Dirty Little Freaks

by Jaden Wilkes

  “Oh, we’re getting there,” he tells me and grabs my wrist. He drags my hand behind my back and slides his fingers out of me. He grabs my other hand with his dripping wet fingers and drags it to line up with the first one, tight against my back. I’m helpless to fight; he’s got my face pressed into the pillow and my arms twisted.

  “You ok babe?” he asks, his voice soft with love and reverence. I feel like his beautiful babe, his precious partner in crime...not just a nasty fuck. It adds an entire new layer to our sex, the emotional aspect almost thickens the air as it thickens my voice.

  “I’m good,” I breathe, “I love this,” I say and he jerks my hands tighter. I gasp and wiggle, but can’t get away.

  He pulls back and helps me up, so my ass is in the air, my hands are still pinned behind me, and my face is still in the pillow. He rubs my thigh and slips his fingers up inside of me. He adjusts himself and I feel the head of his cock push against my entrance. He pulls his hand away and slides his length inside of me, excruciatingly slow. I try to buck my hips against him, forcing him in faster, but I am pinned and cannot move.

  “Hang on,” he breathes and pulls back, far enough that the ridge of his cock head is almost out. A half an inch farther, and he would fall out of me. I moan and wiggle against him, I want to be fucked hard, but this slow, sensual sex is something else. “Here we go,” he says, tightens his grip on my wrists and plunges into me. I cry out when he hits the end of me, I can feel my pussy tighten around him, as if trying to keep him inside. He repeats the slow withdrawal, and I can feel every cell in my cunt lighting on fire, the sensation of skin on skin makes my toes curl with delicious desire.

  “Fuck me harder,” I demand after a few repetitions of this. I am getting close to the edge of my orgasm, but I want him to crash into me and push me over. I want to fall with him, and I don’t know how we will get there at this rate. “I need you to pound me, to fuck me like you mean it,” I almost snarl my request. He lifts me up, releases my hands, and slams me down onto his cock. He wraps one arm around my waist, holding me against him, and grabs a handful of hair, pinning me tight.

  “I can’t do anything but fuck you, Jade,” he breathes into my ear, “there will be time to love you later.” He nibbles my neck at the tender spot he bit me before, and this is enough to tip me over. I scream my orgasm, saying his name, repeating it like a mantra that will guide me through this blinding light and bring me back safely to him. I feel him tense and his fingers get tangled in my hair, pinning my body against him as he thrusts upwards a couple more times, then groans and relaxes. I feel him flood my pussy, the warmth of his cum following his cock as it recedes, leaving a gush of fluids in its wake. The sharp tangy scent of our mixed sex wafts up to my nose and I’m fucking horny again. I’m exhausted, glowing in his love, freshly fucked, and my cunt juices make me want to fuck again. What the hell has gotten into me?

  His body sinks slowly and he sets me down on the bed underneath him. He rolls to his side and spoons me, running his hands along my body.

  “I can’t keep my fucking hands off you, babe,” he says with a small chuckle,

  “No protests here,” I smile and stretch languidly, like a cat. I twist around so I’m on my back, he lifts his leg and rests it on mine. We fall asleep like that, I feel safe in his arms, safe in his heart. It isn’t until I wake, hours later that I realize I didn’t need to pull the blanket over me to feel this way. I no longer need the world muffled. I no longer need to hide from it when I have Hush by my side.

  He’s been driving me fucking nuts all morning. He defends his dissertation at three in the afternoon and it’s only eleven. If I have to keep watching him pace back and forth and mumble under his breath, only to pause and yell, “No, fuck, no, that’s not it,” one more time, I’m going to scream.

  I woke him up with a celebratory blowie, he ended up riding my chest with his balls on my chin, fucking my face...he shot his spunk all over my tits and he’s still wound up tighter than a nun in a whorehouse on a Sunday. I wonder if anal would relax him. I also wonder if I’m the world’s best or world’s worst girlfriend, always solving his problems with sex. I’m sure the show of hands would be divided mostly based on gender.

