by Kristy Marie
I’m only half listening to all the random fuck stories they over-share when I decide enough is enough. I poke Theo in the ribs, our universal sign for: this blows, let’s go.
He catches my finger, pulling my whole hand to his lap, intertwining his fingers with mine. His thumb begins to rub soft circles over my arm, creating tingling sensations that radiate straight into my heart. I love when he does this. I’m going to miss it when he’s gone, when he’s rubbing some other girl’s arm. I lean closer, my shoulder against his broader one as he chimes in here and there to Brody and the rest of the guys.
Part of me is excited he agreed to take my virginity tonight and the other part of me feels like a damn fool for even suggesting it. It seems fitting, though, that our last night together be memorable. It’s not like we were going to do anything big. We planned on staying up late into the wee hours of the morning, playing drinking games to horror movies until it was time for him to catch his plane. Irresponsibility at its finest. Always the best way to start off a new job.
My hand eases to his thigh, feeling the softness of his jeans, the smell of his Irish Spring soap seeping through the fabric. I wiggle closer, daydreaming about how he kisses the top of my head when I fall asleep watching his game footage; the way he grins ear to ear when I argue with the ref over a bad call. I’m going to miss coaching him from the sidelines, cheering him on from the bleachers. Tomorrow, our Saturday practices will officially be over.
Basking in my sorrow, I trace patterns on his faded denim, memorizing the way they hug his muscular thighs, almost like they were designed just for him. Farther up, my fingers wander as the hypnotic motion of his hand works me into a trance. The cadence of his voice only depresses me more as I remember I’ll no longer wake up to his sexy groans as he stumbles to the kitchen in search of coffee, or the pep talks he gives himself in the shower on game days.
More and more, my hand drifts upward until his deep timbre starts to stumble and stutter.
Voice strained, he answers Callum about some teacher he thought was single. Wonder what’s got him so worked up? Ms. James isn’t that hot. Getting back to my ministrations on his thigh, I realize my fingers are an inch from his dick. I test our already loose boundaries and walk my fingers up a couple of steps.
The hand rubbing my arm stops moving as his body goes stiff. I gaze down, noticing the tent that has now pitched in his jeans.
I don’t know what makes me do what I do next.
Maybe it’s the beer? Maybe it’s because it’s our last night together? Or maybe it’s because of the fight we had earlier today that prompted our virginity conversation. Maybe, it’s because I have nothing left to lose. The only man I’ve ever loved is leaving me.
Screw it.
I’m not going to overthink it. In one brave breath, I eat up the last inch of space and cup his manhood, caressing it with the entirety of my hand.
Theo jerks, his breath hissing as he tries to compose himself before the guys take notice. Massaging the fullness to a hardened state, his thick length pulses in my palm as I begin to stroke up and down at a leisurely pace.
“So, whatcha think, man? Should I go for it? I’m graduating…no longer a student.”
My lips quirk in an innocent smile as Theo shifts away from the friction I’m creating. Increasing my tempo, my grip becomes firmer, my strokes rawer and more aggressive.
“Uh…I—” His hips grind into my hand instinctively and he struggles to speak clearly. “Ye—Yeah. Go for it, man.”
In an instant, Theo springs from the booth, completely unhinged. “We gotta go.”
Can I get a fist bump? How many times have I wished for these dinners to be cut short? If I’d known all I had to do is grab a dick at the table, I would have grabbed every dick at the table. Okay, maybe not every dick, but definitely Theo’s.
I’m smiling like a complete fool when Theo pulls me from the booth, and uses me as a human shield, discretely adjusting himself. The guys say their goodbyes with claps on the back and an occasional hug (yes, it was Toby) before Theo yanks us out of the diner, damn near dislocating my arm.
I’m giggly by the time we make it to the car.
“Whew! It’s good to be out of there,” I say, ignoring the adjusting going on in the seat next to me. “The heat in that place made me fidgety. Did it make you hot too?”
Yeah, he doesn’t smile.
Instead, he turns in his seat and tosses his hat on the dash. One hand rakes through his flattened hair before he growls. “I hope you’re ready for a good fucking, McCallister.”
