This Modern Love

by Ray Hecht

“Wow,” she finally said. “I, that is, I think… I think I have to go.”

  “Don’t go.”

  “I’m so busy.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I think I have to go,” she repeated, pouting girlishly. She didn’t move. She licked her teeth. “I have better things to do.”

  “This is the best thing you could be doing in the whole wide world.”

  “Really?”

  “I promise.” Jack raised his hands to undo the bra strap from beneath the rippling cloth.

  “It’s just that I deserve to be treated better.” Her heartbeat quickened.

  “I’ll treat you so right, baby.”

  Her breasts free and spilling out, he cupped the left one and flicked at her hardening nipple.

  “I have to ask. What was up with that?”

  “Oh, that dumb girl? No big deal.”

  “I’m so curious.”

  Jack kissed her, from the earlobe down to the part where neck meets bone.

  “Baby, I know we just met,” he began. “But I have a feeling that we have some kind of a powerful connection. I want to share something intimate with you.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Not that I’m into monogamy or anything.”

  “Of course.”

  “Exactly. Come on babe, in this day and age?”

  “So?” she asked.

  He bit her, quiet little nibbles along her shoulder. More moaning. “So me and her have an open relationship.”

  “I see.”

  “But honestly she’s been so bitchy lately.”

  “You poor guy.”

  “And when I went outside…”

  “Yes?”

  “I was simply suggesting a fun activity. With the three of us.”

  “Is that right?”

  “It woulda been a nice surprise, all I’m sayin.”

  “I’m so flattered.”

  “I’m very empathetic, y’know. I can feel something very sensual, deep within you.” He put his palm over her sweaty cleavage, and felt her rapid heart. “I know what girls like you are into.”

  “You tell me what I’m into,” she said, the words barely coming out.

  “You are into whatever it takes to get my cock hard,” he declared. “Sharing me. Watching me fuck and get fucked. Me watching you eating pussy. Delicious, soft, juicy pussy lips. All spongey and gooey. The taste. You know what I’m talking about, baby.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said, pulling her hair so tight that the scalp itched. “I want to see this beautiful body,” he felt her up and down from head to hips, “naked and sliding along another beautiful body.”

  “Wow. Just wow.”

  “Sucking at my hard cock. Hard, because of you. For you.”

  “Mmmm…”

  “Share and share alike.”

  “Mmmmmm!”

  “What you want is to do what it takes to make me cum. That’s what you want. That’s what makes you wet. You’ll do whatever it takes. You want to fuck another girl and you want me to like it, and then you want me to cum.”

  “Ohhhh…”

  “It’s so fucking hot. I’m so fucking hot for you right now. Feel me. You are so fucking hot I cannot take it.”

  Jack was indeed hard. While continuing to narrate his lesbian fantasies, he was just about to unzip his pants and whip it out and show it to her and beg for a blowjob. He adjusted himself in the seat to ready the zipper.

  “You can really talk,” she said, interrupting his motions and slowly crawling atop him. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “This had better be good,” and with that she pounced right on him.

  In truth, she knew she needed it. She had worn her cutest cotton panties, she was lonely, and she needed something. It was planned long before the drama, and she was not one to change plans. The circumstances weren’t ideal, but sometimes a girl must take what she can get.

  She was all over him. Jack’s backside lay on the small sofa, which hardly held enough room for two full bodies. She made out with him furiously.

  His nose was searing in pain.

  She cupped him by the ears and slobbered into his mouth, his upper lip tasting of coppery blood. Her thighs struggled to fit on both sides of his crotch. But there wasn’t room.

  When they fell off and rolled on the unvacuumed carpet, almost hitting the aluminum legs of the coffee table, both burst into laughter. Without even asking if the other was okay, they continued. Currently with plenty of space to maneuver, Jack peeled away layers of cloth and brazier, revealing round drooping breasts and dark red nipples. He licked at them from the bottom up, one by one, and they were hard as chipped plastic pens.

