He Was So Right.
Story Codes: MF, Exhibitionist


He Was So Right.
By Serious Jones


He wasn’t quite what I was expecting.  I stood in line at the tauqeria, at first paying
him no mind.  However, I noticed he had on shirt marketing my favorite magazine.  
I was slightly intrigued, but there were much more interesting characters to
observe and analyze. My focus was easily shifted.  My sister and I were having a
silent conversation with our eyes about another guy and his obese girlfriend; they
were very young and seemingly mismatched.  When finished placing our rather
large order I turned and saw him sitting at the table behind me inhaling his burrito
as though he hadn’t eaten all day, which possibly could have been the case. Our
order was going to take a few more minutes. We strolled over to the market to
purchase drinks to go with our meal.  When we returned he was gone and so was
the young mismatched couple. We gathered our food up and went to get into the
car.  As we approached the car I noticed that he hadn’t actually left.  He was now
standing outside of the tauqeria, watching us.  As soon as my sister opened her
car door he made his move.

“You got a lot of food, is there enough for me too?” We glanced at each other,
smirking at his advance, knowing that he was hitting on us.

“We have a lot of people to feed.”  My sister took the initiative to respond. “My
name is Kasey; this is my sister, Kandy.”

“I like your name.” He was looking at me. I was surprisingly flattered. Men often
liked my name, but he seemed to be more sincere.

“I like your shirt.” I responded honestly. He was juiced at the compliment and
crossed from my sister’s side of the car to mine.

“What are you about to do?” He openly looked me up and down.  I felt his heat.

Feeling a little overwhelmed by his forward behavior, I began to back away from
his conversation. “Going to have dinner with our family.” I said accentuating the
word “family” trying to stave off any more come-ons.

He was unscathed.  “Can I give you my number?”  I looked at my sister who was
willing me with her eye contact to accept his digits.  I gave in and let him type his
number into my phone.  He then promptly called his own phone from mine,
allowing himself the privilege of my number without ever actually asking for it.

A half hour later as I was sitting down to eat with my sister and brother in law, my
phone rang.  It was him.  I was pretty sure.

“Hello?”  My heart was pounding and I was feeling breathless. It had been such a
long time since I had participated in this seductive dating ritual.  I was nervous, to
say the least. My breath was getting short and my stomach was filling with
butterflies. He complimented me for being open to give him my number.  I
reminded him that he actually got my number without my permission.  I could see
my sister and brother-in-law watching me intensely.  I decided to end the
conversation and call him later.  He apologized for calling me so quickly.  I was
excited to talk with him again.

After leaving my sister’s house and starting the drive home, I decided to give him
a call back.  Our conversation was light and friendly, talking about ourselves and
the things we liked.  I questioned him about the shirt he was wearing and told him
how that was my favorite magazine.  But somewhere during the drive home the
conversation turned erotic.

“I’m a freak.” He informed me.  Uh-oh, I thought.

“I don’t know if I can let you come over.”  I was being honest, he thought it was
funny.

“Why not?”  He was still chuckling.

“Because now I don’t know if you will be able to keep your hands to yourself.”

“You shouldn’t think that.  I will keep my hands to myself.”  He realized I was being
serious.

“I haven’t dated anybody in two years.” Again I was being honest and he thought I
was being funny.

“What does that mean?”  He asked me, fascinated.

“What do you think it means?” I played with him a little.  “It means I haven’t been
intimate in two years.”

“You’re full of shit.” He laughed loudly.  I was slightly offended.

“No, I am not.”  He seemed to think my attempt to defend my honor was even
more hilarious.

“Well then let me come see you right now.”  Now, it was my turn to laugh.

“I don’t think so.  Remember, you’re a freak.  I don’t feel so comfortable about
letting you come over. But, I just got home so I’m going to have to call you back.”
And with that I got off the phone.  I could practically hear his chin hit the floor
when I abruptly hung up.

