A Summer in the Flesh Ch. 06byC.C. Rider©
Charlie had gotten up, and was fumbling around in the refrigerator behind the bar, out of my view. He plopped down on his heels right in front of me, between my legs, and opened his mouth to reveal an ice cube clenched in his teeth.
“You can’t be serious,” I sputtered, laughing.
Charlie took the cube back into his mouth and mumbled.
“She loved it. Don’t ask me. I was just doing as I was told.”
Tom was chortling, causing my head to bounce against his side, so I took the bottle away from between my legs and got up on my elbows. Charlie raised his eyebrows and smiled, daring me. I was intrigued, but didn’t let on
“C’mon, you’re nuts.” I was being disingenuous. I knew this, because just as I said that I drew my knees up with my legs spread as if what I had actually said was, “Okay, here you go.”
Charlie crept down so his chest was on the floor and slithered up to me, putting his face within inches of my partially soothed pussy. I could tell Tom had gotten up from the floor behind me and taken a seat on the couch, and I felt like flipping a casual waive over my shoulder, as if to regally say, “You are dismissed.”
Charlie put his lips up to my flesh, and I squealed and playfully tried to squirm away.
“This is insane,” I said, and just as I said it I felt the sharp, white-hot coldness of the ice cube press into my heat. I didn’t know whether to scream or faint or push him away, so I didn’t do anything except fall back off my elbows and stare wide-eyed at the ceiling with what I am sure was a remarkable look of disbelief on my face.
I couldn’t feel the cube, per se. It felt more like it was Charlie’s mouth that was cold, inhumanly cold, ten times colder than the beer bottle. I tried to squirm away from him, but I didn’t really want to get away from him. Charlie reached around my legs from behind and gripped my thighs, steadying me. He pressed his face into me more firmly. He must have sucked the ice cube back into his mouth, and I relaxed slightly, then I felt it again. He nodded, and the exasperating iciness ran up and down the length of my twitching, nervous twat.
I practically did faint from the shock. I felt momentarily blinded, though my eyes were wide-open. I slapped at the floor with open palms in an effort to fight the instinct to pull away from him. I squirmed and wiggled uncontrollably, and then I started to laugh uncontrollably, like a child being tickled unmercifully. I was sputtering out profanities and invectives amidst my laughter, interspersed with thinly veiled pleas to stop. Something like: “Stop! Oh shit. You fuck. Stop it!”
It was all to no avail. My girlish laughter betrayed me. And then, in one instant of calmness, I heard myself say, “Try a little lower.”
Tom erupted in a hysterical fit of laughter behind me, and his hilarity forced tears to spring from my eyes.
Charlie coughed, I gasped for breath in the moment of relief, and then the iciness stung me again. Lower it went, and I sunk my fingernails deep into the carpet and held my breath. It touched my anus, and the iciness ripped through me like I had plunged into a frozen lake. He held it there, still as he could, and yet the waves of tingling continued their rampage. I kept waiting to get used to the sensation, but after only a few moments I couldn’t take it anymore, and I forcefully pulled away from his grasp and he let me go.
“Holy shit!” I exclaimed involuntarily. I clenched my legs tightly together, and I could feel all the wet coldness against my thighs. The warmth built up slowly, and I waited for it, panting from the laughter, lying fetal and still on my side.
“Pretty wild, eh?” I heard Charlie ask, stressing the “eh” like a Canadian.
Tom was still laughing as he mocked me. “Ha! ‘Oh Jesus! Stop it, asshole! Oh shit! Oh… hey, try a little lower.’ Oh man, that was funny.”
“Fuck you, Tom.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. I was embarrassed. I didn’t know what to do next. “Could someone get me a robe?”
“Just a second.” Charlie left the room, and looking up from the floor I watched his butt cheeks jiggle as he headed out the door.
