Toss

"No."

"But there was always me; I was always there for you then and, wonders of wonders, I'm here now. Interesting, ah? Fate maybe. Have you ever thought of that?"

"Fate didn't pull us together again, a phone call from my mother did ... and your desperation."

She settle back into the seat, I could sense a smile on her lips. "I'm feeling better about this, Pint. I need you, yah but you need me about as much — your life isn't all that sustainable either, is it? Who lives alone on an island? You're fucked, aren't you? Even you must see that? No people in your life, no friends, no social skills, obviously none of those — you can't cook, you can look after yourself but not really, not and allow in anything meaningful, anything interesting, anything exciting. You're a tight ass, Pint, a hard-working, humourless tight-ass, I'm feeling better about myself all the time. Maybe that's why we were such great friends back then: you needed a warm touch-less body, I needed discipline, direction and prickishness."

"I gather you had a lot of that." It was mean but I was feeling mean.

"I did, a lot of thrusting, squirting prickish-ness, enough for a lifetime."

"Spare me."

"Now I'm getting all the asshole-ness I need."

I shut her out for the rest of the drive, helped her with the bags then went straight to my room and hung-out there for the rest of the day, sulking, until she called me for supper.

I was steaming when I showed up. "That's the last time I'm going to do that!" I exploded in the kitchen. "This is my house. If I want to sulk I'll sulk in the living room if I want to and you'll have to go to your bedroom." My words hung in the air until I realized how childish they were and got a little embarrassed. "This is crap," I flicked at the food.

"There wasn't any food in the house ... your house ... we should go ... oh, wait!" She sneered and put her finger to her lips dramatically. "Weren't we already at a food store today?"

"We'll go after you announce your plan; I'll want to know if I'm shopping for one or two."

She sat down, put her elbows on the table and held her jaw in her hands. "When you don't have a whole lot of options it doesn't take a whole lot of time to work through your choices. Near as I can figure I have precisely two: I can go and get a McJob, for which, alas, I won't be over-qualified, or I can go back to school and become a nurse, something, in my life before you wrecked it, I always wanted ... given my obvious nurturing instincts. Trouble is that costs and I don't have the bread."

"And if you did? Would you go?"

"I worshipped you, you know. I really did. It was dumb but I did, I admit that. But it wasn't exactly easy, I had to work at it ... you weren't exactly the worshiping type."

"Would you go?"

"If I let you pay for it, it wouldn't mean I'll forget what you did to me. You can't just buy me off."

"Will you go? Can you get in?"

"I can get in. The next semester starts in a month."

"So?"

She hadn't changed her position. Her chin still rested in her hands like she was bored. "Could you just dump me out? Do you think you could do that? I don't."

"But I couldn't sit around and watch you waste your life, either."

"Why don't you have any girl friends, Pint? If I was to stay her I'd want that to be a part of it. I'd want to have that with you."

I didn't mean to blush but I couldn't stop it. Mercifully, she pretended she hadn't noticed.

"I'm not going to be able to live here very long without that. I've lived here long enough already. As for making cracks about guys I've slept with, I don't care, go ahead and make them. If you were looking after me like you should have been there would never have been any other guys ... so fuck you."

"Fuck you!" I shouted back, annoyed. "It was never my job to look after you."

"Bullshit." The cords in her neck stood out like cobra hoods. "It was always your job; you always looked after me; you made me into your dependent."

The thought was so absurd it stopped me in my tracks. "Do you really believe that?"

"I absolutely believe that. I'm your responsibility, I didn't create that, you did, maybe you didn't mean to but you did. I was a lot younger than you, impressionable, needy and I've never had anyone but you."

I sat back and stared into her black, smouldering eyes. I've never won an argument with her — ever. Whenever I got close, she'd just deflect into the absurd and I'd always get flustered and lose my balance ... like now.

She hadn't moved, her eyes were still black, still defiant, still menacing. "OK, if you're my responsibility you're going to nursing school, you're going to do well, you're going to do at least your part of all the work around here and you're going to do the bulk of the shopping and cooking. And you're going to look after yourself, get healthy and behave yourself."

"And?" The lasers eyes never weakened.

"And what?"

"Sex. I'm not going to live here with you and not have sex."

