My Girlfriend Has a Slutty Side Ch. 02

Hello! This is Chapter 2 of "My Girlfriend Has a Slutty Side". You can definitely hop in here and read the scenes in a vacuum but I believe starting from the beginning will help provide a lot for their story.

I wrote quite a bit of this story before I ever even thought about publishing Chapter 1 so I should have more chapters out at a semi-frequent rate as I revise and edit things.

Final note, Chapter 1 was around 4k words and for some reason, I thought 4k words was equal to about six pages on this site and in reality it's only a page and a quarter. Chapter 2 is around 10k words and I hope the additional length allows y'all to sit with these characters and scenes a bit longer! I plan to have future chapters be around the same length. Enjoy!

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On Thursday evening I take Alyssa to the overlook by the lake which will be the same stretch of gravel and grass where the whole town would pack in for the Fourth of July lights show next month. I pick up ice cream on the way, a cone for each of us, and we sit on the hood of my car watching the sun go down over the water.

She kicks her legs against the bumper and talks about her classes last semester, one story tumbling into the next, and I sit there and let her, watching her light up in the last of the gold rays. When she finishes she goes quiet. She picks at the edge of her cone.

"Can I tell you something?" she asks. "About what I said the other night. About guys not kissing me after."

My stomach tightens. "Sure. You don't have to, though."

"I want to." She takes a breath. "It's kind of embarrassing. There was a guy last fall, a few months into my first semester. Jake. We had a couple of gen-ed courses together, but I never really talked to him until I ran into him at a bonfire. We got to talking. We ended up at his place."

I nod. I don't trust myself to say anything.

"I hadn't really done anything before that. I'd made out with guys, but that was it. I was nervous, so I told him, and he was like, 'I'll show you.'" She rolls her eyes, but her cheeks had gone pink. "So he sat on the edge of his bed, took his pants off and told me exactly what to do. Slower. Use your hand. Less teeth. Look up at me. Like it was a lesson. And I was so eager to do it right that I just... did everything he said."

I grip the edge of the hood. I hate this guy. I also, to my own quiet horror, am painfully horny, picturing her on her knees for someone else, taking instructions with that same focused, eager expression she got when she wanted something. I shove the image away and try to stay present.

"And then when he finished," she says, quieter now, "I was so proud of myself. I went up to kiss him, and he turned his head. He said, 'ew, you just swallowed my cum.' Like it was disgusting. Like I was disgusting. Like he hadn't just told me to swallow." She laughs, but it was thin. "And I felt so stupid. So I just said okay and went home."

"Alyssa."

"It wasn't just him. There were two other guys after that, later in the spring semester. Same thing. They wanted me to do it. They liked how good I was. But when I went to kiss them after, they'd pull away like I was dirty. I kind of stopped expecting anything else." She glanced up at me. "So when you kissed me in the car, right after... I don't know. It caught me off guard."

My chest was tight. I set my ice cream on the roof, took her cone out of her hand, and set it next to mine. Then I turned her toward me.

"He was an idiot," I say. "They all were. You're not disgusting. You're the hottest girl I've ever met, and I'm not saying that because of what happened in the car." I hesitate. "Okay. I'm not only saying it because of that."

She laughs, a real one this time, that smile breaking all the way open.

"I'm serious," I say. "I'm going to kiss you after. I'm going to kiss you during. I'm going to kiss you whenever I want, because I like kissing you."

"Yeah?" she whispers.

"Yeah."

I lean in and kiss her, slow and deep. Her hand slides up into my hair. I feel her shiver against me as I pull her onto my lap, right there on the hood, the last of the sunlight fading off the lake. When we finally break apart she is flushed and breathless, and she rests her forehead against mine.

"Okay," she says. "That's a pretty good start."

"Just a start?"

Alyssa bites her lip. A slow, dangerous smile spreads across her face. "You still owe me, Cory. I didn't forget."

I don't say anything. I just slide off the hood, take her hand, and pull her down with me.

"Where are we going?" she asks, laughing, as I open the trunk and dig out the old plaid blanket my mom kept back there for emergencies. I didn't have a good answer, so I lead her around to the far side of the car, where the grass sloped toward the water and the whole world disappeared behind a couple of doors and a sedan. The overlook is empty. The Fourth of July crowds aren't due for another month. Right now it is just us.

I spread the blanket on the grass. Alyssa stands there in her pale yellow sundress with her arms crossed, biting her lip, watching me do it.

"You're really going to do this out here?" she asks.

"You said I owe you."

"I did say that," she admits, and sits down on the blanket.

I kneel in front of her and kiss her. Slow at first, the way I'd kissed her on the hood, until her hands find the front of my shirt and pull me closer. I ease her onto her back and follow her down, propped on one arm, kissing along her jaw and down her neck. She smells like sunscreen and vanilla. She tilts her head back to give me more room, and a soft little sound escapes her when my teeth graze the spot just below her ear.

My right hand travels down her side, over the curve of her hip, and find the hem of her dress. I let my fingers drift up her thigh, slowly, pushing the fabric with them. Her breathing changes. By the time my fingertips reach the inside of her thigh, her legs part for me.

"Cory," she whispers.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I don't," she says quickly. "Don't stop."

I slide my hand between her legs and cup her over her panties. White cotton, a tiny bow at the waistband, already damp. I feel the heat of her through the fabric. I drag two fingers up the center of her, slow, pressing just enough to trace the shape of her, and her hips twitch off the blanket.

"You're already so wet," I say against her ear.

"You've been kissing me for like ten minutes," she says, a little breathless. "What did you expect?"

I smile and circle her clit through the cotton, feeling the damp spot spread under my fingertips. Her hand grabs my wrist, not to stop me, just to hold on. Her eyes close and her lips part, and every time I press a little harder, her breath catches in her throat.