  Maybe I could work something about my love of sex into my own research one day, but make it all wordy and smart sounding of course. I’ll have to write it down later and check it out. Right now I have to stop him from sending me over the edge with this nervous energy.

  “You wanna do a bump of coke or something?” I ask, only half joking. “Maybe that will help you present.”

  He looks at me like he’s considering it, “I can’t do that...can I?” He thinks on it and continues, “Fuck, no, I can’t. I can’t see my father when I’m high. Waste of good drugs.” He grins and comes to sit next to me on the couch.

  I put my feet up on his lap and say, “Um, shit, did you say your dad’s gonna be there?” I gulp and wiggle my feet at him. Maybe a good foot massage will calm him down. I love how I’m always thinking of him.

  He starts rubbing, starting with my toes, just how I like it. “I thought I mentioned that,” he says, looking at me to see my reaction.

  “You might have,” I say, but I don’t think he did. I would have remembered if he did. Unless I was drunk. Or high. Or fucking. Yeah, so he probably did tell me.

  “Does that bother you?” he asks, still working on my feet, “I mean, meeting my family?”

  “Your family? As in all of them?” I say, trying to keep the nerves from my voice. His family? This excites me on one level; it makes it seem legit, like Hush really does want to bring me into the light of day. On the other hand, it’s fucking terrifying. I know his family is rich, and I know his father is a difficult man, that’s about all I know.

  “My father, my mother, and my younger brother, Richard,” he says, rubbing the heel of my left foot now.

  “You never told me you have a younger brother,” I say. “You’ve never told me much about them at all.”

  He stops rubbing and looks at me, his eyes narrow and he obviously chooses his words carefully when he says, “Picture every terrible stereotype you can think of about a wealthy family, and you’ve got it. Overbearing father with a string of mistresses, alcoholic mother who checked out of reality years ago, and the spoilt idiotic younger brother who can’t do anything wrong according to my parents.” He runs his hand up my leg and settles on my thigh. I think it’s a comfort thing for him, touching me is his security blanket. I love that we need each other; we found each other.

  “Are you gonna be ok with me meeting them?” I ask shyly, “Are you worried what they’ll think of me?”

  “God no,” he reaches over and pulls me up onto his lap. “My God, no, I don’t care what they think of you, I love you and that’s all that matters. Don’t you ever worry about anybody else, Jade, the world can go fuck itself if it doesn’t approve of me being fucking crazy ass in love with you.” He kisses me and all my little nagging fears and worries are washed away by his words and lips. I feel my walls being chipped away every time he tells me he loves me, every time he tells me things like this. I know eventually I will be completely open to him, and I love him for that. I love him because he is getting to know me, and he accepts every last little bit of me with no question. He loves me for who I am, not for what I can give him or do for him. I think he feels the same from me, but it’s true. I couldn’t care less if he had a penny in the bank or a million dollars to spend. I love him, plain and simple.

  He pulls back and looks at his watch, “Shit, I need to go ahead and set up. You’ll be there, right? Promise me you’ll be there. This is all for you, babe.”

  “Of course I will, I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I reassure him and watch him run around picking up pieces of clothing here and there. I lounge on the couch and watch him dress; his muscles ripple as he shrugs into a white dress shirt. I can see the outline of his tats through the fabric as he does up the buttons. H
e pulls a dress coat over top and stops for a moment. “Aren’t you missing something?” I say, smiling.

  “What?” he asks, and laughs as I point at his naked legs. “Ah, yes, pants would definitely help.” He drags them up his long, thick legs and all his tats are covered, he looks almost normal, except for his green hair, pulled back still. I want him to spike it again soon, I don’t know what it is, but I want to fuck every time I see that mohawk heading my way.

  I get up, adjust my long tee shirt and stand on tippy toe to kiss him. “I’d wish you good luck, but you don’t need it,” I tell him. He squeezes me tight, takes a huge breath and exhales slowly.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says. “I’m so glad you followed me into the bathroom that night.”

  “Ha, yeah, we’re going to have to come up with a better story to tell the grandkids,” I laugh.

