“We’re so proud of you, honey,” her mother’s smile beamed down onto her, “and we know you’re going to continue to make us proud when you go to Princeton in the fall!”
The whole table spilled into applause. She smiled and nodded, but struggled to keep herself from looking down into her own lap. Her relatives stood up and cheered. Someone whistled. Their clapping grew louder. And all she wanted to do was shrink away and hide.
“We love you so much,” her mother continued, “why don’t you stand up and say a few words?”
“Uh, no thanks,” she said, shaking her head and bracing her arms around her chest.
“Come on, honey,” her mother pried, “it’s your big day.”
She felt her mother’s stare move from warm to cold to hateful.
“No, mom,” she said, flatly, “I’d rather not.”
She stared back at her mother, letting her own will manifest through her eyes and her straightened posture.
“Ah-hem,” he said, standing up to break the tension, “I think I can say something.”
Everyone in the family looked over at him, some even wondered who he was and why he was there. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, holding his sweaty beer, searching for something to say.
“Well,” he began, “it’s true: your mother is proud of you. She wouldn’t brag to all of us at the office if she weren’t. And I know she likes to remind you of how hard she works. If she’s anything like my mom, she puts you on a guilt trip and reminds you of how much she sacrifices so you can go to a great school like Princeton.”
He paused for an awkward moment and waited for laughs that never came. He chuckled to himself, trying to collect his next thoughts.
“But,” he started, buying himself some time, “here’s what I’ll say about that, and maybe it’s something she won’t: you’re worth it.”
He saw her look up from the messy picnic table. He saw her eyes for the first time.
“It’s the part that parents don’t like to admit, right?”
Now he got some laughs.
“But it’s true. And in the year that I’ve been working with your mom, and in the year that I’ve gotten to know you, getting to see you become this amazing person is worth all the hours of work any of us could ever put in.”
The family around him clapped their hands. He saw a tiny little smile crack on the edge of her lip. He drank the rest of his beer and sat back down, catching her sharp gaze from across the table.
*
He gathered all the empty bottles and sticky soda cans and spilled them into a big plastic bag. The party was over, and a few family members had stayed behind to clean. He’d only been to this house a few times, and had no idea where anything was.
He gestured to his bag of cans and asked to anyone who would answer, “where do I put the recycling?” He’s not even sure who told him to check in the garage.
He stepped in through a side door and felt up the wall to find a light switch.
“You can’t turn it on from there.”
He heard a click and the light came on. She was standing in the center of the room beneath a glowing lightbulb.
“It’s dumb, I know,” she continued, “you haveta tug the string.” She waved him over to a big blue bin, “just dump that stuff in here.”
“Copy,” he replied, dragging the big, rattling bag to the bin. He hoisted it inside. She closed the lid.
“Did you mean what you said?”
“What?” He was taken off guard.
“About me being worth it.”
“Of course.”
“But you barely know me.”
“I think I-“
“You just know what my mom says, and she lies to make herself look good, or to convince herself that she’s done a good job.”
“Well,” he began, “if I know your mom, she is definitely not a good parent.”
Her eyes relaxed. She didn’t expect him to say that.
“Hell, she’s barely a good boss,” he continued, “but I’m not basing that on what she’s said, I’m basing it on what I see.”
“And what’s that?”
“A brilliant, beautiful girl who got into Princeton but still doesn’t believe she’s good enough because her mom’s a withholding bitch.”
She laughed. A real laugh. Not a hard, heavy, powerful laugh, but one that told him he was right.
He saw her gaze soften, her shoulders relaxed. She stepped closer, her head tilted back. “I’ve thought about you,” she said.
“Oh?” he asked, leaning forward.
“Yeah,” she answered in a throaty voice, “the last two times you were here for one of her stupid mixers.”
“And what did you think about?”
“Um…” she blushed. She looked down at his chest.
He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “You can tell me.”
She grabbed his hand, ran her thumb over his knuckles and veins. “I thought about this…” she began, lifting his hand, “going right here.” She pushed his palm onto her neck.
“Hmmm.” He growled, softly, letting his grip tighten just a little. He felt her whole body stiffen up. “Is that all you thought about?”
She shook her head, no.
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he hummed into her ear.
“I thought about you fucking me.”
“Is that what you want now?”
