by Ivy Jordan
“I’m sorry, God. Don’t come at me like that.”
“You know, if you fail, you can’t come back here. You’re on your own.”
“With a credit card and two sports cars. He won’t really cut me off. Now can we please just have dinner? I don’t want to talk about this crap.”
“The weather’s nice,” I pointed out.
“Shut up, both of you. This is serious, Channing.”
“I’ve got a tutor. I’m working hard. I know what I need to do to pass. Now, will you leave me alone, and let me eat in peace? Jesus,” he drained his water and set it down at the table.
“Fine,” Marie went quiet, and we sat in silence until the food came when Channing spoke up.
“I’m going to pass.”
“He really is,” I interjected.
“I’ll buy it when I see it.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” I said.
“I don’t see the point in all this. Can’t we just get our dinners from the kitchen and go somewhere else with them?” Channing asked.
“No,” she said. “You’re my son, and it’s been far too long since I’ve seen you.”
He sighed and sat back in his chair. Dinner was roasted chicken. They gave me a thigh with tiny bones and a lump of mashed potatoes. Everything was bland, no salt, no spices, like cardboard. The food was decorative, a show, just like everything else in the house.
Channing didn’t eat, and neither did I. Instead, we stuck to our water and kept our straws in our mouths to discourage conversation.
After a while, Marie pushed her plate away and stormed off, leaving me alone with Channing. Channing shot out of his chair and cornered the bartender. They were together for a while. I could hear them talking behind me, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
When Channing was finished, he took a seat across from me.
“What was that?” I asked.
“You’ll see.”
The bartender walked behind the bar and began pouring us drinks. For Channing, a whiskey and Coke, for me, a bright blue mix that tasted like cherries and rum. When the bartender was done, he went through a short menu, the things they had on hand, apparently. We both ordered steaks and went back to our drinks.
“If you do it right,” I said, “this kind of life could be fun.”
“It’s too much upkeep,” he said. “I want to live alone, somewhere out in the country. I don’t want anybody around, just me, the forest, and my beautiful house.”
I sat back and smiled. “Maybe near a lake.”
“A little snow,” he said. “Not much. Just enough to go sledding.”
“No, it should come down in great big globs that somehow miss the road and our driveway.”
“I’m not shoveling.”
“I know,” I raised a finger. “It’ll be at the base of the mountain. That way, we can miss the snow and drive up whenever we want to see it.”
“That’s perfect. We can go hiking and skiing, and hunt as many deer as we want.” He took a drink and met my eyes with a grin. “It would be wonderful.”
“Like a dream.”
We didn’t say anything until our food arrived—two massive plates with thick cuts of beef, salad, rolls, and baked potatoes with gravy, mushrooms, and mustard greens. It was delicious.
“See,” I said, in between bites of lettuce, “it doesn’t matter how much stuff you have. It’s nothing if you don’t enjoy it. That’s the problem.”
“Well, once you have everything,” he speared a cut of beef with his fork, “you get bored. You don’t enjoy things the way you normally would. Everything is drawn out and dull, so you just kind of fade into the background.”
“How boring.” I thought of the way his mother seemed detached, focused only on her cigarettes while she looked on at the rest of the world.
“That’s why I want that house. I want to get out and enjoy things.”
“I feel the same way.” I finished my salad and moved onto my baked potato. “I don’t want people cooking for me or bringing me drinks. If I want something, I’ll get it. In fact, I want to have cooking nights, when we decorate the table with flowers and try new recipes.”
“You can have china in a hutch next to the table,” he said.
“On display with plates sitting on little stands.”
“And a barbecue pit.”
“Yes, but just for you and me. No big parties.”
“No, for our cooking nights,” he said.
“We need lots of those.”
“And fireplace nights.”
“Mm-hmm,” I nodded, “and forest adventures.”
“We’ll go on walks every day,” he said.
“It’s going to be wonderful.” We finished our food while I contemplated what it’d be like to wake up in bed next to him every morning. We could do all of those things if we really wanted to, or anything we wanted. With his resources, we could live the life of our dreams.
We finished our food quickly. Soon, he was offering me his hand to help me up. There was a back gate leading outside, where the moon had stained the vast field of long grass a pale gray. It seemed to glitter when it swayed in the wind. Channing led me down a through the grass, behind a cluster of white buildings that must’ve been the guest quarters. Further downhill was an arched trellis covered in vines. A short path had been cut in a patch of green.
It must’ve been the gardens at one time. There were red brick paths lined with decaying wooden fences. Their posts had toppled, and the vines were eating at them. There were trees ringed with circles of rocks and rose bushes with their vines laid out across the straight path
The scent of fermenting petals, moss, and fresh blossoms stuck in the thick, warm air. Rose vines snaked around the trees, around the fence posts, with beds of blue, yellow, pink, and red petals laying on the ground below.
Channing took my hand, and we walked further downhill, where the trees grew thick on both sides of the trail. There was a bush at the bottom and trees flanking us on all sides.
