by Devin Sawyer
I slowly smooth my hands over her entire torso, feeling her breasts, her nipples, her neck, her delicate and soft stomach. I finally reach her shorts that are entirely too short for the public. If she were mine, she would have never made it out of the house dressed like that. I would have fucked her and made her change after I had come all over those shorts. I unbutton them slowly, without looking, trying my best to give her all of my attention and not give her a second’s rest that she could find something to regret in any of the beautiful acts I’m hoping to commit. I finally loosen them and slide them down to her ankles, where I see her step out of them. Her hands come to rest on my shoulders to balance herself. I immediately move to touch her between her thighs. One less layer than we had last night and I’m so desperately impatient. When I find her core, her panties are wet and the material is flimsy and weak and does little to mask every little curve and fold of hers.
I crawl out of the chair and I fall to my knees. I need to see her better. I get my first look and lust shoots through my body like an electric wave. My mouth is drawn to her and I firmly press my tongue against her most sensitive area. She gasps, loudly, as if I’ve startled her and I realize that I didn’t warn her of what I was going to do. I run my hands up her torso again as if to coax her into relaxing. I continue to suck and kiss her through her underwear, but I need more. I draw a hand up her thigh and gently pull them to the side. I stare up at her and her eyes are no longer closed but watching me intently with a half-mast look as if she has had too much to drink, but I know that is not the case. I know her eyes are unable to see past the intense lust and pleasure she’s experiencing. She is so unsure and unaware of what is happening. At turtle speed I move my mouth back closer to her mound, breathing out warm air and close my lips over her again. Her eyes close on contact and her head is thrown back against the wall, her eyes clenched tight. I continue to lick up her slick folds and I can feel her wetness all over my mouth and cheeks.
“This is heaven,” I growl. “I’m going to slide a finger in you now. If it hurts in any way just let me know.” I warn her this time heeding my previous mistake of putting my mouth on her without warning.
I move my mouth back to licking and stroking her, small moans escape her, and I lift her left leg up and place it on my shoulder and then follow with the other leg. I want all other weight pushing into me. I use one arm to help support her and her own hands go to the wall and the desk nearby in an attempt to support some of her own small frame. I’m devouring her and I’m frantic. I lick all around her, getting to explore her with my mouth for the first time. I explore and attune myself to what pleases her. I feel her clench and tighten with an exhale when something feels good. I whisper to her how beautiful she looks and how badly I want her to come for me and only me.
“It feels like I have wanted you for so long,” I tell her. The pressure of vulnerability wraps itself around my heart and constricts like a boa constrictor on its last meal. I regain my focus and return to attending to her physical demands.
It is only when she is writhing against my mouth that I take a finger and apply light pressure around her entrance. I give her time to understand what’s going on and after just a moment I begin pressing into her. I feel wet warmth hugging my finger. She’s so tight and I’m no longer sure if I have the capacity or kindness to take her virginity. Each time we see each other, we take things farther and farther. I introduce her little by little. I’ve never been with a virgin though, I’m not patient enough for this kind of sweet torture. She is timid, much like last night, but she is letting go with me. I go slowly at first and increase only when I can tell she’s comfortable, which is pretty easy to pick up on because her breathless voice mumbles, “Don’t stop” and then is lost again to some moaning and nonsensical babbling. Her want and need and desire have me so rock hard I’m uncomfortable in my jeans, but I can’t put her down to take care of myself. I keep pumping into her with one finger at a rhythmic pace. Her breathing is low and shallow, and she has become eerily quiet, I know she’s focused on her body. I get this way when I’m about to have an orgasm too, so entrenched in the feeling that it’s all I can think about. I change nothing. I keep at her, doing what I’m doing and then I feel the slightest clench of her around my finger and half a second later comes a broken cry from her mouth. Sweet release.
When her shaking body finally subsides, I place her feet back on the ground and I stand, adjusting my erection so it’s not so painful and through her lust ridden eyes she watches as I lick my fingers clean.
