I Don't Like YoubyBayjaytay©
Susan and Gretchen and I met when we were in the 6th grade. Well, Susan was in the 4th grade, but anyway, we became friends right away. They are British and their Dad had gotten a job in the town where I grew up. I had been in the 4th grade when we moved there, so I was an outsider too so we gravitated towards each other and we have remained close ever since.
We must have looked kind of funny – two blonde girls and a little black girl. Their parents didn't seem to mind that I was black and they were wonderful to me. They regarded me as another daughter and mine felt the same way about them. Their dad once cursed out a neighbor who said something to him about having a little black child at his house so much.
We went from playing dolls together to trading teen magazines to records to going to concerts together. We had planned to go to college together and we were going to discover the world together and just as that was looking like a reality, their father's job transferred him back to England so they all moved back home.
We were devastated. We were used to spending time together and we had looked forward to college being our next big experience, but it wasn't to be. I went to college in Miami and they both went to schools in London.
Every chance they got, they came to visit me and I started going over to visit them. Our relationship didn't change one bit. It was perfect except for one thing: Gretchen's twin brother Gregory who was a born pain in the ass.
He'd always wanted to horn in on what we were doing and we had always chased him away. He was just a little annoyance for years but as he became a teenager, he got big and muscular and strong. He still wanted to be around us and he was too big to chase away anymore so we would just let him stay. I think he wanted to learn about girls from being with us. He had lots of girls chasing him. He was a big blonde with long hair and rippling muscles and yeah, he was cute but he had become so arrogant and snotty!
He would interrupt our conversations, argue with us and demand attention. We often ended up listening to his problems and he rarely listened to ours. He got loud and pushy and I just couldn't stand him. He seemingly tolerated me because of his sisters. We didn't talk much and we were just barely civil to each other. But he was just always there. We would be in Susan's room talking about something really important like whether or not this cute boy at school was going steady and Gregory would come in and lie across the bed and tell us that the guy had a girlfriend and that he didn't like any of us. Or he would just lay there and listen to us and of course we couldn't discuss what we wanted with him there!
As we got older, things mellowed but the girls and I were still close. We took trips together across Europe and to Vegas and to the Grand Canyon. We went through bad romances and good ones and we were still the best of friends. They all remained in London but Gretchen got married so they didn't all live together anymore.
One year, I had been suffering with a shoulder problem and I finally had surgery on it. I had been teaching college English a while and I needed some time to rest and Gretchen insisted I come spend the time with her. After I got the splint off, I happily went to her. She said she knew a great physical therapist that would be happy to rehab me and with my doctors' approval, I set off for London for a couple of months.
Gretchen and her husband lived in a big 2 flat house in St. Johns Wood and Gregory lived in the flat above them. She said he had just broken up with a girl he'd been with for almost 2 years and he hadn't taken it well. He'd been depressed and lonely and she was concerned about him. She thought my being there would cheer him up some. I wasn't sure about that. He and I often ended up fighting after a few minute together but I figured I could go easy on him this time.
Years had passed and I thought perhaps he and I could at least be friendly to each other so I was prepared to be gentle considering his recent heartbreak. I knew how men were when they had been dumped.
Gretchen's husband Bill was a kick. He was a chef and owned a fancy schmancy restaurant that was the hottest thing going. I liked him immediately. He was a big bear of a man but he was sweet and funny. We were going to have a big dinner at his restaurant that night and Susan had was going to join us.
While I was getting dressed, there was a knock at my door and I figured it was Gretchen so I said come in. To my surprise, Gregory stepped in instead.
When had he gotten so gorgeous? I thought. His blonde hair was long and curly and down to his shoulders. His body was magnificent. You could eat off that 6 pack he had. His legs were big and long and he looked like a big golden god or something. But it was still Gregory, so I smiled and greeted him with the name I had always called him, "Hey Butthead."
He gave me a little smile, "Hello, Little Snot," he said, returning the childish insults we had always hurled at each other.
"You look good," I said, rather lamely. Good did not begin to describe how Gregory looked.
"As do you," he replied, "still teaching English?"
"Yeah. I am."
"I heard you had surgery on your shoulder."
