by Adele Huxley
“I don’t want to lose you,” I said sadly.
“I don’t want to lose you, either,” he replied.
“I’m not really sure where we go from here.”
Zach rubbed my back, a spot just between my shoulder blades. “It’s a new reality. We rang a few bells, opened a few doors, and now we have to deal with the consequences.”
I rocked back and regarded him, surprised by his philosophical approach. “That’s deep.”
“That’s what happens when I’m left alone for a weekend with a broken heart and a bag of weed,” he laughed sardonically. “And Doritos. Can’t forget the Doritos.”
“Zach…” I said, reaching out for his hand. He took it, our fingers threading as we strolled down the home stretch toward the park exit.
It felt right to hold his hand… maybe a little too right, but I think we both needed it in that moment.
“Are we okay?” I asked.
He hesitated and stopped walking, pulling me by my hand. My breath caught in my throat as I thought he was about to kiss me. Instead, he pulled me into a strong embrace. As I eased into it, I could hear his heart thumping against his chest.
“Not yet, but we will be. I think I might need a little time for this to fade completely.”
I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. His was the scent of afternoons spent in bed, the pair of us laughing and talking. It was the smell of kisses that held more meaning than either of us wanted to admit. It was safe and homey and comfortable. It was Zach… and I wouldn’t smell it again.
“I get it.” I probably need some time, too.
With a finger under my chin, he lifted my face to meet his eye. “Because right now, all I want to do is take you back to my apartment and worship you for hours.” My mouth fell open as my body responded to the idea. Zach’s lip curled a little, maybe at something he saw in my face, before his hand fell away. “See? We need time apart.”
He was a few steps ahead of me before I shook myself and caught up. “We’ll uh… we’ll play it by ear then.”
“Sounds good.” Friend Zach was firmly in place. A part of me wanted to pull him toward me, plant a kiss on his lips, and take back everything I’d said. I could do a hell of a lot worse than Zach. But I knew that wasn’t the smartest decision, for a variety of reasons.
“Want a drink? I’m buying,” I offered.
“Make it coffee and you have a deal. We get up to too much trouble when there’s alcohol involved,” he winked.
My one-night-stand with Mr. Model in LA had restored my faith in hookups. I didn’t want to go out two nights in a row but I was feeling a bit… frisky. Oh God, I sound like my mother… In any case, I’d been kind of chatting back and forth with a guy who didn’t seem crazy. Of course, that had bitten me in the ass a few times already, but I was willing to give him a chance.
Anette was home for the night, so I felt safe inviting him over.
After confirming my address, I strolled out to the living room where Anette was watching TV. I sat on the arm of the sofa, humming a little.
“What’s going on with this?” she asked, waving a finger up and down my body.
“What? This old thing?” I tugged at the hem of a very new, very sexy top I’d bought out in L.A. “Just relaxing. You know how I be.”
Anette clicked her tongue. “Mmmhmm. When you going out?”
I blinked at her innocently. “I’m not going anywhere.”
It took a second for it to sink in, but she got there in the end. “Oh, hell no. You invited some strange guy over here so you could…”
The Bitch Please look I threw in her direction stopped the tirade dead in its tracks. “You know what? Nevermind.”
Yeah, I thought so. With a deliberately smug grin, I turned back to the TV and let her simmer in silence.
“So you’re gonna be… while I’m sitting here…”
“It’s a little weird, isn’t it?” I asked, loving the role reversal.
“As Lourdes would say, it’s hella weird,” Anette pouted.
“I’ve listened to your monkey sex sounds more times than I can count.”
“Whatever.”
“Cheetah cries. Gorilla grunts. Elephant trumpeting. We’ve had people lining up outside our door thinking they were buying tickets to the Bronx zoo!”
Anette rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue in response.
“Oh, put it away,” I said playfully. “There’s no telling where that thing’s been.”
Thirty minutes later, there was a knock on the front door. We looked at each other as I stood from the sofa. “Oh good, he knows how to break into the building,” Anette complained.
“I’m sure he just slipped in behind a delivery person.”
“Did you get a background check on this guy? You don’t know who you could be dealing with.”
I opened the door and was pleasantly surprised to find the man outside exactly matched the guy in the photos. “Hi, Terry right?”
He gave me a very deliberate look up and down, smiled as if pleased with what he saw. “Talia. Am I saying that correctly?” he asked as he came in.
“Talia and Terry, sittin’ in a tree,” Anette sang.
“My roommate. You understand if I don’t introduce you,” I said with a tight smile. “Let me show you to my bedroom…” It was hard to keep from laughing, but once that door shut, Terry was all business.
He was impeccably dressed, like he’d jumped from the pages of a J. Crew catalog. His dark, perfectly styled hair showed a hint of a receding hairline. But who the hell cared? It’s not like I was making babies with him… just practicing.
We didn’t say much to each other before we started kissing. There was just enough attraction there to kindle the flame but nothing like I’d felt with Oliver… or Zach. You can’t expect a lot from someone new, I thought.
Terry peeled my top off and discarded it on the floor, throwing his down to match. His hands were all over me… groping my breasts, pulling at the waist of my jeans, sliding to the back of my head. And like a flashback to my time with Kevin, he pushed my head down into his lap.
