REN

* * * * * *

2006

 

 

 THAT NIGHT, WHEN Della had fallen asleep and I lay staring at the ceiling beside her, a soft knock on our bedroom door told me Cassie had come to give me her present.

Glancing down at Della, part of me wanted to pretend I hadn’t heard her while the other part desperately wanted to find out what she’d give me.

It took a minute of internal warfare before I slid out of bed in just my boxers and hauled on a pair of shorts that were my cleanest pair. I debated whether to stay shirtless.

Which would seem worse? Shirtless while hoping we were about to make out, or clothed while hoping we were about to make out?

I chose modesty and grabbed a black t-shirt from the floor.

Tiptoeing toward the door, I held my finger to my lips to keep Cassie quiet as I slipped through a crack, looking back once more at sleeping Della, her hair spread all over my pillow and tiny body tucked under cosy covers.

Cassie nodded, following me silently toward the stables until I stopped by the tack room.

I didn’t know what to say because we both knew why she was here. I didn’t want to be the idiot to ask what she wanted or pretend anything was wrong. Just staring at her told me everything I needed to know.

No words were uttered as she stepped into my personal space, stood on her toes, and kissed me softly. The familiarity of kissing her now didn’t mean my heart stayed calm. Like always, it leaped and thudded as warm wetness and slippery intoxication turned my brain to mush and body to granite.

Wrapping my arms around her, I backed her into the tack room wall, pressing her tight and daring to wedge the length of my frame against hers.

She moaned into our kiss, her fingers slipping through my hair as she tugged me closer. Our heads tilted as we deepened the kiss, breathing hard, tasting, and licking—quickly losing propriety in favour of clutching hands and clawing need.

Her hands left my hair, slipping over my shoulders and running down my chest.

I gasped as her touch disappeared up the hem of my t-shirt and fingernails ran along my belly. She tugged the waistband of my shorts, murmuring, “Can I give you a birthday present?”

I could barely speak intelligently when I was of sound body and mind; asking me a question while blood pounded between my legs and my heart acted as if it was in a death metal band made me utterly unable to talk.

“I take your silence as a yes.” Slowly, she dropped to her knees. Her eyes glistened, mouth gleamed, tongue flickered over her bottom lip.

The air prickled around us, full of forbidden danger and illicit taboo. I was playing with fire. I was touching the boss’s daughter, yet really, she was the one touching me.

I trembled as she pulled my shorts and boxers down in one go, freeing me, sending a flush of embarrassment through my blood, and leaving the tight elastic of my underwear clinging to my upper thighs.

Her fingers traced the raised scar tissue from the Mclary brand that I’d never be able to remove. She looked up, eyes full of questions. Questions I would refuse to answer.

She bit her lip, deliberating.

I stopped breathing, waiting.

Then her touch moved away from the mark, slipping to cup around my length.

I jolted with mind-numbing awareness as her fingers pulsed, and her voice trickled into my ears, “Have you had a blowjob before, Ren?”

I gulped, shaking my head like an idiot. I’d always known Cassie was forward and far more worldlier than I was. I’d seen her kiss different boys if she got dropped off from school in muscle cars or dinged up 4WDs. I’d heard her father yell at her not to be so loose, and her mother to scold her on her friendship choices.

Although, nothing seemed to stop her from searching for something, trying new things, and sampling experiences she probably wasn’t ready for.

She’d even told me that I kissed differently to an old boyfriend she’d dated for two weeks a year ago. She made me feel terribly young and stupidly inexperienced.

I didn’t want to be taught these things. I wanted to be able to participate and blow her mind just like she blew mine. But despite her forwardness, she remained sweet and kind, making me worried that one day, she’d be taken advantage of.

She also worried me around Della.

Della was still too young to know what painful passion felt like, brewing constantly in your veins. She believed kisses on the mouth were for unconditional love between anyone—friend, parent, or anyone else who deserved it. She already had older views on body image thanks to Cassie in her bikinis, and I didn’t want her growing up too fast that sleeping in the same bed suddenly went from comforting to downright unpermitted.

She was a kid.

My kid.

And I wanted to keep her that way for as long as possible.

Funny, when I pictured her kissing a boy like I was kissing Cassie, red anger hazed my vision. I’d kill any boy who touched her and didn’t quite know how I’d deal with her when she entered her teenage years.

A flutter of hot breath on my upper thighs was the only warning I had.

My mind shot blank as a tongue met my hard flesh, and my knees threatened to buckle. I slammed one hand against the wall, my other landed in her hair. A grunt escaped me as her tongue came again. My head swam, and I felt nauseous and invincible and fragile and immortal all at the same time.

“I take it this is your first time?” she whispered around my length.

My fingernails dug into the wood and clenched around her hair, holding her tight, not knowing if I was allowed to pull her closer and stop her torture by making her do what she promised.

I managed some sort of non-cohesive reply before her head bent again and that intoxicating puff of air stroked my body.

“Happy Birthday, Ren Wild.” Her voice licked around me just as her mouth sealed hot and tight everywhere.

My head flopped forward.

My oxygen rushed out.

