All American Boys
Chapter 41: Virgin Pure
Isaac had been discharged that morning, and he had been allowed to go home. He didn't tell me. Not a call, not a text, nothing. He knew I was coming today. And he conveniently didn't tell me he wouldn't be here. I had to ask a nurse.
It stung. It really did.
Running was Isaac Anderson's forte. He ran away from every single one of his life's many problems. And just like how he ran away from admitting that his father was an abusive piece of shit, he ran away from me. Up and disappeared.
I had to sit in my car for a while, just letting the engine run. I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh.
I thought everything was going to be alright. I thought everything was finally going to go back to how it was before. I was complacent.
Pulling out my phone, I called Isaac. I took a deep breath as I waited. I listened to the phone ringing. I was about to give up after five rings, but finally he picked up. I honestly wasn't expecting it. It gave me the little spark of hope that I needed.
"Hey," he said from the other end. "Why'd you call? Is there something going on?"
I swallowed my own saliva. It's just like I thought. He seemed distant, his voice not even showing the slightest hints of concern. It was as if nothing had happened.
"I'm," I began, careful not to let my voice any sign of distress. "I'm at the hospital right now."
It took every fibre in my being to not lash out at him.
"Oh, right," he said. "I-I forgot to tell you. I was discharged this morning. I was about to call you actually."
If there was one thing Isaac was bad at, it was lying. He forgot to tell me, but in the same breath he said he was about to inform me. Right. He had known. He had known all along.
"Right," I said, biting my lip. "That's fine. That's totally fine."
"Yeah," he replied.
There was a tense silence between us.
"Alex, I-"
I hung up before he could even finish his sentence. There was only so much I could take. Sure, I've hurt him before, but this wasn't fair. I was just trying to make things better for the both of us, and this was what I got in return?
That's right Isaac, run away. That's the only thing you're good at. If his dad had a fixation over track and field instead of football, he would've loved him.
I stepped on the gas and drove out of the parking lot. I tried my best to forget about it, but I couldn't. All I could think about was Isaac's green eyes. Driving through town, I finally pulled up on the street.
Seeing the familiar porch just outside my window, I hesitated for a while. But I couldn't hold back anymore. My anger, my jealousy, my mixed feelings, it all just got the better of me.
I'm going to show him. I'm going to show him how much it hurt. I didn't really care anymore.
I loved him, I loved him with all my heart. But he's hurt me.
The past month without him was the most desolate I've ever been. I was trying to set things right, I was hoping for a brand new start, just the two of us. And when he told me yesterday that he wanted to be happy, I wanted the same. And I was happy. It was the happiest I've been in a while.
And in just one selfish, calculated move he snatched that bliss away from me and pushed me back into the darkness of the deepest ravine.
I wanted to love him, I wanted to keep him. But in this moment of anger, pain and confusion, first and foremost I just wanted to hurt him.
And I knew exactly how to do it.
Walking down the front yard, I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. I brought my fist up to the door and pounded on it.
After three hard knocks the door opened, and I just let myself in before anyone could say anything. I shut the door behind us, and our eyes locked in a gaze. The bouquet of lilies and box of blondies in my hands were swiftly taken away and placed on the sideboard. No words were said. No words were needed.
One look was all it took for us to understand. We both knew what we needed to do.
I stepped in closer, closing the gap between us. My heart was thumping in my chest, my cheeks burning.
The tears threatened to spill down my cheeks, but I didn't care. I didn't care anymore.
I leaned in and pressed my lips hard against hers.
Emily did the same, pushing forward with such force, backing me up against the wall. I caught the scent of her floral perfume, a sweet fragrance of roses as my fingers ran through her hair. Her blonde hair were as smooth silk. I've never felt hair so soft to the touch.
I felt her tongue push into my mouth, as I tried to do the same. But she won out in the end, and I let her. She bit my lip, and a soft moan escaped my mouth. A sound I thought I'd never hear. She caught me off guard.
Emily seemed so sure of what she was doing, and I didn't know how to respond. I've always been the one to take charge. I've always been the one to take control.
But with Emily – I just went along with it.
She moved away from my lips, landing wet, frenzied kisses on my cheek, down to my jaw, down to my neck.
Her lip gloss was getting mixed with our sweat, smudging off onto my skin. But I didn't care, and neither did she.
I let another moan escape my lips. This seemed to have excited the girl further as she sucked on my skin hard.
"W-w-wait," I muttered as I tried to push her away. "Cyril's gonna see it."
Emily only narrowed her eyes at me, pointing daggers that I've disrupted her fun.
"There's this thing called make up," she purred as she slowly pushed herself against me. "You dumb fucking bitch."
Before I could react, she sank her teeth into my skin.
"Oh, fuck!"
She bit me again, and again. It was a strange feeling, but I wouldn't say I didn't really enjoy it. It was a fresh change in scenery.
Her fingers daintily unbuttoned my shirt as she moved her lips downward. She kept her teeth away from my skin this time, instead a tracing a line of saliva down from my neck all the way to my collarbone. It tickled. I helped her finish what she began and slipped out of my shirt, throwing it to the floor.
I reached out and grabbed her collar.
"It's my turn," I said.
I was nearly about to rip her blouse, when she managed to push me away.
"You're going to ruin it, you dumb cunt!" she spat.
I couldn't help but smile. All these years of knowing her, I've never known her to be this vulgar. Her frenzied lust really brought out a side to her I never knew existed.
And I enjoyed it.
We made out for a while more, and I tried to be gentle with her. For some reason I just couldn't hurt her. She wasn't Cyril. She wasn't Isaac.
She was my very best friend.
I seemed to be boring her with my kisses, so I just agreed when she finally gestured to the staircase. I was almost sure that we were just going to do it on the floor right in front of the door. But I supposed she was classier than I was. We picked up our tops and headed upstairs.
