Chapter 12
I’d been lying there for about twenty minutes in that dump, legs spread wide, waiting for a miracle. Was it good? Sort of. But something was missing. It didn’t have that grip, that force, that desperate need to make me cum. It just stayed… nice. And that wore me out. My pussy was starting to go numb, and I knew it wasn’t gonna happen.
“Matheus, can we stop?”
He stopped moving right away, his dick still hard, and gave me that look like “what the fuck?”
“Fuck, is it bad? Why can’t you cum?”
The answer was right on the tip of my tongue: “Because there’s no real man here for that.” But I held back. I didn’t want to humiliate the poor guy; it wasn’t his fault. Sure, I wanted to cum buckets, but not with him.
“I don’t know, man… I think I froze up. Got nervous. Can we just stop, please?”
He huffed, rolled his eyes. Of course he’d blame me; it was always the woman’s fault. But honestly, it wasn’t even his fault either. Some guys just aren’t born for the job.
I sat up, embarrassed, and that’s when I discovered an uncomfortable truth: taking off clothes is always easier than putting them back on. Everything scattered around the room, me trying to dress in a hurry while I felt his eyes glued to me. It bugged me. Felt weird. The guy was still hard as a rock, wanting more, and I was turning him down. I knew I had to get out of there before my stepdad or his brother showed up.
Finally, after getting everything straight, I said goodbye with a long, hot kiss. He didn’t deserve to go home with just his hand.
“Can we pick this up another time?” he asked, hopeful.
I smiled.
“Sure!”
I squeezed his dick over his pants and headed out.
On the bus ride home, I started doing my mental accounting. Less than ten days ago, I was a total innocent who’d never done anything in her life. And now? I’d kissed a woman, sucked two pussies, two cocks. From pure maiden to a full-on slut.
But then… what kind of slut was still a virgin and had never cum?
The question hammered in my head, like my soul was trying to figure out what the hell was going on with me. Some astrological alignment? An identity crisis? Who knows.
I pulled up my horoscope on my phone, looking for some cosmic explanation. Nothing but “take care of your health” and “avoid excesses.” I laughed to myself on the bus.
“Getting knocked up or knocked up now would be a total mindfuck!” I thought, biting my lips to hold back the laugh.
Definitely, the universe was messing with me, or my menstrual cycle was out of whack. Lately, when it came to sex, I’d been all over the place.
Sitting there on the bus, I still felt a pulsing heat between my legs. Even after cleaning up, I was still wet, a light, insistent tingle. When I squeezed my thighs and gave a little rub, an electric current shot straight to my nipples, giving me chills. And to make it worse, a totally delicious guy decided to stand right in front of me.
The jerk was showing off, had to be. The bus was almost empty, plenty of seats free, and there he was, balancing on the pole, forcing me to look at him.
Skinny but buff, older than me, way older. You could tell he wasn’t the type who usually took the bus. Tight t-shirt, chain around his neck, and some shorts that seemed made to torture me. The bulge there was blatant, indecent. I could see the outline clear as day, even tell which way he tucked his cock.
And I was looking. Staring without being able to stop.
That’s when he caught me.
My body froze on the spot. But pretending to be casual, I kept staring off into space, like I was just lost in thought. I think I played it off okay… I think.
Or maybe not, because when I mustered the courage to look again, there he was: smiling at me.
My stomach flipped, my heart raced. I got nervous. Smiled back, that awkward “good afternoon” smile, not wanting to give too much away.
The problem was, I wanted to.
“Hey, everything good? Can you tell me where to get off for Geraldo’s shop? I left my car there and I’m heading to pick it up.”
“I asked you about my fucking car, you asshole?” I thought, rolling my eyes inside. I always hated people who showed off, especially over dumb shit. Guys love throwing a car into the conversation thinking it’ll open doors; it’d work better if he just adjusted that package in front of me!
“I’m getting off there too, just get off with me,” I replied curtly, not giving much opening.
I’d seen my share of bus creeps from afar. Red flag waving, but… those shorts said he might make up for it; and he was cute! I laughed to myself, bit my lips, playing it cool.
“What’s your name?” he pressed.
“Julia…”
“So, Julia, can I get your number?”
“We’re getting off at this stop.” I stood up, ignoring the question.
Sure, I wanted to ride him, but I had to play hard to get, act all coy. The game had to be played right. He followed without arguing, and we got off the bus together. I stayed quiet. I was close to home, and the neighbors loved to snoop. Everyone watched me there. Had to be careful.
“It’s that way.” I pointed toward the shop and turned my back, already walking off.
“You forgot to give me your number!” he called after me.
I rolled my eyes but stopped.
“Why do you want my number?”
“I don’t know, so we can chat, get to know each other, that’s it. Worst case, if you don’t like it, just block me.”
The bastard was not only hot and yummy, but he had game. That smooth way of talking caught me off guard, broke me down. I realized I was smiling.
Shit.
I dropped the act and rattled off my number to him.
Now it was just a matter of waiting for him to call.
Damn… I forgot to ask his name.