The Jerk

by V. K. Ludwig

  “You don’t, um…” I swallowed hard. “You don’t have, like, developed feelings for me, right?”

  “No. No, of course not.”

  “Yeah, yeah,… um. That’s what I thought.” I gave a little laugh, sounding more awkward than the situation demanded. Why did I have to bring it up? “I just wanted to make sure, you know. Make sure we’re on the same page here.”

  She quickly brushed her hands against mine, only to drop them by her sides once more as if it had never happened. But I could still feel where we had touched for seconds to come.

  “If you don’t want to do it, I understand because I get how risky it is. And there’s nothing in it for you, because you know I’m not looking for a husband.”

  Nothing in it for me? Sure, I wanted to find a wife and make her mine, but what were the chances of that? Not much longer and I would be too old for any of the young women to consider me, and line up at the longhouse like those fifty-year-old fools in front of us. At least I wouldn’t die a virgin if I gave Ruth what she wanted, and would have experienced what it is like to be with a woman. Even just for curiosity’s sake.

  “Rowan can assign me another guard, and I guess I can only hope he has less honor, respect, and integrity than you do. I love that about you. It’s just… getting in the way.” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “The thing is, Adair, I feel safe with you, and I trust you. And I can’t stop thinking about how you held me today.”

  “Sh!” I flung my finger against my lips, then shook my head. “It’s naïve of you to trust me. As it is, I already broke the law, and if Hazel wouldn’t have walked in on us… I couldn’t have held back.”

  “But I wanted you to.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that I lost control, Ruth, and that’s unforgivable.”

  She gave a nod, and a veil of sorrow settled on her face as if for once she understood how much she really asked of me. Putting my life at risk and throwing my principles overboard —

  “I want it to be you,” her words invaded my thoughts, turning my knees weak and my will even weaker.

  If they found us out, I’d lose my life, because she made it clear marriage wasn’t in the cards. Casual sex wasn’t what I wanted, but it was still better than no sex at all. I mean… how many guys out here are lucky enough to be blackmailed for sexual favors? Certainly not something that happened often.

  “You want me to have sex with you?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “That’s it? Just sex? No strings attached?”

  Another nod.

  “Presume I get you pregnant,” I whispered. “What then? We have protection here, but I’m an unmarried man. I can’t just go and purchase that without someone reporting it.”

  “It won’t happen that quick. Look at River and Ayanna. It took her forever to get pregnant, and I’m sure it has something to do with the water. It will probably take my body months to reach fertility.”

  “That’s true. It took them quite some time. But that means that this arrangement would have a time limit.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

  The crowd in front of us grew louder, spiked by unfulfilled hopes and a general frustration about the lack of women. Sweat hung in the air, and Clay had made it to the first row, his eyes dead-set on Ruth.

  If I didn’t agree, Rowan would assign her a new guard. No way he wouldn’t jump at the chance. No way I wouldn’t regret if I turned it down.

  But there also hung a certain concern over it all. What if my refusal would put Ruth in danger? Honor, respect, and integrity weren’t exactly equally distributed among our men, which is why I sat up here, while most stood down there.

  “Under two conditions,” I said, trying not to get carried away by how Ruth now gleamed at me. “I don’t want you to sleep with anybody else but me.”

  “Deal. What’s the second one?”

  I leaned over some more and stretched my body toward her. “If I put my child inside of you, you’ll agree to marry me.”

  She hesitated for a moment as if her brain had to do another round of equations. Then she gave a final nod. “You’re making this pretty easy. I agree.”

  Chapter 7

  Ruth

  Each stroke of the second’s-timer on the kitchen watch added to the tension inside me. Music blared from the TV. The movie’s outro was in full swing. Yet, Hazel wouldn’t get up.

  Another strike on the clock.

  Another tug on my muscles.

  “You wanna call it a night?” Adair asked her, trying hard to make it sound like a question.

  “I’m pretty tired,” I chimed in, and he gave me a quick wink.

  Hazel grabbed the faded DVD covers in front of her and sorted through them. “What’s wrong with you guys tonight? It’s only ten, and we still have a bunch of awesome movies to choose from.”

  Adair scratched the nape of his neck, dropped his hand behind the couch, and gestured me to be patient.

  But I couldn’t be patient anymore. We both understood what would happen as soon as his sister went to bed, and my lust for him made me shove in my seat.

  I let my eyes trail across the leftover spaghetti on the kitchen island, a hint of fresh basil still clinging to the air. The noodles hung over the edges of stacked, gray plates. Tomato sauce had dripped onto the counter.

  “What about the dishes?” I asked and pointed at the black chore board on the wall. “I won’t go to bed while the kitchen is such a mess. And the chore board says —”

  “Clean it if it bothers you so much.” Hazel gave me a dismissive wave, her eyes so glued to the TV, I could tell she tried hard not to glance over to the sink. Then she pressed the red button on the remote and clearly faked a yawn. “I’m actually pretty tired, too. But I guess the dishes come first?”

  “Or perhaps Adair and I can do it,” I suggested, “and you just go to sleep if you’re so tired. It won’t take us long if we do it together.”

