American Phalanx Ch. 02

"It's alright. Your mother and I agreed you can stay here overnight," Miss Turner reassures me, setting her knife and fork down for the last time. Everyone was eager to wrap up dinner and get to bed as well.

"Sorry, but David's using the guest room now, so...couch? Ma?" Rachel turns to her mother, expecting confirmation.

"You two can share a bed, darling."

Rachel and I look excited and shocked at the same time.

"Mama?"

"You're both adults now and it's none of my business what you do with each other. I know you," she turns to me, "will take responsibility for whatever happens."

Miss Turner takes on a grim, serious look, staring me in the eyes, scrutinizing my character. I understand exactly what she means, and nod my head. If I did knock Rachel up, I wouldn't hesitate to marry her and raise the kids together.

Almost as if she had read my mind, she backs off and her eyes and mouth crinkle into a smile,

"But don't go starting a family just yet! If you're planning on 'sleeping' tonight, put this on," she says, planting a packet in my hand.

I look down at my palm to see a condom from Feynman's Pharmacy. I gulp.

"Let's just go to my room! My mom's gone crazy!" Rachel yanks my head and pulls me away. Her face is completely red.

Miss Turner just laughs at us as we climb the stairs.

"Honestly," Rachel huffs with a toothbrush in her mouth. "She takes marriage and relationships so darn seriously! We only just started dating, can she lay off the marriage talk?"

It's dim, but I can see Rachel's face in the mirror. She looks more than annoyed.

She takes a cup-full of water and spits out the baking soda-peppermint concoction we all use to brush our teeth with.

"Ah, I'm all ready for bed now. I guess this is where I take you into my room?"

Her blue eyes blink nervously at me.

"Wait, I didn't brush my teeth."

"But you didn't bring a brush."

I look at her toothbrush sitting in its cup. Her eyes widen once she sees the object of my gaze.

"Oh gross, dude!"

"We've made out," I remind her. "You've already had a piece of me in your -"

"Don't say that!"

"-So why can't I borrow your brush for just one night? You can boil it or whatever afterwards."

"Maaaann....okay, fine! But this is nasty as hell!"

I take the toothpaste knife and scrape some of it on the brush fibers. A quick hand snatches the brush from my grip.

"I don't trust you not to do something gross with it, so let me," Rachel points the end at my mouth. I raise a curious brow before opening it.

She squints into the dark of my mouth before gently sticking it in. It brushes the tops of my molars. Her eyebrows raise up as she successfully cleans my teeth.

"Kinky," I managed to mumble out.

"Oh, hush!"

I rinse out my mouth with her cup and spit into the sink. I give Rachel a little pinch on her side before following her to her room.

She cranks a hand-powered lantern, filling up the small space with a little light. Her room is exactly how I remembered it. A small library of records line her wall underneath a row of old posters. Several of them have tears running down them, carefully re-aligned and plastered over with scotch tape. An electric bass guitar stands against the corner of her wall.

Along another wall is a bookshelf, with neatly stacked comic books and plain, unembroidered fiction novels. I walk over and pick one up, wiping the dust from the cover.

"Fifty Shades of Grey," I read the title.

Rachel rushes over and snatches it out of my hand.

"Uhh...Have you read this?"

"No, what's it about?"

"Nothing," she lilts, putting the book back in its place. "Come here, I need your help with something."

I follow her over to her bed. The lantern was set on the floor, so only the bottom half of the room was lit up at all.

She pats her mattress. "Sit here."

"Ooh, sounds exciting."

Without responding, she pulls out a weird-looking object from underneath her bed. It looked like a tripod with a pair of pedals on it. She sets it on the ground, in front of my feet.

"Put your feet on it," she orders me patiently, before fetching the power cable from her record player. She plugs it in the front of the contraption, and the record player's blue light turns on.

"Okay, just speed it up a little, now," she says while searching through her library. She pulls out a faded paper jacket. On the cover is what looks like a sun setting into the ocean. But from this distance and under the dim light, it's just simple shapes to me.

"My grandpa loved this record."

She pulls the record out and sets it in place on the turntable before gently putting the needle on the spinning surface.

Silence. She prepares the volume knob. I move my legs apart to keep my the fabric of my pants from sweeping against itself.

A single, relaxing line of downtempo, synthetic notes enters the room, each one echoing and lingering in the air as the next one comes in, until they all resonate at the end of each stanza like all the hanging notes of a windchime.

The second layer quickly follows, complementing it with a simple, more earthy "doo doo doo" pattern as the first one arpeggios ethereally. I faintly hear a woman breathing, interspersed throughout and incorporated into the music.

Rachel sits down next to me, her hand inches from mine. She looks at my face from the corner of her eye. I make a patient expression, enjoying what I'm hearing and waiting for the song to pick up, which happens less than a minute into the song.

An upbeat drum track comes in and paces the synthetic notes, which repeat their previous melody. The woman's breathing is still interspersed throughout the song. Rachel closes her eyes and leans her head back. I'm pedaling now to the song's tempo, head wrapped in its multi-layered experience.

