No disrespect intended but, my offense is far more “pardonable” than yours. Don’t think for one moment that sharing mine with you means that I agree with what you’ve done. Before I depart for good, I’ll share my wrong doing. You are a jerk! You do know that, don’t you? Any who, I’ll try to be brief.
Sunday morning I was sitting at the bleachers by the first-base-side cheering our softball squad. We were playing against Amherst College with a playoff berth at stake. It had been quite the duel up to that point. We were up at bat, down by two runs in the bottom of the seventh inning. The meat of the order was up, their pitcher was tiring. I was sured we’d capitalize on our chances in this inning.
Throughout the game, there was this Amherst student sitting behind the catcher; obviously rooting against us. A group of people sat on the small bleacher back there trying to opaque her chant. She wasn’t sitting on the seats rather, she sat to its left with her legs ups against it. From where I was standing I had a perfect view of her. She wore a white shirt with white purple lettering in front, along with jean shorts. I turned my camera towards her and flipped a few photos. She must have noticed me because she wrote something on her VHS-sized smartphone, and pointed it in my direction. I drew as closed as my handy SLR allowed and clicked a few pictures. I turned the LCD screen on to review results, and it took no more than one digital zoom to see that it was a ten digit number. Being a mathematics major, I instantly calculated it that it was a phone number.
I took out my mobile, dialed the number… ring, ring… I looked in her direction to see her answering her phone. She heckled me on the phone. Taunting about all the bad things that Amherst was going to dish out in the last innings. I, in a moment of uncontrolled form, told her that I had something bad to give her right then and there in front of everyone. She quickly hung up, stuck her finger out at me, and motioned with her tongue the “universal” sign for cunnilingus. I ignored her because I honestly felt defeated. I am not the type of guy with quick comebacks, I’m more of a think-now-act-later sort of person. It didn’t even take an instance for me to give up hope about teasing her where it hurts, when then a message notification snapped me out of defeat.
The message was from her. Upon opening it, a frontal picture of her shorts she’d obviously just taken teased me hello. It was accompanied with a text caption that read: “you can lick that, loser(s).” I gave my roommate the SLR, grabbed my mobile device, turned its camera on and walked over to her. The sun was against my back shading her from it. I hovered over then told her — paraphrasing of course, I don’t recall much of what I said: Spread them right there, I’m taking my own picture.
I must have tickled her funny because she burst in laughter. Nearby spectators looked at us wondering what the laughter was about. I thought short and not very thoroughly, got on my knees, grabbed my mobile, pulled her legs apart, and took a photo. She didn’t say a word! What happened next…
I brought my hands down there, pulled her shorts to the side and placed me lips right against her lips. She did absolutely nothing for a good few seconds. Then, “how dare you! not here, not here” repeatedly escaped her mouth. She tried to push my face off from her, but I had my hands against her thighs almost glued to her crotch. Say what you may, but the satisfaction I tasted came accompanied with a little sweat she had worked up while seated under the sun for seven innings. I loved it! I have never been much of a clean freak when taking what I want. I wanted it to feel decadent and irreversible. I grabbed a-whole-lot-of-bunch from her down there in a sucking action; I swear I must have had half her body inside my mouth. Visions of the Cheeto’s Panther came to mind as if I was a young child gobbling down a pack of cheese doodles before my mother caught me red handed.
She gave up pushing away my head and was now holding it against her crotch. All of this took not two, tops three minutes. I got smacked on the head with, god knows what, interrupting my lewdness. Three other women created such a dynamic jolt of my body prying me away from her. Amid the chaos I got a beautiful look down at her. She was spread like a butterfly drying her wings from the night’s mist against the sun. Her shorts pushed to the side and her vulva glistening from the residues of my mouth, her sweat and secretion. She looked up in disbelief, piercing me with a devilish smile.
Security guards came, and that’s why I’m here. Two days later still waiting for my brother who purposely left me in the holding cell to teach me a lesson. He said he’d come today. That he’d be here soon. But, that’s been his story since I came in here. The good thing about all of this, aside from being kicked out of school — I didn’t really like it anyhow — is that I got her phone number, and a last message telling me that she was still wet.
I don’t know if she has been detained, nor do I remember exactly what she looks like. All I distinctly remember is her long black hair, thick eyebrows, and taste of euphoria! Once my brother gets me out, I’m heading to the softball field.
Crimson Crossing - Stories in Erotica 