Chapter Thirty-Four The Ground

Our kissing was hot and fierce, almost angry; something it had never been with Gerard. I knew it wasn’t a fair comparison, but no matter what we did, I kept comparing everything we did back to the man that I hoped would forgive me for all of this later. His forgiveness and the consequences of this act were not on the forefront of my mind. I was focused on Jasmine, and only her and the way she felt in my arms. She was so small; I was not used to that at all. I used to be the tiny one in the relationship, both height and girth, but as she sat on top of my hips, rocking into me while our lips met hurriedly in front of us, it felt like she weighed nothing. She could apply pressure when she wanted to (and at all the right places), but I felt like I could lift her up and throw her across the room if I needed to make this end. I didn’t and I knew I wouldn’t; I wanted to keep her right where she was.

After my shirt was removed, we continued to kiss, our tongues slipping past feverish lips in the same position for a while. Her mouth was different from Gerard’s; there was no aura of stale cigarettes or bitter pungency of the wine we used to always drink. Jasmine had this fleshy taste to the inside of her mouth, completely pure and human. Her raw pink lips were the only thing to have a different taste, made different by a strawberry lip gloss that was soon wiped away without a trace over our tongues. I ran my hand through her hair a few times, and was caught off guard when the hair didn’t end when I had expected it to. It was so much longer than Gerard’s mane. It was an obvious comparison, but when my eyes were closed and I had only done these types of actions with someone of the same gender, the differences stuck out like a sore thumb. I could feel them instead of see them, and that was what hit me a lot more. I could feel how much softer her skin was around her waist as I causally slipped my hand underneath her shirt. The same soft skin coated her face, which was not rough and darkened by any facial hair. Gerard hated facial hair, and always shaved the moment he had the chance, though he never had much hair to begin with. There were some days when he would forget, or I had distracted him and I would occasionally feel the growth of a new layer poking up through his skin. His face was so pale, his hair so dark, the follicles stood out against the pristine backdrop, and made his male appearance stand out even more. When I kissed him, I noticed his skin was rougher, but it had never bothered me. Jasmine’s soft skin was something I wasn’t used to at all, and I found myself turning into her face as we kissed, just to brush up against her cheek. I liked the new sensations of a different person, a different body with a new set of organs and features, and it made my heart beat even faster inside my rib cage. I was going to be learning so much tonight.

Jasmine’s bone structure was entirely different, I had noted, and my hands became preoccupied with running down her waist and hips, marveling at how they were two separate entities and not blending into one thing. I took my time with the less obvious differences, ones that I could easily ignore when my eyes were open, and waited a long time before I sensed out the other ones. I could feel her breasts up against my bare chest, still in the confines of her tank top as we pressed together. She didn’t move away or writhe under any of my touches, even when I slipped a hand under her shirt, but I still didn’t move my way towards her chest. I didn’t know if she wanted me to or if I was allowed. When I had been with Gerard, I could just touch his chest. It was no big deal. Men could take off their shirts in public and walk around like that. It was normal and accepted. I had the same parts as Gerard, and it was generally easier to tell how he felt about certain areas being touched. If it felt good and okay to me, then it would probably be the same for him. Jasmine and I didn’t have the same parts, I could feel the different ones being pressed up against me. I didn’t know how to act around these differences; what was okay and what wasn’t. There was an extra taboo around women and their chests – they were more special and sacred than men’s chests and couldn’t be seen. It was categorized into the same shame as their sexual organs, even if men essentially had breasts, too, only a little flatter. I knew that under normal circumstances, those things in front of my face almost were not supposed to be touched.

But this was far, far away from normal circumstances. I wanted to touch them, I realized, if not only for the new experience, but because they looked like fun. I didn’t know what it was about breasts that appealed to me so much. It was probably the fact that they essentially weren’t allowed to be seen, but it was so close. I felt a spark throughout my system anytime I inadvertently ran my hand too close to them, or she knocked them into me. Her breasts weren’t too big, but they were definitely there and they were definitely waiting. I still didn’t reach out and grab them, though - I just couldn’t. Not yet. But I wasn’t entirely sure for whose sake that was.

I knew that if I were to reach out and touch those things, then it would be one of the final things in determining that fact that yes, I was with a female. I didn’t want to face that just yet. I wanted to enjoy kissing and touching her, feeling her against my skin and in my arms. I just wanted to be close to someone again. I didn’t want to think about confusion and gender and if I was cheating. I didn’t want to question why my cock was getting harder and harder by the second for a woman, when I had wanted Gerard for so long. I was gay, but I couldn’t write Jasmine off anymore as just an occurrence. I was feeling something, so hard and strong, I needed to act on it. Thinking could come later. It always did anyway.

Jasmine’s small hands ran up and down my bare arms, pushing her self lower onto my body, allowing her to break the kiss and move her focus to my neck. She added pressure to my lower half, causing me to instinctively thrust into her. I let out a moan, which surprised her, causing her to stop her motions to see if I had said something. We had been so quiet this entire time; it was a shock to both of our systems, reminding us of what we were going to do.

