Monday Sneak Peek: Aftermath (Patreon)

There's a lot to pick from, but having shared a peek at the threesome at Julia's place last week, I thought for this week we'd pick up in the immediate aftermath. Kicked out by Julia and not wanting to be alone afterwards, "Cindy" spends the night at Jonas's apartment, waking up next to him the following morning...

Warning: explicit details

***

            “You’re beautiful,” he said.

            He deserved better. Better than a basket case at his door at midnight, desperate for company and erupting into tears the moment he got her through the door. He took me in his arms and held me. Bruno, his roommate, rolled his eyes and shook his head with disapproval as Jonas led me to his room. Last night, Jonas looked as he did that first night at the club when he allowed me to sit with him: transfigured by kindness into someone truly beautiful. When the crying eased, I kissed him, at first very tenderly but then with increasing passion. He kissed me in return, and he held me through the night.

            Nothing else happened, and he kept the nightmares at bay.

            “Thank you.” I sat up in his bed, the sheets pooling around my waist, and stretched. He blushed at the rise and fall of my tits.

            I smiled. Or rather, I performed a smile; inside, I still felt empty and removed from the events happening around me. Was this me, in some college-kid’s bedroom? And was this really me, slowly crawling across the bed towards him, tits swaying with my approach?

            “You like these?” not-me said, one hand cupping a dangling breast.

            He nodded, transfixed.

            And because I knew it’s what he expected, or at least hoped for, even though he was too kind or afraid or weak to ask, I reached for and found the pole tenting his sheets.

            “You don’t have to—” he started, but I silenced him with a kiss.

            I pushed him down onto the bed. Still distant from these things my body did, I straddled the boy’s thighs. Leaned forward over him and with a hand at either side pressed my tits around his cock and felt the warmth between my soft flesh. I held him there and smiled and then rubbed up and down a few times. He grew harder, and I licked the tip and he groaned and looked at me with such hopefully anticipation I couldn’t help but grin. I took him in mouth. I did this without hesitation but began to hear Julia’s voice: lick the shaft. Open your mouth. Once, twice, slowly now. That’s right. Not with your mouth full.

            For the first time that morning I felt—something; an acorn of sentiment nurtured by Jonas’ kindness and Julia’s cruelty. This seed grew and blossomed and shot out vibrant branches. I stopped, with Jonas’s cock still in my mouth, and shuddered.

             You do look adorable like that, trilled her voice.

            “You okay?” his voice both distant and near.

            And the tremor that ran down my body was hot and angry—a sudden, wrenching fury at last night’s events; but also gratitude and warmth, for this ridiculous boy who held me when I needed him.

            Pulling back, I smiled and it was me smiling, and I felt within myself again. Determinedly, I pushed Julia’s voice out of my head. I would pleasure this boy my way. His pleasure was under my control. This moment together would be fun and deliberate and above all else kind, untainted by cruelty.

            Long blonde hair tickled his chest and waist and cock as I slid backwards. Then I slowly, gently kissed my way back up his leg, starting from the ankle all the way up to his thighs, dancing around his erect penis, over his abdomen, a lick around the bellybutton, a wicked flash of the eyes as I kissed and licked his nipples and briefly sucked—he jerked and laughed uncertainly and then—a final kiss on the lips before diving back down on him.

            It didn’t take long. Jonas gasped and grunted, and his fingers curled into the bedsheets, and I felt fiercely proud at how easily I could bring him to climax, now. This was my fourth time going down on him, and I knew his cock. His hips bucked once, twice and I felt his cum at the back of my throat. Holding his jizz on my tongue, I padded out of his bedroom and spat it out in the sink and rinsed and when I returned, he smiled at me, and I smiled at him.

            He went to speak.

            “Don’t you fucking dare thank me,” I said.

            What I’d just done made this guy happy, and it’d been done on my terms. I didn’t need Julia’s instructions. This boy wasn’t part of her plans to humiliate me. He was mine, and what I did this morning was my choice. Julia didn’t need to know about this boy or this part of my life.

            Jonas watched as I dressed, unwrapping one of the cheap-and-cheerful bra-and-panty sets from yesterday, a fire-hydrant red balconette and thong. With few other options, I pulled the sparkly miniskirt back on but stared balefully at the bustier. No fucking way. Instead, I picked up Jonas’s t-shirt from where he’d tossed it on the floor last night. It was black; on it, in red silhouette, a man with shotgun and chainsaw standing on the roof of a car as a crimson horde of zombies closed in. It fit, though tight around the boobs and too long. I tied it off beneath my bra, exposing a well-toned midriff.

            “How do I look?”

            He opened his mouth to speak.

            “And if you give me some bullshit about patriarchal corporate oppression manufacturing feminine insecurities pushing me to seek validation, I’ll—"

            “You look really great,” he interrupted.

            “Thank you.” I smiled. “You mind?” I indicated his t-shirt.

            “I don’t know.” He tore his eyes away from my tits. “I like that shirt. Will I see you again?”

            I sat next to him on the bed. “Maybe? Probably.”

            “As a girlfriend?”

            “Probably not.” I stroked his chin with the back of my hand and kissed him gently on the lips. "No."

            “Why not?” he asked after we were done.
            And because I couldn’t tell him the actual truth, I told him something else that was equally true and easier to accept. “Because I’m too fucked up, Jonas,” I said. “And you’re too nice. There’s bad shit going on in my life right now. And you don’t deserve it. I wouldn’t wish that on you. I’ll use you.” I already had. “And I’ll hurt you.” I held my hand over his chest. “Here,” I said. And then I kissed his temple. “And here.”

            He considered my words. “Then why call me last night?”

            “Because I’m weak.” My laugh was small and a little sad. “Because sometimes, a girl really just needs a cuddle from a nice boy.”