Out of instinct, I slapped his hand away and snapped back. “Don’t do that.”
“Sorry! Sorry. I didn’t mean to… it’s just, I take a while to get there, so usually…”
He seemed so genuinely apologetic I let it slide. Besides, I was feeling confident after hearing Zach’s rave reviews and wanted to show off my skills to someone new. I tapped into my inner-porn star and bounced back.
“Of course,” I purred. “Let me take care of you.”
I slipped between his legs as he unzipped his pants. I gave him space enough to pull them down, but instead he simply pulled his hard cock through the open zipper. He hadn’t even unbuttoned his jeans.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable getting naked, sweetheart?” I’m not really sure why I threw the nickname in or why it came out with a little Southern twang. He was already acting a little odd and I think my brain was protecting me from the inevitable crazy by creating a new personality.
“I’ll be fine,” he groaned, cock bouncing.
I took him in my hand and felt that surge of seductive power. A lot of women think giving head is a submissive act but I couldn’t disagree more. A man is never more at your mercy than when his favorite piece of flesh sits between your teeth. I knew I’d probably never see this guy again, but I wanted him to walk away with his own story, something he’d tell buddies at the bar. Guys, there was this one chick… holy shit. I think my balls turned inside out when she sucked me dry.
Things were cooking along nicely. I’d built it up, maintained eye contact, worked my hand in time with my mouth. He was making all those little noises I’d come to love, little moans and groans that told me I was on the right path. I pulled away to stroke him a bit and noticed a wet patch forming around his crotch.
“You should take off the jeans. I can do a better job,” I purred.
Terry seemed reluctant to und
ress, so he carefully fished himself free of the zipper and pulled the pants down to his ankles. It was still weird, but I kept going.
After a few minutes, I could tell he was getting close. I got myself ready for the impending… show? Result? Fireworks? Whatever, you know what I’m talking about. Inside, I was definitely a bit miffed that he was already getting off and I hadn’t even been touched. But then his hand shot down to my wrist and held me steady.
“Whoa, whoa…” he whispered, pulling his hips back. He squeezed his eyes shut and shielded my view of his cock. After a few moments, his dark eyes slowly opened and he released his grip. “Almost came there.”
“Aw, guess I don’t know my own power.” My faith in him was restored. He’s trying to hold out for me, I thought sweetly. “Do you want to, you know…”
He rolled his head back and groaned. “Just a little more? You’re so good at it.” He certainly knew which buttons to press. I smiled wanly but wanted to be a good sport.
I took it slower this time, careful not to work him up too quickly. I have no idea how long I’d been at it, but my jaw was seriously starting to ache. Did you know your tongue can actually cramp? I mean, it makes sense. It’s a muscle. But I’ve never actually used it long enough to find out and I talk a lot. Just as I was about to give my poor mouth a break, he reaches down with both hands and stops me.
“Hold on, just a…” His face contorted even worse this time. He lifted his knee a little, his thigh partially obscuring his now-purple dick. I glanced at the clock and figured I’d been going down on him for almost a half hour. Hell, I didn’t need a watch to tell me I’d been sucking him off for far too long.
A moment later, he sighed and spread his legs again. “God, that was close. You’re too good, you know that?”
I gave him a smile that definitely didn’t reach my eyes. “Thanks. You think I might get a turn here or…”
“Just a minute more. Please. Your tongue is amazing, I don’t know how to say stop.”
I chewed on my amazing, swollen tongue. “Fine. One minute. And I’m timing it.” I watched my alarm clock, not even touching him until the little red number ticked over.
If a job is worth doing, it’s worth doing well. Terry was going to walk away with that story one way or another.
I dug deep. I sucked and stroked like there was a million dollars waiting to be released from inside his balls. My tongue wrote the entire alphabet frontwards and backwards along the tip of his cock. One hand worked the shaft, the other toyed with his balls. In other words, I was a cock sucking world champ for that minute. And despite turning him into a twitchy, groaning, purple-headed mess, there was no reward for all my hard work. When that minute ticked over, I felt oddly disappointed.
“Time’s up,” I declared, releasing his dick. It smacked against his stomach with a loud slap.
“Oh God. Yeah, that’s good. Are you… do you want to?”
At this point, I was happy to glean whatever pleasure I could from the situation. I planned on jumping him, riding him until I came, and I couldn’t care less what happened afterward. My jaw hurt and I was edging along the line of not giving a shit. I rifled through my nightstand but didn’t find any condoms, remembering at the last minute they were all upstairs in Zach’s apartment. Anette wouldn’t have any…
“Hey. Do you have a condom on you?”
Terry shook his head, still looking like a strong breeze might finish him off. “No. I actually left them in my car. I can run down and get one.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
“Okay, cool.” He quickly pulled up his pants, giving his massive bulge a squeeze after zipping everything up. “I’ll be right back.”
I flopped on the bed, feeling completely unsatisfied and a bit upset I’d been Tinder-duped again. But I reassured myself that he’d be back soon and I could get whatever I could.