Tom got up and helped me up, and Charlie returned with his robe and handed it to me. It was cotton, white with blue stripes, and it was way to big for me but I wrapped it around me anyway. I sat down on the couch and watched Charlie put on his shorts and set about changing the tape. Tom had apparently slipped out of the room.
“Her name was Alyssa,” Charlie said as he fell back into the couch at the other end from me and put his hands behind his head.
I tucked my legs up under me and turned sideways to face Charlie, and set about rolling the sleeves of the robe up a little bit.
“She wasn’t pretty, per se, but she had the curliest, thickest black hair, and when she took her glasses off… Well, she looked kinda sexy. Man, she was hairy though.” He seemed to trail off in reminiscence.
“Oh, excuse me.” He looked at me. “Anyway, she was such a prude. She was really nice and all, but she was just terrified of sex. And then one night we got a little hot and heavy, and I um… ate her out a little bit. She tried to stop me, and then it was like… well I don’t know what it was like, but she went ape-shit. She loved it. And from that night on she was totally different. It was like she was constantly in my face.” He laughed and shot me a glance. “Or on my face, should I say. Anyway, she was always arranging to get me alone, and then she’d attack me.” He paused.
“Funny thing is, we never actually did it. Some kind of virgin complex, I suppose. But she would do anything else.”
He paused when Tom entered the room. Tom had put on a tank top and a pair of shorts. He sat down on the window.
“So, how did the ice cube thing come up?” I couldn’t help my curiosity.
“Well, I’m not sure, but I think she took to some serious self-experimentation, if you know what I mean.” Charlie looked at Tom. “Alyssa, my gypsy-girlfriend from high school.”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned her.” Tom seemed disinterested. He leaned back against the side beam of the window and closed his eyes.
“Jesus, it was like she’d stick anything in her – anything ‘cept for me anyway. She’d pull a dildo out of her purse and hand it to me, then start tearing her clothes off.”
“Bullshit.” I was incredulous. I wanted to hear more.
“No shit. Swear to God. It was like she had just discovered she had a pussy, and she couldn’t get over how awesome it was.”
I had to chuckle at this, as in the back of my head a heard a little voice mock me, saying, “Oh, kind of like you just discovering you had an asshole, Andrea.”
“We’d be in her room after school, with her goddamn mother right down stairs cooking dinner or something, and she’d push me down on the bed, yank off her pants, jump right on top of me, and commence to smothering me. Or she’d say, ‘Here, use this,’ and hand me something or other: a dildo, a feather, or these little balls on a string.
“The ice cube thing started one night when her parents were out-of-town. Don’t ask me.” Charlie paused to think. “We only did that a few times, but I remember it drove her wild. And she was amazing. I mean, she’d always come, and when she did, it was like she was going to pass out.”
He looked at me and I gave him a stare that said, Don’t go there. He smiled.
“And she could get there in, like a couple minutes, no time at all. And she was loud. Loud like she was faking it for a movie or something. She had to put a pillow over her face if her folks or her little brother were in the house. Wow!”
Charlie shook his head. “Then get this. Afterwards we would go downstairs, and she would start talking to her mother about her violin lessons, or some stupid shit like that. At first I thought she was trying to be funny, but she was just being herself.”
“Did she change in other ways?”
“What do you mean?”
What did I mean? Come on Charlie. “I mean, did she start screwing around with other guys? Did she start wearing tight jeans and too much make-up? Did you turn this girl into a slut, Charlie?”
“She didn’t change at all. Not like that. She was her class valedictorian. Believe it. She was straight as an arrow, hung around with the good girls. She stayed exactly the way she was. She was kind of frumpy. Of course, I was no great catch either.”
Not if you didn’t count the size of his cock, I thought to myself. Charlie continued.
“If you had tried to tell the other kids what we were up to, they’d have never believed it. No way.”
“Did you guys EVER do it?”
“Never.” Charlie shook his head forlornly. “She was a year ahead of me, and she disappeared to college somewhere in the East, and I never heard from her again.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem fair. I mean, did she ever… reciprocate in any way?”
