Fourth Comings Read Online Free

sensitive gooseflesh around my navel. Unbuttoning, unzipping, and unburdening me of whatever clothing remained.
    And me, surrendering to the last thereafter.
    Middle-of-the-afternoon sex is notable for its complete lack of modesty. The window shades had minimal impact on blocking out the sun, and I was thoroughly and unself-consciously exposed in its light. I stretched my naked body before you, inviting you to do whatever you wanted, which was everything I wanted.
    Your teeth nipping my lower lip. Your fingertip tracing the curve of my hip. Your tongue teasing the tender underside of my breast. Your nose nuzzling my innermost thigh. The Beard tickling nerve endings I couldn’t locate. Cognition was overcome by sensation…. If I was thinking about anything, it was how I wish I wish I wish I could live my whole life within those exquisite moments of dumb pleasure right before I come….
    You murmured softly, not a word exactly, something untranslatable. The sound brought my brain back to my body. And once the corporeal/cognitive connection was restored, there was no way I would return to that blissful, dumbfucked state.
    “Jessica?”
    I knew what you were really asking.
We’re still here…aren’t we?
    No.
    We were not.
I
was not.
    I was elsewhere. And I wanted the erotic interlude to be brought to its end. What’s more, I wanted it to end in a dramatic way, one that could’ve justified my intentions.

four
    I don’t hear the
click-click-click
of the lock.
    Or see the door opening.
    Or Young Natty’s parents getting a clear, Kama Sutra view of you neck-deep in my nether regions.
    “Ohhhhhhhmaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!”
    “Jayyyyyyysuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhsssss!!!!!!!!!!!!”
    I freak
(“OOOOOHHHHHFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!”)
and scramble under the sheets. You calmly remove yourself from my crotch and cover up with a pillow.
    If you recall, when I walked in on my own parents catching lumpy humps on the couch at their condo a few years back, I still had the presence of mind to put aside my gut-churning horror and slam the door shut on the image that would haunt me for the rest of my life. In this dramatic scenario, Young Natty’s parents don’t have the sense to shut the door. No, they gawk and gawk and gawk some more, as if we are the first humans in recorded history to do what we are doing, as if no one before us has ever thought to unite mouth and vagina for the purposes of female pleasure, as if we have, in fact, just put our perverted minds and bodies together to invent the act of cunnilingus. And can you blame them? Because sometimes it
does
feel as if we have invented it and all intimacies. Our bodies surging and retreating in innumerable positions and countless combinations for us and us alone…
    I imagine Dr. and Mrs. still
just standing there,
with no sign of bringing the awkwardness to its desperate end. No, only you can do that.
    “Dr. and Mrs. Addison,” you say in a surprisingly dignified tone considering the only thing separating Young Natty’s parents from your formidable boner is a small foam-filled pillow that, quite frankly, is not up to the task. “Would you mind leaving us alone?”
    I’m awestruck by your ability to collect yourself so quickly. But then I remember how my parents were so shamelessly unflustered when they reopened the door with their clothes on. I take this as a cue that those responsible for the interruptus have more reason to be embarrassed than those engaged in the coitus. Dr. and Mrs. Addison reach a similar conclusion and suddenly get all tangled up in a flurry of apologetic “Pahdons” and “Ahm so sorrys” as they make their (belatedly) hasty retreat from the room.
    Young Natty gets much mileage out of the “On My First Day of College My Parents Busted My Roommate Going to Town on His Girlfriend” story. As a getting-to-know-you gambit on campus, that story is tough to beat. And just when the story starts getting old at Princeton, and he’s told everyone he can