Hoodie

by S. Walden

  He moved his hand down the side of her neck to rest lightly on her breast. It was a question, and she answered by pushing herself against his hand, inviting him. He wasted no time going up her shirt, fumbling with the clasp of her bra until it came undone in sweet success. He fought to control himself as his hand pushed under her bra to rove over her soft breasts, feeling her shake slightly, kissing her harder even as he willed himself to slow down.

  He wanted to take his time with her, but he couldn’t. He felt the mixture of power and shame at his unchecked sexual excitement. He should stop. It’s only been a week and a half, he thought. We’ve only just kissed. He knew he should send her home even as his hand left her breasts to touch her in between her legs.

  She gasped but did not resist. His fingers moved her panties aside and stroked her softly. They slipped in and out of her tenderly, and she heard herself moaning into his mouth, fighting the rising climax. It hovered dangerously close to the edge.

  “You have to stop,” she said into his mouth.

  “Are you crazy?”

  He continued his exploration with more urgency knowing what it was doing to her, knowing she wouldn’t last long. She was charged from the moment she walked through the door, and he knew his decision was the right one. A kiss wasn’t enough. She needed release.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  She tried to get up, but he held her firmly on his lap with his left arm around her waist. She could do nothing but wrap her arms around his neck and bury her face in his shoulder. She felt her hips moving against his hand, his fingers stroking her in a hip hop rhythm.

  Her climax came violently, and she was powerless against it. All of the heavenly bodies burst, exploding in her stomach and rushing like white waters through her legs. She held onto him, saying his name over and over as the rapids coursed through her, slamming against her bones, obliterating them. He turned her to liquid. She cried out tasting the tears at the corners of her mouth. She could not control them. They flowed freely and abundantly, and she pushed her face harder against his shoulder trying to hide. She shook hard, sobbing, and he wrapped his arms around her firmly, pressing her to him, stroking her back.

  “How do you do this to me?” she cried softly into his shoulder.

  He did not answer but continued to stroke her back.

  Her shaking eventually subsided, but she was too afraid to look at him. She wanted to die like this: her face buried in the muscles of his shoulder. But he gently pulled her away forcing her to look at his face. She was flushed and beautiful, her eyes glassy and transparent, her hair cascading around her face in lovely, untamed curls. He smiled at her sweetly, and she returned her own.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” she said.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because I’m crying and I don’t know why. Why am I crying?” She wiped at her face and looked at him waiting for an answer.

  “I don’t know why girls do what they do,” he said. He didn’t even try, and it made her laugh.

  “Me neither,” she said.

  She was still breathing heavily, and he watched the slow rise and fall of the tops of her breasts. He wanted to touch them again. He wanted her naked in his bed. But it was late. He knew it couldn’t be tonight.

  “You betta go home,” he said reluctantly. “I don’t want you gettin’ in trouble.”

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  “We got time,” he said. “We got all kinds of time. Why rush it?” He thought the question absurd. He had just gone from kissing her for the first time to touching her intimately within the span of fifteen minutes.

  “But I’m the only one—”

  “What? Who got off?” he asked.

  “You put that so eloquently,” she replied.

  “You think I didn’t get anything outta this?” he asked. “I got to touch all over yo’ pretty body. You don’t even know how long I been waitin’ to do that. Never thought I’d get the chance.”

  She placed her hands over her face in embarrassment, but he peeled them away. He raised his eyebrows at her in a question, and she giggled.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get mine,” he said. The statement sent a shiver down her spine. He felt it and tightened his arm around her waist even as he knew he should let her go. He just couldn’t. He wanted to keep saying things to her that made her nervous. He liked the way her body responded to it, and he wanted to keep affecting her.

  “I don’t want to go,” she said softly.

  “You wanna get in trouble with yo’ parents?”

  “No,” she said.

  She stood up too fast and stumbled to the side. He caught her and helped her regain her balance.

  “Man, I ain’t never did that to a girl before,” he said. “Cryin’, shakin’, fallin’ all over the place. I really got you.”

  She rolled her eyes wishing he’d stop staring at her as she situated her clothing.

  “I really got you,” he repeated more thoughtfully, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her close to him. He pressed his face against her stomach and kissed it. He looked up at her then, his large amber eyes searching her face, and she was sure that if she didn’t pull away at that moment she would melt into him.

  “I have to go,” she said, gently releasing him.

  “Then you betta go.”

  She let herself out.

  CHAPTER 12

  WEDNESDAY, APRIL 28

  Emma checked the bag once more, but she knew everything was there. She had made a list—a sex list, she thought, grinning like the Cheshire cat. She checked it a dozen times for something to do while she waited for his call. They chose this night because he wasn’t working and his mother was at the hospital. The call came, and she tried to sound casual when she answered. She sensed that he was doing the same thing. His mother had left for work, he said, and she could come over whenever she liked. She took it to mean that he wanted her to come over that instant, and she wasted no time. She hung up, grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder, and checked herself in the mirror before leaving. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. She wondered if she would still look the same tomorrow.

