Take On Me: Plantain Series Book Three

by Amelia Oliver

I lick my lips then stick my tongue out, trailing all the way up and then stop, looking at her for critique.

  “Good,” she smiles with excitement. “Do it again, but this time when you get to the top, put it in your mouth.”

  I swallow before doing it again, the rough tip of the banana feeling weird against my tongue.

  “Good!” she says loudly. “Now is the part when you want to keep teasing, but take more in. So put the head in, pull back, then take a little more, pull back, and so on.”

  I look at her, was I really going to give a banana a blow job in front of her?

  “A blow job is to make him hard as fuck and to get it wet because even though you might be wet, his dick needs to be too…unless you use a condom, so in that case, just make him hard and drive him crazy.”

  I lick the underside, my mouth taking it in, pulling back, pushing in a little more, pulling back. It’s smooth in my mouth but feels so weird because, hello, it’s not a dick.

  “Relax, he’ll know if you’re not into it, bring pleasure, focus on that.”

  I continue and test to see how far I can really take this thing, but just a little past midway and I gag, pulling the thing out and swallowing.

  “It’s okay,” she tells me, “but I think you got the gist, how do you feel about it?” she asks.

  “Better than I did, I don’t know all this sexual stuff and it just makes me so nervous. I just want it to be good, I don’t want to go in with zero experience. I mean Maven, I’ve never even seen an R-rated movie,” I tell her.

  “So wait,” she stops, putting her hands up and showing me her palms, “you’ve asked me about foreplay, but what do you know about sex?”

  “The guy puts it in and you get pregnant,” I state.

  “This is a totally different level Katie, you need a crash course,” she says standing, moving over to Dornan’s dresser where she begins opening and closing drawers as she digs around.

  “I do?”

  “Oh yes, I can’t have you going in with no expectations, that would be cruel.”

  She rifles through his clothes, looking for something.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  She moves to the floor and looks under the bed, pulling shoe boxes out and opening them as I lean over the bed to watch.

  “Ah ha!” she exclaims, sitting up and holding videos in black cases.

  “Um.” I look at her like she’s lost her mind and she stands, opening one and turning on the television on the other dresser by the door.

  Pushing the VHS into the player and grabbing the remotes, she walks back over to the bed and sits down, this time facing the T.V. I do the same and watch as the movie starts, then my eyes are bombarded with boobs. There’s a naked woman giving a naked guy a blow job, in what looks like to be an office.

  “Is this?” I ask, my eyes not leaving the screen.

  “Good ol’ fashioned porn, now mind you, this isn’t really sex, but it’s good enough.”

  I watch the film fascinated, and occasionally Maven gives little side notes.

  “See how she’s cupping his balls?” and, “she sounds really fake, don’t do that.”

  We watch the first movie all the way through, then the second one is highlights of a bunch of movies. The women all have massive breasts, they’re skinny and tan, and all the guys have horse dicks and are covered in oil. It’s not turning me on, or maybe it’s because I’m watching with a girl and we’re dissecting the shit out of it.

  Maven grabs the banana and unpeels it, breaking it in half and handing me one piece. We’re lying on our stomachs, resting on our elbows as we watch porn and eat. Then the apartment door opens and we look up to see Dornan and Joey standing there, they look at us, then their expressions change as they hear the moans and groans coming from the movie. Maven and I look at each other, before busting up laughing. We continue to giggle as Dornan reaches over and turns off the movie.

  “What the fuck V?” he says with furrowed brows.

  My eyes move to Joey’s, his pupils are dilated and he’s looking at me like he does just before he kisses me.

  “Oh calm down,” Maven says coolly, sitting up and finishing her banana. “We were just doing some research,” she tells him, standing from the bed.

  Dornan moves in and they begin arguing, while I stand and walk to Joey, and we leave the two to bicker.

  “The tournament over?” I ask.

  “Yeah-were you guys just watching porn?” he asks, still trying to process what he’d walked in on.

