JOEY

“Do you want to come back to my place and watch my short film?” Joey asked.

He was a filmmaker. We hadn’t really developed a conversational flow yet. It was only our first date, but I’m not sure if we had much to talk about, really. If we ever would. And indeed, if my mind wasn’t so set on a certain task, I might have even ended the evening right there. But this was going to be the night. I had decided on it.

“Sure,” I said. I zipped up my fly. He saw me do it, and he smiled. God, Janie, you’re a dork, I thought. Ignore your zipper.

I had my period so I was quite bloated, and the zipper on my jeans kept coming undone. My date and I had just seen a movie at some quirky little theater deep inside Brooklyn—something violent, and slick, and cool. He wanted to see all the credits at the end. I remember staring at his bald spot, shining, as the theater lights came back up. It came as a surprise—he was wearing a baseball cap in his photo online. Still, he had puppy dog eyes. Fantastic stubble. Wore a hoodie. His voice was lower than I thought it would be. He was more man than I thought he would be. I wasn’t used to men. There was no question, though. He was a man. He was 30. I was 26. It was time.

“I live right down this street,” he said. He put his hand on my lower back. Shit. I thought. Shit. I’m wet already. What am I doing? Just stay focused, Janie.

We walked to his apartment building, in silence, pretty much. He unlocked the front door and we walked up two short flights of stairs to his studio apartment. He unlocked the door. There were piles of records everywhere. It smelled a bit like beer, wet towels. There was a bare light bulb hanging by a string in the hallway.

“Should I take off my shoes?” I asked.

“If you want,” he said. “I don’t care.”

I took my shoes while standing up. He unzipped his hoodie, gray tshirt underneath. He dug his nose into my neck, behind my ear. My pussy throbbed. It’d been so long. In fact, it’d been forever.

“You smell downy fresh,” he said.

“Um, Febreze. This shirt’s actually not even clean—“

“Do you want a drink?” he asked.

“A beer, please.” He opened up the fridge: beer, milk, orange juice, tofu, extra firm.

“You could make a tofu orange milkshake. That’s all, though.”

“Bachelor pad, Janie.”

This was the first time he’d said my name. I liked how it sounded coming out of his mouth.

He gave me the beer. I took a big swig. We stared at each other. I broke eye contact. I was sweating so hard. The cramps in my belly seared. My panties felt so tight. I was all woman. My pheromones must have been meeting his nostrils like a freight train.

“I like your place,” I said. I like your place because I’m at your place, I thought.

“Do you like Radiohead?” he asked.

“Doesn’t everyone?” I found a place on his futon. I sat down. Crossed my legs. Uncrossed. He sat next to me. He took a deep breath. And then he sighed. He was smiling.

“I’m sweating,” I said.

“Are you warm?”

“Kinda,” I said.

“My fan’s broken.”

“Oh, okay…hmmm. Is this Kid A or is it Amnesiac, I always get them con—”

“Janie. Do you mind? If we make out a little bit before we watch my movie?”

“No,” I said. “I don’t mind.”

“Aw, you’re the best.” You’re the best. You’re the best. You’re the best. I kept hearing it in my mind. We began kissing. Kissing, hard. Forcing tongues. Our teeth clicked. It was awkward for a moment, and then my pussy developed a pulse of its own, surged, and my clit began to grow and fast. Is his cock getting hard? I thought. Is this when a guy’s cock gets hard? This early, like as my pussy is getting wet? Would I be able to tell if I felt his cock through his jeans? He answered that question for me by taking my hand and putting it on his crotch. His cock was hard. Very. I moaned. I couldn’t believe I was moaning. Stay quiet, I thought. I rethought: Fuck no, don’t stay quiet. I squeezed his cock through his jeans. He licked my ear. I shuddered, I shook, and I shivered.

“Fuck, whatever I do, you react to,” he said. “You’re so sexy. Let’s see those amazing breasts.”

I took off my shirt and fast.

“We can’t fuck,” I blurted out. “I have my period.”

He laughed. “Janie, who said anything about fucking?” He stood up. He cocked his head to one side. “Stand up,” he said. I did. “Nice bra, honey. Though it’ll look better on my floor, don’t you think?” I nodded and bit my lip. I felt sweat drip down my back. He unhooked my bra. Three hooks. “Big busted girl. I like your curvy body.” God, he wanted me, didn’t he? He really did. It felt so good. I was standing in front of this man, this man I just met. And the room was full of sex. Our creation. Radiohead blared. It was definitely Kid A. He took my nipples between his thumb and his pointer finger, pulled at them a bit, up and down, and as if my tits had strings, they moved with his fingers.

