Topsy Turvy Kinda Love

by J Marie

  Brooks: You want to build a fort?

  I smack my hand against my forehead and groan. This sexting idea is worse than I thought. I need to come up with a plan B on teaching Brooks the art of sexting, clearly. I growl out my frustration, reading through the texts again.

  Mia: Let’s try this again…

  Brooks: Try what again?

  Mia: What are you wearing?

  Brooks: The same thing I was wearing four minutes ago when you texted me.

  Mia: Come on, play along with me. Just invent something that you couldn’t possibly be wearing right now, like assless chaps.

  Brooks: But why would I be wearing assless chaps at a bar… then people would see my ass. Potentially other parts too if I bent over. It just sounds like a really bad idea.

  Mia: Okay, I’ll try. I’m wearing a see-through lace bra and panties and I’m getting wet. What am I doing right now?

  Brooks: Wait, you’re outside in your bra and underwear in the rain? I think that’s a really bad idea, Mia. You should probably go back inside.

  Mia: Good Lord, Brooks. I give up.

  Brooks: Wait, no. I really want to know what you’re doing.

  Mia: Why would I be getting wet, Brooks?

  Brooks: Is this the rain again?

  Mia: I’m sitting here in my bra and panties, masturbating thinking about you.

  Brooks: Oh.

  Five minutes later.

  Brooks: OH! Tell me more.

  Mia: *winking emoji* I think we should start a sex bucket list. Write everything down that you want to do or learn.

  Brooks: Yeah, let’s do that, back to the masturbation thing. What’s it feel like?

  Mia: Please tell me you’ve done it before…

  Brooks: Rubbed it raw.

  Mia: Then you know.

  Brooks: Great, now I have a boner.

  Mia: Stay behind the bar, no one will know. *winking emoji*

  Brooks: I’m going to get you back for this, you know that right?

  Mia: I’ll be waiting. By the way… you fail at sexting.

  Brooks: Add it to the bucket list.

  The rest of my afternoon consists of laundry, cleaning, and painting the day away. I love my days off. Sitting in a smoke-filled room, getting high, watching the bristle of my paintbrush drag its way across a canvas, covering it in dark colors. The blue paint Brooks had picked out at the store sits on my art stand. This piece is for him. It’s still dark. Still black with a pop of blue.

  I swirl the paint on the canvas, making shapes and patterns in a random way, a never-ending line. Each line paints a story—something foreboding, something light, something welcoming. It all depends on the shade and the thickness.

  I haven’t noticed the time until I hear the lock on the front door click and look over to see Brooks walk through. My eyes fall to the window, noting the sky has turned dark, and it looks like rain is coming. It’s amazing how I can get lost in my art. Lost in the magic of creating.

  Finding Brooks again, I openly ogle him. He looks good in his black tee-shirt and tight jeans. It doesn’t show off his package as well as my favorite pair of his grey sweatpants, but I have a vivid imagination even if I can’t see it.

  “Hey, roomie.” He smiles at me, that panty-melting fuck-me smile.

  “Hey, Brooks.”

  “Why does it look like a cloud in here?”

  “I was smoking…” I look away, not wanting to see the judgmental look that most people give me when they find out I smoke weed.

  He nods. “Oh, what’s it like?”

  My eyes widen as I take in his question. “What’s what like?”

  “Smoking weed.”

  “Oh, it’s kinda hard to explain unless you do it.”

  “Okay.”

  “You wanna try it?” I say, offering him the joint, but he shakes his head.

  “Um… maybe. Not today though. I want to get into this sex bucket list you talked about earlier. By the way… not cool giving me a boner at work.”

  I chuckle, shaking my head.

  “Hey, is that my painting?” He moves around me to take a look at the canvas I’ve been working on this afternoon.

  “Yeah, I started it today. It’s not finished yet. I’m not exactly sure where to go with it.”

  “Well, it looks great so far.”

  “Brooks…”

  “You are damn good, Mia. Accept it.”

