I had just put on the red sports bra that came in the mail. Across the room, the sharp smack of Lynne’s chewing gum bounced off the locker room walls.
“So Liz, did you hear about the sendoff party the chess boys had for Mike?”
“NO, what’d they do, Lynne? Stay up till TEN and watch PBS?” said Elizabeth.
“Yeah totally, you bet!” said Lynne and passed Elizabeth a wide-tooth comb which she used to section Lynne’s fairytale long locks.
“What’s the deal with his friends though? They’re like, pussy-repellent!” Lynne laughed and checked her gums and teeth in the mirror. Those big, square front teeth of hers.
“I think he’s a virgin anyway, Liz. It’s like he doesn’t wanna get laid no matter how many hints he gets. No matter what!”
“Yeah, that’s so awkward. Shaaame, I’d let him hit it,” said Elizabeth. After several seconds of contemplating herself in the mirror, she stopped combing. “Lynne, maybe he’s just gay? I mean he’s kind of pretty. Literally, I’d kill to have those lips AND he’s a natural blond.”
“So you’re gay if you’re blond and fit now? At a Catholic college? That Doherty boy didn’t act very gay with you on the Vineyard, did he?”
“Lynne!!” Elizabeth shouted and grabbed her wet, pink hand towel off the peg. It lashed across Lynne’s lower back with a loud, snap. I winced.
“Ow! Christ!! I don’t judge, girl, I get it! Jeez!” said Lynne and turned to me. She was flushed, catching her breath. She raised a finger at me.
“OK, so Gabi. Gabi. The Vineyard is an….”
“I know what Martha’s Vineyard is, thank you veeeery much! Besides, he’s not pretty, he’s hot!” I shouted back at her. Truthfully, I agreed on both points.
“Aww Gabi girl, you in love? It’s never gonna work, you’ll break him in half!” said Elizabeth. They broke out laughing, dumbass hyenas that they were.
“ELIZABETH, gosh! It’s her genes, it’s not her fault she’s from Belize,” said Lynne.
Really? Really?
“Brazil, Lynne. My mom’s from Brazil. I am from N-E-W Y-O-R-K. That makes me A-M-E…”
“Oh shut up, Gabi. Alright. Brazil, whatever. That’s where your… build is from. It’s genes, and you can’t fix genes.”
“You’re right!! I should have been an Anglo-Irish-Scots-German-French-Dutch hypocritical twig of a puta like you two! You’re just jealous, I actually LOVE my body!”
Lynne rushed towards me but was held back by Elizabeth.
“Oh, SURE! You LOVE your body! Is that why you always shower alone, huh? That’s why you shave your arms? That’s why you never come with us to the beach? By the way, Gabi, do you own any top that doesn’t fit you like a tent? Huh, babygirl, do you? Do you?”
I sat up straight like I’d been caught stealing from the till. The wall was damp, and the backs of my knees were itching.
“Oh, you thought we didn’t notice? Just because we’ve been too polite to bring it up? Girl. Get a grip. Get your shit together, Gabriela,” said Lynne and stormed out.
Elizabeth shook her head and sat down next to me, she took my hand.
“Listen, Gabi, he’s a McCluskey. Forget him.”
“Forget him?? What, do you think I’m after him or someth-“
“Sure, Gabi. Sure. There’s plenty of nice boys who’ll marry you. Just… be realistic about it. Maybe a basketball or football player, someone who’s physical, a wrestler? You know that huge wrestling company in Connecticut? You can transfer and-“
I shot up and slammed the locker behind us.
“A WRESTLER? TRANSFER? Someone who’s physical? I swear, every NIGHT I pray to the Saint of Dumb Illiterate Bitches that she might spare your souls!!”
Elizabeth studied her nail varnish and gave me that flat, barely there smile.
“Okay, Gabriela, okay. I think maybe someone is overreacting. Yikes. I’m just saying, forget Mike McCluskey. Woosh. Forget him. He’s gone. Right now he’s probably considering a nice English girl. He’ll marry her, have five kids by 40 and cheat on her with a 20-year-old schoolteacher. Way of the world, dear.”
“You’re fucked up. He’s not like that, he’s not… you people are fucked up! It doesn’t work that way!” I said and held back the tears as I got out of there.
“Have yourself a good cry now, Gabi!” Elizabeth shouted from the locker room.
I got out of the dorm’s basement and stepped into a lush, still day. A soft breeze caressed the lawns and the chirping of summer birds dotted the soundscape. If only that were enough to quiet the cackles and shrill tirades from down below. I wiped my eyes with my t-shirt, pulled myself together and started running on the Memorial Forest trail.