  “Take me somewhere private,” I tell him and his eyes go from confused into molten.

  His hand tightens around mine as he turns us around, guiding us down the other way. I haven’t been past Dornan’s room before, and I didn’t know there were more apartments back here. Joey’s practically running, and I need to walk fast to keep up with him. We stop at a door, and his fingers run along the top of the doorframe, revealing a key. He unlocks the door and opens it to darkness, extending an arm for me to enter first.

  If I wasn’t totally amped to suck his dick, I’d be telling him to go into the scary dark room first. Instead, I enter and turn to face him, he moves to come towards me, lifting the same hand to turn the light on. But I stop his hand and begin kissing him, the light from the hallway glowing behind him. My tongue swipes over his lower lip, then his tongue as I put both my hands on his chest, trailing my fingers down until they get to the top of his jeans and belt buckle. Then one hand moves lower to grasp his erection, my palm rubbing over it beneath his jeans.

  “Jesus,” he sighs as he cups my face.

  But I slip out of his hands as I move to my knees, looking up as he glances down either direction of the hall.

  “Here?” he asks.

  I nod and watch as I undo the buckle, button and zipper. Opening the slit and reaching in, my hand wraps around his dick, pulling it out and taking it all in. He’s long and thick, and it curves up, kind of like that banana. Veins swirl in jagged patterns under the skin, while grasping the base, his pubic hair nesting my hand there. I remember Maven’s lesson and run my tongue along the underside, watching his chest heave, his head bowing for a moment as he blinks slowly.

  When my mouth sucks around the head, his body jerks, his brows furrowing as his lips part and he groans. Then I begin pushing more past my lips. My heart’s racing, as I remind myself not to go too deep, not to gag, to suck and stroke. Then I remember to cup the balls, and I reach up with my other hand to do that. My eyes closing so I can concentrate on my actions, but in doing so I take too much and gag, pulling back and breathing hard.

  “Sorry,” I say and curse myself for being over confident.

  “No, beautiful,” he says, his hands bringing my head up and my eyes to his. “You okay?”

  I nod and swallow.

  “Don’t apologize, feels fucking fantastic,” he stammers, as my hand wraps around him again.

  “Keep going?” I ask, the head swiping across my lower lip as I get back into position.

  “Oh shit, yes, yes, keep going.”

  So I continue, only gagging one or two more times, but instead of stopping, I just keep going. Joey’s hands move to my shoulders, his head falling back as he begins to thrust his hips, he’s moaning and inhaling through his teeth, and I’m pretty sure he likes it.

  “Can I put my hand on your head?” he asks, moving one hand to gather the bottom of his shirt at his abs to clear his view to watch me.

  “Mmmm,” I moan around him.

  “Fuck,” he says in reaction, his other hand sliding into my hair and grasping the back of my head. “Your mouth is like, fucking, shit, so fucking good.”

  I love that he can’t formulate a coherent sentence. “Look at me-about to…I’m coming,” he moans and I watch his face morph, his upper body curling over me.

  Warmth lashes over my tongue as he quickly fills my mouth, and I keep him there until he’s done, then swallow. He helps me to my feet, and wraps his arms around me, he’s sti
ll breathing fast and I nuzzle into his chest.

  “Was that all right?” he pants, tucking himself back inside his jeans.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” I smile and let out a small laugh.

  “Shit,” he laughs and leans back. “That, well that was more than all right…I don’t think there’s a word I know that can describe that,” he tells me. “I love you,” he adds.

  “I love you.”

  “You wanna go back to my parents’ or stay here a while longer?” he asks, turning to face me and stepping out into the hallway.

  “Sure, let’s go,” I smile and take his hand.

  When we get home, we head upstairs, and since his parents aren’t back yet, we start making out in the kitchen. He fingers me on the staircase as we made our way up to his room, and I give him another blow job on his bed. When I get back to my feet, he attempts to undress me, and moves to lift my shirt up.

  “Wait, I want to shower before bed,” I say, stepping back.