  “If you insist.” Hazel got up and gave Adair a pat on the shoulder.

  I walked over to the sink and opened the faucet, the steam of the hot water immediately clinging to the cold glass on the window above. Bubbles flew into the air and popped, scenting the room with the smell of dish soap.

  Adair grabbed the plates and scraped the food scraps into the trash. His sister left the kitchen and retreated into her room, leaving me behind with a crushing amount of high expectations.

  The plates sunk to the bottom of the sink along with the silverware, clinking and clanking against the chipped, white enamel.

  “I thought we would do it together,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  The strain in his voice offered an odd kind of reassurance. I never had sex before, and the fact that Adair was nervous as well, somehow calmed my nerves. If only a little.

  He glanced around the room once more, making sure Hazel had definitely left, then he stepped up behind me. His hands stroked down my arms as he nestled his chin on my shoulder, diving into the hot water which prickled along our skins.

  Adair slung his hands around mine, and together we grabbed plates and knives, running the bristles of the dish brush across it in circular motions. A single kiss against my neck sent a shiver across my body, and my shoulders clenched for a second. The very next moment I cocked my head, asking for more.

  We placed everything on the drying rack, both our bodies shaky and burning up with desire. Fear, too. The thought that Adair might have had expectations as well put a hitch in my breath.

  All I knew about sex came from ancient texts and old drawings, so unbelievably out of proportion, I had no clue what went where.

  I turned around and looked at him, my body soft and pliable in his arms.

  “You still sure this is what you want?” he asked.

  I gave several nods, quick as if the speed somehow helped me steer the bounce in the right direction before I’d chicken out. His stunning eyes carried worry, so I placed a soft kiss onto his lips for encou
ragement.

  He swung his arms around my waist, picked me up, and prompted me to sling my legs around his hips. Like that, he carried me over to his room, locking the door behind us.

  “We can’t be too loud,” he said.

  I gave a stiff nod.

  With gentle hands, he placed me onto his bed and stared at me for a while. I shoved my naked feet over the sheet and took in the scent of fresh linen.

  “It smells so clean,” I said, as my mind clung to anything which could lend itself to keep the conversation going.

  “You expected it sweaty, with a pile of socks collecting on the blanket, didn’t you?”

  I didn’t nod but allowed a bit of my smile to shine through.

  “Sorry to disappoint. Hazel is the messy one, and I changed the sheets for us as soon as we came home from the longhouse.”

  For a long while, we let our eyes wander through the room, only stealing forbidden glances from each other’s bodies when we thought the other one wasn’t looking.

  He rubbed a hand across his arm and cleared his throat. “So… um… how do you want to do this?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, suddenly feeling stupid, naïve and in the wrong part of the house. “Can you, like, undress? So I can look at you?”

  Without hesitation, he took off his shirt and draped it across the backrest of a chair, then slowly slipped out of his pants. The little bit of light invading the window put a sheen on his naked skin, the expansion and retreat of his lungs too fast for someone standing at rest.

  With each breath he inhaled, the ripped muscles along his stomach contracted, filling my crotch with that insatiable desire once more.

  “Um…” I grabbed for the sheet and bunched it up inside my fists. “Have you ever…”

  “You got the answer to that,” he said after a while. “But if it makes you feel any better, I watched a lot of porn over the last sixteen years. I should have a pretty decent skill set for a rookie, at least in theory.”

  Theory. I knew all about that, but having a flesh-and-blood man in front of me now seemed like a lot to take on for a woman like me. But I had left my life behind to put theory into practice, and finally graduate from this mysterious subject.

  “Take your briefs off,” I said, the confidence in my voice nothing but faked.

  Adair fumbled the fabric down and let it slip to the ground, not an inch of shame on him about how his cock came to life more with each second I stared at it.

  “I don’t scare you, do I?”

  I let go of the sheet, got up, and walked over to him, staring down at what he offered. “A little. It’s a lot bigger than in the drawings.”

  “I guarantee you it’s about average… maybe slightly bigger.”

  Nervous, and with my stomach in knots, I reached my hand out for his crotch. I rubbed my palm along his shaft and grabbed his testicles. He let out a throaty moan, and his penis grew even bigger in an upward curve.

  “Do you give me permission to touch you?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Touch you.” He took a step toward me, his fingertips floating by the hem of my shirt. “Tell me I got your permission. I need to hear it.”

  “I give you permission.”

  He bunched the fabric of my shirt into his fists and pulled it over my head, hanging it neatly over his by the chair. Whatever he mumbled next lost itself against my breasts.

  He licked them, sucked them, kissed them, little mmmh’s escaping his mouth as if he had come across a most delicious meal. My nipples grew harder each time his lips teased them, and a wave of unchecked lust came over me.

  His kisses wandered down along my stomach where he fumbled my pants down and didn’t spare the panty. When his lips slid across my pubic bone, I couldn’t help but stare, watching how he kissed me down there, the tip of his tongue pressing between my folds.

  “This any good?” he asked. “You need to tell me if I’m doing it wrong, or if you want me to do —”

  “It’s perfect.”

