by KT Morrison
“Too bad you're wearing underwear,” she said coyly.
“You'd like that, huh?”
“I like to win,” she said, her eyes staying on the shape of his manhood under the briefs. Her nipples had swollen and she hadn't realized it at first but now she was aware of their tightness as they dragged under the fabric. She could see the swell of his semi-arousal, could see the pouch created in the fabric from the large size of his testicles. She looked away.
“This is it, Margaret,” he said.
They played and he won. “Shit,” she said. Unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall off her shoulders, used her hands to cover herself even though she was wearing a bra. His eyes went over her as she sat back down. Her heart thumped in her chest.
“Stop looking at me,” she said, and he laughed. Then he won the next goddamn game. He was getting a handle on Kitana’s techniques.
“Let's see em, Maggie,” he laughed.
“You're such a little kid,” she said, mad. A real anger was coming up in her. An arousal too, but maybe the anger was arriving to do battle with the feelings she shouldn't have. Maybe the anger was at herself for being aroused by this.
She folded her arms up behind her and it thrust her chest in his direction. She shook her head at the eager look on his face and chastised him with her eyes. He didn't look away.
“That's a beautiful bra, Margaret,” he said.
“Thanks.” She looked down, saw her small but perky breasts filling out the peach tulle of her bra. It had fancy scalloped trim, a bow in the center and a bow where each strap connected to the cup. She heard the snap give and let the straps slide down her shoulders. Cole's eyes remained focused on her breasts, wanting to see them revealed.
“You pervert,” she said and covered herself up as the bra fell to the floor. She pressed a forearm across her chest and threw her bra near her shoes. Cole watched anyway, his smile arrogant, his eyes unwavering, watching for her arm to accidentally reveal her nipples. His cock was erect. She could see it, the fat swollen head of it pushing up a knot against the fabric of his briefs. It went on an angle towards his hip, the wide belly of it scored by the Y trim of the underwear's opening. It had pushed the shorts’ fabric higher than the waistband, the stretched cotton ball of his glans touching his belly.
“Who's the pervert now, Margaret?”
“What?” she laughed. “I was just thinking how it's going to be hilarious to see you run up and down the halls with that giant boner.”
“You wouldn't give me a minute to let it go down?”
“On its own?”
“Yeah,” he said. She had visions of Jay convincing her the only way his erection would go down was if she jerked it off. She knew better, but it was fun to get caught up in his game.
“No. I’d make you run like that. Serves you right for making me play your dumb game.”
“Maybe if you were a better player, Maggie, you wouldn't be naked and then I wouldn't be hard.”
“Here,” she said, a glum raising of her eyebrows as she took her hands away and revealed her erect nipples. She sat down and raised her arms with the controller to cover his view of them. “Let's just play, please.”
“You worried?”
“You can't get in my head, Cole. We’re both down to our undies, but I swear you’ll be streaking.”
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice full of bravado.
Their last fight was a long match. A lot of back and forth, a lot of flips to stay out of his range. She blocked like never before. She slipped and flipped. She worked up a real live sweat. She had Kitana backed up, her stupid Japanese forearms held up to protect herself, but she was relentless and Cole had no opportunity to launch a counter-attack without leaving Kitana open to a devastating split-punch to her little crotch.
Then, no idea how, she got rocked with somersault kicks and a bunch of lightning fast one-twos and Johnny Cage was fazed.
“Shit, no, oh no, no, no, no,” she yelled, almost at the top of her lungs. Then Cole's Kitana slid up to her dazed player and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. “Fuck, no,” she whispered. Johnny inflated like an inner tube, his eyes bulged, his mouth hosed blood, then she saw an animated x-ray of his skull expanding and then splitting from his flesh and exploding all over the screen.
“In your face, Margaret,” Cole said quietly while the music soared. “Flawless victory, my dear.”
“Fucking bullshit,” she whispered. She wanted to slam the controller down but thought of poor Satinder.
He turned to her, swinging his legs around so he fully faced her. “I'm going to need those panties, Margaret,” he said.
She looked at him past the corner of her eyes.
“I know,” she said. She stood, kept her side to him, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and she shimmied them down her thighs, and when they got to her knees she let them drop. She flicked them at him with her pointed toes.
They hit his chin and he caught them in his grip before they fell to his lap. He said, “You're not a sore loser, are you, Margaret?”
She looked purposefully at the the erection straining his underwear and she smiled and said, “No, but I think I’m going to be.”
4
Vaseline
Wednesday, October 4th
Maggie knew she shouldn’t be doing this. Knew she should never have agreed to play strip Mortal Kombat in the first place. She’d rationalized that it was fun and carefree and the truth was it wasn’t. Now she was climbing onto Cole’s bed and he was going to put his erection in her anus. And she could rationalize again, and say it was as Cole had said—for the greater good, and that it wasn’t sex—but there was nothing about this that was right.
That was the excitement, though, wasn’t it? That was why she was crawling over his duvet without a stitch of clothing. Just like she did with Jay, she was going to boil her frog one burner increment at a time, turning up the heat tick by tick until she’d boiled that sucker. Maybe it made her a bad person but she still wasn’t going to get out of the bed and put her clothes on, head back to her dorm and do some studying. That would be the right thing. She was going to rationalize it all away.
