elanie

 

 

 

 

When Jake kisses my stomach, kneeling right in front of me, I can barely stand. My knees go weak, and I want him to move lower, to find my clit with his tongue again, to taste me, to tease me, to make me come like he did in the bathroom.

But I’m afraid he’ll stop again. He’ll end it as soon as I orgasm. And even more than wanting him to lick me, I want him inside me. I want him on top of me, covering me, his skin on mine as we breathe and move together. I have to have him.

I grasp his hand so he’s standing, then turn and push the covers aside before climbing onto the bed and lying on my back with my head on the pillow.

For a moment he stands still at the side of the bed. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for, but I reach out and grasp his cock, hard as fuck, and move my hand up and down his shaft. There’s a drop of pre-cum on the tip, and I touch it with my index finger, spreading the glossy liquid out over his head.

When I meet his eyes, they’re fixed on mine. Deep. Intense. Focused on me like he’s a blind man suddenly gifted with sight.

I roll onto my side and prop myself up so my mouth is even with his cock, and I lick the cum off slowly, knowing that the slower I go, the more he wants it. This. Everything. His groan lets me know I’m right, and I smile in victory.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” He must have seen my smile, and now he pushes me on the bed, his hands on my shoulders, and gets on top of me. His thighs are on either side of mine, his hands braced on the mattress next to my head.

“It’s only teasing if I don’t plan on following through. But I could drive you really crazy by sucking you until you’re about to come, and then stopping. I’d do that over and over again until you couldn’t stand it, and you pushed me on the bed and fucked me as hard as you could.”

“Jesus, Melanie. Is that what you want to do?” His voice is filled with desire and disbelief.

“I’ll do the sucking part another time. And I’ll make you insane. But I do want you to fuck me, as hard as you can. Now.”

He growls, his eyes locked on mine. His hands push my legs open wide, and his fingers find my pussy. One, then two, make their way inside, and I close my eyes and moan in pleasure and desire.

Jake grabs a condom from the nightstand and rips open the foil before putting it on. His lips kiss my neck as he guides his cock to my entrance and, slowly, he pushes inside.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he whispers. “God, you feel so good, Melanie.”

“You too.” I cling to him as he fills me, my toes curling in ecstasy, my fingers digging into his arms.

All the way inside, he holds still for a few seconds before pulling out and thrusting in again. I writhe against him, under him, wanting the pace quicker.

But he just grins at me. “Be patient.”

Except I know he’s barely holding back. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are filled with concentration, like he’s trying hard not to go too fast too soon.

“I just… please…” I need it to be more intense. I need it to be hard. I need it to take my breath away.

“Hang on.” He pulls all the way out. “You’re so… I could come right now. Just give me a second.”

Something about him being that turned on makes me even crazier. I flip over onto my stomach, pushing my ass up against his cock.

“Melanie,” he moans, gripping my hips and teasing the lips of my pussy with his cock.

I drive back, his cock sliding into me, and he holds on to me tight, thrusting inside me farther than I thought possible. One hand holds my left hip while the other moves to my stomach, then lower until he finds my clit, massaging it in gentle circles while he fucks me from behind.

“I’m going to come,” I whisper as my body starts to tense.

His thrusts are harder but slower now, as he holds himself inside me for a split second longer before pulling out and pushing in again. His finger continues to caress between my legs, and my body gets tighter and tighter until I come hard, pushing back against him to force him inside me as far as he can go.

I contract around his cock, over and over again. Slowly he pulls out, then pushes in again, and once more and he’s coming too.

He collapses on top of me, his heart pounding against my back. His lips kiss the back of my neck, pushing my hair aside gently to caress my skin.

After a few minutes he rolls off onto his side, pulling me to him, my back against his chest. We lie like that, very still, as our hearts slow and our breathing becomes even and quiet. And then we stay like that longer.

It’s one of those moments, the kind you wish you could live in forever, because everything single thing about it is perfect. You can forget all the fucked-up events that got you there. And you can ignore all the horrors up ahead. It’s one pure perfect moment of bliss. And I wish it would never end.

“No guy has ever made me come before,” I admit. “I’ve only, you know, made myself come.”

He’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I fucking hate thinking about you with some other asshole. But I like thinking about you touching yourself.”

I laugh, and he strokes my hair.

After a while he pulls away. “I gotta clean up,” he says, getting out of bed. He walks to the bathroom, his naked ass so grabbable, his muscled thighs so gorgeous I actually sigh. I hear the bathroom door shut and the toilet flush. The water runs, then shuts off, and he comes out of the bathroom, still naked but minus the condom.

He smiles at me from the hallway. “You want something to drink?”

“A beer?” I smile broadly at him.

“I’ll get you a water.” He disappears, and I hear the fridge and then a cabinet opening and closing. He returns a few moments later with a green frosty bottle of beer and a glass of water, which he hands to me.