I pull her bra and top back up over her shoulders as she’s currently still suffering from sex brain.
“I want to live with that taste on my tongue.” I bend to pick up her shorts and slide them over her feet and after she lazily steps into them, I pull them up and fasten them for her. I take a second to just be close to her. I’m still hard but it’s fading some now that she’s dressed. I don’t expect anything in return from her. I simply lean into her and breathe her in, dropping light kisses at her temples and around her face. Is this what they call pussy whipped? I want it so bad. I want all of her so badly.
She playfully slaps me on the chest. “That was a very bad thing to do, Mr. Holdridge. Now I have to face your friends after this.”
“What? You don’t like bad boys, Ms. Mason?”
“Therein lies the problem,” she says as she pulls away from me, walking toward the door, and just before leaving the room turns to finish. “…I like the baddest one of all.”
Man, I’m fucking crazy over this girl. I can think of a million “bad things” I’d like to do to her, but I’m not really so bad. And I definitely won’t be bad to her, because this girl has got me by the balls. I’ll be everything for her. I follow behind her out of Jeff’s room. There are a few people still inside, but for the most part, it seems the living room has cleared out, and I assume everyone headed outside. I catch up to her just as she’s about to open the door to head out there, but I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her back into me one more time.
“You’re driving me wild, you know it?”
She spins and faces me. “Why don’t you DRIVE me back to your place tonight? I told my parents I’d be at Emily’s for the night.”
“Are you serious?” Either my heart has stopped or it’s beating so rapidly I can’t differentiate between the pulses.
“Mmhmm,” she confirms, rubbing her lips together. I pick her up and twirl her in a circle and listen to her girlish squeal. I pepper her face with kisses.
“Alright, get out there before I sneak you home right now.”
She scampers outside, and I laugh to myself. I am so fucking giddy that I don’t even grab a drink. I don’t need anything else tonight when I feel as good as I do. Ari goes to sit next to Chelsea and I’m comforted by the fact that she feels relaxed enough to leave my side, and that she has someone here she can bond with. I look around the party and Jeff and Aaron are fast approaching in my direction.
“We’ve been looking for you.” Jeff insinuates he knows where I was with his tone.
“But when we saw the closed door we stopped, obviously,” Aaron finishes for him.
“Yeah, I was just showing Ari the state championship football trophy.” We’d all agreed to let Jeff take the trophy after what he’d been through that year.
“You needed the door shut for that?” Jeff digs a little deeper.
“I just didn’t want Leila or one of the other girls coming in, and interrupting us. That’s all.”
They don’t believe me. I don’t care. It is a lie. I just am not up for sharing something that feels like it belongs just to us, at least for now.
“I’ll catch up with y’all later.”
I walk past them and go to join Ari. Leila catches my eye as I walk over to her and she offers a small genuine smile that tells me she gets it. She knows I’m happy. I give her a small smile back, a thank you of sorts. I join Ari who’s sitting on a small blanket on the back of a truck bed with Chelse
a.
“Scoot over and make room for me, you two.” I sit down and pull Ari into my lap between my legs. She rolls her eyes at me as if my possessiveness is unnecessary, but I simply want to feel close to her tonight. Ben and his girlfriend approach us at the truck and let us know they are going out to the race track to make some bets if we want to come. We pass. I have a feeling we won’t be here much longer either. Aaron and Jeff join us as well and we all shoot the shit outside for a bit longer. Aaron continues to give Ari a hard time about where Emily is and why she hasn’t called him back. Ari laughs it off and tells him she told him so. It doesn’t appear Aaron is that bothered. They hit it off that night, but neither are the type to be tied down it seems. I’ve never seen Aaron tied down to anyone. Even Jeff has only been with Chelsea and the dynamics of that relationship have changed so much since his dad passed. This might be the reason that I’m getting odd stares from both of them. I ignore it, they’ll learn to adjust the longer that Ari and I are together.
