by Wilde, Ora
I stood up as I tried to regain my composure. His touch was very... disarming. What scared me the most, however, was the fact that I didn’t know why he had that kind of an effect on me... that my body would respond that way to the feel of his skin.
I went back to my drawers to get more towels.
When I turned around, I saw him looking at me... all of me... his eyes surveyed the entirety of my body... from my thighs to my stomach... to my breasts.... to my arms... to my neck... before settling on my face. When he noticed that I was staring at him, he quickly tipped his head to his left and pretended to look at something else.
I scowled in humiliation when I remembered that I was just wearing my nightie. Its fabric was too thin, almost transparent. My breasts pushed out of its soft textile. My thighs were very much revealed, owing to how short the nightdress was. My nipples, pinkish as they were, surely screamed at him as their color made them protrude from the silky texture of my gown.
My bare form was very much visible for his scrutiny.
Or perhaps, his enjoyment?
“I’m sorry,” I tried to reason out. I didn’t have to say anything, but I didn’t like the awkwardness of that moment to persist. “I didn’t have time to wear something... modest,” I continued as I clutched the towels near my breasts in a belated attempt to conceal them.
“Well,” he said, almost groaning because of the pain that lingered, “all I saw were your legs. Nothing new. I always see them everyday, anyway. During your practices.”
That was a nice way of dismissing what was a discomforting episode.
“Speaking of which,” I spoke, “what were you doing there anyway? You haven’t really answered me when I asked you yesterday.”
And just like yesterday, I was met with the same response... silence.
“If you like Jaynie... I mean, who doesn’t like Jaynie, right?” I continued. “If you like her, I can introduce you to her. Or maybe you like Kyla, the tanned brunette who’s always wearing a ponytail? The second prettiest girl there, next to Jaynie? I could introduce you to her, too... but I must warn you... she has a less than stellar reputation. Many people say she sleeps around and brags about her... sexual conquests. She’s very risky.”
I stopped when I realized I was already babbling.
“Turn to your side,” I instructed him, and he complied. He shifted his body towards the left side of the bed, his eyes away from me.
I sat behind him and wiped his back with the new set of towels.
The flesh that extended from his spine were sculpted by muscles... not overly big, but prominent enough to define his physique. Gone was the shy and skinny kid I met four years ago, when Aunt Susan tugged him along as they moved in with us. He may still be timid at times, in an entrancingly mysterious kind of way, but his body... his body was that of a man molded by toil... hard labor that was physically taxing. What kind of work that was, I wouldn’t know.
I knew so little about him.
I extended my hands over his shoulders, towards his chest. The sturdiness of his torso surprised me. His body looked tight, but touching it... feeling it... for the first time... a body aside from Finn’s... made me shiver for reasons I dared not think about. I was repulsed by what I felt, yet, an exhilarating sensation also cascaded throughout my system.
Snap out of it, Andrea!
As I continued to wipe the dirt and the dried blood on his chest, my breasts pressed against his back. He flinched. He felt them... the softness of my bosom nuzzling on the naked surface of his vertebral column.
I should have pulled out.
I should have.
But I didn’t.
A part of me was thrilled by the fact that I had that kind of an effect on him. It was very empowering... very exciting... very liberating... very scary...
Eventually, I realized what, exactly, I was really feeling.
It was arousal.
Snap out of it, Andrea! Now!
I reached further down, past his chest, towards his abdominal area. His abs were well-defined... something I once suspected when I saw how rigidly he carried himself and how delineated his body was whenever he wore a body-hugging shirt. At that moment, I was able to confirm it.
I mopped every inch of his tummy, savoring every bulge of his washboard gifts. Each was delectably hard and my fingers throbbed in delight with the slightest motion over his blessed gut.
Finn had abs, too... but they weren’t as ripped as his.
Snap out of it, Andrea! You shouldn’t compare!
I continued to clean his lower torso, reaching as far as I can, my bosom pressing against his nape just to extend my hands further down his body.
Then he turned his head towards his side... towards mine...
Our lips almost touched.
I could feel the warmth of his breath... he was panting...
I could hear his heartbeat racing... a sound which was made louder by my own heart pulsating with his...
I could almost taste the softness of his lips... his lips which were usually red and bright and very much kissable... his lips which remained ever so desirable despite how swollen and bloody they were that night...
He tipped his head towards me...
Our mouths were about to meet...
We were about to kiss...
But he stood up and grabbed his hoodie, leaving me on the bed in a hazy state... startled by how things turned out.
