Under the Cornerstone

by Sasha Marshall

  Nope. Can't remember shit. Sorry folks.

  My bed dips on the opposite side and a large, calloused hands reach under the covers for me. They land on the skin of my stomach and momentarily stills before they grab hold and pull me to him. My back melts into his chest as he snuggles me into him.

  "I'm sorry I yelled,” he whispers in my ear and even in my current state of undoing it reaches somewhere deep inside.

  Somewhere it shouldn't.

  "You're an asshole," I say softly.

  "Sometimes. I'm not mad at you, but nobody puts their hands on you like that. I told you that a long time ago."

  Johnny and I became friends late in grade school. I was the tomboy and the girls were as mean as runny cat shit. Johnny took up for me one day when some stupid cunt put glue in my hair. We've been friends ever since.

  The twins (Rich and Ryan) and Jimmy joined us in middle school, right about the same time my mom died, leaving me to a neglectful stepfather who liked my social security check more than he liked to remember I was there.

  When I was twelve, my stepfather came into my room one night drunk off his ass and tried to feel me up. I put the palm of my little hand in his nose and ran away into the night.

  I missed school for a week as I ducked and dodged through Brooklyn afraid the bastard would find me. Johnny's dad found me at his favorite deli begging for a handout a week later. I was dirty, cold and hungry.

  The man has always been nice to me and for some reason I trusted him to tell him what happened. My shit was packed from my stepfather's apartment that night, and I spent the next three years bouncing between all the boy’s houses. Each parent tried to set me up a room permanently, but I was always too scared to wear out my welcome. I was lucky to have them, but I didn't have anyone else. I was too afraid to end up in the system.

  When I was fifteen, Johnny's dad put a stop to that shit. He rented a three-bedroom apartment and moved me in. He made sure my social security checks were used to feed and clothe me, and the other parents saw after me as well.

  Johnny was the one who told me about my period, helped me buy my first bra, and beat the shit out of the boy who took my virginity.

  The guys protected me. They made sure I went to college, and helped me find my first apartment. I went to college and anytime I thought about giving it up, I was promptly put in my place by all my friends and their parents.

  But I wanted to do this on my own. It's a life lesson I have to learn, because Johnny and company won't always be there to pick up the pieces.

  "I didn’t want anyone to know," I admit.

  "Too late for that."

  "That’s not your decision to make."

  "I made it, Noles."

  "Well, those times are coming to an end. You guys will be on tour. It's time I live my own life," I tell him.

  "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he snaps.

  I don't answer him because I'm tired and there's no energy left to fight with him.

  He flips me over to face him and I wince.

  "Answer me,” he demands.

  "I'm tired," I answer. “I don’t want anyone else to know, Johnny. You made it your business, but not a word to anyone else.”

  He pulls the cover off of us, steps off the bed and scoops me up in his arms. I don't fight him this time, and once again I could care less that I'm only in a bra and panties.

  He places me on the bathroom vanity once again and gently wipes the makeup off. He winces as the black and blue is uncovered. My cuts are covered with peroxide and ointment, and then he brushes my hair for me. He then pulls his cell out and documents the damage.

  After he snaps photos of the bruises on my arms, he continues to my ribs. His fingers touch the spot on my ribs softly dragging the tips up and down.

  I turn my head, ashamed all over again that he knows, that he sees me like this.

  "You deserve better than this, Noely."

  I swallow any response I could've made because it just doesn't matter. I may deserve better, but that’s not what I got, it has never been what I’ve gotten.

  "You deserve so much fucking more,” he whispers and pulls my chin up until I'm looking him in the eye.

  "This stays between us," my lip quivers at the thought of all my friends discovering who

  I've let myself become.

  He searches my face, but his eyes keep moving to my lips, and something new and different erupts inside of me.