“Did she ever give you a blow job, Charlie?”
“Oh God yes,” he laughed. “Not at first, but after a while. She must have gone down on me a hundred times. At first, she was real tentative, scared and all, but towards the end, before she left town, she was…” Charlie sighed, “she was really in to it.” Charlie laughed, as if he had just delivered a gross understatement.
I thought to ask “Did she swallow,” but I think I knew the answer from the look on Charlie’s face. Slutty Bitch, I thought (I can’t stand to swallow – not then and not now, and I don’t). Then a curious thought stuck in my head.
“Do you think you were the first guy she’d ever messed around with like that?”
“Absolutely – first and only. She told me so, all the time, like she was apologizing for not knowing what the hell she was doing.”
I started to giggle, and coughed out a laugh.
“What?” Charlie gave me a puppy dog stare, like he thought I was going to make fun of him.
“Oh God, Charlie.” I tried to compose myself. I couldn’t. I bet that poor girl never saw a cock like Charlie’s ever again. I beamed with a smile and looked Charlie in the eye.
“I can guarantee you one thing, Charlie. Wherever she is, your Alyssa is kicking herself in the ass for passing on you, and she’s going to be kicking herself for the rest of her life.” Then tears came to my eyes I was laughing so hard.
Charlie’s expression changed to a gracious smile.
Charlie and I talked for at least another hour. At some point, Tom stood up and announced that he couldn’t keep his eyes open, and then he wasn’t there. Charlie was so engaging I didn’t notice Tom leave. We chatted like intimate, well-acquainted lovers. I told Charlie about my “first time,” and about how overweight and ugly I felt in high school. I even told him about Rick. Charlie shared that he was essentially a “dork” in high school – chess club, yearbook, band. He was self-deprecating, and very smart, and very witty in a cynical-but-funny sort of way.
As we talked, I fond myself growing extremely fond of Charlie. I wanted so desperately to ask him about Amy. An evil part of me wanted to tell him about Amy’s boyfriend, just to see his reaction. Then I realized he probably wouldn't care. I resisted the urge, and Amy remained conspicuously absent from our conversation.
And then we were quiet. It must have been three o’clock in the morning. We sat together in the quiet, and it wasn’t awkward. A mellow jazz tape had been repeating itself over and over again, barely audible in the background. The candles were flickering with the last breath of flame. The air was cool and moist and the world outside was still.
“Annie?” Charlie whispered. “May I kiss you?”
My heart fluttered. After all that we had been through, all the dirty, nasty, filthy animal sex we had shared that day (how had I referred to it? – “ass-slapping, hip-grinding, hot monkey sex?”), I was startled by the sweetness and romantic sincerity in his voice. It was as if we had just met before we had started talking, and now we knew we were going to be friends, maybe even lovers. I felt guilty about the sex, and for that moment I wished it had never happened.
“I’d like that, Charlie.”
He took off his glasses. We both moved to the middle of the couch, awkwardly, like kids at a sock hop trying to be nonchalant but tingling inside with nerves. He put a hand to my cheek first, then our lips met, barely touching. I put a hand on his chest, and he touched my shoulder. We kissed for a long time, lightly, without lust, solely for the sheer pleasantness of the sensation. My robe had fallen open, and he placed his hand on my breast, and rested it there. I pulled away and kissed his forehead. He kissed my neck, my cheek, my ear.
He whispered something in my ear that I could barely hear. I think it was, “I feel very fortunate to be with you tonight.” I wanted to ask him to say it again, but I couldn’t.
He shifted off the couch and put one arm around my back, the other under my legs. He did not surprise me when he lifted me as he stood up. He didn’t seem to exert any effort, and he made me feel light and secure in his arms.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said in a hushed, raspy voice. I giggled.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” I said it rhetorically, with intentional sarcasm, but deep down, I wanted him to say yes.
“Yes. I’d like that.”