There were no verbal cues exchanged between us ever since my final yes answer, but we both knew where it all was going. Each and every action succeeded the next, going farther and farther into something we could not write off. After Jasmine had lowered herself to my neck, causing me to thrust and moan a few more times, my hands grabbed her waist firmly, leaning her back gently onto the couch, shifting my weight so I could look down on her. She wrapped her arms around my bare waist, and though I had planned on being off to the side of the couch, pressing into the back to keep me balanced, she moved me on top of herself, aligning our hips. I gasped as I felt my erection brush up against her inner thigh, and I was entirely convinced she was going to kick me off of her.

I didn’t know why I thought that way – she had been the one to place us there, but the fear overtook my body and I brought my eyes up to hers to check. Her face was starting to become flushed with a rose hint to her cheeks, and she smiled dopily at me. She wrapped her legs around my waist to keep me in place, kissing me so I could utter no words to question her actions. This was okay for her, and she wanted to show me that.

We dry humped each other for a while, my lips being the ones to trail down to her neck and collar bones, sucking hard as my hands continued to explore her body – everywhere except those ill-forsaken breasts. I slipped my hand up her tank top once again, feeling the curve of her stomach and hip bone. Jasmine was skinny, but she wasn’t bone-thin by any means. The couch was soft and gave way to the extra weight this time, letting her stomach not have a concave appearance. The little belly that she had rolled up to the front, and it felt good to feel some flesh in between my fingers. I moved my hand up more, feeling the curve of her ribs, but not in too much detail. We weren’t thrusting as fast anymore, tiring out from both of our constant hip motions, but there was still contact, rough and labored through our jeans. It felt good, but I was still far, far away from coming. Having sex so often with Gerard had let me build up quite a tolerance threshold. I was surprised some days how long we could keep going without my orgasm (which always came before his, partly because he was old), ruining the fun for us. The longest we had had sex I was pretty sure had been over two hours, though we never timed anything. We didn’t have a clock to do so, and we didn’t need it. I had no idea how long Jasmine and I had been fooling around for, but it couldn’t have been too long. It may have felt like it was all happening so fast, from the way we kissed and pecked and thrust like it was our only chance to ever do it (it sort of was), but we still had a lot of time on our hands.

When I collided with Jasmine’s thigh and other areas again, I didn’t stifle my moans. I heard her moan a few times when this happened, too, but I couldn’t have been sure. I suddenly realized that there was no way of telling if she was enjoying this or not. She didn’t have a cock that gave away all the answers. She had a vagina, and even saying that word in my mind made me cringe inside. It didn’t sound right. It was too technical, too formal. It wasn’t like we were going to be having a lesson in biology class, dissecting something. I had always hated calling my cock a penis, for the very same reason. Just as sudden as my realization before, I noticed that calling it a cock seemed too harsh. I wasn’t with a male anymore, where language was never really supposed to be that nice to begin with. Gay sex was rough, messy, and it fucking hurt. But straight sex… I didn’t know what to call things for my side or her side. Pussy was too degrading in my mind, something that Sam would use. Vagina was too technical, and something my old and gray haired biology teacher would have used. Cock too harsh, penis just plain weird. I didn’t know what I was doing or touching; there were no words for it anymore. It was just an action to me now; one that I couldn’t tell if she liked or not.

“You okay?” I asked quietly, my voice coming out choppily from the lack of oxygen from our make out session. She stopped thrusting into me for a bit, which sent my heart rate pumping fast. Had I done something wrong? I removed my hand from inside of her shirt immediately, and rested it by her side instead, just in case I had.

“Yeah, yeah,” she insisted, seeing my fear and trying to smile at me. “I’m great.”

She grabbed my hand back from her side and placed it on her chest again. Feeling relieved, I slipped it under her shirt and began to kneed the flesh there again, relishing in her soft skin. I was surprised when her palm didn’t leave me though, instead guided me up past her middle, past the rib cage, to land on her right breast.

“Ohhh,” we both echoed on contact, my hand gripping the flesh loosely while hers left and went back to my waist.

It wasn’t me being touched, but God, it felt just as good. I was only on top of her bra, not even touching her skin on skin yet, but I could feel the hardened nipple underneath the thin fabric. It was well enough to make my cock twitch with anticipation. It was enough to remind me that this was a woman, and it didn’t matter anymore. I liked what I was doing. It was very clear that other parts of me liked it, too.

I cupped her a few times with my entire hand readily, wanting to feel everything I could. I trailed my fingers down and started to push them under her bra, spreading the tips along her perked skin. I swirled them and pressed down, sucking on her bottom lip as my stomach fluttered. I had never done this before – it was thrilling. She didn’t have the chest hair and rough skin I was used to, hell her skin was even softer here, another feat I thought impossible. The female body was full of mystery, and I wanted to dive my head into everything to search and find out every last bit.

Jasmine groaned again in encouragement under the contact, and bucked her hips into mine. It may not have been as good of an indicator as an erection, but at least I knew I was doing something right.

