Waves and Light: Opposites Attract Series

by Elizabeth J. Merrill

  “Right,” I almost shouted and slid my fingers out of her panties to grab the condom I kept under the pillow. While I knelt and rolled on the condom, she wiggled the rest of the way out of her panties. As soon as my fingers rolled the condom onto the base of my penis, she grabbed it and guided it into her vagina without foreplay, but we didn’t need it. My penis felt like re-bar and her vagina was its own special slip and slid. She started pistoning beneath me, powerfully ramming her vagina onto my penis while she pressed her lips to mine and squeezed my arms. I tried to keep pace with her wild hips while also supporting my weight so that I wouldn’t obstruct her movements or crush her. I breathed harder. She moaned. Sweat dripped into my eyes. All too soon, my balls started to tighten up. She wrapped her legs around my middle while still pounding away.

  “Oh god, oh god!” she cried and shuddered and clung to my chest. I could feel her vagina pulsing around my cock setting off my orgasm. I closed my eyes tighter and felt my jizz shooting into the condom. She continued to shudder and moan. Eventually I finished and her vagina stopped gripping my cock and her moans subsided. I eased my self down on the bed beside her and gently cradled her to my chest, but I was still panting and my heart still pounded. I held her and stroked her while our breath slowed. I relaxed; she relaxed; our breathing began to sound normal, and I guess I fell asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up shivering and my cock had shriveled inside the condom. The clock read 1:39. I was pretty sure it meant am. I eased out of bed and reached down for the comforter at the foot of my bed and covered up B. D. I went to the bathroom and cleaned up then snuggled into a more comfortable position next to B.D. under the covers and promptly fell back to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  B.D.

  I woke up when David slid back into bed beside me, spooning his body around mine under the covers. Within minutes, I heard the regular breaths of a man in deep sleep. I opened my eyes and stared at the wall. What have I gotten myself into? I was falling for David entirely too quickly. Already I was starting to need him, to need to talk to him, to share with him, to kiss him, to fuck him. The first time we had sex, I could have passed that off as an in the moment thing. And the next morning was just morning sex. But tonight, it was a needful thing, a desperate thing. Some cathartic release that we both needed. We shared something. And it was pulling me in. What if Wendy was right as she had apparently been the entire time? What if he picked a girl every semester and switched her out for a new one the next semester. I wasn’t sure if I could just walk away from this, but if he left me? Would getting over him prove to be a big distraction? Dad was already disappointed that I wasn’t attending an ivy league school. How disappointed would he be if I dropped out of a state school or didn’t get into a top school for graduate school? I couldn’t get in too deep with David. I made a promise to myself to enjoy the moment and not to get too deeply involved so it wouldn’t hurt too badly when it ended. Unfortunately, I had a sneaking suspicion that just like promises that this would be the last potato chip, it wasn’t one I would be able to keep.