“Such little nipples for such a big titted girl,” he said.

“Oh, I know, I wish I had big black girl nipples, like in pornos.”

“What?” He laughed. “Yours are amazing. Hush.” He raised my left breast up to his mouth and sucked. Oh Jesus Christ. I think I might cum in the same room with a man tonight. I think I might actually do that.

“Fuck,” he brought my hand to his cock, “Janie, feel me. Please, baby.” Oh, I’d forgotten. I was supposed to be doing that. I was supposed to be rubbing his cock. So I did, over his jeans, I cleared my throat and then looked at my hand, watching my hand go, gently massaging his cock. I wondered if I was doing okay. “God, you’re so hot,” he said. “You like my cock?”

“Um, yes,” I said, blushing. “I do.”

He unzipped his fly. Let his jeans drop. His underwear hit the floor. His cock flew up in the air, like a spring, straight up. It gets this hard?? This big? Good lord. That’s a lot of cock. It actually looks—delicious. There was something shiny at the top.

“Pre cum baby. All for you.”

I touched it with my fingers, and brought my fingers up to my mouth. It was surprisingly sweet.

“Oh,” I said. “You taste really sweet.” I was legitimately surprised. I had heard something somewhere about bleach, chlorine, sourness…

“Suck my fucking cock,” he pushed me down on the futon, with some force, but I was right there with him. I sat there on the flattened old cushion. His cock right in my face. There it was. No ignoring it now. I was gonna suck my first cock. At 26. This was the night. I was blinking away drops of sweat. His cock looked so big and so purple. It twitched. Like an animal. I noticed his eyes were closed. I stuck out my tongue. To taste the tip. A bigger hole than I thought. Hmm. Does it open up when aroused? He moaned. Okay, that was a good sign. This ridge, it has a lot of nerves, use your ttongue on that. Hard. Ice cream cone, lollipop, popsicle, cock. Buzzwords. Around the head. Use your tongue, Janie. So I did, I let my tongue travel around the ridge of his cock. But it wasn’t wet enough. So I spat on it. Twice.

“Fuck,” he said. “Spit on that cock.”

“I am!” I said. Oh wait, he’s talking dirty. Okay. I reached down into my panties. It actually felt like I had peed down there. My whole pussy ached. It wanted his cock so badly. But tonight my mouth would have to do, and so I gripped the base of his cock with my hand and put the head in my mouth, swirling my tongue around again. I drooled. Then my mouth went further down on his cock, only and inch or so, and I felt a gag reflex--No, don’t gag. Just relax and moan. So I did. Just like that. I relaxed. And before I knew it I was sucking and slurping him up and down, up and down, hard, my mouth going down, my hand before it, down further, then up and down again. God, this was fun! Such fucking fun! What had I been waiting for?? Oh wait. The balls, never forget the—

“Should I kiss your balls? Or suck them? Or lick them?” Different boys wanted different things done to their balls.

“Whatever you want, baby. You’re taking such good care of me.”

“I am?” I said.

“Yes, you’ve been sucking my cock for forever, and on your knees. Such a good little girl.”

I had lost track of time. “Oh. Do you want to lie on the bed, that way, I can eat your ass too, maybe, you think?”

Everything was a suggestion. I had absolute no idea if that’s what he wanted or that’s what I was supposed to do. It was a giant experiment. But I think he thought I was talking baby talk, being cute and cautious, playing the part of the submissive. But really. I just didn’t have any idea what I was doing. But I was learning. And fast.

“Eat my ass? Oh my god, please.”

He ran to the bed, ripped off his shirt, and lied down on his back.

“Take off your pants,” he said.

My fly was already down, of course. I slid off my pants. There was a huge wet spot on the front of my red cotton panties.

“God, you’re so wet. Let me eat you.”

“I have my period, you can’t. This is—this is for you right now.” God, it was so for me!! “I love sucking your cock.” And I did, I grabbed hold of it with my mouth, and then popped it out, and using my hand, I started rubbing it and slapping it against my face. Against my tongue, eyelids. I wanted to feel his cock everywhere. Its hardness, its strength, its precum, leaking out onto my upper lip. I started to move my ass around in circles, rotating my hips.

“Jesus, that thing you’re doing with your ass. So fucking hot. Are you thinking about fucking me right now?”

“I am,” I said. I guess I was. I hadn’t thought of that. Consciously. But my body will do what it wants to do. I’ve learned that.

