Extra Credit: A Dirty & Diverse Novella

by Zaida Polanco

  “Oh,” she says.

  “That’s right, baby girl, oh is right.” I take a swipe at her dripping center before dipping my tongue all the way in, lapping up her essence like a man deprived of everything. And in a way it’s true, I’ve been deprived of her, so I’ve only been half living for god knows how long. But she’s here now. And I never want to let her go.

  Lina

  My body is practically boneless after Ben spent all morning worshipping it and making me come at least 5 times. After all of that, we devour the long-forgotten breakfast he prepared for us.

  I’m sitting in my professor’s bed, naked as the day I was born, munching on toast with jam with a sheet loosely draped around my boobs. Ben keeps reaching over and yanking the sheet down and at a certain point, I give up trying to fight it.

  “Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks, setting his coffee mug down and planting a light kiss on my shoulder.

  I shake my head. “Nothing exciting. I do need to work on my grad school applications though.”

  His eyes light up. “You’re applying to grad school? I didn’t know that! For what programs?”

  I hesitate a bit, pulling the sheet up over me. I don’t know why I feel awkward right now but I do.

  “Okay, so don’t laugh at me, but I’m applying to some social work programs. I want to eventually be a social worker for high schoolers. My top choice right now is the Social Service Administration program at the University of Chicago.”

  “Oh wow, that’s a great school! I know you’ll get in for sure,” he says. His blinding confidence in me is cute but not necessarily warranted. Getting into that program is crazy difficult.

  “But, baby,” he continues, “why would I laugh at that? You made me promise not to laugh but how could I ever laugh at something you want to do? Especially something so important?”

  I shrug, not meeting his gaze. I don’t feel like getting into this right now.

  Unfortunately, he doesn’t let me off the hook quite so easily. He gently cups my face, turning me to face him.

  “I’m so sorry if anything I’ve said has made you feel like you can’t talk to me. I’m such a bastard sometimes, but I seriously only ever want to hear you talk and try to be a part of your life.”

  “You’ve never said anything like that. I’m sorry. It’s just a knee jerk reaction to hearing it from my parents my whole life. When I was a kid they weren’t listening to me, but as an adult, they aren’t hearing me. It’s infuriating.”

  Ben frowns and scratches his sexy second-day beard. “What do you mean? Is there a career path they prefer for you instead?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea. Most of the time it just feels like my mom wants someone to control. So any choice I make will be the wrong one unless she has some input. If I say I like my hair short she wants it long. If I let it grow she says it looks better short.” I stop myself, realizing I’ve gone on for too long. “I’m rambling.”

  “Not rambling, I asked you. I want to know everything. And I’m sorry you’ve been treated that way.”

  It’s weird, telling someone else this part of myself. For so long, the only person who really knew the extent of my issues with my mom was Ashley. And even with her, sometimes I don’t share everything because I don’t want her to worry about me. But, with Ben, it feels natural to unburden myself and let him share some of this load. Natural and scary, because I still don’t know what he wants this thing between us to become.

  “Anyway,” I say in a tone much breezier than how I feel, “let’s not talk about my depressing stuff anymore. Can we talk about something else?”

  Ben’s eyes fill with mischief as he grabs me around the waist and pulls me to sit in his lap with my back against him. He places a sloppy kiss on my neck and lightly caresses the skin on my tummy and hip with just his thumb. It’s so soothing, I might just fall asleep from how good it feels.

  “Maybe we can talk about how you’re planning on abandoning me for Chicago?”

  I feel him stiffen and not in a good way. I turn to look at him and his eyes are wide with a bit of panic. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

  I lick my lips, watching his eyes track the movement of my tongue for a split second.

  “What are you sorry for?” I ask, because I genuinely don’t know.

  “We uh...haven’t talked at all about the future or.... “

  “Yeah...,” I say, trailing off.

  “So, I’m sorry for springing that on you right now.”

