An attempt at writing oral smut. Don't read any further if that's not your thing! I was pretty sure I warned people when I posted this to tumblr months ago, but I still got a reblog with someone warning their friend to definitely not read this, and it hurt her eyes. *insert rolling eye emoji here* Anyway, I usually stop just shy of sex in my stories, so when I go further it may not translate well. You can decide on this one, but I swear if any of you say I hurt your eyes I will hunt you down.
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"Katniss you're so pure," my best friend Johanna says to me with a hint of annoyance. Our conversation during lunch as been anything but pleasant for me.
"Jo, I've been friends with you for two years now. I hardly think I'm pure," I respond, being sure to roll my eyes and lace my voice with plenty of resentment. This isn't the first time I've been called pure, and I tire of it much more quickly than I used to.
"Katniss, just because you've heard me make lewd comments doesn't mean you're not pure. Especially when you make that face."
"What face?" I demand. I don't make faces, happy, sad, or otherwise. If anything I have a poker face to be proud of, completely void of all feeling and implication.
"The one where you scrunch up your nose and your mouth turns down into a scowl. Actually, now that I think about it, the scowl is normal. So, it's just the nose-scrunching," Johanna explains to me casually.
"Whatever, Jo. I'm not pure, okay? Can you just drop it? I'm getting tired of being called that all the time. And Madge and Delly are starting to pick up on it." Johanna and I usually keep to ourselves, but my boyfriend came with a group of friends we sometimes end up hanging out with.
"Tell me one thing you've done with Peeta besides kissing. I'll even accept hands over the shirt,"
she says exasperatedly.
"What Peeta and I do behind closed doors is our business, Jo," I warn. "And we have done more than kiss." That's a lie, but we've only been dating for three months. How fast am I supposed to be? Peeta hasn't hinted that he wants more from me than what we're already doing, which is just making out on one of our living room couches after our parents have retired for the night.
"Have you seen his penis?" she asks doubtfully. "Have you seen any penis, Katniss?"
"God, Jo, you can be so-"
"There it is! That face! I knew it. You are such a liar, Katniss Everdeen." Johanna's knowing smirk infuriates me. I'm actually thinking of dragging Peeta into the janitor's closet between classes and having him grope me just so I can say I've done more than kiss him, but I quickly pluck it from my mind. I don't want to push him into something he's not ready for.
"Just because I don't assault your ears and mind with every little detail, like you have a habit of doing to me, doesn't mean there aren't details to be known."
"Alright, I'll make you a deal, Chaste-niss." I deepen my scowl, hurling poisonous, imaginary daggers from my eyes straight into Johanna's. I hate the nickname she came up with for me after a sleepover last month, when she forced upon my ears her latest escapade with Gale, my childhood best friend, and a person I want absolutely no personal details of. Why do I need to know the size of his foot? And whether or not her shoe fits it like a glove? I just... don't. Anyone would have made a face at her way-too-intimate details, not just me. Lucky for me Gale didn't really want her sharing info about him with me, either. He said it was like having his sister walk in on him naked. I wholeheartedly agreed with him.
But since Johanna can't not tell me about her private life, she decided to change Gale's name to 'Roger', and still regale me with her inappropriate stories. Apparently I'm as dumb as I am pure in her eyes.
"What is it, Jo?" I sigh deeply, hands subconsciously moving to my hips in boredom, knowing I'm probably about to regret whatever 'deal' Johanna has in mind.
"I will stop calling you pure, and retire my awesomely brilliant nickname for you, if you can manage to give Peeta a blow job." I try very hard not to make the face that Johanna so openly accused me of moments ago. Doesn't that require possibly touching, or worse, tasting, sticky body fluids? Ew. I stifle a gag.
"Excuse me?" I challenge her, my tone bitter as acid.
"You heard me, Chaste-niss." I can tell by the cynical way she uses my nickname that she's baiting me into the deal. I wish I could just ignore it all and go about my simple life, but I need to prove I'm not as pure as everyone thinks. I'm so fed up with being thought of as virginal, which I am, but that's nobody's business, that I'm actually considering taking this deal. I mean, it's going to happen anyway, right? I do feel something inside me that wants more when Peeta kisses me. Especially when those kisses happen in the dark, and his hands are running slowly up and down my back, stopping just above my low-rise jeans, almost as if he's hesitating exploring lower. And when he kisses my neck-
"Earth to Katniss?" Johanna is snapping her fingers in front of my face as my eyes regain their focus on her. I must have been daydreaming. The excited flutter in my stomach that I usually get with Peeta's nearness is awake, and I have to force my wandering mind to pay attention.
I contemplate the deal further. Maybe it's not as ludicrous as I'd first thought. Surely some time in the far future we will have upgraded our making out to roaming hands, and roaming hands to… whatever comes next. Even though I have no idea what that is, a shiver races up my spine at the thought. It's not like Johanna is telling me to have sex with Peeta. That I'm definitely not ready for. But this is my senior year of high school, and all I've done is tangle tongues with one other boy besides the guy I'm currently seeing. As frightening as it is, maybe Johanna's motivation is what I need.