So I waited. And waited. I vaguely knew what time he’d left since I’d been staring at the clock while going down on him. When it hit five minutes, I jumped off the bed in a huff and threw my shirt back on. Maybe he had to park super far away? Wait… who drives in this city anyway? Especially to a hook up? I waited another couple minutes before going out to the living room.
Anette peered over, reluctant to tear her attention away from the TV. “Was wondering where you were. Dude came tearing through here and didn’t say a word.”
I sat down, perched on the edge of the sofa with my elbows balanced on my knees. I literally couldn’t make sense of it. Why would he leave without finishing? Why would he make me blow him for almost an hour without even touching me? What the fuck was wrong with these people?
“You okay?” Anette asked after a minute. “Did he screw the language center of your brain loose?”
“Nope. We didn’t have sex,” I replied without looking at her.
“Ahhh, did we find another Magic Tongue?”
“If you mean mine, then yes,” I laughed. I heard a shuffle out in the hallway and spun toward the door. But the sound carried downstairs, probably someone doing laundry. My eyes darted back to Anette who was looking at me with wordless questioning. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I sighed.
“Try me.”
I felt like shocking her, so I didn’t deflect the question. “I sucked him off for almost an hour and he didn’t come. I got him close three times and then he got up and left.”
“Just like that?” she giggled.
“Just like that.”
“Why did you let him leave?”
“He said he was getting a condom from his car,” I sighed. She pressed her lips together. I could tell she was struggling with keeping her mouth shut, so with a roll of the eyes, I continued. “Go on…”
“Men are so fucking weird. That’s why I should stick to the pussy. No woman is gonna do shit like that. No one’s got time for that.”
I leaned back with a huff, disappointment overshadowing my horniness by a huge degree. “I’m starting to wonder if I shouldn’t swing that way for a little while.”
“Well, since you already crossed Zach off the list,” Anette cooed as she shifted closer to me. I laughed as she draped a leg over mine, her fingers twirling strands of my hair. “You can find out what my magic skills are.”
Anette thrived on one-upping people. She always accepted the biggest dare, told the dirtiest jokes, pushed the firmest boundaries. So it was really satisfying to see her shocked face when I leaned in for a kiss.
“Okay. Show me how it’s done,” I purred.
She launched herself back like I was trying to take a bite out of her neck. I swear, if her side of the sofa hadn’t been pushed against the wall, she would’ve toppled over the side. It was a few minutes before we recovered from laughing enough to pick up the conversation.
“Do you wanna go out?”
I looked at the clock with a groan. “I’m not really in the mood to drink.”
“Diner then. I’ll buy you cheese fries,” she crowed temptingly. When I hesitated again, she added, “It’s been forever since we’ve had a late night at the diner.”
“You’re right, of course. Let’s go.”
Anette was first out the door, which left me to close and lock it. I was talking to her over my shoulder when I reached for the knob.
“Ew!” I cried, pulling my hand away. It was covered in some cold goopy…
“What the fuck is that?” Anette said, pushing past me.
A few dark streaks dripped down the door, but the handle had really taken the majority of it. I spread my fingers wide and realized with horror what it was.
“He came on the door. Oh my God… Net. He came on the door.”
“Holy shit, that’s so gross!” she shouted.
“Ugh, it’s on me. I have to get it off. Open the door! Open it!”
Anette took two big steps back. “No way in hell am I touching that. You’re already jizzed up. You touch it!”
With a few dry heaves and a couple slips
off the knob, I managed to get back into the apartment. I was more disgusted than I should’ve been given that twenty minutes earlier I was prepared to swallow his load. I snatched a kitchen towel from the counter and did my best to wipe it off.
Anette held a hand to her mouth. I’m not sure if she was trying to keep herself from laughing or puking.
“If you don’t name him Slimer in your blog, you have no right to call yourself a writer.”
As we’d jogged down the front steps, Anette pointed to a couple wet patches on the sidewalk. “Look! Little Terrys! He didn’t even make it to the car before he went for round two,” she’d laughed.
“You’re gonna make me sick,” I gagged. “Please stop.”
She threaded her arm through mine as we walked. “Never.”
Once we ordered, Anette went straight on the offensive.
“Show me your phone. There’s gotta be something wrong with your profile,” she said with an outstretched hand.
“I don’t know if I trust you enough to…”
“Come on. Statistically speaking, you should’ve landed at least one human by now. You’ve managed to find some spectacular losers, including Slimer back there. Lemme look.”
“You’re just gonna mess with me,” I whined. When she waved her hand again, I reluctantly placed it in her palm.
Her fingers closed over it but she didn’t move. “Okay, before I look at this, I need you to tell me what you want.”
“Dick,” I laughed.
“Right. Just dick? Don’t care about the person attached?”
“Of course I care about the guy, but…”
“So you want a relationship,” she said.
“No, not exactly.” Anette leveled a look at me that made me defensive. “What? So what if I don’t know what I want?”
“All right, lemme look through your…” she trailed off as she swiped through my photos. “Yeah, see. This is the problem right here.”
I cradled the mug of coffee between my hands, staring at the swirls of steam floating from the surface. “What? What’s the problem?”
