Page 5 of Pieces of Us

‘Jesus. Fuck,’ he heaves, petting my hair as he slowly pulls his semi-hard cock from my throat. I don’t feel the best after his explosion, but at least I didn’t gag or vomit. This is the hardest we’ve ever gone, and although it was hot, something feels off.

‘Fuck!’ Linc shouts, backing up and dropping to the ground. ‘You’re bleeding! Did I hurt you? Why are you bleeding? Did you bite my dick? Am I bleeding?’ The panic in his voice is more than alarming as I try to wrap my head around what he’s saying. He is stroking my hair, trying to look at where the source is coming from. ‘Baby, talk to me!’ he says, exasperated. I can’t manage a sentence as I try to focus on where the trickling of blood is coming from. As I try to suck air into my lungs, I feel the rush of blood oozing not only from my nose but also from my mouth. Fuck! My nose is bleeding. Coughing up cum and blood that has turned me off strawberry milkshakes for life, my instincts kick in, and I pull the hem of his shirt up to contain the blood.

‘My nose is bleeding,’ I unattractively wheeze out.

‘Shit. Let me get you some tissues and clean up. Sit down, baby, I’ll get you an ice pack. Don’t move,’ he protectively orders, setting me comfortably on a pillow.

Well, fuck me for trying something sexy for once. Why does God hate me so much that shit like this happens? I was in the moment. I was enjoying sucking my boyfriend’s dick. Why couldn’t it just end with me showing him my empty mouth?

After twenty minutes of continuous bleeding, my light head eases. Dried blood is crusted in my nostrils, preventing me from breathing properly out of my nose, and I can feel it cracking all over my mouth and chin. Linc wipes his bloody dick and discards the used tissues.

‘Here, have some water, baby.’ He hands me a bottle, which I sip from. The metallic taste is still prominent. Pulling a Wet One from the container, he starts to wipe my face. I’m so embarrassed, I can’t even look him in the eyes, instead choosing to tilt my head down. ‘Hart, don’t do that. This shit happens.’ He has the audacity to laugh at me.

‘Go away,’ I pout, pushing him away when he tries to hug me.

‘Baby, it’s totally fine. Still the best BJ ever.’ He tries again to pacify me by pulling me into him. Although I’m more of a tree trunk than a twig, Linc’s frame engulfs me.

Mumbling, I bury my head in my hands in disbelief. ‘I can’t believe I bled all over your dick.’

‘Well, your nose is technically broken.’

‘Yeah, because you kicked a football at it when we were eleven!’ The hide of him, to be all reasonable right now.

‘You know that was an accident.’ He laughs again, smirking at my freak out.

‘Well, thank fuck I’m old enough now to have the operation.’ You can’t have cosmetic surgery until your nose is fully grown—sixteen years old for girls, seventeen for boys. For the last five years, I’ve had torrential nose bleeds almost weekly. Anything and everything sets it off, from the heat or being sick, to allergies, crying or stress.

Basking in the silence and solace of his traipsing fingers across my skin, I began to shed the humiliation of the past half hour. If this was to happen with anyone other than him, I might as well just enrol myself into home school with the non-stop ridicule I’d receive. Linc is everything you could want in a boyfriend.

‘Baby?’ His voice cuts the deafness of the room.

‘Hm?’ I’m exhausted and sleepy, fading fast.

‘A little blood doesn’t scare me, you know. The thought of you being unwell or being hurt does.’

I don’t reply, instead opting to nuzzle into his body and kiss him softly on his chest. He’s perfect.

Chapter 5

From the Inside

Lincoln, 17—September, Year 11

‘Do you think you’ll have sex with him?’ Lily whispers as loud as a foghorn, so just about everyone in our group can hear. Amity shoots her a what-is-wrong-with-you death stare, her luscious cheekbones pinking. They’re defined, but she has these cute squirrel cheeks that I love to pinch when I kiss her.

It’s lunchtime. As usual, our group sits on the grassy hill, the girls clustered together on one side and a bunch of us guys on the other. While I’d love to cuddle Amity in my arms, she’s not huge on public displays of affection, and she rarely sits with us, opting to tutor some younger students at lunch. I wouldn’t say she fits in entirely with my group, but she belongs to me, and she’s Lily’s best friend—even if they are opposites in every way. I can’t get a read on the rest of the girls. I think they like Amity. They’ve never said otherwise, so I assume they’re cool with her dipping in and out.

‘How about I get you a megaphone, so you can shout it to the whole school?’ Amity scolds, throwing her half-eaten cheese and bacon roll at her friend. I smirk at her, my eyes raking up and down her lustful body. She is giving dirty schoolgirl vibes, in her knee-high socks and pinafore uniform that barely contains her growing bust. She complains she’s frumpy, that it makes her look like Miss Trunchbull from Matilda, but she’s crazy. I wish she’d hem it up a little shorter, like the rest of the girls seem to, but I know she’s got her hang-ups about the stretch marks on her thighs.

‘Girl, you’re crazy,’ Billie tosses her hair wistfully. I know it shouldn’t matter, but man, does it make me feel like a king when other girls say stuff like that. Billie is sweet and attractive, and if Amity wasn’t in the picture, I’d probably consider hooking up with her…again. It was one time. Right before I kissed Amity. We got carried away, and I lost my virginity to her. I never told Hart, and I begged Billie not to, either. I know it was unfair to both girls, but I couldn’t risk losing my chance with Amity.

‘Guys, this is way too personal,’ Amity mutters, picking at blades of grass, breaking my shame spiral.

‘But it feels so good!’ Lily squeals, making the girls giggle and the rest of the guys hoot and holler.

It doesn’t bother me that Amity and I are haven’t reach last base yet, but I can’t say that the thought doesn’t make me fuck my hand every chance I get. I’d preferably like to explode inside her warm pussy soon, but I’ll never push her.

‘You can just starfish it, Amity. You won’t even have to do any of the work,’ my mate, Joel, hollers from beside me. It is more than a low blow to dig at Amity’s lack of athleticism, and it makes me immediately defensive.

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