Nellie and the Scare

"It's negative," he said, loosening his grip. "Look."

I'd missed the fact that he was holding the test and stopped trying to pull away as he showed it to me. There was one strong pink line in the box, not two, and I looked at it for a long moment before plucking it out of J.P.'s hand to study it more closely.

I stared at it for long enough that he shifted uncomfortably.

"Nellie?" he said quietly. "I'm sorry. It was stupid for me to—"

"Yeah, you're a fucking idiot," I said. "Apology accepted. Where's your garbage can? I want to throw this out and never speak of it again."

He let me do the honours of throwing away the test and wisely chose not to remind me that we'd have to speak about it to at least a few people, namely his sister and my dad. We both washed our hands and he turned to me, looking somewhat ashamed.

"I really am sorry," he repeated. "I took it too far."

"You did," I said. "And I just said I never want to talk about it again, so let's forget it."

"Yeah, but—"

"Make it up to me, then."

Relief and adrenaline were controlling me. I should have been angrier with him for pulling that stunt, but the anger was dwarfed by the lifting of a massive weight I'd barely been aware was on my shoulders. I grabbed the front of J.P.'s shirt and pulled him towards me. He stumbled just slightly, catching himself just in time for me to kiss him hard. He inhaled sharply, leaving a trail of cool air floating around my lips, the surprise at my sudden action obvious.

I couldn't help smile against his lips. It wasn't often I surprised J.P.; normally, he was the one shocking me. He challenged me, caught me off-guard, said things I never quite expected. I wasn't used to it. Most of the time, I was the one saying abrupt things, making inappropriate jokes, taking astonishing actions. With him, I had to up my game.

Sometimes I hated it, but it made those moments where I could truly surprise him feel even better.

His arms found their place around my waist as I clutched him to me, my body humming with energy. I sighed against J.P.'s mouth and felt the corners of his lips flick up. He clearly felt relieved, too. Whether it was because the test was negative or because I'd accepted his apology, I didn't know.

It didn't matter.

"I think dinner can wait for you to make it up to me," I said.

"I think you're right, babe," he replied, using his hips to nudge me towards his bedroom.

When we got to his room, I pushed him to sit on the edge of the mattress before straddling his lap, pressing myself against him as we kissed again. His hands travelled along my sides and back, first above my shirt and then under as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric. I made a soft noise as his fingers trailed up my spine, shivering as he traced patterns on my back and pushed his hips up. I could feel his cock twitch as he hardened, the bulge tantalizingly stiff against me.

"I want you, Nell," he whispered against my mouth.

"Patience," I teased, kissing him again.

"No, I mean I want you."

His lips pressed against mine hard, cutting off any response I might have had. He probably knew what I would say: I'd tell him not to say that, I'd reiterate we were friends, I'd call him crazy or I'd laugh and we'd make a joke about it. It didn't matter that for the first time, I didn't want to react that way.

It scared the shit out of me, but I might have wanted him, too.

He tightened his grip around my waist and leaned back, bringing me down over top of him before turning so I ended up beneath him. His knee nudged my legs further apart and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. Immediately, his hands found my wrists, fingers curling around them and forcing them back on the mattress. I couldn't do anything except let him kiss me as he pinned me to the bed, his body pressed hard against mine.

After a few moments, one hand left my wrist to slide beneath my shirt. I left my arm where it was, my chest rising and falling with excited breath as he gripped my breast. My nipple hardened through the thin fabric, jutting up into his palm as he squeezed. He didn't spend long there; after just a few moments, he released my other wrist and tugged my shirt up over my head before unhooking my bra. His mouth immediately went to my nipple and I moaned as he sucked it, then gasped when his teeth just barely grazed the sensitive nub. While I was still feeling the shivers of pleasure twisting through me from that, his other hand unbuttoned my jeans and slipped into my panties.

Fingers traced along my pussy lips, stroking my skin lightly and teasing my folds as moisture collected between my legs. I squirmed as one finger dipped into my entrance, then moaned as he collected my juices and spread them along my slit, his finger circling my clit as he finished. He repeated the action, his tongue circling my nipple in unison with his ministrations on my clit, and by the third time he did it, I wanted him completely.