"Yes, I did. Rotator cuff. I guess I will need some physical therapy on it for a while."
"So I hear. Have you managed to find a man who could stand being around you for longer than a fortnight?"
He was baiting me as always.
"I hear you couldn't keep a woman around you," I retorted.
"Sad but true. She wasn't enough for me anyway," he snapped back, his eyes twinkling.
"She's probably thinking how lucky she is to have dumped your ass about now," I replied.
"Same old Sam," he said, shaking his head, "talking about things you don't know. Tell Gretch I shall be a bit late for dinner. See you," and he left the room.
That night, Gregory spent the night dominating the discussion with his complaints about his ex girlfriend and how women were too harsh, demanded too much and how we used men for what we wanted. I was mad enough to put a fork in his head as usual.
"If you weren't so arrogant, you'd see that it's not what we demand. You think women don't see that you are selfish? You have always been that way and I'm surprised anyone would spend any time with you at all!"
"You stupid little twat," he hissed, "my being confident does not make me arrogant. I gave my girlfriend everything she wanted and she still wanted more. What more could I do?"
"Did you spend any time with her? Did you listen to her when she talked to you or did you just wait for her to stop talking so you could tell her what to do? Did you ever consider how she felt or was it all about you as usual?" I hurled back.
He glared at me across the table and I knew I had hit a nerve. Bill called a truce and we all began to eat.
I saw Gregory looking at me all evening and I tried to ignore him. I knew he wanted to continue the discussion later and normally, I would be ready. But that night, I was tired. After dinner, we went home and I took a shower and went to bed immediately.
I had fallen into the habit of sleeping nude because of the heat and humidity in Miami. I mostly slept with a fan directly on me because I loved feeling the breeze on my bare skin and Gretchen had remembered and had put a big fan next to my bed. I was full and comfortable and I fell asleep quickly.
I was having the most delicious dream that night. Someone was kissing my legs, moving up my body slowly. His kisses were languorous and mixed with licks and soft nips. I opened my legs to allow him access to my pussy. His fingers were strong and yet soft. His mouth was insistent, slowly working its way up my thighs and stopping and kissing at that juncture where the tops of my thighs and my body met. That is a guaranteed turn on for me.
He opened my legs even more and I felt his tongue licking my pussy, long sweet licks, separating my lips with his tongue and his licks. My God, that felt good! His finger went inside me and then back out and he said softly, "Your pussy tastes as sweet as I knew it would," and then I felt his tongue swirling around my clitoris.
This dream was fantastic! I reached down and got a hand full of curly hair. I opened my eyes because it felt so good and to my surprise, I wasn't dreaming. It was Gregory!
"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice a squeal. Never in a million years had I expected to find him in bed with me!
"I'm eating your pussy, silly twat," he replied, "shut up and let me finish you."
He always called me a silly twat and it always pissed me off. But he was really eating my pussy quite well. Very well, actually and I was going to come very soon and I told him.
"Good....let it come. I want to feel it..." he said.
And I did. He smiled and began kissing his way back up my body, up my stomach to my breasts. He took them in his hands and smiled at me.
"I've wanted to see these tits for 30 years. I tried to peek at you when you spent the night with us before. I knew they were nice but they're better than I imagined," he told me as he licked around the areola of my left and most sensitive nipple, "mmmm.....yes, I could suck this all night. I understand you like this. Your tits are sensitive, aren't they?"
"Yes, but..."I started,
"Shut up. Don't ruin it. I want to suck your tits and I will."
I wanted to tell him to stop. I wished I was strong enough to push him off me and out of the bed. Never in my life had I thought about having sex with Gregory (ok, well, yeah, there was that one time....) and this was freaking me out. But he felt so good and he was giving me just the right combination of sucking and licking that I loved.
"Gregory," I moaned, "oh shit...."
"I said shut up," he said, gazing up at me, "stop talking. Enjoy this with me."
His fingers were stroking my clit and he was sucking my tits and I was going to come. Hard. My back arched up and the waves hit me and I hung on to him and when I finally stopped and looked at him, he was climbing over me. He kissed me and I tasted my own salty sweetness on his lips. His kiss was rough almost, but intense and I put my arms around his neck and held him fast.