  “Fuck that,” he looks at me, “I want them all to know how dead sexy their gramma was, in her knee high boots and long green hair. I want the world to know how fucking sexy you are.”

  “You might change your mind when you’re old and grey, my friend,” I giggle, “and need a handful of Viagra to get it up.”

  He squeezes my ass and I feel him harden against my hip. “Who needs pills when I’ve got this?” he asks and kisses my neck.

  “Ok, if you don’t go, I’m going to drag you into the bedroom and demand a fuck, and if I demand a fuck, then you’ll be late…”I say, rubbing his cock through his dress pants. “And if you’re late, I’ll never be able to call you doctor.”

  He lets go of my ass and laughs. “Ok, you’ve got a point...but you’re not going to dump me if you can’t call me doctor, are you?”

  “Get out of here!” I mock yell, and wave him out the door, “of course I wouldn’t, but you know you’ll do fine. I’ll be calling you doctor before the day is over.”

  The lecture theatre is buzzing, there are more people here than I anticipated. I settle down at the front, where Hush wanted me. I look around but don’t see anyone I think is his family. A few minutes later I text him “Where r u?” and hear him laugh. I stand up and he’s behind me with an older, impeccably groomed version of himself, minus the green hair of course, a woman who looks like a walking Barbie doll, and a douchey looking frat boy. This must be the family. I clear my throat and say, “Hey.”

  “Jade, this is my father, Nicolas, my mother Sylvie, and my brother, Richard,” he says, beaming his excitement.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say in my best impression of a socialite. Eva and I have watched enough Real Housewives for me to know something about the lifestyle. I kick myself for always turning down her parent’s requests to join them at the golf club. I could have actually learned something, fucking insecurities.

  “Charmed,” his mother says and offers me her limp hand. I don’t know if I should kiss it, or shake it, or what...so I panic and fist bump her. She looks startled, but his brother holds his hand up and says, “Duuuuuuude,” with a grin on his face. I fist bump him as well and relax a little, at least frat boy douche bag little bro is down with me.

  “Jade?” his father asks, his voice dripping with disgust, “Is that your real name, or am I to assume it’s a...stage name?” Fuck, his dad thinks I’m a stripper. Gross. But hey, he thinks I’m hot enough to be a stripper, that’s kinda cool.

  “It’s a nickname,” I tell him, “Jack is my real name.”

  “Jack?” he says, sounding even more disgusted if that’s possible. “Is that a family name?”

  I think of all the times I rolled my mother onto her stomach so she wouldn’t puke and asphyxiate herself in the night. All the times I removed a burning cigarette from her hand so she wouldn't start a fire on whatever flammable bedspread she was on at the time. I think of all the nights I poured her booze down the sink, hoping she’d stop drinking if we couldn’t afford it any more...but of course she’d always buy more, she’d forgo food or shoes for me, but she always had money for her Jack Daniels. I look Hush’s dad right in his arrogant goat eye and say, “Yes, it’s a family name,” with pride. Fuck him for seeing me as nothing more than something stuck on the bottom of his shoe, nothing more than the whore in his son’s life, nothing more than the reason his son humiliated the family by breaking off the engagement of the year. Fuck him. I reach out and grab Hush’s hand and add, “Aren’t you so proud of him? And all he’s accomplished?”

  He squeezes my hand back and pulls me against him. In front of the three of them he gives me a deep kiss, lots of tongue action and smacking and obvious heat. Fuck them, he’s mine now.

  “How do you feel?” I ask him as he shows us our seats at the front.

  “Nervous, but good,” he smiles, “I can’t wait to do this.”

  His advisor and defense committee seat themselves and indicate for him to start. He gets up, flashes one last smile in my direction and walks to the podium. He looks good, shit, he looks fucking hot, and I can’t believe he’s mine. I feel like jumping up and running to every person in there, pointing my finger in their face and yelling, “He’s mine, fuckers.” My chest swells with pride. He’s sexy, smart, dirty and fucking talented, the whole nine yards, and he’s mine. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve him, but I need to keep on doing it.

