Diner

'That's what you were looking at? Funny, I coulda swore it was my ass.'

'Mm. Maybe that too.'

He's stroking my hair now. We laugh a little, and with him looking at me like that, I suddenly feel like I am the most beautiful, sexy, girl in the world. I pull his face toward me with both hands, enjoying the feel of his stubble on my palms, and kiss him. He moves in so he can put his arms all around me. First one hand, then two, push past my waist to my ass, and press me harder up against him. I have to break the kiss to breathe.

'Do you need to be anywhere tonight?' he suddenly asks me, as if it's only just occurred to him.

'No,' I shake my head. 'It's just me and my little apartment.'

'You have your own place?'

'Uh-huh'

'Huh. I somehow thought you'd be living at home with your folks.'

'Nope. I moved out soon as I could. Been living alone for nearly six years by now.'

'Six years?'

I laugh at this, at the look on his face. 'Yes. I'm older than I look, I guess. I'm twenty two.'

'Wow. Twenty two. I would never have said that. I mean, I know you're older than eighteen to be working in Mac's diner, but I wouldn't have put you much older than that.'

'You know Mac?' It's my turn to be surprised.

'Sure. We're related through my mother's side, somehow.'

And we both smile at this. Most people are related, here on the reservation.

'How come I haven't seen you before?'

'I've been away, up north, visiting some relatives there, helping out on their land. But I'm sure glad I'm back.' All this while, his hands have been doing some magic on me, and now one of them slips between my legs again. This time I jump not out of surprise, but from pleasure. I bury my head on his chest and find myself alternately pushing back onto his hand and forwards to press against his jeans. He presses the flat of his hand in-between my legs, making me spread them more widely, and I kneel there while his fingers explore me through the cotton of my knickers. I am pretty wet. I'm starting to get light-headed. I reach in front of me to his jeans, press my hand along the length of his cock. I've only gotten this close to two others before now, and I'm starting to think that this one is a little bigger than I've had experience of. A low grunt comes out of his throat and he grips me tighter, pulls us down until we are lying back on the blankets, facing each other. Now his hand is finding me from the front. He rubs me some more, through my knickers, and then he's hooking his fingers underneath the cotton, and his first touch on my skin nearly causes me to stop breathing altogether, and I'm gasping in his ear. I can't stop gasping and moving my hips to stay on his hand.

And then I do stop myself, by pulling away. He looks surprised. 'What? I wasn't doing that right?'

'Oh no. That was good. Amazing. But -', I don't know how to say it. 'Your turn?' I wait.

'My turn? We're just here doing what feels good for both of us, aren't we? There's no 'taking turns' in that.' He is stroking my hair. 'I thought you were enjoying it. And I wanted you to.'

I think about this. My heart won't slow down, so thinking is difficult.

'Is that what's it been like before? Taking turns? A guy who makes you 'take turns'?'

A stab of misery and shame just makes me feel even worse now.

Jim is shaking his head and his hand strokes my cheek and jaw. I can smell myself on him. I take a hold of him, push his fingers in my mouth and suck on them. His eyes nearly pop out of his head and that makes me smile at him. I release him and he trails his fingers down my chin and neck, leaving a trail of saliva that goes chill in the air.

'I guess neither of my exes was a prince,' I say, wryly.

'You can say that again.' He shuffles me closer to him. 'This is about the both of us. What makes both of us feel good. Whatever takes our mood, you know?'

'I'll try to get the hang of it.'

This makes him throw his head back and let out a laugh that is like a howling animal, and I take advantage, to start kissing his neck. I smell a mix of woodsmoke and soap on him.

'You are funny, Dee. You make me laugh.'

I'm too busy unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out of his waistband, to reply. He has a nice chest. Smooth. It looks like he works, rather than works out, his muscles seem long and strong through labour, not lifting weights, and I like that. He's propped himself up on one forearm, watching me looking at him, moving my hands, discovering his body. I pinch at his nipples, which makes him twitch, and sigh. I push him so he's lying down on his back and move over to kiss and lick at his skin, moving down to his belly, to the top of his jeans, which I decide it's time for him to take off. Although I realise he's slim enough that I can get my hand underneath the waistband and, as I touch him, he gasps loudly. I wonder if he gasps or howls when he comes, and that thought runs up and down my body like an electrical charge. He too, seems to be feeling more urgency, as he's unbuttoning his jeans, and we both sigh loudly when his cock is released, stiff. It's definitely bigger than anything I've experienced, but without thinking, I get on top of him, my legs either side of his hips, and savour the feeling of sitting myself down on his cock. Just feeling the length of it, the hardness of it, I start to feel lightheaded again, start moving my hips so that we are pushing and grinding together, hear myself humming out loud, his hands around my hips.

