“Come to me,” I ordered.
He started to stand up.
“No, crawl to me on all fours.”
As he slowly made his way over to me, I lifted my leg over the bed post and scooted over until I was right around the center of the bed. I hiked my dress up so he had full, uninterrupted view of my white panties.
He reached the foot of the bed and stared directly at the wet spot between my legs. He seemed fascinated by it. He reached down with his right hand and stroked himself again.
“My face is up here,” I said.
He raised his eyes and the hungry look in them told me I had him where I wanted.
“You like me?” I asked.
“I love you. You know that,” he replied.
“Then eat my pussy, baby,” I told him.
“Huh?” he asked.
I reached down between my legs and pulled my panties to the side, showing him all of me. His eyes went wide as I pointed at my clit and tapped a finger against it. The feeling of my own finger touching me made my legs twitch. I was so ready for him.
“Right here,” I said. “Lick my pussy and keep fucking yourself with your hand.”
And his mouth was on me. This was our first time going this far. We’d made out a lot and he’d fingered me a few times but this was our first journey into oral sex.
I’d heard the girls at the club talk a lot about oral sex. These were the single girls who’d never taken fellows, the ones who enjoyed sleeping with all the single men instead of being tied down. One had even given me tips and pointers once when she was drunk.
Now that Kent’s face was diving into me, the thought of it sent electricity through my limbs. I twitched and he laughed. We both lacked experience so I wasn’t sure if Kent was any good. But it sure felt like it.
He opened his mouth wide, teeth and all, and devoured my lips. He ate me like he was enjoying a juicy mango or something. His tongue dipped in and licked upwards. It felt so good but there was something missing.
I remembered the pain the first time he put a finger inside me. Then the pain when he tried two fingers. That’s what I needed. I wanted to feel a little bit of hurt.
And more than that I wanted to punish him for not doing it right.
I grabbed his hair, dug my fingernails into his roots, and squeezed. I heard him suck in a painful breath.
“Eat me harder,” I said.
I squeezed again and he did what I supposed was harder. He sucked at my clit.
“Oh fuck,” he cried out and I realized he was going to come soon from beating his dick as he went down on me.
I slapped his face. He winced but kept going.
“Use two fingers and keep licking me,” I commanded.
He had to let go of his cock to use his fingers. Two fingers from his right hand shoved their way into me while his left went to his cock.
“Yes!” I said as I reached down, grabbed his fist, and shoved his fingers into me harder.
It still wasn’t enough.
I reached back and felt between my mattress and box spring. There it was. I’d stolen it from the barn a week before. I wasn’t sure why at the time. I liked the feel of it in my hand I thought. Now I realized it was much more. I wanted to hit Kent with the horse crop.
I wanted to punish him.
With his mouth planted firmly against my clit, I held up the crop, and brought it down against his back. He squealed.
“What the fuck?” he snapped.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I warned him.
He kept fingering me with his tongue swirling over my clit.
I hit him again. This time a little harder. He moaned.
I hit him again. Harder.
Harder.
With each lash I gave him I felt something inside. It was like I was able to shout when I’d been told to remain quiet. I was letting out something inside. And it was fucking incredible.
He whined but kept eating me.
I hit him harder.
I was never violent but I was firm. I could see slight welts on his flesh and I knew I needed to soften up a bit. I did but just barely.
I hit him again. And I felt something inside my pussy that I’d never felt before. I wondered if I was close to coming. Something was happening. My insides were tingling.
“I’m gonna come,” he said.
I hit him again.
“Yes,” he said.
My legs shook. Something was happening. It felt good but it didn’t seem complete. I wasn’t coming. But I think I was close.
“Oh fuck!” Kent said and leaned back.
He pulled his fingers out of me, gripped his cock, and gave in to himself. Suddenly I was only a spectator. He vigorously pumped himself.
“Oh Jessica!” he said as he suddenly winced and cum shot out of the end of his cock.
I watched in awe as he kept repeating my name while cum splashed onto the floor. Then it was dripping out slower and running over his knuckles. I realized I’d taken over playing with my clit.
Finally, Kent reached the end of his climax and came out of his trance-like state. He looked embarrassed to be sitting there in front of me, naked with his cock in his hand. Or was it shame?
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For?”
“For pleasing myself instead of pleasing you,” he said.
And that was the correct answer.
I stood up from the bed and kicked his clothes over to him.
“Yes, we won’t let that happen again will we?”
“No…”
“No what?”
“No, my Dove.”
Once finished with Kent, I shoved him out the window, hopped in the shower, and was on my way out the door.