  The next morning the throbbing in my bladder woke me. I carefully crawled over David and padded to the bathroom to relieve myself then back to the room to get dressed, but when I bent over to pick my panties up off the floor, David grabbed my arm and pulled me back into bed. He slid to the far side of the bed and pulled me under the covers and into his arms without opening his eyes. I tried to protest, but he was so warm and cuddly in a sleepy, languid, Sunday-morning kind of way, I couldn’t resist him. Then he lazily kissed me—one long, slow kiss that seemed to go on for forever. He nuzzled my neck where it met my shoulder then trailed a few small kisses up my neck while casually stroking the top of my left breast. Then he went back to kissing my mouth while nonchalantly running his hand down my side and around to cup my butt. He squeezed and stroked my butt while kissing me while seemingly still asleep. At some point his kissing became more urgent, insistent. His other hand slid between us and cupped my mound then started stroking my clit in a slow, casual way. My nipples pebbled and his penis, already stiff with morning wood, started to dig into my belly. I felt the wetness start to drip down my butt. He continued to stroke and cup and kiss until my languid moans became needy and urgent then he abruptly stopped. My eyes snapped open to stare into his eyes. “Ready?” he asked. I nodded vigorously. He slid his finger under a copy of Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling on the shelf over the bed and retrieved a condom. He ripped open the package and rolled it on without breaking eye contact with me. Once the condom was on, he wasted no time lining up with my vagina and plunging his penis into me with one powerful thrust. His move caused shock waves of pleasure to radiate out from my spine through my hands and feet to the tips of my fingers and toes. This time, he drew himself out of me slowly, but then plunged himself in quickly and deeply. His hands stroked my breasts then slid down to grip my butt. His lips kissed me in a slow but commanding way like he was savoring the taste. He occasionally pulled back to stare into my eyes, but never stopped the deliberate, inexorable thrusting of his cock into my pussy. Under his ministrations, my muscles relaxed like they would under the hands of a good masseuse, but my breath got quicker and my heart pounded. All too soon, I felt my core draw tight. My scalp tingled like something was drawing across my skull and the need for release became almost painful and then my orgasm exploded. White light flashed behind my eyes and my vagina began squeezing and fluttering. I couldn’t help it; my back arched into the orgasm, and I moaned loudly summoning David’s release. For several minutes we clung to one another moaning and pulsing and panting. Eventually though our breath slowed; out heartbeats normalized; our bodies melted into one another. Once we stilled, David kissed me slowly and gently then awkwardly crawled over me and into the bathroom. While he was cleaning up, I remembered my bag and put the clean clothes on my dirty body. I hate doing that but it was better than putting last night’s dirty clothes on. David had no such qualms. He picked his jeans off the floor and slid them on without boxers. He yanked a clean t-shirt off a hanger and drug it over his body and slipped on a pair of black Van’s. We headed toward the cafeteria.

  As I picked at my ham omelet, David shoveled in his “healthy” breakfast of granola, yogurt, and fruit. “What’s on the agenda for today?” he asked.

  “As I already explained, “ I answered annoyed, “I have a ridiculous amount of work to do, so I planned on spending the afternoon trying to knock it out.”

  “Unlike you, I scheduled myself to staff the tutoring center from noon to four. And it almost certainly will be busy,” he replied with irritation humming just below the surface.

  I blushed and looked down in embarrassment,”thanks for that. I might actually finish everything. Still I plan to stay in and knock this stuff out. I guess we’re not meeting at 2?”

  “Naw. I completely forgot about the tutoring center. What about this evening? Up for some Double Dave’s?” he asked.

  “I’m always up for greasy, cheesy food. Since the cafeteria is closed, I was planning to take a break off campus anyway.”

  “Great, let’s just walk over to the one off the drag. And after you can help me with Baker’s homework if I need it.”

  “Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

  David walked me to my door. “Will you be in your room this afternoon?” he asked.

  “Yep, getting that work done. Wendy probably won’t turn up until late this afternoon.”

  “I’ll just head to your room around 6 or so.”

  “See you then.” I turned to open my door, but he grabbed my shoulder before I could duck in. He moved up to my jaw and tipped my chin up so that he could gently nibble my lips and give me a light kiss. I kissed him back as much to acknowledge his gesture as anything. Then I slipped into my room, shut the door, and sighed. “What have I done?”

  I took a shower and put on another set of clean clothes and spent the day rotating between homework assignments history, then math, government, then physics. It w
as the only way I could stay on task without become completely brain numb. About 4pm, Wendy rolled in. She immediately saw I was in major work mode. “So, how’s the ‘ole nose?”

  “Huh?” I gave her a quizzical look.

  “The one you’ve obviously got firmly planted on the grind stone.”

  “Oh, ha, ha. I just had a lot of regular work to get done this weekend. It’s like my professors got together and decided to load me up. I can imagine that they all got together, rubbing their bony hands together, and whispering, ‘the week before midterms we’ll get her. We’ll give her more reading and problems than she had the entire first half of the semester put together. That will show her.”