He palms his crotch, showing me what I did.
I swallow down the knot that’s suddenly taking up residence in my throat. Am I ready for a good fucking? I’m not sure now, but I nod anyway because we are definitely doing this.
At my lack of social skills, Theo chuckles and flips his hat back on, rotating it backward to show off those midnight eyes. Without another word, he guns his ‘67 Mustang out of the diner’s parking lot and onto the narrow road which leads to an endless maze of concrete junctions.
We drive in silence for over an hour, the area becoming familiar to me. I already know where he’s taking me, though I haven’t been out here in years. I’m not sure how I feel about coming here now, but apparently it’s important to him, so I go without complaint.
When we pull into the driveway, I note how overgrown it is with vines and various weeds. It’s obvious no one has been here since they died my senior year of high school. The sharp pain I’ve learned to ignore jabs at my heart as we weave down the abandoned drive. My grandparents’ plantation house stands defiant in the center of hundreds of overgrown acres. The barn Theo and I used to play hide-and-seek in is barely visible behind the tall hay stalks that sway in the breeze.
Theo nudges me with his elbow. “You ready for this?”
I know if I were to say no, he would turn this car around and never speak of it. That’s the type of friendship we have. So, it’s not like I feel pressured to do this. I want to, even if I’m going to regret it, which is a distinct possibility.
“This old place has such classic beauty. Bittersweet memories,” I say absently with a shrug of my shoulder. Squeezing his hand, I confirm my consent. “I’m ready. Let’s blow this friendship all to hell.” Chuckling at my own joke, Theo’s hand grows tense under mine. “I’m kidding,” I backtrack. I don’t want to make this any more awkward than it already is. I give him a light shake and a smile, praying he lets it go.
Those dark eyes give me a long look, conveying something I can’t understand before he pops the trunk and hops out without a word.
The passenger door groans as I open the door to follow. “I realize this is a classic, Theo, but damn, WD-40 it at least,” I joke, attempting a comedic buffer. The air is dank and humid when I step out onto the grass. Georgia heat is killer this time of year. Too bad I didn’t think of this in the fall. Getting bitten by mosquitoes isn’t something I am looking forward to. I head back to the trunk where Theo is piling blankets into his worn-out gym bag. “Need any help?”
He smirks, giving me that little asshole lip-tip he does when I say something ridiculous. “I got it.”
He walks away all swaggery—is that even a word?—and I slam the trunk and jog to catch up with him. He bypasses the house, making me curious as to what he has in mind for my devirginization. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see. Keep up. I don’t want a coyote dragging you off.”
“That’s silly. A coyote? I haven’t seen one of those in ages—” Howling yips sound in the distance, and I quicken my pace just in case. We bypass the barn, heading around the back, toward the pond. Theo keeps a brisk pace, not bothering to watch where he’s walking. I think we both know this place so well it wouldn’t make a difference if it were pitch dark instead of half lit by the moon.
Finally, we come to a stop feet from the pond. I help spread the blankets along the shore, the shaking of my hands going into high speed.
“You nervous?”
I glance at my hands, then back at Theo’s worried face and let out a sigh. “Yeah, a little.”
A muscle twitches in his cheek as he nods in return. Don’t think I missed that he didn’t disclose whether he was nervous. He kneels, shifting his knees under him, appearing unaffected by what we’re about to do.
I freeze in fight-or-flight mode, debating whether to lower myself to the blanket.
It feels like five minutes pass before he sighs, patting the blanket next to him. “This was your idea. Are you backing out?”
“Fuck no, I’m not backing out. I’m just… savoring the moment.” His expression tells me he doesn’t believe me for a second.
Come on, Ans. You can do this. Pull on, or off rather, your big girl panties and fuck Theo. Right here, under the stars like you wanted. Like he knew you wanted.
Damn you, Theo, for being so damn perfect. Damn you for being my best fucking friend.
