97: Down Time

on November 14, 2007 in 04: The Body Politick

In Which The B-Word Is Uttered

There wasn’t as much to tell about the actual act, now that I sort of knew what I was doing and sort of enjoyed it. Ian wanted me to get completely undressed this time, but I figured stripped to my panties was still way more than enough exposed skin.

Anyway, with my underwear on, it seemed a lot less likely that he’d try to get his hands–or anything else–anywhere that I didn’t want them.

On the subject of his hands?

There was a lot more touching this time, before we got down to it.

You don’t really realize how much breast you really have until somebody else starts to squeeze them. I can’t say he was particularly sensual or sophisticated about it, but there was something exciting about how excited it made him.

All things considered, I think I would have liked his hands on my ass better, but there didn’t really seem to be an opportune moment for guiding him in that direction. We weren’t dancing, after all.

Also, still no kiss. I wouldn’t have expected one after, but when we were fooling around before… it kind of felt like it would have… fit. I guess I may have to accept that I’m just not that kind of girl.

He did put his mouth on one of my breasts, but I don’t know if I’d call what he did kissing or mouthing. It was… enthusiastic, whatever it was. I thought I was going to laugh, both because he was so into it and because it kind of tickled, but that seemed like a fairly inappropriate thought. So, I tried to look away and more or less ignore it… but as soon as I wasn’t focusing on what was actually going on–a boy essentially trying his damnedest to fit half of my chest into his mouth–something sort of kicked in inside me, even before he found my nipple. After… after…

Is everything sexual basically ridiculous when you look at it head-on and amazing when you stop trying to think about it at all?

On the subject of ridiculous, Ian was once more really interested in me licking his balls. I’m not pretending to be any kind of expert, but that can’t be normal, right? As far as I could tell, the balls would just sort of hang there during actual sex… I mean, obviously, they provide some sort of driving force to the whole thing, but I couldn’t see how that would translate to any kind of pleasure from handling them.

I indulged him a bit, all the same. Well, more than a bit… but I drew the line at taking them into my mouth.

That’s just flat out weird.

Actually, once again, as soon as I stopped thinking “Oh, he wants me to lick his balls, what the hell’s wrong with him?” and let myself get into it a little bit, it was kind of fun. I knew the taste and texture now, and could focus more on how he responded, and I could then vary my own response accordingly. Like I said, kind of fun.

Of course, it helped me just a little bit when it hit me that, if it was disgusting and gross and perverted and wrong for a guy to want his balls licked, how much lower did a girl have to be to actually do it? I wondered if Steff ever licked Viktor’s sack, or if she’d ever had hers licked… probably not, I decided. It seemed like it had to be a fairly rare compulsion. Even a total virgin outcast like me couldn’t avoid the sexual references in high school: “sucking dick”, yeah… “eating pussy”, yeah… “licking balls”… not so much.

Steff’s balls. That was still a weird thought. Did she have hair on hers, like Ian did? Or were they smooth? I don’t know if it was the elven blood or the fact that she was a girl, but I couldn’t picture a hairy Steff.

Lost in thoughts like those, I ended up spending a lot more time and attention on Ian’s dangly bits than I’d meant to, and by the time I got to the act itself, the head of his dick was already… I’ll say trickling. There was a hair’s breadth of time where I could have decided to be put off by that, but I got over it. It was nothing new, right?

Despite seeming primed and ready to go, it felt like it took longer this time, but I didn’t mind. Ian still thrust and strained against the back of my mouth like he thought there was some way he could fit inside it. Well, I guess he was just enthusiastic. I tried to take it as a compliment, and not to gag.

I swallowed again. I still didn’t see what the big deal with that was. It took a couple tries, maybe because I’d been trying so hard not to gag, but swallowing it still didn’t seem any grosser than the fact that it had been in my mouth to begin with.

I kept his dick in my mouth, gently sucking on the meat a bit below the head, for a bit after he’d finished. The last residue of the stuff almost seemed a bit sweeter, or maybe it was my imagination, or maybe I was getting used to it. Whatever. It was a sweet feeling, though, having my lips wrapped around that warm, thick bit of flesh, feeling it relax… feeling Ian relax, and hearing him moan softly.

“Are you going to be able to… um… it’s going to take you a while to get back up again, isn’t it?” I asked, when we’d well and truly finished. Once again, I leaned back and sat on the floor while he sat above me.

It was a surprisingly comfortable position. Well, not physically… I was sitting on the cold, hard floor, with my legs folded beneath me. Maybe comforting would be a better word. He could look down at my almost-naked body, and I could look up at his face, or across at the dick that had so recently been inside me, the balls I’d spent so long lavishing bizarre affections on.

