Knee Socks Ch. 02

"Well...yeah, I mean-"

"And I was teasing you about it all the time. Such an asshole I was. I was secretly hoping that it was the case though. So vain." And I've been touching myself thinking of you. I imagine my fingers to be yours. I imagine other boys to be you. I never told you this before because I was afraid. I still am, but just a bit less so now that you're here. And I'm sorry I was being so rude to you just because I thought I could.

"I've always wanted you," Andrew suddenly turns his body around to face her, his eyes boring into hers. He is so close to her that she can smell his unique scent again, warm, safe and familiar, "I love you because you're my family. And I want you so much all the time. Back there in the closet, it's the best feeling I've had in my life. Just touching you, pleasuring you. I don't know, this is so much. This is crazy. I don't know if I can handle it. You're supposed to be normal, like, hanging out more with girls or bringing a girlfriend home or that kind of things. I don't know if it's just society's expectations or what I really want. I don't know anymore. I only know I want you."

Sarah stares up at him, taken aback. She would never have expected such a long, candid confession from Andrew. His breath is fast and shallow, his eyes, big and limpid, glistening in the dim light and gazing deeply into hers. She doesn't know since when his hand has been holding hers, their fingers entwined. Closing her eyes slowly, she leans in, uncaring that acquaintances from school could be passing by. Uncaring of anything.

The kiss feels unreal. His lips are warm and tender, kissing her gently and gingerly, as if afraid of startling her, scaring her away, so far away that he'd lose her forever. She wants to tell him not to worry. She isn't going anywhere. She is staying with him, wherever that is. Fuck the world. It's them against it.

"I love you," she murmurs as they break the kiss.

"I-I love you too," as if nonplussed by her kiss, he turns his eyes away again timidly.

"And I love it more when you make me come."

Laughing out loud at his burning face, Sarah gives a peck on his cheek.

"Where did you..."

"What?"

"All the stuff you said about hurting you..."

Sarah grins, "I think you enjoyed it very much, didn't you?"

Andrew tries to turn his head away, but Sarah cups his cheeks into her hands and forces him to face her, "tell me the truth, Andrew Larrison."

"Alright," he murmurs, "I liked it."

"You don't mind learning more?"

"I can try."

"Very good," Sarah smiles. They're going to have a lot of fun, "I'll pass you some links. Watch and learn."

Andrew doesn't answer for a while.

"Is it normal that I feel jealous?"

"Of whom?"

"Of the boys who taught you all this stuff."

"They're just friends," Sarah shrugs, "you don't have to be in a relationship to fuck, you know."

"Right," Andrew lowers his head, "so..."

"I don't know, Andrew." Sarah muses, "I've never wanted a boyfriend. I just wanted sex. A boyfriend would be too much of a distraction now that I've got so much on my plate. University application's deadline is close and I want to concentrate on it. It..." she pauses, "it feels good, safe, to be around you. You know?"

Andrew gives her hand a gentle squeeze. "I know," he says quietly.

The bus approaches and they both look up like deer caught in the headlights, as if shocked to find that a real world exists outside of their own secret one. As Andrew lets go of her hand and starts to grope for his monthly pass in his pocket, Sarah's heart sinks just a tiny little bit. Climbing onto the bus after him and sitting down beside him at the empty rear of the bus, she leans in, taking hold of his hand again. He doesn't let go this time. Wordlessly, he bends down, presses another kiss onto her hair and straightens up, as the bus pulls away from the stop, lumbering into the deepening night.

*

'Have u seen this???'

Having finished the night's homework assignments in her room, Sarah grabs up her phone from her desk as it buzzes, reading the message from her friend Melissa, smiling. Melissa has sent her a snapshot of the new member of the school's indoor track and field team, Percival Morse, taken during the latest training session at the local university's training center. Dark-haired and olive-skinned with mesmerizing emerald eyes, he was doing a final round of warm-up on the photo, his chiseled face serious, his arms stretched out and feet planted squarely apart, the wiry muscles on his limbs cast into sharp relief by the spotlight. Who on earth would name their kid Percival Morse, especially a smoking hot one?

'Did u get a chance to slap his ass, Saz. Don't lie.'

'Nah, too busy getting busted by the coach. Couldn't get up the next morning. Competition's coming up soon.'

