I could feel Bobby’s cock tensing inside my body. “Don’t stop now, baby,” I goaded him. “I’m not done yet.”
“Baby, you’re too hot.”
“Yeah? Not hot enough to wait for, though?”
He groaned. “It was a mistake, baby. I love you.”
“You love me?” I don’t know if I was surprised. I didn’t know a lot of things just then. I did know he would cum before I did, and there wouldn’t be a followup. “Does it feel good to love me?” I asked. I gripped the back of his neck and began to work my hips furiously into his own. “Does that feel sweet, baby? Feel like you own it?”
“Ahn,” my boyfriend groaned. “Baby- baby, I’m gonna cum.”
“I bet you are,” I said. “You didn’t even ask about a condom.”
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop.”
I laughed. I dug my nails again into his shoulders and rolled my hips faster, faster. “That’s it, Bobby,” I said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. Come on, baby, cum for me. Why not?”
And he did. Bobby’s ejaculate creamed out of him, out of that big lovely cock of his, into my naked pussy, unprotected. It was a thrilling little feeling, suddenly wet and hot, almost enough to get me off.
But it wasn’t. And I’d used him up.
I lifted myself off Bobby, watching as his slick penis dragged out from between my legs, not without a small bit of longing but with much more resentment to quash it down. I stepped gracefully over to my shorts and pulled them back up. Then my shirt. Bobby was too shell-shocked to notice, so I snapped my fingers.
He looked ridiculous, head back on the couch and his pants and boxers hung across his knees. His dick made a smeared mess of his t-shirt. But I couldn’t really blame him for that. He jerked to face me when I snapped.
“Get up and go,” I said.
“What?”
I strode to the front door and opened it with a crack. The cool Illinois air was happy to blow in and say hi. Bobby was frantically pulling up his pants to avoid it.
“What the fuck?” he said eloquently.
“That’s it,” I said. “Get up and go.”
Still stuffing himself into his boxers, he rounded the couch. “What’s going on?” he said.
“Well,” I said, “I have to take my Plan B, and you have to go back to Michigan. And after that I don’t know what’s going on. I guess you’re going to be a businessman and I’ll be, I’m not sure.” It was good, I reflected, that Tom had left me two fifties, though I wasn’t proud of the fact that I’d have to take another pill so soon.
“Are you breaking up with me?”
I smiled sadly. We had had some great times over the years. It wasn’t fair to end it this way. “Yes,” I said.
“What-” he sputtered. He pointed back to the couch. “What the fuck was that all about?”
“That was a goodbye present,” I said. “For you,” I clarified. “Not so much for me.”
“Katie, I don’t understand what’s gotten into you.”
“Whatever it was it wasn’t in there for very long. Get out,” I told him. And he did.
When I was sure he’d gone I wondered if I would cry. I sat at the kitchen table for a long time, wondering that, his semen slowly leaking into my shorts. That’s as wet as I got that day, if you don’t count the shower.
* * *
In April I was no surer of what I was going to do, or supposed to be, than I’d been in June. It was almost a year, I suddenly realized one day at the gym, that this had all started. I actually stopped mid-stride on the elliptical machine and, beside me, Allison cocked her head. “What’s wrong?” she said.
What was wrong?
It was an unseasonably hot day. After we were done with the gym, we were both streaming with sweat. “Ugh,” said Allison. “I hate it when there’s so many people in here. I can barely breathe. Do you want to take a shower before we go?”
“Yes,” I said automatically. Unbidden, the vision of Tom licking my body, like a cat, shimmered up in my exhausted brain. Every inch of me, every salty extremity. I tried to fight it, but the sense memory was strong. As I was stripping in the locker room I distinctly felt Tom’s fingers open my legs and his mouth begin its trail of kisses behind my wet knees, spreading my skin, rolling his way up my ass and burying his nose in my crack. I stumbled and Allison had to catch me.
Her hand on my breast sent tingles up and down my legs and arms. She giggled. “Oops!” We smiled at each other as we hung up our towels and stepped into the warm spray. We found a place away from the other girls and set down our lotion and shampoo. “Can I tell you something?” she said.
“Mm?” I wet my hair under the shower head.
“Your breasts feel different.”