  “Hmm.”

  There’s a long moment of silence between us while I wait for him to continue. I have no idea where this conversation is going. I feel terrible but there’s definitely part of me that wouldn’t mind putting this off and just getting back into our sex bubble.

  Ben clears his throat, and I glance up at him, examining his face. His features are so beautiful, almost delicate.

  “For the record, where would you stand on that? On continuing this thing between us?”

  Ben

  Lina stares at me like I didn’t just lay my heart on the line.

  Wait.

  Did I lay my heart on the line?

  No, I did not. It only feels that way because I know what I’m feeling, and I know exactly what I want. Still, my question to her was a cowardly attempt at feeling her out and getting a sense of what she’s thinking without actually putting myself on the line.

  Like I said, cowardly.

  I don’t want to be cowardly with her. I want her to know that I’m ready to do whatever it takes in order to be with her.

  She opens her mouth to respond but I put my hand up to stop her.

  “Before you say anything, I think it’s only fair that I tell you how I’m feeling right now. Is that okay?”

  She nods and cocks her head to the side, waiting for me to continue.

  “God, how are you so pretty?”

  Lina laughs. “Ben, come on.”

  “Okay okay, sorry. It’s just—you know, I’m trying to come to terms with how thoroughly you knocked me on my ass since the first time I met you. And just when I think I’m kind of on solid ground, you knock me down even further.”

  She frowns. “This isn’t presenting a great picture of our relationship thus far.”

  “I’m sorry, this is kind of getting away from me. The point is, I just wrapped my head around us being together for real and then you mentioned Chicago, which would be so amazing for you and I never want to get in the way of your goals. I guess it just kind of made me panic because I don’t know what you really want out of this. Would you want to start grad school with a clean slate and no pesky boyfriend holding you back? Would you be open to a long distance relationship? Would you want me to try to move out there with you? For the record, I’m on board with all of these scenarios.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Really? Even the clean slate one where we’re not together?”

  “Ah shit no, not that one. Don’t hold me to that one.”

  She smiles so sweetly, it’s a wonder how I’m even still breathing.

  I watch, perfectly still, as she sits up on her knees and crawls closer to me. She sits on my lap and I instinctively grab her waist to settle her more securely against me. She’s still naked—I’m tempted to just try and keep her naked 24/7—and it’s maybe not the best idea for a serious conversation, but I’m certainly not about to fight her.

  Up close, I can see the individual bands of amber in her eyes as they reflect the sunlight streaming through the window. She’s got her curly hair in a high ponytail thing that I’ve learned is called a ‘pineapple.’ Her face is bare, and her lips are a bit swollen and just a teensy bit bruised due to our kissing marathons. She wraps her arms around my shoulders, which causes her beautiful tits to press against my chest. I try not to groan as I feel her nipples harden against me. I’m trying to stay relatively chaste considering she’s wrapping herself around me so tightly. My hands are clenched into fists at her hips. I don’t trust myself to have free rein over her
body right now.

  My voice comes out jagged and more than a little pained. “Sweetheart, what are you doing, exactly?”

  She has the balls to look up at me in confusion. “What do you mean? Having a conversation, duh.”

  “Baby...”

  She giggles, which only causes her to press against me further, in all of the places that shouldn’t be touching while we’re trying to determine the future of our relationship. I think she realizes I’m more than a little anxious right now. Her face grows serious as she brushes my hair back before placing a too-brief kiss on my forehead.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m not trying to fuck with you. I just... I don’t know, I needed to be close to you. I’m not great at having conversations like this.”

  “Well, that makes two of us.”

  She eyes me skeptically. “I don’t believe you. You seem pretty skilled at it just now.”

  “I disagree. But please, can you continue?”

  She stares at me, chewing on that lip of hers. My god, my willpower needs to be commemorated somehow. Everyone needs to know that I had this beauty in my bed, in my goddamn lap, naked, and was still able to encourage a conversation.