He was a fantastic kisser and I felt the wetness starting again in my pussy. And I felt his cock, big and hard pressing against me. I looked down and saw it and gasped. I had no idea Gregory had a dick that big! He grinned as he rubbed it right in my split to get it wet.
"Now," he said, "we need to get something straight between us. I know you don't like me....." and he pushed that cock into me just slightly.
"....and you think I'm arrogant and that I'm selfish...."
And he pushed it in just a bit more. I realized that because he was so big, he knew had to be easy with it and I was rethinking some of what I had always believed about him. But was I going to say that?
"Yes, you are arrogant...." I said softly.
"And I'm an asshole too, right?"
He pulled back out of me and I felt empty for a moment.
"Yes, you are an asshole!" I agreed, angry because he had pulled out of me just when it was getting good.
"Okay, I'm an asshole. You say I always interrupt you when you're talking...."
"You do," I said, 'you always do. You never let me finish...oh God!" I squealed as he pushed inside me again.
"You never stop talking long enough to let me say what I want to so I have to interrupt you. Oh, wow, I did it again, didn't I?" he teased, beginning to stroke inside me.
"Fuck, Gregory..." I moaned.
"Yes, fuck is right," he replied. "I have wanted to fuck you forever and I'm going to do it now and I'm going to do it good. I'm going to fuck you like I always wanted to. And you're going to like it."
I already liked it but I wasn't going to give in. Not yet.
"It's just like you to do this without asking me...." I started. He pulled out again. "...you fucking bastard!"
"I didn't need to ask you," he slid it back in, slowly all the way this time. "You would have said no and I didn't want to argue with you. I want to fuck you."
He took my groan as agreeing and pulled back just a bit.
"Now, as I was saying, you don't like me, do you?"
"No! You always treat me as if I'm stupid!" I squealed.
"No baby, I know you're not stupid," he said, his voice soothing, "you kind of intimidated me for a long time. You scared me. I had to grow up to learn to deal with you. Fuck, your pussy is good...."
I had tightened my muscles around him and I saw the look in his eyes.
"But now I know what to do with you. I have to show you how I feel about you."
"You just want to fuck me!" I said weakly.
"Oh yes, I want to fuck you. I am fucking you and I will again."
"No!" I cried because he had pulled out again.
Dammit, was he going to fuck me or torment me?
"Stop doing that!" I yelled.
"Doing what?" he asked, his voice soft again. His cock eased inside me and went in and out for a minute and I was loving the way he felt.
"Pulling out of me! Fuck me if you're going to!"
"You want me to fuck you?" he asked, pulling back till he was nearly out again.
"You bastard!" I hissed.
"Yeah, ok, I'm a bastard and you're a twat. But tell me you want me to fuck you and I will."
He was rubbing his cock up and down my pussy.
"Say it, Sam. Tell me what you want. Say it."
"Goddamn it, Gregory, fuck me! I want you to fuck me!"
"Ah yes....that's it..." he said and he buried his cock inside me again, "yes, yes, that's it. Now say please and I will fuck the shit out of you."
I was mad but I was more turned on than I had ever been in my life. It would take Gregory to bring that kind of emotion out of me, the bastard.
"Please," I said, holding him tight, "please, please fuck me. I want you to fuck me, Gregory. Please."
"Yes my darling," he said, "I will. Your pussy is so fucking tight!"
And then he got down. I mean he got busy. That man fucked me better than I had ever had it in my life. He wore my ass out. How was I supposed to know that he could fuck like that? And did he stop? No. He turned me over on my stomach, pushed two pillows under me, propping up my ass and then he went down on me again from the back and got me so wet I couldn't believe it myself and then he slyly eased that cock in me again and did it some more. I swear I saw stars. I was calling Jesus and every saint in Heaven I could think of. My legs were trembling and he just held me fast and kept pumping, in and out, hard, deep and strong.
"You're gonna make me cum," he whispered, "and I'm gonna cum inside you. My hot cum up in your pussy is gonna be so fucking good. And then when I rest, I'm going to fuck you again. I want some more of this pussy. I knew it was good. I knew it...oh fuck, fuck yes...oh, God yes..."
