by Gabi Moore
“Play with yourself,” he said.
My hand went between my legs again and I easily found that electrical spot again, that delicious thrill buzzing in my clit and sending waves of bliss all through my body.
“Make yourself come for me,” he said, and as he did, he tilted his hips a little towards me. I lapped my tongue around his length and heard him growl in response. I teased my pussy till I felt close to coming, closer and closer to the edge. The closer I got, the more I fancied his dick reaching deep into me, so deep it shot right through my entire body, penetrating all of me and somehow responsible for the gorgeous ecstasy brewing from below, curling my toes, shooting up through my legs and radiating out from my hips.
He moaned, bent at the knees, pleasuring himself in my mouth, stroking aside the damp hair from my temples.
“Are you going to come for me?” he muttered.
Oh God, did I want to come for him. I pressed hard against my clit, squeezing out a throb of pleasure there that instantly exploded and sent big, delicious shudders all up my body, all along my spine. When I moaned, the sound wasn’t from my throat, but from somewhere much, much deeper. From way down inside me, I cried out with his dick still in my mouth, my throat involuntarily clenching and tightening around him.
“Oh fuck,” he cried.
His stomach muscles hardened and pulsed as he exploded onto my tongue, his cum emptying out into my mouth. I loved the noises he made when he came. Half whimper, half growl. That ragged, desperate little cry right at the moment of surrender. I was almost sad when he gently pulled out of my mouth and stood there for a moment, dazed.
“You’re fucking amazing,” he said, and idly traced the sticky white tip of his dick on my lower lip.
I kissed him. “No you’re amazing,” I said and giggled.
“No, you. You’re the amazing one,” he I insisted and pounced onto the bed beside me. I beamed.
“Shut up, you are.”
He grabbed me by the hips and pulled me right up close to him, gave me a smoldering look and then diving in for a passionate kiss. I wanted him again. The memory of orgasm was fading fast and in its place came that same wild ache again. I wouldn’t be satisfied until he fucked me. Hard.
“Now, tell me again, what was it you wanted?” he said slyly, between kisses.
“I wanted you to…” I traced my fingertips down his sweat-slick chest and down towards his navel and even lower down to the patch of fuzz growing underneath it, “…to fuck me,” I said playfully.
I got up onto my hands and knees and waggled my hips for him. He didn’t need any further encouragement. He split open the folds of my drenched body and slid into me easily. We both paused for a moment, savoring how delicious it felt, how perfect to be cradled in one another’s bodies like this, how neat and tight the fit, how warm, how wet.
His hands wrapped tightly round my waist; he drew himself up and gazed down at me. I threw my hips back against him, daring him to do his worst. Though I was a fancy up and coming director these days, and though I spent all day telling stage hands what to do and when …in the bedroom, it was all Adam.
He still knew all my secrets. All the strange little trapdoors and quicksands of my heart, knew my nightmares, my dreams, how I liked to be touched. Still Adam who looked me in the eyes and told me to spread my legs. Adam who told me to calm down, to just shut up and kiss him. Adam who knew what I needed. And Adam, the only one who could give it to me…
When we were finished, we sprawled out together on the bed, exhausted and sweaty and messy-haired. And grinning. He leaned over for a kiss and got up.
“Don’t you go anywhere,” he said and disappeared off to the bathroom. I smiled and blew him a kiss and then collapsed down on the bed again, cooling off, the buzz in my head slowly quieting down.
I sat up cross-legged on the bed and listened to the silence in the house, quiet now that little Nelly was gone for a while. I got up and went to the window, and gazed out. Though it was dark, the moon illuminated a few scraps of slow clouds moving across the sky.
I felt like I watched them forever. And then, all of a sudden, I saw them both. I saw all three of us sitting around the kitchen table making Christmas crafts. Cutting links of paper and gluing them together to make garlands for the tree. My father’s smiling face as he showed me how to line them up carefully, and even though my fingers were too stubby and I was impatient, I tried anyway, again and again, till we had a long chain that I proudly hung over the tree. I was probably only a few years older than Nelly was now.