  ***

  He led her to his room without a word. She could tell that he was nervous, and she didn’t know how to calm him. She was nervous herself. When he opened the door, she saw the candlelight. She looked at him, and he shrugged.

  “You think I’m corny,” he said.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “I think you’re sweet.”

  She placed her bag on the desk chair and sat down on his bed. There were three lit candles on his desk emitting a low, soft glow. She wondered where he got them.

  He sat down beside her placing his large hands on his knees. Suddenly, he was too afraid to touch her. How had it been so easy the other day?

  “I’m just going to say it,” she said. “I’m a virgin.”

  He didn’t reply at first. He let the information sink in. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t prepared for it. She looked like one. She dressed like one. But from the other day, he thought, she didn’t act like one.

  “I understand if you don’t want to,” she said quietly.

  “So am I,” he said softly.

  “What?”

  “I said so am I,” he repeated, still not looking at her.

  “You’re lying,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice and relaxed some.

  “I ain’t lyin’, okay? You gonna give me shit for bein’ a virgin?” he asked.

  “No, not at all. I love that you’re a virgin,” she said. “I’m surprised that you’re a virgin. You don’t act like you’re a virgin.”

  “Can you stop sayin’ ‘virgin’?” he asked. “Man, this hard enough as it is. I don’t even know what my problem is. Why don’t you come back through that door like you did the other day? You come in here lookin’ all sweet and saintly. Where’s that girl come in here the other day wanna jump my bones?”

  She took his hand in hers.
>
  “So like I said, I’m a virgin.”

  “We established that,” he said.

  She took a deep breath. “This is so embarrassing.”

  “What’s embarrassin’?”

  She made herself look at his face when she said it.

  “I might bleed. I mean, I’ll probably bleed.”

  He said nothing. She started to feel anxious.

  “So I brought a towel. I didn’t want to mess up your sheets.”

  He thought for a moment before responding. “I know all that,” he said. “You don’t gotta worry about that.”

  “Does it make you uncomfortable?” she asked quietly.

  He shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t sure. He suddenly felt a great weight of responsibility for what he was about to do and wondered for a moment if he was ready for it. He looked at her, searching her face for any sign that she felt the same weight—the weight of taking something from someone that can never be given back.

  “We don’t have to do this,” she whispered. She needed reassurance.

  “I want to,” he replied determined. “If you let me, I want to. You crazy if you think I don’t want to.”

  They sat in silence for a time, holding hands, waiting for the other person to make a move.

  “I know I clown around and all,” he said. “But this is important to me. If we do this, it ain’t just ‘cause we two horny teenagers. And I’m sorry if that’s too heavy for you, but it’s how I feel. If we do this, you a part of me. You mine.”

  He watched her closely but could not read her. He thought that perhaps he scared her. He didn’t mean to.

  “I want to be yours,” she said, and she kissed him softly on the lips.

  It took great effort to control himself. She was so sweet and yielding. He wanted to tear her apart. But he didn’t. He removed her clothing slowly then laid her gently on his bed. He removed his own clothing quickly, and moved on top of her.

  She let him look at her though it made her feel uneasy, exposed. He made a sound from deep within his throat, and she knew he was fighting hard to restrain himself. He kissed her again.

  “Wait, the towel,” she said into his mouth.

  “Fuck the towel,” he replied, and kissed her lips harder.

  There were other things in the bag, she thought absurdly. What did she bring? Why did she bring those things? Was she doing it right? She felt stiff and anxious.

  “Okay, you gotta relax,” he said. “You stiff as a board. It ain’t like you not fool around before. Why you actin’ like you never been kissed even?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, looking in the direction of her bag. “I don’t know what my problem is. I put all of these things in my bag specifically for this, and I can’t remember. I can’t remember what’s in my bag.” Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and she was sure she was having an anxiety attack.

  He placed a hand on either side of her face, gently forcing her to look at him.

  “Emma, we don’t need nothin’ from yo’ bag. Okay? I gotta condom, a’ight?”

  “You’re going to use a condom?” she asked.

  His eyes went wide with shock. “Emma, do you know where babies come from?”

  “Oh stop it!” she said, pushing him off of her and sitting up in the bed. She pulled her knees to her chest hugging her legs.

  He sat up, too, leaning against the wall. Her back was to him, and he wondered what she was thinking. He was beginning to think that this was a mistake. Nothing about it seemed easy, though he was unsure why he thought it would be.

  “I meant that I’m on birth control,” she said.

  “Oh,” he replied. He was so confused. “Why you on birth control if you don’t have sex?”

  “Birth control is used for many things,” she said patiently.

  “So why you use it?” he asked.

  She turned around to face him, sitting Indian style, completely exposed to him. He liked what he saw.

  “Well, since you want to know. I take it to regulate my period. And no, I’m not going to explain that to you,” she said when she saw his mouth open to ask a question. He closed it and smiled.

