The next morning we sat at the breakfast table with the rest of the Michael’s family, trying and failing miserably to look nonchalant. My hair was a bird’s nest. It hurt to walk, but given the pounding I got last night I was just glad to be walking upright. Brian fared better. His only obvious tell of our adventures the night before was when he would zone out mid-bite, lost in memory and out of it from too little sleep. We kept exchanging meaningful looks across the table, and now and again I would break out an insuppressible smile. Anyone suspecting anything would be easily convinced, but it looked like no one was.
As soon as we could get away we did, bolting from the table about five minutes apart. After a loud detour to his own room to throw any tail, Brian sneaked through my door, erect but still exhausted. I was able to fulfill my tease to Brian by letting him coat my tits in jizz from a Jesse Patel Handjob (patent pending), but after bringing each other to orgasm with hands and tongues, we were both too spent to do anything more than cuddle and make out. It’s a nice way to spend a Saturday morning, curled up with a sexy guy who only wants to explore the recesses of your body and get lost in your lips.
We showered (separately, to Brian’s disappointment) and tried to act casual until that night. Then Brian snuck back into my room and fucked me every way we could think of, cumming in me, on me, and turning my bed into a sticky mess. Truthfully, that night is a blur of one intense blur of orgasm after orgasm. Body parts and body fluids swirling through my memory to the song of ecstatic moans. Sure beats calculus.
I woke up the next morning alone in my bed, Brian having left early so he could be woken up for mass as usual. After taking some time to clean dried jizz off my face- I had given Brian that tit-fuck he wanted- I set to work cleaning my room. The juxtaposition of Brian, probably sitting in the cathedral, and me cleaning up the evidence of a night of wild, pre-marital fornication gave me no end of amusement. Somehow I doubted he would bring this up in confession.
The school week was hell. We hardly saw each other during the day because of our wildly different schedules, and we couldn’t stay up late to fuck like we did on the weekends. Every once in a while we could sneak in a sloppy blowjob in the boys bathroom or a quickie in the coat closet, but besides that it was nothing that didn’t run on batteries for me. I was able to start on birth control though, which was a relief to all involved.
Saturday morning found Brian’s head between my thighs, driving me crazy with what he assured me was his “well-practiced” cunnilingus technique. I had come twice already, and the third came smoothly upon me, raising me up in ecstasy at the flicking of Brian’s tongue. Brian lifted his head up when all was through and smiled broadly at me, my juices dripping from his jaw.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Brian teased. I laughed in response, still trying to ride the afterglow.
“Yeah, you told me.” Brian crawled up alongside my stretched out, naked, form and played with my hair.
“Jess?”
“Mhm.”
“Are we exclusive?”
My first instinct was to slap him. Of course we’re exclusive! You belong to me and no other woman can have you! But I quickly regained control of my impulses and began to think it out. We hadn’t really discussed the terms of our relationship beforehand, and we definitely weren’t dating. He’d had scores of women before, so I’d always known he wasn’t mine alone, but it still hurt a little to imagine him with anyone else now that we’d shared so much. It was a painful pill to swallow, but I had to answer:
“No, I guess we’re not.”
Brian could tell I was crestfallen. Like any good guy would do in this situation, he kissed me. When he came up, he tried to comfort me.
“Don’t worry, Jess. I’m not asking because I have a hundred girls after me.