Page 13 of My First Time Fling

Pre-cum leaked from my slit, and I smoothed it around the warm, firm tip of my cock, letting it increase the stimulation I was feeling. My hand gripped the head, hot and wet. God, I wished it were Jesse’s mouth. I wanted to see him, naked, taking all of me. I wanted him to touch himself while he sucked me off. I wanted to see how hard I could make him in return.

Fuck, I was closer to the edge than I thought. I could feel an orgasm building deep inside of me, and I increased my tempo, bucking my hips up into my hand, imagining Jesse there in bed with me, next to me, waiting for me to release. Waiting for me to fill his mouth.

How was it possible to want someone so badly when you’d just met them? How was it possible to wanta guythis badly when you’d only ever considered women before? I didn’t have any answers. All I knew was that I wanted to show Jesse how much he turned me on. Wanted to tell him every depraved thought that was playing in my mind right now, wanted to show him how weak he made me. I wanted his skin against mine.

I came, hot and slick, into my hand, and pumped up and down my length, squeezing out every drop. I rode out the waves of my orgasm, shuddering on the bed, picturing Jesse taking everything I had to give him. Christ, I wanted that.

As my breathing finally slowed back down, I realized I’d worked up a sweat as I’d touched myself. So much for my shower. I was as drenched as if I’d just come in from my run.

My chest heaved as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I’d jerked myself off, thinking about a Jesse. Thinking about a man.

Did that mean I was gay? Or bi? Was it just a one-time thing? And was it just Jesse I was attracted to, or guys in general?

How the hell could I only be realizing this about myself now? And how was I supposed to figure this out, without making things more complicated? I couldn’t just wander around Savannah trying to picture every man I saw naked and waiting to see if my dick got hard.

I laughed, low and exhausted. I was a mess. Everything else in my life was fucked up. In a weird way, it made sense that my sex life would suddenly go haywire too.

The thing was, it wasn’t Jesse, or even the idea of liking guys, that was throwing me. It was unexpected, and possibly something I should talk about with the therapist I’d started seeing. But in and of itself, it didn’t bother me.

It was the lack of control that made me nervous, that sent my senses skittering and made my breath come in short and fast. I didn’t like things I couldn’t control. Didn’t handle situations well when I couldn’t predict what was coming. I was trying to get my feet back under me, trying to learn how to be a regular human again. I didn’t have room for a sexual orientation crisis on top of everything else.

Besides, Jesse was my only friend in town. I wasn’t going to put our friendship at risk just because I’d had some weird thoughts about him sucking me off. The guy had just gone through a breakup, anyway. Now was not the time to be messing with his head—or my own.

If I mentioned this to my therapist, I was sure she’d want to talk about it. Explore it, sit with it, discuss what it made me feel. And that was the last thing I wanted.

I just had to box this up. I had too much going on, and so did Jesse. It wasn’t fair for either of our lives to get messed up just because I hadn’t gotten laid in a while, and my brain was too tired to remember the difference between women and men anymore.

So I’d box it up.

I would.

As soon as I could get his eyes out of my mind.

5

Jesse

“Come on Jess, home stretch, you got this. The eyes of the world are on you, willing you to hold your lead, to keep it going for one last, glorious mile. Don’t let them beat you! Don’t let them take this away from you!”

Mark was running three feet ahead of me, backwards, so that he could turn around and face me as we climbed the hill. We were on the last mile of an eight-mile run and he’d apparently decided that my usual wheezing, grumbling style wasn’t going to cut it this time.

“They can have the win,” I said, gasping for air. It was seriouslysohot out. How did he have the energy for this? “Whoever they are. Really, they can take it. I’m fine just—”

“Don’t say it,” Mark interrupted. “Don’t even think it. Only positive thoughts when running. Negative thoughts are poison. You’ve got this. This is your race.”

“Where exactly is this hypothetical race even taking place?” I asked, marvelling at his ability not to trip and fall as he jogged backwards.

We were on the same route as last week, but this time I’d let Mark talk me into following the running path all the way up to the top of the hill. He’d reminded me, before we started, that the hill, ‘isn’t really all that big, it just looms large in your imagination.’ He’d been lying.

What had I been thinking?

I glanced at Mark and couldn’t help but notice how his white T-shirt, slightly sweaty and clinging to his chest, outlined every muscle he had. I could even see his nipples. And if I let my eyes trail downwards, to the washboard abs that peaked out of his shirt when he twisted, or even lower...

I tore my eyes away before he could notice where my gaze had been. I probablyhadn’tbeen thinking when I’d agreed to this run. I’d probably just been ogling him like I always did, and trying not to be too obvious about it. Or maybe I’d been thinking about his beautiful green eyes, or the way he said my name. No one else called me Jess, but coming from Mark, I liked it.

“Where do you want your race to be?” he asked, bringing my attention back to the present. “The Olympics? Representing the good old U.S. of A.?”

“And wear those tiny running shorts with a flag on the butt? No thank you. I don’t think anybody needs to see that much of me.”

---