And my body jerked in bliss.

I thought of nothing but the sensation of wet heat and the pulling deep in my belly.

I’d grown wiser than I’d been a few years ago when puberty first started making my life a living nightmare. I’d learned how to shave without bleeding and how to combat unwelcome erections—most of the time.

But I’d never been comfortable making myself orgasm.

Either I was working and didn’t feel right while being paid, or I was in bed beside Della.

Animals didn’t self-pleasure, even if those dirty magazines said men did. The thought of jerking off, touching myself, and searching for that ever-wanted release didn’t seem ethical.

But right here, right now, with a girl sucking me and every single worry deleted, I didn’t care.

I was entirely in her hands.

I was her student, and I would take whatever she taught me.

Her fingers wrapped tighter around me, squeezing as her mouth slid deeper.

The pulling in my belly evolved to an outright pain, travelling in quaking lightning bolts up my thighs into my spine and crackling between my legs.

I winced as her teeth caught the tip, adding a thread of agony to an otherwise mind-numbing experience, but instead of stopping the impending snarling release, it magnified it.

“Cas—” I groaned as she grasped me tighter with one hand and dug fingernails into my ass with the other. She yanked me into her mouth as she sucked with noisy pulls.

I honestly had no control.

I couldn’t stop it even if I pulled away and ran as far from her as possible.

The release had already captured me, and as she sucked me hard, fast, and unrelenting, I came.

I jerked and bowed and blinked back stars as Cassie very generously gave me my sixteenth birthday present in the doorway of her tack room, in the very same barn where Della and I were found.

* * * * *

That first intimate moment set in motion regular meetings between Cassie and me.

Over the next year, she taught me that blowjobs could be used as a punishment as well as a reward, depending on if I’d pissed her off or pleased her.

Some weeks, we’d sneak to somewhere shadowy and private on a nightly basis. And some months, we’d return to just being friends as she entered a relationship with a new boy from school or some peacock masquerading as a cool almost-adult instead of a drop-out teenager working minimum wage at a local store.

We never went further than touching and kissing, and that was mainly because of me.

I supposed, with my unconventional childhood and learning everything by myself rather than having society or family teach what I should and shouldn’t do, meant I had a wariness that took time to accept new things.

I was still a loner, and some weeks, I struggled with humans even as nice as the Wilsons. The only person I never grew sick of was Della, and that was probably because she felt the same way as me.

That kid adored school.

She came home with constant assignments and excelled in every exam. She put her hand up for extra activities and even joined a few sport-teams.

However, when school holidays rolled around, she’d spend the first few days in bed unable to stand being around people, claiming she was exhausted and needed space.

I understood her exactly.

And having a likeminded friend let me accept that part of myself and not change…for anyone.

My reserved nature drove Cassie crazy, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Luckily, it didn’t prevent her from teaching me how to touch her…all of her…and my first experience fingering a woman had almost made me come as fast as my first blowjob had.

It was unlike anything I’d ever touched, and I become an avid learner.

It hadn’t taken long to switch Cassie’s response from indulgent smile and soft instruction to heavy breathing and scratching nails as I made her come just like she made me.

The first time I’d successfully made her unravel, my wrist and forearm held lacerations from where she’d scratched me mid-orgasm.

The next day, Della had asked what happened.

I’d blushed and blamed the barn cat who fed on the mice eating horse feed and burrowing into hay. She’d tutted and shook her head, telling me in her best parental voice to be more careful and to treat Blackie with more respect next time I tried to catch her.

Cassie had tried to laugh about it the next time we met, but that was one thing I never tolerated. She could laugh at Liam’s escapades and discuss her family, friends, and boyfriend drama with me, and I would forever listen politely.

But try to pry into my background, try to make me laugh at Della’s expense, or try to make fun of things I loved, and I shut down.

I didn’t permit her to even mention Della unless it was to regale me with stories of her quickly improving equestrian skills or ask questions that would benefit their relationship.

I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t let my guard down about Della or relax enough to give Cassie answers to the questions she constantly asked.

Questions about the place where I’d been sold.

Questions about my mother.

Questions about how I ran away with Della.

I either turned mute or changed the subject—not because I didn’t have answers but because something inside refused to give up that part of myself…to anyone.

A year after Della and I were caught sleeping in their barn, Cassie blew up at me for being quiet and elusive. I didn’t know why she called me elusive when I made sure to be friendly and polite to every single one of the Wilsons.

She’d tried to enlighten me, saying she didn’t know me at all even after a year of fooling around and seeing each other every day, that my refusal to talk about my past, that my preference to stay at home rather than head to the movies or gatherings, and the fact I didn’t give anything of myself was a drain and a bore, and frankly, she wanted someone more outgoing.

After our fight, she’d announced that we could only be friends as she was with some new Nathan or Ryan or Paul.

I didn’t mind either way.

I wasn’t jealous of her with other boys.

I wasn’t annoyed that I was passed over for what she called better alternatives. In fact, I rather liked being ignored because it meant I returned to a simpler lifestyle where my only desire was looking after Della and making sure she was as happy as I could make her.