No Reason

I was shaking a little as I entered his apartment that night. Overtired, horny, emotional. A little scared, really. It felt strange coming to see him and being that out of sorts. But I thought, in my infinite first serious relationship wisdom: This is a learning moment, Janie. Be yourself. And tell him what's wrong. And let him help you.

"My brother's in the hospital," I said as he walked out of the bathroom, freshly showered. His hair, cut that afternoon. His bangs curly. He was shirtless. I got immediately distracted. "I like your hair," I murmured.

"Your brother's in the hospital? Why?" he asked.

"Some awful stomach flu. He's been throwing up all day. Green stuff. Bile. He's like lying in the hospital with two IVs right now. He's such a tough kid. It takes a lot for him to admit that he's feeling sick. So it's..."

He took my coat and my purse and my scarf, slowly, nodding and I felt taken care of. These things I notice. I rambled on. "I guess it's not food poisoning because we both had all the same food yesterday and I feel fine. I mean, it's gonna be fine. I'm just, being 200 miles away, I get nervous. I think the worst. But he's getting taken care of now. I mean, in good hands. He's at the hospital my mom's like eighth cousin works at. It's kind of weird." Sigh. "I'm sorry I'm going on and on. How are you? Are you okay? How was your day?" And then I gave him a hug. Ohh, his skin...

"You're so warm. You're always so warm," I kissed him lightly on the mouth. I felt like I might burst into tears. But I didn't.

"Mmmm," he moaned a little bit. "Do you want a drink? A beer?"

"Oh God. Yeah, I really need a drink," I said. The six pack he bought for the party we were going to attend in an hour was still on the floor. I took a beer. He opened it against the counter, not being able to find the bottle opener. I took a swig. The glass around the mouth of the bottle had chipped. I cut myself on the lip. I laughed. Ha. I thought. What else?

"What?" he said. "What's--"

"I'm bleeding, the bottle..." I went to get a tissue and dabbed my lip. I came back with a bloody tissue stuck against my upper lip.

"Ugh, that's awful, I feel bad," he said. "Are you okay? Let me see it..."

"Don't," I said. "I'm fine. It's funny." The bleeding stopped quickly. "I'm done bleeding. Want to have a little vampire kiss?" And so we kissed. His lips plump as mandarin orange segments soaked in that sweet sugar syrup.

I went and got another beer. A cider, actually. He took the beer with the chipped neck. Then he poured the beer into a glass. I hoped he wouldn't swallow any glass, and said as much. He said it would make him tougher. I knew he didn't like wasting alcohol. We stood in the kitchen for a moment, staring at each other. He had this glimmer in his eyes. That glimmer.

"I'm sorry, are you horny? Are you like crazy horny right now and I'm just going on and on about my brother?" I asked, licking my lips.

"I'll manage," he said and I kissed him.

"Give me a few minutes," I said, taking a big swig of my cider. "And then we can. We can..."

"It's fine, it's fine. Whatever. Do you want to sit down on the couch?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "Let's do that." Suddenly things felt formal. New. It was so curious and sweet.

We sat on the couch.

Of course, about five minutes later, we were kissing hard, slowing unbuttoning things. His hand pressed hard against my breast bone. He likes the soft parts, but he also likes that one hard part. He does. I like when he gropes the parts of me I don't think about when I think of the sexy parts. He makes me reconsider sexy parts. Of course, I'm in love with his eyebrows. So it's understandable. The bits of lovers we that we come to adore.

I pulled down my tights, sighing.

"I cannot wait til fucking summer. No more tights. You can just put your hand between my legs and just like. Just like..." I wandered off, watching him take off his pants, seeing a little wet spot on his underwear. I took a couple steps toward him. And our hands went everywhere. We became hands.

"Get on the bed on all fours, ass up in the air," he said, sweetly, but with some authority.

I did what I was told. I giggled silently.

