Autumn crackled and split into a thousand colorful shards of reds, browns, yellows, and every variation in between. The warm, rich smell of the wet forest and the fields getting ready for the longer, colder nights settled over the small New England community where I live and work as a carpenter. The hillside was just starting to color up. A few brown leaves crunched underfoot.
It was a Friday afternoon, and I was packing up my tools for the weekend. Maybe it was the song I was listening to by the Smiths, or possibly a random scent that caught me. I found my memory casting back to my days at Indiana University and Jessica.
Fall in Southern Indiana is underrated, full of magic and mystery. Bloomington swells with sexual energy as all those horny coeds return from the summer. The mixture of hard and soft woods on rolling hills creates a tapestry of color. Add this to the subtle sexual promise of Halloween, of being someone different, hidden behind a mask of a potentially dangerous and alluring stranger. Makes for a rather exciting season.
When we first met, Jessica was working on her MFA. I was an undergraduate, majoring in the art of trying not to declare a major for as long as possible. Back then, one could afford to spend 4 years with very little actual responsibility, surrounded by friends, good pot, and bad beer.
In college, Jessica loved all things film. She had a dream of someday making movies. We both had a passion for the horror genre and would sometimes seek each other’s beds after watching a scary movie.
The first time this happened was when I’d gone to a teenage summer camp slasher movie. When I got home, I called Jess and asked if she wanted to come over. I really wanted to tell her about the movie. I was pretty weirded out by watching something that both disturbed and excited me.
She was over in 10 minutes, carrying a bottle of rum. I took a bottle of my roommate’s Coke from the fridge and mixed us drinks. We went to my room, and I started to tell her about the movie.
Because there was only one chair for my desk, we were both lying on my bed. Jess had a pixie smile playing around her eyes and mouth that somehow always hinted at mischief.
She was wearing sweatpants and a baggy gray I.U. sweatshirt. For being so skinny, Jess had a large chest. Not one to be shy about showing off her cleavage normally, but that night I recall was chilly, so she’d covered up. I was wearing a pair of flannel pants and a T-shirt.
As I described the scene when the camp counselors started getting slaughtered, one by one, copious amounts of fake blood spurting, Jess sat up, drained her glass of rum and Coke, and lay down closer to me. Cuddling in so that her chest was pressed into my side. I slid my arm around the back of her head, and my hand came to rest on her side. The plumpness and the fact that I didn’t feel any straps led me to realize Jess was not wearing a bra.
Jess always smelled of some exotic spice that I could never identify, but was always intoxicated by. Between the rum and her scent, not to mention her proximity. I was feeling warmth growing through my core; it made me more than just a little horny.
Apparently, I wasn’t alone in this feeling because she slipped her hand under my shirt and rested it on my stomach. This was the first time she’d touched me in such an intimate way. I continued relaying the twists of the sorted plot. She allowed my hand to slide over, grazing her breast, and finding a hard bump, I lightly ran my fingers over it. Two things came to mind at that moment. First, she made no effort to remove my hand and even turned slightly, arching her back to make her nipple more available.
Second was how plump and hard her bump was getting as I slid my fingers up and over her breast. Jessica’s nipples were becoming harder in response to my touch and more visible.
Jess moved her hand down and let it come to rest just under the waistband of my flannels. Then, after a moment’s pause, she cautiously slid her hand until it came to rest upon the top of my stiffening penis. She traced a finger down, then took hold.
I stopped talking and looked down.
“What?…keep going,” she said, giving my hard-on a squeeze. I continued talking as she slid down my body and rested her head on my chest. Obviously surprised by this turn of events, I stammered, finding it difficult to continue my narrative. She lifted her head, turned to face me, smiled, and asked, “Why is your dick so hard? Are you some kind of perv?”
I laughed and explained that this was what usually happens when someone starts playing with it.
Inexplicably, Jessica increased the strength of her grip. She gave me 15 or 20 hard, fast strokes before abruptly stopping and making a show of pulling her hand out, leaving me stunned. Jess then got up on her knees, pulled my flannels, and boxers down, and threw them to the floor. She took a moment to size me up before laying her head back down, this time resting her head gently on my stomach. Her head was now closer to my penis as she resumed stroking me, holding it straight up. Her pace had slowed as she examined my hardness.