Channing pulled the branches of the bush aside, revealing a path that led through the trees into a clearing beyond. He climbed in first, then pulled me through and collapsed on the grass, pulling me with him. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled my head close, so he could dampen the fall. I barely even felt it when we hit the ground.
The clearing was nothing more than a clean, soft bed of grass with a boulder in the middle. We scooted back, and he leaned against the boulder, so I could lie on my back and rest my head on his stomach.
We were far enough outside the city that the only light came from the moon and the stars. They stretched out above us in a milky band that fell below the tree line. Channing looked up at them with me while my head rose and fell with his breath. These quiet moments were sacred. We were bonding silently, delving into one another. We listened to the soft sounds our bodies made, our legs shifting in the grass, the beating of his heart, and the wind passing us by.
The boulder sheltered us from the worst of the chill, so we could just enjoy the sky. Soon I felt him starting to get restless, and we walked back to the house. He stayed close to me and held my hand as much as he could. I enjoyed the comfort of having him there, urging me on.
When we got to the back of the house, he led me through a back door where a private stairwell brought us to my room. He followed me in, I laid down, and he fell on top of me. He rested the weight of his body on mine, pressing me back into the bed, while his lips crashed over me. His tongue was moist and warm when it pressed past my lips.
He wrapped his arm around my back and sat pulled me up so that he was sitting on my lap. He stood up, and I saw his cock bulging out of his pants when he ducked down to pull off my shirt. He threw it behind him and moved onto my lips.
He pressed me back onto the bed again. I was laying on my back, and he had himself propped up so that he was leaning over me. His kiss traveled down my chin, leaving a wet, warm trail with it. He kissed my neck,
the place under my ear, then cupped my head in his hand so he could tear into my neck. His teeth nicked the skin, and a jolt tore through me.
It was electric. His hand trailed down my side, over my breast. His thumb grazed my nipple through my bra, and I gasped. My breath flowed in, and his lips fell. He moved lower and began kissing my neck, my chest, and the space above my breasts.
He pulled his hand around my back, darted up to bite my bottom lip, and unhooked my bra. He tore it away and fell on my nipples. His lips pulled one up, and I felt pressure building up beneath my gut. It was a warm, tingling sensation that slowly turned into a trickle as he sucked my nipple in and grazed the other with his fingernail.
His fingers were cold needles spreading fire across my areola. His tongue did the same. The building heat from his breath became a tangible force moving inside me. The trickle became a wave, building up between my legs. I tensed my muscles to keep it from flowing out.
Channing fell lower and opened my legs as his lips moved over my stomach. A fleck of moisture trickled out, and I gasped. He dug his teeth into the skin below my belly button and moved his finger over my areola while he worked the button my pants with his other hand.
He had my pants unbuttoned in no time. Now he was holding on the belt loops on the sides. He pulled my pants lower as his kisses fell with them. He hooked a finger around the band on my panties and pulled them down with my pants.
My lips were exposed now. I could see light reflecting on the moisture. His breath was hot, flowing over them, piercing through to my opening, running over my clit. He moved down off the bed until he was on his knees and his face was digging deeper between my open legs. He pulled me forward so that my legs were hanging over the bed, and my feet were resting on the floor.
Then he darted forward and swept his tongue up past my opening. He rested it on my clit, and a harsh moan flew out. He reached one hand up to cup my breast and let his index finger flit over the nipple while he darted his tongue across my clit, back and forth, then down again. He rested it on my opening, then looked up to meet my eyes before he drove the tip through, just enough to make me jolt back.
I was throbbing now, pulling his tongue in. He flicked his finger across my nipple and used the other hand to clamp down on my clit while he pressed his tongue in further. It was hot, like an injection of liquid fire, but it wasn’t enough, and when his breath flew in, it left me aching for more.
His index finger fell down my clit. He drew his head back and rested the tip on my opening. He tapped it once, then twice, over and over until my voice was bubbling out and I was ready to scream. I caught myself and bit my bottom lip. Somebody might hear us if they walked through the hall.
Channing pressed the tip of his finger through. My mouth flew open, and a sharp breath flew out. He pressed it in deeper, up to the knuckle, and I tensed up. The blood rushed to my face, and I winced at the feeling of him sliding it through the rest of the way.
He rested the tip on my spot, and my head flew back. The wave of moisture growing inside me was starting to pool up. His finger was teasing it when he twisted and pulled out. He lowered his head and pulled his tongue down my clit while his finger twisted through, hit my spot, then back again, faster this time.
I could see his arm flexing. He must’ve been playing with his bulge. He was a machine, roaring through as my body took him in. It was sweet and fiery, a cardinal sin, but his dick wasn’t inside me, and he was stroking it faster now. He pinched my clit and pulled his head away. He stood up with his finger still twisting inside me.
I could see his cock bulging out of his pants. It was hanging down his thigh. The tip was sticking out. He pulled his hand down the length and pinched the head. It was throbbing at his touch. His finger was still pressing through, faster now, and my breath was racing. He pulled his thumb down my clit, and a wave poured out.