I continued to play with the new area of flesh that I was not accustomed to, while brushing past her lips quickly and focusing on her neck. I sucked her skin strongly, but tried not to be too hard. Her skin was much more subtle than Gerard’s had ever been, and I had a feeling she was probably easier to give hickeys to. I didn’t think she would want them, so I tried to be gentle, and moved around as much as possible. With this new zealous for her chest, I found my tongue trailing down from her clavicles, to suck on each tiny bit of skin before I felt the fabric of her tank top tickling my chin, and my face was nestled in between the two lumps of flesh. I groaned and breathed hard on her skin when I realized this, bucking into her hips. Her hands were on my shoulders by this point, not pushing me down or away, but supporting me nonetheless.

“Ugh, Frank,” she groaned, causing me to remove my face from where it was.

I thought she was trying to get up from the way she was moving, so I backed up and off of her, only to see her smiling back up at me. I was slightly confused for a second, until she sat up and reached her arms to her side, pulling off the fabric of the tank top slowly, messing up her hair as it was flung off her shoulders. I just stared and swallowed hard when she was unclothed, only wearing her small white bra in front of me. It was off kilter from me sticking my finger in the fabric, and I could see the light color change on her skin, exposing the beginnings of a left nipple. I bit my tongue and crushed my eyes closed, trying not to get too ahead of myself. I didn’t know if she wanted me looking there. Touching was one thing, but I knew looking and staring like I had been could be too invasive.

When I did opened my eyes again, I found her on her knees in front of me, facing me like I was to her. She wrapped her arms around me in a hug, which I reciprocated, feeling her soft back in my palm. She could feel my erection coming through my jeans, but did nothing to stop me as I slowly thrust into her, unable to help myself.

“Let’s get on the floor,” she said, bringing herself out of the hug and whispering in my ear. I nodded vaguely as she took my hand and lead me to the cold cement floor.

It was in that moment that she left me alone in the chilled air, and the even colder cement hit my knees as she went to go get blankets from the side, that I actually knew this was going to happen. I was going to have sex with Jasmine and I didn’t want to stop it. I wanted to do it so bad, I was practically hurting inside my now too-tight jeans. I just wanted to kiss her again, but another part of me held myself back. It was then that I also realized that this was going to be my first time.

Yeah, I had had sex with Gerard – a lot – but that was entirely different. Though I kept comparing the experiences in my head subconsciously (and consciously), they were completely different. With Gerard, it had been my first time having gay sex. I had never had a cock up my ass before, and really I never thought I ever would. But I did, and I had been okay. I liked it. I had also lost my virginity to him in other ways. He had taken all of my firsts from me. He was my first real kiss that actually meant something. I had kissed people, girls, before, but I had been drunk or it was just a game. I had actually felt something for Gerard and kissed him because of it. I also felt a lot more for that man, and I had let him take a lot from me. He was my first oral sex experience, my first handjob, my first fuck – everything. And in my mind, there wasn’t just one losing of my virginity with him. In gay sex, it could go both ways; it was reversible. He was the first person to ever enter me, and he was the first person I had ever entered.

I was glad that it had been him to take those things from me; I didn’t even really consider them taking anymore. I had given those things to him, freely offering up myself to a man I completely trusted. I really had offered myself that first time. I told him he could take everything from me, and he hadn’t let me down. I had taken everything from him, too. Our relationship was reciprocal, equal, and very intense. I was a sexually experienced teenager now because of him – but he had only taken all that he could. He had not taken away my straight-sex virginity. He couldn’t have done that, and I was perfectly fine with never losing that one. I had Gerard; I was fine. And I thought I was gay. I was gay.

Here I was with Jasmine, though, getting ready to lose that specific virginity. And suddenly, I got scared. Really, really scared. I didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have a cock to signal me with. It was an entirely different hole. It was an entirely different motion. Experience. And most of all, entirely different person. I was going to be giving myself to Jasmine, just like I had Gerard. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that yet.

I watched her slender body as she began to lay down the gigantic thin sheet onto the floor first, then taking another one and placing it on top for extra padding. A part of me yelled at myself to go up and help her, but all I could do was watch. She didn’t seem to mind too much, her smile still plastered on her face even when she wasn’t looking directly at me. It was seeing that smile, the one that she said didn’t hide a single thing, and the one I had wanted out of her ever since the confrontation with Sam, that I realized I really did want to do this. Jasmine was the first real friend I had been able to keep in a long time, who accepted me for what I was. Or at least what I told her to be. If she knew about Gerard… maybe things would have been totally different. Maybe things wouldn’t have been the way they were right then, her sitting down on the blankets and smiling over at me to come and join her. But what she did know about me, she liked and accepted and I was ready to give that part of myself to her.

I crawled over to where she was laying on her back, propped up on her elbows waiting for me. I brought my lips to hers slowly first, before I slid a leg over her torso, my hands brushing along her shoulders. I accidentally knocked one of her thin straps too hard, sending it fall down over her arm, but still supporting her breasts. I muttered an apology, trying to fix the strap the way it was before, only to have her shake her head and push it down again, this time a little further, so some of her chest was more exposed. My breathed caught in my throat, and I put my lips to hers again, trying to distract myself.