  Fuck me, why is she taking so long?

  “Ben, I’m terrified. Just throwing that out there. But I’m also, really stupidly happy I met you. And I don’t want this to end just because of where I go to grad school. So, if that means long distance or you moving with me or whatever, I’m on board too.”

  She squeezes her eyes tight and bites that lip again. My heart is full to bursting as I reach up and pull her lip free. I rub my thumb against her lip, loving the softness of it and the way she’s nearly panting.

  I let all of the feelings wash over me. The ones that her proclamation brought forth. Sure, there are physical feelings, but those have been there since I set my eyes on her. But I also feel an incredible sense of calm and excitement. Like we’re about to embark on an adventure—together—and that’s overwhelmingly amazing.

  “I’d like that very much, sweetheart,” I tell her.

  “Just to be clear, you’d like what very much?”

  “Being with you, whatever that means, however it happens. I want to keep this going for as long as possible. As long as we want.”

  Lina

  It’s Sunday night after the 2nd week of the semester. I’ve once again spent the weekend at Ben’s house, and we just finished a delicious dinner that he (yet again) cooked. Is he perfect? He might actually be perfect.

  Well, except for the fact that he refuses to fuck me. We’ve spent the past week in all manners of sexual situations. He’s made me come with his mouth more times that I can count (he’s really good at that), and after much stubbornness on his part, he finally let me go down on him. Yeah, that’s right, I had to beg him to let me give him a blow job. Who is he?

  And yet, he won’t put his dick inside my vagina. Not even to play just the tip! I’ve made no secret about the fact that I’m practically mindless with want for him. But he keeps saying that he wants to wait. And that would be something I’m fine with if I thought that’s actually what he wanted. But I’m just a little suspicious that he’s still holding on to this idea of chivalry, no matter how many times I say ‘Hello, please put your penis inside my vagina and thrust.’

  “You feeling okay, baby? You’re looking a little off tonight,” Ben says, pulling me out of my near-constant sex fantasy.

  I nod and give him my best smile. This is as good an opening as any, I guess.

  “Totally fine. I did want to talk to you about something if that’s cool,” I say.

  He freezes in the midst of reaching for his wine glass, then settles back in his chair. I can tell he’s trying to compose himself and I rush to reassure him.

  “It’s not anything bad. Just a talk.”

  Ben frowns—he doesn’t believe me. “Okayyy...,” he says, “go for it.”

  I gulp down the rest of my wine and set it down on the table, perhaps a bit too forcefully.

  “So, obviously this past week has been incredible. At least, for me it has been—“

  “I agree,” he says.

  “Awesome. I know we discussed this at the beginning, but we never really came to a real conclusion about why you wanted to wait before we had sex. Honestly, Ben, if you want to wait because you don’t feel comfortable giving that part of yourself to me yet, I understand. But if you’re just holding back because you think that’s what I deserve—then I’m not gonna lie, it’s really pissing me off. It feels like you don’t trust me to make my own decision here. So which is it?”

  He lets out a huge, jagged breath. “Baby,” he says, “come sit with me, please?” He reaches a hand toward me.

  I shake my head. “Just talk first. I can’t come sit with you because then you’ll distract me from the conversation I’m trying to have.”

  He nods and pulls his hand back. “Oh sweetheart, what am I going to do with you?”

  “Preferably fuck me,” I say, not bothering to hide the brattiness from my voice.

  “Lina, I’ve wanted to fuck you since the night we met, you know that. In fact, if you’ll recall, I was very close to taking you home that night and doing just that.”

  Of freaking course I remember. For starters, it was barely two weeks ago. Plus, that’s part of the reason why I am so confused by his reluctance now. He was all in from night one, and now he’s trying to be Mr. Respectful? Do not want.