  Chapter Two

  He leans in so slowly that I see it coming. There was no way I could mistake what was going to happen. He gave me time to make a decision. I could've turned my head. I could've found a way to get out of it, but I didn’t. I let him kiss me, busted lip and all.

  His lips press sweetly against mine as his hands cup my face with care.

  I know when his tongue pushes into my mouth that we've crossed a line. Call it vulnerability or curiosity, but I step over that line with him willingly. He tastes like tequila and cigarettes, the things I always imagined men like him would taste like.

  He kisses me for what seems like forever, and I give him everything back that he throws at me. Our hands start to wander, his gentler than mine. Next thing I know I'm lifted in the air, his hands on my hips, and my legs wrap around his middle.

  It takes less than a minute before he places me on the bed and I'm lying on my back. His body is between my legs, rubbing his hard dick against my panties.

  He pulls away just enough to speak, "Fuck."

  Johnny looks deep into my eyes and searches for something, but I'm not quite sure what.

  "Tell me no,” he begs.

  I wish my response had been an immediate and resounding no. I wish there had been no hesitation on my part. I wish I could say I didn't want this with him, or that I knew what in the hell I was doing.

  When he receives no response from me he leans down and kisses me again as if one more will make the decision for us. Maybe it does. I push my fingertips up his lower back and push the shirt up until I pull it over his head. The kiss is broken for a second before he dives back in as gently as he can.

  Fingertips push under my back and unhook my bra, before he pulls the straps down my arms and breaks away from my mouth. He takes a long look at my breasts and slowly drags his fingertips along the peaks and valley.

  This is what I always thought sex would be like instead of the machine gun pumping and clumsy fondling I've grown accustomed to. A man has never given me an orgasm and I've sure as fuck never felt worshipped or adored.

  "I always knew you'd be this beautiful," Johnny says and lowers himself back down to kiss me once again.

  A finger plays at the top hem of my panties, so I play with the top hem of his jeans in return. My touch makes him moan into my mouth while he makes me squirm not able to take much more.

  I unbutton his jeans and push them down with his boxers. I feel him freed against my stomach and reach down for him, but his hand grabs my wrist to stop me abruptly bringing our kiss to a stop as well.

  "Fuck, Noely. If you touch me, I won't be able to stop,” he whispers through labored breathing.

  I'm not sure whether he really wants this to stop or not, so I freeze and stare back at him with confusion in my eyes. It's the same uncertainty his own eyes are filled with.

  Have we already gone too far? What happens after? What happens to all these years of friendship? Can you really ignore the fact that you fucked someone, maybe you shouldn't have?

  Before I can ask myself all the important questions, his fingers touch the tops of my thighs while his eyes bore into me. Then they move to the edge of my panties inside my right leg. He watches me intensely while he pushes the fabric to the side, and slides the pad of his finger up the middle of me.

  I close my eyes and moan because he's barely touching me and I'm about to come unglued.

  "Shit," is his reply to the moan.

  His finger slides inside of me making me call o
ut a "fuck".

  "God, Noe."

  I reach down and grab him more out of instinct than conscious thought. He hisses in pleasure and his finger disappears. He quickly kicks off his pants and holds them up to dig into a pocket. He produces a condom and tears the packet with his teeth. Once he's sheathed, he wastes no time ripping my panties down my leg.

  I think he's going to give me what he made me want, but he stops short and bends down to my pussy. My legs are yanked over his shoulder and he begins to lick me.

  "Oh fuck," I yell louder than I really mean to.

  "Tastes so fucking good,” he speaks against my lips and goes back to licking and fingering me.

  I've never been a fan of receiving oral, but now I know what all the fuss is about. My fingers push through his blonde hair and hold on for dear life as I teeter towards oblivion. I clench down right before I come and he pulls his fingers out of me and kisses his way up my stomach.

  "Don't stop," I beg.

  "I want you to come with me,” he speaks against my skin.

