Part IV: Chapter 16 - Where Do You Go
When I come down from the shower, she's in the kitchen, washing the breakfast dishes. I feel a pinch and I have to stop and adjust the thing in my pants, which I do as I lean in the doorway. Her eyes are on what she's doing and she can't see me, so I allow my eyes to move over her body and I'm reminded of last night, her mouth on my breast, her fingers inside of me and something happens to me down there, with this thing pressed against me. And I can't stop it but I think of Sara. I don't want to; thinking of last night with Jamie is making me wet but thinking of Sara makes my chest contract, my throat swell, and I can't take it, I have to get away from it. I hear in my head her vicious last words to me, and the sadness is immediately washed away by bitterness. This was her choice. A huge chunk of me is missing because of her, and for what? My nails bite my palms. Then Jamie looks over at me, her eyes soft. Does she know?
"Hey," she says. "You okay over there?" She talks to me like that when I can still feel her lips, her hands on my body, but I feel Sara in my guts and it aches. I pull together a smile and nod. "Just about finished here. . ." she says, her hands in the sink as I walk slowly up behind her. I stand behind her, following the line of her shoulders and back with my eyes, inviting the nearness of her, the warmth and the shape of her to push that ache down deeper. I have plans for today and they don't include crying over my sister, who destroyed my heart as our lives were slowly disintegrating. I remember, in my bed in Vancouver, how Jamie strapped on and when she was finished, my legs were shaking.
I'm thinking of that when I step closer, behind her, and press my body against hers. She is motionless as my arms circle her waist, the fingertips of my right hand slipping slightly under her t-shirt. I feel the warmth of her skin on my fingers as I press my hips against her, the package in my pants shifting a little and rubbing against me. I feel her take a breath against my body, and I push the last thoughts of Sara away. Can she feel what I have in my jeans? Does she know what I'm planning to do with it?
I hear her say my name, like she is maybe going to ask a question, but she stops when my hand strokes her stomach and I kiss her ear. She takes another breath, and then I kiss her neck, slowly, and her hands in the sink have stopped moving. I feel heat in my belly, in my pants, because when I kiss her neck again, she shivers, and I want more of her.
"You know what I want to do?" I murmur close to her ear, and she hesitates.
"What do you want to do?" she asks softly, as my hand slides down her arm and I take hold of one of her wrists. I slowly draw her hand behind her, turning her palm towards me, and I press her hand against me so that she is cupping the bulge in my jeans, and I push my hips forward, against her ass, against her hand as I answer.
. . . . .
"I want to fuck you until you can't stand," Tegan murmurs, her breath hot on my ear as my hand is pressed against the firm bulge in her pants. I can hear my brother's TV in his bedroom but Tegan's warm body is against me and her words in my ear. . . "I want to be inside of you. With this. . .". She has never said anything like that to me before and the effect is instantaneous. I can already feel the hot wetness, a slow flood against my will, my guts shivering a little at her words, at the touch of her lips below my ear.
"Uhhh. . ." I say, at a loss for anything more articulate. Her breasts are against my back and I am feeling what is in her pants and when I rub against it, she moans, very softly, in my ear. I draw in my breath as she puts her hands on my shoulders and turns me and then I am there with my back against the sink and she is pressing in close to me again, her lips an inch away from mine. I feel her warm, minty breath on my face and my eyes scan down to her lips as my brother's voice floats down from upstairs. He's laughing, probably at something on the TV, and the intrusion of thoughts of him into my mind, while Tegan's body is pressed against mine, are most unwelcome.
"Do you want to go for a drive?" I ask in a whisper, my pulse racing. She smiles and nods.
It's the longest drive in the history of automotive transportation. I drive while Tegan sits quietly in the passenger seat. The silence is intensifying the feeling of urgency, somehow, and when I put a hand on her knee, she catches my wrist, shifting my hand slowly so that it rests against her inner thigh. She holds it there for a moment, and then slowly starts to slide it up towards the mass of silicon in her pants. She shifts a little in her seat and I hear the faintest sigh from her - or maybe it's me? - and when my hand is at last up against the crotch of her pants, she draws in a breath and presses her hips slightly against my hand. I'm hot, distracted, and I nearly miss a curve in the road, jerking us back on course with my left hand as my right, still held at the wrist, rubs slowly between Tegan's legs and she squeezes my wrist as I push the strap-on against her body, under her jeans, her pelvis pressing back in return, and it doesn't matter that it is silicon and not flesh, it is filling us both with heat.
"Can you drive any faster?" Tegan asks with a breathy laugh, her voice husky, and I press on the accelerator. Her hips press up against my hand again and again, slowly, just slightly, and when I hear her softly suck in her breath and groan, quietly, my foot gets heavier again. She places both hands over my hand and rubs it against her and I nearly whimper.
I find the secluded clearing next to the lake and the engine has barely cut out before Tegan is out of her seat and is on me, straddling my lap, the bulge against my stomach as she presses her body against me and squeezes my hips with her knees. Her hands are on my face and then she kisses me intensely, once, and then the second time, her tongue is sliding against mine and when I raise my hands to touch her, she catches my hands with hers and folds them behind my head as she kisses me again. Her mouth is on mine until both of us are out of breath. I try to extricate my hands from behind my head but Tegan chuckles a little, slowly runs her tongue over my earlobe and then whispers.
"Do you want me to make you come right here in the front seat?" she asks me, all breathy, one hand still locked on my wrists, behind my head, as her other hand pushes my jacket open, moves over my chest and brushes across my breast. This new intensity of hers is making me feel hot and confused at the same time.