Her breasts still somewhat scared me, probably because I liked them so much. I didn’t understand how two lumps of flesh could be so attractive, but fuck, they were. I found my hand wandering over to where I knew the exposed chest was and cupped it in my hands again, earning a sigh from Jasmine. With encouragement, I began to cup it more and more, doing the same thing as I had been previously, only with more of a response.

“Here,” she finally panted, breaking the kiss and getting up slightly. Before I could object, with one quick movement, she reached behind her back, straining for a bit before I heard a clasp undo. She brought her arms in front of herself again, sheepishly sliding her bra forward into her hands.

I was grateful she had undone it for me, to be honest, because I knew I would have just ended up looking like a fool if I had tried and failed. I was still fairly positive I did look like a fool, though, especially as I was presented with a topless Jasmine. Her breasts looked even better than they felt; small mounds with a rose hue in the center, but that didn’t stop me from reaching out and making sure they were still real.

As we began to kiss again, my body climbing on top of hers, I recalled the first day I met her and she had been jumping on the trampoline. When she had accidentally flashed her bra, she had been very blunt about getting over it, because that was all we’d ever see from her. I found it extremely ironic, because there I was, kissing my way down her chest and latching my lips to one of her nipples. I sucked tenderly, as I heard her faint panting to the background of my memory. And then I began to realize that this so-called memory wasn’t that old. It was only yesterday. I suddenly stopped sucking on her chest, moving my body off of her slightly, disconnecting our pelvises.

“I’ll get the condom,” she stated in a breathy sigh, accepting my offer to get up, but thinking it was for a totally different reason. I sat off to the side while she turned her back, reaching into one of the drawers and pulling out a shiny object. I stared at it and shook my head, blinking my eyes a few times.

Gerard and I almost never used condoms. Though he had bought them for us that first morning after, we had only used them three times at most. Those three times were nothing compared to how many times we did have sex without them. Our sex was so spontaneous most days and nights, we just forgot to get a condom, especially later in our relationship. The first few times we started having sex after the first night, he would always ask me if I wanted him to, and he had worn one without problems when I had said yes. It wasn’t really that different with the condom on; we just had to stop in the middle of the action to actually put one on, and it was a burden to remember since our patterns were so sporadic. When we did use those three condoms, it was within that first week, and only him sporting the item. The first time Gerard had taken it from me, it had been that Sunday night we were under time constraints, and forgotten about it. I saw no point for myself to wear one after that night, but Gerard continued to ask me for himself for a little while longer. It was later on when we were more comfortable with each other and the actual idea of sex, that we began to taper the usage of them down. If we did remember to wear one, it was usually within moments before penetration and I figured there was no point. I had no prior sexual partners, and I wasn’t too worried about being unprotected when we had sex. Gerard had assured me he was clean, and even showed me something from a doctor at one point. I wasn’t sure – I hadn’t really been paying attention for once. He had told me this was all about me, for me, and I really saw no point in a condom, especially since I wanted to be as close to him as possible. There was no way of getting pregnant with us, but straight sex was another matter. I had forgotten about that, along with many other things. Like the fact that Jasmine and I had only known each other for twenty four hours.

She came back over to me, holding out a few condoms. I had no idea why she brought more than one, and my heart started to pound, thinking that she wanted to have sex a lot tonight. She explained before my mind could jump to conclusions any further.

“Sometimes they’re tricky. They don’t always go on properly and sometimes they fall off and it’s hard to get them back on again.”

She talked as if it were the simplest thing on the world. I just watched her hands as she spoke, thinking things over and over again. When I finally looked at her again, I remembered that she was also topless during this entire thing. My breath fell out from under me, and I felt my heart pound in my ribcage. I had to say something.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, reaching an arm out and touching her shoulder. She seemed to realize she was half naked at that point and folded her other arm across her chest, hiding herself haphazardly. She rolled her eyes a bit at my request, thrown off by my serious nature.

“Yeah,” she answered, nodding her head. “Why else would I have gotten condoms?”

“Well,” I started, not really seeing how to argue with that. I had a feeling I was more so arguing for my conscious, if anything else. “Are you still sure, though?”

I moved myself closer to her, wrapping the arm I had on her shoulder around her side, in a feeble motion to display my care.

“Frank, it’s okay,” she stated, losing her embarrassment and smiling at me. “It’s not my first time.”

“Oh,” I uttered, taken completely and utterly by surprise.

I had never really thought about it being anything other than her first time, like it was with me. I couldn’t fathom Jasmine, the girl who jumped on a trampoline and acted like a child constantly had had sex before. And most likely before I had ever had sex.

“How many times have you done…it?”

“Two guys.”

“Cool…” I said, trying to sound nonchalant when bells and whistles were going off inside my head. I could have probably accepted if she had been with one guy. I had been with one person before, but the fact that it had been two made me feel suddenly more naked than I was ever going to get that night.

“Wait,” Jasmine suddenly said after a few moments of silence. Getting a bad feeling in the pit of my chest, I took in a deep breath, waiting for her next line.

“Is this your first time?”

“No,” I answered quickly, only half-lying. I had had sex before, just not with a girl. She didn’t need to know that detail. At all. And she didn’t need to know I was a virgin; the way her eyes had bugged out of her head and her emphasis on certain words made me feel maladroit all over again.