I felt him behind me suddenly. Just standing there. Not moving. Not even touching yet. And my heartbeat quickened. I shifted my ass further up in the air in a moment of scared daring. Then I felt his hands on me. Groping my ass cheeks, spreading them apart. The cool air hitting my wet lips and my tight asshole. I felt at once a little nervous and more than well-taken care of. I felt very...present. Noticed. And he was just barely touching. Just making me into a sexual exhibition before his eyes before diving in. Objectifying me. I couldn't see his face but I knew he was just looking at my holes. Maybe my neck. And that made me feel extremely sexy. I heard him sigh and then heard his knees crack. Suddenly, his tongue was slipping over my wet cunt. I squealed very quietly.

He can make me cum by breathing on me the right way. I know. It's ridiculous. And you don't believe me. And people exaggerate their orgasmic nature, and it's a cliche to make like "Oh my God, I cum with him so hard" but really, the cum-by-breathing on me is hardly an exaggeration. I am always ready to give that to him. Always. My orgasms are my gifts to him now. I can give him as many as he wants. I won't run out. I think about us years from now and doing things that we do now with a precision and a grace and a familiarity. And even that, even that thought of us being almost mundanely used to one another--that makes me cum.

His fingers slipped deep inside my cunt, curling up, swirling about in ways that made my back arch. I started panting and backing up on those fingers and then he started pumping them into me in such a way that I could hear my cunt squish against his hand. Then he started sucking my clit hard again. And I came. And then I came again when he sucked my cunt, sticking his tongue deep in and I backed up on his tongue and just that wet little muscle of his tongue felt at once so large and so mighty. And then. Suddenly.

He was licking my ass.

Which he had not ever done before.

And I got a little nervous, for one second.

And then I remembered that his mouth is fucking heaven and there is no room for nerves in heaven.

And the sounds he made, growling and moaning and whispering not words but just little somethings and the slurping as he lapped at my hole and the taut skin at my crevice were just. Outstanding. So naughty. He was the star--not my ass.

I want to do with him all the things that I fantasized about with people who weren't real.

These objects of fantasy that I'd create in my head, because no boy would ever want to do that. Or that. Or that.

But he. He would like to try it all, on me, with me, next to me. I feel that way. Sometimes I feel we are running this marathon of hotness and that honestly, honestly, we will never finish the race because there is so much to do with one another, to one another. And why would we want to finish anyway?

Have you ever heard anyone wax so poetically about a rim job before? HA.

He would finger my pussy hard and lick my ass and spank me and rub my clit and no finger ever entered my ass though I thought it might, but he later said:

"Baby steps."

And I was grateful for that.

I had barely touched him, barely touched him at all when he slipped on the condom and mounted me. Fucked me hard and fast. Slapped my ass with force. Dragged his fingernails hard down my back. Got further on top of me, entered me from another angle. My gspot swelling to the point of near bursting. I came two or three times. I told him how good he felt. And then I told him to fuck that pussy hard and I so wanted him to cum hard inside me. So hard. He'd been so good to me. So sweet and hot and fine as he always is, as he constantly reminds me. His thrusts became short and fast and very hard and I knew. I heard him moan and then he popped. Came hard. Almost yelling as he did so. Collapsed on top of me. His stomach against my torso. He kissed the back of my neck.

"I just got spoiled," I meowed. I giggled and he rolled off of me, smiling. I imagined a cigarette between his lips though he doesn't smoke. We lay next to each other and I played with his hair. The curls. Those curls.

"No, God, that turned me on...too. So much. Too," he said. I continued to play with his hair. And straighten out his big furry eyebrows with my fingers. I kissed him near his temple. My heart was in my throat. He looked at me with the sparkly eyes of someone who's about to ask a really good question.

"You. Are so beautiful," I said softly and he sighed and I heard him whimper almost and he hugged me tight. "You are," I said.

And we continued to breathe.

We continued to catch our breath.

My brother would be out of the hospital in a few hours. The boy and I would go to the party and I'd watch him dazzle the guests without me by his side. And I would feel proud. And even later on that night, after too much drinking and too much eating, I would suck his cock until he came in my mouth and on my face and I would leave him. So close to sleep. And we would say "Bye Babe" twice. And I would get in a cab. And I would go home because I had to work in the morning. And I would collapse into bed. And I would love him. A little more.

A little more.

For any number of reasons and for no reason at all.