"Uh," I say, as her free hand opens the top two buttons on my shirt. Her eyes are on mine, unflinching as she undoes my buttons in the cold December air but I'm hot, hot from her body against mine, hot from her touch, her lips, her words, the aggressively sexy look in her eyes.
My shirt is half-open now and her hand slips inside as she kisses me deeply and I moan again. When she moves her mouth away from mine, her fingers slip under my bra and move over my already-hard nipple, filling me with sparks, her eyes endlessly on mine as her fingertips stroke my breast, paralyzing me.
"Do you want me?" she asks in a low murmur that makes me shiver, and I nod, unable to speak. "Then tell me," she says. Her lips are so close and I move my lips towards hers. She pulls back a little, shaking her head with a ghost of a grin.
"I want you," I breathe, admitting it, heat flooding all through me, my face, my throat, my stomach where her strap-on is pressing, and lower than that.
"Kiss me," she says, moving her face closer to mine and then stopping. I move my face forward the rest of the way and kiss her and she kisses me back for a few moments, her lips sliding against mine. She breaks the kiss and looks at me, licks her lower lip. I'm not the only one who's hot. "Give me your tongue," she says, and I can feel things swelling and heating up and I want her touch but I don't know what she is going to do, or when. Her open mouth is on mine again and I do as she tells me and give her my tongue, and the soft wet heat of her mouth creates more soft wet heat elsewhere and I can't stop myself from pressing my hips against her, where she straddles me, and I hear her draw in a breath, moving her face away and looking at me. She slides down my lap just a few inches and her hand is on the button of my jeans. Then it's open and she lowers my zipper. Now my pants are open and her fingertips are under the band of my underwear. Her hand slides down the front of my pants and it makes me moan again, her fingers gentle as she touches me, her mouth intense as she kisses me again for a few long moments and then looks in my eyes.
"It feels like you want me," she tells me in a whisper, sliding her hand lower into my pants and I press back against her, as the intensity of her eyes on mine makes my face heat up; I wonder if she can feel the heat radiating off of me. "Let's go in the back," she murmurs. "I want you naked with your legs around me. . ." All this talk, so unlike her, is making my heart race.
She gets up and pulls my hand, leading me into the back of the van with her. In an instant, her arms are around me and we tumble down on top of the old blanket on the floor and she rolls on top of me. She pushes my knees apart with hers and then she's between my legs. The bulge in her pants is pressing against the hot wet place that she was touching with her fingers just moments ago and she pushes it against me as she props herself up above me.
"Oh. . . " I say involuntarily at her slow movement against my body, and then one of her hands pushes my shirt and jacket back off of my shoulders. One hand slips behind my back and she unhooks my bra and pulls it off of me and I am naked above the waist. She kisses my shoulder, then my neck, then my lips, so intensely that I can't take a breath, and all of this stimulation is getting overwhelming, and, on top of that, she still has on all of her clothes.
"Not fair," I complain breathlessly, and my hands find the tail of her shirt, but she takes my hands and moves them up over my head.
"I think it is," she says, her voice low, sexy.
"I'm naked and you're not," I protest and she smiles, her eyes moving down my body, openly, slowly. She knows that, somehow, it still makes me shy and that's why she's doing it.
"Almost," she says, pressing more intensely between my legs and for a moment, I hold my breath. Her mouth is on my chest, then my stomach, as she slides down and takes hold of my pants and underwear and she slowly peels them down, her eyes making me shy and aroused at the same time, and it's too much attention on me, on my body, and she is in control, just like she was that first morning when she touched me in her bed in Vancouver.
She returns to me slowly, her eyes lingering on my breasts, my stomach, and then she is between my thighs again.
"There," she says. "Now you're naked and I'm not." I try again to lift her shirt and she catches my hands again.
"That's not what's going to happen," she says, holding my hands down again. I feel so exposed with the cool air on my skin, denim and silicon pushing and sliding against me, my arms trapped above my head.
"What's going to happen?" I manage to ask her. My instinct is to roll her over and get on top of her but she won't let me. My pulse races in my throat.
"First," she murmurs, one hand sliding from my stomach, slowly up and over my breast, "I'm going to fuck you until you scream. . ." I'm sure that the wetness from my body must be soaking into her jeans but I'm trapped beneath her and can't do anything about it. My eyes close for a moment.
"Uh. . . do you think you can do that?" I ask, wanting to be cheeky because she is, but my quick, shallow breaths give me away and all I want to do is rip her clothes off and she won't let me. She grins.
"Oh I know I can," she replies. With my arms pinned above my head, she slowly kisses my left breast, her tongue sliding over my nipple and circling it slowly, and I lay there, involuntarily pressing my pelvis up against her over and over. I want to squeeze her to me; I don't want her to take her mouth away, oh God. I push with my chest against the pressure of her mouth, and she sucks my nipple in response, with a low murmur, and my thighs spasm.
"Uhhhnnn, I want to touch you," I moan in frustration. I want her skin, I want her naked with me. I'm so vulnerable right now, so. . . topped. I feel like such a girl, and it's so alien to me, and the hot frustration is making me want to dig my nails into her flesh.
"Where do you want to touch me?" she asks, her mouth close to mine, and she is slowly grinding against me, teasing me, the fabric of her jeans rough against the tender parts of me.
"I want to feel your skin," I whimper.
"Mmm," she murmurs, kissing me, sucking my lower lip for a second before releasing it. "Yeah, that would be nice but it's my turn."