'You're still wearing your work skirt. Best get this off, before it gets messed up,' he murmurs and is trying to find where the zip is. I let him work the zip down and then I lift up my arms, showing him he can lift it up over my head. My blouse gets caught up in it, and we both smile at the resulting tangle.

'Leave your arms up like that,' he says, and I do as he says, feeling his hands stroking me from my hips up to my breasts and back down again.

I'm still pushing myself along his cock, my knickers are so wet, and I feel two of his fingers pressing and slipping inside them, finding my clit, touching it lightly, then pressing and circling, and then maddening me by releasing all touch, so that I squirm to find his fingers again. I drop my arms, knocking his other hand from my breast, and reach to touch his lips.

'We, uh, we'd better put one of these on if we're going much further,' and he holds up the box of condoms.

He's right, I realise. My knickers are pushed all over to one side now, we are skin to skin, pushing up against each other. It feels too good to stop and I move my hips again. He groans at that, and is pushing me off of him and onto the blankets. I watch as he sits up to unlace his boots, take them off one by one, and his socks, tucking them into the tops of the boots, and then shuffle his jeans and boxers down those nice long legs. All of that he manages to make look pretty graceful. His body has a fluidity to it that I've never really seen before. He lays the clothes at the edge of the blanket, picks up my skirt and does the same, and I begin to think that I really like the care this man takes. He's unwrapping the box now, pulling out one of the foil packs. I sit up to watch more closely.

'Can I do that?' I ask.

'Yes,' he looks up.

'Help me,' I say, and he does, showing me how to nip the end before rolling it downwards. This is the first time I've really looked at him so closely and I feel excited and nervous at the same time. I start to shiver. I don't know if I can get that all inside me.

'Here,' he's pulling the quilt around us, lying me down next to him and wrapping me up tight. We warm up quickly. He slips his hands back down to my knickers, starts pulling them down, and I help him out, lifting my hips up. He's kneeling between my legs now, holding my raised knees.

'I, uh, I'm used to needing to take time. Just say if you're hurting. I want to be gentle.'

I raise my hips to him and shut my eyes to feel him nudging and pressing up against me until he finds the right position, and starts to come inside. It is a tight fit, and I open my eyes with the shock. He stops. Licks two of his fingers and gently rubs at my clit, making me hum. I feel him pushing again and I can let him in a little deeper, as he carries on rubbing me with one hand, stroking my belly with the other.

'More, some more,' I manage to say, and with a grunt he pushes all the way in. My eyes fly open again - a little bit of pain, yes, but something else. I feel full, so very full.

As I start to move my hips up and down, he moves forwards, over me, our bodies touching, then locking together, his hair all over me, brushing my skin. I feel him losing himself as we rock and grind into each other. I hold on to his ass, pushing him deeper into me, feel his whole body go rigid and meet each of his final thrusts with my body as he comes.

And, Reader, he gasps when he comes. Real loud.

As his breathing slows down, I hold him, kissing his neck, pushing his hair out of the way. I sense that he's regaining himself and he raises his head to look at me.

'Sorry. That was quicker than I'd have liked. But you were tight, and then I couldn't stop. Did I hurt you?'

'Hurt me? No!' I laugh, and it vibrates. I don't think I've ever laughed with someone inside of me like this, and it's a new feeling. 'It was a little tight at first, but - I - it was good.'

'Good?', his green eyes look a little mischievous now as he shifts his weight more to one side of me.

'I - I don't have words good enough to describe it.'

'That's fair. I guess I don't either. But this was more fun even than I'd thought.' He's brushing my breasts, and over my nipples and then down my belly, and then back up and around again. I can't imagine feeling better than this.

Eventually, he says; 'Your apartment. It have a shower?'

'Mmm,' I murmur.

'Good.' He pulls out, making me shudder, leans over and kisses me. 'The stuff they put on these doesn't make for a sweet taste.' He's taking the condom off.