  Electricity shot through her nervous system. Her skin felt the infinite prickling of tiny supercharged electrodes. Every touch a higher voltage.

  She snatched his hands away from her breast and pulled them between her legs. Jack felt the warmth, turning to burning heat, and he dug under her panties.

  Finally, she freed his penis from the cruel cage of designer boxer-briefs.

  Jack felt an incredible relief. The air was cool and refreshing on his tight skin.

  He kissed her again, and felt the blunt pain in the center of his face, from brow to the end of his chin. He shrank away, minutely. She returned kisses with gusto.

  “Let’s get up.”

  They stood up, pants at ankles, and waddled to his room. “I didn’t give you the house tour, baby.”

  “Oh, right. House tour, definitely.” She threw the remains of her dangling bra to the hallway. Her panties, clinging to the knees, were soaked.

  “My bedroom.” They entered the dark room and Jack decided against apologizing for the mess, and slammed the door behind him before she had a chance to process the hallway light. In the darkness he pushed her to the mattress, face-down.

  “This is my bed.”

  “Nice.”

  “Take a good look.”

  He bent down and slid her wet bottoms past her toes, tickling all the way down. She became fully naked. Then he shook out of the remains of his pants and enjoyed the nudity. A few tugs kept him hard, and he pressed his bent legs between the backs of her knees, spreading open.

  His stiff cock bounced between the cheeks of her fat ass, round and greyed in the shade. He let himself go and allowed gravity to fell his torso atop her back. He bit her ear. He squeezed her wrists. He humped her with his stiff member, and in response her ass curved upwards and rubbed him back and forth, straining at damp skin.

  “Oh my fucking god,” she said.

  Jack licked his index finger and placed it between her legs, brushing up against the anus, then feeling up her shaved slit.

  “You like this, don’t you? Dirty girl.”

  As he entered he felt a thick, slippery, natural lubrication soak his fingers up to the knuckle. She moaned louder and louder. With his thumb, he found the general vicinity of the clitoral hood and rubbed counter-clockwise at a soft, regular pace.

  Her insides were spongy and bubbly. He flipped her over for easier access, and made a bending motion to massage her G-spot area. Two fingers. Then three fingers. He flicked at her anus with his pinky.

  Her toes curled and her arms raised over his mattress. She spread open like a pentagram. Jacks sat atop in evil worship, and used his free hand to masturbate himself. He wasn’t going to get any harder, and he removed his hand and put it to the base of his shaft.

  Just as the pulsating head blew against her opening—

  “STOP!”

  Jack was taken aback.

  “Get a condom,” she said.

  “Of course. No problem. Got it right here.”

  The atmosphere slightly dampened, and Jack hopped to the drawer with the rubbers, bouncing all the way.

  He used his teeth to rip open a thin sheath of Spartan brand mega-thins. Rolled it right down.

  He had run out of words. He didn
’t even try anymore. His brain was focused. A goal lied ahead. First step, to roll next to her and place her hand to his crotch. She squeezed, relented, spit on her hand. Then she squeezed him some more, and touched herself, then scratched at his balls.

  He enjoyed that part very much, and was almost sorry when she stopped. But the hint was taken. The next phase was not to be a hand job. He rolled over her and his weight pressed down, and readied the position.

  At last. He entered. She shrieked, and grabbed his ass and pushed him in deep. They continued missionary for several minutes, with her moaning and moaning, and at first it felt great and then Jack got bored.

  “Turn around,” he growled. “Get on all fours.”

  “Whatever you say. Big strong man.” She complied, sticking her ass in the air.

  Jack stood up on the edge of his bed, naked feet cold on hardwood floor, and pounded away. He balanced himself on top, slapped her butt, and watched the view of his cock entering and receding and entering and receding. Her breasts drooped. Her stomach shook and waved like so many plastic bags in the wind.