  One single nod. That’s all I give him. Images of what Zara and I talked about earlier this afternoon flash through my mind, and heat seeps into my cheeks. He’s here now. If I want to try things, we can. He’s open to it, but a part of me still says they’re sex lessons, so I have to treat them as such.

  Scheduled. Bucket list. And when the bucket list is checked off, it’s done. He’ll go on to find someone else, and I’ll keep on seeing other guys.

  “Alright, let’s grab some food before we get into this. I’m starving.”

  “Tacos from El Famoso?”

  “You read my mind.”

  Half an hour later we’re sitting on the couch, chowing down on tacos, when Brooks speaks up. “I always forget how good these are…”

  “Best stoner food ever.”

  “Stoner food?”

  “Yeah, smoking gives people the munchies. Makes you so freaking hungry you can’t handle it.”

  “Huh.”

  “I’m gonna grab a drink, you want something?”

  “Yep, I want a blowjob.” His eyes sparkle with mischief. My brain takes me on a flashback to the first night I trained Brooks, and I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips.

  “Ha, do you remember that first night?”

  A blush creeps up his face in embarrassment. “How could I forget?” He shakes his head and laughs.

  “I’ll make you one.”

  One breath.

  Two breaths.

  Three breaths.

  What the hell is he doing to me?

  For the first time in my life, I’m sitting and talking with a man I don’t just want to have sex with and it feels weird. I mean… I want to have sex with him, but I also enjoy the talking. Finishing making our drinks, I pick them up and walk back out to the living room, noticing that Brooks has changed into my favorite grey sweatpants, and his dick print is on full display.

  Damn, that’s a nice dick.

  “You changed?”

  “Yeah, figured I wanted to be a little more comfortable.”

  “Worried your pants may get too tight if you get another boner?” A smile tears across my cheeks, and I shoot him a wink.

  He shrugs in a so-what pose.

  Handing him the drink, I remember we’ll need something to write on. “Let me grab a pen and paper. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  I return a few seconds later, pen and paper in hand. Ready to make this sex bucket list.

  “Okay, before we start making a list. I need to know what you’ve done already. Is there a certain point we need to start, or are we starting at the very beginning?”

  “Well…” He looks down as he twiddles his fingers.

  “Wait, you haven’t done anything?”

  He lifts up his left hand. “Nope. I have an active imagination, but that’s about it. Well, unless you include the shower stuff the other day.”

  “Seriously?” I ask exasperatedly. Surely he’s joking…

  He shakes his head. “I already told you. Wasn’t exactly into anyone, and if you had those thoughts you had to follow through with an agreement and marry her. There was no fooling around.”

  “Okay, then.” My heart is doing pitter-patters thinking about what those words mean. He hasn’t wanted to do anything with someone from his hometown, but he wants me to teach him.

  Me. Non-relationship, total hookup queen.

  I push the thought away and shake my head.

  You don’t believe in love. This is simply sex and lust over your hot as hell roomie.

  I haven’t realiz
ed I brought the pen to my lips as I sit and daydream yet again. When I look over at Brooks his gaze is heated, watching the pen as it traces along the bottom of my lips. I nibble on the tip nervously, thinking about how to approach the topic that I have zero other excuses to escape.

  I watch Brooks’ mouth move slowly as he goes to speak. “So…how does one make a sex bucket list.”

  “How about I start us out with some easy stuff, and then we go from there?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “So, we’ve already established that you’re terrible at sexting, so we’ll work on that. How about next we start out with light touching and foreplay? Maybe try phone sex? Oral sex—me blowing you, you eating me out… High sex… that would be fun.”

  A blush creeps across his face, and he almost looks ashamed talking about it, but a part of him seems very interested in where this is going. I wonder if I should feel bad tarnishing his virgin self, but I quickly shake the thought away.

  I can picture everything. Him running those big, calloused hands over my soft skin. Running fingers down my body—over my collarbones, breasts, ribs, and lower to where I really want him to go. I squirm in my seat, barely holding back a moan as I picture what could come of our agreement.

  “Yes… all of that.”