  Before he can say anything, I turn to grab my backpack off the floor by the dresser. I set it on the bed as he sits down beside it, looking in as I search for a clip for my hair, and he reaches in and grabs my Lady Bic. He’s seen the razor in my bag before, but he’s never asked me about it, until now.

  “What’s with the razor,” he asks in a serious tone, looking up at me, “and don’t say it’s part of your toiletries, this was in your bag the first day we met-”

  “Joey,” I say annoyed, and try to reach for it.

  “No, I want you to tell me,” he says, pulling his hand away.

  “You’re being silly,” I try to joke.

  He looks at me, then furrows his brows.

  “Are you a cutter or something?” he asks.

  My brows pinch together. “Why do you think that?”

  “You won’t let me take your shirt off, you wince when I touch your back, you hide a razor…”

  “My parents won’t let me shave okay? Caring about appearances attracts guys, which distracts from school. I have to hide it in my bag, so they won’t take it away,” I tell him flatly, because I’m almost a little insulted that that’s the conclusion he came to.

  I should just say I am, because I can’t explain to him about my back. But I can’t get myself to lie about something as serious as self-mutilation.

  “I’m sorry,” he says taking my hand.

  “No, I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair to you that I won’t get completely naked with you-”

  “I’ve never said anything about that beautiful, I know you have to feel comfortable to do that, and I’m not trying to make you do something you don’t want to.”

  My eyes sting with how understanding this man is. He’s right, he never makes me feel like I need to, just like he never pressures me into having sex. I know we both want to, but I want it to be perfect, and I feel like I can’t give him that until I can share with him the truth about my scars.

  Six days is over in a flash and soon enough Joey’s dropping me off on Friday evening, down the street from my parents’ house. He drove his car to transport me and my suitcase, and because the Cadillac has a bench seat, we’re able to make out in the front for a minute before I have to go.

  “I’ll see you Monday at the library,” he tells me, running his thumb over my lower lip.

  “Yes, I love you,” I tell him.

  “I love you, Katie.”

  “Drive home safely okay?” I say, exiting the car.

  He nods and fires up the engine, sitting there until I approach the street corner and I give him a wave after blowing him a kiss as he drives by. When I get home, no one’s there, although my mom’s car is in the driveway. Which is strange because both of them should be home from work, but maybe they went to the store together or something. I drop my bags off in my room and take a long shower. It’s much later, and now I’m beginning to wonder where my parents are when I hear the front door. I see my parents looking exhausted as I stand in the hallway. When my dad notices me, his eyes turn hard.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” he growls.

  “What? Here, the buses just dropped us off earlier-”

  “The busses got back two days ago, there was an incident at a monument and all the locations the school was going to closed down for security, so your class came home early.”

  My stomach drops, my mouth instantly filling with pre-vomit, my hands beginning to shake, and my mind races with some excuse as to where I’ve been.

  “I-”

  Dad lunges at me, and I barely turn before he’s catching me by the back of the shirt and pushing me into the wall, hitting my head and ear hard with the force as I tried to turn my head. His fists pound on my back, hitting my bones and knocking air from my lungs. My arms cover my head, but he gets a few connections there.

  I’m screaming and trying to crawl towards a room or something to get away. My mom steps in front of me and grabs the back of my hair, lifting me up onto my knees and smacking my cheek. I yank my head away, pulling my hair away from my head. My dad storms down the hallway as my mom screams at me.

  “Whore! Slut! Who were you with? You whore!”

  My mom’s smaller than me, so I try to push her away, but as I raise my head the room goes blurry and begins to spin from the blows to my head, and she’s able to knock me down onto my stomach. I notice everything at once, the smell of the burner on, my mom lifting the back of my shirt, my dad cursing me.

  “You will never learn! We tried to be patient with you Katherine, we tried. But there’s only so much patience we have, I guess we need to remind you what happens when you can’t follow the rules,” he preaches, just before he sits on the back of my legs.