“Asshole.” I grin at him.

“You’re right. I am an asshole to have done what I just did with you. I don’t need to make it worse by giving you alcohol too.” But he doesn’t resist when I take the bottle from his hand and take a long drink.

“I’m old enough to make my own decisions.” I hand the beer back to him. “I’m not like a normal eighteen-year-old. I’ve pretty much been taking care of myself, you know.”

“If you call ditching school and jeopardizing your college education taking care of yourself,” he says, then his eyes widen. He expects me to lash out, I can tell.

But his words don’t make me angry, not this time. I laugh. “Asshole,” I say again, poking his shoulder. “No, seriously. I know I’ve made some mistakes lately. But I’ve been through a lot, and even though people have helped me, I’m proud of where I am now. Aside from losing the scholarship, that is.” I still feel sick about it, but it’s getting easier to talk about.

“And that wasn’t your fault. I’m still pissed that you took the blame for your friend. I don’t understand, Melanie.”

I sigh and drink a big sip of beer, crisp and clear and bubbly in my mouth. I shrug. “I don’t know how to explain it. It was stupid. I know that. I just thought, at first, that she would tell the truth. And when she didn’t, I still wanted to give her a chance to make it right. And then, when I realized she wasn’t going to come forward, I felt too… I don’t know. Defeated? Depressed? Worthless? Like I deserved to get screwed over or something.” I hand the bottle back to him.

“Because you got screwed over so many times before.” His hand strokes my cheek, and I look into his eyes, filled with compassion.

I want to cry, but I swallow hard instead. “Yeah. I never had much luck, you know? Anyway, it’s over. I just need to move forward.”

His hand on my cheek turns my face to his. “You’ve been through a lot, Melanie. It’s a wonder you’re not completely fucked up by now.”

“Who says I’m not?” I smile, but the urge to cry is still there.

“You’re not. You’re gorgeous. And smart. And mature. And funny…”

“You mean sarcastic?” I interrupt.

“That too.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over mine.

I take the beer back from him and drink a little more, raising my eyebrows at him.

“That’s enough.” He takes the green bottle from me.

“What are you? Like, my teacher or something?” I run one hand down his torso.

“Yeah, and you’re going to be in big fucking trouble if you miss the next class.” He’s kissing me again, then putting the drink on the nightstand and pushing me so I’m lying on the bed again, and his kisses are traveling down my body.