  “Then I’m thinking we actually have sex. So you can feel what it’s like, then we can go from there. There so many things we can do and experiment with… sex in the shower, masturbating in front of each other, using sex toys, public sex, anal sex, sixty-nine…”

  “What is sixty-nine exactly?”

  “It’s when a guy goes down on a girl while she’s blowing him.”

  “Oh, yeah. Definitely want to try that.” His hand adjusts the front of his pants, and I know thinking about all this stuff is getting him horny. I’m having the same problem, but then again, I’m always turned on in his presence these days. Just the sight of all those muscles confined and bunched under a black tee shirt.

  I wink. “I’m sure you do. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

  I get up, feeling his eyes on me as I walk to my bedroom and close the door. The only way to stop thinking too much into this is to just go ahead and do it. I’ve slept with plenty of guys. Brooks is just another guy. A little voice inside laughs at me.

  I pull a black lace negligee from my drawer. Why not add in a naughty teacher outfit while I’m at it? Quickly stripping, I pull on the lace, put my hair into a messy bun, and add some glasses. One quick look in the mirror, and I head back to the living room.

  My hand clasps the handle of my door as I take a big breath. Here goes nothing.

  I creep down the hall quietly and watch Brooks lift the glass to his lips and swallow. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down to get the liquid down.

  Clearing my throat, he looks over and chokes. His eyes trail from my black polished toes, up my legs, over the curves of my hips, past my breasts, and then those dark chocolate eyes are on mine. He audibly swallows, and I can’t help the elation that floods me over Brooks’ explicit approval of my body.

  “W-what are you doing?”

  “You want to learn sex or not?”

  “Yeah… but…”

  “Take it or leave it.” He stands as fast as his legs will let him and almost falls at the temptation to be near me.

  “I’m in.”

  “Okay, good. Two rules: no kissing, and we’re using your bed.”

  “Okay…”

  I turn to walk toward his bedroom, but not before I look back over my shoulder at him still standing there. “You coming?” I run my finger down the wall as I walk, trying to be as seductive as possible and I can’t help but feel like I’m about to defile the boy next door. Sex will change things between us. I know my feelings won’t be involved, but I worry about him. I walk into his room and turn. “One more thing.”

  He gulps, eyes trailing my risqué outfit again. “Anything.”

  “Don’t fall in love with me, Brooks.”

  “Okay.”

  “Good. Lesson one: Strip.”

  “Strip.” It’s the only thing she says to me as I follow her into my room. My angelic rainbow-haired dream girl has turned into a naughty teacher in less than five minutes. Her hair is pulled up into an unkempt knot on her head. She’s wearing glasses like a school teacher, and the sexy underclothes she has on make my dick jump for joy at what’s hidden beneath them.

  It’s see-through, so I have a little idea, but I can’t get ahead of myself, or everything’s going to be over too quickly. I strip my clothes, shuffling out of my sweatpants and boxers, pulling the shirt over my head and I stand there bare assed, my length already thick between my thighs, waiting for her next instruction.

  She tsks me, and I’m sure my face is laden with confusion. Hadn’t she asked me to strip? I’d done so and quickly. “Put your clothes back on, Brooks.”

  “But you told me to take them off?”

  “I said strip, not at the speed of light itself.”

  “But…”

  “Give the ladies something to enjoy while you strip, Brooks. You see, stripping is like foreplay, and it shows how the sex will go. If you strip too fast, she’s going to assume that you’re just a pump and dump who’s going to fuck her. If you strip slow, you’re enticing her. You’re showing her the dance. It should be appealing, erotic. Telling her exactly how you plan to ravish her, making love to her body over and over again.”

  I pick up my scattered clothing from the floor and start getting dressed again. Once dressed, I wait for instruction. “Okay, so start with your shirt.” Grabbing the back of my shirt I start to lift it over my head. “Slower… make me want it, Brooks.” I slow, the shirt raising slightly over the trail of hair leading below my waist, up my abs, slowly cresting my chest and then over my head as I toss it aside.

