Sex and Candy

"Now I'm going to hang up before this gets any more weird. Have fun you two!"

The call ended and the phone went dark, but the two of us were so lost in each others' eyes that we barely noticed.

***********

I was very relieved at the change I was seeing in his eyes. Josh wasn't overly emotional most of the time, so anything he felt I could read on his face with perfect clarity. He was such an open book to me, and I adored that. He was nothing like David, who had been able to lie so effortlessly. David's eyes were always forceful, working hard to convince me of something. But, as I found myself relaxing into Josh's gaze, I saw wonder and hope, and the sadness was draining away.

When he'd first peeked out his door at me, I could read the pain as plain as day. He was confused and cautious, not knowing what to expect in the hallway, but that was minor compared to the anguish I saw there. My heart went out to him; he'd said goodbye to his first love yesterday.

All through the phone call with Sherry, I was able to stay calm, stick with my plan. I knew she would say nothing but good things about him, she always did. He needed to hear that. I knew he'd found it difficult to believe when he received compliments, thinking maybe she was exaggerating or being diplomatic to his face. But hearing her talk about him while not knowing he was listening was an experience he had to accept as truth.

The boost to his self-esteem was instantly obvious, especially to me. He sat straighter, much more confident, and even smiled a little while trying not to let me see. He needed to be proud of himself. I wanted him proud.

He was always sure of himself when Sherry was around, and I found that so attractive. Now I wanted to be the one to do that for him. And hopefully, much, much more.

I was surprised at how we were comfortably watching each other, but I realized that someone was going to have to break the silence.

"So," I said, "the suitcase..."

I stood and went to the case against the wall, laying it down and opening it so he could see from his chair.

It was basically an overnight bag. There were a couple outfits, pajamas, toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, and anything else I thought I might need if I stayed the night.

Josh didn't comment, but I could tell he understood. I closed the suitcase and then drug it down the hall to his bedroom. The wheels didn't do very well on his carpet, but it was a short trip.

I looked around in his room, deciding the best option was to just shove it into the closet for now. When I closed the closet door and turned around, he was standing in the doorway.

"Look, uh, Candy..." he began. I already knew what he was going to say. He was apprehensive, and didn't want to make me angry. This would be easy to fix.

"Hold on, Josh. I know what you're thinking. This is too fast. You aren't ready. Right?"

He nodded, wide-eyed with surprise at my mind-reading skills.

"I'm not trying to rush you, not at all. I just like being prepared. All of the things in that suitcase are spares. It can stay in your closet, I won't miss it, and it'll be there if we ever need it."

He relaxed.

I had to admit to myself I was bending the truth a bit. I didn't exactly want to rush him, but I was going to make damn sure I helped him get over Sherry as quickly as I could. I was in a hurry, because my body was telling me to jump on him, and my heart had already done so.

"So... are you hungry? We could go grab lunch somewhere..."

***********

Being with Candace was like being at home. I had no other way to describe it. I felt loved. I felt trusted. I felt wanted. I felt like she was totally curious about me, not just pretending to be interested to keep the conversation going.

Back on my first date with Sherry, it felt effortless, that everything went so smoothly and we connected easily. In comparison to that day with Candace, though, it was awkward.

We had walked to a little traditional Mexican restaurant that many students frequented. It felt like a safe, neutral place to call our first date.

I deflected her questions towards me for the most part, keeping the topic on her past with David. I wanted to know where all the hidden land mines were before I said or did something stupid. I knew she'd had her heart broken viciously and hadn't been on a date with anyone since then, which was before I'd met Sherry.

It didn't take long to find out why: she'd tried to surprise him at his place and walked in on him on top of another girl. Rather than acting ashamed or embarrassed by being caught cheating, he was livid - angry at Candace for "ruining the best fuck he'd gotten all year."

She knew heartbreak far better than I ever could. My pain was just a dull ache in comparison. She had felt deep betrayal on top of loss.

We walked to the restaurant with a little distance between us. At some point during our lunch, I realized I had put my hand on hers when it looked like she might cry while she spoke. It seemed to calm her, and we carried on without mentioning the continuous contact. We walked back to her place, chatting happily while holding hands.

