On New Year’s Eve I’d decided on the following resolutions:
- Maintain weight loss
- Write for one hour (or at least one page) every day
- Pitch and write at least two freelance articles
- Meet man I will love, make happy, and eventually marry (and vice versa)
- Continue good work on the gym-going and money-saving front
Number four was the big one, obviously. Shortly after Dean and I had broken up back in July, I’d decided it was time for me to settle down, and I thought that officially committing to meeting someone — and believing I could commit to meet someone as I’d committed to losing 15 pounds — ought to work. But this plan to meet someone else was currently stalled, since I was spending valuable dating time making out with my ex boyfriend.
“Um, I don’t know if you want to hear this,” Ashley had said a few weeks back, when I’d told her about my impending Christmas visit with Dean and his family. “But I don’t think things are really finished between you two.”
I smiled sheepishly. But in fact I was pleased: If we weren’t finished, then there was more to come.
But January had turned my head around: Dean didn’t want to get back together; for that matter, neither did I. I wanted to get married, and Dean had made it clear he didn’t, at least not to me. And I saw that the more I hung around with him, sitting in restaurants with our knees pressed together under the table and splitting a bottle of wine, the less time I would have to meet an employed, non-pothead adult male who might want to fuck me silly and have kids.
So one night early in the New Year I told Dean this: “Look,” I gulped my wine. “I’m going to have to cut you loose,” I said, after he had once again mentioned the possibility of us returning to Mohonk for a romantic President’s Day weekend.
He raised his eyebrows; I touched his arm. “Dean,” I began. “I couldn’t love you more,” I said at last. True. “It’s not that. It’s just that I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to spend time together. I want to find someone, and the time I spend with you is time that I really should be looking for someone else.”
He didn’t even blink: “I totally understand,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “I want you to be happy, you know.”
I mean, he didn’t even have any regrets!
This was all very informative for me, since, as I later told Ashley, I’d sort of been hoping he’d say, “Oh, Lily, I don’t want to give you up, let me think about this…” Since July, I thought we’d both been responsible adults who’d been forging a new friendship. Instead apparently I’d hoped I had an ace up my sleeve. And why? I didn’t want to marry someone with Dean’s sense of entitlement and disinclination to grow up, did I?
Anyway, the point is, I went back onto the personals site on which I’d met Dean, and reactivated my profile. So had he, I discovered—and he’d managed to shave nine years off his age! Now he was younger than I!
“That’s appalling!” Ashley exploded when I told her of this development the following day at work. “I mean, that’s just gross. What kind of a Peter Pan thing does this Dean have going on, anyway?”
In Laurie Colwin’s A Big Storm Knocked it Over, the main character’s best friend, Edie, has a really unpleasant family. Sometimes, the heroine, Jane Louise, will insult them on Edie’s behalf. And Edie says, “Thank you for hating my family for me.”
I said now, “Thank you for hating my ex for me.” Then I went back to work, my righteous indignation providing a little warming flame in the arctic wasteland of my romantic prospects.
So the next night, while I was glad to see Jed, I was still smarting a bit. But I feel casual sex is generally good for taking one’s mind off of serious romantic problems.
When Jed arrived, I couldn’t help feeling better—it’s a real pleasure to see someone as enthusiastic and as interested in the world as he is. “You look great,” he said, which I always like to hear. “It’s good to see you again.” Jed’s compliments always make me feel a little bashful, even if they’re as innocuous as these—there’s just such an energetic sincerity there, it’s very flattering.
“You, too.” Jed settled himself in a chair and pulled it across from me, sitting on my bed. He hooked his legs around mine and smiled at me. “You cut your hair!” I said at last.
He grinned, and ran his hands through his short ’do. What had been blond curls was now shorn close to his head, a blondish brown. “I tried to dread my hair, but it didn’t work,” he explained.
“I like it!”
He looked more grown up with short hair. We sat there, our legs linked, smiling. I was glad to see him—he made Dean seem far away. We were both quiet for a minute. Then Jed said, “I’ve forgotten: Do you like being dominated?”
“You’ve forgotten?” I’m afraid I smirked. “Yeah, I like it.” He smiled at me, and leaned forward.
He pushed me gently back against my mattress. I stared up and him, waiting. “Take that off,” he said, pointing to my sweater. I obeyed. I felt … smug, satisfied, like he was doing what I wanted when he told me what to do.
He lay on top of me and I could feel his erection through his jeans (more smugness on my part). Jed started to undress, and when he had dragged off his jeans and was just in his underwear, he leaned over me to kiss my belly, my thighs. I was thinking that this was sort of an unusual move on his part—in fact he’s never gone down on me (though I’ve never asked, either) and mostly we sort of devour one another’s mouths before I just impale myself on his cock. I was thinking that when he slipped a finger across my clit. I was (satisfyingly) wet. Then he sat up on his knees and thrust his dick at me: “Suck my cock.”
