G The Hollowest Girl of Them All

The Hollowest Girl of Them All

Steven: The Challenge. (part 1)

It has been three days of dryness for him. He was strung tight as a bow and the heat rolled off his skin in waves. He bit down on the pillow and clenched his eyes closed in pain.

Steven was demanding and petulant, like a spoiled child; and as much as it annoyed, I liked that part of him. Particularly when it was coupled with his nakedness.

I had asked him to try going without sex for a week, and it was only Wednesday. It didn’t bode well for him to be this far gone in such little time…

It was an experiment. From it, I learned the true meaning of addiction, and he learned how he could outsmart his body with his mind if things got terribly dire.

We’d laugh about it months later. But for now, he was glaring at me, from under swathes of his silken hair like I had murdered his best friend.

"But,you don’t know what its like.” He bit out

I’d already heard that one several times before Tuesday. It wasn’t going to work.

"Please."

He looked up at me and scowled.

To this day, I still  think he was the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. But that wasn’t going to get him off the hook at all, and he knew it. Steven harrumphed and clutched the pillow again tightly, the muscles bunching deliciously in his arms.

"I’ll give you a loophole." I said finally. "If you can make yourself come without touching yourself, or touching me, on your back without help from anyone else…. it doesn’t count."

He grinned.

(Part 2)

Once Upon a Time, I dated a guy who liked me to write for him.

One day, he requested that I make him an erotic fiction piece and this is what I came up with. Don’t laugh. Its not really my forte. I’m more into sensuality than sexuality when it comes to words. Or maybe I’m just a crap writer. Fuck knows.


He was a beautiful man. Not the best I’d ever seen, but he sure gave the rest a run for their money.  And yes, I knew he was cocky, but his arrogance was a surprising turn on. It was that self assured confidence bred from years of success that lingered on blue bloods and middle-aged businessmen that had somehow found itself smeared all over a broke art student.

I would have chuckled at the irony, but my mouth was full of cock.
I loved this. Just fucking loved it.

He grabbed my hair and he tasted too good and I could ride him forever. You know that saying “size matters”? Or the defensive one “ It doesn’t matter how big, if they know how to work it.”? Both are utter bullshit. I believe there is a Goldilocks Zone. A Goldilocks Zone of cock, somewhere between too big and slightly below average where the closer you get to the middle the more perfect everything is….

But unfortunately, my pseudo-scientific mental ramblings were cut short by him roughly wrenching me off him.
“ Stop. I don’t want it to end like this.”

 I pulled forward against his grip and licked the tip with the end of my tongue. Just to show him how much I wanted it. He shuddered. I stood and cupped his face in my hands. I kissed his temple softly, then pushed him back onto the futon.

I like to use this mixture of softness and wantonness with him. It would be easy to  haul off and just writhe on him like a slut, but he’d probably expect it. No matter how much I’d love to do just that. But there was something enjoyable about hitting him with sweetness when he didn’t expect it. Kissing his dick before I sucked it. Looking at him in surprised ecstasy as he fucked me hard. Saying ‘please’ in a quiet voice before he came.

I bit each of his nipples hard then kissed the middle of his chest and stroked his sides softly with my finger tips. He grasped my hips roughly, kneading his thumbs into my joints. I arched back and pushed my tits into his face. God, its cute how much he loves that.

I combed my fingers through his hair roughly so it stuck up in spikes.

“As you ready?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

I lowered myself onto him and moaned loudly, the fullness, Oh the fullness. He arched up and hissed as I took him all the way in.
His roommate banged on the wall in annoyance and we both laughed and he banged back. I rolled  my hips cheekily and covered my mouth in mock embarrassment. He smirked and offered me his hands. We laced fingers and I began to ride him.

Usually we have more time than today, so it will have to be quick. I started slow, just enjoying the feeling; teasing him, by squeezing him inside on the down-stroke and swiveling enticingly. I tossed my hair back and gasped. It was nice, but I really had to get back to work in twenty minutes so I sped up, bouncing on his dick wantonly. 

He bit his lip and thrust up  for a  while before getting tired of the pace and flipping me abruptly. Not expecting it, I shrieked in surprise, and bounced up from the mattress. We brutally collided foreheads.  Both of us groaned in agony and he covered his eyes.

His roommate banged on the wall even harder.

“Would you guys shut the fuck up?!”

It was so absurd and awful and hilarious that I just started laughing.

He raised an eyebrow,  then kissed me playfully and scraped my face with his stubble with a vengeance.

“I know you’ve gotta go, so lets make this quick.”

He reached down and fucked me slowly playing with my clit. I wrapped my legs around his back and arched up towards him in encouragement. I could feel myself getting closer, so I rushed forward towards it, pinching my own nipples and leaning up to be kissed.

I gasped and came hard, clutching his shoulders. I tried to be quiet, because really, his roommate is a very nice guy. Law student. And it was finals week.

My art student, however didn’t give a fuck. He moaned loudly as he finished, collapsing heavily onto my chest.

3-2-1 Obligatory cuddling. Then I wiggled out from underneath him and starting throwing my clothes back on. He watched me as I got dressed. Pulled up my stockings and tied up my hair.

“Don’t forget the midterm today.” I said, putting my glasses back on and throwing my purse over my shoulder.

“Is it hard?” he asked, partially muffled by the sheets.

I laughed then patted him on the cheek. “For you, dear,  it doesn’t matter.”

We waltzed with each other through several months.

His hands slipped through mine, clutching them sweetly.

His kisses were soft as they brushed against my cheek. He was too shy to do anything more. Burying his head in my shoulder, cheeks ablaze.

Nicholas.

Became Nick.

Became Nicky.

      Sweet, darling Nicky.

He smelled of clove cigarettes, and cake and something else. Something heady and musky and very much boy.

We were the closest friends, as friends can be without crossing the line.

He took me everywhere, like I was his child, and bought me lunch and brushed crumbs off my shirt. At times, he curled inwards toward me when he was scared or insecure and I held him like he was mine.

I think of all my relationships, ours was the most innocent. The most decadent.

One day,I fell asleep next to him in the sun; in a garden of flowers. We napped for hours, then I woke up and made him a flower crown and he wore it all day. He smiled at me as he placed it on his head, like the purest rarest gold. Then he covered my hand with his in thank you.

So gentle. Like he was touching a baby bird.

Instead of the proverbial notches on my bedpost, I decided to write about them instead. My loves. My experiences. I've definitely had enough of them to entertain someone out there.
"Cento" Copyright © Andrew Brinker 2011.