Emily's room was a blend of light pastel hues. The wallpaper was pale pink. Her drawers were white. The fabric boxes on her shelf alternated between robin blue and violet. But they were all muted shades.
She pushed my bare chest down onto her bed, so I let myself fall onto the mattress. I watched as she closed the door behind me and walked over to her bedside table.
Lube. Strawberry-flavoured lube. Because of course it had to be.
"Oh, I forgot something," she said as she took of her cream pants and tossed them over her vanity stool. "Wait."
She walked over to the wall and took the hanging cross off, putting it inside the bedside drawer. She did the same with her floral crucifix on her neck.
"Not when Jesus is watching," she said, a smirk on her lips as she sat on the edge of her bed, in nothing but her bra and panties.
"So much for saving it for marriage, huh?" I shot back jokingly.
She climbed over me, spreading her slender legs over my torso.
"I am a hypocrite," she said, tilting my chin up with her thumb.
"And so am I," I whispered.
She leaned down for another kiss on my lips. Her lips were soft and sweet.
I've never been with a woman before. I never even felt like I was ever attracted to one. But with Emily. . . It felt unnatural, it felt wrong. But at the same time, it felt so right.
I could feel my erection threatening to burst out of my pants.
"Oh, what's this?" Emily said, as she teasingly brushed her self against me. "Seems like you've gotten quite excited."
"Oh, shut up," I said. "Let's just do it already."
Emily giggled.
She pulled my pants down, together with my underwear. I was all exposed to her, my penis upright, leaking from its tip. I couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed.
Emily reached out with her hand, wrapping her fingers around my length. With her free hand, she drizzled strawberry-flavoured lube all over it, the liquid feeling slippery and cool against my member. She moved her hand up and down, stroking me.
It felt good.
She kept stroking me, while with her other hand reached down and played with my balls gently. Both of her hands were dripping with lube, and the wetness over my scrotum felt pleasurable. I felt her hand squeeze my ass as I watched her lower her head down, her blonde hair falling down as it crowned her pretty face. I closed my eyes as I anticipated what was to come next.
Instead of the sensation of her soft lips wrapping around me, I instead felt a sharp, sudden pain – she had slipped her fingers inside me.
I didn't know how many, it could be one, two, whatever – but it felt like something had forcibly opened me up. It burned.
"What are you-"
She began to move her fingers – fast.
"N-No stop!" I wailed, squirming underneath her. "Get it out! Get it out!"
A smirk crawled up her stained lips as she finally took her self out, but not before plunging herself deeper inside me one last time.
"You look beautiful when you're in pain," she said, as she brought her fingers to her lips, licking them.
I couldn't believe it. But I guess that was how Cyril and Isaac felt when I was inside them.
"Just get on top of me already," I said. "Quit playing around."
"Don't tell me what to do," she replied, as she slid her panties down her slender legs.
As she brought herself down, she rubbed herself against me, our excitement barely containing themselves. We were like this for a while, and she seemed hesitant. The eagerness and lust in her eyes had subsided, replaced with a hint of fear.
I can tell fear when I see it. I could smell it wafting through the air.
"It's my first time, you know?" she said. "We've come this far. . .but I don't know."
"It's going to be alright," I told her, trying to reassure the sweet girl. "It's my first time with a girl, too. So we're both even."
I held her small palm, and our fingers interlocked. I could see that she appreciated it, and a shy smile formed on her lips.
"You mean so much to me," she said.
"I feel the same way towards you," I replied.
She reached out and put her hand on my cheek, caressing me. I kissed her fingers as she traced my lips.
We went slow, with her in control. She let herself down slowly, as she enveloped herself around me. She was smooth and silky.
I wouldn't lie – it felt amazing. Emily herself seemed to have a good time. She rocked herself on me, slowly at first, before picking up speed when she was more comfortable. Our moans filled the room.
I suppose Emily was right to remove the cross in the room and the one around her neck. It was a bit embarrassing to be doing something as filthy as this in the presence of the divine. At least she respected that. The same couldn't be said for Cyril when he straddled me with his crucifix bouncing off his bare, sweaty chest.
I could feel her getting close. She was dripping all over me, and her face was flushed pink. She took off her bra and left her bare chest exposed.
As she straddled me, she reached down and wrapped her fingers around my neck. I just let her. I felt my chest rising up and down as she moved faster. A pressure was building up in my groin. I was getting close.
With a loud moan, she squirted all over me, forming a line all the way from my chest to my abdomen. Hearing her in ecstasy drove me over the edge, and I spilled my seed inside her. We sealed our lovemaking with one final kiss, before she finally pulled me out of her and collapsed beside me.
I held her as she placed a hand on my chest.
"We really should get cleaned up," I said.
I tried to get up, but she grabbed my arm.
"Please stay," she begged. "Just for a while."
I obliged, and lay down beside her. She planted a soft kiss on my shoulder.
"I've had a lot of fun," she said, placing her ear against my chest, her smooth hair brushing against my bare skin. "What about you?"
"Yeah," I replied, cradling her thin frame. "Me too."
"I'm sorry if I hurt you," she said, looking up into my eyes. "I just. . . wanted you so badly."
"I know, darling," I whispered, kissing her forehead. "I know."
She got what she wanted, and so did I.
The satisfaction of knowing that Isaac got what he deserved. I knew I couldn't stay mad at him for long, but what's done was done. It was his fault for running away in the first place.
But in that moment, Emily and I just held each other, feeling safe in each other's arms.
I reached for my phone on the bedside table – I didn't know I had placed it there until I heard it vibrate. Unlocking it, I realised I had a barrage of texts from Isaac. I couldn't even open them. My heart immediately sank.
The poor boy.
What have I done.