“You’re so wet,” he says, his finger going back and forth over my drenched lips. “I love it.”
“Please,” I mutter, not even understanding what I’m asking for. I want him to slide his finger deep inside of me, I want to feel his cock pushing past my inner lips and lodging itself inside my pussy. I want it all, and I want it right now.
Before I can even react, he parts my inner lips and slides his finger in, moving it inside me like a hook and pressing his fingertip in that sweet hidden spot. I moan again, this time louder, and he presses harder against my G-spot. I swear to God, I’m so delirious with desire I have no idea how I’m managing to stand still.
He starts to move his finger in and out of my pussy, each time his hand moves the rhythm growing. Soon enough his finger is moving so fast I’m no longer moaning, I’m just trying to keep breathing through the avalanche of sensations that rages inside of me. Letting go of my hair, he takes his other hand to between my thighs and presses his thumb over my clit, applying just enough pressure to force a moan out of my lips once more.
Working on my clit with his thumb, his index finger flying in and out of my pussy, he guides me to the edge and, with a simple word, throws me off of it.
“Come,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. “Come for me.”
Just like that, I go off. I close my eyes again, breathing hard through my gritted teeth as all muscles in my body become tight and hard, uncontrollable tension pooling in every single fiber of my being. Like a bomb, pleasure explodes inside of me, my muscles letting go of all that tension as a forceful scream leaves my throat. My voice quivers as he stops moving his finger and just presses it hard against my G-spot, rubbing it there with the mastery of a man who knows women almost too well. I can never think of him as just a young boy, even if he’s my son’s best friend. I know now that he knows my body better than I do, and he knows how to please my body better than even my marathon masturbation sessions can.
“You’re so beautiful when you come,” Jason growls, his lips against my neck. “I want to watch it every day. I want to make you come over and over again, everyday. I want to taste it and smell it and have it be my one goal of the day,” Jason says, wrapping his arms around me.
“Mmm,” is all I manage to say. But I swear it isn’t a cop out, I just have come so hard and so much that I need to take a moment and do absolutely nothing with my brain. It occurs me to that only with Jason can I shut off the things that make me suffer and contemplate the worst possible scenarios. But when I let myself really feel things when I’m with Jason? I’m not struggling, I’m not stressing. I feel taken care of and I feel adored. I feel like a really woman and not some involuntary almost-virgin like I was before.
“Thank you,” I finally say. I know it is like kinda a stupid thing to say but it is what I mean and feel in my heart of hearts. I want Jason to know how much this means to me, how much all of it means to me.
“You’re welcome,” Jason says, wrapping his arm around me and kissing
my forehead again.
I want us to stay like this forever but he and I both know that we can’t. I try to stand on unsteady legs and find myself wobbling, and once again, Jason is there to hold me up and help me.
I don’t know what’s going to happen between us, I just know that there’s a hope in my life that didn’t exist before. I don’t want to leave this moment. I’m always hiding away from reality, but I have this stolen moment that is just too perfect and I need to be able to hide away in it, instead.
Because soon, the rest of the world and reality is going to take away what is so precious to me now. Jason can’t be mine…and that reality is harsher than anything else I’ve tried to escape from.
“I have to go,” I say, the words sounding hollow and feeling like they come from someone else’s lips and not my own.
I hope that I’m not hurting him. Jason’s arms around me squeeze for a moment, but when there’s slack in his grip, I slide out of his arms. It is the most painful thing, emotionally, I think I’ve ever done. I think I can actually feel myself sliding between the bars of my freedom and back into my cage. But what else can I do?
This time when I go home and close myself against the door, I’m not trying to come. I’m trying not to cry. My back pushes against the unforgiving wood, my body feeling awkward inside of clothes with the memories of Jason’s hands all over my skin still. The almost reverent way he touched me and the way my skin still smells like him is too much to bear.
I’m just lonely all over again, crying into the shower as I watch the water swirl down the drain along with everything that made me feel free. I can hardly swallow when I think about how trapped I feel all over again, and with no cruel husband to point blame at for the pain, it is just reality again that imprisons me.
Jason
I fucking didn’t want to come out tonight. Ron’s having a summer party, the guy’s loaded and has more money than sense. His dad’s always away on a business trip, and he constantly turns a blind eye to Ron’s constant house parties. Maybe in a way that constitutes as part of his parenting skills. He’s happy as long as his son is happy. The problem is that Ron’s never happy because he’s constantly bitching about how much money he has, which is never enough. And how much time he has, which again is never enough to do anything that he wants to do.
‘I wanted to spend two weeks in Aspen, and not one.’
Or last summer it was, ‘I wanted to spend three weeks in the Bahamas, not two.’
Always the same fucking boring conversation, which is why I would rather be at home or even at her house putting my arms around her. But there are two people that made me come out.
Number one, my mom.
Number two, her son.
“I still can’t believe that you never came to the lake with us. We’ve been planning that trip all year! What gives man?” Daniel asks as he raises an eyebrow.
Fuck, when did he turn into my mom?
“Daniel, I told you that I wasn’t coming. My grades are crap, and I need to study. I don’t get why you’re making it into such a big deal.”
“Because you told me after you were supposed to be there. We split the gas cost based on you being there. Ron bought the food. Kevin bought the drinks. Everything was split based on you being there, and you just act like it’s nothing. Money doesn’t grow on trees you know?”