And that was the morning I turned eighteen.
***
Outside, our little town was quite alive for being so early in the morning. That was typical in our mountain community. With no TV to keep people up late hours surfing channels like zombies, everyone was able to get a good night’s sleep and wake up early enough to be active members of society.
I loved the vibrant energy of our people. For the most part, everyone was always in good spirits. Sure, even Doves got into arguments with their men, or fellows, but because the Doves were ultimately right in all situations, the disputes never lasted long. Usually they ended in delicious make-up sex, with the fellow doing all he could to prove he was still worthy of his Dove’s affections. Or so I’d heard.
The kids were already out running around. School had been canceled for today. The day a Dove came of age was a town holiday and I was the equivalent of Santa Claus or The Easter Bunny from days of old.
How odd. I was an eighteen year old virgin starting out on her new life and to the town I was something like a rock star. I was surprised kids weren’t running up and asking for my autograph. If they did I’d have to sign it: “Live life to its wildest. Love Jessica.”
Or maybe: “Spank the good and whip the bad. Love Jessica.”
I kind of liked giving spankings.
As I strolled the narrow walkways built to take us from home to home without having to walk through the grass, I spotted my favorite empty bench and decided to sit for a spell. I was feeling too overwhelmed. People were looking at me. I think. It seemed they were.
From my perch, I watched boys playing tag while two girls sat together and scooped dirt up with shovels. The boys seemed to want nothing to do with the girls and I thought of how that would change soon enough. They were so innocent playing together with their dirt. One day the boys would be chasing after them and it would be a whole different kind of dirty.
Rachel, a middle-aged Dove, approached the two girls and squatted down next to them. She was the mom of one of the girls. I tried to remember my mom. I’d never met my dad. But my mom I’d known till I was four years old. She’d brought me up the mountain because she knew I’d be treated like gold in the community. Where we’d come from I was always in danger.
But
my mom was bad. She was strung out on drugs and swore if she stayed with me people would come after us. She needed to go back. So she left me here. I remember it was snowing. And I was so cold. And I was standing in the church, my hand on the window, as she went to the brown pickup truck outside and climbed in. She waved back at me once and then she was gone forever.
And I’d been alone. Sure I’d met lots of great people and made lots of friends in the community, but inside I was cold as ice. I’d never been loved. I remember asking my mom about my dad, once, and she’d said he was a bastard and I’d never meet him.
As I watched the little girls playing in the dirt I felt happy for them. They seemed so warm in the sun. They were laughing and having a great time. I’m sure I laughed a lot as a kid too. I’d played in the same area, I’d chased boys and had been chased by them, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember giggling the way they were. I couldn’t remember feeling so carefree and joyous.
“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” I heard a rough voice say.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Pike standing there next to my bench. He was a damn good looking man, long blond hair combed back, the sides of his head shaved and spotted with some badass tattoos. Tattoos covered his arms and neck too.
He was what I hoped Kent would be in a few years. Pike was the kind of guy you wanted to pick you up, slam you into a tree, and fuck the shit out of you. I felt myself getting wet again.
God, why was I so horny? This wasn’t normal.
“You’re up early,” I replied.
Pike didn’t wake up as early as the rest of the town. He liked to party hard into the late hours and sleep any time he wasn’t required to work. I, and everyone else, knew he liked to frequent the club and hang out with the single ladies.
“I have good reason to wake up,” he said.
“And what would that be?”
I saw him staring down at me, at the spot between my legs, and as I lowered my gaze I saw that my legs were open. My dress was covering me so he couldn’t see anything but that didn’t matter. He wanted to see. It was clear if he had X-ray vision he’d be eye fucking the shit out of me right then and there.
Pike sat down next to me and nudged me with his ass, telling me to scoot over. My eyes were drawn to a tattoo on his neck. It was some sort of bird, maybe a sparrow, peeking out from the collar of his T-shirt.
“You’re eighteen today,” he said.
“I am,” I replied as I twisted one curl of my hair around my finger.
“Are you excited?” he asked.
Somehow I knew there was so much more to that question. He put his hand on my knee to confirm it.
“I am excited, Pike.”
Then my mind got right. What the fuck was I thinking? This guy, who wasn’t even my fellow, was playing mind games with me. He knew I was horny. He knew I was craving cock. Or at least I think he did. Either way, this wasn’t the way to go about it. I was a Dove and I was in charge. So I was going to show him that.
“I am excited. You know why?” I said.
Pike stroked my knee with his finger. I swatted it away.
