Sinder 1: Experimentation

by Jane Devreaux

  I don’t have my license, but Oliver often let me drive his car and he too had one of those old rusty cars that start immediately.

  “And I’m even more so right now.” He insists brushing his hand on my thigh.

  I put the car in reverse, accelerate and maneuver making the tires squeal. He wants me to cool him down?

  “In your state you would be too if I introduced you to a transsexual friend.”

  “You want to kill me? Step off the gas!” He commands me, holding on tightly to the seat.

  “Yes, sir!”

  At this speed it’s going to take forever.

  After a few yards on a deserted highway, he finally loosens his grip threatening to tear the leather and I take on some speed. I feel his eyes on me. Why is he scrutinizing me this way? The pressure of his beautiful blue eyes completely unsettles me and I have trouble concentrating on the road.

  “What’s your type of guy?” He ends up asking.

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing! What does he care? He’s bored and wants to play curious? I hate him when he does that! I turn to him to try and decipher his look that seems almost dark in the compartment’s darkness.

  “Concentrate!” He adds, almost pleading.

  Guys and their cars, seriously! I bring my attention back to the road, but his question is still floating around. I think about Oliver, his imposing stature, his hazel eyes and his winner’s smile. That asshole was handsome! He too had all the girls at his feet, yet he only had eyes for me. It didn’t prevent him from leaving me when trouble came around. A bastard like all the others. With Josh at least things are clear. He’ll leave when his dick finds someone better.

  “Not the right one, that’s for sure!” I end up answering.

  I don’t look at him but I know I did not satiate his curiosity.

  “Have you ever had a boyfriend?” he insists not letting his eyes off the road.

  “Would it be that surprising?”

  “Tell me!”

  He really thinks I’ll tell him about my life? Come on, he’s dreaming! He’s not my friend, we mean nothing to each other, we are just too strangers fucking together. I plan on keeping it that way and yet…

  “I’ll consider the fact that you won’t remember any of it tomorrow.” I end up saying. “I used to go out with an asshole of your kind, handsome, shallow, arrogant…”

  “I’m not like that!” He protests, almost angry.

  “Yes you are!”

  “And how could a guy like this be interested in a girl like you?”

  I shouldn’t even react to this, yet his words hurt me. And what about him, why is he here, pleading me to get naked when he has such a hot girlfriend? Fucking hypocritical bastard!

  “Because I fuck like a Goddess.” I answer eyeing him from the side.

  I see him fall to pieces and think for a moment that he’s going to be sick, then I understand that it’s my answer that unsettled him this way. This idiot is of the possessive kind on top of it? What a jerk!

  He hasn’t said anything when I clarify as I park in front of his house:

  “You see, I used to be popular.”

  I planned to leave him here. There’s no risk in front of his house. And then I realize that this idiot could still fuck something up. I walk around the car, open his door and hold him by the waist as he still hasn’t moved. After a superhuman effort I finally get him out of the mustang. I think I’m holding him tight but his weight surprises me and I fall down as he collapses onto me. The shock expels the little oxygen I have left and I have trouble catching my breath lying under him. He sways, sliding his hands over my body and running his lips along my jaw.

  “Josh!” I protest. “Do you really want an insomniac neighbor to see us here?”

  “I would very much like to see old Rosy’s reaction!” he jokes before adding: “Walk me to my room or I fuck you right here for all to see.”

  “It’s a no in both cases. I don’t want to end up giving your mother CPR.”

  “She wears earplugs.” He clarifies trying to stand up.

  I get from underneath him and stand up, grasping him on the way to help him get back on his feet.

  The few steps to his front door are a real obstacle course. He stumbles and holds on to me as if he was no more able to support his own weight. As we get to the door I can’t take it anymore and drop him against the wall.

  He growls as I go through his pockets to find his keys. Can’t this idiot help me? And to top it all, his keychain has a lot to choose from. Does he have the keys to all his drinking sessions friend’s houses?