"Lift up."

She did. I hook my fingers into the waistband and slide her panties down her legs, and she kicks them off one ankle. She is completely bare, glistening in the fading light, and I take a second just to look at her.

"You're staring," she whispers, half teasing, half nervous.

"Yeah. I'm not going to stop."

I lay my hand back on her, skin to skin this time, and run my middle finger up her slit. She is soaked. Slick and hot and so soft it makes my head spin. I coat my finger and bring it to her clit, as she gasps. I start slowly, the way I had in the car, only now I could give her all of my attention. I watch her face. I watch the way her brow furrows and her mouth falls open and her toes curl against the blanket.

"Right there?" I ask.

"Yes. Yes, just like that."

I keep the pace steady, then let my finger slip lower. I circle her entrance. She rocks her hips up into my hand, and I insert my finger inside her. It slides in to the knuckle with no resistance at all, and she lets out a long, shaky moan I feel all the way down to my dick.

"Oh my god." she exclaims.

"Good?"

"Mhm."

I ease my finger in and out, slowly, feeling her tighten around me every time I pull back. She rocks her hips to my rhythm so I add a second finger. She gasps again, louder this time, and her hand flies up to cover her mouth.

"Don't," I say, gently pulling it away. "There's nobody here. I want to hear you."

She swallows and nods. I curl my fingers upward, searching, and I know the moment I find it because her whole body jolts and she lets out a cry that carries out over the water.

"Fuck. Right there."

I stroke that spot in a slow, steady rhythm, thumb pressing her clit at the same time, and she comes undone. Her hips lift into my hand. Her thighs shake. She whimpers, little broken sounds that keep climbing, and she is so wet I could hear it. I focus on the soft, slick sound of my fingers moving in and out of her.

I'm not finished. Not even close.

I pull my fingers out, and she makes a small, frustrated noise that almost makes me laugh. I slide down the blanket, settle on my stomach between her legs, and slip her dress up higher over her hips. I kiss her inner thigh. Then a little higher. Then higher. I trail kisses up her leg until I feel the heat radiating off her, until her scent fills my head.

"Cory," she breathes. "You don't have to--"

"I want to."

I lower my mouth and lick her, one slow stripe from bottom to top, flat tongue, as Alyssa's whole body arches off the blanket.

"Oh" she moans.

She tastes incredible. Warm and slightly salty, and I can't get enough of it. I do it again, and again. I make slow, savoring licks that gather her wetness and finish with a little flick against her clit. Every time, she gasps. Every time, her thighs tremble against my shoulders. Her fingers find my head and get tangled in my hair. She stops trying to be quiet at all.

I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue in tight, slow motions. I try different rhythms, letting her body tell me what it wants. I flick side to side and her breath hitches. I press flat and drag upward and she moans. I close my lips around her clit and suck, gently at first and she lets out a cry that sounds like my name and a swear word all at once.

"Oh god. Oh my god. Don't stop. Don't stop." she says.

I slide two fingers back inside her while my mouth stayed on her clit. The feeling of her tightening around me and the taste of her on my tongue all at once was almost too much. I curl my fingers to hit that spot again and let my tongue flick in a quick rhythm, and Alyssa goes wild.

Her hips grind against my face. Her hands pull my hair. She babbles now, half words and half sound.

"That's it, right there, I'm gonna- oh fuck, I'm so close."

Her thighs clamp around my head and I hold on, keeping the pace exactly the same, not changing a single thing, because I had never wanted to make anyone feel this good in my entire life.

"I'm cumming," she cries. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming--"

She breaks. Her back arches off the blanket and her whole body goes limp. Her pussy clenches around my fingers in hard, fluttering pulses, as a long, high moan rips out of her throat. I stay with her. I slow down but I don't stop, licking her gently through every wave until her hips finally sag and her grip on my hair goes loose.

"Okay," she gasps. "Okay, okay. Too much. Too sensitive."

I ease my fingers out and press one last soft kiss to her clit that makes her shudder. Then I crawl back up beside her. My chin is wet. My lips are wet. I feel ridiculously proud of myself.

Alyssa opens her eyes and looks at my face. For a second something crosses her expression. Almost like a flicker of the same uncertainty I saw earlier on the hood. I see it, and I knew exactly what it was. I start to wipe my mouth with my hand.

She catches my wrist.

"Don't," she says.

She pulls me down and kisses me. She kisses me hard, without any hesitation, her tongue sliding into my mouth, tasting herself all over me. She makes a low, appreciative sound in her throat and wraps her arms around my neck and keeps kissing me, and she finally pulls back.

"That was amazing," she whispers.

"Really?"

"Really. I'm not even kidding. I've actually never had a guy go down on me before."

I grin so wide it hurt.

She is still catching her breath when she reaches down and presses her palm against the front of my jeans. I am rock hard. I've been rock hard for twenty minutes.

"My turn," she says.

"Alyssa, you don't have to. You just--"

"I want to."

She pushes me onto my back and unbuckles my belt with practiced fingers. I lift my hips to help her tug my jeans and boxers down. My dick springs free, flushed and aching, and she gives it a slow, appreciative look before she wraps her hand around the base.

She doesn't tease this time. She takes me straight into her mouth, warm and wet and tight, and my head drops back onto the blanket. She works her hand and her mouth together the way she did in the car, her tongue swirling around the head, her hand twisting on the way down. I've been on edge for so long it was almost embarrassing. I look down and find her looking up at me, those big brown eyes locked on my face while her lips slide up and down my shaft.

"Fuck, Alyssa. I'm not going to last." I say.