“I have to go,” he said as he put on his sweater. He was still wincing, still holding on to his ribs.
“Nash... you’re in no condition to go,” I said, pleading for him to stay. “Your wound needs bandaging.”
“It will dry up,” he answered without even turning to look at me.
He went straight towards my door and left my room. I heard his footsteps going down the stairs. I heard the main door open and close.
He was gone.
And I was still in bed, the strap of my nightgown falling to the side of my arm, my lace underwear dripping wet in anticipation of something that I thought would transpire, but didn’t.
I was still in bed, and I was left wondering... wondering...
What the fuck just happened?
4
When The Cat Is Away
When I arrived in school that morning, I was still in a daze.
I was in the middle of a throng of students making their way towards the entrance of the building. Some of them bumped into me inadvertently. Some of them patted my shoulder to greet me. Some of them said hi. I greeted them back in a mechanical manner. I wanted to be more sincere, but I couldn’t. My mind was elsewhere.
I couldn’t believe that I almost allowed myself to kiss him... and if I did manage to kiss him... I couldn’t believe how willing I was to surrender myself to him.
That was just... that was just so wrong!
I have a boyfriend. I pledged my heart, my body and my soul to Finn. I love him dearly and I wouldn’t... I shouldn’t... do anything that would hurt him.
And Nash is my stepbrother! The boy I grew up with. The man who’s supposed to be my sibling! Blood relations, or the absence thereof, be damned! A brother is a brother... and a brother should never be a lover.
The crowd thinned as I entered the hallway where the lockers were. I went to my compartment and grabbed the numerical lock. 08-27-14. The date when Finn and I started dating. The lock opened and I placed some of my books and my gym bag inside.
After I closed my locker, I saw Finn at the other end of the corridor. Joy rushed into my heart and I smiled.
Just as I was about to approach him, however, I noticed that he was talking to someone... a girl... tanned skin... nicely styled ponytail... tall... slender... big breasts... her miniskirt revealed her shapely, long legs...
Kyla. Kyla Sanders.
Shit!
I walked briskly towards them. They were talking so animatedly, laughing, touching each other’s arms...
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I tried to walk faste
r without bursting into a dash. I tried to reach him before that man-eater devoured my boyfriend completely.
They saw me, and their laughter ceased. Finn pretended to fix his varsity jacket as he looked away. Kyla flashed a dastardly wicked smile and began to walk towards me.
We met a few feet away from Finn, the bitch and I.
“Hello Andrea!” she greeted me with feigned glee. “See you later at practice, alright?”
I had to be polite, to show her that I was stronger... so much stronger... than how she perceived me to be. So I nodded at her.
Then she drew his face close to my ear.
“When the cat is away...” she whispered before proceeding to walk towards the other direction.
What did she mean by that?
What the fuck did she mean by that?
Finn walked towards me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey beautiful,” he greeted with a wide grin.
“Hey,” I replied sullenly, still thinking about what that slut said.
“Bad mood this morning, huh?” he asked.
“I was calling you last night, you weren’t answering.”
“Yeah, I saw your missed calls. Sorry, Hon. I was asleep and my phone was on silent.” He was frowning. Usually, that would’ve been enough to tell me that he genuinely felt bad about something. But seeing him talking with Kyla, and the words that she whispered to my ear, they were enough to cast some doubts about what the real score was.
“What were you two discussing?” I asked him.
“Us two?” He put on a confused face. He wanted me to know that his little get-together with the school’s resident whore was not a big deal... that he could’ve easily forgotten about it.
“Well, you can’t talk to yourself out loud, can you?” I sardonically replied. “What were you and Kyla talking about?”
“Oh,” he uttered, again pretending to be surprised that he forgot, “nothing, really. Just a few details about the Homecoming Party next month.”
Fair enough. That was actually believable. She was, after all, part of Jaynie’s Homecoming committee, and Finn... well... everyone was expecting him to be crowned Homecoming King this year.
“You didn’t seem like you were discussing the event,” I said with an exaggerated pout, fishing for further reassurance.
“Oh come on, Baby,” he answered as if on cue, “what else could we be discussing? Sex?”
He was the first to bring up the subject, and that gave me greater sense of relief.
“Possibly,” I told him, still maintaining petulant facade.
He chuckled.
“Andrea... I’m not interested in her,” he comfortingly replied. “I doubt I ever will be. My life is set. I have plans. With you. No one else.”
And I smiled.
