Justine shuddered in orgasm as hot waves of pleasure washed over her body. His face flashed before her and she moaned his name repeatedly as her drenched fingers made their way up to her breasts and smeared the hard nipples with her essence. The clenching sensations deep inside her pussy slowed and dwindled to an ebbing throb. They seemed to merge with her heartbeat and she let out a shuddering sigh of deep relaxation as her breathing returned to normal. She kept her eyes tightly shut until the last image of him faded into the dark recesses of her mind. She loved the languid aftermath of orgasm, but felt again the aching emptiness of self gratification. If only she could cuddle into the warmth of a lover’s body - his body, her pleasure would be complete.
The house was oddly quiet. Her mother and younger brother were away for the weekend and all she had to look forward to was her books and her own company. Justine smiled cynically at the thought of her predicament. It wasn’t that she was unattractive; she knew that her shoulder length chestnut curls, hazel eyes and tight butt attracted a lot of attention from boys. But that was the problem. They were boys. Sure, some were cute to flirt with but they just didn’t do anything for her. Having gown up with three brothers meant Justine was used to having their friends around the house but they never held her interest for too long. Their limited conversations and incessantly roaming hands bored and irritated her, and while she had learned much about the male anatomy, she was approaching her twentieth birthday with her virginity intact and a reputation for being an uptight snob.
‘Not any more!” she said aloud as she stepped into the shower. She planned to change all that this weekend.
Justine ran a hand through her tousled curls and stepped out onto the porch. She spotted him across the street crouched down, working on his motorbike in the driveway, like he did most Saturday afternoons. Even though it was cool out, he was clad in a thin blue tee shirt that hugged his chest. It was tucked into well worn jeans and his black boots gleamed as if he’d just polished them. She watched mesmerized as his muscles bunched and relaxed as he moved, like some predacious animal. Her eyes raked over the hard thigh muscles that rippled beneath the taut blue denim and she marveled at his enigmatic transformation from career man during the week to bad boy on the weekend.
He lived alone and jogged three times a week. This she had learned by watching his house from her bedroom window. After returning from his runs, bathed in sweat with his thick dark hair matted and his clothes clinging wetly to his body he would disappear into his house only to emerge later freshly showered, and smartly dressed to go wherever it was that he went each day. She did not know what he did for a living and his age remained a mystery to her. Somewhere between thirty five and death, she guessed, but in excellent shape. At times like this, immersed in his bike he looked irresistibly boyish and undeniably sexy.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped off the porch and walked towards him. The longer she stood watching him and thinking about it, the more her courage lessened. If she was going to do it, she had to do it now before she lost her nerve. So far so good, she thought as she crossed the street and continued towards his driveway. Her heart thudded and she fought back the urge to turn and run. “Easier fantasized than done,” she whispered to herself.
He glanced up, fixing his eyes on her for a moment and then returned to working on the bike.
“Hey Justine, you’re home early from the library today.”
She felt a small thrill run through her. He always called her ‘Justine’ and not Tina as everyone else did. She liked that. Justine sounded so much more mature and sophisticated. But very importantly he knew her schedule. Had he been watching her? She had never dreamed that he had ever given her much more than an idle thought. Oh For God’s sake grow up girl, she chided herself; he’d lived in the house across the street from her for close on a year and had helped her brothers out with their bikes a couple of times. He was bound to know the general comings and goings of the family.
”Actually, I’m not working today.”
He grunted in response.
“And Mom and Pete have gone away for the weekend as well.”
“I saw them leave earlier. Why didn’t you go with?”
She smiled sultrily and tried desperately to sound sexy. “Well you know, a girl’s gotta have some time for herself. Besides, I have big plans for tonight.”
“Oh yeah,” he replied, “Plans for what?”
“Well, I was wondering if I could speak to you about that. You know, sort of get some uh advice.”
He glanced at her, but only for a moment. “What’s up Justine?”
It was now or never and there was no easy way to do it. She took a deep breath and forced her voice to press the words out.
“Firstly I need to tell you that I am a virgin.”
Brendan stopped working. He didn’t look at her but she saw his hand halt and then clench around the wrench he was holding. The sinews stood out on his arms and his broad shoulders tensed. After a moment he continued tightening whatever it was that he was working on.