I ran like hell, I crossed paths with several acquaintances but had no idea who they were, or if we even said hi to each other. I was quick, relentless, unstoppable. It was glorious, nothing hurt, nothing chafed. I made it to the lake by Byron Hall and texted Mãe.
“Thank you, the bra is perfect ❤️”
“ok baby good, and the boy you talked about last night?”
“I haven’t talked to him yet.”
“It is never too late baby, you are clever and fit and Brasileira. boys are crazy for you, mama knows, love you”
I sent her a heart and sat down on a lakefront bench so my thighs ballooned. When I flexed them, my legs were thick and shapeless. She was right, my shirt really fit like a tent. I lay down on my side and gazed aimlessly across the lake.
Mike was really leaving. No, he can’t be leaving. I wasted the entire year. Waiting for what? For what? He’s just a boy. He’s just a boy, right? It doesn’t matter, right? It’s my own fault.
It took me until my junior year to really get to know Mike. But I always thought he was cute, who wouldn’t? He was tall, blond and had a soft, easy-going way about him. The McCluskey name carried some weight with the locals, but you wouldn’t get that from talking to him.
The summer before, I had volunteered at a New Hampshire youth camp. It was run by a Catholic charity, but the event itself was to be secular and open to kids of all cultural and economic backgrounds. In other words, repulsive to all the right people. On the bus, I’d sketched out ghost stories for campfire nights and drawn a monster. It was silent, comfortable, I leaned on the warm windows and nodded off.
The bus driver woke me up, and I stepped out onto the campgrounds. A tall, fair-haired man was up on a ladder with his back to me, painting a welcome sign.
“Mike! What are you doing here?!”
“Gabriela! Same as you, I suppose? I saw the flyer and figured, why not?”
“I assumed you were in Europe, on a boat or something. Or a castle.”
“Oh! No, there’s no boat, but I’m a bit worn out travelling with the family. It’s just the same old, same old, you know. What about you? I thought maybe you’d gone to Porto Alegre to see your mom’s family?”
“What? You remember?” I said, suppressing a giggle.
“Yeah, why would I not? I found it quite interesting when you talked about Rio Grande, you really sold the place, more of a cowboy thing, right?”
“Gauchos, they’re called Gauchos. I must have been drunk to give a lecture on that?”
“Interesting nonetheless, Gabi. Anyhow, I’m really happy there’s a familiar face here. Let’s get to that volunteer meeting, why don’t we?”
“I’m glad too! Yeah, we can go!”
Those three weeks were dreamlike; there never was a hurry for anything. I got used to wearing the whole khaki shorts getup, and I got very used to Mike wearing it. He took all the woodwork and carpentry tasks with no mucking about. And the kids? The other male volunteers would leave it to us girls if one of the kids were sad or hurt or missed their parents. Mike just dealt with it himself. I knew he was a mellow guy, but I didn’t expect him to be this self-assured about things. In our free time, we’d play badminton by the lake or just talk till late. I’d just observe something, and he’d make a whole conversation out of it. After a couple of days, I’d just about forgotten the stringent dormitories and lecture halls. I could sit down here, close my eyes, and feel the earth touch my skin. With Mike next to me.
I mainly held art classes while he taught woodshop, but we also shared some tasks. We set up tents and provisional shacks, re-painted the canoes and even built a stage.
Well, about that stage: my shoulder hurt that day. So sadly, all I could do was sit under a tree and watch Mike carpentering bare-chested in the July heat. Thank God for sunglasses! I took in his body like a sweet, drawn-out dessert. Veins pumped as he hammered away, and his sparse body hairs gleamed golden as he shifted around. Oh, did I mention he had to get on his knees, on his back and even crawled under the stage to check the measurement? Did I MENTION it was warm? That he was glistening with sweat? Watching Mike do things became a favourite pastime at camp.
As a result, sharing a room with three other volunteer girls frustrated me. Privacy was scarce. The walls were thin, my schedule packed, the toilets were disgusting, and there was somebody, no matter where you went.
On the final night at camp, in the dark after the girls had fallen asleep, I lay in my bunk and reached for my legs. I sank my fingers into the underside of my thighs and pulled back. It’s an old solo trick of mine. When I do it, my muscles strain to stay in missionary. Blood rushes all over me and I start to sweat after a couple of minutes. In that state, everything is urgent, real, and dangerous. I’m open, immovable, and my mind and body are all that matters.
