A Girl’s Best Friend — is tongue-tied
I pry my eyes open after she accidentally hit me in the head. No pain, I knew where I was and what had happened. We’d been dry humping on the floor between the couch and coffee table; her parents asleep upstairs.
“Do you want me to take my pants off?” I asked realising what I had on was nowhere near as comfortable as it had felt a minute ago.
Her lips pressed into a straight line.
“And change into something more comfortable?… I have clothes in my backpack,” I added.
“Yuck! That is — you seriously thought — ” She slid onto her elbows and quickly opened a strange distance between us.
I had but a split second to add, “What? Oh my God, no! I carry spare clothes just in case — for work.” I held my breath as she thought about it.
She smiled suddenly, then hit me in the chest.
The next morning the sun’s rays had already began to warm the day: it was too early to be up.
“You told her you’d brought spare clothes?!” Ami flicks at my wound.
“It’s just clothes. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Even if you didn’t,” she paused, turned her head and blew her whistle at the kids racing around the pool. The rapid sound of small wet feet stopped. “It’s a little weird to bring it up, it gives off the impression you planned for more than just dry humping — it’s just so thirsty.”
I thought about it again later that night and texted her: It’s such a long drive home from the pool. I pressed send.
I would keep a blow-up mattress in my car if it’d fit ha-ha. Send.
Anyways — I really just felt uncomfortable at the time and am sorry if I seemed like I expected more, I wasn’t looking for an opportunity to touch like that. Send.
Then I waited for a response that never came.
The day after, heat rose from the ground in waves and the sun shone brightly off the shimmering water. I had only four more hours at the pool until we closed for the weekend, and this shift couldn’t have become any more of a typical movie setting — now that the last family had left over two hours ago.
We found shade in the pool house shed.
“Sounds to me like she really means it: she’s just practicing on you.” Ami was impressed by the Instagram photos from his birthday party — she felt she’d seen enough.
“Seriously, think about it,” she stepped down from the spare lifeguard chair, and handed me my phone back.
“Could you imagine losing your virginity to a college guy?” she waved and talked around the open roller shutter window. “No premature ejaculation, he’d hit your g-spot, and he’d probably come like three times.”
Ami was right. For a month, I’d been a practice dummy and nothing more. So far I’d just been lucky… so why did I think I could compete with him — I had barely gotten my hand up her shirt.
After a few minutes of talk, the conversation wandered onto something more topical. Ami had flung herself over my hip for nothing but a candy bar I’d been hiding from her. Suddenly under this intense heat wave, her lifeguard bikini burned a neon pink and protected my skin from the heat. We looked up at each other.
I knew it was too hot the second I put my hand onto the back of her thigh.
The rest of the pool house faded out like a scene from a bad theatre production. All I needed to do was pack my bag, grab my lunch and leave for home. But after a moment this electric, I could already see the chaos that would be my room, later that night: low lights, lotion; a makeshift cum-rag. For a script that I’d spent three years tirelessly crafting in my head, somehow it suddenly lay open in front of me; waiting for me to pull her bikini bottom to the side.
“Are you gonna bark all day, lil doggie, or are you gonna bite?” Ami said, needing no lines. I was speechless. Even in this play, Tarantino was the real artist.
With the candy bar in my pocket, I picked her up and lifted her onto the bar. My head hung and watched my finger trace the contours of her cheeks, button nose and cupid's bow.
“Can I kiss you?” my eyes enthralled.
“Yes, you idiot.”
Ami reached for my back pocket and my heart skipped a beat. Which surprised me a little. She saw no need for pretentious manners when stealing back the candy bar. Her mouth showed off her trophy. I watched as she stopped a piece between her teeth, and gestured for more. I averted my eyes while I wet my tongue and wrapped my lips around it. All it took was one gentle push, and the candy was out of the way, and at the side of her cheek. Without actually swallowing she pressed her lips over mine and we plunged into a fiery kiss, where hands worked around and felt every crevasse of each other’s body.
I tangled around her bikini before I managed to find it, on my own.
At the opening of her pussy one finger accidentally slid inside, and flung her backwards onto her elbows. I bent down to investigate what I’d done to have her smiling like that. From that angle I could see everything. Her lips, her clit — and when I drew my hand back enough — her vagina. All sloppy and wet. I was surprised she let me feel around like this. But, before I could poke around further, she yanked me upright and covered my mouth with a hungry kiss — the taste overly sweet with chocolate and caramel. I left my mouth wide and let go of a low moan.
“Now do exactly that, but on my pussy,” her glazed expression surmised her pleasure.
Drunk on endorphins, I did what I was told.
My mind locked into the present and tried to burn a picture of her anatomy in my memory. With both eyes closed, I let a relaxed and widely flat tongue guide me somewhere between her clit and vagina. My head swam up, out then around, and down; gradually licking more randomly.
“Use your whole mouth,” Ami said. “Keep your head in one spot and bring your mouth in like you’re eating a peach.”
She peered down at me with another mouthful of candy, “A peach.”
I moved quickly before those tender eyes sparked into something else.
She held one hand behind my head while the other massaged the bottom of her breast. There was no affection in the way she gripped my hair; she just wanted my mouth close.
In that case, I thought to myself. There was no need to lean in or make it easy.
As soon as I didn’t seem as keen, her mood changed. Her hands caressed my head and neck, slow and gentle until (much to her surprise)… my tongue hammered quicker than a lightning bolt. Ami trembled with shock as I moved my tongue like an octopus crawling along a rock pool. She looked as if she was being jangled by invisible strings from above; the only thing she could do was drop her mouth and prepare to let out the loudest moan she could muster.
Her breathing hastened with the intense rhythm of my tongue, licking, sucking, and dragging in with one never ending movement. As I watched her eyes close fearlessly, a strong eccentric feeling spiraled from her system into mine; concentrating into an erection that tightened my swim trunks. She’d been taken over by the overwhelming feeling of relief, panic, and lust. For a second we locked eyes. I went to wet two fingers, while she searched for the seam of her bikini bottoms and yanked them far right. With the minor inconvenience out of the way, my fingers helped my mouth fuck both poles of her pussy. Together, pressures rose, and pulled every nerve tight — locking her mouth into an orgasm.
Weakened in front of me, not a single word was spoken. I heard us slowly exhale at the same time.
“Here,” she forced breathlessly and handed me last of the candy bar. I turned away.
“You’ve already eaten?” We laughed at the cliche. But believe me when I say, her raw honesty was still the best part.
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