No Consequences Pt. 01

I did ... I should, I was now slowly pumping myself.

She got off the bed stood beside the corner of the mattress, pushed down on it a couple of times ... I guessed to see how firm it was, then flipped the comforter away and edged onto it and was expertly grinding her pussy into the corner of the mattress for a bit before adding her fingers — it was unbelievably sexy, all the more so because she was doing it for me as performance, the last things she needed was to get off again. But I did. When I could feel it starting to build I told her to lie down on her back; when she did I aimed myself at her and emptied what little I had on her tits. When she gave me full gums in approval I felt disgusted with myself and with her.

And I was feeling disgusted now as I sat with my prick in my hand. So the girl isn't all that attractive, big deal, she has a bunch of other things going for her. Ya, but I knew I couldn't get past her looks; I just couldn't picture me in public with a woman I wouldn't want to be photographed with.

I cleaned up quickly and continued writing until 11:30, continued putting my idealized version of Kon into my main character then, instead of making lunch, I walked down to a diner a couple of miles away.

I was feeling shitty. I often had these bouts; it isn't depression, it is self-realization: there is nothing meaningful in my life, not one fucking thing. I have no family left and I've never bothered to make friends — I've had all kinds of opportunities but I've never once reached out — people are as difficult for me in fact as they are in fiction. As a result there are no meaningful people in my world; I don't socialize, I don't do anything that involved people, don't play on sports teams, don't go the the gym, don't belong to any clubs, don't do church, don't do anything where I have to interact with anyone. I avoid people largely by design — I don't actually like them, but the longer I live alone the greater the problem this becomes. I am the centre of my own little world and there isn't much beyond my space that holds any interest for me. Not good, particularly when you meet someone like Konrada Remp and all you see, once you get past the body, is fault. Obviously, my attitude is not sustainable for a long and happy life but I have no idea how to shake it. Over the years I've occasionally tried to socialize but people always piss me off. Like Kon is doing, but worse, she is making me look at myself, too. Not something I want to do.

So I was in a foul mood when I got home. I often go for a long punishing run when I get like this, it usually gets me out of it but this time I thought I'd buy my way out of it.

When I offered to buy Kon some underwear I had no intention of actual doing so, I said it as more of a hint that she should be wearing nicer stuff. But she has been nothing but good to me since she walked into my life so I thought I'd deliver on my offer; the measurements she gave me at the time were indelibly locked in my head.

My mood lifted when I decided to actually do something for somebody but I wondered if that was it or was it that I was really looking forward to the experience? I have never bought anything for a woman before, never mind lingerie so I've never been to one of those stores. But I knew were one was because as I passed by it I always looked to see what was in the window.

The place was all but empty when I walked in. I was surprised at my confidence. I shouldn't have had any, I knew nothing about anything in the place. But I knew how to browse and when that didn't work, I knew how to ask questions.

About a half hour later I was in a far better mood as I sat in my car fingering my purchases. When I talked to the sales woman I wasn't thinking of the body that was going to slip into some of the things we were looking at, I was thinking of the conversation we had last night, how much fun she had been, how cocky she was ... that's no doubt why it occurred to me and when it did I got a rush and a smile ... and I actually giggled as I headed back into the store.

When I drove into my driveway she was leaning against her car. "No yoga pants?" I commented, a tad disappointed.

"I was shopping, you don't wear yoga pants shopping, at least I don't ... maybe to Walmart," she snickered, "if you're way, way too big for them."

I loved her little asides. "I like you in yoga pants."

"I bought a bunch of groceries, you were down to nothing."

I helped her in with the bags and immediately went out for a long run ... why, I don't know except that I seemed to be a lot more nervous these days, with a lot more pent-up energy to burn off.