The cicadas snap their tiny cymbals as they orchestrate the background music for our little sexcapade. Their annoying buzz used to aggravate me, but in my current situation, it’s a welcome distraction. I crouch down, swallowing my nerves, and scoot next to the man who is about to take my virginity.
“I’m not backing out, asshole. I was just debating if I should have brought more condoms with me. We could layer them, you know, so the girth will be fuller.” My eyebrows jump up and down like some kind of cartoon villain. “I want to make sure you actually tear through the hymen.”
Like a fool, I grin at his insulted expression.
“I assure you, I’ll break the hymen. Who says hymen, anyway?” He shoves me away in a playful gesture as he roots through his gym bag, tossing a handful of condoms between us. For a moment, we both just stare at them.
“This is going hurt,” he admits with his head still bowed.
I’m aware. From what I’ve seen of his dick—what? We live together. It’s totally normal—it’s going to sting like a bitch; never mind the emotional rollercoaster I’ll endure when he gets on that plane tomorrow. But I’m determined to follow through with this horrific mistake, even if it kills me.
I pull him close, burying my embarrassed face in his chest. “I’m prepared.” The lie falls easily from my lips.
With unsteady hands, he sweeps my hair to the side. “I’m going to take my clothes off now.”
Ok, so it’s going to be awkward, no big deal. I can deal with awkward. I swallow thick, and nod my head like an idiot while Theo rises onto his knees, peels off his shirt, and tosses it off the blanket with finesse only a pitcher possesses. When he’s working on the button of his jeans, I stop him.
“Let me.”
He moves his hands, without answering, and extends his arms out wide. I fumble a bit before successfully popping it through the hole. I ease his zipper down, careful not to catch it on anything. Theo is known to be commando at times. Now, though, red boxer briefs peak out from beneath the denim.
“I need you to stand,” I say, chewing the inside of my cheek. Soundlessly, he does. Inch by inch, I work the damp material down. It sticks in a few places, but after a few aggressive tugs, I get them all the way off, revealing his athletic thighs. Thank you, Coach Anderson, for mandatory gym days.
It’s too quiet when he reaches for my shirt—where are you now, stupid cicadas?—his expert fingers removing my clothes piece by piece. Before I know it, I’m beneath him, staring into hungry eyes that scream this is a bad idea.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathes out, almost pleading.
No, we’re doing this.
I pull him closer, my answer unspoken. His ribs expand with harsh breaths as his callused hand grips my thigh, gently opening me to cradle his narrow hips. The weight of his body coaxes me down onto the blanket, against the soft cotton.
I’m aware of everything, the cicadas, the slight breeze, the blades of grass struggling to poke through the flowered blanket.
It’s this moment, I let my guard down, cataloguing every memory of this boy—this man who’s always held my heart. His breathing becomes choppy, nerves evident in the strain of his shoulders. I want to comfort him, tell him that everything will be fine, but the truth is, it won’t be.
This moment will change everything.
I kiss the inside of his forearm, braced next to my head. “I’ll be okay,” I assure him with false bravado.
Those beautiful lips turn down in a frown before they press against mine. The kiss is soft—gentle even. Theo is more careful than I’ve ever seen him as he hesitantly slips his tongue inside, testing the boundaries of our friendship. We build friction as our bodies take over, grinding against one another in a sinful dance.
With more force, he begins to devour me like a decadent dessert he’s forbidden to have. My every moan, every sigh, is lapped up with rushed fury like this kiss is our last.
It probably will be.
Deep in this precious moment, he takes me, pushing in without hesitation. My whimpers of pain escape right into his awaiting mouth as he breaches my barrier, tearing through.
In this moment, he is all mine.
I’m pulling on my shirt when Theo breaks the silence. “So, that was good. You’re okay, right? I didn’t hurt you?” He fidgets with his hem, his eyes roaming from my face to my sandals.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You okay?”
He shrugs, pacing away. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Good.” I’m folding our blanket, choosing to ignore the red stain that mocks me when Theo’s phone rings.
“Yeah. Oh, hey. Yeah, yeah, Vanessa. I remember. No, no, I’m not busy.” He glances my way nervously.