The drums go quiet for a second, and just then I realize that there was also a base line there. The melody becomes more complex, but it still retains its fuzzy, ambient quality. The guitar and drums take over and give it a more rock-like feel, before the more synthesizer-heavy sounds come in and drown us back in the sounds of hypnagogic pop.

The first song ends and is shortly followed by the next. They're all unique, but they all give me the same impression that you're experiencing glimpses of a future that has more connections to the past than the present. I feel myself being taken out of time, yet I also feel like the moment I'm in lasts forever.

The absence of lyrics makes it easier for me to just listen to the music without trying to think in words.

Likewise, I just look at Rachel's face in silence. She meets my gaze with her eyes, then closes them while rubbing her hand across mine. A soft acoustic guitar thrums in the distance while synthetic voices whisper and hum around us like a cloud of sound.

The next track brings us back to the retrofuture. The electric sounds all feel very organic and natural, and I for some reason, when I close my eyes, I imagine myself driving on an endless highway in a convertible, towards a maroon-pink sunset. I turn towards Rachel. I imagine her hair blowing in the wind beside me as we drive towards a destination with no name.

I brush her hair back with my hand to expose her neck. She shivers, undulating her back. I run down the lobe of her little, round ear with the tips of my fingers. She doesn't do anything, but lets me go further.

I stop, bringing my hand back down to my side and face forward again, closing my eyes and re-immersing myself in the song.

Without a word, a pair of arms grab and wrap around my own. Her right hand interlaces fingers with my left. The mattress shifts, and without looking, I feel her sitting right nexts to me.

We sit like this for a while. A very mysterious track with flute-like instrumentals warbles and quavers at the half-hour mark. I feel the insides of my thighs chafe from my non-stop riding, and I step off the generator and lie back down on the mattress. Rachel takes over, sitting in my lap. Her thighs and butt jostle on my legs, inadvertently massaging them.

The lantern had already died down; the only illumination coming from the electronic record player. The ceiling was a murky black. I lower my gaze, catching the light blue of her hair and arms in the light, fixed in place. Blood had pooled in my lap, and my stiff dick presses against her crotch like a bicycle seat.

After a few minutes of this, as the album explored more subconscious rhythms, she gets off and takes a few steps forward. She turns around, staring at me without an expression on her face, and brings her hands back to the hem of her dress, undoing the laces.

The dress slides off her slender body, exposing her bare breasts. She bends down, sliding off her panties. I sit up straight. She steps forward and pushes me back down with her hands before grabbing the front of my pants.

She lets loose my penis from its sweaty cage. A pair of strong, but delicate hands gently prop it up, wrapping around the base, exposing just the bulbous head and part of the shaft.

Wet lips suck on the tip, quickly enveloping it with spittle. I crane my head up, but she pushes me down again, forcing me to stare at the ceiling. I bring my hands to her head. This she lets me do. I comb the hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears.

Her mouth departs, before I feel her nose on my balls. I push my pants further down my legs so I can widen them. A greedy tongue laps up all the sweat between my thighs before I experience the rapture of having my balls in her mouth again. Her hands stroke my shaft.

The music is still playing, and her actions are methodical and rhythmic, not frantic. I feel a trail of wet kisses climbing up my shaft until my glans is back between her lips.

She brings her lips down, bringing me deeper into her mouth. She sputters once, before resuming her descent. Finally, her lower lip reaches my scrotum, bringing my tip to the back of her throat. She gags, coughing, but not budging. She holds it in there before trying to move back and forth to help me cum.

I snap out of it, reminded of my guilt and shame, and slowly retract from her mouth as I sit up.

She looks up at me from the floor, wondering if I was unsatisfied. I lean forward and lift her up onto my lap, plopping a wet kiss on her lips. She leans in, pressing her naked body against me as our bare thighs make contact. My wet dick is sandwiched again between my shirt and her pubes. I stick my tongue into Rachel's mouth as thanks for the blowjob.

"On your hands and knees," I command her.

She does as she's told, and presents her rear end to me. Her heart-shaped ass had a hole right in the middle, and a tear-drop shaped piece of pussy underneath it. I spread them apart, parting the frilly lips slightly. Her pussy and asshole look like a neat, clean lowercase "i". I resist the temptation to slam my meat-bone into them.

In the dim light, I bring my face forward until my nose is almost against her pucker.

I pull back.

"?"

I decide to tease her a bit first, starting with kisses along her inner thigh.

"Ohh," she moans softly. She widens her gait to allow me more room.

I plant kisses all along her arch, coming tantalizingly close to her womanhood, but carefully avoiding it. By the time I start my second run, she's shaking impatiently.

"Patience, princess."

Silence.

I thrust my tongue at the crease where her pussy meets her leg, occasionally brushing the side of my tongue against her soft hairs. I take a few strands from her bush and twist them between my fingers, tugging at the skin. I wish the room were brighter so I could see what color they were.

Then I start kissing around the perimeter of her bush, along her soft, supple ass cheeks. She brings a hand back to push my head closer to where the money is, but I snatch it and plant it back on the mattress. She makes an annoyed sound as she exhales.