"Fine, but I don't have to give you any details," I say, pointing my finger in her face and spouting my own terms.
"You won't have to. I'll see it on his face." Her statement strikes fear and curiosity in me.
"What do you mean you'll 'see it on his face'?"
"Tomorrow. Field trip?" I rack my brain trying to piece together Johanna's thoughts. It's never easy. What does our student council field trip have to do with giving Peeta a blow job?
"Your dare, Katniss," she says my name normally, as if she uses it that way every day, further sweetening the deal by letting me hear the prize, "is to give your boyfriend head on the bus tomorrow."
"What?!" I scream out loud enough to turn heads. This is the most ridiculous thing Johanna has ever said, and she has said some very absurd things. "Forget it, Jo." There is no way that's happening. I begin to kiss the ever-present image of purity hello again, since it's here to stay, and find solace in the fact that college is only five months away. Maybe I can ditch the Snow White image without having to do anything as drastic as this.
"Katniss, I'm your friend." Johanna's expression turns sincere as she puts her arm around my shoulders. It's oddly comforting, even though I have a hard time with her use of the word 'friend' right now. "Trust me. Peeta wants you to do this."
"How do you know?" I rudely question her logic.
"All guys want it, Katniss." Her confident answer is almost enough to make me believe it's true. I still have no idea what has possessed her to challenge me to do it in a public place.
"Why on the bus?"
"I just like to spice things up a bit," she tells me with a saucy wink. I spy Gale walking over to us. He takes a seat next to Johanna, kissing the cheek she offers to him.
"What's new, Jo? Chaste-niss?" Gale smirks when he uses the name and it fuels my irritation. I stare hard, straight into Jo's eyes.
"I'm in."
I bounce my knees around nervously as I sit on the bench waiting for the bus to arrive and take us back to Panem High.
"Nervous, Katniss?" Jo grins at me and takes the vacant seat. I scowl and look away. If she knows me so well, she can figure out the answer to that question on her own. I can't believe I agreed to do this. I went to bed confident after googling a few moves and staring, wide-eyed at my two-inch curling iron, but as the day has progressed, I find myself increasingly anxious and agitated.
"Katniss," Jo starts in a regretful tone. "You don't have to do this. You're my friend, and it's not fair of me to tease you because you aren't as experienced as me. It's just, sometimes I want to have girl talk about stuff I do with Ga- uh, Roger-" I shake my head as she corrects herself. "And you're my best friend. Really, you're the only friend I can talk to about the 'stuff'." I laugh inwardly at Johanna's use of the word she knows I'm comfortable with. She must really be trying.
"Don't do it, Katniss, if you're not ready. I'll stop with the nickname just because I love you, okay?"
"Okay, Jo, that means a lot to me. Thank you." She hugs me and I accept her genuine apology. I'm relieved that she's dropped the dare, but at the same time I find that I'm disappointed, too. I recall the image of my research, and how the thought of making Peeta feel as good as the guy in the video seemed to feel made me excited. I know Peeta isn't going to push me to do anything, he almost treats me like one of the delicate sugar cookies his dad makes in their family's bakery, so the ball will sit on my side of the court until I decide where to throw it. I'm not unhappy with things the way they are right now, but maybe I am ready for more.
Johanna wanders off to find Gale and I sit alone with my thoughts, less frustrated and more happy than before. Now that the pressure has been lifted off my shoulders I feel like I can breathe, and even talk to Peeta, whom I've been avoiding most of the day because of my nerves. I don't need to find him, as I see he's found me first, dropping his backpack on the ground and sitting on the far side of the bench.
"Is everything okay, Katniss?" He seems as nervous as I've felt today.
"It is now." The blush on Peeta's cheeks tells me he took my comment personally, which is fine with me. It's as true as what I meant, anyway. He smiles, and it awakens that thing inside me that tells me I want something with him. I still don't know exactly what that thing is, but I have a direction that might help me find out.
"Hey, let's sit in the back on the way home," I say to him. Everyone knows what that means, and I'm quite sure my face colors crimson with my request, but Peeta makes me feel like it's the most natural thing to say.
"Whatever you want, Katniss," he tells me.
The entire student council boarded the bus after it arrived, Peeta and I making our way to the last seat. We were met with many knowing stares and questioning looks, but I decided not to care.
Now, an hour into the trip, most everyone has either forgotten about us or is asleep, including Peeta. His arm is draped across my shoulders and his head is laid back on the seat. A mixture of excitement and fear is swirling inside my belly as I place my hand on Peeta's thigh, glancing up to his face. He doesn't stir, and I guess his jeans must be too thick to feel my hand.
I put pressure on his leg as my hand moves slowly upward. When I reach the spot right next to his cock, which seems to be waking quicker than he is, his eyes pop open and he stares down at my hand. When he looks at me, eyes wide and round as my grandmother's china plates, I can't help but blush and smile shyly.
I remove my eyes from his, focusing on the nearness of my hand to the large bulge in his jeans. I have the sudden urge to place my palm over it, and Peeta sucks in a sharp breath when I do. I feel his arm fall from my shoulders to my back as he pulls me close to him. This must mean I'm doing something okay.