  What’s my number now? he wondered. Doing some math in his head, he remembered his last count some weeks back: 35. There were two Minnderrr girls in the first week of the month. Then one the following weekend. He’d have to consult his X spreadsheet file to be sure. If he hadn’t lost count, it seemed she was number 39. That made one shy of 40. On the way to 50. Which is halfway to a hundred. Would he truly be able to keep this up all the way to three-digit numbers?

  All these thoughts of numbers did little to distract from the pleasure he was feeling. It would all be over soon. Knowing that, Jack changed positions for the last time. “Lie on your side,” he said, and she did. He carried on from behind, but lying down comfortably. He looked at her backside and held each breast and imagined the last porno he watched—with the facials and auburn MILFs, and he felt it coming.

  The center of all universal energy. Building and building. A crescendo approaching. A pop, a burst.

  Seconds of spreading intensity, all feeling smashed together in an explosion of sensation. The vibration pumped up from his core, spiraling out, buzzing beneath each skin particle.

  A blue light enveloped.

  Clarity, in pale and empty darkness.

  He closed his eyes and fell away into the hollow blue void of the world.

  All memories ceased. All thought vanished. A still, quiet rest replaced the whole of desire and sensation.

  The pale blue light.

  The shuddered silence.

  Stillness.

  Peace.

  That perfect, empty feeling.

  * * *

  Consciousness returned to Jack Davidson, and with it came intense regret. The post-orgasm air of remorse always returned, each time stronger than before, as the bliss of the blue light dissipated. Before he knew it, he was back in bed with a stranger, self-consciously nude and reeking of smelly perspiration. He was struck with a need to push her out of the bed and hide under the blanket—now crumpled on the floor—hoping to sleep and never wake up. Instead, he went through the motions and cuddled.

  “That was so good.”

  He removed his rubbery penis from her, and rested.

  She moaned some more, sang, meowed, the last time with closure. They both shifted positions and leaned up against the bannister, propped up on several pillows and tucked in sheets. Jack ripped off the condom and held it up for a moment and looked. It was heavy with his own semen. He tossed it on the floor.

  Just when he was ready to nap, she got up. “Excuse me for a second,” she said. “Do you have a towel?”

  “Hanging on the door. You see? There.”

  She wrapped herself up and exited, no doubt on her way to the bathroom.

  Jack stared at the ceiling, fingers wrapped behind his wet head, and thought of various methods to get rid of her.

  He heard flushing and then she returned. The door shut behind and she melted in next to him. Her powerful thigh on his soaked crotch. Her hand playing with chest hairs.

  “I can’t wait to do that again,” she said. Not that she would say it out loud, but in fact she did not climax. She was close.

  He would never ever outright ask a woman if she had an orgasm.

  “Are you sleepy?”

  “Baby, I’m just recharging,” he lied.

  A thought came to her. “Oh, weren’t we going to watch a movie?” she asked.

  “Movie. Yeah. That. Sure.”

  They didn’t move.

  “But, you know, it’s so late. Maybe next time. Something for us to look forward to.”

  “It is late.”

  “Yeah, shit, so late. So I guess I’ll have to drop you off soon. Let’s have a rest, but we’ll have to get going eventually.”

  “Oh.” She hid her disappointment. “Okay.”

  “Next time,” he repeated. “No big deal.”

  “Fine!” she said. “I get it. No big deal.”

  She aggressively kissed his face in an act of finality, of closure, of surrender, and his pain returned.

  An hour later they had already showered and he was driving her to the off-campus apartments all the way to the neighboring county. It was late, the roads were empty, and it was further than he thought it would be.

  She kissed him goodbye, and he endured the pain in silence. He hoped they would never kiss again.

  It was a slow drive home.

  They texted eight more times over the course of the following month. Each message briefer than the last, before their connection evaporated away into the etheric vacuum. Jack wrote down her screenname on his list, cherished the memory of their one night together, utilizing it for masturbation purposes a few times, and promptly moved on.