I frown.

'Here', he explains, and then kisses me between my legs.

'Oh!'

But he's standing up, tying up the condom and starting to pick up his clothes.

'I mean, I guess, if it's ok with you, going to your place?' He stands still, and again I'm intrigued at how his body can be still but yet look so fluid.

'Yes. Yes, it'd be nice.'

He holds out his hands and helps me to my feet, hands my skirt to me, which I step into and fasten back around my waist. I pull my blouse closed again, do up the buttons, feeling my nipples still hard, up against the fabric. He's pulling his boxers and jeans back on in one go, socks then boots go back on, but he's carrying his shirt in his hand as he walks back to the truck and slings it inside, comes back for the blankets. Have I ever been in lust like this before? He's grinning at me, slings his arm around my waist. 'You're checking me out, again,' he teases and I have to laugh with him, because he's so right. 'You looked at me like that in the parking lot, earlier.' We both laugh again at how long ago that seems. 'And I've had a hard-on all night thinking about you, no wonder I couldn't last long,' he laments, pushing me up into the truck and following me onto the bench seat.

Like before, he drives with his arm resting along the seat back, touching my shoulders, but this time he's bare chested, his shirt on his lap. I breathe in the scent of his sweat, savour the feel of his arm over me, and lean in to be closer to him. He pulls me in to his side, and we drive down to the paved road, bumping and sliding together, turning north when I give him my address.

I'm fumbling with keys again, this time trying to get into my own apartment. I finally manage it, open the door, not sure how messy it is inside. I'd been running late all day, picking up a package from the post office that took forever, scooting around the grocery store because the refrigerator was totally empty, and then fitting in a quick swim before work. As I feared, there were bags and clothes strewn pretty much everywhere. I start picking up, and stop, realising he hasn't followed me inside. Indeed, he's standing there still on the threshold, holding his shirt and my purse in his hand.

'What? Come in,' I say, beckoning him inside.

'How long have you been living here?'

'Six months,' I say. 'Are you going to come in?'

He's still standing there.

'I'm sorry it's so messy,' and I turn back to look at the room through his eyes. Windows on two sides, a dreamcatcher hanging on one of them, a tiny kitchenette, an old couch, a bed over in the corner. I hear him step over the threshold, close the door softly behind him. Feel him come stand behind me, feel his warmth close to me, shiver when he parts my hair at the back and kisses my neck. I stretch my spine, breathe in his smell, hum quietly. Feel his hands moving up my skirt and onto my bare ass.

'I don't care about the mess, Dee. Let's get in the shower.'

My shower is tiny, so he mostly had to prop himself up against the sink while I took a shower, and then I did the same to watch him wash. But he did help with the soap, and I returned the favour. I'd put my hair in a ponytail to stop it getting wet through again. I tied his hair back, too, so it didn't get too wet, although I don't know why I bothered as he was too tall to stand upright under the showerhead anyway, and it made me laugh the way he had to hold his head to one side like that.

'Oh, this makes you laugh, does it?' he'd asked, flicking water at me. And when I couldn't stop laughing he'd gotten out of the shower, totally wet, and covered me with his body, making me all wet again.

"Hey, Green Eyes, stop that!' I'd begged as he held onto me. 'Ok, shower's over,' I reach out to turn off the water. 'Do you want a towel, or are you just using me?' I can feel him rising against me, and can't believe how good it makes me feel that he's this turned on by me. He kisses me. And some more. And then he turns me around so we're both facing the big mirror on the wall.

'I don't think you know just how pretty you are,' he says, holding my chin up, forcing me to look at our reflections, at my reflection. His hands move along my shoulders, down my arms, back up to my breasts, where they rest, pulls on my nipples, which makes me gasp and look down. One hand comes back up to tip my chin.

'Look at yourself, Dee. I think you need to learn to love yourself.' His eyes are mesmerising. He squeezes my nipple again, and my eyes flick down involuntarily, and then I correct myself, look back up into the mirror, at myself, at him. He's a bit more than a head taller than me. In fact, I feel small next to him.