His tongue darts into my belly button, and I writhe because it tickles but also because I know what’s coming next. I open my legs, and even though I just orgasmed, the way his tongue moves over my sensitive skin lets me know the night has only just begun.

~~~~

On Monday, I can’t stop smiling. It’s stupid to be happy about going to the drug class tonight, but I can’t wait to see Jake again. I haven’t seen him since Friday night, when we fell asleep until three in the morning, then woke up so he could drive me home.

It’s the second half of April, and the day is actually kind of warm—warm enough, at least, that I don’t need a jacket and won’t be freezing later without one like usual. Instead of an old rock band shirt, I wear a tight lacy black top that’s, of course, low cut. I opt for a black skirt, kind of flouncy but short, and pull on my knee-high boots instead of my usual sneakers. I won’t be coming home after school, and I want to look good for class tonight.

At school, even though it almost physically hurts, I stop by Principal Evans’ office to let her know I’d like some information on local community colleges. A few years ago the school let the school social worker and the college counseling officer go, because funds were short, I guess. So Principal Evans does it all. And I ignore the mixture of sadness and kindness in her eyes when she tells me to stop by later and she’ll have a packet of information for me.

“Melanie!” Stacey stops me in the hallway before English class, hugging me briefly then standing back to take a look at me. “You look hot! Why are you so dressed up? Are you seeing Sam after school or something? I thought he and Robby were going to catch a movie.”

“Sam? Oh. No. I just, you know, wanted to look nice.” I shrug.

“Okay.” She squints her eyes at me for a moment before continuing. “So, how was Friday night? Dinner with Sam? I saw him over the weekend, and he didn’t say much about it. Said he doesn’t like to kiss and tell. So? What’s there to tell?”

I hope my laugh doesn’t sound nervous. “He’s nice. We went out for dinner. And there’s nothing to tell.”

“Seriously? He’s hot, Melanie. And you’re telling me nothing happened? At all?”

“Nothing, Stacey. I swear. We had dinner, then he dropped me off. We talked for a few minutes in the car. And then I went home.” Or didn’t. But I’ll never tell her where I really went. I’ll never tell anyone.

“Hmph. Well, his spring break will be over soon, so if you want to get on that, you better hurry.” She winks at me, then laughs, her blonde curls bobbing up and down. Then her face gets serious, and she takes my hands in hers. “I’m still sorry. I want you to know that, Mel. And I’m going to keep saying it, like, forever. Or until you forgive me.”

“I do forgive you, OK? It’s fine.” It’s not true, but saying it makes her smile, her glossy lips perking up as she squeezes my hands, then turns and practically skips away. She turns back once. “See you later!”

“Later.” But I say it quietly, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t hear it.

After school, I stop by Mrs. Evans’ office to pick up the packet. She’s put a ton of pamphlets and information in a manila envelope, and when she hands it to me she looks straight into my eyes. “What are you doing right now?” she asks.

“Um, working? At the antique shop?”

“And after that?” She raises an eyebrow at me.

I roll my eyes but smile at her. “I’m going to the library for the drug class.”

“You better. Don’t let me find out tomorrow that you didn’t show up, OK?”

“I promise.”

“Detective Beck is being extremely generous by allowing you to continue in the class even though you missed one session. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Thank god she doesn’t know why he’s being so generous.

“All right. I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, I also put some information in that envelope about the process to defer admittance to University of Chicago. Make sure you follow up on that, OK?”

“Yup.” I head out of school and to the shop, opening it with my key. The Harts are out of town, on a very rare trip—they never go anywhere—to the Grand Canyon. So the shop is only open in the evenings when I’m there. Honestly they probably should have just closed up for the week, since nobody comes in anyway. But I don’t mind being there. It’s nice to be alone, and to have time to think or get my homework done or rest.

Today, my mind won’t stop focusing on Jake and what happened between us on Friday night. I can’t get over how perfectly he knew how to touch me, how to make me respond. It felt like we’d known each other for years instead of mere weeks.

It’s hard to sit still; it feels impossible to wait the three hours until the class starts. I’m a bubble of energy and excitement, ready to burst with the tension I feel. How will Jake look at me? What will he say to me? What will happen after class? I think I’ll die if he just says, “See you next week, Ms. Cannon,” and lets me leave.

When it’s finally time to head over to the library, I’m filled with a mixture of fear and excitement.

Jake’s not here yet. I take my seat toward the back of the classroom and rip a sheet out of my notebook. I write, “I’m not wearing any panties,” on it. Does that sound too juvenile? I consider tearing out another sheet and writing, “I can’t wait for you to come in my mouth,” but I worry that sounds way too dirty.

The first note’s fine, I decide, folding the paper in half, then in half once more. I run my finger along the creases, making them flatter and flatter, as I anxiously wait for Jake to appear.

And when he does, I feel like I’m not prepared. I’m breathless for a moment, my head floaty and dizzy. He’s such a man, so sexy and controlled and powerful. Just seeing his gun, holstered at his side, makes me realize this isn’t a game. He’s an adult. And while technically I am too, his job, his position, the fact that he’s teaching this very class I’m in reminds me of how much more of a grownup he is than I am. And that, even though it shouldn’t, turns me on.

His jeans are faded, and today he’s wearing a Chicago Police Department T-shirt. After setting his bag down on the desk, he glances up at the classroom, scanning over everyone. For a second his eyes land on me, but in an instant they’ve moved on. My heart squeezes, and I try to remind myself that he can’t give me the smile I want here, in front of the entire class.

I take a deep breath and bring the folded paper to the front of the class. “I’m supposed to give this to you,” I mutter, dropping it on his desk and immediately heading back to my seat.

Some students are already seated, some are still straggling in, and I watch while he unfolds the note, his face completely even as he reads it. He doesn’t even look up at me.

Oh god. It was immature. What the hell was I thinking? I want to curl up in a ball and hide, but it’s too late. I just made a fool out of myself, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Jake takes a stack of photocopied handouts from his bag. “Take one and pass them on,” he says, handing the stack to Pearl, who’s taken up her seat right in front of him. Bitch.

“Of course.” I can only see the back of her head, but I’m sure she’s smiling at him, maybe biting her lip to try to be more desirable to him. I hate her, even more than last week.

“Melanie?” he says.

My eyes dart to his face. “Um, yes?”

“Come here, please.”

My heart pounds as I make my way to the front of the class. He gestures for me to stand next to him, and I do, wondering what’s going on.

“Ms. Cannon, this is from last week. I expect you to read it and answer all the questions at the end. Legibly. And turn it back in to me next week. I won’t accept it late. Understand?”

“Yes,” I whisper, taking the stapled papers from him and heading back to my desk. I slink into my seat, putting the papers down and taking the stack from the stoner kid who’s reaching over to hand it to me. I take one, then pass the rest on to the girl to my right.

When I look down at last week’s paper, the one Jake just gave me, I read what he’s written on the bottom. I can’t wait to see for myself.

~~~~

After class, Jake says, “Ms. Cannon? Can you stay after? We need to go over some things from last week.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I shrug nonchalantly as I load up my backpack.

This time when Pearl stops at his desk, smiling and wiggling her hips, I don’t even care. Because he asked me to stay. And because I’m the one who spent most of the night at his house on Friday.