"I'm not a very sexual ... animal."

"I am."

"You can't bring men here, I won't allow that."

She stuck out her hand. "I become a nurse, you become a sexual animal ... with feelings and heart and compassion. Deal."

"I'm not going to shake on that. I'm offering you ..."

"... no more than I deserve. I was a kid when you started to mould me. OK, I was too young for sex then — most of the time, but I'm sure not now. And, I'm good at it." The laser eyes were gone now replaced by the sparkling gleam I remembered from her youth ... with all its impish mischievousness. "We're back, Pint, shake on it." When I didn't, she reached across the table and grabbed my wrist, jerked me forward and as I lost my balance she took my hand and shook it wildly.

Irrepressible, that's what she was — irrepressible was the one word to describe the side-kick of my youth. She was never down, never predictable, never apologetic; always insistent, always infectious, always competitive. Back then I always felt better when I was around her; she was like a drug, a stimulant that would dissolve my natural reserve — make me bold, even assertive. I never moulded her and she knew it. Any moulding that came from our relationship was to me. She made me happy, confident, better. I had never given a moment's thought to what I did for her ... or to her.

We had both ignored the uneatable mush. She unapologetically removed the plates and scrape the compost into the garbage.

We had had it out; it was over; the ship was righted; we could sail anew — from the precise place where we left off 10 years ago.

So what was I feeling? Not joy, not relief, I was feeling what I felt then: a burden. She was right, I was responsible for her, I had always been responsible for her, it was one of the reasons I was so happy to leave town 10 years ago.

But she was a kid back then, hard nosed and impressionable. What is she now? Well, for one, she is a woman and if I had a hard time managing a kid, this was going to be impossible.

When we finished cleaning up she asked me if I'd like to see what she bought. Sure, I said, not the least bit interested but thinking it might matter to her. She told me to go into the living room, she'd be in in a minute. And she was, but not with the bags but in an 'outfit,' then in another and in another and in another ... all really nice I guess, and each one tight and showing increasingly more cleavage.

When her last outfit arrived I hid my relief and just uttered another banality, but no words came when she announced the 'last but not least,' and quickly stripped off her clothes and stood there in the middle of the rug with her eye imploring me to look at her in her brand new underwear.

"TOSS!" I sat gobsmacked at her audacity.

"I didn't buy much of this. Just a couple of bras and some panties. I thought you might like to get me things you like, things you want me to wear."

"Put some clothes on for God's sake. Come on."

"I wanted you there when I grew into my body, Pint. It was exciting. I was proud of it. I felt alive, excited. I took pictures to send you ... but I was really pissed off at you so I never sent them." She was grinning like a child seeking approval. "Not bad, thought, eh? I little skinny but better than mum's."

I don't think I've ever felt more uncomfortable. I wanted to look away but her eyes wouldn't let me. She is skinny, a bit bowlegged — I always teased her about that, and she has narrow hips and big breasts. She isn't pretty but as she stood there boldly in front of me I knew she thought she was and I knew in that moment, there in my living room, she was offering her body to me. "Come on, Toss. Put some clothes on."

Her grin banished her sadness, her combativeness banished the misery that dominated her aura. She was lit up like she used to be, with excitement and mischievousness. "I've always wanted you to see me ... you never once tried to look down my shirt when I was developing, I gave you every chance to do it but you never did. And you never had a hard-on ... all those years when we were playing I looked for one ... never saw it ... not once ... always figured you had problem with girls — I tried everything to turn you on ... short of, you know, touching you ... would never want me to do that, would I?" She snickered. "Nothing worked. What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on."

"No, eh?" She was still grinning, she was enjoying every moment of this. I shrank back as she came up to me and recoiled in near horror when she dropped to her knees and even before I understood what she was going to do, she was doing it: undoing my belt. I pushed her hands away but she slapped my hands, hard. "I'm going to do this, Pint, I'm not going to live here with you and not have sex with you. That's just nuts."

I could have pushed her away, I was going to but there would be a fight — when she had her mind made up there was no stopping her. And there was something else going on, something intoxicating about the moment: when I didn't fight her off, I surrendered to her — she had always bossed me around ... she had always owned me, but she had never possessed me. But when her fingers went to my belt I was powerless ... I felt her old dominance and I felt for the first time ever, desire.

