Wrong Thing by Barry Graham

time. He would have gone on licking, but she reached for him and pulled him up to lie beside her.
    â€œThat was cool,” she said, and the Kid laughed.
    â€œWhat’s funny?” she said.
    â€œYou.”
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œI don’t know. You just are.”
    They lay cuddled together, on their sides, her back to him. She could feel how hard he was. “You got a condom?” she asked, pressing her ass into him.
    â€œNo. I think my roommate might. I’ll ask him.” But, a second or two later, he moved his body a little bit lower, and his cock slid into her cunt.
    â€œDon’t,” she said, but as she said it she reached back, grabbed his ass and pulled him deeper into her.
    â€œWant me to stop?” he said.
    â€œYou should stop.”
    â€œDo you want me to?”
    â€œ. . . No.”
    He held her by the hips and fucked her hard. “Don’t come in me,” she moaned.
    â€œI won’t.”
    He pulled out of her and came all over her ass and lower back. She continued to moan, more quietly now, as he rubbed the thick come into her skin and into her asscrack. Then he put his arms around her and held her close, kissing her ear and cheek.
    â€œDid you like that?” she said.
    â€œYeah. Did you?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œSorry I didn’t make you come.”
    â€œYou made me come twice.”
    â€œI mean just now.”
    â€œThat’s cool. I liked it anyway.”

    It was around ten o’clock when they got out of bed. Vanjii asked if she could take a shower, and the Kid told her to go ahead. He asked if she was hungry, and she said she was. The Kid said he’d make some risotto. She went into the bathroom. The Kid went to the kitchen and put some rice in a rice cooker. Then he went to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Hey, can I come in?”
    â€œYeah,” she called to him.
    He opened the door. She was naked, sitting on the toilet, taking a piss. She grinned at the Kid. He went over to her, knelt in front of her and kissed her. Everything about her turned him on. He didn’t have any toilet fetish that he knew of, but even the sight of her sitting there pissing excited him, and so did watching her wipe herself with a piece of toilet paper, flush, stand up, get in the bathtub, turn the shower on . . .
    She closed the shower curtain. He opened it, got in there with her, closing the curtain behind him. He looked at the whiteness of the shampoo in the darkness of her hair. He put his arms around her. “No getting us all hot, okay?” she said. “I need to get to work.” But when they washed each other and she was soaping his hard cock with her hand, it was too much for her, and she insisted that he fuck her right there in the shower. Then they rinsed themselves off in a hurry, wrapped themselves in towels, went back to the bedroom and put their clothes on.
    In the kitchen, she watched him cook. He chopped an onion and a few slices of bacon, then cooked them together in a big skillet. Then he added the rice, stirring it so the bacon fat would get mixed in. He kept on stirring it as he added hot chicken stock, a cup at a time. “This is the important part,” he told her. “You don’t want to put a lot of stock in all at once, just enough to keep the rice from getting burned. You let it get absorbed into the rice, then you put in a little more.”
    â€œCool. Who showed you how to do that?”
    â€œNobody. I read it in a book. Do you like to cook?”
    â€œI guess. But I always use the same recipe.”
    â€œWhat recipe?”
    â€œYou open the can, pour it in the pot and put it on the stove.”
    The Kid laughed. “I can’t eat stuff like that.” He poured some more stock into the skillet and kept stirring. “You can’t get stuff like this out of a can. Wait and see.”
    When she tasted it, she didn’t argue. “This is awesome,” she