  “Something I didn’t make clear enough that night or since then is that... I don’t really do one-night stands. As in, I’ve never actually had one. So, the fact that I was ready to take you home that night, knowing that 1) you’re a student and 2) I’ve never had a one-night stand—well that was slightly terrifying, in retrospect. I just thought it would be best to take things slower.”

  I’m definitely surprised by this revelation since I just assumed one-night stands were the norm for most people. Still, it doesn’t explain his behavior since then.

  “So, to answer your question. Yeah, part of me holding back was because I wanted to be respectful of you and your first time. But a big part of it was mainly just me feeling a little out of my depth here. It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable giving that part up to you, not really. It’s hard to explain.”

  He pauses for a moment and fidgets with the place setting before looking up at me again. “I’m so sorry, Lina. I honestly didn’t realize until you just brought it up that I might be using your inexperience as an excuse to hold part of myself back. That thought never crossed my mind but now that it has, I can definitely see it.”

  Oof. I guess I should be happy Ben is being honest with me. But it stings a little bit too. Okay, maybe it stings a lot. Because I thought we were on the same page. And now I feel a little foolish.

  I force a smile and try not to crumble under his heartbreakingly tender gaze. This is definitely not how tonight was supposed to go. I was thinking we’d have this talk and smooth things out and maybe have a laugh about things before finally getting down to it. I was NOT expecting this, that’s for sure.

  “Honey, will you say something?” Ben asks.

  “I think I should spend the night at my place tonight. It’s been so long, Ashley’s probably going a little crazy.”

  Ben stands from the table just as I do. “You’re leaving now? We’re in the middle of a conversation.”

  I shrug and attempt a casual demeanor. “I’ve said all I needed to say.”

  I’m almost at the door when Ben wraps his arms around me from behind and pulls me tight against him. I should not get aroused by this display of pure manliness. But I do.

  “Baby, I haven’t said all I needed to say. You’re upset with me and I can’t let you go until I know why.”

  I whirl around to face him. “You’re seriously acting like you don’t know why? Jesus, you think you’re the only one who’s scared here? I’m about to graduate from college and embark on a whole new part of my life, with the added
complication of dating my freaking professor. But I thought we were on the same page. Because yeah, this is crazy for me too, but I wasn’t trying to fight it. I guess I foolishly thought you were all in too.”

  Ben

  Lina looks at me with such sadness in her eyes. How did I manage to fuck everything up in such a short span of time?

  I swear, I really did think I was doing the right thing by deciding not to make love to her just yet. I had no idea my actions would make her feel so terrible. She thinks I’m not all in like she is. Which is hilarious because I’ve tried to tamp down just how ‘in’ I am so I wouldn’t scare her away with my intensity. Only now, I realize that this excuse was partially a copout to avoid dealing with my own intense feelings and just how scared I am.

  But as she walks away from me, I realize I can’t hold back anymore. Not if it means accidentally hurting her by trying to protect a part of myself. I don’t want to lose her. It’s barely been two weeks and I’m already so deep, so far gone for her.

  I’m taking too long to respond. She starts to pull away from me, but I tug gently on her arm, pulling her close and cradling her soft cheek. She gasps and I love knowing how affected she is, even though I know she doesn’t want to be. She’s stiff in my arms, refusing to let herself get comfortable. I can’t blame her—this stubborn, strong-willed woman of mine.

  For a moment, I just hold her tight against me, bringing her head to rest just over my heart. I want her to hear it, I want her to know I’m just as affected as she is. Finally, I pull away and lead her to the living room.

  “Will you sit with me? I have some things to explain,” I say, and for a brief moment I worry that she’s going to say no, that she’s over me and will be headed off to find a more age appropriate man to take care of her. Just the thought of her with someone else makes my jaw clench.

  “Are you okay?” she asks. “You’re kind of... snarling.”

  Ah, right. I shake my head as she sits at the far corner of the couch, as far away as she can get. I want to reach over and pull her close, but I won’t do that just yet.