And so, I pictured Mike naked in the woods. He was on his knees, masturbating in a desperate trance. Red-eyed with gritted teeth like he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. I bit my blanket. That smooth, lean chest, the faintest traces of hair under his navel, a strong, round ass. He arched back and came all over himself and the forest floor with a bestial cry.
I strained and kept my thighs in check with all the force I could muster, my mouth wide agape but silent. I saw thick, white cum on Mike’s stomach, his dick and legs. I opened up as far as I possibly could, and the strain was blinding, exhilarating. I let go of my legs with my hands, and the blanket with my teeth. It was soaked, I was soaked. I had aching arms, trembling legs, and sore abs. I hadn’t made a sound.
I wanted to come. Hell, I needed to come. But I couldn’t actually masturbate with the other volunteers sleeping in the room. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Three weeks, I hadn’t gotten myself off in three weeks. I grabbed a t-shirt out of my laundry bag and wiped my pussy with it, hugged the pillow and was able to fall asleep despite my thighs spasming every now and then.
Seamlessly, that night in the bunk was replaced with the warm sunrays and chirping birds of the now. Shit, had I fallen asleep here? I checked when I texted mom, that was twenty minutes ago. I’d relived an entire summer in twenty minutes. The drowsiness wore off when I realised me and Michael weren’t actually together and never would be. Now, he was about to leave.
Shit. Fuck this earth. He’s just a guy, why do I have to be such a drama queen about it? Why does it hurt? Mãe says it’s Latin passion. Passion is good, it’s who I am, and I always will be passionate even here in Old Money hell. Please God.
Byron Hall was right behind me, I stretched and shook my head. I’d been marinating in the sweltering June heat for a while. I headed for the door and saw my reflection in the glass casing of a huge notice board. I’d been sweating so much I practically shimmered in the sun, my running shorts were barely visible under my ridiculous big t-shirt. I had a little rash going behind my knees and I was sticky all over. NOT the good kind of sticky. I had every excuse to run back to Rebecca lodge and call it a day.
So, I threw my T-shirt in the trash and God knows no breeze has ever been sweeter to me. Damn, I should wear a sports bra all the time. What the fuck did I use those shirts for, just look at those girls! I look like an athlete in this getup. It’s acceptable, it’s almost a tank top anyway. Right?
I scanned the area, no one seemed to care. I went inside Byron Hall, I crossed the chequered tile floor and ran up the oak stairs, skipping a step with every leap. In the common lounge of the top floor, Mike’s friends had their sunglasses on and were about to head outside. I walked briskly past them, and flicked my hair just to give them something. My sights were set on 509.
No, wait. I can do better than that. I turned around and put my hand high up on the refrigerator in the lounge, I leaned in and extended my body in full. I put on my best telenovela vixen.
“Boys. Is Mike in? Is he? Where?”
Silence. There were six of them in all. That makes six guys pretending not to check me out.
“What? Boys? Is Mike in or not? Don’t jerk me around right now. Don’t,” I said and smacked the refrigerator.
“Uhm, do you need to borrow a shirt from him or something?” said Anthony and cleaned his sunglasses.
Anthony then became the recipient of a very heartfelt, resounding slap to the back of the head from the guy next to him.
“OW! What’s your problem, dude?! He’s in room 509, Gabi, that way.”
“Thanks for helping a girl out, Tony!” I said and blew him a kiss.
I turned around with a sway of the hips and heard just one voice from the lounge. It was low and southern, almost a boom.
“God damn, boys. God fucking damn.”
I made it to Mike’s door and knocked.
“Miiiike! It’s Gabi!”
“Oh? I’m coming!”
Mike opened but was looking down at his phone.
“What… Joshua is texting me that there’s a melon delivery for me? I didn’t order any melons did you see any mel…Oh okay Gabi! Uh… yeah I kinda can’t work out right now; there’s a barbeque and-“
“Joshua is a very funny boy, isn’t he, eh cara?” I said and kicked my shoes off, I walked past Mike and stood in the center of the room as if I was considering buying the place.
I nodded at the doorknob and raised my eyebrows. Mike locked the door and shook his head.
“Hey, Gabi, I don’t know what’s gotten into you but-“
“What’s gotten into me?! You’re going to KOREA, that’s what’s gotten into me!”
My ears were burning.
Mike’s hands seemed to be grasping for the right words, he furrowed his brows while closing and opening his eyes repeatedly.
“Yeah… okay… “
“No, it’s not! It’s not okay! We’ve spent all this time together, and now you’re just gonna-” I said and started blubbering. I could have died.
“Come. Come,” Michael said and opened his arms to me. He hugged me tight.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mike.”