I gave him a hug which he gladly returned. The tighter I squeezed him, the tighter he squeezed back. I took my time to smell his jacket... musky... pungent... manly... his unique scent... a fragrance I will never forget.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my mouth pressed against his chest, holding him still with the firmest of embraces. I apologized for assuming the worst instead of trusting him like I should have. Deep inside, I felt that I also apologized for what happened last night... rather... what almost happened last night which I vowed to myself will never ever happen again.
He gave the top of my head a gentle kiss. His lips lingered on my hair for a while. He was trying to catch my whiff... to remember it... a memento that he’ll carry with him during the long hours we’ll spend apart... until we’ll meet again after school, during his practice and mine.
“Besides,” he added, “it’s not as if Kyla is the sex expert you think her to be.”
I playfully punched his collarbone, pretending to be angry.
“How do you know that?” I asked with simulated fury.
“Because I’m pretty sure she’s not as good as you,” he answered. I looked up at him and saw that he was smiling quite wryly.
“Oh, shut up, Finn,” I told him, worried that someone might be eavesdropping on our conversation.
“It’s true!” he exclaimed, then his head approached my cheek. “Especially with that thing you do with your mouth...” he whispered.
“Huh?” I asked, bewildered.
“You know, that licking and sucking and stuff...” he continued to murmur. “I miss that, you know.”
Oh...
“Hush, Finn,” I told him affectionately. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Oh trust me,” he said, “with how good my girlfriend is with her mouth? I’m a mighty proud guy!”
Banters like that has always been a staple of our relationship. We playfully kid each other with exaggerations of our lovemaking skills and the extent of our desires. We discovered that it was a good way to overcome the awkwardness that came with the sexual aspect of our relationship.
Especially the awkwardness caused by my hesitance to make love to him.
We have our fair share of intimate moments... but it never led to actual intercourse. Every time we were at the peak of passion and at the verge of consummating our carnal needs, I always stopped him. He respected me. He never forced me to have sex - actual sex - with him. He kept on reassuring me that he loved me, and that he could wait. We have our entire life ahead of us, he never failed to remind me, a life we will be spending together... and there will be a lot of time of that kinky stuff.
It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that I have always been scared. I was scared about a lot of things... how it would be like to lose my innocence to him... how I’d perform given that I don’t know much about the finer points of lovemaking... how I’d be able to cope up if he suddenly discovers that I’m not really an ideal lover, that we’re not really compatible in bed... how it’ll be like if sex proves to be the peak of our relationship, and there was nothing else to look forward to...
Thinking about my concerns always made me sad, and consequently, they made me quite paranoid about going the distance with him.
But again, he always understood me and my worries. He never complained, not even once. And I loved him more because of that.
There were times when I felt his frustrations, however, though he tried his best to conceal his feelings. I adored him dearly, so I offered him the next best thing.
Would you settle for a blowjob, Baby?
“Well, you be a good boy,” I whispered back, “and maybe, you’d get a reward this weekend.”
“Oh you bet your sweet ass I’m gonna be a good boy,” he said before winking at me. “See you later at practice, alright?”
“Okay. Bye.”
He gave my lips a nice little smack before darting off this his classroom. I started to walk towards mine at the other direction.
As soon as the bell rang, the hours trudged. I kept looking at my watch, more than a dozen times per hour, hoping that the small hand would speed up and move to the next digit. I kept looking at the wall clock, as well... a subconscious effort, perhaps, of hoping that my watch was actually broken and that the clock displayed a much different time.
Calculus, Physics, Government Law, Basic Computer Programming... there came a point that I was interchanging those subjects in my head, mistaking one for the other. English Literature, at least, was refreshingly engaging. We discussed JD Salinger’s Catcher In The Rye, particularly the relationship between the main character, Holden, and his sister Phoebe. Theirs was supposed to be one of deep care and endearment - he didn’t want her to commit the same mistakes he did in his life - yet, the way JD Salinger described some of the scenes between them... it was life those siblings were having an affair.
Or maybe I was just reading too much into it, no thanks to my guilt that has hounded me the entire day?
Damn! Why did Ms. Launder have to choose that book for class... today of all days at that?
At four in the afternoon, the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the school day.
I packed my thin
gs, went to my locker, grabbed the bag I left earlier, and scurried towards the gym. I didn’t want to be late. Jaynie, regardless of how nice she was, didn’t tolerate tardiness amongst her cheerleaders. And Finn... my Finn... I wanted to see him again so bad.
I proceeded to the locker room to change into my uniform. Most of the girls finished ahead of me and they went ahead to assemble at the court. As I was bent over and tying my shoelaces, a familiar figure hovered over me.
