so we have to stop for a moment while Wes turns on the engine and the air-conditioning. Then it begins pouring outside, which makes fooling around in the trunk of our cozy vehicular sanctuary all the more exhilarating.
After three hours of nonstop kissing and feeling up, I tell Wes I need a breather, so we lie in each other‘s arms in contented silence. I know this is only our second night together, but I can‘t stop thinking about sex, what it would feel like. It‘d be nice to have some sort of climax to all this physicality, if only to feel like we‘re finished, like we‘d done something whole and complete. But that would be a huge step from where we are now. Sex still feels like a fantasy, something that couldn‘t actually happen.
―So, what are you thinking about?‖ I ask him.
―I‘m thinking that I love your voice.‖
Just say you love me! I’m bursting to say it, but I want you to do it first!
―My voice?‖ I ask.
He nods. ―Now that SQ‘s over and you can stay up later, maybe we can talk on the phone at night. It‘d be nice to hear you, not my keyboard.‖
―Wow, the telephone—what an archaic concept,‖ I say sardonically. Then I smile at him. ―You know what I‘m thinking?‖
―What?‖
―That I love…your anatomy. It‘s perfect.‖
―Nah.‖ Wes grins.
―Yes!‖ I sit up and look at him. ―In class, we‘re always learning about the body in terms of, you know, breathing, eating, sleeping—‖
―Sweating, barfing, farting,‖ Wes interrupts, laughing.
I laugh too, though this is the second time tonight I‘m reminded of bratsitting.
―Yes, all that too. But seriously, if you think about it, the body was made to show affection.
Look.‖ I point to his head. ―Hair for me to run my fingers through.‖
Next I point to his baby blues. ―To make eyes at me.‖
I continue to work my way down Wes‘s body.
―Your lips, to kiss me with. Your teeth, to bite me with. Your neck, for me to bite. Your arms, to hold me; your fingers, to caress me…‖
I skip over his crotch and go right down to his feet. ―To push the gas pedal with when you come by to pick me up. See, you‘re perfect!‖
Wes grins even wider and says, ―Dom…I still can‘t believe this is happening.‖
I can feel my stomach turn in on itself. I swear, I‘ve gotten more highs this week than during my entire life up until Wes. ―Well, let me try to convince you of the reality of the situation.‖
I snuggle under him and we resume kissing. I can feel his penis pressing through his jeans up against my inner thighs. If we were naked, we‘d have been close to having sex missionary style.
Almost without thinking about it I drag my right hand down his chest and abdomen unt il my fingers are over his jeans just below his belly button. Then I start walking my fingers down even farther. He‘s holding his breath and his heart is racing, sending vibrations into my own chest. I feel dizzy and light-headed, like every cell in my body is pushing my arm that final inch. I‘m just about to rest my hand on his crotch when a thunderous bang echoes through the car.
Did he just ejaculate?
I pull my hand away from Wes‘s stomach as he leaps up, bumping his head on the fuzzy gray ceiling.
―What the hell was that?‖ he asks, looking to either side of him.
―Um, wasn‘t that you?‖ I figured he convulsed and kicked the trunk door when I touched him. I barely grazed his jeans, but Amy warned me that guys our age can come really easily.
―No,‖ he whispers sharply. ―It was from outside.‖
I slowly lift my head and see the dark outline of a man against the back windshield, his fist pressed into the glass.
―Oh shit, oh shit! Someone‘s there!‖ I shriek, my heart shooting out of my chest.
―Relax, stay calm!‖ Wes says firmly as he reaches for his polo, which I had rolled up to use as a pillow.
I can see the headlines:CARJACKER KILLS HALF-NAKED TEENAGERS.
Wes pulls on
After three hours of nonstop kissing and feeling up, I tell Wes I need a breather, so we lie in each other‘s arms in contented silence. I know this is only our second night together, but I can‘t stop thinking about sex, what it would feel like. It‘d be nice to have some sort of climax to all this physicality, if only to feel like we‘re finished, like we‘d done something whole and complete. But that would be a huge step from where we are now. Sex still feels like a fantasy, something that couldn‘t actually happen.
―So, what are you thinking about?‖ I ask him.
―I‘m thinking that I love your voice.‖
Just say you love me! I’m bursting to say it, but I want you to do it first!
―My voice?‖ I ask.
He nods. ―Now that SQ‘s over and you can stay up later, maybe we can talk on the phone at night. It‘d be nice to hear you, not my keyboard.‖
―Wow, the telephone—what an archaic concept,‖ I say sardonically. Then I smile at him. ―You know what I‘m thinking?‖
―What?‖
―That I love…your anatomy. It‘s perfect.‖
―Nah.‖ Wes grins.
―Yes!‖ I sit up and look at him. ―In class, we‘re always learning about the body in terms of, you know, breathing, eating, sleeping—‖
―Sweating, barfing, farting,‖ Wes interrupts, laughing.
I laugh too, though this is the second time tonight I‘m reminded of bratsitting.
―Yes, all that too. But seriously, if you think about it, the body was made to show affection.
Look.‖ I point to his head. ―Hair for me to run my fingers through.‖
Next I point to his baby blues. ―To make eyes at me.‖
I continue to work my way down Wes‘s body.
―Your lips, to kiss me with. Your teeth, to bite me with. Your neck, for me to bite. Your arms, to hold me; your fingers, to caress me…‖
I skip over his crotch and go right down to his feet. ―To push the gas pedal with when you come by to pick me up. See, you‘re perfect!‖
Wes grins even wider and says, ―Dom…I still can‘t believe this is happening.‖
I can feel my stomach turn in on itself. I swear, I‘ve gotten more highs this week than during my entire life up until Wes. ―Well, let me try to convince you of the reality of the situation.‖
I snuggle under him and we resume kissing. I can feel his penis pressing through his jeans up against my inner thighs. If we were naked, we‘d have been close to having sex missionary style.
Almost without thinking about it I drag my right hand down his chest and abdomen unt il my fingers are over his jeans just below his belly button. Then I start walking my fingers down even farther. He‘s holding his breath and his heart is racing, sending vibrations into my own chest. I feel dizzy and light-headed, like every cell in my body is pushing my arm that final inch. I‘m just about to rest my hand on his crotch when a thunderous bang echoes through the car.
Did he just ejaculate?
I pull my hand away from Wes‘s stomach as he leaps up, bumping his head on the fuzzy gray ceiling.
―What the hell was that?‖ he asks, looking to either side of him.
―Um, wasn‘t that you?‖ I figured he convulsed and kicked the trunk door when I touched him. I barely grazed his jeans, but Amy warned me that guys our age can come really easily.
―No,‖ he whispers sharply. ―It was from outside.‖
I slowly lift my head and see the dark outline of a man against the back windshield, his fist pressed into the glass.
―Oh shit, oh shit! Someone‘s there!‖ I shriek, my heart shooting out of my chest.
―Relax, stay calm!‖ Wes says firmly as he reaches for his polo, which I had rolled up to use as a pillow.
I can see the headlines:CARJACKER KILLS HALF-NAKED TEENAGERS.
Wes pulls on
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