I knew that once I settled in for the night.  I would call him back.  And when I was
lying comfortable amongst my down pillows, cozy under my comforter, I did just
that.

He was very easy to talk to, he allowed me to satisfy my natural curiosity and
penchant to ask too many questions.  When I apologized for asking so many
questions, he told me that he just wanted me to feel comfortable with whom he
was.  Suddenly his phone cut off mid-sentence and when I called him back, it went
straight to voicemail; dead phone.  Shortly after I had a restricted ID calling me.  I
answered quickly and it was him, telling me his phone was dead and we agreed it
was late and that we would talk again.

All day long I was wondering when he would call me.  We had talked for almost
four hours.  I was waiting anxiously to hear from him.  I held out all day long.  The
fact that I get such poor reception at work helped me to control my urge to call
him.  Finally, at the end of my work day, I gave in and I called him.

“What took you so long to call me?”  I felt a tingle when he spoke.

“I was at work all day, why didn’t you call me?”  I knew I wanted him.

“I was waiting for you to call. What are you doing?  Can I come see you?”  The
temperature in my body was rising with his every spoken desire to see me.

“Maybe, later?” It was all I could get out of my mouth without stumbling over my
words.

I paced my bedroom and living room, waiting for him to call. I had realized
yesterday during our conversation that he lived practically down the street.  But I
hadn’t revealed that to him yet. Finally, the phone rang.

He immediately implored me to let him come over.  My house was a mess and my
hair needed a washing.  I told him that he could come over and I would meet him
outside.  When I revealed to him where I lived, he was shocked at the close
proximity of our residences.

I rushed to get ready, putting on a tight booty hugging pair of jeans, a baby tee
and a hot pink zip up hoodie; I waited like a little puppy at the window for him to
arrive.  When I saw his car coming around the corner, I walked out to the street.  
When he got out of his car he was wearing a camouflage shirt and baggy pants,
my favorite look. He moved in promptly to kiss me and I backed away from him, a
little appalled.  I didn’t want to come across as a prude, but I wasn’t sure how I
was feeling him now that we were here again in person.  I was relieved when he
backed off and kept the conversation moving.  Suddenly there were squad cars
pulling up on the street, responding to a call down the block.  I decided to let him
into my apartment, there was too much commotion outside.  We sat down on the
couch and started watching TV.  He moved in to kiss me again and this time I let
him make contact.  It felt so good to kiss him, to feel his tongue with mine, to feel
him caress my neck and rub my hair, but then in one swift move he had my legs
spread and was trying to take my pants off!

“I just want to taste it.” He insisted.

“No!” I pushed him off me.  Then he started to undo his own pants.  I pushed him
away again. “No!”

“Why not?” He was slightly amused at my rejections.

I told him that it was time for him to go home and that he should call me again.  It
was a Saturday night when he came over and that Monday my parents came in to
town.  I spoke with him briefly a few times but I was so busy spending time with the
folks that I really hadn’t been able to call him or accept his calls.  The next
weekend I asked him if I could go see him.  My parents were still in town, but it
was late evening.  I put on a cute but sexy outfit and drove out to see him.  I was
really looking forward to it.  I had enjoyed kissing him and his conversation was
great. I couldn’t wait to make out.

But when I reached our meeting spot there was no where to go.  We hung out in
his car and talked, smoking blunts.  He didn’t make any attempt to kiss me or
touch me in anyway.  I was getting antsy, I wanted to him to touch me.  I wanted
him to feel me up and slip me the tongue.  Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and
went into to kiss him.  He looked confused by attempt and I was embarrassed.  I
backed off and looked away.  It had been two years since I had done these things
and I was feeling unsure of myself.  When he realized what was going on he
sensed my hesitation to try again and this time took the initiative to make the
move.  Leaning in to kiss me, he reached into my low-cut v-neck and massaged
by breasts and hard nipples.  I felt my crotch get hot and moist.  I got nervous and
drew back.  He asked if we could have sex and I told him no, that I didn’t want my
first time to be in a car.  He asked me if I would put my mouth on his cock and I
agreed to put it in my mouth one time.  Once he took out his manhood and placed
it into my mouth I lifted myself onto my knees in the car seat and swallowed him
whole, bobbing methodically my ass bouncing in the air.  The gagging sensation
stimulated me and I felt little orgasms tingle throughout my body.  I put my hand
on him and stroked his dick.  He became increasingly excited and I didn’t want to
stop sucking him up.  After two years of abstaining it was like unleashing a wild
tiger into the jungle.  I knew that he was the one I was going to let eventually
penetrate my tight pink pussy.

