Not What You Think

I keep close to his side the entire night, observing, not saying much. I'm being introduced as his new girlfriend (although not by him- his friend Sarah, who's hosting the party, is the one making introductions) to sly smiles from people who know him, people who are undoubtedly wondering why he's dating someone as reserved (or is it shy?) as me. "Reserved" is one of the last words someone would use to describe Jaime, and it would seem that he more often than not surrounded himself with people more like him.

I can tell that his friends think I'm shy due to my inarticulateness, and I can only assume that in their minds, shyness is associated with innocence. These people must know Jaime well, or at least well enough to know that he has a temper. It's obvious from the way that everyone is very cautious when speaking to us, that they don't want to say or do anything that would shock or offend me for fear of upsetting him.

One guy, Dave, who looks like he's well on his way to drinking himself into a coma, is an exception to this rule. While he and Jaime are engaged in conversation, he decides to tell a dirty joke about an Irishman and a Japanese woman. At the punch line, only a couple people chuckle half-heartedly. Most just remain silent and glance nervously in our direction.

Jaime is also looking at me, gauging my reaction, and I can tell from his expression that my already-huge eyes have gotten wider. When Dave finally catches on to the expectant air that is centered on us, he suggests in heavily slurred speech that Jaime take me upstairs to make me share the same fate as the Japanese woman.

"That might loosen her up a little!" he laughs, doing his best to wink slyly at my date. I feel my face crunch up in what I'm sure is a pretty good imitation of confusion, anxiety, fear and outright disgust.

Jaime's expression also changes, from concern to anger. He punches Dave hard in the shoulder before grabbing my arm and steering me down the hallway and into the shelter and relative privacy of the bathroom.

As soon as he slams the door, he whirls to face me and immediately grabs me by my shoulders, kissing me fiercely. I kiss back, just as hard while my hands go to his waist and clasp the hem of his white t-shirt, intending to pull it off. He stops me with his big hands over mine and a slight shake of his head.

"No time," he mumbles into my lips, then sucks my tongue into his mouth for a demonstration of what is to come.

I barely have time to nod in acquiescence to his unspoken request before he has lifted me onto the sink, reached between my legs, and torn away the bit of black lace that had been serving as my panties. I assume that he carelessly drops them to the floor as he leans me back against the wall gently and pushes my skirt up around my waist, his lips still connected to mine.

Suddenly his strong hands go behind my knees and lift, separating them and bringing them level with my head, totally exposing my most intimate area. Then he kneels in front of me, his face only inches from my sex.

"Wow. For me?" he breathes, and before I have time to answer or react, I feel his lips, his tongue in my slit.

The sensation makes me jerk, and I grab my knees because I need to hold onto something. With his hands thus freed, he quickly puts them to better use, caressing and squeezing and inserting digits into cavities. He is so gentle and talented that it only takes about a minute for me to tangle my fingers in his hair and ride the wave of pleasure that washes over me. As I come back down, shuddering and gasping, he licks me clean, then considerately wipes his mouth before kissing me and helping me down from the sink. Standing on my own two feet, I'm still shaky as he pulls my skirt back down and pats me on the butt. I smile at him and he smiles back before seizing my hand and turning to leave.

"No way," I say thickly, squeezing his hand tightly and causing him to turn back.

"What?" he asks, slightly bewildered. "We have to get back to the party. People are gonna wonder-- "

The shake of my head and my finger over his lips silences him. "I don't care," I purr. "You can't do something that good without giving me a chance to reciprocate-unless it's my birthday," I add with a devilish grin. "Come here."

He comes, melts into my arms. "Oh, baby."

I kiss his lips briefly, then nibble on his ear for a moment before trailing kisses down his neck and over his shirt-clad chest until I reach his belly button. There, I lift his shirt and circle it with my tongue a few times. In the meantime, my hands are busy unbuckling his jeans. His throbbing erection doesn't wait for me; it springs out, uninhibited, from the hole in the front of his boxers.

I smile and get down on my knees, coming face to face with it. Tentatively I stick out my tongue to get a small taste of him, before opening my mouth wide to completely devour his cock. Like him, I am talented with my mouth, and that, combined with the fact that he was more than ready to come, makes short work of my oral efforts. He, too, comes in a matter of about a minute.

Copying his previous actions, I considerately wipe my mouth before standing to kiss him. He kisses me back, hard, while zipping his jeans, and then smoothes my hair as we both turn to go.

We step back out into the hallway, and Sarah turns from Dave to face us, looking concerned.

"I'm sorry about him, Jaime. Is she okay?" she asks, motioning to me.

"Yeah, she's fine," he says, protectively pulling me closer to his side. "No harm done."

Later, as we're walking out the front door, he calls out a goodbye to Dave, probably just to let him know that everything's cool between them.

"Hey, Dave! Later, man!"

"Dave looks up from his beer, obviously not quite able to identify the caller's voice. He squints at us, concentrating.

"Oh, Jaime! I'll see you later, dude! I'll... catch you... on the flip side! Ha ha!" I turn back towards the door, thinking everything's settled, but Dave continues on.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that joke earlier! Tell your girl for me... she looks pissed, still. I didn't know she was so... innocent... and sensitive, and stuff. But you know how I-wait-what?!"

I had felt Jaime's hand delve into the pocket of his jeans closest to me seconds before Dave is rendered speechless. Now Jaime's holding his arm out behind me, and due to the weird angle that it's at, I can't turn my head to see what is in his hand. Instead I look to his face, where there is positively the most evil grin.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I let go of his waist and turn my head back, desperately trying to see what he has, but he's already tucking it back into his pocket. Just before it's completely stashed, however, I catch a glimpse of something black and lacy.

"It's nothing," he says easily, winking slyly at a silent, gaping Dave before turning to smile at me and pull me back to his side. "Come on, let's go."