Frank & John, Not Lovers Ch. 02

Still desperate to seem cool in front of Frank, he tried to mimic her neutral tone, asking a question that had occurred to him. "While you were doing it with her would you like, get yourself off ... during? You know?"

"Dude, you mean you don't know how a girl gets herself off?"

"No no," John said, his face flushing again, "I meant, like, how would you get yourself off during, you know, doing it, if you were only ever on the, uh, giving end?"

"Oh!" Frank's face lit up with sudden understanding. "You mean how did I have an orgasm while using that strap on? That's actually a really good question! The one Phoebe looked like a regular penis mostly. But on the other end it, it's kind of hard to describe, but it had this kind of nub thing that pokes through the holder thingy and up against your clit. If you want, I could find a picture on the Internet and show you."

"Fuck yes!" John thought to himself.

"Sure, how about later," John said out loud, realizing he would end up spraying semen all over the table, even without physical stimulation, if she were to show him an even mildly sexual picture at that moment.

"OK, cool. So anyways, when I fucked Phoebe, which was only a couple of times, I sometimes had an orgasm just from that thing rubbing me, you know? But it didn't work every time. I couldn't really tell you why. It's like it depended on whether the stars were aligned? Tongues are a lot more reliable. At least on me."

"Ah," John managed to croak out. Somehow his dick had engorged further during this latest revelation from Frank. John scooted his chair forward to make sure the tent in his pants didn't extend above the glass tabletop. The feet of the metal chair scraped loudly as they scraped across the tile patio.

Frank did not seem to notice, though, and continued with her story. "So with Phoebe, what I wanted was to fuck her until she came, then if I hadn't come myself, have her go down on me."

John felt his dick now poking out through the band of his shorts, and was grateful he'd had the foresight to scoot forward.

"At first she was cool with that, but I could tell she was hoping I'd change my mind. Which I didn't. Eventually she blew up at me and said it was unfair that she never got to be 'in charge'. Her words. Also she wanted me to take my top off so she could, you know, feel around up there, and I wasn't comfortable with that either."

John marveled at the idea that Frank had had all this intense sex without ever taking off her sports bra or even letting her girlfriend touch her breasts. In fact, this ridiculous-sounding detail sent him over the edge. He could feel pre-cum leak out from the tip of his dick. He wanted to look down to see how big of a stain there was, but they had locked eyes during this exchange and breaking that contact would have been way too obvious.

"So you two broke up over that?"

"Yeah. It was just last week actually," Frank said glumly. "She just got angrier and angrier. I did try to do all the things I was comfortable with as much as she wanted. Like I gave this epic 'blow job' the last time we were together. I sucked on her strap on for as long as she wanted as if it were her actual dick, and I got to where I could get it all the way down my throat. She was pretty into that. But then some things happened. Fuck. The fight was awful. Anyway, I still miss her. A lot."

Before John could come up with an appropriately supportive thing to say, Frank added, "And I'm horny AF." Frank actually said the letters "A" and "F".

At that, John felt like he was losing control over his body, and, desperate to give himself some breathing room, asked Frank to grab two more beers. Frank turned and walked towards the kitchen. The humid outdoor air had made her sweat. Her basketball shorts clung wetly to her ass. He could see no sign of underwear. He knew from the past that Frank wore boxer shorts, which would have certainly been visible under the now moist fabric of the shorts. "Maybe her shorts are lined?" John thought to himself.

Frank returned with two more cans of beer. She leaned across the table to hand him his, in so doing giving him an accidental view down her t-shirt. He got a good view of her sports bra. It was larger than he had realized, and also looked extremely tight and uncomfortable. He could see its edges cutting into her flesh. Even with so much pressure on them, her breasts extended several inches out from her body. John wondered if he had been underestimating their true size. "Could she need a J-cup now? Depending on whether it was a normal bra or not," he thought, considering various sizing charts he had studied on the Internet. In any case, John was now certain that was why she had quit the basketball team.

"So, tell me about your dating life," Frank said. John had been dreading this moment. He was embarrassed about how little he was going to be able to talk about, compared to his cousin. At the same time, in the back of his mind, he acknowledged that it would be good to talk to someone sympathetic about his troubles.

"Well, that's the thing. There's really not much to tell, I'm afraid," John said. It was mostly true.

Frank looked unsatisfied. "So, have you gone out with anyone?"

"Almost. But not quite." John looked like he wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground.

Frank persisted, "So, like, have you gotten to first base even?"

"No," John said, eyes glued to the floor.