Shit that wasn’t the response she had expected.
“And?” she repeated in confusion. Her face flushed with embarrassment.
“After a profound statement like that, I am assuming there is an ‘and’ that’s attached,” he said casually reaching into his toolbox.
“Well yes,” Just say it for God’s sake, she urged herself. Say it!
“I um uh, well I want to have my first time with an older man, somebody like you. Perhaps even you...” The words rushed out in a torrent and she felt dizzy from nervousness.
“Forget it girl.”
Forget it? Just like that! Talk about a put down, she thought. He took the fucking cake. That was a total knock down! His quick answer and casual attitude angered her. He didn’t even have the common decency to look up at her and appear honored or even shocked. Perhaps women asked him to deflower them regularly. God, what a horrible word that ‘deflower’ was, and maybe it was just a drag to do it. Or perhaps her ‘snob’ reputation had spread and the idea was so repulsive that he didn’t have to consider it for more than half a second.
Tears stung her eyes but she refused to cry. He wasn’t worth it, certainly not on an emotional level. It was just his body that she wanted and his skill. Was that too much to ask? Men, as far as she knew, were always willing to get a little action, and she was offering it with no strings attached. Perhaps he needed a little incentive just to prove she wasn’t teasing and meant it. What could she lose by making the suggestion? He had already declined and if he refused again, well it didn’t really matter; she would never be able to face him for the rest of her life anyway.
“Ok, I’ll pay you.”
The wrench clattered to the ground and he rose to his feet swiftly. His hard body towered above her and his eyes blazed.
“What did you say?” His voice was menacingly soft.
"I’ll pay you for one night of your time.”
He threw back his head and laughed cynically then fixed his eyes on her. “Let me understand this. You want to pay me to fuck you."
“Stop it Brendan!” Her cheeks flamed. “Please don’t put it that way; I’m inviting you to be my first..."
“Put it any way you like Princess, that’s what you are saying.” His eyes slid down from her face to her breasts and then back up again. “Believe me; you don’t want someone like me between your legs, especially not for the first time. Go find yourself a nice safe boy at the library.”
“I am not a princess dammit!” Anger welled up inside her and she almost stamped her foot in frustration. “And I don’t want nice and safe. I want wild and passionate!” She lowered her gaze and her voice, realizing suddenly how loud it sounded. ”Sorry, but that’s the truth of it.”
An elderly couple strolled by and stared at them as they passed. Oh shit, that’s all she needed, neighbors to hear her pathetic attempts to get laid.
“Let’s take this conversation inside,” Brendan hissed.
He practically dragged her through the garage and into his house, slamming the door behind them. He released her arm and ran his hand through his hair. A mixture of fury and lust burned in his eyes.
“Christ Justine you can’t go around asking men to have sex with you. Surely you are not that fucking naïve.”
“I haven’t been asking men,” she retorted hotly. "Just you.”
“Well I should put you over my knee and spank your ass hard, girl.”
She shot him a sassy smile. “Ok if that turns you on. I’ve heard it's hot and nasty.”
His jaw clenched tightly and he expelled a burning rush of air from his chest. She was incorrigible. “Why the hell come to me?” He demanded.
She glared at him. He really was put off by the idea.
“Just forget it,” she said using his words. They were, after all brutal and to the point. “Forget I even said anything and made a complete asshole of myself.” She turned to leave but he touched the bare flesh of her arm to stop her and she stifled a groan at the warmth that came from the contact of his skin.
“Wait,” he said, his voice softening. “Look at me Justine.”
Brendan tried to compose himself. His head was in turmoil, his heart was beating hard and to his dismay his jeans were feeling uncomfortably tight. Despite being dismissive with her he had felt himself growing hard at the words that had spilled from her lips about her virginity. It was the last thing he’d expected from her, and the most erotic thing he had heard in a long time. Her confession had more than surprised him.
He couldn’t recall ever seeing her with a guy but had never given it much thought. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but she was vivacious with a tight athletic body and the most gorgeous pouty mouth. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and a suppressed sexiness that he wouldn’t mind seeing unleashed except that he couldn’t go there. He was probably twenty years her senior and hadn’t made love to a woman in years. Sure, he’d fucked a couple of them since the accident, merely to get the release that he needed when he didn’t feel like jerking off. But that was all it was; straight-forward, simple and emotionless fucking.