  As a matter of fact, it was so perfect, it got me all hot, wet and ready for him. Unable to work up another second of patience, I grabbed his wrist and gave a tug, throwing my body back onto his bed. I planted my soles on the sheet and wiggled myself into position, spreading my legs wide like an open invitation.

  He approached slowly, and he might have taken a deep breath on the way, climbed onto the mattress and kneeled over me. I grabbed for his hips, one hand on his left and one on his right, guiding his throbbing erection closer to where I melted.

  “You’re too fast,” he whispered. “There’s so much I always wanted to try.”

  “We have weeks for all that, maybe even months. But I need to feel you now, Adair.”

  His lips parted as if he tried to say so many things at once. When no words came, he lowered himself down to where I was drenched.

  For days, I’d imagined what it would be like to have him inside of me. Now that the head of his fully aroused penis split my lips apart and inched closer, I silently cursed him for taking so long to agree. The more pressure invaded between my legs, the more he moaned.

  “You’re tighter than any fist,” he whispered.

  “Is that bad?”

  “No, it’s um…” He gave another thrust, his face scrunching up in something that resembled discomfort and pleasure at the same time. “I just didn’t expect this much resistance. Am I hurting you?”

  “The books say it’s normal, just… I don’t know… push harder.”

  Each time he rocked deeper pain stabbed me, only to be replaced with pleasure the very next second. A dulled pop resounded inside my ear as he took my virginity, and each of his thrusts after that was nothing but a pinch. A pinch and an overwhelming sensation of friction, dazzling my mind into sheer ecstasy.

  He raised his body up and gazed down at where we had joined, a tense and stuttered exhale accompanying each of his stabs back inside me. Every other thrust contained a short break, or a hesitation, sending my impatience and lust for more over the edge.

  “Why are you stopping?”

  “Give me a moment.”

  “What? No!” I angled my knees and lifted my pelvis, rocking and grinding against him where he failed my wanting.

  He let out a deep groan. “Stop… slow down.”

  I flung my hands behind his back and pulled him deeper inside me, watching his muscles strain, taking in his clean and masculine scent, and experiencing how he filled me.

  “Ruth…”

  The way he moaned my name sent a shiver down my sternum and deep into my core. His thrusts picked up again, and each time he penetrated me deep and slow, tension built up inside me, creating something threatening to cascade over me at any second.

  Another hesitation.

  Another break, sending his entire body into vibration.

  I rocked my hips against him.

  “No, wait…”

  “Yes,” I blurted and gave another push against him.

  Then I pulled back. So did he.

  His penis slipped out, taking all that delicious pressure and friction right with it, leaving me empty and more hungry than ever.

  “Shit… no… no…” he stammered and aimed his penis back at me. But his body convulsed, and he let out a final “Shit!”, throwing his erection somewhere between my folds and thigh, humping and rocking and spurting his seed all over my stomach and deep into my bellybutton.

  “I fucking asked you to stop,” he panted, his body crippled by quakes, a small amount of his semen continuing to spill out of the tip of his throbbing penis.

  “How could I know this would happen so fast?”

  He lowered his body on top of me as if he couldn’t support himself any longer, squeezing me down and the air out of my lungs.

  “I’m… I’m so sorry…” Several deep puffs came and went from his chest, a blank look on his face, and his lips pressed together. “Give me a moment, and I swear I will make up for it.”

  He pushed himse
lf up with one arm and let the other slide between us, forming a tight fist around his shaft. His fingers ran up and down, fast and persistent, as he gave little humps into his hand.

  “Just a minute,” he said with a strained voice, rubbing his corona a few times before he gave another desperate pump into his fist.

  I stared down at his half-hard thing, unable to contain the restlessness inside my legs. “You think this is going to work? Doesn’t seem like —”

  “I told you I’ll need a minute,” he barked. “No need to be a bitch about it.”

  A hard freeze killed whatever heat had remained between my legs.

  “What did you call me?”

  He rubbed himself faster now, almost aggressively, letting go and stroking across the head every now and then before he returned to the shaft, his eyes squinted and his brows furrowed.

  I let out a deep sigh. “It’s not my fault you suffer from premature ejaculation.”

  “What? I don’t suffer from anything!” His hand stopped. “Why didn’t you slow down when I asked you? What the hell did you expect, Ruth? If you thought I’d fuck you for two hours straight, well maybe your expectations weren’t too realistic.”

  I rolled out from underneath him and sat up. “My expectations? I wanted to experience sex. I didn’t think it would be so difficult, considering Max and River obviously got it done. Like this, pregnancy really is the last of our concerns I can tell you that.”

  He let go of himself, his penis nothing but a sad thing crouching tired against his thigh now.

  “Great.” I fanned my hand toward it. “Guess nothing else will happen here tonight if you can’t even get another erection.”

  He jumped up and pulled the sheet out from underneath me, making me fall back and hit my head against the wall. Then he draped it around his lower body, holding it tugged together by his hip.

  “Oh,” he said. “So first you complain that I’m too aroused. And now I’m not aroused enough?”

  “Clearly not,” I said, climbed off the bed and scavenged for my clothes. “Do you at least have a tissue or something?”