“Okay,” she approved, nodding her head and accepting my answer as fact. A few moments later, when silence still surrounded us in the cold air, she asked, “What’s wrong then?” She bit her lip and took in a sharp breath. “Too soon?”

“I don’t know,” I stated, and I really didn’t.

It was very fast, but there was a huge difference from moving too fast and too soon. Too soon meant we weren’t ready. I didn’t think that was the case. I was really comfortable with her, and I trusted her a lot more than any of my other friends. She appeared to feel the same way with me; she wouldn’t have told me the story about her dad, or have been sitting there topless if she wasn’t ready for this. Now that I knew she wasn’t a virgin either, I felt a part of me relax. Another part of me tensed up, making me be the same bundle of nerves, because then I would be compared to other guys, but it was only two. It was my first time with a girl, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t stuck my cock in anywhere before. I was sure I could fake my way through it.

“I don’t think it’s too soon.”

“Good,” she stated, nodding her head. She pulled my body closer to hers, spreading the warmth we had lost in our brief time apart. Before she kissed me again, but was still in my arms, she felt the need to add to her statement. “I’ve never had sex this quick before. I dated both guys I was with for almost a year. I don’t do this with everyone.”

“Neither do I,” I answered honestly. It had only been special people I had been with before. Gerard and now Jasmine, even if I had only known her a day.

“Good,” she stated again solidly, nodding her head. And now, it was okay to start again.

We pressed our lips together, developing some of the ardent nature we had previously. We were both still wearing our jeans, and soon enough, Jasmine’s hands were at the front of my waist, fumbling with the buttons while I was still on top of her. I rolled off a little, missing the warm contact of hip to hip action, but knowing it was going to get ten times better once the barriers were removed. I leaned back as she undid my fly without assistance, rolling my pants off of my hips until I had to shift and take them off to help her. I left my boxers on, my cock creating a clearly obvious tent. She scanned it over with her curious eyes a few times, but didn’t dwell on it.

I moved my attention back to her and her soft curves, kissing her as my hand ran down to her waist. Before I even touched her buttons, I asked one last time if she was sure, and with a mock sigh, she just finally told me to go for it. I laughed at her overzealous nature, and decided to pick up the role as the tease in the relationship, and didn’t remove her pants right away. After I undid her button and fly, I let my hands rest around the area. I kissed her neck and heard her pants and groans for more contact in my ear, her nails digging into my biceps a little. After her biting down with a laugh on my ear to get my attention, I tentatively slid my hand into her pants, the cotton fabric of her underwear making me shiver, despite the warmth I felt. I didn’t touch her too much, before she helped take the rest of her pants off, mostly because I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid of hurting her, and everything seemed so sensitive. Just me lightly touching the underside of herself through garment made her grip onto me tighter, and I had no idea if it was good or bad. So I avoided it all together. Her pants were off now, and we connected our bodies again.

We stayed in this formation for only a few minutes, not being able to just kiss each other without both of our hips wanting more friction and without the added layer of clothing. She kept her hands on my waist and causally began to slide them further off my exposed skin and into the covered area of my boxers, rolling them down as she went. I was nervous as she did it, but not for myself. I was used to being naked at this point. I didn’t even flinch as my harden cock hit the air and she looked at me straight on. I was nervous because that meant I would be seeing all of her soon, and I would have to face another barrier in realizing what exactly I was doing.

Thankfully, we both parted to fully disrobe ourselves, me putting the condom on while she took off the rest of her clothing, our backs turned to each other. It was a lot more impersonal than I had wanted everything to be (not that I had really fantasized too much about this night before), but I figured I would be close enough to her in a matter of moments. I needed the breathing room anyway.

I could see her body in the corner of my eye, and though I told myself to concentrate on something else, I found my gaze lingering longer than it needed to. Her motions were quick and fluid as she removed the thin garment, while I was still struggling to bite open the wrapper off of the damn protection. My hands were shaking from what I told myself was the cold in the room, and finally I just had to give up on using them, tearing into it with my teeth. I ended up ripping part of the condom when I did that, though, leaving a tiny teeth mark in one of the sides, and didn’t want to risk using it, though the mark didn’t look like it had gone all the way through. I started to understand why she had brought more condoms and I thanked God for that. The last thing I needed to do was get a girl pregnant, because of my teeth and stupidity.

I could feel her laying and waiting next to me, her smooth skin visible out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to hurry up, to get this over with so I could enjoy the rest of the night. I had never used a condom before, and I really hoped she didn’t pick up on that. It was so awkward, placing it over myself; it was lubricated, and smelled really funny. I had no idea how Gerard had been able to do this when we had had sex, and do it relatively quickly. Finally, the fucking thing worked and I was able to roll it over my still hard cock, though I knew I was fading by the second.

When I turned around and looked at Jasmine, I nearly did a double take. She was fucking gorgeous. I remembered Gerard’s words about how the woman’s body was a work of art and holy hell, he was right. I had seen Vivian before, but she was older than me and that had only been for a few seconds that I had not been prepared for. I wasn’t really all that prepared for Jasmine either, but I had way more than a few seconds to gawk. I needed every last second.

