Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Acing our exams

Thursday, December 2, 1:30.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," I say, as I walk to the front door of the office.

"Have fun," Dom says, with a devilish grin.

I didn't tell Dom where I was going. He doesn't know about Steph's exam, or about my talk with her last night, or that we are dating exclusively now. Or at least he doesn't know from ME.

Meg and Stephanie are best friends. Evidently, Stephanie tells Meg everything about us, and Meg reports back to Dom, who she is still screwing.

I really can't stand it when people know my dating business. They tend to ask an awful lot of questions, or give unsolicited advice, or try to cock-block me when they know what I am up to. I keep everything to myself when it comes to the girls I am seeing.

I gotta speak to Steph about that. I should have already.


I pull up next to Steph's car and start reviewing a monthly sales report. It's 30 pages. I get the feeling that, if it were written properly, it could be four pages, and I wouldn't miss anything. I scribble furiously in the margin.

There's a knock at the window.

It's Steph. She's smiling brightly. Her hair is down. She looks happy for the first time in a while.

I roll down the window. She kisses me. "I ACED it!" she says.

"Awesome! Let's go!" I say.

She jumps in the car. "I sat down and tried to think of what questions he was going to ask, and I predicted them almost exactly!"

"I used to do that, too!"

"So where are we going?" she says.

"We're going to hot tub heaven," I say.

"Your house?"


"I don't have a bathing suit."



It's 106 degrees in the spa. The water bubbles and churns as if we were in a giant tea kettle.

"I have a confession to make," she says.

"You watch Dr. Phil?"

"No. Remember that sweatshirt I borrowed?"

"The Newport one?"


"The one that smells like me?"

"Yeah! All that time that we were fighting..." she pauses. "I totally shouldn't tell you this."

"Tell me."

"I slept in bed with it every night."

"So you cheated on me with my sweatshirt," I smile.


"I didn't realize you liked b.o. that much!"

"It DOESN'T have b.o. on it! It smells just like you! I love how it smells!"

The ends of her long hair hang wetly by her shoulders. Every once in a while, she sits up higher and I can see a crescent moon of breast.

I slide closer to her. She looks up at me, her face wet and dripping, her eyes wide.

"I missed you," I say.

"Me too." She is gazing at me, open-mouthed, just like a little girl.

We kiss. There's something really soothing about making out with steam rising all around you.

She puts her arms around my shoulders and straddles me. Her naked thighs are firm and tight against mine under the water.

I brush gently against her tit with my thumb, feeling her nipple go erect under my touch. I brush against it again, then cup it fully in my hand, caressing it, feeling its smoothness and heft.

Her breasts are beautiful, firm and round and perfectly symmetrical. When I look at them I know that Pam Anderson and Carmen Electra got it exactly wrong, with their big, round, fake-looking basketballs.

I fondle both of her breasts gently, then one, then the other, gently squeezing her nipples between my fingers.

She moans as she kisses me, raising her body up a little higher so her tits are exactly at mouth level.

I look up at her. She is smiling wryly down at me.

I flatten my tongue and brush it over her right nipple. I look up again. Her eyes close. She's got both of her hands behind my head, pulling me tightly against her.

I lick her again, holding her other boob in my hand. I swirl my tongue around her areola without ever touching the nipple. I've made girls come this way before.

Her breathing is short and shallow. I switch to the other breast and lick it, slowly, bottom to top, feeling her nipple go bullet-hard.

She is trembling. I look up at her again. I open my mouth to speak and realize that I am breathing just as heavily as she is.

I don't like fucking underwater. It doesn't feel like anything to me.

"I think it's time to go inside," I say.

"It's TOTALLY time to go inside," she says, softly.

We fling our wet, naked bodies on the first piece of furniture in our way, a sectional sofa. She straddles me again, grinding forwards and backwards against my hard rod.

I can feel her lubricating as she rubs against me, slicking my cock with her juices. She pulls her hips forward, so that the tip disappears under her, then back again, her labia peeking out from a tuft of short pubic hair.

She plants her fists on my chest, bending over slightly, her tits dangling invitingly above me. She slides her hips forward, in slow motion.

Pop! I slip inside her.

She immediately hits a rhythm, sliding her hips seamlessly back and forth, her breasts heaving.

A quivering moan escapes her lips; her eyes are closed, and her fists push harder against my chest.

This girl is going to have a HUGE orgasm.

Her breathing gets louder and faster as she fucks me more urgently. I feel her vaginal muscles spasm wildly. She tips her head back, fully in the throes of pleasure.

She collapses down on me, pressing our naked, still-wet bodies together. I pull out of her and slip my cock between us. "Don't forget about me," I smile.

"I won't."

She rubs her pussy against me again, and as I feel her heat and slipperyness I know that I am totally gone. I don't try to hold it back. I couldn't anyway.

Cum explodes everywhere, mostly on me. Gross? Kinda, but as long as I don't hit myself in the face, I'm ok.

She laughs a little as she gazes at me, still laying on top of me, her legs bent at the knees, her feet rocking slowly in the air. Her eyes search my face, as though she is memorizing every detail of this moment. She reminds me of that Christian dude on the album cover. She is at peace. I am too.

Just then, the realization stabs me in the gut like a 12-inch machete, waking me from the blissful afterglow.

Holy shit, I think. I fucking barebacked her!