Vanessa. Seth’s sister and after a thorough FB search—she was at a party, long story—a longtime cheerleader of every sport imaginable. Her dark hair and exotic eyes make her irresistible to every dick in a thirty-mile radius. She’s never spoken to me. The only interaction we have is frequenting the same parties. Oh, and longing over the same man.
Theo continues pacing and I wonder if he really remembers who she is.
“Yeah, sure. Give me about an hour and I’ll be over.”
Deep breath, Anniston. You knew this would happen. Do not act like a lunatic. You said so yourself, it was just sex, pop your cherry and be done.
But, now it doesn’t really feel that way.
Theo must have hung up with his special friend because the next thing I know he’s taking the wadded-up blanket from my hand. “You ready?”
All I can do is nod so the tears don’t fall.
“You’re okay with me hanging out with Vanessa, right? I mean, this,” he motions between him and me, “didn’t change anything, right?”
He’s right. I said it would be no big deal and it isn’t… sort of. I just need a minute to wrap my head around it, is all.
With a fake smile that I hope is hard to make out in the dark, I nod, choking back tears. “Absolutely not. We’re good.”
He smiles, bringing me in for a hug. “Thank fuck.”
I pull away quickly. It’s not his fault. Theo didn’t ask for this. He didn’t even want to have sex. This was all me. But still… right after we…
Get it together, Ans.
Theo bumps my shoulder, almost pushing me to the ground. “High five it up here for breaking that hymen!” He holds his stupid hand up for me to return his five.
Would it be tacky if I punched him in the face instead? Yeah? Whatever, five it is. I smack it with less enthusiasm than he’s expecting. He frowns for a minute, his steady gaze on mine. “We’re still friends, right?”
“Yes, Theo. Stop being such a chick about it.”
I hustle toward the car. I need to get out of here now. One more moment staring at those puppy dog eyes and I will break down and cry. No one needs to see that.
Theo’s footsteps pound behind me as he jogs to catch up. “Damn right we are! Friends with benefits!”
Anger burns in my chest, and at the same time, I’m glad he’s so giddy about it
. Maybe I will be too once I pull my heart out of my ass. And maybe after a few shots of liquor, I’ll feel more like a woman and less like a little girl whose heart was just shattered under the stars.
Maybe one day I will be able to be his friend with benefits.
Maybe one day he’ll be mine.
Three Years Later
I thrust steadily into Sarah—or is it Sadie? Who the fuck knows—until I bottom out. I chase the delicious spot that nestles the crown of my dick, giving it light butterfly kisses to the head with each measured stroke.
Coach kicked my ass at practice today after I mouthed off and hip-checked a fellow teammate. Two hundred running drills later, followed by violent puking in the locker room, I would say I am due for some relaxation. A blow job would have been better for my aching body, but I rationalize that some aggressive sex will satisfy my inner-control demon more today.
Instead of my usual, I picked up this chick who is lying under me like a dead fish and totally killing my high.
I like my women vocal; I like some kink, and I definitely like it rough.
This girl is none of the above, but when she was begging to come home with me, she was all about “the best night of my life.” Yeah, right.
Pulling myself onto my knees, I grasp Sarah’s hips roughly and pound into her unclenching pussy. I want her to scream. I get off on screams. Technically, I can get off on pretty much anything but screams are my favorite.
Wait. Is that BO I smell? I shrug it off, picking up the pace, not really giving a fuck at the moment.
Sarah gasps and quickly averts her eyes, sporting a timid smile. What the fuck? Is she not into it? Dammit. At this rate, I’m never going to come. Why do I keep picking the shy ones?
I’m seconds from deciding to just jerk off in the shower when a chiming tone chirps in my ear. I have a call coming in. Yes, I’m fucking with my Bluetooth in. Don’t judge me.
I rasp out a whiney, “Yeah.” Thrust. Lift her knee. Thrust.
“Theo. I need a favor,” Anniston’s sexy voice demands.
Another thrust. Lifting Sarah’s pelvis higher, I pound that sweet spot, finally hitting my mark.