Her body was small and subtle, everything fitting into the right places. She was laying down and waiting, propped up a bit on her elbows. Her legs were twisted together a bit, curling and uncurling her toes as she waited impatiently. I couldn’t help myself as I looked closely at the parts I had never seen before. Her breasts looked relatively the same, but I noted the slightly darker pubic hair, not as soft as the hair on her head, but definitely not as coarse as the hair on my own body. She looked even more fragile when she was naked, but she definitely didn’t look weak or small. She seemed to glow under the amber light, her pale and soft skin becoming an iridescent glow. Her blonde hair shined under the light, only a little messy from the fooling around we had done previously.

She smiled at me but when she noticed how long I was staring; she started to turn away, blushing infiltrating her already red face. Getting some composure back, I tried to maneuver my way onto her body, thoughts plaguing me. I honestly didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I had an urge when I first approached, to lift her legs and put them over my shoulders because that’s what I had to do with Gerard occasionally, but I had to remind myself that it was the wrong hole. I had to put it in the first one, and as trivial as that advice sounded, I needed it just then.

“You ready?” I asked, as I climbed on top of her for what felt like the fiftieth time that night, but each time never becoming any easier. I supported myself high above her on my open palms so I didn’t just jam it in right away. I could feel heat radiating around my cock from her entrance and thighs and I had to close my eyes, rolling them back in my head.

“Yes,” she insisted, just wanting me to get it over with.

She rubbed her hands along my bare sides, finishing at the small of my back and pushing me forward, giving the first step into our act. I tried to hesitate for another moment, realizing that I had forgotten lube, but when my head hit the tip of her entrance and I felt something wet surround me, I forgot about my first notion. I had remembered hearing in health class about this sensation, but I had never thought about it, let alone how it would feel. I began to slide into her with little difficulties at first, feeling this warm feeling surround me, causing my jaw to slack open. I was only in a little bit, going past the ridges when I felt some form of resistance. It wasn’t much, and I was able to push past it and get all the way inside of her, but I still had to ask if she was okay again. First penetration was always the most difficult – and I knew that rule applied for gay or straight sex.

“I’m fine, Frank,” she insisted, her voice not as austere as before. She was clinging to my back, her arms wrapped around and meeting at the nape of my neck. Her eyes were closed, and breathing heavy. “Just keep going.”

Following her request, I continued to go in, hearing her moan as I hit something inside of her. A voice in my head started to congratulate me for hitting her prostate, but I reminded myself yet again that this was not Gerard I was fucking. Or a guy of any kind. This was Jasmine, and the things I had learned about sex from Gerard were useless. I had to put him out of my mind entirely, and just go for it. I needed to stop comparing and trying to draw upon his lessons, because they didn’t work here. They didn’t work in the real world, or this world at the cottage.

Once I was to get that notion free inside my head, I began to thrust in and out of Jasmine slowly, becoming completely engulfed by the feeling of her.

We didn’t last as long as I usually did, partly because the environment was extra sensitive to me, making me want more and more of it really quickly. I still tried to go as slow as I could, not wanting to hurt Jasmine and letting her have just as much fun as I was having, though I was unsure of how to ensure that fun. She had no prostate for me to hit, and no cock for me to jerk off. My arms remained propping me up so I didn’t just slam into her, while my lips kissed her face and neck. She moaned and panted a few times when I hit something inside of her, but nothing as loud as I was. I caught her laughing at me as I groaned particularly loud, surprised by how vocal I was during sex. I merely kissed her to stop her teasing, angling my body inside of her to hit a particular spot, my attempt to make her more vocal proving to work significantly well. She had a lot more sensitive areas in her body than I was used to, and I felt extra productive and proud each time I located one. I kept wanting to do it over and over again, just to see the look of ecstasy on her face.

At one point, she reached her hand down in between our bodies and started to touch herself. It confused me at first, considering I was getting plenty of moans from my thrusts inside of her, but I followed her lead, figuring it was something I was supposed to do and was part of normal straight sex. She seemed surprised when my hand followed hers, but she didn’t push me away. She positioned me, with her hand over my own to guide me at first, as I began to rub something. She took her hand away from the one guiding the motion and let me continue it on my own, her head lolling back as I did. The position was slightly uncomfortable when I touched her like that, but I figured it was worth it if it made her happy.

She was clenching around me a lot at that point, breathing pretty hard, too, and it wasn’t long before I had to stop touching her and brace myself for my orgasm. I felt bad leaving her alone for my own pleasure, but there wasn’t much coherent thought in my head. I managed to place a small kiss to her as I came in one final thrust. I rode out my orgasm, breathing heavily for a prolonged moment after, resting my head on her chest. It took me a while to realize that she had stopped all of her movement, too, other than her hands pressing into my back every so often.

“Are you okay? Did you come?” I diverted my attention back to her, looking up from her chest and not realizing how blunt the statement was. I was completely unable to tell if it was true, though, considering she was constantly already wet and didn’t have the sexual organs I was used to working with.