'Who cares. Suck his dick in the changing room next time plz.'

'Got one on my plate.'

'Gabriel? Kinky whore.'

Sarah smiles, typing out her reply slowly this time, curling up in her chair and resting her chin on her knees.

'Nope.'

'WHO IS IT'

'Not gonna tell ya'

'Saz, ur making a big mistake by not telling me. I'm gonna FIND OUT'

'Good luck with that. Gotta go.'

Sarah glances at the time on the screen. Half-past eight, perfect. She's still got some exercises to do for the upcoming math competition, but has decided to make the most of Mom and Dad's weekly date night, on which they usually return at some point around midnight. A firm believer that time management is an essential skill for success, an idea instilled in her by her mother, Sarah is used to having everything planned out beforehand. Clicking open the chat with Andrew, she chuckles at the last links she sent to him over the last few days.

'How to kiss a girl sexually'

'How to give head to her'

'How to finger your girl'

'Sex positions DEMONSTRATED'

'All you need to know about orgasm control'

'Bondage positions that put you in charge'

'Choking done right'

It makes her face burn just to imagine the expression on Andrew's face while he watches these videos. Even though he doesn't, she is going to make sure he learns all he needs to learn.

'Can I come to your room later?'

She types out the message to Andrew quickly, her heart racing. Having sent out the message, she opens and closes the apps on her phone absently, impatient for a reply.

'Sure.'

Sarah takes a deep breath. Getting up from her chair, keeping the lights in her room turned on just to keep her parents from getting suspicious in case they decide to come home early as she usually stays up late studying, Sarah grabs a clean set of school uniform with knee socks but without underwear and heads for the bathroom. She spends the next twenty minutes carefully scrubbing, washing and shaving herself, applying her coconut moisturizer onto her face before putting on her clothes, scrutinizing herself in the mirror, uncharacteristically self-conscious. With rosy cheeks and glistening blue eyes full of anticipation, she looks like a girl about to go on the first date ever in her life. So, this is what they call butterflies in the stomach, she thinks, blushing. Wiping her wet blond hair hastily with a dry towel and throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry basket beside the door of her room, she closes the door behind her and walks up to before Andrew's room across the hallway, knocking on the door gently. Her palms are sweating a bit.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

Poking her head into his room, she is surrounded by his familiar smell. Only his desk lamp is on. Andrew is sitting before his desk with his back to her, his shoulders hunched. He isn't turning around to meet her. Entering his room and locking the door behind her, she approaches him gingerly, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The room is clean and tidy, almost generic except for its dark blue walls, without garish posters of rock bands on the walls or dirty clothes strewn about typical of other teenage boys. She notices that the curtains have been drawn. A few albums of photography are arranged in alphabetic order on his shelves, followed by comics, fictions and books on journalism. Sarah suddenly realizes that she doesn't even know what electives Andrew is taking, or what he is interested in majoring in university.

"What are you doing?"

Sitting onto his desk and staring down at him, Sarah asks in a feigned casual tone. For a girl with some sexual experience, she feels as nervous as if she had never kissed a boy before.

"Just...some assignment for English. Had to finish this passage. It's done, I think." Andrew murmurs, a flush on his face, still not meeting her eyes. He is dressed in his navy-blue short-sleeve shirt and gray baggy trousers, his feet bare, having taken a shower and got changed upon returning from school. Tall and lean, his chestnut hair tousled, he looks unexpectedly handsome in the warm lamplight. His features certainly resemble those of their father when he was young. Sarah once got a peek at a family album at Christmas at their grandmother's in the countryside.

"What's it about?"

"Well, the usual you've done too, I'm sure. You have to pick a poem and do an analysis. A passage at least. I picked 'Wasteland'. 'I will show you fear in a handful of dust'. I think it's beautiful."

He finally raises his head and meets her eyes. Your eyes are more beautiful than the poem, she wants to tell him. Honey, amber, caramel, chestnut, hazel, walnut, depending on the light and his mood and the angle from which he peeks at her. She never understood why people say brown eyes are boring.

Sarah can't tell it's he or she who is moving faster. Her face is cradled between his palms, her fingers entangled in his hair, and the kiss on her lips feels entirely different from anything she has ever experienced before. Alongside the all-encompassing desire igniting all the way down to her core, there's also something inexplicably tender and intimate, like the fire crackling in the living room on a frosty, sleety winter night. Something warm and safe and familiar.