Warmth spread through my body, and he drove through deep. The tip of his finger grazed my spot, and my breath caught in my throat. My voice flew out, and the warmth flowing through me became a raging fire storm, tickling at my skin with its hot, feathery lips.
Channing was watching me the entire time, as the flame spread out, up my stomach, down my glistening thighs, staining the white sheets. His finger was still pushing through and pulling back. He was using his other hand to finger his button.
He made a show of stroking his hand down his shaft, then pulling the button open. After that, he let his pants fall. His cock flew up and pointed straight towards me. I could see the skin folding over the bright red tip as his hand moved back and forth over the shaft.
His finger slammed through me, and my voice was bubbling out. I loved the way it looked when he met my eyes and pressed through. Then he reached up with his other hand to clamp down on my clit.
I cried out.
He lowered himself on top of me and grabbed his cock by the base. He pushed the tip through, and I went wild. It was a terrible tease. I tried to push into it, but he held me back and began sliding through slowly, letting his breath fly out between us.
His lips crashed against mine, and his tongue pushed through. I could feel the tip of his cock pushing in further. He jolted, and his cock slammed onto my spot. My body shot up, and his full length was inside me.
His lips were wild, pulsing back and forth, his head twisting. His tongue shot through, and he began to drill me. His cock slammed in, faster and faster. The sound of him grunting cut through the silence, and I sat back.
My breath flew out with every thrust and came in sharp, panicked gasps. The sound of my heart pounding seemed louder than anything else around me. Then I felt his stomach touch mine. Our bodies crashed together, and his lips fell down behind my ear.
He tore through me while his teeth dug into the sensitive skin on my neck. I could feel his cock pounding at my gates. A small sea was building up. The current was churning through me, fueled by his dick. His hips thrust faster and faster as his teeth dug into my neck, below my ear, under my chin, above my breasts.
He reached down and began stroking my clit. His touch was pure fire. It came blasting through and tore open the barrier holding the storm in. Wave after cold wave flew out, up my chest, into my head, my legs, even my feet. Every blast was stronger than the last until I was overcome by it.
I felt like I was standing under a wall of water, being torn apart by the sheer force of it. I heard Channing gasp. His breath caught, and a hot stream flowed through me. He didn’t pull away right away. Instead, he lay at my side and turned me over so that we were facing one another, kissing while he moved his cock back and forth through me.
Soon my eyes were closing. He turned over and laid on his back, then wrapped his arms around my neck so I could rest my head on his shoulder. “Is it okay for you to be here?” I asked.
“This is where I belong. Will you sleep with me tonight?”
“Of course,” I closed my eyes to fall asleep.
“Let’s go tomorrow. Is that okay?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good,” he kissed my head and went quiet.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Channing
Hamburg closed her laptop and turned off the projector. Our graded tests were sitting on the edge of her desk. She caught the eyes of every student she could as she scanned the room for dramatic effect. Mike shifted in his desk to my right.
“Is there something in the water, or did your mothers drop you on your heads? Not one of you passed your quiz except for the quarterback—of all people. You can’t even outsmart a meathead,” she tapped her skull. “What is wrong with you?” She walked around to the front of the desk and picked up the stack of papers behind her. “Half of you didn’t even fill out the whole thing.”
She let the stack fall to the floor. “Class dismissed.”
Everyone scrambled up at once to grab their tests off the floor. Mike and I waited in the back of the room and watched as one student snatched the stack up and started passing them out. Hamburg sat down
at her desk and leaned back with her phone in hand.
“Did you hear that? I’m the only one who passed the test, and I’m a meathead.”
“At least you passed,” Mike said. “I barely understood a word of it.”
“Mike, you can’t be doing that crap. You’re gonna fail.”
“I know,” he dipped down to grab his bag and followed me downstairs. The students were starting to disperse, and what was left of the stack of papers was sitting in a loose pile on Hamburg’s desk. Her eyes shot up when I grabbed mine.
“I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, I mean it. It’s amazing the way you’ve progressed. Keep it up.” She turned back down to her phone. When I turned around, Mike was standing behind me with his mouth hanging open.
“Let’s go,” I pulled him into the hall. We stopped outside the door.
“Dude, she complimented you.”
“It doesn’t feel natural.” We began walking towards the end of the hall, out onto the courtyard, where we took a seat at our table. “Did you get any studying done?” I asked Mike when he sat down.
“No, I was busy with something.”
“A girl?”
“Two,” he grinned from ear to ear.
“Two?”
“Both at the same time, all week. They wouldn’t let up.”
“Who were they?”
“Two of my ex-girlfriends from high school—Aimee and Jennifer. I saw them at the park behind my house my first day back. They were in my bed within an hour.”
“That sounds great, but what about your classes? How are you going to pass if you didn’t study?”
“I’ll cram some in tonight.” He didn’t sound scared, which unsettled me. He wasn’t going to last the year. His academic career was over.
He changed the subject. “How did your weekend go?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “It went alright.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t get much studying done.”
“I got some.”
“But, something else was distracting you. I can see it. You were with a girl. Who was it?”