When I came into the kitchen after showering she was cooking. Something curious was happening between us that I just now noticed. I liked the woman but didn't like her looks, I'm sure that kind of thing happens all the time but what was interesting about it is that the last impression I had of her seemed to endure until I deliberately changed it. For instance, when I left the house to go to the lingerie store I did so reluctantly, I wasn't going to go at all except I said I would and I had already stiffed her with the shaving thing which I felt bad about. So I wasn't actually interested in her when I asked the sales woman for help; I just meant to get a couple of things and get out of there. But when the woman asked me to describe her and what kinds of things she might like, I thought of the fun person and the body and what might look good on it ... like everything would. I was still carrying those positive thoughts of her into the kitchen so I went up behind her at the counter and hugged her, not lewdly, not grabbing her tits or anything, just taking her around the waist and pulling her into me and I kissed her on the neck. When she turned around I got the full gums and a kiss on the cheek then she went back to what she was doing and I got some water and sat down watching her. "Those yoga pants would look good right about now."

"Maybe I could get a pair and leave them here."

"I got you a present, like I said I would."

She quickly turned around smiling excitedly. "You did?"

"Want to see them?"

"Of course I want to see them."

I stood up. "Go into the bedroom and strip and I'll get them."

I left for my office to get the bags and got to the bedroom just in time to see her stepping out of her blue cotton panties — it still astonished me how comfortable she is with nakedness, way more comfortable than I am. "I'm not an expert at this, I hope you like what I chose." I stifled a grin.

I did it because of the fun I had with her last night and because of her cockiness and I wanted to tease her. And because I thought she would find it fun.

When I left my car earlier in the day and went back into the store I went in to get a small bag which I got then drove to Walmart where I recruited a youngish Filipino clerk — rather than me paw through everything they had, which might have seemed a tad kinky. I told the clerk I wanted the ugliest, most colourful girl's panties they had. She smiled and said 'we definitely can do ugly around here,' then she asked me the size and within moments she was holding up her trophy with a grin. They were perfect: garish — purple and orange with pink and yellow polkadots of different sizes and a yellow fringe around everything. I imagined them behind her yoga pants and gave her a thumbs up. The bra took no longer. The one she held up was deep yellow with what looked like flopping blue wings hanging from the top — they looked like they'd be great for a transexual sailor. I took them both and just as I was about to walk them to the counter she held up what looked like a slingshot but turned out to be a minimalist panty — I took that, too.

I gave her the slingshot first. When I pulled it from the bag and handed it over her face gave nothing away, she took it and without comment slipped it on and just stood there, looking just a little sheepish and completely ridiculous. "It feels like I'm wearing an eye patch."

The minimalism accentuated her strong thighs and flat stomach which, itself, made her breasts appear all the larger; I felt my existing erection begin to strain and I wondered, oddly, if I'd ever get a chance to meet her mother: I was more than curious to see how this body aged.

Practical jokes lose a little something when the subject is so innocently cooperative. Ya, she looked kind of ridiculous, but not really.

"I was just kidding with that," I said, handing her the bag, not at all sure that I wasn't just compounding the error.

She looked a little relieved. "You're an asshole," she said, quickly stripping off the eyepatch and making a kind of slingshot out of it, holding it against a finger and flicked it at me.

I caught it. "I got it to prove a point. Do you have any idea how awful this thing would have looked on you if you hadn't done what I suggested ... and I only suggested it, I never actually told you to shave, I'd never tell you to do that."

"You not only demanded I shave, you put all the stuff out there for me to do it with ... now you deny it? Really?" If she shaved it was just the merest of trims, her hair looked just as dense as it did before. She was holding up the panties looking not a little confused but she compliantly put them on then quickly fetched the bra from the bag and made short work of that, too. She must have known it was a gag, but a gag that was backfiring. "I don't mind being teased, I don't mind it at all — I've had a lot of experience with it growing up but I hate wasting money and with these things, that's what you're doing."

She was supposed to look ridiculous but she didn't, she looked defiant.

I walked over to the bed and reach under it and pulled out the bigger bag. "I was just having a little fun."

"You were trying to embarrass me ... I don't embarrass easily."