  It took me several tries to find the right one and he takes advantage of it to fondle me. When the door finally gives in, I move aside to let him in.

  “You have reached you destination.” I point out, and wave him goodbye.

  If I touch him I know that he will play with my senses and I won’t have the will to push him away. I hate the effect he has on me!

  “I could fall down the stairs.” He whispers grabbing me by the waist and pulling me in.

  His hands wander over my body as he reels dangerously. We are plunged in darkness and I know nothing about his house. I fall on top of him when he misses the first step on the stairs. He takes advantage of it by fondling my butt and pressing my crotch against his. I scold him silently and help him to stand up. I shake, praying not to be seen here with him. I do all I can to stay silent whereas he doesn’t seem to care at all.

  As we arrive in front of the door he indicated as being of his room, he seems to hesitate, disoriented.

  “Believe me, if I end up nose to nose with your parents I’ll be the one cutting your balls off.” I whisper, slowly opening the door.

  Once in a safe place, he grabs my ass and lifts me off the ground so that our faces are on the same level. And as I expected, he stumbles thrown off balance by my weight and collapses onto me into a way too soft bed. Hasn’t this bastard done enough tackling for one night? “We arn’t gonna do it.” I whisper as his lips already wander to my navel.

  “We are gonna do it.” He replies, taking off his jacket and his T-shirt with a salacious smile.

  “Your dick is too soused to do anything.” I mock him, caressing his crotch hardening under my touch.

  “How are you so sure I can’t do it? I’m drunk not impotent.”

  “Alcohol inhibits the libido.” I whisper, enjoying his naked chest in spite of myself.

  I have to resist him! We can’t do it, He’s drunk too much. Gosh he’s pathetic, I should be pitying him and not desiring him.

  “Where do you get that from?” He asks taking off my sweater to gain access to my breasts.

  I should have stopped him, but I did nothing. I’m already at his mercy as he vigorously licks my breast and rubs his sex against mine. That idiot knows his stuff! I suffocate from his touch; he’s way more forthcoming in this state. I want to feel his naked body on mine, I want him inside me and I won’t wait until Monday.

  I’m a real slut. And without thinking I answer his question, short of breath:

  “My mother is a sexologist.”

  He perks up and looks at me as if I had just told him I too have balls.

  “So why is she always away?”

  Seriously? That asshole is able to not think about his dick for five minutes to satiate his curiosity. I shouldn’t even answer him; after all, he isn’t part of my life. And then, a big lie comes out of my mouth. Anyway, he won’t remember it tomorrow morning.

  “Her office is in New York.”

  “What about your father?” He insists.

  He’s starting to annoy me with his questions. What the hell does he care? And if I was the big bitch everybody thinks I am, I doubt it would stop him from having a hard-on. Asshole, I’ll make you regret being curious!

  18 — Josh

  I wait for her answer. Curiosity is incredible for sobering up. The mysterious Sandre intrigues me and I want to discover her secret, but she doesn’t seem ready to r
eveal anything to me. She freezes for a short moment, as if my question was somehow terrifying before rolling over and pushing me into the mattress to gain the upper hand. I observe her in the darkness of my room. She doesn’t have makeup on, and her eyes are chattier than her, but I’m way too soused to read anything in them. I almost feel like I’m dreaming. I’m spaced out and I’m consumed by desire for her.

  She’s straddling me and rubbing herself against my hard crotch and kinkily declares while biting my earlobe:

  “Sandre River doesn’t exist. I’m nothing but a fantasy allowing you to get through. You haven’t cheated on anyone. You’re still a virgin; poor thing.”

  And she takes off my pants licking the bottom of my stomach. Yes, I’m dreaming and will soon be in heaven! I can believe anything she says, even though I’m not sure my imagination is strong enough. She sits up straight so I can have a better view at her as she takes off the little clothes she has left. In the darkness of the room the curves of her naked body lit only by the moon, give her a surreal look that excites me even more.

