that?”
He turned to look at me, puzzled.
“What’s gotten into you?” he said, and I could do nothing but bat my apparently inferior eyes at him.
“Nothing.”
We walked on, and the space between us grew. I reached out and grabbed his hand and held it, and we continued walking like that, although this also felt wrong somehow. I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I had made my promises to him, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have my own …temptations. That I didn’t want him too. Keeping promises wasn’t easy for me either, you know. In fact, it was times like this that I would have given anything to just let go, and hold him as close as I could, both of us sinking into each other… Just because I was a romantic, it didn’t mean that I didn’t crave him. And his body.
I suddenly pulled on his arm and yanked him quickly behind a bush along the path, pulling him to crouch down on the ground with me.
“What are you…?” he started, but I kissed him hard, pinning both his hands down onto the damp ground with mine.
David, trusting, sweet, innocent David kissed back generously. As though I wanted to find something there, I sent a devouring tongue all over him, kissing his cheeks and chin and then pressing my lips hard against his again, delivering a slow, deep kiss. Then we looked at each other.
What if, horror of all horrors, he wasn’t even sexually attracted to me? What if I had denied him so long that he basically thought of me like a sister, or a friend? The thought made me colder than the cold ground we were kneeling down on.
I grabbed his hand, palm wet and studded with small stones, pulled down the waist of my skirt and pressed it between my legs. In this cold, horrible world, where all boys cheat eventually, this seemed like the last warm spot; just having him so close made me instantly wet. He had never touched me there before. All at once, his fingers were at the entrance of my pussy, against that silky wetness pooling there, but he instinctively pulled them away again, staring at me in horror.
He stood up, angrily, not quite knowing what to do with himself.
“What the hell, Violet? What are you doing?”
I was horny. I was sad. I didn’t know what I was doing. I stared down at my knees and the mud on them. “Do you think I’m pretty?” I asked pathetically.
“What? Why do you ask that? Of course I think you’re pretty.”
“But do you think I’m sexy ?” I asked, more pointedly. I mean, obviously at that point, kneeling down in front of him in some muddy grass, on a school night, I wasn’t the sexiest thing you could imagine, but still.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” he said.
I know that I’m a pain in the ass. I know that I’m difficult to understand sometimes, and that I can be bossy, and that I get carried away. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t love him. Without thinking, I reached out to him and began to unbutton his pants, still on my knees and his crotch square to my face.
“David let’s do it. Right now. I’m so sorry. I love you. I want to…”
To my surprise, he was hard, and my hands worked quickly over the cotton of his boxer shorts to release his hot cock and a plume of his familiar scent, a scent that felt like my home, like the only remedy for the growing ache between my legs. I opened my mouth and tenderly took the warm tip between my lips, my tongue tasting the tiny bead of saltiness quivering there. A corresponding bead formed in my own mind: I had done this to him. I had turned him on…
“Violet this is crazy,” he was saying, and before I knew it he pulled away and was furiously zipping himself back up. All at once, that beautiful nakedness, that glorious bulk of his was gone and packed away in his pants again. Mouth hanging open, I stared up at him, hurt. I wanted to cry.
He was dusting the clumps of mud off his knees, trying to find something to say. He looked at me.
“I just don’t understand you,” he