  He clears his throat and taps the mic, “Is this thing on?” he asks and the audience titters their laughter.

  “Good afternoon,” he starts and introduces his thesis topic. The audience seems enraptured by him, and I can see the members of his committee scribbling notes as he talks.

  “So, let’s get to the good stuff,” he says after he finishes his introduction. He pauses and adjusts his notes. “You know what? Fuck this shit,” he suddenly says, looking at me. He tosses his notes on the floor and turns to the slide projector. A photo appears overhead, it’s one of me from when we first got together. In it I’m naked, but covered by a sheet. I remember the day he took in on his phone, we had been laughing and fucking for hours, I look radiant, better than I think I ever have. Sex is good for me. My head is thrown back, my neck looks long and elegant, and my tattoos look brilliant, the colour brighter than real life. I’m embarrassed though, and can feel everyone’s eyes on me, especially his father’s. It’s one thing to fuck Hush on stage in front of screaming fans; to be called out in front of people in the middle of the day is nerve wracking.

  “I’m sorry Jade, I didn’t put this up here to humiliate you,” Hush says into the mic, “but I have to say this. I love you. I’ve loved you from that first night you cornered me in the bathroom at the Roxy. Fuck, I probably loved you from the first time I picked you up, saved you from that chick,” he laughs and I smile. I glance at his family and his parents look pissed. His little brother is laughing though and gives me the thumbs up.

  “I love you, and I know you love me, and that should be it, right? It should be that simple...but it’s not. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, I want to wake up with you and watch you sleep...you are so fucking adorable when you sleep,” he grins. “It doesn’t feel that easy because my family are a bunch of assholes,” he continues. “All I’ve ever wanted is to play the guitar, to thrash on stage and make music, but my father wouldn’t allow that to happen, not to any son of his. This,” he says and gestures to the theatre, “is not what I wanted, ever. I’m sorry Doctor Anderson and my thesis committee, for wasting your time. But the truth is I only took on this research so I could follow my real dream, to play. I never got permission,” he says and the crowd gasps. I hear his father mutter under his breath and he glares at me. “I did my field research with no permission, I did not conduct myself in an ethical fashion, therefore my last year of work is null and void.”

  Silence greets him; none of us know what to say. I can see his advisor, must be Doctor Anderson, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. The rest of the committee look angry, Hush looks relieved. I smile, that’s all I want, is for him to be happy, none
of these people matter to us.

  “Jade, I treated you horribly and I still can’t believe you took me back after I ran,” he continues, “but I thank you for that. I looked at this picture every day, every hour after I left you...before I found you again...and I knew then that I was a fucking fool for leaving you. You told me once if I had to ask how to prove my love to you, then I didn’t love you. I’ve thought about it ever since. I’ve decided that I can’t prove that I love you beyond giving my heart to you,” he says. I swear I hear a few girls in the audience sigh; he is pretty fucking dreamy. I smile at him, fight the tears starting to well up in my eyes, and he goes on, “I can’t live without you Jade, I tried, but I failed. I failed at being away from you, and I don’t think I could survive if you left me at this point…but I don’t know how to prove my love to you. I could throw myself onto the jagged rocks at Spanish Banks, or I could tattoo your name over every inch of my body, but in the end you have to believe me...I love you. In the end you have to trust me, to trust us, and maybe after fifty years together when we’re lying in bed talking about our creaking joints and the weather, then you’ll have your proof. Until then, you just have me.” As he speaks I can envision us together forever, holding hands when we’re old and grey, still laughing about that fucking bathroom at the Roxy, and my heart does an old time pitter patter, flip flop. He doesn’t need to prove his love to me…he just did.

  He looks at me with a smile on his face, clicks off the overhead projector and the screen goes back to white. He steps out from behind the podium and walks towards me. I stand up and go to meet him, his arms are wide and I fall into them, laughing and red faced at the hundreds of eyes on us. His father stands as if to intervene, to get between us, but thinks better of it when he realizes everyone is watching us, waiting to see what happens.

  “You are nuts,” I say and bury my face in his chest, “What do you think you’re doing?”