  “I can’t help I ax a lotta questions. I just wanna know everything about you,” he said.

  “You want to know about my menstrual cycle?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Okay, maybe not that,” he said laughing. “I just can’t figure you out. Did you come over here thinkin’ we wasn’t gonna use protection?”

  “No,” she said. “I brought condoms. But once you said you were a virgin, I figured what’s the point?”

  He was bewildered. “Look, I ain’t even tryin’ to get a girl pregnant at eighteen.”

  “And I’m not trying to sound irresponsible. But facts are facts. If I’ve never done it, and you’ve never done it, then we obviously don’t have any STD’s. And if I’m on birth control, then I won’t get pregnant.”

  “That shit ain’t a hundred percent, though,” he pointed out.

  “And condoms are?” she asked.

  He thought for a moment. “Well, no, but maybe the birth control and condoms together are.”

  She smiled at that.

  “Why you not want me to wear a condom?” he asked.

  “Oh my God, nevermind. Wear the fucking condom. It’s not about the condom,” she said.

  He looked at her. She was biting her nails.

  “I know it don’t feel the same,” he said. “I mean, I ain’t ever had sex, but I know it don’t feel the same.”

  “I just want you to get as much pleasure out of it as I will,” she said quietly. She stopped biting her nails and traced circles on the bed sheets with her forefinger.

  “You the strangest girl I ever met,” he said. “Come ‘ere.”

  She was no longer tense and anxious. She relaxed during their conversation, allowing his eyes to rove over her nakedness while they talked.

  She moved on top of him, straddling his hips, and let her body sink down onto him slowly.

  “Oh my God,” he whispered, and she laughed.

  “You’re not even inside of me yet,” she pointed out.

  “Hush. Don’t say a word. Just lemme take all this in.” He drew in his breath slowly, moving his hands down the sides of her face to her shoulders and finally her breasts. She sighed softly as he played with them.

  “You have the most perfect breasts,” he said. “But you prolly knew that, huh?”

  She kissed him quite hard suddenly, and he wasted no time laying her down on the bed once more. He began his tender assault, kissing her everywhere. He kissed her lips and cheeks, her neck and breasts. He let his mouth and tongue taste her all over. She stiffened when he licked her hip, moving his tongue down her thigh. He wanted to, he was dying to, but he wasn’t sure. Instead, he let his fingers do what he wanted his mouth to. He stroked her while he kissed her mouth, feeling her relax and submit to his touch.

  His fingers were clumsy putting on the condom, and he cursed his awkwardness. Before she knew it, he was between her legs, poised and ready. He just needed her to signal that it was alright. She tentatively touched him, guiding him into her, and he thought he would come right then at the feel of her hand. He was determined to be slow and controlled. He didn’t want to hurt her; he thought vaguely of remembering someone telling him that it hurt girls the first time. Did she know that? She must know that, he thought.

  He pushed slowly, hearing the sharp intake of her breath.

  “You okay?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  He pushed farther in, feeling her body blocking him, fighting him. She was so tight, and it took every ounce of his strength not to take her hard and fast. He was starting to feel trapped within his own physical needs, wanting to please himself, wanting to hear her scream, he thought shamefully. He couldn’t make sense of his desire to at once forcefully possess her and yet be gentle to her.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just do it.”
r />   She barely got the words out. He drove into her completely, hearing her cry quietly, ignoring it as he found a gentle rhythm. She wrapped her legs around him, her thighs tight against his hips, and he was certain that she was wishing for it all to be over soon. Why did it have to hurt her? Why couldn’t she feel what he was feeling? It was ecstasy. He was consumed with it, no longer caring to be gentle. He tried, but he couldn’t. I’m just eighteen, he thought. I can’t be perfect. And he thrust into her harder.

  He felt her fingernails on his back. He wished desperately that she would remove them. They only made him want to take her harder. But she didn’t remove them. She raked his back with them, fueling within him a desire so intense he was sure he would wound her beyond repair.

  It did not take long. He came into her hard, his body drenched with the sweat of physical exertion and mental havoc. He wanted to collapse on her, but he knew he would crush her. And it was selfish, he thought. He had already taken so much. He felt ashamed at his own inability to be gentler with her. He rolled off of her and took her in his arms, cradling her head against his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?” she asked. She sounded genuinely confused.

  “For bein’ so rough.” He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “It started feeling good towards the end.”

  He was surprised.

  “It did?” he asked.

  “Mmhmm,” she said lazily.

  “Why you not say anything?” he asked incredulously.

  “Didn’t you feel my fingernails in your back?” she asked.

  He wasn’t sure what to say.

  “That’s supposed to let me know you enjoyin’ it? God, I thought I was rippin’ you apart!”

  She had no reply. She simply nuzzled closer to him, feeling his heartbeat slow until she thought it was back to normal.

  “You okay with everything?” he asked tentatively.