No kidding. I held out the bag to her. "These I like; I hope you do too ... if you want to wear your other stuff that's fine by me I just thought I'd treat you. The sales woman told me that women who wear this stuff do it because it makes them feel more confident, more sexy, more happy, more all kinds of things ... maybe less gullible. She said that most of the women who shop there are far more interested in pleasing themselves than pleasing their husbands ... or boyfriends. I doubt you're an exception."

She was putting on the underwear as perfunctorily as she did the others. "I've tried to make it perfectly obvious to you that I'm trying to please you — it's the way we fend off being dumped." She straightened and looked at me challengingly.

"That's the other way ... looking like that." I never knew I pad a panty fetish until that moment. "You're spectacular." I got up and dropped down in front of her pecking and licking her stomach then looking up at her. "Can we take a bit of a break from all of this talk of dumping?"

"Why? It's going to happen. Once you've been in every crevasse in my body I'm going to be history."

"What do you expect me to say to that?"

Her fingers raked into my hair. I rubbed my face against her warm taunt skin as I waited for her to answer. "I don't know, it just feels good when I say it; it feels like a release of tension; it reminds me not to get my hopes up."

I kissed and sucked her skin. "Hopes for what exactly?"

"I like to put on what you want me to wear; I liked to shave off some of my hair when you asked me to; to cook and care for you. What do I get out of that? I get to feel like this ... and don't ask me what that is, I'd never be able to explain it. Why do we work hard? Why do we try to get better? Why do we bother getting up in the morning? To feel like I do when I'm around you; to feel like I do now. This feels like it has meaning because I'm trying as hard as I can — it feels like, for the very first time in my life, I'm really living. Its wonderful, you should try it ... the giving-living part."

I sat back on my haunches and looked up at her. "That isn't fair. You're not supposed to walk into my life and offer undying words of commitment, you're supposed to work through the process of a relationship, that's what I'm doing; you can't start a relationship in the middle, you have to start it at the beginning and hit all the markers."

She scoffed. "This coming from a guy who has never been in a relationship."

"Neither have you."

Fire flashed in her eyes. "I have so, I have friends and I have relationships with those friends which is more than you can say."

"Did you start those relationships half way through?"

"In effect, ya I did because when I met these people I was determined to make them part of my life, not like you, not assuming it will be over before it actually begins — that's the process you're thinking of — it's not starting half way through, it's ending half way through. Fuck you."

"Back to the dumping again. Why are you so sure ..."

"Because you know how to take my clothes off, you just don't care about who it is you're stripping. How many brothers and sisters do I have? Where did I work and where am I going to work? What are my hobbies, other than putting out for you? What's my favourite food? Do I like dogs or cats? What's my political ideology? You can't answer any of these questions but you know where every blemish on my body is."

"You're liberal, just like your sister; you named your dog Leftie and you'll be working for a Pinko do-good thinktank, and it's too bad about your folks, they would have loved to know you're hanging with a kind and gentle novelist who thinks only good thoughts about people and who really likes their daughter who, quite frankly, should dress better, wear more make-up and learn to respect the stronger sex." I punctuated this by leaning forward and kissing her belly.

"My parents are still very much with us and glad that their only child isn't hung-up on mirrors and they're probably glad that she's anything but an ideologue ... they would be appalled to know what she is having to do with her body so she can be with a man who is interested only in it."

"Says you." I got up and sat on the bed. "The trouble with you, and I'll say it again: you want a result the moment the race has begun. That's irrational."

"Ever heard of visualization — you envision the outcome and focus only on that, the very opposite of what you're doing which is to just assume that it's not going anywhere and work hard to make that happen ... but, hey, this is a lot better than nothing: I can delude myself into thinking I have a chance — you're teaching me to live in the moment."

She walked over to my dresser and opened my top drawer.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm putting my underwear away — I'm just wearing these things here ... for you ... I don't want to have to come here to take them back when it's over; that would be humiliating; kind of like giving the ring back. Where are your ties?"

"My ties?"