  “I think my professors had the same plan, but I showed them. I blew it all off and went home,” answered Wendy.

  “Speaking of,” I asked, “How was the trip and how’s the fam?”

  “Good, good, but boring. Aaron was back home. He just finished PJ basic training, and he looked beat and thin. I think he lost 15 pounds, and he did not have it to lose. The way he talked about it, I think he almost dropped out, but knowing Trey would never let him live it down kept him in. The training is really evil. They work you to death and almost drown you. And they make it really easy to drop out. They keep an air horn with them at all times and all you have to do to drop out is blow the horn and announce to everyone you’re dropping out. No one tries to talk you out of it. They don’t let you take it back once you get a chance to think about it. It’s evil, but Aaron said every time he thought about all the snide comments that Trey would make, and he kept going. Now he’s got 18 months of medic training. I hope it’s worth it.” She threw her bag onto her bed and stashed clean clothes while she talked. She always came home with a bag full of clean clothes. I was so jealous.

  “Trey’s your oldest brother and Aaron is youngest, right?” I asked.

  “Yep, Trey’s actual name is Zebadiah, yes, really. But no one walks around with the name Zebadiah in the twenty first century, so he goes by Trey because he’s the third Zebadiah Abraham Samuelson. My dad goes by Zeb; I guess that works for someone born in the sixties. Aaron is the youngest, but only by fifteen minutes. Bradford’s his twin. Trey and Aaron are both PJs—special forces medics in the Air Force. They’re sort of like Navy Seals, but with medic training. Bradford’s the Navy Seal.”

  “You have three brothers in special forces units?”

  “Four actually. My brother between Trey and Bradford is Xavier. He’s a Green Beret.”

  “Seriously, how come I didn’t know this before?”

  “You knew all my brothers were in the military,” she argued.

  “Sure it’s one thing to be in the military and another thing entirely to be in Special Forces.”

  “I think they were all competing with my dad. He was in the Marine version of special forces before they called it that. Notice none of them actually joined the Marines. They were all trying to compete/make him proud without leaving themselves vulnerable to a direct comparison. It makes my mother a little crazy. Trey fortunately is in Germany, but Xavier is in Afghanistan and Bradford is stationed in Virginia, but he could end up on missions around the world. He usually doesn’t tell her where he goes.”

  “I can see how that might make a mother worry a bit,” I commiserated.

  She looked around the room with a suspicious look on her face. “More than just a bit. So what did you do all weekend?”

  “You know, the usual. I had a shift at the tutoring center yesterday. I had dinner with David last night, and we uhhh watched some Netflix.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “Yeah, the room looks really clean.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

  “For one thing, your bed is made. You usually only make your bed if you plan on being gone. If you’ve been here all day studying, you wouldn’t make it. And there’s very little trash. Only one soda can, one bag of chips, and one banana peel lying on your desk. That means you’ve only been working here a few hours. You usually don’t bother to sweep that all in the trash can and empty it (she peeked inside my trash can) until Sunday night. What’s going on?”

  I started out trying to lie. I gestured around the room. “You know, I didn’t think it was fair to you, so I decided to to clean up to break up the study…” She looked at me with complete disbelief in her eyes. I pursed my lips. “Okay, I spent the night with David.”

  “I knew it!” she chortled.

  “He’s not gay, and he definitely knows his way around a woman’s body.”

  Her eyes got wide, “Tell me.”

  I looked at her shyly, “I’m not the kiss and tell type, but I did have at least two orgasms every time we did it. One time, I had an actual out of body experience.”

  “How many times did you “do it”(with finger quotes)?” she asked eagerly.

  “Only four times,” I shrugged my shoulder.

  “Oh only four times in two days and today isn’t over yet!”