Instead of being repulsed or disgusted by my question, her face sort of lit up with a twist of surprise, and she started to smile sheepishly.

“Yeah, I finished a while ago,” she answered, her cheeks a bit red from the whole exertion. I stared at her for a bit, not quite comprehending that she had already climaxed. I couldn’t really remember any times where she had acted differently to indicate that, and there was certainly no evidence from it. I just tried to nod my head, and not worry over little occurrences like that. It was over now, and things could go back to normal.

In the next few moments, we untwined ourselves from each other and began to get dressed again. My thoughts were calmer than I had thought they would be, considering the circumstances. Instead of the frantic wonderings from before, I was at peace; at ease. It wasn’t just from the orgasm, either. There was a different center of peace inside me, quelling my nerves and rushing around me more than the endorphins ever could.

I had had sex. Proper straight sex that I thought I never would have. It had felt good, too. Really good.

The air in the room was different, or at least I thought it was. There was a tranquil, understanding environment. It was silent around us – a silent that was completely natural. There were no noises other than the shuffling of clothing, and light breathing fluttering out of our mouths. Things were not as tense as they were before, the act finally done and over with. We had admitted that we both liked each other, and finally done something about it, instead of just playing it off by chance. Looking back, I realized there was no such thing as chance or coincidence with us. We had both been dancing around a slight attraction for the other person, but didn’t want to admit it for feeble reasons (on my part, at least – I had no real idea why Jasmine was so hesitant to admit anything before, especially when her smile apparently gave it all away to begin with). Though we had admitted we liked each other, we were just friends even after this act. We had agreed to that at the beginning, though using different words and different people’s stories. Jasmine may not have known all the details of Gerard and Vivian’s relationship together, and even I may have not fully understood it, but we were both going to try, starting with each other. It seemed like the perfect arrangement; like everything was working out for once.

I still had my head in the clouds from my orgasm, slipping my boxers on over my hips, while Jasmine was almost fully clothed again. I found it odd how she could have been so calm and docile during the prep period for sex, walking around in just her bra and shirtless, but after the act was done, she was covering herself up quickly all over again. I merely tossed on my boxers, figuring she wouldn’t want to look at me after the fact, but I intended on keeping my shirt off, especially if we stayed down in the cellar for the night. I somewhat wanted to just sleep with her again, like we had the night before on the trampoline, only not wearing as much clothing. And definitely with a lot less tension.

“Frank?” Jasmine’s voice cut through the air suddenly, curious tone clearly present.

“Mmm?” I asked, scooting myself over to where she sat, tugging her tank top over her head. I helped her straighten out the back folds and wrinkles as I waited for her to talk. She smiled at me and thanked me quietly for the aid, her brows knitting. It was a peculiar look; something I had never seen before in Jasmine.

“What’s up?” I asked, wanting to know what was bugging her, but still feeling tranquil about everything.

“How many people have you had sex with?” she spat out right away. She gave me a look, not an accusing one; just curious and skeptical. I pursed my lips together briefly, feeling my heart stop for a second. I knew she couldn’t have known about Gerard, but she was getting at something I didn’t know if I wanted to hear.

“One,” I answered, swallowing hard after and praying that she wouldn’t make me elaborate. The sudden cold in the basement took advantage of me, constricting my exposed skin all the way up to my neck, and I wished for my shirt. Jasmine didn’t make me elaborate, but what she did do was almost as bad. Her smile raised a little, shaking her head with small, barely noticeable breathy laughter.

“What?” I questioned feeling my masculinity threatened. I bit my lip, my confidence from before draining a bit. “Was I really that bad?”

“No,” she answered almost instantly, the sincerity in her voice unmistakably evident. She looked at me, placing a hand on my cheek and brought our lips together quickly, showing her serious nature. I smiled into the kiss, thankful that I had not been the worse lay of her life.

“What was so funny then?” I asked moments later, our faces still close together, her hand still on my cheek.

She sighed again, rolling her eyes. “This is going to sound stupid, but…” She paused, took her hand off my face, and started to squirm with it in the center of her lap, her eyes focused there. “I think you were probably one of the nicest people I’ve had sex with.”

“Really?” I was completely shocked, though I wasn’t sure what she meant exactly.

“Yeah, like, you kept asking me if I was okay. You were so gentle and kind and it wasn’t just about you. You stopped a few times just to ask if I was okay, and if there was anything you could do for me. It surprised me – not because I don’t think you’re a nice guy now, because I do, but it’s just…” She trailed off for a second, not because she didn’t know what to say – I could almost hear the words on the tip of her tongue before they finally reached there. She didn’t want to say them, but the reasoning behind it was lost on me.

“Sex changes people,” she stated hollowly, her hands starting to turn a rose shade of pink from fidgeting so hard. I reached forward and grabbed her hand, nodding solemnly.

I knew that sex changed people – I had changed a lot since Gerard and I had started a physical relationship. I was a lot more at ease with my body, and there was more security between us – as well as a sense of urgency. He had seen me naked, he had taken so much from me, and I was still giving so much to him. We were so intense, the smallest thing could break us, and the smallest thing could keep us together. I knew sex changed people, but in my case, I really hoped it was for the better. I couldn’t tell for Jasmine; all I could do was take her hand.