I check my watch for what feels like the hundredth time that night. It’s just past eleven and I officially declare that we’ve stayed long enough to be cordial.
“Don’t you have a curfew? We should probably get you home,” I ask Ari just loud enough for the others to hear.
“Ah come on guys it’s only eleven. The night is young,” Aaron persuades. But I feel Ace start to stir off my lap.
“Whelp, curfew is curfew. Can’t miss it.” She plays along, and I send a smile her direction.
We say goodbye to everyone and I see her exchange phone numbers with Chelsea before we leave.
Jeff hands me his keys and I let him know I’ll bring the truck back in the morning. After a few tweaks on the LeBaron, she should be up and running and Ari will be the one with wheels this time.
She’s quiet on the walk to the truck but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. I open the door for her and she hops in. I jog around to the other side and as I slide in and she scoots over to the middle of the bench seat and fastens herself in there. I lift her chin and look at her.
“You’re adorable, and I can’t get enough of you.”
“Good…” She smirks. “Because you’re kind of stuck with me.”
I kiss her with the promise of tonight lingering on my lips. When we finally pull back from each other, I have a renewed interest in getting home as quickly as possible and I start the truck. She leans into me and rests her head on my shoulder as we drive. I have never known anything as powerful and warm as this feeling and it is so overwhelming, the way it takes over my mind and my body and directs all the energy at her.
Within a few moments into our drive, I feel her lean even farther into me and her hand begins to caress my leg and I’m surprised the sensation alone doesn’t cause me to slam into the accelerator. She makes circles and I feel her breast push into me at the same time her tongue reaches the area of my neck just behind my ear and a low groan of impatience escapes my throat. I look up into the rearview mirror and see blue lights flashing behind me.
“Shit,” I murmur and pull to the side of the road attempting to straighten myself in my jeans and Ari sits up in her own seat to look back at the police cruiser.
Chapter 14
Ari
“Can I help you, Officer?” Torren’s voice is smooth and considerate as he rolls down the window and I can hear and sense the police officer approaching the driver side of the car. I hadn’t realized we were speeding, but my entire body feels numb or maybe overly sensitive. I’m not sure, exactly, I just know it’s so foreign to me that I don’t want it to end. I like the way it feels, I want to keep it forever. A half-moment later I see the officer bend down and his face clears the car window and comes into view. He’s attractive, appears young, and his built and toned body tells me that he’s worked hard at staying in shape. Beside me, Torren breathes out a deep breath, he looks away from the officer, and I see his eyebrows pinched together with concern.
“Well, Torren Holdridge, it’s good to see you, buddy!” The voice coming from the officer is filled with exuberance. My brain feels like it’s still bouncing around from all my earlier excitement in the night. I know in my current state of overstimulation I’m not picking up on all the clues around me, but something feels…off. This interaction doesn’t feel right. Officer Dutche, whom I identify from the engraved silver placard resting on his left breast, is uncomfortably happy for having just pulled someone over, and Torren looks like he doesn’t want to be here, but it’s clear these two know each other.
“Hey Dutche, how’s it going?” Torren’s exacerbated voice resonates minutely with dislike. Like it hurts him to ask the question.
“Not bad Holdridge, just living the dream.” Only douche bags say that, I think quietly to myself. “This doesn’t look like your vehicle. Do you have your license and registration?”
Torren reaches for his license and insurance information in his wallet on the dashboard.
“Yeah, I borrowed the truck. Did I do something wrong? I don’t think I was speeding.”
I remain silent as I watch the interaction between these two, trying to pick up on any social cues that I can. I watch as Torren hands over the two documents and briefly makes eye contact with Officer Dutche.
“Sit tight.” He pounds his hand on the roof of the vehicle twice and walks back to his cruiser to run the information.
“Torren,” I start, wanting some sort of explanation but not really sure what it is I’m asking for.