I felt cold. I quickly wiped the moisture from my eyes. I heard Adam clattering in the bathroom and whistling under his breath, but something about the moonlight took me away for a moment, far away from our little house and everything in it. Eventually a cloud went over the moon and dulled the light. I was snapped from my reverie. I closed the curtain again and stepped back inside the room.
And then I saw it.
A stain.
At first I thought I was seeing things, but no, there it was. Clear as day, a white splatter sitting right in the center of the bed, looking defiantly back at me. If I were writing a play, a play about a young girl who finds herself and learns to love her talents, I certainly wouldn’t have used this as a recurrent motif.
Cum stains on a sheet certainly wasn’t a symbol with a hell of a lot of romance in it. I was still staring when Adam came out of the bathroom.
“Oops! Looks like we made a mess,” he said as he followed my eyes and caught sight of the wet patch. “Looks kind of interesting, doesn’t it?” he said, pulling the blanket straight and looking at it.
“Like a Jackson Pollock painting,” I said absentmindedly.
His slightly disgusted face turned happy and he smiled.
“Oh yeah, you’re right. That’s what I like about you Nyx. You always know how to see the beauty in everything, even the dirty things,” he said and leaned in for a kiss.
I smiled.
“Get dressed,” he said. “If you’re quick we can still catch that pancake truck before it closes for the night.”
I didn’t need to be told twice.
- THE END -
Whatever It Takes
Blurb
She’s still as beautiful as I remember, but she hates my guts... and I don’t blame her.
But now I have a chance to do what’s right…
And I will.
Whatever it takes…
Chapter 1- Emily
February 3, 2077
He was going to be a space jockey, and I was going to save the planet.
Boys had been telling me all my short life that they loved my eyes, loved how intelligent I was, how pretty …but Felix was the only one who truly understood what really made me look up from my books and pay attention. He had said to me: “we’ll make history together, baby, just you wait and see,” and I had laughed at the time but admittedly, in hindsight, he wasn’t exactly wrong.
Let me start from the beginning.
Felix Stone was too tall, too loud, and had too much energy. But in weird ways that were hard to pinpoint, he was also completely adorable. He had the bright, wide blue eyes of a kitten, but biceps that always made you a little nervous he’d knock something over in the middle of one of his impassioned explanations of exactly how the auxiliary thrusters on the new D series airships worked, or why he thought cosmologists were full of shit.
Felix was the boy who’d get worked up explaining some new concept he learnt in his aeronautics course, complete with the salt and pepper shakers standing in for different planets, or a napkin held in his broad hands to show what happened when space curved. He was a little crazy. He was the kid who had scraped though the math and physics modules by averaging a semester of hangovers with an impromptu term paper that impressed even the most cynical professor, and had them eating out of his hand.
Like I said, adorable.
But let me explain something – he might have been adorable, sure, but I was no idiot. I k
new I was a conquest for him, plain and simple. He liked a bit of a challenge, and …well, let’s just say that I could make Galois theory look like a cake walk.
He had pursued me in that goofy, clumsy way of his all summer. And all summer I had pursued my studies.
I didn’t care much about the new space program or that he was enrolled on it. As far as I was concerned, we had no business expanding the Mars colony until we fixed up the mess we already had on Earth. I didn’t care about the mass emigrations, or about the outbreaks at the new settlement sites, or about the few superstar pilots that came back, pretending they were in their own sci-fi movies and gloating about expanding the frontiers of science. To be honest, the frontiers I was interested in were …smaller. Subtler.
One day, Felix had cottoned onto the idea that I’d be thrilled to take a peek at the new colloidoponics lab on the west campus, and he had wrangled a special pass for us to visit the facilities, probably by smiling and flirting with the project head. Of course, I agreed – I’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity – but quietly decided ahead of time that he would not be ‘getting lucky’ that evening, and while he slowly figured that out, I’d be soaking up all the interesting things they were doing at the lab.