  My mom is holding my hands down, just as he presses the bottom of the burning cooking pan onto my back. My skin sizzles, but cuts through my scars and I cry out. The fabric of my bra melts into my skin and the smell of burning flesh turns my stomach. I scream as tears run down my face, my hands ball into fists, and my voice breaks to nothing. He repeatedly lifts the pan and places it somewhere else. My head falls with a thud to the floor, my cheek against the carpet, my mom moving to put her knee on my head to help restrain me, but my body doesn’t fight it anymore as I go into shock.

  Dad gets up to get the second pan he always heats up to replace the cooling one with, and it’s then I find the strength to move. I buck and knock my mom off me and into the wall, crawling a moment before getting to my feet, and I grab the phone just inside the door to my parent’s bedroom, before ducking into my room and slamming the door, the cord coming through the space between the floor and the bottom of the door.

  “Come out Katherine!” Mom says pounding on the door.

  I shakily dial Joey’s number, my back throbbing, and Gwen answers.

  “Please send Joey,” I pant, “8575 Glendale-”

  Suddenly the cord is pulled from under the door and out from the back of the phone. I reach for the small desk chair I have with my foot as I hold the door closed with my palms. Bringing it to me and jamming it beneath the door handle. Both my parents are yelling and banging their fists on the door.

  “It will be worse for you if you don’t come out!” Dad growls.

  I move over to my small dresser, using all my strength to push it against the door, knocking the chair away to barricade the door more securely. I slide under my bed on my stomach and close my eyes, breathing hard and willing Joey to come as fast as he can. The windows are a lost cause since my dad nailed those shut years ago, and the neighbors never call the police for whatever reason, Joey’s my only hope.

  It seems like an eternity I lay there hiding, as my adrenaline waivers, I assess that my nose is bleeding, the side of my face and ear hurt from hitting the wall, and my back is a mangled mess. It stung like hell as I pulled my shirt down, and I can feel the fabric sticking to it now.

  My parents have given up on banging at the door, but remain there, taking turns threatening me with words. My eyes grow heavy, and I fe
el exhausted, either from what happened or my shock wavering. Then I think I hear the rumbling of a bike, no, bikes, and a car come to a screeching halt outside the house. Then there’s sounds from the front door, my dad says something in the hallway, then I hear him yelling closer to the front of the house. My heart begins to pound again, and I slide out from under the bed, wincing at the pain.

  “Katie?!” I hear Joey calling from the end of the hallway.

  “Here!” I reply and attempt to move the dresser away from the door, but it’s harder this time.

  He bangs on the door. “Katie?”

  I grunt as I move the furniture just a little more before the door opens. I slump to my knees and watch as his boots enter my room, then turn towards me before he’s kneeling before me. His hand cupping my face, and I see a look of terror fill his expression.

  “Please, get me out of here,” I whisper.

  He nods and I hear my dad and someone else arguing in the living room,

  “You really wanna fuck with me?” I hear Joseph say.

  Joey takes my hands and helps me onto my feet, and my head spins. He attempts to put his arm around my back, but takes one look at me and says. “How do I help you?” His voice a broken plea.

  “I’ll hold onto you,” I tell him.

  I grab his arm and hold on tightly as he helps me walk down the hall.

  “If you don’t want us to call the fuckin’ cops, then you’ll forget her and let her come with us.”

  When we come into view of the living room, I see Joseph, Sven, Owen, and Dornan there. All standing before my dad who looks terrified, but still isn’t giving up the fight.

  “Figures she’d be with the lowest of the low,” Mom spits.

  “You need to fuck off,” Gwen says and I see her beside Dornan.

  “Mom,” Joey says and they all look over at us.

  “Jesus,” Gwen exhales and comes to my other side. “Come on sweetie, let’s go,” she says softly, taking one of my arms into hers.

  I hear my dad grunt and the shuffling of bodies behind us, but I’ve closed my eyes and dropped my head as we make it to the front door. I don’t need to see, to know that one of them, if not all are beating my dad up.