“Why are you excited, baby girl?” he asked.
“I’m excited because this is my day. I’m in charge now. And I will have suitor visits. When I do, the right men, the ones I choose, will show me why I should let them take care of me for the rest of my life. And I want real men, Pike. I want men who can…take care of me…in so many ways. Any man not able to keep up…well…they should just back off.”
Pike looked at me and cocked his head to the side.
“Where’s Lauren?” I asked.
It was my turn to fuck with him a little bit. Who the hell did he think he was coming on to me so early in the morning like I was some naïve little girl ready to fall for the charms of the almighty Pike. I was getting angrier the more I thought about it.
Pike laughed under his breath and looked away.
“Lauren…” he said, letting the word drift on the wind. “Lauren’s complicated.”
I’d heard the stories. Pike had tried to get Lauren to make him her fourth husband, something that was nearly unheard of in our community. Typically women took three husbands. They could take more than that but to do so was seen as being selfish and stupid as more than three always turned into trouble.
Like Agatha, Kent’s mom. Everyone knew that story. The Dove who couldn’t get enough. The nymphomaniac Dove…the one who made the grave mistake. Her story was taught in the schools now, told to young Doves coming of age. It was a lesson in honesty and trust, greed and lust, and passion unhinged. Agatha. Lauren. Lauren who almost became the next Agatha.
“Have you met Kye?” I asked.
Pike whipped his head to the side and glared at me. He’d heard of Kye. Kye was the only man who made it through the Agatha situation. He was the oldest of the men in the community at age 60 and had remarried Mayzie. But he was always looked at as the man who survived Agatha’s ordeal. Kent hated him. Technically he was his dad being the only living male from the family but Kent didn’t see it that way and wanted nothing to do with him.
“Are we not friends?” Pike asked me. “Cause I sense a bit of tension between us that I’m not quite understanding.”
Of course he wouldn’t understand. And no, there was no tension. I wanted Pike. I wanted him more than any other man in the community. But the problem was, Pike expected me to want him. And that just wouldn’t do. A Dove can’t run her household if the fellows think they have the upper hand.
“Do you want there to be tension between us?” I asked him.
“You’re confusing me,” Pike said. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. I thought…you know I just thought we might have something worth pursuing. The Seven, they’ve been prepping me to be with you since I got here.”
“I think I should have a say in who I’m with, don’t you, Pikey?” I said.
I stood and was about to walk away when I turned back to him. I moved close so my pussy was close to his mouth. He breathed in quietly but deep through his nose and I knew he was trying to smell me. I grabbed his chin and raised it up so he was looking up into my face.
“Things are about to change,” I said. “You won’t have me just because a group of women have told you we’d make a good couple. If you want me you need to show me. Do you understand?”
Pike nodded but still looked unclear.
“Pike,” I said. “Fucking show me what you will do for me. Because if you choose me and I choose you, you are fucking mine. Do you understand? You will not be Lauren’s. You will not be a free bird roaming around ready to fuck everything that moves. You will be mine. Your COCK will be mine. Think about that. Because I do not share and I don’t play nicely with others.”
With that, I turned and walked away.
It wasn’t until I was a few feet down the sidewalk that I realized my heart was pounding. Holy shit, I was nervous. What had gotten into me? Pike was big, strong, intimidating. And I’d treated him like he meant nothing.
As usual, people were lined up at Dominic’s food cart. The man was amazing at what he had to work with. Today he was serving hot cakes and some sort of warm cereal. It looked like oatmeal with raisins in it. As I stood in line to get food it seemed that everyone was checking me out, watching me.
Finally, my friend Tilda met me in line. She was the sixteen year old I mentioned living with. She was cute, with long curly black hair and a bit of a pig nose. But it made her look adorable.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“No,” I admitted. “This day is really weird. Even people who usually say hello to me aren’t. It’s like I have an illness or something.”
Tilda laughed.
“Not an illness, sweetie. You’re just the most popular chick in camp today. Own it.”
“I’m trying to own it.”
Tilda checked me out. She always checked me out. I’d always wondered if she were bi-sexual, or even straight up gay. It wasn’t unheard
of in our community. There were two known lesbian Dove couples. Lana and Rachel were full blown lesbians. They didn’t have fellows in their house at all. It was only the two of them.
Then there was Vera and Kimberly, neighbors who both had three husbands of their own but the rumor was that they secretly enjoyed each other’s company from time to time and that the husbands might’ve even gotten involved.
The Trouble with Virgins (A Dystopian Romance Novella): Daughters of Venus Book 2 Page 2