When everyone’s gone, he stares at me for a second, his eyes so intense I can’t sit still under his gaze. “Don’t move,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

He leaves the room and is gone for about five minutes, during which I look around the room, trying to keep my mind occupied and my heart from jumping out of my chest. The possibilities of what tonight holds in store are endless and endlessly exciting.

“Where did you go?” I ask when he finally returns.

“Made sure everyone left the building. I’m locking up tonight. The director gave me the key.” He stands in front of the desk where I’m seated, reaching out a hand and pushing a strand of hair behind my right ear. “You make me insane, Melanie. Did you know that?” It’s a rhetorical question.

“I thought about you all weekend.”

“Yeah?” He briefly touches my lips, then backs up, leaning against his desk and staring at me. “What did you think about?”

“Friday night.” I bite my lip, hoping it’s the right answer, the one he wants to hear, the one that will make him want me even more.

“What part?” There’s a hint of challenge in his voice.

“All of it.”

“Were you lying?” he asks.

“Lying? About what?”

“The note you gave me. Is it true?”

One corner of my mouth turns up in a grin as I grab the bottom of my skirt and pull it up for a second, just long enough for him to see I was telling the truth.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his body straightening slightly, his eyes filled with heat.

I slip out of the desk and move right in front of him. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” I feel brave and sexy and confident as my hands undo his belt buckle. I push his jeans and underwear down just enough so I can free his cock, already hard.

When I kneel down in front of him he hisses out a breath.

“It’s dangerous to do this here,” he whispers.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck,” he groans as I lick him from the base all the way to the tip and swirl my tongue there for a few seconds. “No, I don’t want you to stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?” I ask with mock concern in my tone, before taking him all the way into my mouth and deep into my throat, then popping him out of my mouth again.

“Jesus, Melanie. Yes, I’m sure. I’ve never been surer of anything before in my life.”

I glance at the small dingy window in the door. The hallway’s pitch black, and I know nobody’s in the building except us. So I bend my head once more and swallow his cock, gripping the base as I move my mouth up and down, sucking as hard as I can.

“Am I doing it OK?” This time I’m not trying to tease him. I suddenly feel insecure. I’ve done this before, but I never really wanted to. And I didn’t really care if the guy liked it or not. But with Jake? I want it to be good. I want to make him feel amazing.

“You’re, uh, perfect.” His words sound strangled, like it’s hard for him to speak.

I take him in my mouth again, as far as I can again, and suck, moving my tongue along his sensitive skin as I do. Then I find a steady rhythm, fucking him with my mouth while I grip the thick base of his cock.

His hand is in my hair, his cock twitching in my mouth, my knees cold on the hard floor of the library classroom, my pussy throbbing every time he moans in pleasure. I’m doing this to him. I’m making him feel this way.

“I’m going to come,” he mutters after a few minutes. “Fuck. I’m going to come now.”

I’ve never let a guy come in my mouth, but I want Jake to. His cock hardens even more and he grasps a handful of my hair, pulling but not too hard. And then my mouth fills with his cum. Under my left hand his quad muscles tighten, and he groans, cursing under his breath.

I dare to glance up at his face, my mouth still filled with him, and see his head thrown back, his lips open in pure bliss.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand as I stand up, feeling weirdly proud and more than a little turned on. He’s already pulling up his jeans, fastening his belt and glancing at the still-dark hallway through the little square window in the door.

“Come here.” He pulls me to him, into a rough hug.

I bury my face in his worn, soft T-shirt, smelling the masculine odor of his deodorant and the scent of his skin. Already, I think I’ve committed to memory the way he smells. I think I’ll remember it forever.

He kisses the top of my head. “Melanie. Jesus. You’re amazing.”

“So you think I’m going to pass this class?”

He pulls away and laughs, looking into my eyes.

I reach up and touch his rough cheek, then run my finger down along his jaw.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think you’re going to pass this class. Now let’s go. I’m driving you home.”

As we walk outside, I wish he’d take me back to his place. I wish we could hang out all night long. But I know without him saying it that he needs to be careful, that we can’t be seen together too often. Or at all.

When we pull up to my house he says, “Turn on the porch light when you get inside.”

“It’s burned out. It’s been out for ages.” I grab the door handle.

“I fixed it a few nights ago.”

“You what?” I look curiously at him.

He nods. “Just needed a new bulb.”

“My mom didn’t mind?”

He blows out a breath. “She didn’t notice I was on the porch, Mel.” He starts to say something, then checks himself. “I knocked and she didn’t answer.”

“Thanks?” I get out of the car slowly. I turn to wave at him before going inside, where I flick on the switch. Light illuminates the falling-down porch and I smile, even though he can’t see me from all the way inside the house.

I watch him drive away, then head into the living room, where my mom barely looks up from the computer to say hello.