She hums around me in answer and takes me deeper, and I feel the back of her throat. My hips jerk. My hand grips the back of her hair and I push her down. She moans and opens her throat wider for me. It takes less than five minutes. I gasp out a warning and she doesn't pull away. I cum in her mouth in long, hard pulses while she keeps her lips sealed around me, eyes locked on mine, and I hear her swallow, once, twice, until she takes everything.

When she slides up my body I didn't wait. I pull her face to mine and kiss her, right away, deep and slow, tasting myself and her together on her tongue. She melts against me.

________________________________________________________________We lie on the blanket in the dark, her dress bunched around her waist and my jeans still around my knees, but neither of us care. The stars come out over the lake. Alyssa's head on my chest, and my fingers trail lazily up and down her bare hip. For a while, neither of us say a word.

"That was incredible," I finally say.

"Mm-hmm," she agrees, sleepily. Then, after a moment: "Can I say something without you thinking I'm weird?"

"I already think you're weird. It's part of the charm."

She smacks my chest, but I can feel her smile. "It's about Jake. And the others."

My heart skips.

"You don't have to keep telling me about that."

"I know. But I want to. It's just... earlier, I told it like it was all bad. And it wasn't. Not all of it." She props her chin on my chest so she could look at me. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," I say. "Yeah. Tell me."

She takes a breath and looks up at the stars. "It wasn't just one time with Jake. It was a good amount. Between October and Christmas. He'd text me around ten or eleven at night, just a simple 'you up?'. And I'd sneak out of my parents' house and meet him where he was parked. Then I'd get in his car."

"Every time?"

"Almost. Once at his place, when his parents were gone. Once in the parking garage at the mall, which was so stupid. Someone could've walked by any second." She laughs quietly. "When it was in his car, he always did the same thing. He'd put his seat back, and I'd lean over the center console, and he'd hold my ponytail. Like, wrap it around his hand. And he'd tell me what to do the whole time. Slower. Now faster. Look at me. And I'd look at him, and..." She pauses. "That's the part I didn't tell you. The way he looked at me."

"How did he look at you?"

"Like he couldn't help it," she says softly. "Like he was totally out of control. His hands would shake a little. His breathing would get all ragged. He'd say my name, really low, and he'd swear, and he'd say things like fuck, you're so good at this, and don't stop. And I remember thinking, I did that. Me. I'm the one making him like that." She goes quiet for a beat. "I know he was kind of a jerk about the kissing. But in that moment, I felt so wanted. Like the most desired girl in the world. It's a really powerful feeling."

I don't say anything. I was afraid to. My dick starts to stir again against her hip, and I'm hoping she doesn't notice.

"And the other two guys were kind of the same. Devin, one of their names, was at a house party in February. We got a little flirty and he asked me to follow him so I did. Ended up in the bathroom on the second floor. I was on my knees on the tile, and he was leaning against the sink, and he had one hand on the back of my head. He only lasted about two minutes. He was so turned on he couldn't even talk. He just kept whispering 'oh my god, oh my god.' And then he zipped up and left, and I just knelt there for a second thinking, wow." She laughs. "Then I went back to the party with completely soaked panties and no one to help out."

"Alyssa--"

"And Chris, the other one, was just twice. He was Devin's friend, and he was a loud one. When he finished he practically shouted. I was so embarrassed, but also kind of proud." She shrugs against my chest. "I know how it sounds. None of them were nice to me afterwards. But the part where they wanted it, wanted me, like they'd fall apart if I stopped... I loved that part. I still think about it sometimes. Sometimes whenever I'd come home from hanging out with Jake, I'd get myself off in my car in the driveway just thinking about how they looked."

The silence stretches. My heart pounds so hard she can probably hear it. My brain is a mess of jealousy and protectiveness and something else, something hot and unfamiliar that I really did not know what to do with. Something that makes my dick throb every time I pictured her on her knees in some bathroom with a guy shaking above her.

Alyssa goes still. Then she shifts her hip, very slightly, and I know she feels it.

"Cory," she says slowly. A smile spreads across her face. "Are you hard again?"

My face burns. "Maybe."

"From me telling you that?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I feel like I shouldn't like it. I hate that some of those guys were assholes. I just... I can't stop picturing it."

Her eyes go wide, and then she grins. "Oh my god. You like hearing about it."

"Is that weird?"

"A little," she says, and rests her chin on her hand. "But I like telling you. So I guess we're both weird." She pauses, her voice drops to something low and playful. "Do you want to hear about the bathroom one again? There's a lot I left out."

I swallow. My whole body tingles.

"Yeah," I say. "Tell me everything."

________________________________________________________________Alyssa settles her head back down on my chest so I can't see her face, and I get the feeling that is on purpose.

"It was at this guy Marcus's house. His parents were in Florida for the week, so it was basically a free-for-all for alcohol. I only went because my friend Kayla begged me." She takes a breath. "After the incident with Devin, he left the bathroom and I stayed there on the tile for a full minute. My knees hurt. My jaw was sore. I was so turned on I was shaking. I stood up and looked in the mirror and my lips were swollen and my mascara was smudged and I looked exactly like what I'd just done."

My hand stops caressing her hip. She doesn't seem to notice.

"I went back downstairs and I could not think straight. Kayla was telling me some story about her ex and I just kept nodding and not hearing a word. Every guy in the room, I'd look at him and think, could it be you? Because I was so wound up. I wanted to have sex so badly. And I wasn't a virgin at that point, Jake did take my virginity but we only tried the one time. Then, I had very okay sex with this guy this guy in one of my classes after the thing with Jake ended but like I said, it was very okay and I knew it could be better.

"But you didn't want to just grab a random guy," I say.

"Right. I wasn't going to throw myself at someone. I have standards, kind of." She laughs. "But my body didn't get the memo. Somebody turned the music up and everyone started dancing in the living room, and I just decided I didn't care. I took a few more sips of the jungle juice and went to dance."