“It’s okay, Gabi; calm down.”
I cried in his arms. How long it lasted, I don’t know. I heard him say my name and some other words. I swayed, but he was big and handled me like it was nothing.
I regained my ability to speak, somewhat. I tapped his chest with the palms of my hands as if I had to see was really there.
“Okay. Mike. In the last year, we have spent so much time getting to know each other and…”
No, I refuse to cry again. Get your shit together, Gabi.
“… and you really like spending time with me?”
“W-what? How do you-“
“How do I know? Because I like spending time with you, Gabi?”
“You do?”
“Uh-huh. If I’m being honest. I like spending time with you a lot more than I do most people.”
No way, no wait, he doesn’t mean it that way.
“Oh, that’s very… nice of you, Mike,” I said and looked at the floor.
“No, Gabriela. A lot more than most people. A lot. Gabi, why do you think we’ve hung out so much, studied together, worked on projects together?”
“I…Mike… I…,” I said and planted my hand right below his neck. So sturdy.
“Ever since that camp last summer, Gabi. Those weeks were perfect, were they not? Listen, I still cannot believe how lucky I was to have you there. You’re the easiest person in the world to talk to, you’ve no idea,” he said and gently caressed the hand I’d put on him. I looked at his lips and I was weightless.
“How lucky you were? You? Remember the willow we used to sit under? We talked all morning one day and I, I just wanted to-“
“I know. Now I know, Gabi. I wanted it too,” he said in a gruff, low voice I’d never heard before.
“Michael,” I said and got up on my toes. He craned his neck, and we kissed, for the first time.
Time was gone, the world was gone. I stood there all filthy in my socks, my shorts, my sports bra and kissed this gorgeous, kind man. His hands shifted to support me, to help me reach him. These kisses were small, like little crackling candies and my thighs rubbed incessantly.
“Mike, I had no idea…,” I said and touched his hair.
“I’m so sorry, Gabi, I’m bad at these things, I’m shy.”
“Me too, Mike, lay down, lay down.”
He lay down, and I got on top of him. His jeans were coarse against my thighs.
“I didn’t think you’d like me,” I said and bent over to smell him.
“Gabi… oh God, you’re like, the kindest girl on campus. Oh and… you’re sexy as fuck,” he said and squinted like he’d just set off a nuke.
He had.
I kissed him all over his face, his neck and grinded so his jeans almost scraped my thighs. I didn’t know what to do with my hands but my pelvis worked overtime.
“Uh wait, Gabi, shit, there’s one thing?”
“What Mikey?”
“I… I’m a virgin, okay?”
Relief. Just, utter, utter relief.
“You? Wait, how religious are you really? Are you saving yourself for marriage?”
“No, no, it’s not that. Well, that used to be the reason, but not for a couple of years now. Now it’s just that, I haven’t met a girl I liked enough since I changed my mind about it.”
“Yeah, me too. The same reason. Do you think it’s dumb? Mike. I swear I’m not a nun or anyth-“
We didn’t have the same reasons, I was too embarrassed to say why.
“Gabi! Come. Chill out, it’s okay. Of course it’s not dumb. Hey, it’s okay. That would be hypocritical of me, no? Come.”
I straddled him, he caressed my arms and just looked me in the eyes. Blue, serene. A calm spread from my belly outwards, in every direction. I regretted ever shaving my arms. I was safe now. No pressure.
“You have no idea how… how good this makes me feel, Mike.”
“Hey, it’s all okay.”
“I’m… I’m not on the pill or anything.”
“Well, I don’t have condoms.”
“How Catholic of you, Mikey boy,” I said, and we both broke out laughing. He rolled on top of me and we kissed between the laughs, bliss.
“Okay, we can do something else,” I said and pushed him back on his back.
“Oooooh, what do you have in mind, Gabriela?”
“Here. Hit record. A souvenir for Korea,” I said and handed him my phone.
I slid down to the floor, on my knees. I relished the sounds of his belt buckle unsnapping. I removed his jeans and threw them in a corner. Well Well.
“Jesus Christ, Gabi.”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, now.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“I was joking, you doofus,” I said and slapped his thigh hard.
“I’m recording.”
I waved at the phone.
“Hi Mikey, this is Gabi. It’s the 21st of June, 2015. We are in our junior year at college, we are both 23 years old. Yeaaah, we started a bit late. In a few seconds, I’ll be sucking your dick for the first time! Enjoy, cutie!” I said and had to laugh. I wondered how the fuck I felt so at ease. I loved it, though.
I pulled his boxers all the way down, too. There was just his t-shirt left, he looked so cute like that.