I laughed. “I know, I know.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’ve been…” I gazed off into the mist. The other women, ranging in age from college students to much older, were busy soaping themselves. I shook my head. “Nothing. But I know. My whole body’s been kind of a mess lately.”
“You don’t look like a mess,” said Allison. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You look good too.” It wasn’t a lie. Allison’s breasts were still bigger than mine, not as round; they had a sweeping slope to them. They looked great when she wore a bra that kept them tight against her chest, let them pop out (Allison actually didn’t flaunt herself that often; only sometimes when she felt particularly daring out at clubs). Naked, they had a nice weight to them, a pillow-like droop that looked like they’d be nice to lay your head against. She focused her workouts on her gluts and her legs and her stomach, so she missed out on a lot of the toning I did on my upper body, but it suited her. Overall Allison was a much softer, gentler figure. And I suddenly felt very glad to be with her.
She noticed me looking and smiled. “Are you checking me out?”
“Only a little,” I teased.
“Let me wash your back?”
I turned around and she soaped my shoulders, down my spine. She gave my bum a playful little pat and then turned around to let me do her. “Thanks,” she said. When she turned around she must have seen me break a little.
“Kate?” she said. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
I shook my head. I don’t know if it was the heat, I don’t know if it was the tenderness, the soreness in my body, or the ache in my body that wanted, and all the things this gym had led to and started, but I was suddenly not as together as I thought I was. I didn’t come apart exactly, but my brow furrowed and I quickly began to wash the soap off my body and the shampoo from my hair. I sighed into the spray. Would it hurt her to tell her? What did I want to tell her?
I found it spilling out of me. “Me and Bobby broke up,” I said.
“Oh, honey,” she said. She put a hand on my arm. That warm touch reminded me of Sara suddenly, and I looked down, straight down at Allison’s bush. It was conservatively trimmed, not quite a landing strip but a dignified little tuft over her vagina. The way the water beaded into it looked inviting. I’d shaved this morning and my pussy tingled in the vapor. “What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m just trying to… Jesus, we should do this somewhere else.”
Allison smirked. “Right, with clothes on, you mean?”
“Just not here,” I said.
“Okay.”
We finished our shower and got dressed. Allison wouldn’t take no for an answer and so instead of driving me home she took me to her place, where, after an indulgent after-workout cup of ice cream, we ended up on her couch, wrapped up in a quilt. I told her he’d been with other girls, who I didn’t know – I didn’t need to draw Sara into this yet, not for Allison. And Allison slid her fingers through my hair and nodded and gave me appropriately barbed replies about how Bobby was a dick, which I appreciated.
Her parents weren’t due home until much later so we had the house to ourselves. The light was waning outside and it got hot under the quilt, under the late afternoon sunbeams. We didn’t watch the TV, we didn’t put on any music, we just talked, talked about guys, talked about sex, talked about her and Ryan (they’d hooked up again but she was more sure than ever that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him). And, because I was feeling vulnerable, I asked her about Tom, about what was between the two of them, if anything.
For the first time I think ever she didn’t immediately change the subject when it came to him. She got quiet, and pressed her fingers into her temple and leaned into the back of the couch. “I…” she started. “I’m just not… his type,” she said.
I had cried (just a little bit), and I found myself rubbing at my eyes to clear my vision. Allison looked very thoughtful and gazed at the windows. Under the quilt, our feet laid one on top of the other, our toes tangled together. Our knees were touching.
“Do you remember that guy I went home with, that guy from Pennsylvania? At the party?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“I kind of. Geez, I don’t know, I think I might have gone home with him because I was… mad at… Tom.”
“Do you like him?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” said Allison. “I think he’s smart. But he’s weird. And that thing about paying a girl for…” She sighed. “I mean, it’s kind of sexy, fine, I’ll admit it, but God, no, of course I never would. But that’s okay for him, and he asked me-”
“He asked you again?” I cut in, automatically jealous.
“What? No. No, actually, he never brought it up again after that first time. And let me tell you, I’m no ho-bag but it’s been… Well, let’s just say Mr. UPenn was in no condition to drive and in even less condition to get me, uh…” She blushed. “I hooked up with Ryan again, I think, just to get someone to want to see me naked.” She laughed.
I laughed with her. “Honey, you’re gorgeous,” I said.