Obeying our tentative decision to take things slowly, I simply hugged her at her door and didn't ask her to let me in. I was smiling as she closed the door, and I was headed away when I heard her door open again.

"Josh?"

I turned back, and she was right there, her chest almost touching mine. Pushing up on her toes and pulling my head down gently, she kissed me, softly. As she pulled away, she was grinning and biting her bottom lip. She practically bounced back to her doorway and gave me a little wave as I walked away.

I couldn't help but compare the way things had gone to my first date with Sherry. We were going slower, certainly, but I felt so much more secure in what we had. I felt like Candy and I were really friends, not fuck buddies. Even more importantly, I was very optimistic about the future.

I also couldn't help but wonder exactly how slow we were going to go. I wasn't in a hurry, I was very happy with the way things had gone. But if Sherry had been eager to have sex and had no reason to take her time with me, it made sense that we consummated that relationship on the first date. And since Candace was insistent on taking our time, when would that happen for us? Fourth date? Tenth? Heck, maybe she was waiting for an engagement ring first.

It turned out that the answer was the second date, to our mutual surprise.

I'd been mentally avoiding the classic college-age date: pizza and Netflix. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I just felt like she deserved better. So for our second date I was considering a fancy restaurant, a movie, and a walk through the park, but the weather and my wallet weren't cooperating.

It was Wednesday, four days after our lunch together. I wanted to have something spectacular planned for Friday. I needed to figure out how to do that soon, and then make myself call her to ask her out. Both of those things were daunting.

She threw those concerns to the side with a simple text exchange:

Candy: Hey are you free tonight? Mind if I come over? [13:36]

Josh: Sure, I'd love to see you. What time? [13:38]

Candy: I'm free now... [13:39]

Josh: Well why didn't you say so? ;) [13:39]

Candy: It's a date! On my way! [13:40]

I panicked, knowing I had a rather empty fridge. Our second date was going to be an unplanned disaster. Before I had any time to do anything about it, she was knocking on the door.

It turned out that I had no reason to worry. She confidently took control of the evening. We relaxed and chatted in front of the TV, while she took the remote and browsed what was available on Netflix. We never ended up watching anything, instead scrolling through, pointing out what we had already seen, whether it was worth watching again, and so on. I felt as though we were two old friends catching up.

I offered to make dinner, but after looking through the pitiful offerings of my fridge and cupboards, I winced and said, "Grilled cheese?"

She laughed and pulled out her phone, calling to order a pizza.

When it arrived, we sat on the couch again to eat in front of the TV, re-watching some series that we had both binged on our own months ago. I must have looked guilty, and she prodded until I told her why. So I described my first date with Sherry, on this same couch in front of this same TV, eating pizza.

To my surprise, she actually grinned at me.

"Well, how about we put the rest of this pizza in the fridge and take some time to make a new memory?"

She's a smart woman.

I was only in the kitchen for a moment and when I returned I saw clothing in my desk chair. She was wearing just a tan colored hoodie, nothing more, sitting on the couch on her hip, legs curled up under her to one side. Seeing her sitting like that with the curve of her obviously nude bottom accented by her bare feet was so much more erotic than I would have believed.

Her face was flushed and her eyes were wide and adorable as she crooked a finger at me. I stumbled toward her as though her finger were pulling an invisible string attached to my groin.

When she sat up, reaching for my zipper, I knew I had to do something to change this scene. Sherry had always taken control because of my lack of experience and confidence. I wanted a different memory.

So I shook my head, kneeling on the floor and reaching for her hips. I arched my eyebrows, as a way of asking permission, and she nodded once. I was giddy with the understanding that we had already. I pulled her towards me, so that her bottom was at the edge of the cushion, and pushed her skinny legs up over my shoulders where she crossed her ankles behind my back.

So effortless, already in perfect sync. Both certain of each other and what we wanted.