I was out of my mind by then. Just hearing him talk was enough to get me there but then he touched my clit again and I came too.
We lay in bed together, panting and breathing hard and wanting more. He had that smug smile on his face that used to piss me off. And he also had that perfect body. Not an ounce of fat on him. And I looked at my own body, a bit too much stomach and thighs and wondered why he was looking at me the way he was.
"I know what you're thinking," he said softly, touching my neck. He leaned over and kissed me right at my collarbone. Something moved inside my heart.
"What am I thinking?" I asked.
"You women make me sick worrying about a little fat here or there. You're supposed to have some fat on you. It's what gives you these curves that are so sweet."
He moved down and kissed my stomach.
"Like this. This is just sweet. I love it,"
Okay. Maybe Gregory wasn't as big an asshole as I thought he was. Then he licked my thighs again in that spot. Things got a little hazy for me.
"Your thighs are delicious just as they are. Just like this sweet pussy. I used to wank all the time thinking about your pussy. It's even better than I thought it would be. We shouldn't have been fighting, Sammie. We should have been fucking."
And then he was inside me again. I couldn't believe it was Gregory, bratty, mouthy snotty Gregory making me feel so damn good.
When I woke up, he was gone. No note, nothing. Just like him, I thought. Well, I had to go to my first day of physical therapy and I wasn't looking forward to it. I knew it was going to hurt. I felt good from the sex Gregory and I had shared, but I had hoped he would have stayed and talked to me.
I slept late and then lay in bed watching television. My appointment wasn't until later in the afternoon so I had some time. I wore a tank top and put a sweater on top and pulled on a skirt and stepped into my Doc Martens and figured I looked funky enough and went downstairs. Gretchen was there and so was Bill. We talked small talk and I didn't tell her what had happened. She was giving me sly smiles all the time but she didn't mention it either.
When it was time for me to leave, Bill dropped me off at the clinic and left without saying a word about how I was going to get home. That irritated me but I kind of knew my way around and figured I'd take the Tube and maybe go do a bit of shopping.
It was a nice clinic, kind of posh, as Gretch and Susan would say. Very nice on the inside with pictures of football stars and such that had been there. The receptionist was very sweet too and the nurse came and led me to a smaller but extremely nice room and said my therapist would be there soon. I sat there and looked around. There was a desk and a couch and a big exercise ball and other things like that. She had asked me to sit on one of the machines that was sort of a big recliner. I laid back and she turned something on and the chair was massaging me. It felt wonderful.
Pink Floyd was playing and the room was softly lit and the recliner thingy was real comfy and so I leaned back and closed my eyes and then I heard the door shut and I looked up right into Gregory's eyes. He was wearing a white stretch tee shirt and white pants. And he was smiling.
"Hello, Sammie. You're my patient for the day."
I blinked and stared at him.
"You? You're my therapist?" I gasped.
He locked the door and came back to the recliner and touched my shoulder.
"Of course I am."
He pointed at the degrees and certifications and all on the wall. I hadn't even looked at them.
"You are my only patient this afternoon," he said, "I saw that you had some range of motion in that shoulder last night. Please take off your sweater," he said, sounding professional.
How could he be so cold after what we had done the night before? I felt my temper starting to build.
I took the sweater off and he moved closer and said, "The tee shirt too, love,"
I took it off and then I felt his hands on my bra strap. He unsnapped it like a pro and then sat on the side of the recliner and looked at my shoulder. He lifted my arm and let it down and gazed at the scar and leaned over and kissed it.
"It's healing nicely, Sammie. How long has it been since your surgery?"
"Six weeks," I replied.
"Take off your skirt and shoes. Get naked for me," he said, his voice in my ear.
I didn't resist. I slid my skirt and panties down my legs and he took my panties and sniffed them and smiled at me. He stood up and slipped out of his shirt and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. His eyes never left me as he quickly and quietly undressed. I didn't know what to think except I was again admiring his beautiful body. His hair was pulled back in a pony tail and I noticed how long his lashes were. I had never noticed that before.
He climbed onto the recliner over me and kissed me, a gentle sweet kiss, his tongue probing inside my mouth. I was breathless. His kisses trailed down my throat to my shoulder and he kissed my scar again.