"You were so horny you went to... dance?"

She laughs, "Yes but well, I let loose. There was some guy who was a friend of Marcus's, and he came up behind me while I was dancing and put his hands on my hips. Normally I'd elbow a guy in the ribs for that." She pauses. "Instead I pressed back against him. And when his hands slid down and squeezed my ass, I let him."

My dick twitches against my leg.

"He kept grinding against me for like a whole song. I could feel exactly how into it he was. And I just... let him think he was getting somewhere. And then at the end of the song I turned around, looked him dead in the eye, and said, 'that's all you get.' And walked away."

"You just left him standing there?" My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to.

"Yep. He looked like he'd been hit by a truck." She giggles. "And I kept doing it. I danced with some other guy, and a girl who kept cheering us on. I let a different guy put his hand on my thigh on the couch, way higher than I'd normally allow, and then I moved his hand away and kissed him on the cheek like I was doing him a favor. I bent over to pick up my phone right in front of three guys on the arm of the couch, just to feel them looking. There was a guy staring at my chest across the room, and I held his eye and pulled my neckline down about an inch, just to watch his face."

"Alyssa."

"I know. I know." She lifts her head to look at me, a little sheepish, a little proud. "I was so turned on, and it felt so good to have all those people wanting me. And nobody got anything from me. I was the one deciding."

"That's..." I don't have a word. "That's really hot."

"Yeah?" She lays her cheek back on my chest and her fingers trace a slow circle over my stomach. "By like two in the morning the party was dying. People were leaving or passed out on couches. I was looking for my jacket, and I walked into the kitchen, and there was Devin. Getting a glass of water."

I hold my breath.

"We both just froze. He looked at me and I looked at him, and neither of us said anything for maybe five seconds. It felt like five minutes. And then he goes, 'hey.' And I go, 'hey.' Like we hadn't just..." She laughs quietly. "'Good party.' 'Yeah, it's good.' 'Cool.' It was so stupid. But I could see it all over his face. He was looking at my mouth. I watched his throat move when he swallowed. And I know he could see it on mine too."

"What did he say?"

"He asked if I was driving home. I said 'No, I'm here with Kayla and we're about to leave', and he said I shouldn't, that it's late, and there's a guest room up stairs with a big enough bed. That I could take half." She pauses. "He said it so casually. But he wasn't looking at me when he said it. So I said 'okay'. I went to find Kayla and told her to go and head home and I'll see her later. I remember her giving me a devilish grin and telling me to stay safe and that she expects details."

Her voice lowers, slower, like she was back in the room.

"We went upstairs. The hall was dark. He didn't say anything. He just walked, and I followed. The guest room seemed average sized but he was right, it was a large bed. A king size if I had to guess. He closed the door behind us, and before I could even say anything his hand was on the small of my back and he was steering me toward the bed."

"He starts, just like that?"

"Yeah. He sat me down on the edge of the mattress and stood over me. And he said, 'arms up.'"

She says it in a low, flat voice, a little impression of him, and something went through my whole body.

"I put my arms up. He pulled my top over my head. He unhooked my bra with one hand, really smoothly, like he'd done it a hundred times, and then he said, 'stand up.' I stood. He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them off with my panties, all at once, and then I was just standing there naked in front of him and he was still fully dressed."

I'm hard. Completely hard again, and I'm pretty sure she can feel it against her hip. She keeps going.

"He looked at me for a second. And then he pulled his shirt off and got out of his jeans and boxers, and he was already hard, and he sat down on the edge of the bed and said, on your knees."

"And you did."

"I did. I couldn't have said no if I wanted to. I wanted to." Her fingers curl against my chest. "I was still so wired from earlier. And this felt exactly like what I wanted. What I needed. I don't know why but I just knew he was going to take good care of me. I got down on the carpet between his legs and I took him in my mouth, and this time he wasn't in a rush. He put his hand on the back of my head, really gently, not pulling, and he said, 'slower.' So I went slower. He said, 'use your tongue on the underside.' I did. He said, 'look at me.'"

"Look at him," I repeat.

"Yeah. And I looked up at him and he was watching me with these dark eyes. And he said, 'good girl.' That was all it took. I reached in between my legs and touched myself. That was the wettest I've ever been. Well, until today at least."

The words hit me like a hand around my throat.

"I felt like I was melting," Alyssa whispers. "Just from that. I adjusted my legs to get better positioning and I could feel my wetness cloying to my thighs. He let me do it for like five minutes, telling me exactly how he liked it, and I did everything he said, and it felt amazing to do something right. And then he pulled me off and said, 'get on the bed. On your back.'"

She is quiet for a moment, maybe listening to my heartbeat.

"He got on top of me and rested his dick on top of my groin. Even though I just had it in my mouth, it looked so much different down there. Seeing it in laid against my body gave me a size comparison and for a second I thought he might not fit. That thought went away quickly because I wanted it so bad. He didn't put on a condom, and at that point I really didn't care. Then he got between my legs and pushed my legs up and back, and he said, 'tell me you want it.' And I said, 'I want it.' And he said, 'say it like you mean it.' So I said, 'please, Devin. I want it.' And he pushed inside me."

"Fuck," I exhale.

"He was bigger than the guy from my Comm," she says, matter-of-factly, and there was a little smirk in her voice. "Not, like, bigger than you. Different. And he went slow at first, really deep, and he kept talking, 'wrap your legs around me,' and 'tighter,' and 'look at me.' Every time I looked away he'd tell me again. He never got rough or mean. He just wanted it a certain way and he told me, and it made me feel like I didn't have to think about anything. I just had to do what he said."