I sighed with pleasure and stroked my mouth along his silky skin. “Suck that cock, Lily,” he said again. I think I got a little wetter just hearing my name. “Good girl.” At that I felt the walls of my pussy start to clench in excitement, and I slipped my mouth around as much of him as I could manage and sucked it long and slow. “You’re such a slut!” Jed sounded pleased. I smiled into his thighs.
“I’m going to ram my cock into you,” he went on thoughtfully. I thrust my whole upper body forward, licking the underside of his dick with a staccato rhythm. I was wet and almost frantic. I wanted Jed to leave my apartment thinking, “Oh my God, Lily gives the best blow jobs ever!” When he shifted slightly I got onto all fours in front of him, wagging my tits as I sucked him. “Oh, God, Lily!” Jed said again. “Get a condom.” I obeyed (again, smugly).
“You like that? You like that?” he muttered as he drove his cock into me. He’s such a good fit, big but not too thick (like Big Jake). Jed’s dick seemed to push me open in all the right ways.
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
“You like fucking me?” Jed pushed my hands to the side of my head and held my wrists. I groaned a little. We stayed like that for a while. My eyes never left his face, while the rest of our bodies jerked and twisted across my bed. “You want to get on top?” I nodded.
I levered myself against him, stretched my legs out, and then I pushed myself against his cock, the tight thick tension bubbling inside me. “You’re my cum dump,” Jed whispered. “Just a little hole for me to use. How do you like your little body being used by me? Do you like being used by me?”
“Uh, I do!”
“I’m just going to pump my cum into you,” Jed went on. “You want me to come all over you?”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Come all over my face!” I don’t think anyone’s ever done that, come to think of it. But I would like it if Jed did. I rocked back and forth, so close to orgasm. My legs were shaking and I was sweating. But it was draining, this pleasure, and I didn’t know if I could sustain the muscle spasms that are both necessary and a sort of internal signal for me to come. “I wish I could have you in my mouth and my pussy at the same time.”
“I bet you’d like to fuck two guys at once.”
“Yeah. I could suck one guy while you fucked me.” The idea made me shake violently: I saw myself on all fours, blindly sucking a stranger’s cock while Jed rammed himself inside me. “Yeah,” Jed went on. “Two guys using you as a cum dump. I’ll call up one of my friends and say, ‘Come on, let’s fuck Lily.’” That’s when I came really hard.
“Anytime you want a threesome, just let me know,” Jed offered after I’d recovered my breath. I squirmed a little, a little aftereffect of orgasm.
After a glass of water I slid down to nuzzle his dick. I stroked my fingers, then my tongue, across his balls. At last I slid my index finger back and gave his ass a tentative poke. Jed shifted to give me more access; I knew this was his favorite. Soon I had worked two fingers up his ass and Jed was breathing heavily: “Oh, Lily.”
“Do you want me to fuck your ass?”
In reply he took out a thick, red-orange dildo. Jesus, it was big! “Pass me the lube,” he said. (Jed always brings his own Babelube when he visits. I ought to invest in some myself. I probably have it to thank for the pain-free and generally incredibly hot sex we have. After all, nobody else has fucked my ass. Anyway.) I doused the dildo in lube. It really looked too big to fit into Jed’s hole, though I assumed this was the equipment I’d fucked him with before.
“OK,” I said, “You direct me.” I was afraid I’d shove it in too fast.
“Just push it in slowly.” I pushed and met a solid wall of resistance. “Up,” he said, so I adjusted the dildo. I was able to push it in a bit. “More lube,” Jed croaked. He splashed lube all over it and lay back down, lifting his ass up for me.
“Look at you,” I murmured. “Just look at that ass.” It was getting wider.
After a few more stalled starts the dildo slid in and, at Jed’s command, I pulled it all the way out, slowly. Now I could see his asshole stretched wide open—this puckered hole. Christ. Then I pushed it back in, and started pumping it back and forth.
“Oh God, that feels good!”
I smirked. “You like that? You like being fucked?” I was using almost the same words he’d said to me. I was on my haunches on an old beach towel, ramming an enormous dildo up Jed’s ass. “God, look at you,” I was a little wet.
“Yeah, I like having you fuck me,” Jed said breathlessly. “That’s really good.” He tugged at his cock. “Ah….” And then: “I’m going to come.”
“You’re going to come for me?” I squeezed the walls of my pussy, watching him struggle. “I want you to come.”
“Oh, Lily,” he cried, and came, splashing his stomach with come. I smiled at him, and then I did something I rarely do. I bent over and licked a drop, while Jed watched me under lazy lids. It tasted sort of sweet, actually.