'You have a beautiful body. See this face?' He strokes my cheek. 'Beautiful. And this neck?' He kisses it, pushing my ponytail out of the way. 'Beautiful. And this spot here?' Stroking behind my ear. 'When I saw this bit here, tonight, I couldn't take my eyes off it. And here?' I flash back to that moment when he'd first spoken to me, head bent into my neck, his breath on my ear. Both hands flat on my rib cage, touching the underside of my breasts. 'And here,' moving down my stomach. I swallow and despite my best efforts, a tear slides down my face.

'No. Stop.' I say, miserable.

'I'm not gonna.' He kisses my neck, holding on to my waist, enveloping me, rocking us both together. A couple more tears fall from my eyes, but he isn't letting go.

'You're the beautiful one,' I finally manage to say.

'Imagine the kids,' he grins and my mouth drops open. I have to put my hands out to steady myself and plant them on the mirror. He is laughing at my reaction, and then circling around my nipple again, and I can feel him really hardening up against the small of my back. I moan, not meaning to, but I feel so alive I don't know how to stop it.

'Dee ...,' he stops. 'What's your last name?'

'Hernandez,' I whisper, feeling his thigh slipping in-between my legs, lifting up to touch me there.

'Dee Hernandez?'

'Mexican. Dad was Mexican.' I'm concentrating on the feel of his thigh rubbing me up and down.

'Dee Hernandez, look at how beautiful you are, will you?

I look up at the mirror, and another moan escapes. He looks even better with his hair tied back like that. I watch as he reaches one hand around my front and down between my legs and find it difficult to stop moaning now, between the pressure of his leg and his fingers on me, I am unable to think or feel anything else.

He releases me, takes my hand, and we walk back into my room, over to the bed. He sits me on the edge, gently runs his hands from the top of my head down to my hips where they grab my ass and pull me closer to him as he kneels on the floor in front of me. He kisses my knees, works his way along the top of my thigh until I start to open my legs out, and he's kissing the insides of my thighs, all the way up. I don't know if I can bear the anticipation much longer. I reach over to release his hair from my hairband, take a handful of it in both hands and pull. He grunts, I keep pulling, and finally I can feel his tongue on me, tapping and licking at me, working his way inside me, and I know I can't take much more. When it comes, it's like my brain floods and my body is on fire, all at the same time. I know I'm crying out, but I can't hear it. He has to hold me down at the hips to keep me from slipping right off the bed, but he doesn't stop, and I can't stop, and I feel like I'm taking off and flying round the room.

'Stop, please stop,' I'm panting and can hardly get the words out. 'Please.' I remember then that I still have fistfuls of his hair in my hands, so I use that to pull him away. I am shaking all over. He kisses me, his tongue impatient, deep.

'Is that me?' I ask, brushing his mouth with mine.

His eyes come back into focus, and look into mine.

'Yes. That's you.' He strokes a finger along my lips, making my hips jerk again, then brings it up to my mouth and drags across it. 'Taste yourself. You are sweet, see?' and he presses the finger into my mouth. I lick it, suck the tip. He closes his eyes. His eyelids are almost violet against the long black eyelashes, and I touch him there, kiss his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, his neck.

He gets up off the floor, pushes me further on the bed and then turns around, looking around the room.

'I put them in my purse,' I say, and he's digging around inside it, and I'm wondering what he'll think of the disgraceful jumble of half-eaten energy bars, receipts, cheap paperbacks and pens that's jammed in there. I see he's found the box, puts one of the foil wrappers in-between his teeth, prowls on all fours back up the bed towards me. That fluidity again. It's hypnotic.

'You're ok?' I think that's what he's said, teeth still clamped down on the wrapper.

'Yes. More than ok.' I gesture to the edge of the bed where I'd just been sitting. 'I guess now I understand what all the fuss is about.'

He sits back on his heels.

I shrug. 'I thought there was something wrong with me.'

'You hadn't ever -?'

I shake my head. 'No. I know that now.'

'That makes me feel better than I deserve,' he says.

I push his shoulders, manoeuvring him so he's sitting, with his back up against the cheap headboard of the bed. I roll the condom onto his cock, stroking him at the same time, and he sighs and leans his head back. But then pulls my head towards him to kiss me. I sit astride him, shuffling to get as close to him as I can while we kiss. My nipples feel like they are burning when they touch his skin, and I circle around and squeeze his nipples with my fingers, which causes his cock to jerk and twitch between my legs and we both jump, have to break apart to breathe and laugh at our reflexes. I take him in my hand to guide him into me, but his hand stops me.