"Did you like that?"

"I loved it." She lifts her head to look at me, and her eyes are glimmering. "I've never told anyone that. It's so much easier to just be told what to do. To not have to figure it out. To just say yes."

I nod. My throat is too tight to talk.

"After a while he said, 'turn over. On your hands and knees.' I flipped over and he grabbed my hips, and he said, 'arch your back.' I arched. He said, 'lower.' I put my face down on the pillow. And he pushed back in, and this time he was deeper, and I heard myself make this sound I'd never made before." She shivers against me. "He kept one hand on the back of my neck, not hard, just firm, like he was reminding me he was there and he pushed my face into the pillow. And he said, 'push back on me.' So I did. I rocked back onto him and I could hear how wet I was. Every time I did it right, he said, 'that's it. That's my good girl.'"

I close my eyes. My hips are pressing up against nothing, and I am ashamed of how close I feel to cumming just from her voice telling this story.

"He made me go on like that for a while. And then he pulled out and said, 'on your back again.' I flopped over, and he pushed back in, and this time he leaned down over me, and his face was right above mine. And he said, 'look at me. Don't look away.' And I didn't. I was in such a state of euphoria. It just felt... great to enjoy it, to let this man use me how he wants. At this point, I could feel an orgasm building. Every moment since the bathroom was filling my cup up and I could tell it was about to spill over. He fucked me slow and hard, and he put his hand between us and rubbed my clit with his thumb, and he said, 'cum for me.'"

"And you did?"

"I did," she says, almost shyly. "I couldn't believe it either, just on command like that. It was the first time a guy ever made me cum. It hit me so fast, like the second he said it, my whole body just let go. I was crying out and my legs were shaking around his waist, and he just kept looking down at me with this expression, like he'd won something."

She goes quiet.

"Then he pulled out, and he said, 'get down there.' I slid down the bed, and he was standing over me by the edge, and he told me to open my mouth. And I did. And he stroked himself and came in my mouth, and I swallowed all of it. He groaned so loud I thought the whole house would hear."

I make some kind of sound that wasn't a word.

"When it was over, I looked up at him and I went to kiss him, and..." She lets out a little sigh. "He gave me this weird smile and turned his head. Like Jake. He just said, 'that was good,' and flopped down on the bed with his back to me. And I lay there staring at the ceiling."

"Alyssa..." I start.

"No, it's okay. That's the thing. I wasn't sad." She rests her chin on my chest and looks right into my eyes. "I lay there in that bed and I felt so good. Like every part of me was buzzing. I'd been touched by strangers all night, and I'd been the one in control, and then at the end a guy took over and told me exactly what he wanted, and I gave it to him. And I felt so wanted. And so full of power. Both at the same time." She smiles, a little embarrassed. "Is that crazy?"

"No," I say, and my voice was a rasp. "It's not crazy."

"It made me feel so hot," she whispers. "Even now. Even telling you."

Her hand drifts down my stomach, right to the waistband of my open jeans. She doesn't touch my dick. She just rests it there, so close I could feel the warmth of her palm.

"You're shaking," she says softly.

"I'm sorry. I just... wow."

"Don't be sorry." Her eyes search mine. "Does it bother you? Hearing about me with other guys?"

I think about it. There is a knot of jealousy somewhere in my chest, but it's tangled up with something so much hotter that I can't tell where one ended and the other begins.

"No," I say, and it was the truth. "It's actually the opposite."

Alyssa smiles, slow and wicked, and it makes my heart do a backflip.

"Good," she says, her fingers slipping just inside my waistband. "Because I'm not done."

________________________________________________________________Her fingers slide the rest of the way into my jeans and wrap around me, and I let out a breath that turns into a groan. I'm already so hard it almost hurts. She strokes me slowly, base to tip, and makes a soft, satisfied sound in her throat.

"Oh, you're really into my story," she teases.

"Alyssa," I say, and it came out as a warning and a plea at the same time.

"Mm." She shifts onto her knees beside me and pulled my jeans and boxers down to my thighs. One hand stays around me. She lowers her head, and I feel her tongue slide up the underside of my shaft in one long, wet stripe. The night air was cool against the spit she left behind. "You want me to stop?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?"

The question hangs there. I stare up at the stars. Her hand keeps moving, slow and steady, and I can feel her breath on the head of my dick, warm and close, and all I can think about is the way her voice dropped when she told her story. 'Arms up. Look at me. Good girl.' How she melted for it. How she said it like it was the easiest, hottest thing in the world.

I don't know if I can pull it off. I feel about as commanding as a wet napkin. But she's still looking up at me with those big, dark eyes, waiting, and my heart pounds, and I decide to try.

"Take me in your mouth," I say.

It comes out a little shaky. She heard it. She smiles, and her eyes flash downwards, and she leans down and does exactly what I said.

Warm, wet heat close around the head, and I groan. She takes me slowly, her tongue working the underside while one hand wraps around the base and twists lightly. It's the same magic she had pulled off in the car, only now I wasn't distracted by the fear of getting caught. I can feel every little thing. The soft pressure of her lips. The flat of her tongue. The way her hand and mouth meet, slick with her own spit.

"Look at me," I say.

Her eyes flick up. The moment they lock onto mine, I feel her moan around my dick, and the vibration goes through me like a current. I realize it works. This is working. She's responding, her whole body loosening, her free hand sliding up my thigh, her eyes going soft in the starlight.

I put my hand on the back of her head, lightly. "Good girl," I say.

Alyssa shudders. Her hips rocking against the blanket, and she takes me a little deeper as if to prove she could. I feel it all the way down.

"Stop," I command.

She takes me out of her mouth immediately, lips shiny, chest heaving. A thin string of spit caught the light between her mouth and me and then breaks.