  He continues to kiss until he reaches my chest, where he takes his time with his hands, mouth, tongue, and teeth on each one of my breasts. I almost come again, but he stops. I pull my knees back as far back as I can, hoping he'll get the hint.

  "Put me in,” he whispers against my neck.

  My hand is full of him when I reach between him and guide him to my entrance. His lips land on mine as he pushes inside.

  Fuck me running, his cock is glorious.

  He doesn't move once he's seated inside of me, but gives the kiss he's yet to break all of his attention. I squirm underneath him, needing friction and to end this torment.

  It gets him moving. I expected a hot, steamy, porn-style, fuck from Johnny. I could write a book about the things I've heard in the girl’s bathroom in high school and in the bars he's played in. I've heard play-by-play recounts like it was a damn football game. He fucks and he fucks hard. I didn't need to hear the other side of the stories to know, he'll tell anyone who will listen.

  That's not what I get. He doesn't fuck me hard. I don't feel like a porn star. I'm not being tossed around like a rag doll licking all of his tattoos from the different angles he bends my body.

  "You're not hurting me," I urge him on as I realize he might be afraid of the bruises.

  He doesn't respond, but keeps up his slow pace instead. His hands and lips travel all over my body, and I return the favor. He's six feet. He's toned. He's tattooed and even I have to admit they look good from my missionary vantage point. Maybe there's something to being fucked by a man covered in ink.

  I finally turn off my brain and let my body enjoy the experience. God only knows it's the best one I've ever had. Our bodies become tangled with our limbs moving, pulling, pushing, and fingers touching every inch.

  Our mouths connect almost constantly, but there's no fight for control like I've experienced in so many kisses. I find myself looking back into his blue eyes a lot and trying not to wonder what he's thinking as he looks inside of me.

  His hand pushes under my right ass cheek and when he squeezes he slightly changes the angle.

  He's hit the jackpot.

  "Fuck. Right there," I beg and throw my head back.

  He kisses my chin and moves in and out of me with expert precision. His free hand creeps under my head and pulls my face back to his.

  "I want to watch,” he says. "Always wondered what you'd look like."

  He slowly works up the frenzy between my legs and places his lips all over my face in kisses while I wait for my first ever man-made orgasm. And not one produced by a damn battery operated man-made gadget.

  My eyes flutter closed as the tingles start in the center of my body and explode to every cell inside. I have no idea what I say or scream rather, but I'm pretty sure I get my point across. I want one of these on the hour every hour for the rest of my life.

  I open my eyes when the spasms subside and find those gorgeous baby blues staring at me in... Awe?

  He pulls up on my ass even harder and grabs a handful of my hair. I wince since it's still tender from Tony's ass whopping earlier. He doesn't notice. His baby blues get this far away look and his full lips part slightly as he calls out my name. He gets the same look on his face when he's lost in another world with his guitar. His dick jumps inside of me and then his eyes close as his release overtakes him.

  His lips press to mine as a shiver runs through him... a shiver I can feel. His tongue touches mine and we stay that way for a while... gently kissing like we've been lovers our entire lives, instead of friends for fifteen years. Friends who have never crossed this line before. We've never even been close.

  Johnny pulls out of me, reaches down, removes the condom, and drops it over the side of the bed. His body lands next to mine on the bed, and then I'm pulled into his chest.

  Chapter Three

  I wake the next morning to an empty bed. I shouldn't be surprised. It's Johnny we're talking about here. Maybe I thought all these years of friendship meant something, that he would’ve treated this differently than all the others before me. But I've officially joined the platinum club level of the Johnny Rome One-Time Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma'am Club.

  I wipe my hands over my face and instantly regret it. I forgot those damn bruises were there. The bruises don't hurt as much as my fucking soul does though. I look over at the pillow next to me and see the bed is still ruffled from where he slept beside me... Naked.

  Coffee. I need coffee.

  My wary body protests, but finally cooperates as I exit the bed and step to the coffee maker wishing I had a fairy that knew when I want this shit so I never have to wait. I'm a fan of instant gratification.