  “Turns out David likes sex. As far as I can tell, he likes every kind of sex. Desperate, fast, hard sex; slow, deliberate, intense sex; sleepy sex; oral sex; lazy sex; kinky sex; if it has to do with sex, David likes it and frankly, although I didn’t know before, I like it too,” I declared definitively.

  “You didn’t know before because you never had sex with someone who knew what they were doing.”

  “Yeah, sadly that does seem to be the case,” I nodded in agreement.

  “I’m glad you finally got to have decent sex, but don’t get too attached. He’s got a reputation. Enjoy the ride, but eventually you’ll have to get off the roller coaster.”

  “Of course, I’m well aware of David’s reputation; I’m only here for the orgasms.”

  She looked me in the eye and said, “Good, I don’t want to spend weeks feeding you ice cream and listening to Amy Winehouse.”

  “Your ears and your waistline are safe.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Good,” I nodded again, but neither one of us believed it.

  True to his word, David knocked on my door just after at 6pm.

  “Up for some Double Dave’s?” he inquired.

  “Greasy carbs are just what I need about now. Can Wendy come with?”

  “Of course,” he replied a bit hastily.

  I turned back and shouted at Wendy, “Double Dave’s?”

  She considered it for a minute. “ I really shouldn’t, but a girl’s gotta eat.” She practically threw down the book she was reading and grabbed her purse. I grabbed mine, and we started our trek across campus.

  At Double Dave’s Wendy moaned so loudly when she sunk her teeth into her first Peproni roll, I thought we’d get a ticket for something stupid like aural pornography. The entire restaurant stared at her. And a few frat boys were strategizing about how to get her number.

  “Wendy, you’re embarrassing us,” I hissed.

  “I can’t help it. I’ve been on a low carb diet, and these just taste so good.”

  “You really don’t need to be on a diet,” I protested while eying her model-thin body. “I know models need to be thin, but isn’t there some movement to require minimum bmi’s or something.”

  “There is, but I’m nowhere near the limit. And my agent e-mailed me last week that he got me into Galliano’s spring run way show—it’s during spring break, can you believe my luck?—and that’s a big deal, but I need to lose 5 more pounds or they’ll boot me out. He’s got me booked for two shoots over Christmas break and then more shoots and run way shows over spring break, but I can’t gain any weight and to do the Galliano, I have to lose 5, but it will be easier to do over Christmas. I just need to not gain any weight now. Then I’ll be set for money for the rest of the year even if I do have to spend money on my car.”

  “What’s wrong with your car?” I asked.

  “It’s making this strange grinding noise when I make sharp turns, and it’s just harder to turn in general. I need to get it checked out.
You have a Civic, don’t you David?” she asked while turning to David.

  David pointed to his mouth then made an exaggerated swallowing motion. “Yep, and I have a stand up guy at Rising Sun Automotive on south Lamar. He’s absolutely honest and knows everything there is to know about Hondas. If you want, we can drive over Monday morning and drop off your baby. “

  “Thanks! That sounds great, but I have an 8 o’clock class. I’m free at 9 though. Can you make it then?”

  “No problem. I don’t have class until Welch’s at noon. Let’s just meet in the lobby at 9 and we’ll walk over to the parking lot together,” he suggested.

  “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

  “Great.”

  “Hey, Wendy, tell David about your upcoming recital,” I urged.

  “He’s not interested in that,” she shrugged me off.

  “Sure he is, tell him.”

  Wendy gave David a questioning look, “if you think you might be interested, my first dance recital is two weeks from Tuesday. It’s entitled, “Fighting the Tyranny of Music.” The music of all the dances are from specific genres, but we use interpretive dance to express the emotions and thoughts the music evokes instead of choreographing in ways typical for that musical genre. For example, I choreographed my piece to hip hop music, but using modern dance moves. Isabel is using music from the Nutcracker, but modern dance choreography. We let our bodies determine the dance not conventions created by our minds.”