I can hear Peeta's breathing speed up as I rub my hand back and forth over the bulge, and quietly kiss the part of his neck that was exposed when he laid his head back on the seat. I continue what I'm doing until Peeta breathes the words "I need more" into my ear. I take it to mean that he must need more contact. Since I can barely feel him through his jeans, he must not be able to feel my hand as well as he would like.
My nerves rattle and my hand shakes as I pinch the zipper of his jeans between my thumb and forefinger, gently tugging it down. I see Peeta's black boxers have a gap in the middle, with a snap holding them closed. I undo the snap and spy a glimpse of reddish-pink flesh. I thought I would be disgusted by the sight of a penis, but instead I'm intrigued. I place my finger on it lightly, testing the feel of it. It's much warmer than my curling iron, and definitely as hard.
Peeta's hand squeezes my side as my fingertip traces the length of his cock, drawing my attention to his face. His eyes are almost a midnight blue color, and he is physically biting down on one of his knuckles. I send him a smile that matches my newfound boldness, reaching into his boxers and wrapping my hand around his hardness. I pull it free from its cottony confines and inspect it. It looks a lot like the one in the video, and I mimic the action I remember seeing - gliding my hand up and down. Peeta gives a whimper, and I briefly wonder if I'm hurting him.
"Are you okay?" I ask quietly. I don't know if he's incapable of words, but he just nods and lays his head back on the seat again, his hands tangling in my braid as his fist clenches and then releases strands of my hair repeatedly.
I return my attention to my hand, focusing my sight on the tip of his penis. It's kind of… cute? I'm not sure what to think of it. I definitely don't think it's gross. I notice a slit on the underside of the head, and it seems like as good a place to start as any. Leaning down, and now more curious than ever, I flick my tongue over it and Peeta stills, his fist clenching my braid tighter than normal.
"Katniss, what are you doing?"
"You want me to stop?" I say teasingly, moving to the floor between his legs. I take a quick glimpse of Peeta's face, his mouth wide open in shock and I wonder if he's ever been this speechless before, or if I'm the first one to cause it. The thought crosses my mind that maybe he does want me to stop, but then his hands reach out and tug me towards him and I know his answer. Johanna was right; all guys do want this.
I start small, swiping my tongue from the base to the tip, then swirling it around the head, just like the girl in the video. That wasn't so bad. It was actually quite erotic, so I do it again, applying more pressure with my tongue this time. Peeta makes a low moaning sound, and I hope it's covered up by the noisy hum of the bus's motor. If anyone catches us I'll probably die of mortification.
After I lick my way back to the tip of his penis, I use my lips to envelope the head. I don't go too far yet. I've been a little nervous about gagging, but the sounds and small movements Peeta is making says he seems to be enjoying what I'm doing. I take in a little more of his solid shaft every time I my head bobs downward, until my lips connect with the skin of my own hand, still wrapped around the base. I move my hand a little, realizing I can take him deeper.
I catch Peeta watching me, and we lock eyes in an intense stare. In a flash of boldness, possibly having to do with the way he's looking at me, I open my mouth as wide as possible, determined to take it all in. I feel triumphant when my lips reach the base, and Peeta let's out a sensual "ooooohhh" as I suction my way back up.
I continue gliding my lips up and down, stroking the silky underside with my tongue. I feel Peeta's hands, now on either side of my head, begin to guide me a little faster. I take the hint and speed up, reveling in the helpless, awestruck way he's looking at me. I think I feel wetness gathering in my panties. I realize I've become very turned on by what I'm doing, and Peeta's failed attempts at stifling his soft moans is definitely encouraging it. I feel so empowered with the fact that I can reduce him to putty in my hands this way.
With one breathy release of my name, Peeta removes his cock from my mouth. I'm confused for a minute as I watch him pump himself a few times, until he stiffens and comes, cloudy spurts of warm liquid dotting his hands and jeans. It looks less appealing than I'd thought it would, but I touch my pinky to a drop of it, bringing it to my tongue to taste. Peeta watches me with rapt attention, and I make a mental note for later that he likes to see me do these things.
Reaching under the seat for my bag to grab a few tissues, I try not to make eye contact with Peeta as I return to my seat. As fantastic as I felt while it was happening, I now feel strange and... embarrassed? He wraps his arm around me and pulls me in close.
"That was amazing, Katniss," he whispers in my ear. The awkwardness I'd just experienced is replaced with satisfaction by his grateful words, and the warmth of his breath on my skin hurls my senses into overload. I've heard Johanna talk about the oral equivalent for a girl, and while I used to think it was overrated and I would never attempt to let a guy down there, my body has other ideas. I just have no idea how to bring it up because I'm not really even sure what it is. And even if I knew, how in the world am I going to find the courage to talk about it?
I pull out my phone, typing out a quick message to Johanna, the one person I know has the answers I need.
We need to have a 'stuff' talk.
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So? Are you all blinded now? Have I ruined any ability you've possessed to drive a car or watch your favorite movie? Please let me know! Pbg
