Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“W-What things?”
He shakes his head once, puffing his sweet breath over my lips. “There’s this video I like. The girl is a blonde like you and she’s got long hair like yours.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “The guy pulls her hair and wraps it around his dick. Fuck. I come every time I see that. Every fucking time.”
The buzz that runs through my body right now, is nothing compared to when I come. Nope. Not at all. It’s much more potent, more thrilling. It’s like my body is already on fire and I’m loving every stinging second of it.
How can his vulgar and dirty words be more powerful than an orgasm?
“Video means…”
Abel opens his eyes. “Porn. Yeah. I’m so gone over you that I look for girls who have your hair. I watch and I jerk off but I don’t get relief. Because no one is like you. No one.” He swallows. “Do you hate me? Do you think I’m a goddamn jackass for watching porn and thinking about you?”
Do I?
Do people do that? And if they do, it’s bad, right? It’s bad and wrong and… yeah. It’s all the things I never thought I’d like but I somehow do. I like it. I like his desperation because I’m desperate too. It’s just that I’m a little chicken to do anything about that.
“No. I can never hate you.”
At that, he kisses me and we’re rocking into each other. His words have already gotten me so hot that I don’t need much friction, and I come with a gasp. And then, he comes too.
He came because I came.
If that isn’t the most powerful and wonderful thing in the world, I don’t know what is.
In the back of my mind, I worry about cleaning up and getting new, dry panties. I carry extra underwear in my bag; it’s a necessity. But all thoughts vanish when Abel recovers and watches me with a satisfied smile. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Blushing. Your blue eyes wide and glazed. I wish I could take a picture of you like this.”
Oh yeah. Abel finally got his camera. He bought it himself with the money he saved up from his job. He says he loves to draw me, take his time with my face. But sometimes my face is so beautiful that only a camera can do me justice.
“You’re the worst,” I tell him.
“But you love me.”
“For now.” And just for good measure, I add, “And no sex. Nuh-huh. Not until we tell my parents about us or…” Then an idea strikes me. “Or we get married, like, way, way in the future.”
Okay, I admit it: I love to torture the guy. I’m not waiting for marriage, even if my mom says to. But I am nervous. It’s real, okay? I’m freaking scared of sex right now. Right now, I just want us to play and give each other delicious orgasms.
Chuckling, he kisses me again, and lowers the hem of my dress, gently and sweetly covering me up. “Fine. No sex and I won’t take a picture of you like this. Not until I take you to church and marry you in front of God and man.” He pulls me forward and off the desk, fisting my dress at the waist. “And then, when I’ve given you everything, I’ll take. Whatever I want.”
Abel’s eating his apple, taking big, juicy bites, all the while staring at me from across the hall. Today’s his last day of school. He’s graduating but I’m still stuck here for another two years.
He will still be in town, however. He’s going to be working with Mr. B, who even offered him accommodations, right above the store. So Abel isn’t going to be my neighbor anymore, either.
We’ve talked about him going to college but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to be tied down by rules anymore. It’s stupid. Everybody goes to college. That’s how you figure out your life. Plus, he’s so good with a camera. Imagine what he could do with a little formal training and a degree. But nope. According to him, photography is only a hobby, it’s not a career for him. One day I’m going to make him realize that he has so much to offer this world. His camera isn’t there to make him feel invisible but it’s his tool to look at the world in a different way.
Besides, the real reason he isn’t going to college is because I’m here. He hasn’t said it, but I know. I can’t even be mad at him for this. Though I’m mad at myself for being two years behind him.
I can’t look away from him even though the way he’s eating that stupid fruit reminds me of how he eats at my lips. And the way he swipes the juices off his lips reminds me of how he sucks on his fingers after making me come.