Beautiful Torment

by Paige Laurens

  We had a snow day yesterday, and I told Gracie I’m in a crunch to finish a paper, needing something from the library. Mom offers to take her to school on her way to the store, and I’m unbelievably giddy and thankful.

  I’m thrashing the snow off my car so quickly that it gets into my hair, and a big pile plops down on to my boots as I open the door. Still, I clean it off in no time and arrive at school so early that there are no other cars in the parking lot, except for his. A plow is going in the corner, the loud beeping destroying the otherwise alluring silence as I make my way inside.

  There’s a crackling sound from the other side of his office door, it’s slightly ajar; he’s waiting for me.

  I push it open, the door slamming into an empty box as I walk in. It’s a disaster in here!

  “You’re here early,” he’s smiling up at me, sitting on the floor, full of surprise, surrounded by boxes, thick brown paper and bubble wrap, going through and unboxing things I don’t recognize.

  He’s dressed casually today, in jeans and a zip up sweater, but I can see a graphic t-shirt peeking out from underneath. His hair is gelled, causing it to look darker than normal, and he didn’t shave, so a small amount of stubble grows around his lower cheeks and chin. “You know there’s a two hour delay, right?”

  I shake my head, crap, I didn’t know. Maybe Gracie found out by now, but I can’t remember the last time I hung out with any of my friends to warrant a call.

  “You should probably call your house. Let them know you’re okay,” he laughs. “Or just let your sister know about the delay.”

  I slide out of my boots, avoiding the puddle they’ve made on the floor, as I step over his mess, and him, making my way to the phone on his desk.

  “Dial 9 first,” he slides over so I can get past, his hand suddenly making its way up and under the bottom of my pants, wrapping around my ankle. I pick up the phone as his fingers start rubbing my bare skin, a steady stream of energy shooting to my center. I watch him as I talk, his wicked smile making me grin.

  We have all this extra time together now.

  Mom was worried. I guess I was already gone by the time Gracie squealed in delight over the delay. She grills me if the school is empty, if it’s safe, but I assure her I’m fine, that some teacher’s are already here, and she relaxes.

  I hang up, noticing yet another box on his desk. Geez is it messy in here!

  “You brought in Scrabble?” I laugh, turning back, looking down at him still on the floor.

  “No, that’s the trash,” he moves a bunch of wrapping over, making room for me to sit on the floor with him. “I found it while going through the cabinets.”

  “Oh, don’t throw it out!” I grab it out of the box and study it. It looks barely used.

  “You want to play board games?” He chuckles, and I throw the game onto the island. It lands with a bang and I turn back to him.

  “Why, scared you’ll loose?” I tease.

  He pulls me down and I fall onto his lap, giggling.

  “That sound does crazy things to me,” he admits. I turn my face to his, biting my lip. He watches intently as his thumb lightly tugs on my lower lip, moving it away from my upper teeth. He leaves it there as he kisses me, gently and leisurely.

  I undo his sweater, sliding the fabric off his shoulders and down his bare arms, feeling his hard muscles. His white Led Zeppelin t-shirt makes me giggle again, because I have the same one.

  He sighs heavily and turns me around, resting his head on my shoulder as he drags me towards him, closer to his chest, his bulge pressing against my lower back.

  I sit quietly, watching as he starts toying with the metal objects in front of us. He takes them out of their containers; discarding some of the boxes to the one side, while placing them back in others and shoving them in the opposite direction.

  He reads hand-written messages that are included with some of them; letting me know each time he commissioned someone to build this specific part and why. He tries to hide each invoice he pulls out, but I see the insane numbers, wondering just how he has that much extra money lying around. He says most of it is grants, but I can’t help but wonder about the rest.

  Every now and then his fingers lightly graze my sides, or legs, or chest, and he’ll place a kiss on my cheek as he explains what part of the small robot each specific object is for, his voice full of wonder at his wild idea. My heart thrashes in my chest as I lean back against him, because this feeling I have right now, is the most genuine, most wonderful I’ve ever felt.