He deepens the kiss, one hand stroking her cheek as she closes her eyes and holds his neck in her arms, feeling his soft tongue sliding gently into her mouth, touching and intertwining with hers. Moaning at the heavenly sensation of it, her eyes closed shut, her body twisting as heat and wetness grow sharply between her legs, Sarah grabs a handful of his chestnut curls and aggressively bites down on his lips, making him frown and grunt. Breaking the kiss, panting slightly, Andrew gazes up at her, his hands still cupping her cheeks, touching his forehead to hers.

"You're really bad, aren't you?"

Sarah presses the tip of one finger to his nose, smiling. She could die for the warmth shimmering in his eyes.

"You have to punish me."

With a little cry, she finds herself scooped up by the hips, and the next second she is thrown down onto his bed on her back, her nostrils filled with his familiar scent. Andrew hovers above her on all fours, his knees on either side of her hips, the tip of his tongue making the slightest contact with her earlobe, making her shudder. She tries to cradle his face into her palms again, but he grabs her wrists and pins them down roughly above her head with one hand, the fingers of the other hand drawing little circles across her fine collarbones. His eyes are peering deeply down into hers, big and dark from desire. They look like gemstones from a remote star.

"You're a very quick learner, Andrew Larrison."

"Compliment taken, Sarah Larrison."

Her heart is beating furiously in her chest in a way she has never experienced before. None of the boys she has messed around with has ever awakened in her the same feeling washing over her right now. She can't believe this is the Andrew she grew up with and thinks she knows as thoroughly as can be, the shy boy who doesn't dare look at people in the eye. Looking down and evading his eyes partly because the intensity of eye contact with him suddenly seems too much to bear, she takes a trembling breath, curling up one leg and touching his hardened cock playfully with her knee, grinning as he groans.

"Kiss me," she whispers.

He bites down hard on her lips this time, making her gasp, the sharp pain sparkling through her kindling another wave of heat that spreads out from her lower stomach like a raging flame. Letting go of her wrists, panting, Andrew lifts up his torso, turning around to grab the tie of his uniform flung across the back of his chair. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart beating frantically in anticipation, Sarah is nonetheless surprised to find his face serious and intense as he gazes back down at her, his fingers clutching hard at the tie.

"I can't do this to you," Andrew says quietly, gesturing towards their groins a bit awkwardly, and she recognizes the diffidence in him again, "I looked it up. It's illegal. We could go to jail."

It takes Sarah several seconds to understand what he means. They can't have intercourse. Or so says the law.

Fuck the law.

But she's not going to argue with him about this right now. Staring up at him, her chest heaving, she nods.

"There're a lot of things we can do."

She trembles as he reaches down again and slowly ties her wrists to the metal bars at the head of his bed, his breath warm on her neck. After he's done, he gives the knot a few tugs to make sure it's tight and firm as she watches, amazed. Shivering at the cold of the air and his touch as his fingers unbutton her shirt, exposing her breasts and caressing her naked skin, she turns her head around and closes her eyes, breathing harshly through her mouth. The wetness between her legs has now become ridiculously insufferable.

"You're beautiful," she hears him murmur.

She moans as his tongue wraps around her hardened nipple, licking and nibbling at it with just the right pressure to turn her into a wriggling, squirming, boneless mess. Hushing her gently as if to soothe her, Andrew reaches one hand down to between her thighs while keeping on playing with her sensitive nipples with his warm, nimble tongue, only to make her grow more aroused and agitated. She hisses at the sudden intrusion of his fingers into her soaked slit, and her hips start to rock up and down instinctively, begging for more. How can he possibly learn so much in just a few days?

Cracking her eyes open and gazing down at him as if spellbound, Sarah can't help realizing how beautiful he is. His face flushed, his eyes gleaming with desire and fixed upon the naked skin on her flat stomach as his mouth wanders south, the lean muscles on his arm flexing in the soft light as he fingers her, he looks familiar and strange to her all at once. Emitting an insuppressible moan and arching her back as he bunches up her skirt and touches the tip of his tongue to that of her bulging clit, she jerks her hips abruptly, only to be held down firmly by his hands. Whimpering, she bites down hard on her bottom lip, desperate for more of that glorious sensation.