At that point, I wondered if she would take me into her mouth. I hoped she would. She was holding it so close to her face she’d only need to stick out her tongue to lick my shaft. The very idea brought on a surge, and I felt myself grow thicker in her grasp.
“Keep telling me about the movie, sicko.” She squeezed my penis hard at the base and shook it side to side, before taking her finger and thumb and flicking my cockhead. Startled and a little nervous, I refocused my thoughts and continued to recount the story as she continued stroking, slow and firm. At one point, she interrupted me again, stating, “Your cock is so hard, I think you ARE some kind of psycho. Were you jerking off in the movie theater?” She asked while steadily pumping away. “God no… Why have you done that?” I asked, astonished by the very idea. “Oh, don’t act like you never do it, I bet you jack off all the time”, ignoring my query. Then, after a moment’s pause, she added, “And, yes, I have… once… in a movie theater, I mean. I jack off all the time.”
She got up on her elbow and, facing me, asked, “Has anyone ever jacked you off… or… sucked you off at a movie?” I just looked at her with a puzzled expression as she picked up the rhythm and pace. “Are you the reason all the floors in movie theaters are so sticky, you and all your girlfriends?” This time, I didn’t answer, trying to hold back as long as possible, enjoying the feeling of her hand’s tightening grip and her taunting questions.
“ Yeah, I thought so,” she rolled back down on her side and kissed the tip before taking it into her mouth, and finally began sucking. After a minute or so of this, she released my root, sat up, and pulled her sweatshirt up over her head, pausing briefly to untangle her long hair, freeing her perfect breasts. Her nipples were brown and hard. Now it was my turn to stare.
Jess once again sat on her knees beside me, smiling that mischievous smile. Jess brought her hands up and took her hard nipples between her fingers, pulling and teasing them. Then guided my hand up to her chest. My hand felt large inside her tiny one as she brought it up and placed it on her breast.”Just know this, my powers are strong, you’ll probably pass out.” She closed her eyes as I took over the job of teasing her nipples. It wasn’t long before her pants were on the floor and we were both naked on the bed.
“Finish telling me the story, and I’ll finish you off.” Jess continued giving me a hand job as I relayed the last details of the film’s final blood bath. After which she slid down my body and took me into her small, beautiful, delicate mouth. It wasn’t long before a tidal wave began to rise and crest and crash over me as Jessica took the entire load of my pulsing orgasm into her mouth, swallowing as my erection released spurt after spurt, completely emptying me. As she took me out of her mouth, some leaked down her chin and onto her chest. She took the sweatshirt and used it to wipe up, then dried my shaft with it.
Suddenly, Jess pretended to shake and became all zombie-like, raising one hand and pointing a finger in my face. Doing her best demonic voice, she growled, “ I swallowed your cum” shouting the word cum “I swallowed your soul, now I own it.” Laughing wickedly, eyes rolling back up into her head.
“Okay… umm, fine? Can I please talk to Jessica again now?” I played along. “No,” Jess shouted again and climbed on top of me, straddling my waist, her tiny hands pushing my shoulders down, pinning me to the bed. I could feel her warm, wet, hairy pussy grinding into my spent cock. A small drop of semen glistened on her breast, another shiny smear on the side of her lovely face. “Jessica is sucking cocks in Hell.”
“Wow, okay, Linda Blair, hope you’re not getting ready to vomit split pea soup all over me,” I said, relaxing back into the pillow, thoroughly enjoying the performance
“Kiss my cummy mouth, mortal.” She started licking my cheek and darting her tongue in and out like a possessed demon before sticking it into my mouth. We kissed passionately until she rolled off me and fluttered her eyes as if just waking up. “I…uhh, what just happened, I just had the strangest dream…” feigning innocent confusion. “Did it involve sucking cocks in Hell?” I asked, “Why, yes…yes it did, lots of them, however did you know?”
Early that morning, I woke and found her asleep next to me. She was wearing the sweatshirt she’d wiped up my cum with, as a nightshirt; she wore nothing else. As I spooned into her from behind, she reached back and once again took hold, then sleepily guided me into her. I remember thinking, my God, how can someone so beautiful be so… what was it? Horny, passionate, wild? All of the above.