“A bet’s a bet, Maggie,” Cole said behind her with good humor as she walked across his narrow bed on her hands and knees. She didn’t look back, and didn’t want to think of what he was seeing from his angle. Hoped she looked good like this.
She lay on her back with her knees drawn up and held together, feet flat on his bed. Bunched his duvet around her, but didn’t cover herself. Cole came to bed, his briefs poked out by his hefty hardness. He was lit by the table lamp next to the bed, Satinder’s lamp by his desk, and the TV behind him. He put a knee on the bed and her body jostled with his arrival. Then he was slipping in next to her. It was friendly and it was sexual all at once. Her heart was drumming away double-time.
He lay on his side next to her, his head propped in his hand, elbow dug into the mattress. Laying like they were side by side on a beach somewhere, not alone in his dorm room about to do something dirty because she lost a bet.
“Hey,” he said, “I liked meeting your friends this weekend.” His hand pulled up the duvet a little higher then it was working underneath at pulling his briefs down.
“Did you?”
“Yeah. I didn’t know much about you...I mean, you know, your parents or where you came from.”
“I don’t talk about it much.”
His hand emerged from under the covers and he held his white briefs, spun it like he was learning to rope, then flung them over to the chair where his book bag sat. They slapped the wall then dropped silently to the floor.
“Well, it was interesting,” he said. “I’ve known you so long and I loved to see, you know, where young Maggie came from. ...Turn over.”
“How?” she asked him.
“On your side, face the wall,” he said.
There were only two pillows, so she took the one she was using and bunched it up into a tig
ht ball, slipped it under her ear as she turned to her side, putting her back to Cole. She drew her knees up.
“That’s good,” he said. He was moving around behind her, shaking the bed. The drawer was drawn open, a squeaky scraping sound. Something was removed and she heard a hollow high note, like a metal tin being pulled, accompanied by the sound of suction.
“What are you doing?” she asked him.
“Vaseline,” he said.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I mean, I just...I guess...realized that while I knew you so well, there was so much more...” His hand moved along her rump, the dry top surface of his knuckles searching her crack, finding it, then parting her. Then his finger stroked around her anus and she felt the warm thick paste being spread. “...So much more to know. How long have we been friends?”
His finger tickled and circled her little bud and she started to squirm. “Uhh...well, exactly as long as Max, I guess. I met you two the same night. Four years?”
“Four school years,” he said.
“Right.”
“You haven’t been with Max for four years. You’ve been a couple for two years.”
“Almost three. Our third anniversary is December...”
“Easy,” he said as warning, one hand on her waist now. His finger slid gently inside her. Her thigh muscles flexed and she scrunched her toes. “Yeah, so, you and me? ...Three years?”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, her scalp tingling as he carefully stroked his finger in and out of her.
“We’ve had such a good time here. You ever worry that it’s almost over?”
“A-all the time...”
“That feel okay?”
“Yeah.”
“I worry too.” He rolled then and she could tell he was on his back. He thrust the covers down and she could hear sticky Vaseline crackling, knew he was stroking his cock. She listened but she didn’t turn to look. He rolled away and she heard him bumping and rummaging through the drawer. He returned to her and she felt his warmth near her back, felt his hot sticky cock press along the soft curve of her rump. It slipped against her skin as he reached above her head.
He said, “Not so much worry, I guess...put your arms up, grab the headboard...more like I’m, you know, stabbed with a real...profound sadness.”
“Uh-huh,” she said and she lifted her hands up towards the headboard, nodded her head forward til her ears were past her arms. Felt the finials of the headboard and her fingers wrapped around one, gripped it. She looked down, saw her nipples condense and stretch.
“Yeah, I don’t want it to be over.”
“Me neither,” she said. He was wrapping fabric around her wrists. It was comfortable, satiny, and he wove it between her wrists and around them, then around the finial. She didn’t stop him. Her heart beat even faster.
“I’m off to Harvard after the summer. I’ll be in Cambridge. You and Max...who knows? ...NYC?”
“Maybe.”
“You guys will be married. You’ll have your new lives. Maybe I’ll visit, but it would be so easy for it to just...dissipate. You know?”
“I don’t think it will,” she said.
“That’s why I really enjoyed being at your home.” His lips pressed on her bare shoulder, sucked lightly but so briefly on her. Her eyes closed and her pulse increased. “It made me feel so close to you.”
Then the head of his cock pressed against her tight aperture. She could picture it behind her closed eyes. That large corpulent shape with its ridges and its foreskin, mashing into her, pushing until the weakness of her opening gave way to him and he was swallowed.
“Oh God,” she sighed.
He pressed harder and her anus stretched against his intrusion. He was thick and hard and she felt that size spread her tight hole wide. It sunk into her slowly, the Vaseline easing its passage. Once she’d accepted his glans the rest of him brought no more pain. Now it just felt like a swollen lump being passed into her guts.