I tried going slow, taking my time. I really did. But her scent was burning through my self control and I was overeager to just get a quick taste. I only managed a handful of kisses on the inside of her thighs and then one soft lick along the crease at the top of her leg, just to the side of her soft lips. Then, without any conscious decision, my face was buried in her folds, tasting her everywhere: up and down, inside, and along every square millimeter of exposed pink flesh.

From the sounds she was making, she clearly didn't mind one tiny bit.

I used everything I had learned - admittedly inadequate for such a beautiful creature.

I started slow, adding lots of variety, tracing invisible letters with the tip of my tongue mixed with trying to see how deep I could bury my tongue in her. I wasn't actually attempting to tease, I was just enjoying her flavor and the sounds of her moans. When she grabbed my head and pressed her groin hard to my face, I realized she was getting frustrated with me playing around.

I focused my attack, rolling the flat of my tongue in small, quick circles over her tiny clit. She gasped, "fingers," and I obliged, tilting my head to make room for my first two fingers to enter her and curl upwards.

Less than a minute of that was all it took to push her over the edge, and she let out a low groan that slowly rose in pitch and turned into a loud growl as I felt my fingers were clamped hard in place inside her. She was relaxing and clenching in a continuous rolling wave, clearly having a long, powerful orgasm. It went on at least twice as long as I've ever seen.

I didn't realize she had tensed her entire body, slowly lifting from the couch into my face, until she finally relaxed and dropped back down.

She was gasping, eyes closed, her neck and face were so flushed they looked sunburned.

I wasn't sure what to do. I'd never seen this reaction. Sherry was always so animated after an orgasm, like she'd just gotten a huge dose of adrenaline and caffeine.

Some part of my brain worried that I'd broken her. I pulled my fingers out of her and she winced, but otherwise she made no other acknowledgment that she was even conscious.

The TV was still on, and I could hear that another episode had started while we were both so distracted.

I quietly stood, and was now pretty sure that she was asleep. I didn't like the way she was laying, with her neck bent far forward and her chin pressed against her chest. So I sat at the other end of the couch and gently pulled her up to rest her head on my lap and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch onto her.

She was dead to the world. I could only grin, beaming in pride at myself. I hadn't broken her and I was pretty sure I'd just repaired myself.

I wasn't interested in the show, it was just background noise as I watched her face and ran my fingers through her hair. I was humming some nameless tune. When was the last time I was so happy that I just spontaneously started humming?

A humorous little thought popped into my head, and I started singing:

"I smell sex and Candy here...

Who's that lounging in my chair?

Who's that casting devious stares

In my direction..."

***********

I realized I was too hot. That's what woke me up. My chest was sweating. My head was laying on something hard and it was dark.

I pushed a blanket off of my upper body and struggled to push away the fog in my brain. I had no idea where I was.

Blinking, it came back to me in a rush. I reached down... yes, I was still wearing just my hoodie. Laying on the couch and using Josh's thigh as a pillow.

He was still fully dressed, head lolled back so that I couldn't see his face, but was clearly asleep.

Guilt washed over me. When had I ever been a selfish lover? He'd given me incredible pleasure, easily the best orgasm of my life, and I'd just fallen asleep rather than reciprocate.

Gently rolling from the couch onto the floor, I crawled to the chair and pulled my phone from the pocket of my pants. It was 11:17 pm. Damn, I'd royally fucked this date up.

I tried to imagine what he thought of me, how he'd look back on tonight. Would he remember that he found out how lazy and selfish I was on our second date? Or worse, our last date?

I hated myself at that moment. I had to fix things. I'd loved him from a distance and this was the night to reveal that. There was still time.

Staying on my knees, I crawled back over to him, kneeling between his feet. Gently, I lifted his shirt enough to unbutton his khakis and carefully pull the zipper down.

He was wearing some tight boxer briefs made from a smooth satin. Simply feeling him through the fabric was enough to firmly put me in the mood again. I slowly traced the outline of his member with my fingertip, watching it twitch and stiffen.

I soon realized he was awake, watching me admire him. I made a decision.

"No more couch memories," I said, standing and holding my hand out to help him up.

Our lips met before he even finished standing, and stayed locked together in a passionate caressing of each other's tongues. He guided me, as I walked backwards down the hall to his bedroom, then our lips finally separated as I fell backwards onto his bed.