“Get up here,” he said. He put me on my back and started tapping his cock against my underwear. Oh gosh. It was so hard. I felt his cock make contact with my clit and I jumped. What the fuck is going on down there? He took my right tit in his mouth and sucked. I said, “ Bite it, please.” And he did, and I screamed and writhed in pleasure. He sucked more and moaned and started dry humping me.

“This is like high school,” he said. “I love that you still have your panties on.”

This is not at ALL like high school, I thought. This is like me being 26 and finally becoming friends with cock. This isn’t like high school at all. In high school, I was praying, I was drawing mystical creatures in my notebook, I was flirting with the homecoming queen and not knowing it, I was singing in chorus, I was inhaling the smoke from matches but never cigarettes, I was getting wet while watching Gilligan’s Fucking Island but I was never sucking cock, and I certainly was never getting my tits sucked and I certainly never—

“Oh Jesus, I think I’m gonna cum!”

That was me, saying that, not him.

“Yes,” he said, “Fucking cum.” He was rubbing my pussy through my underwear, staring at my crotch, using three fingers to massage my clitty over the thin fabric, so intensely, so focused, like he was writing something, or playing his guitar, or listening to a lecture, that kind of focus on my pussy, his cock in his other hand. My back curled, I closed my eyes and pictured his cock in my mouth again, I wanted that cock and Uhhhhhhhh cumming, my juices ran down my thighs, dripping, pretty little mess, my tampon getting soaked within me, my tits sore from his mouth and teeth and from my cramps, the bare light bulb searing its harsh florescent light into my brain, and the waves of pleasure finally hitting my toes which still had mismatching socks on, dammit. My socks. They don’t match. I’m such a tomboy—

“Suck me off, baby.”

Oh yes, him, right, his cock, okay. I put my mouth around it—“Oh, baby no teeth no teeth,” he said. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said and quickly made up for my boo-boo, kissing his cock and then his balls, to make him feel better. I licked his long shaft and those balls every so slowly, and then remembered his ass—I spread his cheeks a bit and flicked my tongue at that at that musky crevice, and he said, “Stay on my cock.” So I went back up to his cock and drooled on it and then took into my mouth and slid down, down, farther now, farther till it hit the back of my throat, I closed my eyes, moaned,. Don’t gag, I thought, and went back up, my lips getting tighter, and then I started a rhythm, up down up down, oh, I had it now, up down, my pussy still aching from cumming, I was so tired, but I had to finish him off I had to, in my mouth, I wanted to taste cum, a man, Please, I hope he cums hard, I really do, make up for lost time with a gallon of man cum streaming down my—

“I want to jerk off on those titties.”

“Oh, my goodness,” I hadn’t thought of that. “That’s very naughty,” I said.

“You’re naughty,” he said. “Get on your back, slut.”

Oh my god, name calling! Amazing! He straddled me, and started playing with himself, mostly just the head of his cock, squinting at me, inhaling, shaking his head a bit, his nipples hard, working that knob of his, I took his hand and licked it, and then placed it back on his cock, “Oh, baby,” he said.

“Mmmhmmm. I think you’re gonna cum very hard. Lots of it. all over my tits, right? All over. Plaster me with your stuff, baby, do it, do it,” I was a porn star! Where was I coming up with this? “Come on now, you can fucking do it, fucking cummmmm—“

And he roared and it came, and it came, and it came, it kept on coming and some landed on my neck, and some on my lips, and as it came I rubbed it in and what was on my fingers, I licked off. He was a bit tarter than I originally thought. His precum was sweeter. Or maybe my tastebuds changed after my orgasm? He rubbed his spunk into my tits, too, and fed me some of it off his fingers. I licked his fingers clean. The last drop of cum fell on my left nipple, and he fell back and lied down. Beside me. Quiet. For about 30 seconds. Then I sat up. I had the urge to make him a sandwich. But instead I said:

“Huh. Facecloth? How do I get this stuff off?” He laughed, and got up slowly and said, “One second.”

He came back with a facecloth. I decided I needed privacy and went into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. A hickey was forming on my right breast, purple and yellow. My face was bright red. My bangs were slicked back with sweat. My mascara had run down my face. My chest was blushing pink, imprints of fingertips, half moon fingernail marks. My lips were swollen and there was a red ring around my mouth. I looked HOT. And very much like a woman. I used his hand soap and scrubbed away a bit with the facecloth. I smelled like him. I grinned. I think I might have even winked at myself in the mirror.

I came out of the bathroom. I was trying to hide the smile. The smile would give my first time away. And my first time was just for me.

“Oh, we didn’t get to watch my movie,” Joey said.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I had fun anyway.”