  I remove his hands from around me and stand. He looks up questioningly, as I unbutton my pants, sliding them down and off me. I see his hard swallow; his eyes ravenous as they travel up and down my now bare legs. I pull my shirt off in one swift motion, exposing my stomach and bra. He starts to protest, questioning what I’m doing, but my underwear has already landed on the floor and I’m unclasping my bra, letting it fall in front of us too.

  It lands on his lap.

  His mouth falls open, he’s rendered speechless, no more words or objections, nothing but air coming out of him now. He stands too, my bra sliding off of him, falling carelessly into one of the open boxes, his eyes still wandering over me, everywhere.

  I’m completely naked in front of him now, breathing heavily as the harsh office light blares down on me, exposed.

  “What are you thinking?” My whispering voice croaks.

  “That you’re an angel,” he breathes. “And how badly I want you… to fuck you.” His eyes meet mine.

  “Then do it.”

  He smiles sheepishly, looking down at the floor. I kick a box away and shove his chest. He’s like putty, easily falling back into his desk chair behind him.

  “Are you on the pill?” He sounds like he has a lump in his throat, like he can’t believe this is going to happen. “I don’t have any protection.”

  I shake my head no, and my eyes find his erection, straining against his pants before returning to his face, full of hunger and need.

  He reaches out and pulls me towards him until I settle firmly in his lap, his hands pressing into my hips as his mouth meets mine.

  “I’ll pull out,” he decides, his want obviously too strong.

  This is it. This is going to happen!

  I don’t waver or hesitate.

  Or think.

  I should have probably asked if he’s clean, but I never did. He didn’t ask me either. Obviously I am, and it turns out he is too, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. This was happening either way.

  He undoes his pants and I get up for a minute, letting him take them off before adjusting myself back onto him, this time putting my legs through either side of the chair, straddling him. His fingers find my folds and he laughs as he caresses me.

  “Always so wet,” he smiles before removing his fingers and licking them. I don’t respond, nervous, as he wraps his other hand around his penis and guides himself to me. His left hand leaves his mouth and envelopes my back, pulling me closer, my breasts squishing against him.

  “Open wider,” he whispers as his tip slides in just past my lips. His right hand joins his left around my back, pressing me down. It stings at first, and I don’t know how he’ll fit it all in, but I’m so wet that the friction feels good. He moves inside almost easily.

  Almost.

  “Shit, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing deeper. I’m holding onto his shoulders hard now, not breathing, because the further he goes in, the more it starts to hurt. I sit up, looking at him. This is intimate, too intimate. Too real for two people who can never actually be together, who shouldn’t be together.

  He growls as he drives his hips up, his head falling back. I squirm, looking away, my cheek falling against his, because there’s too much pressure inside of me now.

  “Are you okay?” He whispers and I nod, unable to talk. “Luci, look at me,” he tries to pull me back, but I rest my chin on his shoulder, not letting him.

  “Just fuck me,” I whisper
in his ear.

  That’s how this has to be. None of that intimacy I feel when I look at him, especially not while we’re like this.

  He moans at my words, his hips never stopping. I refuse to make eye contact, but he nudges my face and I allow him the access he seeks. He places small kisses on my cheek before moving to my neck. His hands move over me, around me. He grazes my nipples with his thumbs and I groan, from both pleasure and pain.

  “Just relax,” his voice is airy, full of ecstasy, his breath hot, tickling my ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

  I try, and as soon as I adjust my straddle he cries out, his hands moving to my ass, pushing me up and down on him faster and harder than before.

  “Uh, that’s it!” He rejoices. “God, Luci, yeah, like that,” his grunts are sublime and his thickness expands, throbbing relentlessly inside of me.

  A tear escapes from the discomfort, as he holds onto me tighter, continually shoving me up and down over and over again. “I’m going to come so hard!”

  Miraculously, the pain begins to subside and it suddenly feels good, him being inside of me.

  Inside of me!