  Clearly.

  I drink my first cup of coffee and look around my apartment to see if he left a note. I even check the toilet because that would be such a Johnny thing to do. I flip his pillow over one last time to make sure he didn't tuck it underneath.

  Nothing.

  The light bulb in my head goes off. I check my phone only to discover forty missed calls and texts. I swipe through them quickly.

  All last night. None from Johnny since he stuck his dick in me. I've become the kind of girl who allows a man to push her around and now I've become the stupid, stupid bitch who wonders why a man isn't in her bed the next morning. Better yet, I've become the stupid bitch who gets all torn up about it.

  Shit on a stick.

  I take a sleeping pill and go back to bed. If I'm sleeping it won't hurt so fucking bad.

  I wake at two in the morning and instantly check my phone like the pathetic woman I am. Nothing from him. So, I do the next stupid bitch thing and check his social media.

  Motherfucker.

  He left my bed before six this morning and apparently joined the end of his party. Pictures of him with all of our friends are tagged at Rich's place. They’re plastered all over his accounts. Women are in the background while I bet he still smells like me.

  Platinum club member on a Saturday night with a bruised body and a mangled heart.

  Pathetic.

  A notification pings on my phone. I swipe it and see Johnny has posted another picture. Five fucking seconds ago. And he's with a long-haired blonde bitch with blue eyes and a nice chest. At least we know he has a type.

  I throw my phone across the room. I might cry myself to sleep at the deplorable low I've reached in my life. I let my best friend make me that girl, and it’s not like I really liked the girl I was to begin with.

  My phone rings as I sit on a tropical beach with a mojito in hand and look at all the eye candy I could ever wish for. I reach down into my beach bag and silence my phone, but the damn thing starts right back ringing.

  My beach fades to dark and the sounds of beeping horns and shouts from the Brooklyn street below assault me. Reality blows.

  The phone silences and rings once again. I climb out of bed to find where I threw the damn thing but it'
s dark so I'm following the sound.

  The phone casts a light I finally find.

  "Hello?" I answer the unknown number.

  "An inmate at the New York City Police Department, 13th Precinct, is calling collect. The call is from... 'Noely it's Jimmy!'... If you wish to accept these charges, please press '1'."

  I press one.

  "Jimmy?!!" I ask freaked the fuck out.

  "Shit, Noe. I didn't think you'd ever pick up. Look, I know it's late, but I need bail. I'll stop at an ATM and pay you right back when I get the fuck out of here," Jimmy says in his thick Brooklyn accent.

  "What the fuck did you do?" I ask in my best mother tone.

  He chuckles. Only this guy would chuckle while calling me collect from jail.

  "Got into a skirmish."

  I roll my eyes, "Yeah? They book you on first degree skirmish, asshole?"

  He whines, "Come on, Noely baby help me out. I'd bail you out of jail, no questions asked."

  He would. True story.

  "Yeah, but you'd probably be in jail with me and then where the fuck would we be?" I ask him half-joking.

  "Reliving the high, Noely baby."

  "I'll be there in twenty," I tell him.

  "I can always count on you, Noles," I hear the smile in his voice.

  We disconnect and I jump in the shower for all of three minutes. I brush my teeth, throw on a Blood Feather tee without thinking, roll my eyes, and push my feet into some combat boots. I run the brush through my long blonde hair and throw my favorite Yankees cap on.

  I half-walk, half-jog to the precinct and wait for someone to tell me how much Jimmy's bail is going to cost me. Once I get an answer, I make the withdrawal at the corner ATM and head back to the precinct to pay it.

  "I'm paying bail for Jimmy... James Crawford," I tell the man.

  I hand him the money, sign paperwork, and wait for my friend in the lobby. As I enter the waiting area, Johnny's father, and their manager Leo walk in the front door of the precinct.