Cole continued, “I worry that we’ll grow apart... How’s that?”
“I’m good,” she gasped, then grunted.
“You know... I worry that we’ll just move on and our time here will be a funny memory.”
“Ah...ah-huh...”
“You okay?”
She sucked her lips into her mouth and pressed them between her teeth, hummed, Mmm-hmmm, let them plop out, said, “Yeah, I’m okay. You’re big.”
“Shh-sh, it’s okay. This is what I mean. Just be casual. Don’t fight it, Maggie. Want me to stop here?”
“Yeah,” she said.
He let it sit inside her, didn’t go deeper. His hand rested on her naked hip. He said, “All this time I’ve known you I never considered you weren’t always this fun, happy carefree girl.”
“No...high school...was hard...” she said. Her tummy bunched and she pulled her elbows toward her hips but his binding tightened. She flexed her tummy harder, felt his hardness slipping against her insides, her flexing making her colon muscles clamp tighter on him.
“That feels good. You doing that on purpose?”
“Does it...feel good?” she said.
“Fuck yes. It feels really good. You still okay?”
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“Want me to go a little deeper?”
“Sure.”
Then he was sliding again and she felt her sphincter stretch wider, felt the knot of his head grinding through her membranes inside her. It was different now. The pain was gone, reduced to discomfort, and her heart raced at the thought of how awful it was what she was doing. Her eyes roamed his room, what she could see of it. The bare wall dead ahead, a poster down past her bare feet that read on the top “God is Dead,” -Nietzsche, 1883 and below that, “Nietzsche is dead,” -God, 1900. She could see his books and bag and crumpled clothes on an upholstered chair with arms, sitting by the door like a guard. Her folded sweater rested on top.
This was so wrong, so bad, and that made it all the more exciting. This was her best friend. Four years—no, three—she’d known him. In all that time they had never been sexual. Not even remotely. His charm was apparent and undeniable. But here she was now and she was familiar with his cock. His most secret thing he had. She shared it with him. She’d sucked it, been fucked by it, now it was up her ass. But it wasn’t as dirty as it might seem. There was a sweetness to it. A friendliness, like he understood her desire for exploration and he was sharing his knowledge with her. As though she’d told him she wanted to go to Venice and he took her and kindly showed her all the sights because he’d been before. It felt kind of...nice.
And it was that paradox that made the dirtiness grander. Not in scale, but in a sense, scope. Looking back from afar and seeing what she was doing in the context of her friendship with Cole and Cole’s friendship with Max this was so lascivious. And so...sexy. Her thighs started to squirm. Now she was seeing what he meant about relaxing. She wasn’t fighting it now. Now she was digging it. She could feel a wetness rising in her. Feel her arousal begin to come to the surface of her skin inside and out.
“That’s what I mean about your friends,” he said as though he was unaware of the transformation happening to her. “Like, I know you weren’t close, but—”
She gasped, “They weren’t...my friends. They were just...kids I did my...homework with. My mom doesn’t...get that.”
He was quiet a moment and she felt his eyes on her. He said, “Am I your friend?”
“Yeah,” she said, more wistfully than she intended. Her head twisted between her arms, pulled back, turned so she could see his face in her periphery. “A real friend.”
Her eyes were on his lips as they settled against the curve of her shoulder and kissed her gently. “I’m glad,” he said.
“You knew that.”
“Yeah, doesn’t mean I don’t like to hear it.”
Her eyes darted over his. He looked up to where her wrists were bound. His hand came to her neck and he rubbed her. “Too tight? You okay?”
“Yeah...”
“Your head is turned to me... Your neck sore?”
“No... I like to look at you.”
“I can fuck your ass face to face.”
“You can?”
“Sure. Between your legs, you put your knees up high, under my arms, I could fuck your ass and we could kiss too.”
“Oh my God,” she sighed breathily, her eyes closing and her pulse racing.
“You want me to do it from the front?”
In a struggling moment of clarity she managed to croak, “We better not. We...shouldn’t do that...”
He watched her face a moment, said, “How does it feel now?”
“Good,” she told him, her head still pointed over her shoulder at him. “It doesn’t hurt. Max and I haven’t had anal sex, really. We...started just last week. I like it, but...”
“I’m bigger than Max?”
“You are. You’re really thick. You feel good, you know...in the front.”
His features scrunched in stupefied humor. “The front? Your pussy?”
She laughed, turned and pushed her face through her arms again, hiding her face from him in the pillow. “That’s what I meant,” she laughed into the cotton.
“Shy Maggie. You’re so fucking cute,” he said and she felt his warm lips kissing her shoulder again, working a little higher up her collar and further tightening her nipples.
She peeked back and he kissed her lips. She let him, her lips parting for him, but they stayed unanimated. Then she kissed his cheek, down to the cleft in his chin, but she broke away, said, “I don’t think we should kiss when he’s not around.”
He smiled. “Just have anal, right?”
“No. Not that. I lost a bet. This isn’t sex.”
“One more,” he said and he kissed her again and she still couldn’t refuse. Thankfully he didn’t try again.
