Home By Eight

Whether or not he made a legitimate emotional connection might never be known, but there was no denying Cindy responded instantly to him physically. She held him tightly around the waist, passionately, with a femininity utterly foreign to the lonely boy kissing her. Martin moved his lips down her cheek to her chin, then down her neck, pressing his hot tongue against her flesh as he moved, the way Brit had taught him that one summer in junior high. In a naïve way he thought of all the "moves" he wanted to try out tonight.

"Ohh," Cindy moaned, encouraging him on. She reached behind and unhooked her strapless bra. Martin did not even notice it fall to the floor. All he knew was that he now saw his first pair of breasts, staring at him in all their stark, soft, round reality. Martin fell to his knees to put his face in her chest; she was too tall, so he unbuckled the tiny straps of her heels and slipped them off her feet. As he knelt, he stared hard at the black lace thong covering Cindy's crotch. He was fascinated by it all -- the thinness of the fancy material, the tiny straps wrapping around her flawless hips, the smoothness of her skin and the firmness of her tummy. He'd done nothing to deserve such perfection, so he spent one last moment marveling at the fluke and put such self-depreciating thoughts aside for the remainder of the hotel visit.

So slowly did he touch the panties, so apprehensively did he pull the material down over her hips, that Cindy began to breathe hard. She put her hands on Martin's shoulders and gripped tightly. Martin did not mean to tease her; it's just that a part of him didn't actually believe he had permission to perform such a sacred act. As the silk descended to uncover Cindy's soft, curved mound of pelvic flesh, completely bald, Martin regained that center of animal lust that lives in all men, and he was finally in the right frame of mind for some good hard sex.

Cindy knelt as well, and she kissed Martin on the lips again. Her tongue slipped inside his lips, and she lashed at his dry mouth with expert skill. He felt her probing him, moving over his slick teeth, inspecting the roof and gums, wetting him with her moist, hot breath and warm saliva. Martin lifted his hands to Cindy's breasts and fondled her reverently, brushing his fingers over her stony nipples. She shivered, then moaned hard into his mouth. Her hands dropped from his shoulders to his waist.

The girl hooked her thumbs inside Martin's underpants and tugged them down off his hips, pulling them out and down so his hard cock could spring up. As she tentatively placed her hand around his cock, she continued to kiss him with her eyes closed (Martin opened his eyes to see). An electric shock spread through Martin, surprising him with its intensity, and his hands moved down to Cindy's ass.

For the first time, Cindy and Martin pressed their naked bodies against each other, kneeling on the floor like bride and groom soon after the ceremony, or at least like two people desperate to protect one another from the forces of the world that drive lovers apart. Martin's cock twitched in Cindy's hand, the head thumping against her tummy.

"Take me to the bed," Cindy growled softly in Martin's ear.

Martin took Cindy by the hand and helped her to her feet, kicking off his shorts. He took her to the bed, where he laid on his back. When he remembered what he'd left in his pants pocket, the condoms, Martin looked over at the dresser. But Cindy placed one finger on his cheek and turned him back to look at her, crouching over his naked body. "Shhhhh," she said. "Don't worry, you can pull out."

The goddess was gone; the innocent was gone. All that remained, hovering over him with all the intensity of a storm cloud, was a spirit of heat and flesh and meat. This must be the last thing the male preying mantis sees, Martin suspected, before the spouse devours him.

"Baby," Cindy said, and she meant Martin, not something to be taken for granted. She pressed her legs against his sides and rested her smooth bottom on his tummy. Martin wanted to touch her boobies again, and so he did, cupping them in his sweaty hands, pinching the nipples between thumb and finger. Cindy's mouth opened wide as she reached behind and found Martin's cock. The feel of her hand made him throb.

She held the erect member at an angle, and then she moved her body backward slowly. The head pressed against her anus, and then Cindy moved it down to the opening in between her legs. Where before Martin had felt warm flesh, he now felt something burning like boiling water, steamy and heavy. The head of the penis slipped very, very easily in-between the slippery lips of Cindy's pussy, pushing the flesh apart with a sticky separating sensation.

"Oh my god," Cindy said. She looked deep in Martin's eyes. He had never felt so safe in his whole life.

As Cindy sat back, Martin's penis naturally progressed deeper inside her. Cindy closed her eyes and then, curiously, she laced her fingers together like a praying child, as she allowed her weight to pull her down onto the cock. Martin felt his heart pounding with frightening force. Nothing in the world existed except the hot, wet flesh pressing so hard around him, trying to grip him but unable to stop his frictioned advance deeper into the tunnel. A trickle of something warm ran down Martin's balls and over his anus.

After Martin was completely buried inside his date, she tossed her head back, eyes still closed, and she grabbed her own breasts. At first she simply shuddered and shook on top of Martin, her tight body twisting in short jerky movements, her tits bouncing under the hands that held them. Then, Cindy began to ride Martin, up and down, a gentle slamming onto his balls, stroking his rod like a piston in some animal-like machine.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah," Cindy sighed in a tender voice. She licked her lips, then opened her mouth wide and continued the gasping. Martin held her by her hips, helping her lift her body then slam it down. The tight pressure of her vagina was replaced with a creamy, sloppy caress, still gripping him hard but not in the constricting way of earlier. Martin could not take his eyes off the girl who fucked him, lost in her own passions, oblivious to anything other than the same sensation that dominated Martin's world.

