Breaking the Bully

by Jessa Kane

“Do you actually think that dumb jock would be a good choice for your first time, Allie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly snaps, just thinking about her being touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right.” Pink is starting to climb her neck.

I have to bite down on my tongue to keep from licking the rise of color. But I think if I actually got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I don’t know how to fuck. In theory I do, but not in practice. Since seeing Allie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. No one before that, either, or I was too young to be sexually active. She gave me my first hard-on when we were fourteen and she showed up to gym class in a white T-shirt and no bra, her tits jiggling around during volleyball—and my dick has never gotten stiff for anyone else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s neglected both to the point of agony. “Left you a little something in your locker—” “Stop,” she breathes.

“I don’t know,” I say through stiff lips. “I evolved into one, didn’t I?” That gives her pause, forms a line between her brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with lavender. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired in town. I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.” That revelation rocks me to the soles of my feet, setting fire to the organ pumping brokenly in my chest. “Jesus, Allie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to claw out the flames, but it doesn’t work. They’ll be blazing for all eternity. “I’m so fucking sorry.” She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” Her eyelids lift, the depth of her pleading slaying me, ruining me far worse than her father ever could. “No more bullying, Moore. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.” Christ.

My senses are overloaded, my inhales and exhales rattling in my ears. Precipitation molds her light T-shirt to her pretty, pointed tits, her mouth is swollen from being kissed. I’m an eighteen-year-old man who’s only ever climaxed from jerking off, and because of that, my instinct now is to take my cock out and jack off to the sexual feast in front of me. I’ll come so hard. So hard. All over her. But this is sex. I’m being allowed sex. With the girl of my dreams. My dick is in disbelief, painfully distended and dripping with pre-come in my briefs, begging to blow inside of her, instead of out. And Allie…her eyes are locked on it in wonder, lips in an O shape. The poster child for virginity. I’m going to be looking at that beautiful face when she takes my cock inside of her, feeling me move, stealing her innocence. Jesus. How am I going to last one pump? “Allie,” I groan through my teeth, trying to explain with that single word how fucking horny I am and the problem it’s presenting. She’s still staring at the bulge in my jeans. “Am I…should I…” I’ve never heard her with that husky tone of voice before. “Does it go in my mouth first?” A shudder wracks me so hard, my teeth momentarily chatter.

“I can?” With a choked sound, I take hold of my shaft and press it to her tightness, my life flashing in front of my eyes when I slide in a single inch and the wet flesh cinches up around me. Clenching like a fist. “Oh. Fuck.” I drop my face into her neck, raking my teeth against it, my hips burning with the need to thrust. Claim. Pound her into the ground. “I lied to you, Allie. I lied. I’ve never been with anyone like this. I’ve never wanted to touch anyone but you. Never been hard for anything but this…” I force in another inch, wincing, starting to sweat. “This sweet little Allie pussy. I wanted inside of it so bad and now I can’t get halfway in without unloading. I’ve just got so much come for you. Christ, it hurts. My balls are so fucking heavy, baby.” I search Allie’s flushed face and find her looking at me in wonder, surprise. “You’re a virgin, too?” she whispers, rain dappling her lips. “You…waited for me.” My nod is jerky, teeth clenched. “You really haven’t figured it out yet? You can’t tell I’m obsessed with you?” I drop hard kisses all over her face, her hair, her neck. “You can’t tell I would murder, lie and steal to have you look at me?” Her breath comes in tight pants, blue eyes glazed.

We stormed. That’s what we did. All this time, I envisioned Moore meeting girls on the weekends, forgetting all about me in a quest for momentary male bliss. But that wasn’t the case at all. He’s been…he waited. He waited for me. The bald honesty in his eyes when making that confession left absolutely no doubt that he…feels something for me. Quite a lot, if I can believe what a man says in the heat of the moment. None of what Moore said felt like bluster, though. Or a man telling a woman what she wants to hear. It was as if he’d been holding it in and pleasure broke the dam of secrets, sending them rushing toward me. Leaving me to stay afloat in all of this new knowledge.

“I’m honored, too.” She slides another inch closer to me, trapping my cock between our bellies. “I’m the first person you’ve told about wanting build porches and decks for a living, aren’t I?” “Of course you are,” I say, wrapping an arm around her waist and dragging her up against me where we exhale roughly into one another’s mouths, our hips locking together. Sweet Christ, yes. “You’re my first everything.” Neither one of us makes the move to light the sexual wick that will burn out of control. We hover there, in the place right before the explosion, our hearts hammering together, fingers sliding on skin, hips tilting and pushing subtly. “Moore?”

“He sold his bike this morning—this is the money from the sale. Moore said you would need the cash. He said letting you go is the right thing to do.” “No.” I try to stand and can’t, my legs refusing to support me. There has to be three thousand dollars in that envelope. “No…no.” “Why don’t we focus on the schools you have to choose from?” My whole body is shaking. “But…” I need him. Don’t I?