"When I was driving home yesterday I was having this fantasy," she looked over her shoulder at me, "stick with me on this."

I chuckled. "Don't worry."

"I knew you were only wanting to get to know me physically so I was thinking about why shouldn't I get to know you that way, too and by the time I was half way home I had my jeans unbutton and my fingers down there enjoying the scene I was just imagining." She hesitated.

I didn't. "Which was?"

"I tied you up on the bed and I just had my way with you ... so, where do you keep your ties?"

"On a rack in the closet," I said this quickly, way too quickly to be cool.

She went there and selected four, one of which is a favourite which I was all too willing to sacrifice. I cooperated fully as she wordlessly tied me naked to the four corners. Then she took off her underwear and put it in the drawer with the others then put on the garish panties. "Might as well get these ones messy." She was about to put on the bra with the wings when I told her not to. She thought for a moment then didn't.

If it had been me on her I would have lost it in moments. She didn't. To me this seemed like it wasn't about her letting herself out, it seemed more like she was taking me in, one lick, one kiss, one bite, one suck at a time. It felt more affectionate than sexual, more emotionally seductive than physically stimulating until she had explored me from the tip of my sucked toe to the top of my licked forehead. Then she stood at the end of the bed in all her magnificent nudity. "I loved that, Jason, I absolutely loved that." When she bent forward her breasts hung down fabulously then she reached for my erection and put it in her mouth. I lasted about three seconds before I arrived without warning.

She didn't complain; she swallowed, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand then lay down beside me with her head on my chest.

"Sorry," I said, sheepishly.

She didn't react.

"Are you going to untie me?"

"I thought I'd get my sexual history out of the way first ... it won't take long. OK?"

"Sure." This was going to go down as one of the best hours in my life.

Instead, it went down as my most frustrating.

She was snuggled into me, her leg over mine so her pussy was pushing hard into my hip. "I was the first girl in my class to develop so even though I was far from the prettiest I was getting all the attention ... attention I didn't want; I just hated it. I learned to freeze boys out early and then I just kept on freezing them. Is this what you want?"

"I was thinking more of the details?"

"OK. The first time I had sex was in college. It was with a woman which was completely unexpected because before that I had never even consider sex with a woman, well, hardly ever."

When my prick started to twitch she snickered, "You guys." Then she turned around so her head was on my belly and her pussy on my outstretched arm.

She didn't much like the girl; she just found herself in her room, talking about a course when it started. 'Are you horny?' the girl had asked. No, she said. 'I am,' and with that she opened her jeans and forced her fingers down between her legs.

"I was going to leave but her intensity kind of grabbed me and made me stay; she wanted me to watch her. So I did — we all masturbate, right, no big deal? But soon she pushed her pants off and she had on these really sexy pink panties that looked so unlike anything she should have been wearing, I mean in that instant I got what the panty thing was all about."

She was just an awkward bystander for a bit, wondering why she wasn't getting out of there, then when the girl reached out and squeezed Kon's breast it changed everything.

"I don't know why it changed everything, it wasn't like I was attracted to her, I wasn't; I think I just liked the liberation — the fact that I was finally opening myself up to a sexual advance."

So she didn't object when the girl stopped her frigging and started unbuttoning Kon's shirt ... in fact by the time she got halfway down Kon was helping her and she helped her with her bra and a bit later she was shocked to see she was pushing down her pants as the girl was pulling.

She looked up at me to see if I was listening ... as if.

When the woman moved to suck on her breast, she let her, even made it easier for her. And she opened her legs when her fingers raked through her hair. She was physically shocked that this was happening and that she was letting it happen but she forced herself to relax, to take it all in and in moments it wasn't hard to do because it was feeling great and she discovered she had absolutely no moral issues with it, she just wished she was there with someone else. Who? She couldn't think of anyone and that, she remembered, really bothered her.

But the opportunity didn't. The girl was frigging herself as she ate Kon which was great for awhile but then got irritating so she decided to do her own exploring — why waste the opportunity?