I take my erect penis and waddle close to her, rubbing the soft underside of my cock against her heat, coating it with slick juice. She gasps, fearful that I might stick it in. I finally decide to stop my teasing and face her pussy again.

I have no idea how to start, but I figure I'll try start with a quick lick.

Huh. I guess it's more of an acquired taste.

"Ah!" She stuffs her face into her pillow. Her butt jerks up for a moment, almost hitting my nose. I put my hands around her waist and anchor her in place before trying again. Rachel controls her body better this time. I try kissing it like it's a sideways mouth, but as soon as my lower lip brushes against the little stiff nib on the bottom (or top, from her perspective), she rears back again. I decide to focus there, and create a vacuum seal around it with my lips. Her muscles immediately contract, pulling the rest of her pussy inwards.

She squirms and moans into her pillow, before finding my hand on her waist and tapping on it. I pull off and look at her face.

"Go easier on that," she begs.

I take her advice to mean avoid it entirely, so I instead run circles around her entrance with my tongue.

"How...How do I taste?"

"Sweet, babe."

I'm lying. It isn't gross or anything, but it's not like I'd put it on my pancakes. Luckily it's not very strong and I could wash it away with my saliva.

I start thrusting my tongue into her, trying to locale the hole that I'll be putting my penis into later. I discover that it's very close to her asshole, so I try to make my tongue as long and stiff as possible to avoid coming into contact with that area.

"No, stop!" She gasps as I force her apart as wide as possible for maximum access.

In between two very muscular walls is the hole, and my tongue finds it's covered over by a thin membrane. I lodge my tongue in this shallow cavity, running it around and exploring it. She plops forward, no longer supporting herself with her elbows. I feel her fingers rubbing her mound beneath my chin. I grab them and pull them away.

"So I'm not good enough for you, hmmm?"

"You're not doing it right!"

I push down on her back and shoulders, arching her butt up before I go after her sensitive part, suckling on it like a calf on a teat. It worked before, and it's working now.

She yelps and mewls helplessly. Every time she steps forward to escape the intensity, I crawl in closer until she's up against her headboard, covering her mouth with her hands, failing to suppress her noisy moaning. I have to use my hands to keep her spread open so I can dart my tongue across her vagina, focusing on her little bump.

I hear the sound of door creaking open, followed by a soft gasp, but I don't turn my head away from the increasingly frantic girl in front of me. Rachel's muffled moans grow louder and louder until she screams into her pillow in a low, shuddering groan. Her uncontrollable hips buck wildly and her fingers clamp down on her crotch, squeezing out every last bit of her orgasm until she collapses on the bed, a sweaty, heaving mess.

I flip her onto her back and wrap my naked body around hers. Our mouths open for a passionate kiss that goes on until the album finally ends.

"That was awesome," she pants.

"Yeah," I lie down next to her, worming my arm underneath her head. We lay down like this, staring up at nothing. My erection is hard as diamond, but my legs are too sore to do anything. "I'm pretty tired, Rach. Let's go to sleep."

A soft hand clasps my rod.

"Don't you want to cum too? We can do....it, tonight. If you want."

I stare at her face. The whites of her eyes are still visible in this dark. I think carefully, giving voice to every instinct in my body.

Of course, I desperately want to have sex with her. Tired or not, I could push my body on for another hour and it'd still be great. Fatigue's not really an issue. But for some reason, I can't bring myself to say yes. I feel like it'd be selfish.

"We've got all the time in the world," I come up with at last. I actually would like to believe this is true.

"I want to enjoy every moment in our relationship. So let's make that decision when it feels right," I rationalize. My heart sinks to the bottom of my chest as these words come out, but part of me feels like it's the right thing to do. I remember feeling left out every time I saw a couple holding hands during my early teens, and I didn't want to skip past the sappy, childish romance phase in our relationship.

Her eyes stare back at me, before blinking in disbelief.

"Wow," she sighs, before planting a soft kiss on my lips. She nuzzles her face into my chest and pulls the blanket over us. "I understand," she gives me another chaste kiss, followed by another. Then another.

"You're so adorable," she says, planting another smooch. Her breath shudders and the air grows acrid with feminine tears. I envelop her small, shuddering form with my embrace as we tuck close together underneath the covers. Tears stain the base of my neck. I really didn't see this coming, but I'm glad this happened.

Finally, she wipes back the last of her tears and laughs through her nose. "You know, I'm really happy you said that. So happy it hurts."

"I guess this is what love feels like," I sigh.

"You said the L word," she giggles, bringing me back to our childhood. Things really have changed between us.

We close our eyes and let the darkness overcome us. The warmth of our bodies pressed together fill a void in our lives that we never knew was there before. Our hearts slow down and synchronize to a gentle pace. Rachel's small head rests lightly on my shoulder.

I exhale in relief that my nightmare from before never came to pass. My last thought puts a smile on my face: I'll never be alone again.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

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A/N: The record they were listening to is Dive, by Tycho. Kudos to any readers who were keen enough to figure it out using nothing but my terrible description. Chapter three is coming, but it will take a while