Martin began to come, but he refused. Instead of moving with Cindy, he tensed all his muscles and went rigid below her. Cindy continued to hump his cock, and her moanings were turning louder. Then, Cindy jerked like she'd been hit by an arrow, then another jerk, and then she started to ebb and flow in a wave above Martin; her orgasm has arrived, and it washed over her with fiery determination.

"Oh god!" Cindy squealed in a high-pitched voice. Then she went silent as she rode out the barrage of passion flooding her body. Her cunt muscles gripped Martin with vicious strength, and he knew he was about to come. He pulled out of her, not waiting for her orgasm to end, and he sent his sperm flying onto his own tummy. Cindy lay on his thighs, disconnected. After she recovered, she looked down into Martin's eyes with devilish knowledge. She ran her fingers through the sperm in Martin's pubic hair, lifting one finger to her lips to clean it off. Martin's satisfied cock twitched at the sight.

"That was nice," Cindy whispered.

"Nice" was not the word that came to Martin's mind, but it would do until he could develop coherent thoughts again.

A cell phone rang. Cindy looked back at her pile of sequined clothing. The ringing came from her handbag, but she made no move to lift herself from the bed; she had not fully recovered. The ringing stopped.

Martin didn't know what to say, so he remained silent. After five minutes or so, Cindy swung her leg over Martin and got off the bed. She walked across the room, regal as a queen or a victorious athlete, leaned over and retrieved her phone. She hit some keys.

"Hello, you called?… Nooo… Okay okay, I'm sorry… Yes, I'll be there soon… I don't know, I'll see… Bitch, chill out! I told you I'm on my way… You're kidding! She didn't!… She's such a whore… Okay, save me a seat at your table… No, don't tell him anything, I'll see him when I see him… Okay, bye."

She dropped the phone back into her purse. "Get dressed," she said. The sun had begun to descend below the horizon, and Cindy turned on a lamp to find her clothes. She dressed herself, still standing naked in front of the hotel window. Martin stood on unsteady legs, used a washcloth to clean himself off. He put on his clothes as quickly as he could. Now he was looking forward to the prom in earnest, and even more, to what would follow the prom. He had the best prom date in a thousand-mile radius.

Cindy held his hand as they went down the elevators to the car. This time, she sat in the driver's seat. They went back to their suburb, listening to some CD in Cindy's car stereo. Now it was Martin's turn to stare out the window and contemplate life. Leaving downtown meant going to the dance without dinner, but he wasn't really hungry anyway, and maybe he could get out of buying the expensive, obligatory prom gourmet supper. Everything seemed to be working out.

The car made a wrong turn. They were not headed for the school.

"Cindy," Martin said apprehensively, "are we going to the school?"

"Well," Cindy began, "that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Then she stopped speaking. Martin waited for more. "Well?" he prodded. She probably wanted more sex, this time in the Beemer.

"The thing is, I'm going to the prom with Doug. I always meant to, I just wanted to teach him a lesson. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I guess I just didn't think this thing all the way through."

Wait a minute, Martin thought. This… wasn't happening. What had she said?

"Look, you're really nice, and I appreciate you asking me out tonight. I guess I felt bad for not being able to go the prom with you, and I wanted to make it up to you. It was nice, don't you think?"

But it wasn't nice. It was perfect, and passionate, and pathetic, and deeply flawed in every way that a mishandled human connection can be flawed, and it was, above all, over. The one thing it hadn't been was nice. How could he tell her the disappointment he felt? But she probably already knew, she wasn't stupid. She just didn't care. Suddenly he saw himself as very cheap, and stupid.

"Why the tux?" he asked, betraying no emotion, because he felt none.

"I… shit, I thought I might take you after all, at some point. Please don't be mad. You can still go to the prom, you know."

"With who?" Martin asked.

Cindy avoided the question. "Can you tell me where you live?" she asked, trying to sound chipper.

"4510 Silver," Martin said. "Behind the mall."

They rode the last five minutes of the drive in complete silence; even the radio was off now. Cindy pulled up to the curb. "I had a really nice time," she said, but her smiles were gone now, never to return. Only the celebrity remained. "You can tell people we fucked," she continued. "I don't mind, really."

Martin got out of the car and started to walk up the sidewalk to his door. Then, for no reason, he sat on the curb. Cindy was still there, engine running. She rolled down the window and stuck her head out. Her hair remained perfect, tall and sculpted.

"Hey Marty, will you be okay?"

"No one calls me Marty," he said, staring at nothing.

"I'll see you at school, okay?" Then without waiting for a response, Cindy pulled away from the curb. Moments later, her taillights vanished around the corner. She was gone.

Martin felt ill. He tried to discern what lesson he was meant to have learned from all this, but there was none. He hated people no more nor less than he had before the day started. His opinions had neither been reinforced nor modified; they simply remained open to further data. But he knew one thing for sure. His senior prom sure was one of the suckiest moments of his entire life.

The pink and orange of the horizon faded completely, leaving only the black haze of a suburban night. At eight o'clock, he stood and went inside. No one greeted him, so he went upstairs, changed, then played video games.