Frank's eyes went wide, "OK, that's not good. Details?"

John went on to outline his one and only experience with almost getting a date.

"So of course I was at a new high school and didn't know anyone. But I joined this study group for math class. I was kinda ahead of the rest of the class, so in the group I really mostly just helped everyone else." At this, Frank rolled her eyes. John continued, "I was kinda like an impromptu TA. Anyway, I just started crushing hard on this one girl in the group, Jennie. She was like amazingly hot. So hot that even trying to talk to her about math was hard, I'd end up sounding like I didn't even know English. But I finally managed to get up the nerve to ask her to go out to see a movie."

Frank made an impatient gesture.

"I was so nervous I could barely form intelligible words," said John. "At first I think she didn't even realize I was asking her on a date at all. I had to like repeat myself because the first time around it came out like, 'Shrm um do I agga wanna gway wimmy?'"

Frank looked sympathetic. "But you did ask her out right?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, the second time she did realize that I was asking her out on a date and she said she'd 'think about it'."

"So then she said 'no' later?"

"I wish... Quite the opposite, really," John said. "She just ghosted me."

Jennie stopped attending their study group. After two days without contact, John sent her a single text message (casually, he thought) asking if she had made a decision about going to the movie. She did not respond. When it was clear no reply was forthcoming, John felt embarrassed. Was that solitary text one text too many?

His embarrassment was not over yet. A few days later, one of Jennie's girlfriends, Shawna, approached him in the hallway at school. Initially he was excited, hoping that Jennie had decided to see the movie and that Shawna was acting as a go-between. Instead, she asked him to stop texting Jennie. Her tone gave him the sense that even his one text had been inappropriate in some way. Shawna also relayed that Jennie had only agreed to think about going out with him in the first place because he was smart. She had needed time to ponder whether she could do "mind over matter" (Jennie relayed these words specifically). When John asked Shawna to clarify what this meant, Shawna said flatly, "Honestly? She thinks you're just, well, not that attractive. If you want my personal opinion, she is way out of your league. Maybe set your sights a little lower next time?"

The point about him being unattractive, he hoped, was just Shawna being mean, rather than something Jennie had really said verbatim. But either way, he felt terrible and his already fragile confidence took a major blow. Several weeks later, he saw Jennie making out with a boy named Eriq during lunch. Eriq had been part of the same study group and had also stopped coming around the same time Jennie did. Eriq was on the varsity tennis team. Although by no means a star player, Eriq was athletic and handsome. Much to John's annoyance, since he just wanted to hate the guy, Eriq was also a likeable person. John had worked one-on-one with him on more than one occasion. Eriq had been struggling with his advanced algebra. He had seemed like a genuinely nice guy; friendly, polite and sincerely thankful for the help.

"My ego might as well have been dipped in concrete and tossed into Lake Michigan at that point," John concluded.

Frank looked sympathetic. "Well, don't worry about that dumb-ass bitch! If she could see you now she'd realize what a mistake she'd made."

John was still flummoxed by Frank's seeming confidence in his looks, saying, "Sure," in as sarcastic a voice as he could muster.

"Oh yeah," Frank added, as if she had just thought of one last question. "Was she really so hot? That Shawna chick seemed to think she was a supermodel or something."

"Well, I thought so ... she had a pretty face and just an amazing figure."

"Um, you really expect me to settle for 'pretty face amazing figure'?"

"OK, OK! She was, uh, very well endowed, you might say," John hedged.

"Now there's the shock of the century," Frank said. She was genuinely unsurprised by John's admission. Whenever John was around a woman with large breasts, his eyes would drift downwards, eventually locking into place as if glued by some invisible force. Since Frank's mom was herself a spectacularly heavy-breasted woman, Frank had had ample opportunity, over the years, to make note of John's interest.

Frank saw the look on John's face and decided to give him some relief from a conversation that he clearly found embarrassing. "OK, what else? What about college?"

"Nothing," John said, "that was pretty much it."

Frank's jaw dropped. "Nothing? At all?"

"Nope."

"So," Frank concluded, as if it had just now dawned on her, "you're still a virgin?"

"Yes, and thanks for making me go into excruciating detail about it," John said. The only positive he could take from the situation was that this depressing conversation had deflated his penis, entirely, and he would be able to stand up without embarrassment. His only lingering concern was that the pre-cum that had leaked out of his dick might be visible.

Frank ignored his sarcastic tone. She put her hand on her hips, and, adopting a schoolteacher-like tone, said, "Well we'll have to do something about that, now won't we?" Her wide mouth grinned from ear to ear.