The Seduction of Jade Ch. 04

I've spent countless hours looking at the world through a viewfinder ever since I got my first 35mm film camera, many moons ago. I'm not a classically trained head shrinker but my ability to spot a trainwreck walking my way is uncanny and should at least get me college credit. Not that I listen to my gut as much as I should, mind you. Hell, half the time I never paid it any attention at all and the other half of the time I couldn't wait to see how gloriously bad this mistake was going to turn out to be. Much like my naughty kitten was turning out to be.

Distractions aside, the reason I bring it up is pretty simple. I believe that people get their kinks and ideas of what is pleasurable during intimacy within the first few experiences with sex they have of any kind good, bad, or ugly. There are exceptions, I fully understand that. Women that fall into that category are the most interesting to be with. For them, anything goes or at the very least they'll try anything once and maybe even twice just to make sure if they liked your goto move, or not, under the sheets. Not giving advice that you wouldn't use yourself is a smart rule to live by in my humble opinion.

I guess that's why my dad and I stopped talking to one another. The more I knew him, the more of a hypocrite he turned out to be in my view. Every day, I try to apply how I treated everyone I came into contact with and turned that treatment inwardly on myself. Just to see if I would judge my own skeletons or even my self morality in an honest way. That was when memories of Dawn started to bubble back up to the surface from the vault of long ago lovers. Sometimes you look back and just shake your head at missed chances, other times you just smile at how stupid you were at points with a former mate. With her, it was all of that and now some remorse that things ended the way they did. I was young, dumb, and the poster boy for being full of cum. (Laughing) The few old photos still around are bittersweet.

Almost as depressing is remembering my early teenage years living at home. When I mentioned I grew up in the middle of nowhere, it was accurate to a certain degree. There was a small town my parents moved us to when I was still in grade school. It was an attempt to placate my mother's desire to be back to where the rest of her family happened to be. My grandfather's family had worked the land outside of town for generations before the highway system was built and then helped to build it when the time came. It was corn fields and little country stores for miles around. That's just how boring life is there.

I laugh about it now after having been at invite only after parties in L.A., but when the younger you is stuck in the boonies and not much to do, you'd jump at the chance to hit the regional flea market, right? A bad influence I thought was a friend and later turned out to be a jealous douche, offered to take me with him and I wasn't about to turn it down.

Even as much of an ass as he would turn out to be later, his car at that point in time was priceless, and he had the keys to escape the monotony. Off we went to seek high adventure. Our destination could have been better then what it happened to be. The flea market is one of those places that is sort of hard to describe to someone that didn't know the joy of forced attendance every Saturday morning for years growing up. Imagine if you will a handful of large warehouse sized buildings that house the fairway of a carnival for a food court and the vendors hawking wares are a weird mix of Let's Make A Deal and American Pickers. On any given trip you could snag some counterfeit shoes, DVDs, and maybe that rear differential for a International tractor you never knew you really needed. All the while stuffing your face with elephant ears and all the Mt. Dew you could wash it down with. Thinking about it now makes me want to do a thirty minute cardio workout just to make amends to my poor stomach. It's quite a sight to see the herd of people grazing fried foods and bargain hunting.

And in all of that hayseed utopia, I meet her. A quarter native American, long brown hair, a cute face, and a body as enchanting as the smile on her lips that said 'I will eat you alive!' The first time she walked by we barely made eye contact. But that was all I needed. I told my cocky ass self right then and there if she came back by, she was going to be mine.

Promises to yourself are one thing. Making them happen is an entirely different game, shooter. The only problem, small in nature as it was, was the fact I had only had one serious relationship before and had no real game to win a damsel's heart... none... nothing. Plus, add to it that the guy I was there with saw the whole thing go down and was doing his best attempt to be Bill Parcels ordering me on to glory. Five, ten minutes goes by and no sign of her. Somewhat crestfallen, I went back to looking at nun-chucks, samurai swords, and throwing stars to put out the flames of romance that were crashing and fading all around me.

Wanting to lose the disappointment as quickly as possible I went back to scanning over weapons more likely to give you tetanus then kill anyone.

Some ethereal tap on the shoulder made me turn around. There she was. The gods had decided to give me another shot or they had a sinister sense of humor. Either way I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers! I don't know why, I don't know how or where it came from, but a pickup line I heard somewhere popped into my mind, and all I could think was, 'Fire in the hole!' When you're that age, stupid ideas are quick to go up into mushroom clouds of failure... or become legendary. That day, for one shining moment, I was immortalized.

Forcing the hand of Fate, I caught the look on her face as she runway walked right by me. I had one chance to make this vixen talk to me and what I went with still makes me smile with pride. As I watched that sweet sway of her hips pass me by, I opened my mouth to deliver the divine inspiration that I received from who knows where.

"Damnnn, that's gotta be Jello, 'cause jam don't wiggle!" Yes, I had an Indian princess in front of me, and that's the shot I called. No shame, no apologies, not even a sheepish look for the asinine thing I just said to this beautiful, mystical creature in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my buddy looking at me like Knick's fans would look at Reggie Miller in the final minute of a playoff game, in total horror.

But you know what? It worked. How, I don't know to this day, but it did.

I should have treasured that day more while I had the ability to build off my strange success. And while I'm pretty open with most things, the majority of her memories, I'll keep to myself. I can already hear the complaints, "why bring her up then?!" Because it brings us full circle to the question of kinks and how they form.

