It was still early, but I was already thinking about him. That phrase had invaded my cell phone and my mind with the eternal dilemma between what I should do and what I want to do. I answered later, after giving it a lot of thought. Not about whether to do it or not; we had already done the deed in my room exactly one week before. The issue was what time we were going to do it. Remember I live at home with my mum.
We had little time. I asked him to leave, because between his anxiety and my (well hidden) fright we were not going to get very far. But he pinched my belly while walking in my room, and when I laid down on my bed he caressed my back. I loved the sight of us in the mirror, the contrast between his fair skin and mine. I asked him to leave again, twice. He held me across the staircase and we kissed desperately. It wasn’t going to end like that; not that night.
My bed held us while we kissed in silence. With him I’ve gone back to the basics, to those steamy autumnal nights where I learned what passion was for the first time. No shouting needed, no porn-star crap. It’s just him and me, and the coldness of the fog outside. My mum was about to come home any minute, so we didn’t take our clothes off. He took his glasses and placed them on my desk, making no sound. The sight of his gesture made me feel extremely comfortable.The touch of his hands made me feel alive.
The key turning in the grid alerted us; my bra back to its place, his belt underneath my bed, the DVD on, decent behaviour mode again. I introduced him to my mum and then closed my door again. He was anxious about what she would think of us; I reminded him I’m not a child anymore, and that what I decided to do in my room only concerns me. It took me some time to convince him, but he surrender to my mouth. I just wanted to make him cum in a way he would loose the slightest shred of a doubt that mum or not, we could have fun.
I asked him whether he liked it, and he said he loved it. I asked him how he wanted me to do it, and he said he loved it just the way I was doing it. The week before I had suggested him to cum in my mouth, and he had played the no-answer card. I had to make sure he begged for it this time. And trust me, I know how.
In silence he screamed, his mouth open in pleasure, his buttocks tight, his large cock stiff inside my mouth. I made him cum, almost as a little revenge for him not trusting me. The scenario was set, the film was already playing on my DVD. I was expecting him to leave, like he did before. The week earlier he had even said that wasn’t going back to his home; I was just the fuck-stop on his day. Yet he placed himself to watch the movie, and I placed myself against him. No expectations, no disappointments. Just letting it flow.
We talked about the movie, polite, circumscribed comments that progressively lead to larger dialogues. Silence filled the room, and it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. My heart was beating clearly and I felt it through my bones. I put his hand on my chest for him to feel it. He said the rhythm was normal , and he copped a feel of my breast. I smiled, warmed by his sweet, shy move.
When he left he first explained he was going to his house, to a tea his parents had organized in honour of a couple of relatives that had come to town. As usual, I hadn’t asked any questions, so his explanations felt almost like he was trying to build a bridge between us. Only a week before he had stated that we the things we do are done just “as friends” to which I replied we’re not even friends, which is true. We kissed one more time and he gave me a little kiss on the forehead. I kissed his shoulder in reply.
I really liked him that night. I kept thinking about him till I fell asleep, smiling and tasting his flavour in my mouth. We were supposed to meet sometime this weekend, to set the record straight and do what we couldn’t do last time. But he read the text I sent too late, I had a party to go to, and the next day I was in the hospital till 10 at night. Yet I sometimes flashback to eight nights before tonight. It all seems surprisingly right.
If you’d like to write your own Whisper, we’d love to read it! The submission guidelines are here.