In my naivety, I thought she was guiding me into her ass. I asked her about it the next day, in the library where we were studying together. “Did we have anal sex yesterday morning?” “No, dummy, that was my pussy.” Shocked that I couldn’t tell the difference. “ Why? Do you want to fuck me in the ass?” I said I’d love to, so we tried it the next time we had a chance. We experimented a lot in those days and did have anal sex, but not that first time.
After guiding me into her, she took my hand and slid it under the sweatshirt, placing it on her breast, and slid my fingers against her nipple. As I slowly shifted my weight, sliding in and out of her, she mumbled something about not cumming inside, so I asked her where she’d like it. Turning over, she pulled off the sweatshirt and laid it on her stomach, just under her breasts. “Shoot for the ladies.” She took hold and pumped me into an explosive orgasm. The first shot landed in her hair and on her face, the next two reached her tits, and the rest pooled onto the shirt. The image of Jess lying under me, covered in my seed, is something I still think about to this day.
Another sunny fall Sunday afternoon, not long after that, Jess and I met up and decided to catch a movie. Classes had just started for the year. I’d spent the summer working at a camp in the New Jersey pine barrens.
There was a bar/restaurant downtown called “Bear’s Place” that also had a theater in it. One could get a pizza, drink a beer, and watch a movie all in one place. Jess and I went to one of the many horror films of that era, involving aliens.
I remember she was wearing a light, almost transparent, sundress and that same I.U. sweatshirt from before. At this point, we had slept together several times, and it occurred to me that usually she would ask me to finish on this same sweatshirt.
I asked her about it that night at the movie, and she said, “It’s just something we do, don’t ask so many questions.” Strange, I thought, wondering if “We” meant her and me, or her and someone else, but I didn’t pursue it.
We took our seats in the theater with a pitcher of beer and a sausage mushroom pizza. Things got interesting as the movie depicted a troubling scene where the female lead was wrapped in the tentacles of the alien, which were probing her naked body.
Jess took hold of my hand and held it in her lap.
At the point when tentacles slipped simultaneously into the actress’s mouth, vagina, and ass, Jess pressed my hand between her legs. After several moments, she lifted and slipped her panties off, stuffed them into her purse, and then replaced my hand. I could feel her thick pubic hair and the warmth between her legs just under the thin material of her sundress.
I started to slowly explore her as she opened her legs and slyly pulled up the front of her dress. Taking hold of my hand, she used my finger to rub back and forth over the swollen bud at the top of her soft pussy lips. While on the screen, the alien fucked every available opening. Jessica led my fingers down into her slippery pussy.
Just as the alien exploded gallons of thick white film cum into and all over the actress, Jess bucked and bit her lip, trying desperately not to moan too loudly as I fingered her to an orgasm at the same time as the alien orgasm. The actress on the screen bellowed as the tentacle abusing her pussy was forced out by a tidal wave of fluid which splattered all over the Alien’s grotesque and bulbous face. The alien shrieked, withdrew all its appendages, and scuttled back into its cave. The actress was saved by her spurting fluid but left naked, writhing in orgasmic spasms, on the ground in a giant pool of alien cum.
I don’t really remember much about the ending of the film, just that Jess relaxed back into her seat, and I left my hand between her legs. Slowly and lightly running a finger around her wet folds. As the credits rolled, Jess was looking at me with a spent gaze; a look in-between embarrassed and not embarrassed. One eyebrow slightly cocked, her mouth closed around a smile bursting to get out. I could read her face; it said, I can’t believe you just did that.
My hand was soaked, and I wiped as much of her cream as I could onto her thick bush, but it was saturated, so I used the front of her sweatshirt for cleaning up the mess that Jess had released all over my hand. After the movie, as we prepared to go, I took a bite of the last piece of pizza. The aroma and juice left on my fingers mixed perfectly with the flavor of the pie. I joked as I held the piece up for her to sample that they should name a pizza after her.
“The Jessica’. Contains subtle notes hinting at the delicate flavor of Jessica’s amazing pussy.” She just shook her head, saying, “Jesus, you really are a psycho, aren’t you?”
All these memories came flooding back as I drove home. Jessica and I still texted each other periodically and talked about meeting up again. Not long after, an opportunity presented itself that made that possible.
That’s a story for another day.