Well, shit. Oh my.
I kid you not, Mike was hung. I used to think the fabric of his shorts did the heavy lifting. But no, Michael McCluskey just had a big old dick in his pants. I didn’t expect someone so… pretty and boyish to pack all that. Silly me. On top of it all, I’d expected a rough, hairy jungle down there but he was smooth and beautiful all over. Impeccably shaven except the faintest, blond hairs below his navel.
“Oh yeah. Yeah. It’s really pretty.”
“Pretty? What?”
“Trust me, Mikey. It’s straight as an arrow. You’re on tape. Trust a girl. God, it’s so… just, I have to,” I said and put his glistening head just between my lips. I got a feel for it, the shape, the texture, the taste. I held it straight, and my free hand fondled his thighs and pinched his ass. Mike was circumcised, I hadn’t expected that either. I was amazed at how slick I could get it with just my spit. The sounds were getting wetter and wetter. I heard him moan. I heard him.
Fuck it, this is too good. Screw my insecurities.
I, not very gracefully, removed my shorts and panties as I sucked Mike. It scared me, but hell, I was dying to get naked down there.
“Aw shit, aw shit… Gabi, what are you doing?”
I took his cock out of my mouth.
“I just undressed. Below.”
“Oh, okay. Wait, doesn’t that hurt your knees? Get up here,” he said and reached for me.
“Are.. are you sure?”
“Of course, it’s fine, I got you, Gabi.”
I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me up on the bed. It was like getting out of the water after a deep dive. My stomach turned, but after a couple of seconds, I was back at it. I lay on my stomach between his legs and savoured him. He really was adorable, just the way he moaned and got caught off guard when I tried new things.
I didn’t feel dirty, as I thought I would. Instead, I felt tender, because Mike let me be. Nothing was rough here, nothing was adversarial. I liked playing with the head the best, licking it, just giving it little sucks up and down. Even kissing it. I was so in touch with my body. I closed my eyes and feasted, my feet were touching my ass, and I felt so, so taken care of.
“Aaah, Gabi, you look so cute.”
I just stared. I just stared when he said that, like I was awake for the first time in my life. The throbbing in my entire body was overwhelming, it was like I’d drifted away to another reality. I was cute sucking cock? I moaned on it, and boy, did he feel it.
Do it again. Tell me I’m cute. Tell me I’m pretty. Fucking tell me.
“Jesus… shit… oh fuck… you’re so fucking cute Gabriela… I can’t hold it…”
I humped the bed like possessed and soaked his sheets in my juices. No brain left. I was cute. With a dick in my mouth. I could have looked at the agony, the abandon, the ecstasy on Mike’s face forever. I just stared, I stared and heard it over and over.
You look so cute.
A warm jet shot from his dickhead, and even though I was startled at first, I quickly got back on it. I tried to get as much of it in my mouth as I could while he was coming. It was violent, rippling. I was coating Mike’s cock in his own cum. He writhed with moans that were almost feminine. Such a hot boy, I thought. What a hot fucking boy I’ve scored.
Mike needed some time; it got soft, and I just… sort of played with it, fondled it. Not that it got small, mind you. The taste of his sperm was weird, not exactly what I’d expected, but not disgusting or anything. It was warm, really warm when it shot out of him. I found some tissue and cleaned my mouth, spit out what I could. I cleaned him too as he lay there recovering.
I got back on my stomach and slid up to Mike and took his hand. I put it under me.
“Gabi, it’s kinda hard to reach you, you’re on your belly.”
“I haven’t shaved, Mike, it’s really hairy, I’m sorry if it’s disg-“
“Gabi. You’re a woman. I’m a man. It’s ok. Here, let me…”
I opened up and lay on my side, ever so slightly.
“There, oh shit, that’s one wet cunt, Christ.”
“Tell me about it, Mr. McCluskey. Now, do like this.”
I helped him out and led his fingers, showed him the way I did it. I felt completely spoiled, he kept calling me cute and joking around while he touched my face, hair, and neck with the other hand.
We weren’t loud. It was all a dozing cocktail of sheets shifting, slimy wet sounds, and low moans, gasps, sighs, and whimpers. He listened to me, he really did. It was really sweet; we were both rubbing my pussy at the same time, and I finally got off.
After coming and cleaning myself up, I was still in my bra, still in my socks. Hugging him with my entire body. I’d no idea if the barbeque was still on, or what time it was. I didn’t really care.
“Can I tell you something, Michael?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re very kind. You really are.”
He kissed my forehead, and like that, we fell asleep.