I was in my place. He was in his. It felt safe. It felt right.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ian said, breathlessly. “You really did a number on me… and I kind of gave myself a hand after I finished my classes, if you know what I mean.” I did, unfortunately. “So, yeah, I’d say it’s probably down for the count. Why? You didn’t want to go again, did you?”

“No!” I said. “I mean… if you wanted to, and were ready, then I’d want to… but… I just meant, you’re going to be meeting Amaranth in a bit, and… well…”

“You don’t want me popping wood in front of your naked girlfriend?” he asked.

“Nude owner,” I said, scowling.

“I’m really not comfortable with that whole ‘owner’ thing yet,” Ian said. “Is there any reason I can’t just call her your girlfriend?”

“Just that she isn’t,” I said.

“Okay, I know you think of her in different terms,” Ian said. “But isn’t ‘girlfriend’ also accurate?”

“No,” I said.

“Why not?” he pressed. “Isn’t she your girlfriend, too?”

“No,” I repeated.

“Why not?” he asked again.

“Because if I have a girlfriend, I can’t have a boyfriend,” I said, not thinking, not even hesitating before the big b-word. I was in my safe space.

“What, is that a rule?” Ian asked.

“I know some people have multiple partners, but I don’t think they have more than one boyfriend or girlfriend,” I said. “It’s just the way things are done.”

Ian laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“Mackenzie, don’t you think most people who give a shit about ‘the way things are done’ are going to be too busy being hung up on the whole slave/owner thing…”

“I am not her slave!” I said.

“Toy!” he corrected himself. “Whatever. The point stands. If you’re going to start caring what everybody else thinks, you should probably stop having sex with another woman in the first place.”

“We don’t actually have sex,” I said. “We just… do sexual things.”

“You mean, like you and I just did?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not even as far as that.”

“You’re kidding,” Ian said.

“No, I’m not,” I said. “I love Amaranth… I honestly think I’m in love with her… but there’s just not a lot of things I’m willing to do with another girl. I, um… finger-fucked her once,” I said, blushing furiously. That was a two-word phrase I had never really expected to use. “But, I wasn’t really thinking about it… I didn’t know what I was doing. I don’t know if I would do it again.”

“Why not?” Ian asked. “Didn’t like it?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I did. Like I said, I wasn’t thinking about it… anyway, I can’t explain why or how I can be attracted to somebody I don’t want to have sex with, or how I can be in love with her or any of it. You don’t have to understand it. I don’t understand it. It’s just one more weird thing in my life.”

“Of course it’s weird,” Ian said. “What about you isn’t?”

The words penetrated in a way that “bitch” and “slut” and “cunt” couldn’t. I slouched backwards, stung.

“Mackenzie!” Ian said. “I didn’t mean it like that. Look… you may be difficult, irritable, unpredictable, hypocritical…”

“I am not hypocritical,” I said.

“…and sometimes you can be a real bit… of a hassle,” he said. I started to say something but he held up a hand to stop me. “And I know you want me to call you a bitch and a slut and stuff, but that’s one of those things that’s just too weird for me at the moment.”

“You didn’t have any problem calling me a bitch before you knew I liked it,” I said.

“Well, I shouldn’t have,” Ian said, and I thought he sounded very petulant. Not as petulant as I did, but still. “The point is I like you.”

“But you think I’m weird,” I said.

“If you weren’t weird, you wouldn’t be you,” he said. “I wouldn’t go changing things about you if I could.”

“Do you mean that?” I asked.

“I do,” Ian said. “And even if I would, there’s a lot of things that would be higher up on the list than ‘weird’.”

“Thanks,” I said sourly, getting to my feet and rounding up my clothes.

“Well, I mean, it would be nice if we could have a conversation without you snapping at me,” Ian said.

“I do not always snap at you,” I snapped… which didn’t make him right, because one time is not always.

He laughed. I think I was starting to figure boys out: getting their dicks sucked somehow put them in a good mood. I glared at him, and he looked abashed… and then laughed some more. I gave a little chuckle myself. He was right, I had to admit to myself. I was still blowing up all over the place. I still hadn’t received any punishment for doing that earlier, either… adding the scene I’d made in the hall to the ledger, and it was clear I had a lot to answer for, the next time I was alone with Amaranth.

Although, maybe it was possible to get a head start.

“You know, you could always… slap me… or something… when I do that,” I suggested, a little hesitantly.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t.”

“You could spank me,” I said.

He took a little bit longer to make up his mind about that one.

“I get the appeal of the image,” he said. “Pretty girl, bare bottom… but… I’m just not into that. I’m just not built that way.”

I sighed. I supposed it wasn’t a bad thing that he didn’t want to hit a girl.

“Sorry,” he said, a little sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Well, we should probably see how dinner’s coming, anyway.”

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One Response to “97: Down Time”

  1. Mugasofer says:

    Behold, I come from the future! The redundant link is broken.

    Current score: 0