  Once naked, she slides back up my legs, caressing my parts. A growl comes out of the back of my throat and she pushes her lips against mine to muffle the sound I can’t hold back.

  “I would like to imagine you this way every night.” I whisper, trying to penetrate her.

  I’m so tipsy that I don’t even realize I’m about to do it without a condom. She moans and I arch my back when my dick finally slides in. My God, it feels so good! I would never have imagined how different it could feel without a piece of plastic between us. I can feel her wet warmth, the softness of this part so fragile. I could come right away!

  Sandre slips a hand between us and I growl as she slowly takes me out. I think it’s over, that she’ll leave me here in a state worse than agony. Crap, oh crap, I don’t have rubbers in my room!

  And as I’m about to express my frustration, a lovely strawberry smell awakens my senses and the thin rubber slides down my tool. She thought about it!

  With an endless delicacy, she repositions me inside her. I shiver and grab her butt to get deeper into her. I can’t take it anymore! I feel like I’ve had a hard-on for a week.

  “I won’t be able to hold on much longer.” I say suffocating, already close.

  “Don’t worry me neither!”

  And like an answer to my pleading, she accelerates the rhythm, with wide and deep hip thrusts. She does all the work and it is even better! I think I’m telling her that I’m close, that my body is on the edge of coming, but my words are no more than inaudible groans. I press her harder, pushing my fingers deeper into her cute little ass and an explosion of sensations entirely fills me up as she arches her back one last time, panting.

  I spend most of my Saturday in a haze. I have an impressive headache, but my mother holds back all comments; that’s a prerogative after winning.

  I still have Sandre all over my skin. I don’t know any more if I dreamt or if it really was her last night, but I want to smell the sweet perfume of her naked body again. I didn’t hear her leave yet she wasn’t here anymore when I woke up, although I thought I was holding her in my arms. There’s only her fruity sent left on my pillow that I hug tightly as if I could miss her.

  Her burning skin on me and her warm breath on my neck still feel so real that I think she came back when my mother opens my curtains on Sunday morning. I jump up startled trying to hide her, but there’s no one there. My mother eyes me as she would a stranger exposing himself before her when I realize I have a boner and that my thin sheet isn’t concealing anything at all. Holly crap!

  She leaves the room ignoring my panicking look and adds as she closes the door:

  “You have one hour to be impeccable and fresh like the perfect son you are.”

  Perfect of course! Does she really mean that? Oh God I’ll have to put up with the pastor’s sermon! Thanks to my father she tolerates that I miss a few ones, but after getting wasted two weekends in a row I don’t have the privilege of dodging anymore. That’s all I needed to chill my ardors on the spot.

  I took out my dark suit and my burgundy shirt. I know my mother would prefer it if I wore a tie, but wearing a thing like this is worse than being stuck in an elevator.

  In front of the church, everybody is classy and elegant. I spot Marcy in a splendid frilled turquoise dress. It seems stupid, but in moments like this, she doesn’t have any effect on me. It’s most probably reverend Clark’s proximity that disturbs my senses. I go to greet her parents and kiss her discreetly, like the well behaved boy that I’m supposed to be. I feel like a terrible fraud in the middle of this stiff and puritan world. If she knew what I’ve been doing behind her back those past few days! I’m ashamed, but how good it was!

  Forgive me God for thinking about this kind of thing in such a place, but seriously, if you have never tried it, you should. Really, you will not regret. I’m out of my mind; here I’m trying to corrupt the almighty! On the other hand, I’m sure he’s already tried it, how selfish.

  I pretend to be listening to Marcy’s father, as always talking about his umpteenth fishing session, when I notice Mrs Shepard’s upset expression. She spotted my mother having a big discussion with Steve’s. In the parish, only a few people talk to this friendly woman. Mrs Marchal hasn’t done anything wrong except maybe being beautiful and without a husband. And in a lost place like Winsted, that’s enough to be accused of having made a pact with the devil. If my mother talks to her it’s only by empathy or maybe because she appreciates Steve. If only she knew!