The belt and button and zipper were undone in seconds. Her face was intense, her black eyes focused. When she pulled back my underwear she grinned and looked up at me. "I always pretended you were circumcised but I never actually believed it, your mother just didn't seem the type to care about this." She bent down and kissed my half-stiff prick then licked it. "It's cute, Pint. Where's it been?"

My throat wouldn't open, I couldn't speak, the feeling of her hot wet mouth on me was overpowering. "Huh?"

"Who has it been in? Tell me."

"No."

"How many?" It was growing between her fingers, she was closely inspecting it like a new purchase.

"Three," I don't know why I told her, probably because I felt so vulnerable.

She peeked up at me, interested. "Any good?"

"No." They weren't.

She grinned like it was good news. "I am, I'm really good. I'm going to make you the happiest dude on the planet. Lean back."

I didn't, I leaned forward instead and was about to push her away when she squeezed my cock and twisted it. "I'm going to do this, Pint, so do as I say, lean back."

I did, awkwardly, at an angle, into the corner of the over-stuffed chair. She pulled down my pants and underwear, I protested, weakly, but she ignored me. "When's the last time you had it?"

"What?"

"Sex." She sucked me, a long powerful suck that felt like nothing I'd ever had before.

"Don't do that, Toss." I said that because I thought I should, the last thing I wanted was for the sensation to stop.

She laughed, scornfully. "I've never seen a harder cock." Then she gave me a little bite. "When was the last time you put this in a woman?"

"Three months ago."

"What happened?"

"I was drunk. It was awful."

"I thought you didn't drink much."

"I was nervous ... I got carried away."

She lightly bit me again. "When were the ones before that?"

"Year ago ... more." I knew why I was telling her the truth ... she wouldn't stop asking me these questions until I did.

She sucked me again, a long slow suck that didn't stop when I poked at her throat ... it just continued right down as if she was intent on swallowing me before she sat back. "When's the last time you masturbated?"

I was going to sit up, push her away and get out of there but I knew I wouldn't — I always did what she wanted. "Years ... I don't ... never really have."

She looked shocked. "Why not? I do it all the time, did it all the time when we were kids; I'd even go home early from your place some times to get off, couldn't stand it any more: you always really turned me on, Pint, even after you stopped touching me when I got my breasts and we stopped wrestling." She grinned, "You chicken-shit. But I had my most amazing cums after those times together just imagining you wrestling with me ... touching me."

"Come on, Toss."

"Not as amazing as you're going to get. I'm good at this, Pint. I've had lots of practise — you're going to love having sex with me. But you've got to relax, OK? Just sit there, let me do this ... think sweet thoughts, look at my tits ... they're nice, I really like them. Do you want me to take my bra off?"

"Leave it on." I said this impulsively and too fast. I blushed.

"Why?" My demand surprised her, too.

"I ... I like it — like the way it looks." I could feel the blush burning my face.

"Don't blush, Pint, jeez. You're supposed to tell me what you like, what you want, I shouldn't have to figure it all out by myself." She sat up so I could easily see her. "You like bras? You want to cum on my bra? I've had guys do that before." She leaned in to make it easy.

"Come on, Toss ... jeez ..."

"Give it a try, see if you like it ... we've got all kinds of things I want to try ... let's start with that one."

I was going to protest but she started stroking me and I could immediately feel it coming ... I tried to stop it, I looked away, clenched my bum but it was too late: her soft fingers, her light, knowing touch, her warm grip, she only needed a few strokes before it shot out of me and hit her so hard in the chest that it splashed between her breasts leaving a gooey mess dripping all over her bra ..https://www.halowaypoint.com/en-us/spartan-companies/carolee%20marsh

. it all happened so fast I barely felt the sensation; it came and went in an instant.

She was in awe. "Fuuuuck ... look how much you had in you ... boy, did you need that." She leaned down further and wiped my prick across her cups a few times cleaning it off then she bent down and sucked me long enough to clean me up and make me hard again. "I want it all out of you Pint, every drop of it so that all the stuff in you will be stuff you get thinking about me."