When he sunk to his knees, I knew what he was going for again.

"Oh no you don't, mister. Get up here. It's my turn."

He actually looked abashed! Gosh, was he really that eager to please? Maybe Sherry had him convinced he had to work hard to earn his own pleasure. I was beginning to feel like I was drowning in my own guilt at this point.

I had to show him.

In less than a minute, I'd taken the clothes he was wearing and turned them into a pile on the floor, then tossed my hoodie on top.

We were both standing, kissing deeply, as our hands roamed over each other. He was clearly fascinated by my breasts, and I had to admit that made me deliriously happy. They were a little smaller than Sherry's, and he didn't seem to care.

I broke our kiss briefly. "She was on top? On the couch?"

He nodded, knowing what I was referring to. I was just as eager to make this different for us.

So I flopped onto my back on his bed, pulling him down on top of me.

He looked a little worried. "Birth control?"

I nodded to him with a grin. Technically, he was probably asking if I was on the pill (and I wasn't), but I knew my cycle and I was certain that I wasn't fertile for the next couple days.

Reaching down, I grasped him and stroked for a second, impressed with how incredibly hard he was in this moment. If he ever asked how he compared to my previous lovers, I'd happily tell him the truth. I'd had sex with three other guys before him. The first two were woefully unequipped, but that might have just been our youth. David's had probably been a little bit longer, but Josh's was by far the thickest I'd ever seen in person.

I might have been worried if I wasn't so insanely turned on. Being so wet helped him slide into me with only minimal effort.

Closing my eyes, I groaned loudly as my way of conveying how good it felt to be so full.

When he was all the way in, he held still and kissed me.

"It doesn't get more perfect than this," I whispered.

But then, I was wrong. It got better than that.

It was slow and filled with love and passion. He seemed to be savoring me, savoring our connection. For the first few minutes, we simply held eye contact and he very slowly withdrew most of the way, then entered again just as slowly. It was so erotic, relishing the steady friction, feeling myself stretch and fill, then relax as I emptied.

I'd never experienced anything like this. I didn't plan to have an orgasm; I never did from penetrative sex alone. But to my amazement, I felt it building anyway. My hips were moving on their own, lifting each time he entered me, adding to the force and giving me some delicious friction.

My enthusiasm seemed to be affecting him as well, as he gradually increased his speed and ending each thrust with a short, firm shove. I had been softly moaning, but that turned into a clipped, "oh!" as I felt his pelvis slam against mine.

Finally, I couldn't keep the eye contact anymore. My eyes were out of focus, and I had to close them to keep from getting dizzy. This let me focus even better on the sensations, feeling right there on the edge. I could feel him swelling inside me, throbbing. He was close, too. I was on fire.

With a deep, confident voice, he whispered to me. "Let go, Candy. Give it to me. Cum for me."

With his words I fell over the edge. My arms flailed to the sides and I balled my fists with the bed sheet. It was powerful. I couldn't moan for him, even though I wanted to, to let him know. I was holding my breath, letting the pleasure wash over me in waves, feeling the delicious uncontrolled squeezing on his thick cock.

I pulled him with me into his own orgasm. He was growling through his clenched teeth and it felt as though his whole body tensed. He was quivering with the effort of trying to keep thrusting, but unable to control his own hips.

My climax was just starting to relax when I realized I could feel his powerful throbbing inside me and my own pleasure roared back into full flame. I've never had that happen before.

We both relaxed surprisingly quickly, flexing muscles that were almost sore from the tension. I opened my fists and flexed my fingers, thankful that they didn't cramp. As soon as I was sure my hands worked properly, I used them to grab his head and pull his lips to mine.

We shared an extended kiss, just our lips pressed together.

When I released him, I caught his gaze again.

"Josh?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not trying to pressure you, I swear. But I have to tell you something."

There was a pause and I watched him thinking.

Finally, he spoke. "I'm guessing you're going to tell me that you are in love with me, but you don't want to scare me away by moving too fast."

Dumbfounded, I could only give him a wide-eyed nod.