“What Brendan?” Her voice jarred his thoughts.
“Why do you want to do this?”
“Why do I want to have sex?”
He smiled indulgently. “Why do you want to have sex with me?”
She shrugged. “You’re really hot and I figured you’re probably good at it. I see women over here often.”
Christ, his sisters, that’s who she had seen, but he thought better of telling her. He had four of them and they fawned over him whenever they could. It had been like that since Ingrid and the boys… He pushed the thought and images from his mind. Anyway, he never brought women home. This was his sanctuary where he could be alone. If he needed to fuck he would go to their place or to a hotel. That way when he was finished and ready to go, he could leave. No questions, no excuses, no commitments.
Justine continued, as if reading his mind. “And I know you wouldn’t want anything more from me, so we could do it this once and things would stay uncomplicated. No strings attached, as they say.”
Jesus, she was too smart for her own good. She’d automatically assumed that from him. Had he really become so cold and self-centered that it showed that plainly? The thought suddenly nagged at him and another disturbing one popped into his head.
“I’m curious. If I say no, do you have a second candidate in mind?” His voice was husky.
She looked at him and fought off the urge to trace the thin scar that ran along his cheek with her fingertips. His eyes had become dark and brooding like burning coals and it seemed to make him even more appealing.
“Well yes I do have another candidate. And you did say no.”
She was right, but even though he had told her to find another man, his chest tightened at her answer. No telling what kind of an asshole she had picked out, since she seemed determined to find someone unconventional, perhaps even a little dangerous and risky, instead of the boy-next-door-type of guy.
“Who?” He barked.
“What do you care?” she said crossly.
“Justine don’t jerk me around. Tell me who it is.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Rob Mortley from down the street.
“Rob Mortley?” Brendan shook her by the shoulder. “You are looking for shit there. He’s married.”
She smiled. Brendan was concerned, or was it a little touch of jealousy?
“A month or so ago. He flirted with me at the store last week. Told me he was a free man and everything was finalized. Then he asked me to come over for dinner and videos some time. I think I may just take him up on the offer. See if he is doing anything tonight.”
Brendan grimaced. Rob was a lecherous bastard who would fuck anything that moved. His wife must have finally caught on. He was not surprised that he had tried to hit on her. He could just imagine the type of videos Rob would have available for their date. Fucking perverted creep, preying on young girls. Jesus, she deserved better than that.
“Don’t ask him Justine. I’m telling you, you’ll be sorry.”
He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “You want something to drink? Beer a soda?" He ripped the tab off a can and drank thirstily. “Hell, are you even old enough to drink?"
“I’m almost twenty, but virginity has a way of making one look younger and more innocent,” she pouted. “And no I don’t want anything to drink, so don’t change the subject.”
He took a long pull from the can and fixed his eyes on her, appraising her openly. A hopeful gleam lit up her eyes.
“If you don’t want me to ask Rob, does that mean you’ll do it?” She flashed him a sultry smile and licked her lips sexily.
Christ, for a virgin, she knew all the moves. He felt a pull in his groin at the thought of those luscious innocent lips and tongue exploring his body.
“What I am going to do is take a shower,” he said abruptly turning and walking in the direction of the bathroom.
Justine watched him leave. Her heart raced. He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t said no either. She glanced around the room for the first time since entering the house. It was neat, functional, masculine and devoid completely of any feminine touch. A bookcase crammed with books dominated the one wall and on one of the shelves two framed photographs caught her eye. In one, Brendan had his arm around an attractive dark haired woman. She smiled happily at Justine and in the other, the woman sat flanked by two young boys. It was a professionally taken studio photograph, perfectly clear and the youngest boy bore a striking resemblance to Brendan.
He had a wife and kids.
“You okay out there?” His voice rang out.
“Yeah fine thanks. I see you and Rob have something in common after all. Both divorced.”
“I’m not divorced, Justine.”
“So is this your family, your wife and kids?” She paused waiting for his response. None came and she continued; “The youngest looks just like you.”