She started stroking me again, slowly and gently, her face pursed in concentration. "So what do you think?" She sat up to give me an easy view of the mess I had created.

"I'm sorry ..."

"Sorry! I'm not, I want you to get off on me, Pint, I love that ... are you kidding? I've been dreaming of doing this stuff to you for years. If you could feel good about cumming on me how cool would that be? It would mean we're close, Pint, we're having fun ... jeez, don't be embarrassed," she swiped a blob of the stuff with her finger and put it in her mouth and smiled. "I'm totally into you, you know — you have to know that. And you have to get totally into me — you should have been shooting cum on the first bra I ever had ... it just makes me so mad that we wasted all those years."

I was stunned at how casual she was about this ... I felt myself being drawn in. The sight of my stuff on her bra and flecking her skin was astonishingly erotic; it made me instantly horny again.

"You only have one dresser in your bedroom ... I looked. We're going to have to get another one, bigger. I'll move in tonight, move my clothes in when we get it." She was gently stroking me, gauging me for a reaction.

"Do you really like that ... me getting sperm on you?" Her bra was greenish-blue but was much darker where the blobs of sperm soaked into the material; there was a lot of it splashed over her cleavage.

She grinned. "You liked it, didn't you?"

The sperm had globbed between her breasts and collected at the frilly edge of her bra. I avoided her question. "Did you?" I asked.

"I love sex, Pint, I absolutely adore it" — that was obvious, she was just so comfortable with it where I was a nervous wreck. "We should be fucking around all the time ... do whatever you want — I don't know who I am yet, not really ... I've had a lot of sex but never with anyone I ever cared about. This is different, this is going to be great ... for both of us ... see where we want to go with it."

"What does that mean, see where we want to go with it?"

"There are all kinds of different types of sex ... we have to find out what we like to do together."

"Like what?" I had no idea what she was thinking — when she used to come out with these innocent-sounding statements it always meant something I never understood.

"I don't know, lots of things."

"Like what?" I insisted.

"Like ... maybe we want to be with another guy sometimes ... things like that."

I bolts forward. "Have sex with a guy! What? Me?"

"Both of us. We would do it together ... it'd be fun."

"Are you nuts?"

"It was just an idea ... I said we have to find out what we like to do together."

"Well, it's not having sex with another guy, trust me."

"You don't know that; you've never had sex with another guy — you might really like it. You have to keep your mind open."

"Have you had sex with another girl?" I knew the minute I asked that she had.

"I have an open mind, Toss, and so should you ... that's the way we'll find out what we like to do together."

"Well I don't need an open mind to know I'm not going to do any of that?"

"Do you want kids?"

"No."

"Neither do I ... so we'll be fucking for the fun of it, so let's have fun with it, that's all I'm saying ... don't make a big deal out of it."

"I'm not."

"You are so ... and you've always had a closed mind ... it's why you're a lawyer ... I'm going to open it up for you."

This was it; this was deja vu all over again; this was exactly the way it used to be. "I've got the closed mind ... I'm a lawyer and I've got the closed mind. You're what? A street person? A couch surfer -- an open-minded nothing?" I tried to take it back the moment I said it but she just waved me off.

"I was those things but I'm not any more ... I'm a student and I'm living in a nice condo with a great guy who doesn't really appreciate me ... and we're going to get married."

"No we're not."

"Don't you trust me?"

"What's that got to do with it."

"You told me what you want me to be, I agreed to it so I'm not moving out, that means we're going to be together and if we're going to be together we should get married — nothing big; a city hall thing, next week — I'll arrange it, maybe you can take a week off work and we can go somewhere ... for the honeymoon. I love you, Pint, I've found you again and you aren't getting away this time — if I have to turn into a stalker you aren't getting away — just so you know."

I laughed at the absurdity of her confidence. "Let me see if I've got this right, OK? It's my house, my food, my income that pays for it all — I'm the one with the future and you're dictating to me?"

"I'll stalk you ... you don't think I will? I'm not letting you go, that's final."

"Ya, well, I'll tell you what's final and that is I'm not going to let you push me around like you did when we were kids ..."

"Push you around ... you were four years older than me; that was a big deal back then — how could I push you around?"

Toss

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