“Hey, Em,” he said, “what would you say if I gave you some cheesy line about the stars and your eyes right now?”
It was a few hours past sundown, and some faint droplets of dew were forming on the isolation tanks. The wide, cold night sky lay distant and lonely above us and all the colloidal tanks and cells were lined up, powered down for the evening.
I lay my hand over the reinforced plastic and felt the chill run through me. Forget about the glory of shooting around the solar system in rockets …if Earth had any chance of survival, it was in here, in these quiet, humble wombs of the future. We had torn through the resources our planet had gifted us. Now, we could only rely on this new, truly renewable energy source: ideas.
I couldn’t explain the feeling of awe and peace I felt when I thought these thoughts. I only knew that our global crisis wouldn’t be solved by more narcissistic men with more narcissistic plans. It wouldn’t be solved by big ships and clunky spacesuits inspired from violent video games. It would be solved like this… by the small seedlings growing as if by miracle in a life-giving jelly crafted by scientists who were as good as alchemists. Zero-input farming might not have seemed radical to the boys on the space program, but to see these little maize hybrid plants burst out from their seeds seemed to me like much more than a giant leap for mankind.
I turned to look at him.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I said, my hand still on the tube.
“Forget it,” he laughed, and blustered off, looking at the rest of the outdoor cell system.
It’s not that he wasn’t hot. In fact, he was annoyingly good looking. So happy and carefree you’d swear he didn’t have an early tutorial the next morning or a coveted scholarship with the space program to work for.
“That’s the immersion tank! Ooh, I remember reading about this!” I said and raced over to look at the equipment he was now in front of.
“Hey Em?’
“Yeah?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a serious nerd,” he lauged.
“Whether that’s true or not, do you know what you’re even looking at here?”
“Some mangy weeds in a glass container?”
I laughed again, and peered inside.
“No, you big idiot. This might be nothing less than humanity’s last hope. Without these weeds we’d be really fucked.”
“I love it when you talk dirty, Emily,” he said, his breath fogging the glass up as he pressed his face to the surface alongside mine.
I couldn’t help but giggle. I turned to look at him directly. Though I had had all semester practicing my sharp one-liners on him, at that moment my tongue was tied and I could think of nothing biting to say to his sweet, playful face and the way he lifted one naughty eyebrow at me.
“Can we just be honest for a second, Felix?” I said, and tried to put on my best serious face. “You know I’m not looking for …anything right now, right? With my course load I just don’t have time for a boyfriend or anything and--”
“Woah whoa woah,” he said and lifted his hands out in defense.
“Miss Emily Warren, are you trying to suggest…?” He hoisted his naughty eyebrow even further up and hammed up looking positively shocked.
“Oh my goodness, have you lured me out here to … to …seduce me?” he said in a silly voice, and covered his mouth with his hands. I giggled and slapped him.
“Be serious Felix!”
“Oh I’m deadly serious,” he said, shaking his head. “Here I came out to see these …these …amazing weeds in all earnest and now I found out you’re just planning to take advantage of me?” he said, eyes twinkling in the semi-darkness.
I tried not to, but I couldn’t help but laughing.
“You big idiot. How did you ever convince them to let you see the facilities, anyway?”
“Easy, my boyish good looks and winsome charm,” he said and leant in close. “I don’t know why it never seems to work on you though,” he added, more quietly this time. With his face just a few inches from mine, I could make out faint swirls of his breath going cold and white in the night air. He smelt good. Not like soap or cologne or washing detergent or anything like that. He smelt like skin. Warm, soft skin that was suddenly the only thing I could think about.
I cleared my throat.
