The Good in Goodbye. PArt 1
&'I can&'t believe it&'s come to this, Carmen.&'Len speaks for the both of us as we sit and curse the retreating day, horizon&'s blazing orange slowly giving way to the pinks and purples of a warm night.Because I can&'t believe it either.It wasn&'t supposed to end like this, this friendship we&'ve had. Inseparable since kindergarten. Raids on zombie outposts in the woods, sticks our rifles, rocks our grenades. Road trips with friends singing the Ghostbusters theme at the top of our lungs, bare feet on the dashboard, soda in the cupholders.Len was a Dr. Pepper kind of guy. I was an Orange Crush girl.We were together enough to earn a couple name. CarLen. Wouldn&'t have been so slick if he went by his given Leonard. We were never a couple though. People encouraged it, but usually if they didn&'t know us very well. Len was always my little unrelated brother from another mother.Paradoxically too close to be close.We knew too much. He was subjected to my abject horror when I got my first period, I to a recounting of his cringeworthy first sexual experience (and the rolling debate about whether or not he left his virginity behind). We ribbed and kidded, but we always had each other&'s backs. He never jested about my short cropped hair, because he knew the shit I got about it.Same with my lackluster breasts. I took enough incoming from the big titted pretties. He heard it all, and knew better than to pile on, even in jest. And I don&'t know what I would have done without him when Mom and I had our last fight, after her drunken voice forbade me to return.It&'s the only advice I ever took from her.But now, after all the glory, the lumps and bumps and cheers and tears, a whimper. Goodbye. My job and shitty apartment give me means to stay, but Len is still beholden to his parents for the time being. Parents whose relationship with him would be jeopardized if he crashed with me, a female he isn&'t married to.It isn&'t right. But it isn&'t worth the fight.And I forbid him to fight it. His parents, backward as they are, are well connected. They can pave the way to a good life for him if he plays ball for a while. And their move to Idaho is inexorable. It&'s something that just is, like gravity or taxes. Nobody seriously argues against them, and we can&'t against it.So here we are. On a big blanket at one of our spots, where we&'ve talked for hours about nothing, about everything. Watching the sunset as the sun sets on our life in each other&'s company. There are fewer words now, though.I rest my head on his shoulder. He rests his on mine.Tangerine becomes lavender in the western sky.Len speaks into it without moving anything but his lips. &'I wonder how the fortress is doing.&'God. The fortress. The tiny ramshackle cabin we built in the woods so many years before with lumber we �" ahem �" borrowed from one place and then another. It wasn&'t much, but it had been ours.Before the demands of growing up had drawn us away, that is. There had been a somewhat recent expedition to make repairs, prompted by I know not what. A grasping after the simplicity of youth? Guilt at our neglect of such a sacred space? I think we knew even as we toiled it was a losing effort. But I wouldn&'t mind a last chance for a glimpse of its charm, so I voice my desire:&'Only one way to find out.&'We find the familiar trail and make our way carefully through the dimming woods, the light turning the blue of tobacco smoke. Our mood is somber. There is much to celebrate between us, but we struggle in it. Because there&'s much to mourn as well. Thankfully there&'s still oil in the lantern. We fire it up. Words are lost between us, and we embrace.We can&'t get close enough, and we find our limbs intertwining, tighter and tighter until we&'re sitting knotted up on the fortress floor. His scent is so familiar, so comforting. I turn to him to take another breath of it in and my lips graze his neck. I hear his breath catch at the sensation, and we both freeze in place.I feel his heart drumming. We shift, my right leg between his, and my thigh comes flush with his crotch. I feel him beginning to respond to me.Oh. My. God.It&'s such a&'¦taboo feeling. For fuck&'s sake, it&'s Len. We used to play cops and robbers together in these very woods. But the tightening bulge in his khakis reminds me we&'re adults now, and I cannot will my thigh to move away. I feel my womanhood blossoming and warming at his body&'s desire for mine, and feel myself responding in turn.I shift, stay tight to him. I can&'t look him in the eye right now or I&'d drop dead, but I just have to feel&'¦I slide up and onto his leg, dropping my weight onto him, feel the crest of his defined quad muscle press through my clothes into the fevering lips of my pussy. I can&'t suppress a sigh of satisfaction, and before I know what I&'m doing I&'m moving against him, ever so slightly rolling against him. The girl in me is horrified that I&'m basically humping Len&'s leg but the woman needs this, needs the touch, and it&'s okay if this is all it comes to, this silent acknowledgement of what his touch is doing to me.Len shifts his hands. I fear it&'s to disengage, that I&'ve gone too far, but he stays tight against me and brings his hands to rest, one on the crest of my shoulder and the other on the small of my back. Skin to skin. He holds there for a moment before he moves it slightly, then starts tentatively caressing me.&'Mm,&' I intone, just audibly. I didn&'t mean to moan for him, but the sound just came out. He seems to take it as encouragement, sliding his hand further up into my shirt, and I don&'t know what to do with myself. The feeling of Len&'s hand sliding up my back, so dangerously close to my bra, is overwhelming. My hips are moving more now, I know I shouldn&'t but I can&'t stand not to, and his fingers slip under my bra strap, and my mouth opens in shock against the skin of his neck.I taste Len for the first time, taste the salt of his skin, and it&'s an intoxicant. He inhales through his nose as though to calm himself, and in closing my mouth I realize I&'ve just effectively kissed his neck. I&'m in an awkward position and shift against him, and I feel Len is fully erect for me, and I have trouble believing it, that Len could possibly be turned on by a mousy tomgirl like me, but there is certainly no denying what I&'m feeling.It doesn&'t seem he wants to deny it, because now he moves against me, and I feel the length of his shaft sliding against my leg, and it&'s like he struck a match against me it burns so deeply. Len scrutinizes me. My heart squeezes as though a strongman were balling it in his...Suddenly we&'re kissing.I would have thought there&'d be more buildup to our first kiss after so long, but desperation has set in between us. Len tests for a boundary I&'ve completely removed now, his hands roving over my body until they, with the slightest hesitation, find my breasts. I shiver at his touch, and I&'m overcome with a desire to see him, all of him, and I reach for his belt.The next part happens in a blur. Len starts helping me, and with neither of us wanting to drag out an awkward process of stripping we madly paw at our clothes. I lose my balance trying to get my shorts off and fall into him, and we both tumble to the floor. We paused long enough to chuckle nervously, realize we&'re both in our underwear now. I see him straining against his boxers, give him a look, reach through them and pull him out.Len is thick, thicker than any of my toys at home. A desire washes over me, but I&'m afraid if I hesitate I&'ll talk myself out of it. So as Len sits on the floor, I come perpendicular to him on my knees, lower my head into his lap and take him deeply in my mouth.
Want to stay informed? Subscribe to Arianna Aries's RSS feed.
Limited Time Offer!
Don’t Miss Out!
Last Chance!