And in my defense, I said most, not all. There is one eye popping experience with her though that explains some things about me. We were both eighteen and going to graduate that year. Neither of us could afford a car at that point so we hitched a ride to see each other whenever we could. One night I got a call from Dawn saying to get ready, her and her mom were coming to get me. Little did I know at the time that I was about to find out what losing your soul to a woman felt like at the end of this still very young night.

Much like moon doesn't care she is alone in the night, that girl was an unapologetic lover in every sense of the word. If you got inside her intimate feelings, you got her entire being. By the same token, if you lost her love, there was no way to ever recover it. All or nothing. While I enjoyed what I had while I had it, looking back now I can appreciate her so much more then I did then. The mistakes we make and the scars we carry.

It wasn't all bad, not by a far cry. She was also fearless in making love or giving and receiving pleasure. I was so completely out of her league it was almost criminal. So, about forty-five minutes later my ride shows up. It was a glorious sight. There she was riding shotgun in her perpetually sour faced mother's extend cab, black S-10 and said sour faced mother driving. The blaring hair metal from I think, Cinderella, didn't hurt either. I didn't know it then, but I was about to become a man in that truck. One with issues that would haunt me for the rest of my life, but a man none the less. (Laughing)

With feelings of anticipation and sparse parental acceptance we took off. It was a bit of a drive to her townhome she shared with her mom. I was riding shotgun now and she had her legs behind my seat and leaning into the front in between the seats. About ten to fifteen minutes into the ride, she tells her mom she's going to give me a heckie on my stomach and I saw the look in her eye as she told that cover story, bald faced lie, and it told me whatever she was planning, it was something I would never forget. Ever...

My god... after she covered her head with a jacket, she did start to kiss my stomach, but that was like foreplay to what she truly had in mind. With the music on and her mother driving, I suddenly realized Dawn was headed south when I felt the slow but steady rhythm of my zipper being lowered. She very expertly freed my manhood from his earthly cage and very coyly began to lick the tip almost like she was enjoying a fresh piece of candy.

Meanwhile, I tried my damndest not to show any change whatsoever on my face or in my attitude. Death was sitting next to me if it found out what she was doing and a goddess of life was about to open a whole a new world for me under that sweatshirt. She knew what she was doing, but she wasn't cruel about it. The moment she took me in her mouth I almost let out a moan from the bottom of my being. The soft, warm heat and slight movements up and down were both agonizing and satisfying on a level I never could have of imagined existing at the same time.

I don't know whether to attribute it to her skill, the thrill of the act, or the level of danger we were in, but when I climaxed into the back of her throat it was like no other orgasm I had before or since that night. She almost gleefully swallowed every last drop she was able to massage out of my quickly fading erection. Without missing a beat, she put my now very relaxed package back into my pants and zipped me up as stealthily as she did the in the opposite direction.

Much like a big game hunter bagging a trophy buck, she came out from underneath the jacket, winking at me with that cat-that-just-ate-the-canary smile of hers that I miss sometimes even now. She showed me what being daring in sex was like. She forced me to control myself even during fellatio, and it showed me that the reward could very well be worth the trouble.

After replaying what just happened a few times in my head, my heartbeat finally returned to normal shortly before we got to her place. She led me upstairs to her room, hand in hand, and it was almost a repeat of the ride over except I was making love to her while her mother was cleaning the downstairs. Great White's 'Once Bitten' playing in the cassette deck of the radio. It was a harbinger of things to come and I was otherwise preoccupied to notice... or to care.

Having sex with anyone else in the vicinity has always been uncomfortable to me for some reason. And If that mother of hers was so engrossed in her cleaning that she was obvious or didn't know after an hour of the headboard hitting the wall of Dawn's room what was going on between us, then I guess we were lucky or she just didn't care. Either way, I made sure to thank that mischievous girl the best I could for what she taught me in that truck. I look back now and know that she was my first real love. Things got stupid because I didn't understand what exactly I had with her. And like I said before, when you lose her she's gone forever.

Even when you know things are over with someone, it's hard not to wonder how they turned out after you. I tried to see what she was up to a few years back. She made a guy very lucky when she married him and even gave him a daughter. I wonder if that life would have been for me at that point and I know it wouldn't have worked. I needed to grow more, mature more, and none of that would really even start until a tour van rolled over one snowy night killing a true friend and vocal god.

Being older I can look back now with a clear head and understand where I went off the tracks. My kinks are mine... uniquely. They are a part of me now. It's not the wanting of a female or even thinking I might be able to have a shot with whomever I want, but that my lust can burn me and is still something I have to work on every day. Believe it or not, it does come back around to Jade and that day I first saw her.

In a random way that felt eerily familiar, I got something or someone in front of me that felt too comfortable. She had that shit eating smile I had seen before and that attitude of not suffering fools that must have reminded me of someone else. All I know is that right then, and even after thinking of how slim my chances might really be, I knew I wouldn't stop chasing after her unless she told me to fuck off or that she loved me.

Some guys just don't learn and some are gluttons for punishment. Okay, I am that guy. But the gods don't always make things easy, and after all the tragedy was the first play to be preformed. The chase for Jade wasn't going to be simple. But then, didn't I learn that delayed gratification can potentially blow one's mind?

** Author's note - Thank you for reading all four chapters. Or even just this one, lol. I hope the quality has risen in the last two releases for your enjoyment. The feedback from friends has helped tremendously. If I have made any simple mistakes, please forgive me. Everything is done on my phone and I have fat thumps!

Thank you again

50 Shades of ♓