  Meanwhile, she went on to meet three more men via Minnderrr dates. The next one was unfavorable compared to Jack, and did not get any that evening. The second was a one-night stand that turned into a two-night stand, but after an argument over money they too stopped seeing each other. After that she had an extended period of loneliness and self-loathing. She took yet another chance again on dating, at the recommendation of a friend. The third man wasn’t attractive, but he was kind. He waited until the fourth date to invite her over to his place, and she found herself moved to his kindness. They forged a deep connection and became a long-term couple, and eventually moved in together. It was the first time either of them had lived with a member of the opposite sex. Though nothing lasts forever, they supported each other in their mutual careers and creative pursuits, and she became an accomplished graphic designer. Her life was sad sometimes, but not most times, and for about a year it was not uncommon to feel a sense of contentment.

  She rarely thought of her previous exploits. All the while, she never deleted her Minnderrr profile. A girl’s got to keep her options open.

  She and Jack never crossed paths again.

  6

  Andrea

  Andrea awoke to the sounds of snoring and the smell of middle-aged stink. Surprisingly, she was okay with that. No nightmares.

  The sex was mediocre at best. Weren’t older, married men supposed to be more experienced? At least better than the immature twenty/thirty-somethings who usually picked up her up? She recalled a few decent nights with mature men. Ultimately, however, she never was one to be pleased by the fatherly archetype, though past experience had shown she enjoyed their money and the comfortable feeling of security.

  She had since discovered something about herself by this point: Fifty was a good cutoff.

  The middle-aged man’s body was pale, skin ashy, with clumps of white hair along the back. His belly was round and soft and his legs were thin like hollow rods. He smelled like an old library. His penis was in fact large, but his erection wouldn’t stay stiff for longer than a handful of minutes. His technique consisted of ripping Andrea’s dress off, sucking at her nipples for seconds at a time, and then climbing on top of her for a quick session of dismal thumping.

  S
he simply lied on her back and let him do the work. After he complained of a bad back, he rolled over and motioned her head southwards. She knew the drill. He threw away the condom, complained, and she played with his bare, naked skin. She blew, scratched, drenched with saliva, and put it in her mouth. She sucked deeply and breathed through her nose and made circling motions with her tongue, while lips went up and down the shaft and nails squeezed at the base. He came easily from that, as she knew he would. She got the session over with fast. He grunted, shot out, and she spit out the ejaculate onto the motel’s cheap shag carpeting.

  He passed out minutes later. At last, Andrea felt some pride of a job well done.

  He slept on his side, and she maneuvered her way into his arms. She wasn’t horny, but she felt eminently content to be nude and have someone holding her. That skin-to-skin warmth.

  The motel room wasn’t as nice as imagined it would be, but they did have a small selection of alcohol and chocolates in the refrigerator. It wasn’t quite the dark sweet selection to be paired European wines, but it did help her relax.

  Oddly, sitting here with a stranger after a disappointing bout, she felt much better. It had been a meandering day. The man she ended up with wasn’t perfect, but at least he chose her. That felt good. She felt stable, grounded. Out of her funk.

  Although the sun was long since set, she was finally ready to seize the day.

  She coughed, and the man awoke.

  “Hello there, darling.”

  Shhhhh…

  “Wake up.”

  “Quiet,” he whispered.

  She shifted positions and grabbed his cock. “Are you ready? That was fun. And I want to go again. Come on, man. This is going to be a glorious time. We’ll stay in bed all week, fucking and fucking. Forget about the world for days on end. Come out into the light next week… There’s no hurry. You can take care of me… Wouldn’t that be hot? You turn me on so much, we’d go at it and at it. You can do it. Be a man.”

  “I want to sleep,” he said, and mumbled something about filing reports and being late again. Then he let loose another tuft of gaseous bile.

  “Oh God,” Andrea said. “I need a smoke.”

  * * *