“…and then I was like, ‘yeah, baby, you know just what spot to hit inside me.‘ He didn’t really know, but he learned as I showed him just what I needed to come. Girl, it was spectacular. Not the best, but still reached the end goal, if you know what I mean, chica,” she says with a wiggle of her butt.
She smacks her glossy lips together and does a little hip swivel as she finishes getting ready. My little Latina friend has always been a free spirit, but her sleeping around with half the male population goes a lot deeper. Her parents raised her basically in a church—strict and controlling. The only thing her parents signed her up for when she was a kid that Mary still does is ballet. She dances and has been trying to get into a university with a dancing program, like Juilliard. For now, she’s constantly on the prowl for a new hook up before moving on to the next. I get she wants to spread her wings, but I worry about her, because I know for a fact she feels nothing for these guys that pass through her bedroom door almost every night.
I don’t really see the appeal, to be honest. I had a ‘wham bam, thank you, ma’am’ moment in high school when I was at my lowest. At the time, I felt like an empty shell, a human in a bodysuit without a soul. Mom died, I stopped skating for a while—which is my outlet so I don’t sink—and then Father went down the deep end to the point of no return. I needed to feel, even if it was just for a few seconds. Anything to escape my reality and the endless questioning of why I’m still here in the messed-up life I numbly live. I floated in a black sea with my head above the water, just barely keeping me afloat, while the rest of my body sank, dragging me down day by day.
It was all fumbled kisses, groping hands, and then over in two minutes, leaving me feeling unsatisfied and like I was missing something. I don’t have the urge to repeat that whole mess for a very long time. Even the hot men that walk around this campus like Greek gods really don’t do it for me, except one who won’t leave my thoughts. But I’m determined not to think about that asshole again.
It’s the last time, starting right now.
I wonder why he has a look of suppressed anger and sadness deep in those green eyes that pierced right into me… What I wouldn’t give to solve the puzzle of the mysterious air that surrounds him. Damn it! For the love of…I did it again!
“Are you listening to me, girl?” She snaps her fingers to get my attention, and my face turns red. “You’ve been staring at my ass for a solid five minutes. I get it, really, I do. It’s a great ass. Can’t blame ya for checking out my booty.”
There she goes again with the hip swirls and her cackling laugh as I chuck her pillow at her big head just before she smacks her own butt. I was staring at the ceiling as I was buried deep in my head, not staring at her bubbly butt. By the twinkle in her eye, she caught me not listening to her red-handed as she babbled on and on about her sex life.
“Sorry, I’m being a shitty friend. You may continue, but fewer details would be nice. I’m still scarred from when you told me about the professor you almost hooked up with. I never want to hear about a golden shower again, and last semester was torture for me when I had his class. I can only see him now in a zebra thong while he asks for you to pee on him. I’m forever traumatized.” I gag and block that mental image from my head.
Her body lets out a shudder like she wishes she can forget too. Her life stories don’t only affect her, especially when Professor Kinky asked me why I wouldn’t look him in the eye last semester as he praised me about my writing assignment. Talk about awkward. I remember blurting out the first thing I could think of—I freaking told him I had to go pee. I cringed and basically ran away before he got any ideas.
“Believe me when I say, chica…I wish I could rewind time and forget that night. Naughty professors are off my list. Anyways, I was telling you about my latest hookup before you spaced out. I can feel your stress from here. When was the last time you went out, girl? You need to let loose and free your vajayjay. I say we party, let our pussies do the talking! Party tonight and yes it’s a jock party but those are the best. Sometimes you’ll see a cock breezing in the wind or boobies letting free. We need this.” she declares, and flops on the bed next to me.
I groan silently as, once again, my friend is up to no good, trying to corrupt my ways. I don’t want to let my vagina on the loose. I’m not looking for love or a boyfriend. I just want out of this freaking state!
“I don’t think so. Think of all the horny frat jocks.” I make the sign of the cross, and that does the trick because she starts laughing her ass off.
After a few minutes, she stops and we just lie there in silence as we stare at the ceiling.
“You need to start living, you haven’t for a long time. I worry about you,” she whispers, grabbing my hand with a squeeze.
My heart squeezes itself, and I feel like I can’t even smile just so she doesn’t have