The bathroom door slammed and a slight uneasiness crept over her. Was he married, separated? She had to know.
Walking in the direction of the closed bathroom door she called out, “Brendan, don’t tell me that you are still married.” The sound of water bucketing out of the shower filled her ears.
“Brendan! Did you hear me?”
The loud noise that followed startled her. It was a crashing sound, like a fist slamming against a door.
“Christ, don’t you know when to shut the fuck up!” The anger in his voice was palpable. She froze for a moment as she tried to digest it, then she turned on her heel and fled, slamming the front door loudly behind her.
The hot stinging spray of the water pelted down on Brendan as he sponged himself with hard swift movements. His eyes blurred and merged with the water streaming over his face. What the fuck was he doing allowing someone into his space? He knew better than that. She had left; he’d heard the front door slam. Good! Fuckit! He didn’t need questions, complications, and this kind of crap in his life.
Dusk had fallen and Justine paced the house restlessly. A storm was brewing and she watched the wind tearing at the limbs of the old willow tree in the garden. It had been hours since she had stormed out of Brendan’s house but the angry tone of his words still resonated in her head and she felt incredibly humiliated. Shame washed over her as she contemplated the wicked fantasies she had entertained, how she had masturbated to thoughts of him and finally how she had literally thrown herself at him. God, she hated him, fucking despised him. She hated herself and she hated her fucking virgin body for lusting after him. A loud knock on the door brought her out of her angered trance. She yanked it open to find him on her doorstep.
“I’m sorry Justine.”
She took in the firm set of his jaw and his dark eyes. In the muted light of the porch, they looked gentler than she remembered. The wind carried a faint whiff of soap and subtle cologne teasingly to her nose. She swallowed hard determined to keep to her resolve. She hated this man.
“Go away; I don’t want to talk to you.”
His arm blocked her from shutting the door. “I accept that, but I owe you an apology. I don’t want you thinking this is your fault, it’s not. It’s mine,” he said bitterly. She glared at him as he continued, “I wasn’t prepared to answer questions.”
“They’re dead. Killed in a motor accident.”
“Oh my God, I am so sorry.”
“Happened three years ago,” he said abruptly, “its over. I don’t talk about it much, don’t like to.” He looked a little awkward. She had never seen him like this. “I just wanted you to know, I lost it today. I was out of line and it wasn’t your fault.” He turned to walk away and she instinctively grabbed him.
“No! Please don’t go, please stay we can just talk.”
He caught her body to his and she wrapped her arms around him pressing her breasts into his chest. She reached up and pulled his mouth down to hers. The touch of his cool lips brushing against hers caused a bolt of excitement to rush through her. His kiss was soft, gentle and then became more urgent as she opened her mouth to accept his tongue. Even though this wasn’t her first kiss, she almost felt as if it was. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt and she kissed him back fervently.
“Oh God,” he groaned pulling away, “Justine, Justine what am I going to do with you?”
She smiled into his chest. “You know what I want.”
“I know I can’t offer you anything. And your first time should be special, at least with someone who you care for. It’s a very big deal for you and I don’t know if I want that emotional burden.”
“I do care for you Brendan, “she said softly, “but I promise no emotional burden. I want one night, my first night with you, and after that, well we can just stay friends.”
It was absurd. There was a purity about her that he couldn’t quite fathom. It was genuine not contrived at all, and yet somehow she displayed a maturity, an older inner sense that belied that innocence. He was the mature, more experienced person, yet he felt awkward, unsure, while she seemed confident about what she wanted.
Her smooth hand felt small in his as she led him into the house and to her bedroom. It was a soft feminine room, all satin and lace in fresh blues and white. The light scent of her fragrance hung in the air and he smiled at the teddy bear with the threadbare ears who shared the chair at the window with a fluffy blue elephant wearing a tag that pronounced his name to be Winston.
“Are you sure you want to do this Justine?”
The smile that crossed his face warmed her trembling limbs. She nodded, not trusting her voice. Of course she wanted it. She wanted him more than anyone but now she did feel nervous and oddly out of place. She hadn’t realized how unstable she’d actually feel when finally faced with having sex for the first time, and of course doing it this way would kill the spontaneity and probably a lot of the passion, but still...