Nothing More

Chapter Three.

My husky build was often the topic of the crowded hallways of my high school. "Lardy Landon," they called me. The childish nickname sounds beyond stupid now, but it bothered the crap out of me when the meatheads would walk behind me, chanting it. Kids can be assholes such assholes. That was only one of the many flames of the hell that was high school. That was nothing compared to what happened with Carter, but I'm not going there tonight.

I'm getting too lost in my own mind now. Back to the weirdness between Dakota and I.

The more I try to remember about our encounter, the more my brain screws with the memories and jumbles them. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. I never could. Even when we were young, she always had secrets. It was appealing then, mysterious and uncomplicated. Now that we're older and she broke up with me with little explanation, it's not so fun.

I stare at the seaweed green shower tiles and think about all of the things that I should have said and done during those five minutes. I stare at the wall, remembering her standing in front of me earlier today. I wish I could have read the pages behind her almond eyes, or found some words hidden beneath her full lips. Those lips.

Dakota's lips are something else. They are just big enough to draw my eyes, a subtle pout that makeup can't create. The rosy color of them always drove me crazy and they feel amazing wrapped around my cock. We were only sixteen when we messed around for the first time. It was our two month anniversary and she just bought me a puppy. I knew my mom wouldn't let me keep it, and she had to know the same, but we tried to hide it in my closet. We would feed the little gray thing the best food from the little pet shop down the street from my house. He didn't bark much, and when he did, I would cough to try to hide the sound. It worked for a while, until he grew too fast for my small bedroom.

After two months of captivity, I had to tell my mom about the dog. She wasn't nearly as upset as I thought she would be. However, she did explain the cost of upkeep of a puppy and when I compared that to my measly check from the car wash that I worked at a few days a week, it didn't add up. Even with the tips added in, I couldn't cover a vet bill.

After some tears, Dakota agreed. To ease the pain, we geeked out and watched all of the Lord Of The Rings movies. We binge drank Starbucks and complained about paying five dollars a cup. We ate twizzlers and peanut butter cups until our stomachs hurt and I drew circles on her cheeks, the way she always liked, until she fell asleep on my lap. I woke up to her mouth warm and her lips tight around my dick.

She learned that she really liked to please me this way, and she started doing it almost every time we hung out. I liked it, of course. Hell, who am I kidding? I loved it and couldn't remember how I ever thought jerking off was an enjoyable way to orgasm. It's not so bad, I suppose. I look down at my cock hanging, the hot water running over it. I wrap one hand around the base, teasing my own tip with my thumb the way she used to with her tongue.

With my eyes closed and the warm water pouring over me, I can nearly convince myself that it's not my own hand stroking myself. In my head, Dakota is on her knees in front of my old bed in Washington. Her hair was lighter than before and her body was tightening from all of her dancing. She looked so good, she always has, but as we grew up, she just kept getting hotter and hotter. Her mouth is moving faster now, between that and the sounds of her moaning over me, I'm nearly there.

My body begins to tingle, from my toes to my spine. Somehow one of my feet slips and I step sideways, losing my footing. A string of words that I don't use often spits from my lips and I grab onto the checker print shower curtain and pull.

Click, clink, click. The damn thing gives in, tearing at each plastic ring. It falls, taking me with it. I yell again and my knee hits the edge of the tiny tub.