***
“What’s going to happen when we have sex?”  I felt like a virgin all over again.

“It’s going to feel good.”

“What if I want to do it again?”  He seemed to always be amused with my
conversation.

“Then we will do it again.”

“What if I catch feelings?” This was the most important question I had.  I didn’t
want casual sex.  I wanted a meaningful experience.

“Then I’ll catch feelings with you.”  It was the answer I was looking for.  We made a
date to get together after my parents had gone back home.

***

When he arrived I was so anxious that I dry-heaved secretly in the bathroom
multiple times before I finally smoked a little weed to calm my nerves. At first we
watched some TV, I appreciated his relaxed manner.  After awhile he suggested
we move to the bedroom.  I showed him some of my favorite issues from my
favorite magazine that he had been advertising on his shirt on that first day we
met.  After all my stalling techniques were used up, he turned off the bedroom
light and undressed.  I followed his lead, which was exactly what I wanted. He
started kissing me gently eventually kissing me with intense passion.  I got on my
knees and put my mouth on him, making love to him with my mouth.  We went on
like that for awhile until he gripped my elbows, moving me off my knees and telling
me to lie on my back.

I was scared, to say the least.  He spread my legs as I clenched tightly to him.
When he began to penetrate me the sensation was painfully exhilarating. My
pussy was tight and only slightly wet which caused a feeling so titillating that my
emotions began to creep up on me and I felt my eyes burn with tears.  I jumped
from the bed backing away from him.  He followed me, with his dick erect in the
air, turned on by my resistance, until my back was against the wall.  He pushed
me to floor and lifted my thighs into the air, pounding me as deep as he could.  I
was trying to fend him off, my pussy was being beat up, but when I relented and
allowed my body to relax, my pussy would get wet and I would feel myself cum all
over his dick; his excitement reaching climatic proportions when he felt me get
wet.  I knew that if he bent me over I would have to submit to a deep penetration.  
As he pulled out from me he did just that flipping me over and then bending me
over at the waist.  I crawled away from him.  He grabbed me by my foot and
dragged me back to him.  He entered me slowly, acknowledging that I had an
extremely tight fresh pussy that he was making his own.  He slid up in me and didn’
t wait long before he beat away at my two-year abstinence. I moaned “no”, but he
knew I was begging for more.  He gave me more and more. For hours he fucked
me and turned me out and called out my name as he shoved his dick in my
mouth.  Eventually with my legs shaking and my pussy raw, he excused himself to
go home.  It was a weeknight and he worked the next day.  I fell asleep quickly.  I
woke up the next morning to a text alert coming from my cell phone.  When I
flipped my cell phone open it was from him: THAT’S MY PUSSY! he had written.

He was so right.


© 2014  Serious Jones


Serious Jones recieved her B.A. from UC Santa Cruz in Community Studies. Her
research project, "The Block: A Hip Hop Ethnography" which touches on issues of
street culture, the music industry, authentically ethical ethnography and race
relations in a capitalist society received Department Honors and was considered
ground-breaking curriculum. Serious Jones also enjoys writing poetry of all kinds,
socio-political fiction and erotica. She is currently working on raising her three
kids to rise up! Check out her blogs: Serious Fiction and Revolutionize Yo' Block.