“Yes.”
“Here?”
“Please.”
He gripped her neck, spun her around, and pushed her over the hood of her mom’s car. He arched over her, kissing her lips, spreading his powerful body over hers. Her hands clawed into his strong back as he kissed her mouth, her neck, her chest.
Her breathing was frantic. Her skin was sticky with the day’s sweat. She smelled like sun block and body spray, like cotton candy and her sour underarms. The odors excited him, unlocked something primal in his desire for her as she raised her arms to let him strip away her class of ’23 T-shirt.
He unbuttoned her shorts. They were rolled high, and he had been staring at her thighs all day. He tugged them off her vulnerable body and found that she wasn’t wearing panties. Her pussy was shaved and smooth, but with stray hairs on her cunt.
“No underwear?” he asked before kissing her tummy and firm breasts.
“I knew you were coming,” she replied.
“You planned this?”
“I hoped for it.”
He licked her skin, handled her body, and then moved his face lower to get between her thighs. She pulled her legs up, knees to her chest, and tried to squirm away.
“No,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because, what if I… it’s been a long day… and some guys…”
“Some guys what?”
“They talk shit about girls who smell.”
“Boys are fucking stupid,” he said, lowering his open mouth to her pussy. He spread her open with his fingers, saw her raw, bright pink, and licked it deep. He sucked her wetness into his mouth, pushed his face into her, demonstrating his lust and hunger.
She moaned and squirmed, her hands clenching into the back of his head. He felt the stiffness in her back, in her thighs.
“Are you okay?” He looked up at her, she looked down.
She shook her head, no, and muttered, “is it okay?”
He licked it again, teasing her needy clit, “it’s perfect. I love it.”
“You promise?”
“I could cum just from the way you smell.”
She smiled. She didn’t want to smile, but she did. He resumed his licking and sucking, and darted his tongue into her hole as she moaned like a slut for him.
He lifted his mouth away, took a step back and unbuckled his belt and let his shorts fall to the ground. He grabbed her hips, stepped forward…
“Wait,” she blurted out, sitting up.
“What?”
“Let me see it.”
He smiled at her, stepped back and thrust his hips forward. She grabbed his hard shaft in both fists, barely wrapping her fingers around it. She saw a pearl of precum glisten on his tip and licked it. Then she put her mouth on his cock and swirled her lips around it. He moaned for her, “such a good girl,” he said as he caressed her head.
She pulled away from his cock, “I always imagined what it looked like,” she said.
“And?”
“It’s better than I thought.”
He pushed her onto her back, kept his face right beside hers and said, “it’s all yours.”
She felt him stab inside, fast, sharp, deep. His thickness stretched her, made her tightness ache. It felt like a rod of steel opening her body up and setting every nerve on fire. Her muscles clenched, her fingers clawed into his shirt, her legs pretzeled around his waist ass he pummeled his dick into her eager little body.
He hit her spot, made his cock drill against it as he slammed into her. He gripped her neck; she latched onto his forearm and stared into his commanding eyes. His other thumb rolled over her clit as he moved his dick inside her tightness.
“You feel so good for me,” he said calmly, watching her flailing body cope with his size and his rhythm. “Are you gonna cum like a good girl?”
“Y-y-yes,” she barely said.
His hand smacked her cheek, sharp but gentle. She gasped as the electricity of his touch coursed through her body, as the invasion of his cock exploded through her nerves. Tears poured from her eyes, a harsh wail pushed from her throat. His loving fingers jammed into her mouth as he made her pussy quiver, clench, and climax for him. He was relentless, pounding into her spot as her orgasm lingered.
He pulled his cock out, thrust himself over her spent and depleted body, and let her grab his shaft with her weakened fists. He was sloppy and dripping and she stroked him fast. His cum squirt onto her face, her chest. Thick, heavy ropes of his seed splattered onto her cheek, her neck, and doused her firm little nipples.
He kissed her mouth, unafraid of his cum, and let his tongue inside. He still wanted to taste her, smell her, consume her. He arched over her, holding her, keeping her, claiming her.
“They’ll be looking for us,” she whispered.
He backed up, handed over her shirt. She put it on over her cum-covered body. He watched his sticky seed soak through the fabric as he dressed in front of her. He kissed her one last time and then went on his way.