“I’m sorry I’m such a hard ass all the time,” I said, trying to squirm my gaze somewhere other than directly at his beautiful blue eyes. His voice was suddenly deep and serious.
“Are you kidding? You’re not a hard ass. You’re smart. You’re the smartest person I know. That’s why I like you.”
I suddenly became aware of his lips. Of the heat of the words as they left him. It was getting cold out here, but it was beginning to feel so easy to lean in closer to him, to where it was so warm. Damn, he smelt good.
Too good.
I pulled away and tried to clear my head.
“Felix, I …please don’t take this the wrong way, you know I like you too but…”
“Just kiss me,” he breathed.
I could hear myself swallow.
“And then what?” I asked. The bright green of the seedlings inside the gel tanks blinked out through the foggy glass at me. It was an easy question, and had an even easier answer: then I’d fall in love with him, and then he’d leave me, and then I’d be heartbroken, and what would be the point of any of that?
It might be fun for some people to prance around college hooking up and treating one another like temporary entertainment, but I didn’t want to start something unless I knew it was real. That it would last. Human beings had wrecked everything with their consumerist greed, their throwaway attitudes, their desire to use and discard… I wouldn’t be like that. Unless it was sustainable, unless it was permanent, I wasn’t interested.
“What do you mean then what? Then you kiss me …again,” he said and flashed me a mischievous grin. I sighed and made my way to the exit. This was pointless.
“Hey Em, please, don’t go.”
I spun around and tried to hide how irritated I must have seemed.
“What will it take for you to trust me?” he asked.
I was taken aback. This was Felix, the class clown, the eternal jokester, being sincere for once. And even more crazy was that I didn’t have an answer for him. What was I going to tell him? That the ice-princess-good-girl spiel was just a convenience, and that deep down, it’s not that I didn’t want what a life would him would involve, but rather I was afraid of just how much I’d want it, and how vulnerable that would make me.
“It’s not about trust, Felix, it’s about …values. For me sex is not something cheap and meaningless. Sex is about love.” This last word I almost whispered. It was the final taboo among my peers. The only remaining, hi
deously old-fashioned idea that deserved universal scorn. Wasn’t I a scientist? A rational, liberated woman? Didn’t I want to take charge of my sexuality, and relish it, and be a free and sexual agent? Well, fuck, I don’t know. I just knew that without that unspeakable L-word in place, the prospect of ‘sexual liberation’ simply left me cold.
And since it was more or less forbidden to say, “it’s all or nothing for me”, I toned it down to my usual objection: “I guess I’ll just go for nothing, then”. This at least painted me as a relatively harmless bitch or a prude and not the far worse option: a damn romantic.
He was walking slowly towards me now, and I felt unable to unglue my feet from the ground and continue flouncing out the door with indignation.
“But I agree with you,” he said.
“You’re just saying that,” I spat.
“Come on, Em. Seriously. Not to be rude, but if I was only after some cheap fling, well, you wouldn’t exactly be my first choice,” he said, the beginnings of that naughty smile appearing again.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
‘Well, either I’m a sucker for punishment, or I actually like hanging out with, have you considered that?”
“I’ve told you I can’t …I’m not ready for--”
“Hey, Em, I get it. Seriously. I’m not going to pretend that kissing you tonight wouldn’t make me the happiest guy in the world. I won’t say I haven’t been daydreaming about it since Monday, and praying like an idiot you’d want to, and, I don’t know, god forbid, that maybe you’d even like it …but I want you to understand, kiss me or not, I’m not going anywhere. If all we ever get to do together is look at these fucking plants and shit, well, I’ll consider myself a fortunate man.”
It was the most impassioned I had ever seen him. Felix never spoke like this, especially not to me. The smile was gone, and in its place was a certain stubborn tightness around the jaw. I instantly wanted his face close to mine again.
“Felix, I’m sorry…”
“For what? You have principles. That’s what makes you awesome.” He had pulled his jacket more tightly around him and was making for the door.