"Turn around and get on top of me. I want to taste you," I say.

She blinks. "Like, in a sixty-nine?"

"Yeah."

A slow smile spreads across her face. "Okay."

She scrambles up and swings a leg across me, and it takes me a second to remember how to breathe. She was kneeling above my face, dress hiked around her waist. From that angle I could see everything. Her ass, round and perfect above me. Her pussy a few inches from my mouth, glistening, still pink and swollen from earlier. The lake air moves over both of us, cool against all that heat.

"Lower," I say, my hands finding her hips. "Sit on my face."

"Cory," she says, laughing, a little breathless.

"Do it."

She lowers herself, and I pull her the last few inches down and bury my mouth against her. She cries out. She's still sensitive after cumming that she jerks away from my tongue, but I hold her hips steady and lick her with slow, deliberate strokes. She still tastes like heaven. I hear her drop forward onto her elbows, and then a wet, warm mouth close around my dick, and we both moan into each other at the same time.

For a while there was nothing but that. Her mouth bobbing on me, her hand stroking the parts she can't reach, her hips rocking against my tongue in little uncontrollable rolls. I flick her clit and she whimpers around my cock. I suck on her clit and she pulls her mouth off me to gasp, forehead pressing against my thigh. My fingers dig into her ass as I suck harder on her clit.

"I'm so sensitive," she pants. "You're going to make me cum again."

"Not yet," I say, and slap her ass, lightly, before I could second-guess it.

She yelps, and then moans, low and filthy. "Okay."

That did it. I feel my confidence building, and it was a little ridiculous how good it feels. I stay there for another minute, licking her slowly, dragging it out, until I feel her thighs start to tremble again. Then I pull my mouth away.

"Get off," I say.

She climbs off me, flushed and dazed, hair strewn across her face. I sit up and shove my jeans off the rest of the way and scoot back to make more room on the blanket. The fabric bunches beneath me. My dick stands straight up, slick and throbbing from her spit.

"Come here," I say. "On your knees."

She crawls between my legs. It was the same posture she had taken for Devin, on the carpet in that guest room. I knew it. She knew I knew it. Neither of us said so.

"Take the base in your hand," I say. "Both hands. One on top of the other."

She does.

"Now put just the head in your mouth. Just the head. Suck on it."

She wraps her lips around me, and I feel her cheeks hollow. I swear under my breath.

"Now use your tongue. Little circles on the underside. Just under the ridge."

She does. The sensation shoots down into my balls.

"Yeah. Like that. Now go down. Slowly. Take as much as you can."

She sinks down my length until her lips meet her hands, then peels back up. Her eyes never leave my face. I can see her waiting for the next thing, eager and focused, and it makes my chest go tight in a way that had nothing to do with how good her mouth felt.

"Faster," I say. "Use your hands like you did in the car. Twist as you go."

She speeds up. Her hands twist, her lips glide, her tongue flicks. I let my head thump back against the car.

"Slower again. Deeper. Hold it there."

She holds me at the back of her throat for a second, and her eyes water, and she pulls back with a gasp and a wet cough that turns into a giggle. "Sorry. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. That was perfect," I say, and mean it. "Do it again."

She does. I coach her through it, one instruction at a time, and every time I say what I want, she gives it to me with that same eager, focused look on her face. The look I had imagined on the tile in that bathroom. The look she has, I realized, when she was looking up at all of them. It was incredible. It was like having a superpower I hadn't known I wanted.

"Stop," I say, before I get too close to finishing.

She pulls off immediately, panting, a string of spit connecting her lower lip to the head of my dick. I have to look away to keep from losing it right then. The lake was a dark sheet beyond her shoulder. I turn back to her.

"Get on top," I say. "Ride me."

She glances down at my dick and back at me. "Here?"

"Yes. Now."

Alyssa smiles.

She straddles my hips, facing me, and I can feel the wet heat of her hovering just above the tip. She holds me steady with one hand and looks me in the eye.

"Now what?" she asks softly. She's waiting for me to tell her.

"Take it slowly," I say. "All the way."

She sinks onto me an inch at a time. It's hot and unbelievably wet, and we both groan at once as she slides me into the base. She stops, fully seated, her thighs shaking, her hands braced on my shoulders for leverage. Her dress is bunched around her waist, and I take in the sight of her above me. Her hair hangs over her face, lips parted, eyes half closed, the last of the starlight catching on her collarbone.

"Fuck," I whisper. "You feel so good."

"You too," she breathes.

"Now move. Slow."

She rocks her hips back and forth, and I feel her clench around me. I grip her hips and guide her, up and down in a long, slow rhythm, and she falls into it as if she had been doing it all her life. Her small, perky, breasts bounce in her dress, and I tug the straps off her shoulders and pull the neckline down. She arches into my hands as I cup her breasts and caress her nipples with my thumbs.

"Faster," I say.

She speeds up, riding me harder. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the quiet, and her moans get louder, carrying out over the lake. I hold her waist, pulling her down onto me every time she comes up. She is so wet I can feel it dripping down onto my balls.

"You're being such a good girl for me," I say. "You take me so well."

"Oh my god," she gasps.

"Say you want to cum," I say, "Tell me."

"I want to cum. Please Cory, I want to cum on your dick. I want it so much."

"Look at me."

She does. Her eyes are dark and wide. We stare at each other, and I feel her tighten around me, and I know she is almost there.

"Not yet," I say. "Not until I say."

She whimpers, a helpless, desperate sound. "Cory, please."

"Not yet."

I hold her hips and slam up into her a few times, hard, and she cries out. I can feel her fighting it. Her nails dig into my shoulders. She trembles all over. So am I. I can feel it building at the base of my spine, and I know I wasn't going to last. It didn't matter. I want to see this. I don't want this to end with just me finishing first again.