  The way he’s hitting my walls and the feeling as my vagina grabs onto him, wanting this. It’s… everything! I immediately want this so much more. Now, I’m bouncing too, meeting each of his thrusts, opening, accepting him.

  “Oh shit,” he growls at my unexpected movement. “That’s it,” he encourages. “Ride me, Luci. Feel my cock filling you.”

  His dirty words tantalize me, motivate me, allowing me to bask in this experience with him.

  “Harder!” I order. He growls as he yanks me down again. His hand moves between us as his thumb presses against my clit. He leaves it there, pulling me down with his other arm as he shoves himself up, lifting us off the chair.

  “Bounce on me! Yes!” He shouts, his head tilting back, and between his thumb and the spot he’s hitting deep inside me, I’m quivering, crying out loud, practically sobbing as I tremble around him.

  “Oh! Squeeze me! Yeah!” He’s crying out too. “Like that! Oh! You’re making me come!” He quickly picks me up, lifting me off him as he pulls out of me.

  The emptiness hits me, his thumb still lightly rubbing me as I continue to quiver. He lets out a steady groan as he erupts.

  “Luci! Oh fuck, Luci!” Jets of stickiness spill onto my bare stomach and his shirt as he throbs between us.

  We’re gasping for air.

  There’s noise in the distance as people fill the halls. What time is it anyway?

  Neither of us says anything, and when I look his way, he’s staring down.

  “Did I do something wrong?” I bite my lip, ashamed, following his eyes to see the small amount of blood on his otherwise almost stark white shirt.

  Crap.

  “You’re a virgin,” he swallows, his voice steady and even.

  “Not anymore,” I struggle, trying to make light of the situation.

  “It’s not funny.” His mood causes water to pool in my eyes. This was fantastic, I couldn’t have asked for a better first time. Why is he ruining this?

  “You’ve been my first everything,” I admit, the honesty pouring out of me.

  “Everything?” His eyes go wide, and a sad laugh escapes me as a single tear spills over, filtering through my lashes.

  “Fuck,” his eyes soften. “I’m sorry.”

  “You make me feel like a terrible person. I knew what I was doing.”

  His thumb wipes away the wetness.

  “I just wish I knew,” he confesses.

  I don’t say anything, recognizing his look, the one he had when he tried to fight us. I nod slowly, the voices in the hall even louder now.

  “So is this it? You’re going to go back to ignoring us?”

  He looks me dead in the face, shaking his head.

  “I couldn’t if I tried,” he pulls me close as I take a deep breathe.

  “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

  “Here,” he takes it off, turning it inside out before wiping the come off my stomach. His hard, bare, chest takes me aback, and I raise my hands, wanting to touch him, pausing for permission.

  When he doesn’t protest, I lightly trace the contours of his muscles, already squirming again. His cock twitches as he pulls my face towards his, his tongue dipping inside my mouth before he’s all too quickly pulling away.

  “Get dressed,” he orders. “The bell’s about to ring.”

  He doesn’t touch me at all during lunch. He barely looks my way as I sit in his desk chair, swiveling it, watching as he cleans up the mess of boxes.

  He ran out and got pizza for us, and I pick up a few pieces of pasta that fell off my ziti slice, enjoying my last couple of bites.

  “Good, huh?” He laughs at me.

  “You have to try it sometime,” I groan.

  “Maybe I would have if you didn’t just engulf it all,” he jokes. “Thanks for offering, though.”

  “You wouldn’t even!” I shout. “You always say how gross you think it is.”

  He smiles as he takes a sip of his soda, and I can’t help my scrutiny, always so dumbfounded over how striking and statuesque he is.

  I wonder if I’ll ever get over my awe.

  “What?” He asks, moving the bottle away from his mouth.

  “Nothing,” I shake my head.

  “You always look at me that way,” he says, placing the drink on the counter. “And I don’t think I’ll ever figure out why.”

  I’m not ready to admit to anything, so I say nothing.

  “I wonder sometimes though,” he sighs. “What you see.” I swallow my last bite, trying to control my expression. “If it’s the same thing I see when I look at you,” he smiles to himself, fascinated.