  Once I get into the church I’m already suffocating. It’s crazy but I’m sure the pastor knows everything and that the sermon will be for me. It’s horrible when he does this kind of personalized speech and everybody tries to figure out who he’s looking at to know the sinful idiot. Today it’s going to be for me and it’s gonna be hell!

  When he starts talking about new technologies and the dangers of addiction, I’m so relieved that I feel like I’m going to pass out.

  After all, he isn’t a virgin anymore either! I’m young and not yet married! If I don’t do stupid things now when will I do them?

  To try and look like a correct guy as much as possible, I fight sleep for the rest of the ceremony. When I think my ordeal is over, my mother tells me to sit back down and turns to my father.

  “I need to talk to reverend Clark, take Colin. We’ll meet at the Donnell’s, Josh and I will walk there.”

  She looks very upset. I wonder what’s tormenting her this much to make her need to talk to the pastor about it, and why punish me on the way? I feel like their conversation lasts forever. I try to make out some of the words to pass time, but nothing. My mother is a smart woman, rational, what kind of problem could need reverend Clark’s opinion?

  I think I’m finally out of trouble when we leave the humid shack, but I realize my ordeal is only just beginning, when she asks, eyeing me like never before: “How could you do this to Marcy?”

  “What are you talking about?” I say, stupefied.

  I thought it was over, that I was through, but no!

  “I know you weren’t at Steve’s this week and that you didn’t go to see Marcy…that you’re not a virgin anymore…Who’s the slut accepting to sleep with a boy she knows is already taken?” She ends up adding.

  I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack when my heart starts racing in my chest. Maybe it would be better than what awaits me. Crap! How can she know? How can she ask me something like that? Can’t she mind her own business for once? A mother to son conversation like this should never happen.

  Oh fu…ck!

  “That’s what you were talking about with reverend Clark?” I finally ask, trying to stay calm.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “You talk about my private life to the pastor and I don’t get a say? What kind of messed up world are we living in?”

  She told father Clark all about this. I’m dying of embarrassment! How does sh
e dare revealing him my wrongdoing? Next sermon sure is for me! I’m suddenly really mad at her. How could a guy like him understand. I’m sure she hasn’t even talked about it to my father; he at least would have reasoned her.

  “Joshua I want an answer.” She says madly.

  Crap! She calls me by my whole name only when I’m in very big trouble.

  “No way. My private life is none of your business and if I want to screw my life up it’s my problem.”

  I would like to add some insanity to my tirade, just so she finally gets that I’m not the perfect son she’s imagining, but her cold irises freeze me on the spot, so I settle for thinking them. Fucking shit, I’m in trouble! “Really? That’s how you take it?” She answers with a surprisingly calm tone. “You see the problem Josh, is that you are still underage. You live under my roof with my money…you are grounded until further notice and I don’t care if you want to see Marcy or Steve. No going out for whatever reason…And about the slut, who dared to pervert my son, I’ll find out who she is and I’ll make sure her parents send her to a convent before she gets close to you again. Is that clear?”

  My mother has always been gifted for proclaiming the worst threats. At court, the opposition must really have a bad time with her. And even though it’s not the terrible fait she plans for Sandre, I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes when she finds out who she is.

  Her big blue eyes are plunged into mine, she’s waiting for me to surrender ashamed, but I refuse to grant her this privilege. I’ve never sworn fidelity! I’ve just granted myself some good time and protected myself. So what is all this fuss about?

  She ends up giving up and strides away. I’m still frozen on the spot. I’m mad at her, I’m so mad at her for judging me without knowing. I would like to show her that I’m not about to surrender this easily and without thinking, I yell as she’s already a few yards away:

  “I have a presentation; I have to work at the library.”