"Okay," I gasp. "Okay. Cum for me. Now."

Alyssa's head drops back and her whole body locks up. She cums with a broken cry and her pussy squeezes me in spasm after spasm, and it was so much, so incredible, that I almost lose it right there. I hold on. As her hips finally stutter and her body sags against me, I grab her waist.

"Get up," I say. "Now."

She lifts off me in a daze. I wrap my own hand around my dick and stroke, hard and fast, staring at her kneeling beside me with her dress around her waist and her hair a mess and her face flushed. That was all it took.

"Fuck. Alyssa, I'm cumming."

I lean back and shoot it across my stomach in long, hot ropes, groaning through my teeth as my whole body tensed. It feels like it went on forever. When it finally ends, I slump against the blanket, gasping, my stomach and chest painted white.

Alyssa stares at me in amazement. Then she looks at my cum on my stomach. I know I have exactly one more thing to say. My heart was still racing, and my voice comes out ragged.

"Lick it up," I say.

A breath hitches in her throat. She doesn't say anything. She just lowers her head, and I feel her tongue touch my stomach, warm and slow, and drag through the mess. She licks me clean, one long stripe at a time, her eyes flicking up to mine at every pass. Her tongue swirls around my navel and she pulls it into her mouth. She swallows.. When she finishes, she sits back on her heels with her lips shining. I don't think either of us breathe for a second.

Then she looks at me, and I look at her. And then we both start laughing. We laugh so hard I can't sit up straight, tears in my eyes, my whole body shaking on the blanket.

"Oh my god," she wheezes. "Oh my god, you said, 'say you want it.'"

"Stop! This is so embarrassing"

"I loved it," she gasps. "I loved every second."

"Me too," I say.

She crawls into my lap, dress still hanging off her, and wraps her arms around my neck. Her forehead presses against mine. Both of us still catching our breath. There are stars all over the sky and a mess between us.

I kiss her. Slow and easy, and it tastes like both of us. She melts into it, her fingers in my hair, her body warm against mine.

I hold her tight, and I don't stop kissing her.

________________________________________________________________After that night at the lake, we never sit down and have a conversation about it. We don't need to. We just become a couple. She starts leaving comfy clothes in my room. I start knowing which cabinet her parents keeps the coffee mugs in. By the time anyone thinks to ask what we are, it has already happened.

By the end of the first month, I'm at her house for dinner. Her parents are wary and kind in the way some parents are who have one daughter and have done the math on boys. Her dad asks where I work and what I'm planning to do after this. Her mom keeps refilling my water like she's buying herself time to decide if she likes me. I pass the test, I think. Alyssa squeezes my knee under the table every time the silence stretches too long.

A couple of weeks later she's in my kitchen, leaning against the counter in one of my hoodies, meeting my mom. Mom takes a liking to her almost immediately. I can tell by the way she starts with the embarrassing stories. Alyssa laughs at all of them. She dries the dishes without being asked. When I walk her out afterward, my mom is already at the window, pretending she isn't watching.

And the sex is everywhere.

It's in her bedroom on the nights her parents go out to dinner, the door cracked just enough to hear the garage if it opens. She rides me quietly, one hand pressed over her own mouth, the other braced on my chest, and I can feel her shaking with the effort of staying silent. Every time the house creaks she freezes -- still full of me, eyes wide -- and then she starts moving again, slower, biting down on her own fingers.

It's in my car at the overlook, seats folded down, windows fogging over until the lake disappears. We go back there over and over, until I know the shape of every curve in her back by heart. The dip of her spine. The way her shoulder blades move when she arches. The exact place my hands fit on her hips.

It's in the shower at my place on a Sunday morning while my mom is at church. Alyssa pressed against the tile, water running down her chest, my fingers between her legs. She bites my shoulder to keep from shouting and leaves a mark I have to hide under a t-shirt for two days.

And it's on the Fourth of July, on the hood of my car at the same overlook, with the whole town packed in around us for the lights show. Blankets and lawn chairs and kids with sparklers as far as you can see. Alyssa sits in my lap under a blanket, her sundress bunched between us, and when the first firework breaks open over the water I push into her, slow, and she bites her lip and stares straight ahead like nothing in the world is happening. I grind into her through the whole show. Every boom of color lights up her face. She doesn't make a sound. When the finale starts she comes with her forehead pressed to my jaw, shaking, and I have to sit very still afterward until I can trust my legs again.

Then there are the nights after, when she lies with her head on my chest and gives me the rest of it in pieces. The time she lost her virginity, told like a story she's practiced being casual about. The night Devin texted her at two in the morning and she snuck out of her house to meet him. The guy from her Comm class. She tells them slowly, half laughing, and she watches my face the whole time. By the end I'm always hard again. She notices every time. She never pretends she doesn't. It never gets old, for either of us.

Somewhere around the end of July, in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday, I realize I think I love her.

We're lying in her bed. The ceiling fan is turning. Her leg is thrown over mine, warm and careless, and she's scrolling through her phone with one eye open, and nothing about the moment is special except that it is. I look at her and the feeling is just there, fully formed, like it has been waiting for me to notice. Not the way I felt on the first day, when I was sure she'd ruin my life just by smiling at me. This is quieter. This is so certain it almost scares me. I lie there listening to the fan and her breathing and I think: oh. This is it. This is the rest of it.

I tell her a week later.

We're in the parking lot at Power Price after a closing shift, standing under the same humming lamp post where I first walked her to her car. The lot is empty. The store is dark behind us. I say it fast, the way you rip off a Band-Aid, because if I give myself time I'll find a reason not to.

"I love you."

She goes very still. She stares at me for a second, and I have just enough time to think I've ruined everything.