  I swallow so hard I can hear my gulp echoing in my ears. He tosses his paper plate in the trash and goes back to breaking down boxes. You can finally see the floor again, and pretty soon, it no longer looks like a tornado ripped though here.

  When he’s satisfied with everything being put in its place, he moves on to the island, clearing off its mess, his hands landing on the board game I put there this morning.

  “So we’re going to play Scrabble?” He opens the box and takes out the board.

  I shake my head, wondering what his deal is, as I get up and grab a stool.

  “No cheating now,” he eyes me, full of whit.

  “I don’t need to,” I smirk. “In fact, I’ll even let you go first.”

  He laughs, and I watch as his chest vibrates while he places his first word on the board.

  “You’re upset with me,” I acknowledge as I lay down my first word. His eyebrow shoots up.

  “You let me have sex with you,” he sighs, throwing his head back. “I took your virginity.”

  “Like I said,” I state calmly. “I knew what I was doing.”

  “Are you hurt? Or sore?” His eyes are kind as I roll my eyes.

  “I’m fine,” I nod at the board. “What’s your word?”

  He turns a leftover so into sorrowful and I shake my head.

  “I didn’t do that on purpose,” he laughs, tallying up the absurd amount of points. “But it seems fitting.”

  “Would you have done it if you knew?”

  Crap, I really need a good word here, he’s killing me already.

  “No, maybe, I don’t know,” he sighs, exasperated.

  “Well, stop feeling bad. Please.” I’m rearranging the letters in front of me in my head. “Besides, it’s not something I advertise,” I admit. “And I kind of thought you may have already known, based on my inexperience with everything else.”

  “Yeah, can we talk about that?” He sways in his chair. “When you said everything, you meant-”

  “Everything,” I answer his question before he finishes asking.

  “Like you never sucked another guys dick before?”

  His words make me blush.

  “What?!” His jaw drops. “But you’re so… go
od.”

  I exhale loudly, finally putting my word on the board. It’s not as many points as his, but it’s the best I could do.

  He doesn’t look at his letters, still watching as I take my new ones out of the pouch.

  “You’ve touched yourself before though?”

  “Yes,” I laugh.

  “God that’s hot,” he sighs and I laugh again before we’re quiet.

  Can we please just get over this?!

  “What about jerking off?” He asks, disbelieving. “Because you’re fucking amazing at that.”

  “So you’re saying the sex wasn’t good because I’ve never done it before?” I tease, knowing that’s not what he meant.

  I’m actually incredibly pleased he thinks I’m so good at these things, that it’s so good for him.

  “I’m not saying that at all!” He shakes his head, his look still incredulous. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  Maybe I’m an idiot for being so truthful, but I can’t help it. Not with him. I sigh loudly, giving him my own look.

  “I’ve never jerked off anyone but you,” I answer his previous question. “You’re my first kiss.”

  His arm hits his letters, accidentally knocking them onto the floor. He doesn’t pick them up, and I watch as he stares at the board, his face furious and annoyed.

  “You’re angry,” I knew it. I understand his reaction, because he realizes, once again, how wrong we are. How inappropriate the things we’ve done are. How young I am, with our nine-year age difference.

  The next time he looks up, his eyes are tender and kind.

  “No… I’m flattered,” he says. “Maybe a little intimidated.”

  I give him a look and he bends down to pick up the pieces.

  “It’s a lot of pressure,” he sighs.

  “How many girls have you been with?” I ask, not really sure I want to know the answer.

  He thinks, and I hope he doesn’t notice the way I cringe. Is it that many that he has to think about it?

  “You’re the eighth,” he answers, like they’ll be more after me. I try not to think about his tone as my eyes go wide, because that’s a lot.

  “Oh come on, it’s not that many,” he laughs uncomfortably. “Well I guess it is compared to your number… but you are by far the best. And I mean, absolute leagues away from anyone else. The way I come with you. It’s unlike anything.”