  Ocean eyes trail up my body, finding my own and I have to swallow at the intensity in them. She’s enjoying this. I give her my best smile and watch a shiver run down her arm. I’m not the only one affected.

  “Pants next. Slowly.” I follow her direction, starting to shed my sweatpants. I’ve gotten them halfway down my ass when I pause. “Stick your hand in and stroke yourself, like you’re priming yourself just for me. Like you want me and have to touch yourself because you can’t wait a second longer with all the lust pooling in your body for what we’re about to do.” My sweats tighten around me as I grow thicker, just hearing the dirty words spill from her mouth. She’s making me crave her. It’s exactly what she’s doing. The sinful thoughts from time and time again crash into my brain and paint a beautiful picture of filthy sex.

  “So hot, Brooks. Now pull them down.” My dick springs free within my boxers as I pull my sweats down my thick thighs, bending as I push down and shuffle out of them. Looking up at her with a wicked grin as I did so. Her tongue darts, wetting her lips, and memories of my first blowjob flood my mind—her on her knees, mouth parted, begging to taste every bit of me.

  “Here’s the good part.” She rubs her hands together, and a laugh slips from between her luscious lips. Her eyes linger on my boxers. She bites her bottom lip, and I hold back the groan I’m dying to let sneak out.

  “Any special way I need to take off my boxers, or can I just take them off?”

  “Nope, just let the beast free, Brooks. Let him out to play.” I roughly slide my hands to each hip and shoved my boxers down, my dick springing free and wagging up and down. Appreciating the perusal Mia is giving him.

  Mia walks across the room and slowly climbs her way up the bed, ever so slowly. Teasing the fuck out of me. Making sure that my full attention is on the luscious globes of her ass. My hands itch to reach out and touch her, but we’re playing by her rules tonight and I don’t want to risk any reason for her stopping. I’m in lust mode, and I want her. Badly.

  “Come kiss me, Brooks.”

  “But you said no kissing?”

  “I meant no lip kissing. Kiss me here.” She points to the delicate line
of her cheekbone, and I oblige. Hovering over a spot lower on her neck, my lips press there as well. I place more kisses to her neck and down her collarbone. Her skin seems to vibrate with excitement below me. My lips meet her chest through the lace she wears, and it’s translucent enough that I can see the tips of her nipples.

  I’m aching to touch her, wanting to slide my thumb across those full breasts I long to kiss.

  “Touch me, Brooks. I need your hands on me. Make me feel like you want me. Like you’re craving me so badly that you can’t wait to do the naughtiest things to me.” My hands find her lace-covered breasts and I massage them like it’s second nature.

  Her nipples peek below my hands as my thumb and forefinger rub them slowly. The urge to feel her skin to skin overwhelms all my thoughts, but I won’t without permission.

  Continuing my ministrations, I allow my hand free reign to roam down her ribcage and over her stomach, stopping right above where I want to let me hand drift. Sliding down over her panty clad core, I feel the heat burning through it. My fingers slip lower, meeting with her wetness.

  I was making her wet with just my touch and kissing? A soft moan escapes her lip. Gazing up her body, I find a blue lust-filled gaze looking back at me.

  Pulling at the lace garment slowly, I wait for any sign of her to tell me no. When she doesn’t, I continue my journey, exposing soft skin as I go. Her stomach is perfection. She doesn’t have abs, and there’s a slight layer of softness. I let the lace ride up over her chest, exposing dusty pink rose buds. They’re perfect in size and my mouth waters at the thought of tasting them. She lifts up, helping me pull the lace over her head and tossing it away.

  My eyes roam over her half-naked exposed body. Rainbow hair in pinks, blues, and purples fans out a bright contrast again my navy pillows. A few locks fall to her breasts, and I reach out to push it away, wanting to see all of her. Her gaze catches mine when I look at her. Fire burns brightly in her eyes. “Tell me what you want to do to me, Brooks. Talk to me.”

  “I’m not sure where to start, but I want to put my mouth here.” My fingers linger down, swirling her peaked nipples.