"Do you want me to continue?" Andrew whispers, his voice husky, staring up at her in the eye as if to see through her soul, his eyes dark as if bottomless, his chin hovering inches above her naked mound. A loose strand of his chestnut hair dangles across his left eyebrow.

"Yes," she murmurs, transfixed by the sheer beauty before her eyes.

"Beg me."

It's as if these two words had ignited all the blood in her veins. Never breaking eye contact with her, he presses a gentle, too gentle kiss onto her protruding pelvis. She has never seen him like this before.

"Please, Andrew," she hears herself moan, "I want you to make me come with your mouth."

The sensation from her slit makes her melt in pure ecstasy. His swift tongue licking, suckling, swiping, swirling, drawing little circles on and around her sensitive bundle of nerves, he continues to move his fingers in and out of her, crooking them slightly upward to hit repeatedly on that sweet, sensitive spot inside her, making her moan and shudder and beg and writhe in a crazed frenzy. She is making some broken, inarticulate noises she doesn't recognize as hers, her tied wrists rocking helplessly against the metal bars. The overwhelming tension inside her rises higher and higher as he keeps on working her, his fingers and tongue insistent and untired, and she squeezes her eyes shut, imagining the sensation of her brother's cock stretching and filling her from behind instead of his fingers, of him coming hard inside her and moaning into her ears-

She cries out hard as she comes, the sheer force of it wiping her entire mind, entire being blank. Andrew continues moving his fingers in and out of her until the peak of her orgasm has passed and her wails quietened down, his tongue giving gentle, long strokes to across her swollen slit to soothe her. Finally letting go of her, he swipes his mouth with the back of his hand, sits up and crawls back up, hovering above her again.

"Was it...was it good?"

Without a word, she wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him down, her mouth searching eagerly his as her wrists are still tied up and cannot hold him. Andrew smiles, a bit shyly again, and kisses her gently. She can taste herself on his lips.

"You'll be the death of me, Andrew Larrison."

Her heart thumps like crazy in her chest as he presses one kiss after another onto her forehead while untying her. No one has ever done this to her. Not even Gabriel. Grabbing his shoulders with her now freed hands and pushing him down onto the bed on his back, Sarah sits up and straddles him, cupping his face into her hands and starting to shower him with kisses.

"It's impossible. Where did you learn this?" She mumbles between kisses.

Andrew shrugs, unable to hide the smile on his face. He suddenly looks very boyish, his eyes brimming with tenderness. A strange feeling swells up inside her, the same she had that day at the bus stop outside school when she first kissed him, the one that made and is making her heart shudder in bliss so overwhelming that it threatens to burst her chest open.

"Don't know. Just watched the videos you sent me."

"Liar."

"If you say so."

"This is a really bad answer, you ought to know."

"What should I have said instead?"

Sarah's heart sinks.

"You've been with a girl before?"

"I told you, never."

He is staring up at her with innocent eyes, and looks a bit afraid that she's angry. She reaches out one hand to stroke his hair, twirling one curl of his around her finger, feeling very selfish.

"Perhaps this is just something I'm good at. Perhaps it's just you," he says quietly, his eyes cast down. She kisses his eyebrow.

"Is this normal?" She murmurs as if to herself.

"What?"

Sarah presses a kiss onto one corner of his mouth.

"This."

Andrew grabs her hand and kisses it gently.

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

She pauses and ponders.

"No."

She presses another kiss onto his lips and reaches one hand down to stroke his hard cock, applying increasing pressure. Gasping at her movements, he closes his eyes shut, his fingers tightening on her waist. Grinding her hips against his cock through his trousers as he groans and twists under her, she flings his shirt up and starts to leave a string of kisses down his naked torso while crawling gradually down on her knees and elbows, until her chin is hovering above his hardened shaft.

Looking up, she finds Andrew is covering his eyes with his arm, his face turned away.

"Andrew, Andrew," she coos, caressing his thighs, "look at me."

It takes her a few more pleas for him to finally meet her eyes. Peering down at her, his face flushed crimson, he looks incredibly exposed and vulnerable. It makes her want to hold him into her arms and never let go.