“Michael Dutche. He hates me, he always has,” he starts without looking at me, his eyes and face pointed straight ahead. “Look, Ari, I’m really hoping he has matured since high school, that we both have, but Dutche and I have a lot of history together and none of it’s good. Rival schools, rival athletes, rivals with girls, especially with girls. So please, don’t say anything unless he speaks directly to you. Can you do that for me, Ace?” I nod my head, a little concerned for Torren. He seems shaken, and that is such a remote expression for him. I want nothing more than to be a comfort for him in every way, for him to never experience any level of anxiety so I agree blindly. Officer Dutche is back within a few moments. The silence stretching thin amongst us all.
“Holdridge, you mind stepping out of the car please?”
Torren slowly reaches for the handle of the vehicle, doing as he’s told. I know he only wants to comply in order to get out of here, I can feel his concern for me, more than himself, and I feel sad that these are routine experiences here in Glennville. Despite the long feud these two seem to be tangled in, he’s treating the officer with all the respect possible.
I can’t hear the conversation between the two, but I watch them from my position in the front seat as they stand behind the truck and in front of the police cruiser. I quickly figure out that Officer Dutche is having Torren complete a field sobriety test, and I know he must think he’s been drinking or is somehow impaired. I know better, Torren didn’t touch any of the alcohol this evening and I am counting my blessings for that. It’s probably normal to see impaired drivers on the road at this hour, and I assume despite what Torren said about his tumultuous past with the officer that this is a routine stop. I watch closely as Torren appears to flawlessly complete the tasks he’s assigned. They begin to walk back toward the vehicle but Torren stops near the bed of the truck, he still appears stiff and uncomfortable in his own body. The officer proceeds to the window and bends down to where he can see me.
“Ma’am, I’d like to ask you to step out the vehicle as well.” Dutche’s voice is deep and stern. I comply, and he directs me to the back of the vehicle where he and Torren are standing.
“There is some concern that you are under the influence while driving tonight. I watched your truck for a few miles. Are either of you currently under the influence of any substances?”
“No sir, we didn’t drink anything this evening. We are just heading home,” I explain.
“With all due respect ma’am, there are many more substances I am conce
rned about than just alcohol.” Oh, drugs. Duh. I hadn’t even thought of those, but I know their presence in Glennville is frequent.
“No sir. We haven’t done any drugs either.”
“Do you have any illegal substances anywhere on your person or in the vehicle?”
On my person? I shake my head no, and Torren continues to stand motionless beside me. He’s looking down, but in my direction as if to watch me from his peripheral. He reaches for my hand as if to hold it, but Officer Douche quickly reprimands us, requesting that we not make any physical contact. A brief smile crosses his face when Torren releases my hold, and I’m starting to see what Torren had meant. This stop is definitely personal, he has to know that neither Torren nor I are currently drug or alcohol-impaired. We are alert and respectful, and physically adept at everything he has asked of us.
“I’d like to do a search if you don’t mind. We were told earlier tonight, after a drug bust, that they had purchased drugs from a vehicle matching this description and the Glennville Police department has been slowly working to infiltrate the dealers and find the suppliers.” It takes everything in me to hold back the snort when I realize he’s quoted Ice Cube from 21 Jump Street. Torren’s jaw ticks, but I see him move to the side for the officer.
“As I mentioned this isn’t my truck. It’s a friend’s. I’m only borrowing it to get Ms. Mason home,” Torren offers hesitantly.
“That’s alright, I won’t be tearing apart the vehicle, just a basic search if you don’t mind.”
He nods his head, his jaw still grinding tightly.
I go back to grab Torren’s hand as Officer Dutche approaches the vehicle with his flashlight, taking a look under seats, surfaces, and storage areas of the vehicle. It seems like it’s taking a long time, but realistically I know it’s only been a few minutes. Occasionally, cars will pass us on the road, and I want to hide my face for fear of being identified while he searches our vehicle.