She stopped fidgeting once I gripped her, and she brought her eyes to me. She brushed away her emotions from before, blowing her sigh out of her bottom lip upward, flipping her bangs across her face.

“With my other boyfriends,” she started speaking slowly, finding it hard to keep eye contact, “it was always about them. They were nice guys on the surface, but when they got their dick in something, it was kind of hard to control them.” She scrunched up her face, almost comically. Her voice before hadn’t been somber by any means, but the face gesture seemed entirely out of place. We were having a serious discussion, but Jasmine hated serious things. She had experienced enough of them in her life, and didn’t want to dwell too much. If she had an ice cream with her, I was pretty sure she would have shoved it in my face, if only to break the intense gaze I held on her.

“You were really different,” she concluded, her eyes meeting mine with a smile, then glancing down again. “This is weird, I’m well aware, but no one has ever asked me if I came before. I dated my first boyfriend for a year. We had sex countless amounts of times, and never once did he ask me that. It just never seemed important.”

When she gazed at me this time, it was a little longer than a standard blink. I knew she wanted me to say something, but I was at a loss for words. I squeezed her hand instead.

“I don’t know, but it was really nice.” She shrugged her shoulders, getting rid of the topic.

“It was no problem, really,” I said, gathering up the only other words I could think of.

A lot of what she was saying was really disturbing me. I knew sex changed people, and I could understand how a guy could be so preoccupied with himself (and his dick) during sex that he forgot about the girl – I had done it a few times that night – but didn’t you remember eventually? Wasn’t it just as important for both partners to climax? It would get dull if it was consistently about one person. I knew the pleasure in diversity and change, and most of all, giving during sex. Didn’t everyone do those type of things during sex? Especially if you cared abut someone, wasn’t it common knowledge?

Apparently not.

“And you’ve only had sex with one girl!” she added at the end, trying to bypass the serious aura in the room. Unknowingly, she made me cringe internally at her slight mistake in the remark.

“Whoever you had,” she started again, still off on her tangent. “I want to thank them, because they taught you very well.”

She leaned in to hug me, and placed a chaste kiss on my lips, before she wandered away to get some more blankets to keep us warm while we slept down here.

Those brief seconds she left me alone felt like hours. My mind and body reeled, and I could hear nothing but her words inside my head. They taught you well. She had no idea who this person was, and she was congratulating them, wanting to thank them. They had taught me well. Gerard had taught me well. Hearing those words, though indirectly, come out of her mouth, made me stop right there in the middle of the world I was in. And this world that I was in at that very moment was still the same one at Gerard’s apartment. There was no distinction. They were not two different societies. There was barely one; there were so many holes and shadows and corners to hide in. I had thought that Gerard was the minority, something unreal and unattainable, as well as Jasmine; something I should ignore and not contemplate much further. I thought Sam and Travis and all the other dickweeds that I had to deal with were the constant factor in everything; the things that I could not change, because that was how everything was supposed to be. But I had been wrong. Dreadfully wrong. My friends were just asses infecting the same world and screwing it up for everyone else. Screwing it up for me. They had taken me away from my niche and let me loose in a new place with new faces. That was all that had changed. The rules and lessons still remained the same. Just because some people didn’t play by them didn’t mean we all were fucked. Just because some people were dicks and trying to hold power over me, didn’t mean that the ones who were nice suddenly were void. They still mattered; they still counted.

I looked over at Jasmine. She had brought back the blankets and was now working them over our legs and getting us ready to go to sleep in this cold basement. She had listened to me talk about art culture and other things that Gerard had taught me. He had taught me so well that I was able to convey something to another person; I was able to teach someone else, too. His lessons had not been futile, they had been necessary. He may not have taught me everything I needed to know just yet, but he wasn’t done. I hadn’t given him a chance to finish. I wasn’t ready to fly and I knew that. But I had tried anyway on that trampoline, with Jasmine, and I skipped ahead with the lessons he was trying to teach me. I wasn’t patient enough, thinking I was living in a different parallel, when I was still trapped in the same maze. The rules still applied, and I had broken the biggest one there was.

I had cheated on Gerard. And as Jasmine and I laid ourselves down to sleep that night, I cheated on him again. I kissed her and touched her all over like before, until we ended up in the same position we had been only hours previous. I had still been gentle and kind, using what he had taught me, but I was still breaking the rules. It seemed like once I broke the rules in the first place, there was no limit anymore. I could keep going and going and it wouldn’t matter. I had already screwed up, I might as well make it worth while. Artists wanted everything, and that included the bad things in life; the things they knew they shouldn’t do. I knew I shouldn’t have done this, but instead of covering up my mistake, I repeated it. I needed to remember the pain I felt, because I couldn’t forget this, no matter how hard I tried.

There were a lot of things I didn’t realize until I hit the ground. I may have thought I was trying to be ready, trying to fly on my own, but when my wings were too weak to support a body smaller inside them, and I though I had nothing to lose, there was only so much falling I could do. Now that I was on the ground, with her by my side, I realized how high I had been to begin with.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-14