” I said, my voice rising. “Maybe he wouldn’t have! Maybe it would have all been fine. Maybe he wouldn’t hate me right now.”
“Allie,” Melissa said sharply. “Come on. Don’t pull that on me. You know just as well as I do that this needed to be out in the open. That’s why you told him in the first place. I didn’t make you do anything. You know this was the right thing to do. You still know it was.”
“No, I don’t,” I said, regressing into more sobbing.
Melissa was quiet on the other end. I could hear her breathing as she considered her next words. She was a thoughtful person, never saying anything she didn’t mean, having poised control over herself. It was a skill I wished I had. Maybe I wouldn’t have blown it with Steven. I would have been honest with him years ago.
Finally, Melissa started talking again.
“Allie, the wound is fresh right now. You can’t be so hard on yourself. You know Steven better than you know anyone. He’ll come around. He cares for you as much as you care for him. He always has. The problem is, he hasn’t ever been good at accepting his feelings. I know how empty this sounds, but you have to keep your chin up. You did the right thing. That’s why this is so hard.”
I chewed my bottom lip as I fought with myself not to succumb to tears again. “I shouldn’t have told him.”
I could practically hear Melissa rolling her eyes on the other end. “Well, you did, and it’s done.”
“I know. And I hurt him. I never wanted to hurt him. And this is all over something that happened ten years ago. And it meant nothing! I should have kept my mouth shut like Andrew and I agreed. Now Steven thinks it’s a way bigger deal than what it is. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“You weren’t stupid, Allie. Telling him was right. If you love him, which you claim to, you can’t lie to him. Don’t you see how flawed that is?”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s flawed,” I snapped. “What matters is that the person I care about most won’t even talk to me because of something stupid I did when I was sixteen.”
“Well, unfortunately, you can’t control that.”
She wasn’t making me feel any better. Deep down I knew she was right, but I wasn’t ready to hear any of it. It was too fresh. “I have to go,” I said. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I can’t talk about this right now.”
“Okay, Allie. It will all be alright. Hang in there. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said before hanging up the phone and putting it on my nightstand. I sighed and rolled onto my back, clasping my hands behind my head. I stared up at the white speckled ceiling and thought about Steven.
I wondered what he was doing right now. Chances were high that he was at work. But a little part of me hoped he was lying on his own bed thinking about me; aching the same way I was.
Instantly, I hated myself for hoping he was hurting. I had done this to him. This was my fault. I had earned this heartache all on my own. Well, sort of on my own. Andrew had helped.
I glanced at my diary. The yellow spine was sticking out like it wanted me to reach for it. So I did. I pulled it free and rolled onto my stomach. After grabbing a pen from the drawer of the nightstand, I flipped through the pages to the next blank one. Then I sat, pen poised over the paper, and started writing.
Sunday, October 8th
Steven knows about Andrew. I messed up. I let him read the entries I wrote surrounding when I thought I was pregnant. He had no idea, and now he’s furious with me.
I can’t blame him. He was blindsided. It was his brother, after all, and his best friend who did this to him. For two whole weeks, we were positive that we were going to be parents. And I never said a word to Steven. Of cours
e, he’s hurt. And probably confused.
I’ll never be able to forget his face when he read the entry. He was staring down at it like someone had come out of the page and punched him in the gut. I saw all the confusion and bewilderment morph into betrayal. Anger. Fury.
Then he was leaving. I couldn’t do anything to stop him. He wouldn’t even look at me. He just left.
Andrew called me and told me Steven showed up at his house furious. Steven yelled at him. He said he never wanted to see Andrew or me again.
I can’t live with never seeing Steven again. I need him. I thought he needed me too. But maybe what I did was too much for him to forgive.
I don’t know what to do. If he never talks to me again, I don’t know how I’ll be able to move on. I love him.
I’ve always loved him.
By the time I finished writing, I was crying again. I had hoped the entry would be therapeutic, but it only brought up more pain.
I curled in on myself and let the sobs come. They shook me until my throat was raw and my ribs ached. My eyes were puffy and swollen, and all the pressure behind them and in my sinuses brought on a terrible headache. Despite the pain, I continued crying. I cried until there were no more tears left to shed, and I was nothing but a hollow body in the fetal position on my bed.