Then she says, "I love you too, dummy. I've been waiting for you to say it first."

________________________________________________________________The summer doesn't slow down after that. It just ends.

It comes at me in pieces so small I almost miss them. The August schedule goes up on the break room wall at Power Price, a grid of names and shifts in black marker, and mine isn't on it. I stand there longer than I mean to, looking at the blank space where I used to be. The carnival packs up overnight and rolls out of town, leaving a rectangle of yellowed grass and a few bent soda cans behind the grocery store. My mom puts a list on the fridge that says apartment stuff in her neat looping handwriting, and every day she adds something else.

Alyssa doesn't bring it up. Neither do I. We keep going to the overlook. We keep falling asleep in her bed with the fan turning. We keep acting like August is just another month.

Until the second Friday.

We're lying on the blanket at the overlook watching the sun go down over the lake. The light is that particular late-summer gold that makes everything look like it's already a memory. Her head is on my chest. My fingers are in her hair. Neither of us has said anything in a while.

"So," she says quietly.

"So."

"You leave in two days."

"I know."

She's quiet after that. I pull her closer and she lets me, her hand balls the front of my shirt up loosely.

"I looked it up. The drive. Nine hours and forty minutes by car." she finally says.

"You looked it up?"

"I looked it up like eleven times." She lets out a shaky laugh that isn't really a laugh.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to be one of those girls who freaks out. I just... I don't want to lose this."

I sit up. She sits up with me. Her eyes are already wet, and I take her face in my hands.

"You're not going to lose this," I say. "I'm not going anywhere. I mean, physically I am but mentally I'm not going anywhere."

She sniffles and laughs, wet and crooked. "That's dumb. But I like it."

"Okay. So let's figure it out. Let's make a plan."

We spend the next hour making it. It's messy and honest and a little tearful, and we don't get every answer right on the first try. She wants to drive up more often than I drive home, because she says she'll go crazy sitting still. We decide to make plans one month at time. Aligning our schedules for one weekend, no cancelling. No excuses.

Every night, no matter what, we FaceTime. Ten minutes if we're swamped. Two hours if we're not. We'll recap our days, from the boring parts to the big ones.

"And," Alyssa says, with a small mischievous smile that makes my stomach flip, "on the good nights, we can have a little more than a recap."

"Like... FaceTime sex?"

"No, well, maybe. Sure actually yes. But I'm proposing that I still have full details to tell you with some of my stories," she says, "and it would be cruel to make you wait a whole month."

I laugh so hard I get a hiccup. She kisses me through it, smiling against my mouth.

"Will you miss me?" she says.

"Obviously I'll miss you," my voice cracks.

"We'll do our best," she says.

"We will," I whisper back.

We stay until the stars are all the way out. The lake goes dark below us. The crickets start up in the grass along the slope.

For the last time this summer, on that old plaid blanket, we make love slowly, without a single word. I kiss her the way I promised I would, before, during, and after. She holds onto me like she's trying to keep the night from moving. When it's over she stays against my chest, her face tucked into my neck, warm and quiet, and I lie there with my hand in her hair and the lake breathing somewhere below us, and I memorize the sound of her breathing.

________________________________________________________________

On Sunday morning, my car is packed to the roof. My mom stands in the driveway with her arms crossed, watching me load the last box into the trunk. She's been doing this all week, appearing in doorways, watching me fold things, helping me decide what stays and what goes.

Alyssa's silver sedan pulls up right as I'm closing the trunk. She hops out in the same worn jeans and the same black top she wore on our first date, hair down, crooked smile trembling at the edges.

"Wow," she says, looking at the packed car. "That's a lot of stuff."

"You have no idea how good I've gotten at packing my life into this thing."

She laughs, and then she's in my arms. I bury my face in her hair and breathe in her shampoo and vanilla. I hold her tight enough to feel her heartbeat against my chest, and she holds me back the same way, her fingers digging into my shoulders like she's anchoring herself.

"Call me when you stop for lunch," she says into my collar.

"I will."

"And when you get there."

"I will."

"And tonight." Her voice breaks. "I get to see your face tonight, right?"

"I'll be at the apartment at six. FaceTime at nine. I promise."

She pulls back and looks at me with her eyes shining. Then she kisses me, a long, deep kiss that goes right through me, and neither of us cares that my mom is watching. When she finally lets go, she wipes her cheeks and squares her shoulders.

"Okay," she says.

"I love you," I tell her.

"I love you too."

I climb into the car. I roll down the window, and she's standing on the curb with her arms wrapped around herself. My mom comes down and puts her arm around Alyssa and they both wave at me. I wave back.

Then I back out of the driveway. I watch her in the rearview mirror until she gets small and disappears around the bend. My eyes blur as I drive, and I realize this hurts. Goodbye to my amazing, beautiful girlfriend. Hello, sophomore year of college. Hello, six hundred miles.

________________________________________________________________

That night, in our off-campus apartment surrounded by boxes I haven't unpacked, I sit on my new bed with my laptop balanced on my knees. My phone shows 8:59pm. I check my hair in the dark reflection of the screen. Then I check it again, because I'm ridiculous.

I hear Mason, my roommate, yell from the living room. "Hey Cory! We're gonna go grab some food. You coming?"

At exactly 9:00pm, the screen lights up. Alyssa is calling.

"No, sorry, I've got plans tonight. Maybe next time!" I yell back.

I click Accept, and there she is. Sitting cross-legged on her bed at home in an oversized T-shirt, hair tied up, eyes puffy but smiling. That crooked, thousand-watt smile.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi."

"You made it."

"I made it." My chest aches, in the best possible way. "How was your day?"

She laughs, and wipes under her eyes, and starts to tell me.