My opportunity to take back control came just moments later; J.P. withdrew his hand from my panties and sat back on his knees to take his shirt off. I sat up, tucking my legs under me and earning a surprised look from him as I started unbuttoning his jeans.

"In a hurry?" he asked, smirking.

"I want you," I replied plainly.

It worried me how much he seemed to like hearing that. I wanted J.P. to fuck me. I wanted his cock, I wanted him to lick my pussy, I wanted him in a very real, very physical way. Any other definition of "want" was buried, something I would never admit, something that simply wasn't possible. I could only hope that the flicker in his eyes as I said I wanted him was one of desire, not one of... something else.

His hands met mine on his jeans, tugging them down quickly and revealing the thick bulge tenting his boxers. I licked my lips and helped J.P. repeat the action on me; together, we pulled off my jeans, leaving me in just my panties. Before I could remove them, too, he pulled me in for another kiss, our thighs touching as our bodies met again. Strong hands gripped my sides, then my ribs, then cupped my breasts again. I ran my hands down his chest and stomach, then travelled a bit lower to stroke his cock through his boxers. He groaned and pushed his hips forward unconsciously, grinding his cock into my palm.

I kissed him again, inching forward until he had no choice but to lie back. Once he did, I straddled his hips, grinding my fabric-covered mound against his erection. He groaned and I hummed softly, appreciating the feel of him even through those layers of fabric.

As our lips met, he squeezed my ass, making me jump forward in surprise and causing us to both hiss in pleasure. He did it again, then dipped his head lower and pushed me forward so he could suck on my tits while he pushed his cock against me.

The feeling of it was mesmerizingly good. I sighed, rolling my hips against him, loving how hard he was and loving how wet he made me. My panties were soaked, sticking to my pussy lips as I ground my body on his. He circled my nipple with his tongue before kissing up the curve of my breast to my collarbone. I giggled as his tongue traced a familiar pattern there, kissing along the tattoo I'd gotten at the end of the summer.

He shifted suddenly, pulling himself down on the bed so his head was between my legs. Before I could even react, his hands were on my hips and guiding me down on top of his face, then he was pushing my panties to the side. The sound I made was one of shock and pleasure as his tongue dipped out, eagerly pushing into my pussy and teasing my wet entrance.

"Holy fuck," I whispered, and I felt him laugh.

His tongue worked along my slit before focusing on my clit; I groaned and his hands cupped my ass as he licked my pussy greedily. Steadying myself on the headboard, I shifted my hips slowly, using his face selfishly.

J.P. seemed to like it quite a bit. It was probably a good thing, seeing as he was the one who instigated it, but I couldn't recall a time that I could hear him groaning against my pussy like that. He'd eaten me out before, many times, but he seemed to particularly like something about me using his face as a chair. I glanced over my shoulder when one of his hands moved off my ass, just in time to see him gripping his cock.

I moaned softly, grinding my clit against his tongue as I watched him touch himself, wishing I could reach back and do it for him. When I tried to move, however, his hand tightened on me and held me in place.

"I just want to suck your cock," I said, hopefully loud enough to be heard through my thighs that covered each of his ears.

He seemed to hear me, making a groaning sound, but his hand continued to squeeze tightly and he licked me even more vigorously. I shuddered, distracted by the change in sensation and shifting my hips again to increase the friction on my clit even more.

I never did get to turn around so I could suck J.P.'s cock while he ate me out. He increased the pressure on my clit and I shuddered again. My legs started to tremble, and both of us knew that meant I was going to come soon. All I could do was hold on, craning my neck so I could watch as his hand increased in speed, jacking himself off as he passionately ate my pussy.

I loved it. I loved watching him, loved that he was so turned on by what he was doing that he had to stroke himself. I loved that he wouldn't let me do it myself, that he was so dedicated to my pleasure that he was taking care of both of us.

I tried to tell myself it was just that: I liked watching him, I liked how hot it was, I liked seeing his hand moving on his cock and knowing he was so turned on because of me. There was nothing else there: it was just attraction, just sex, just a craving for satisfaction.

The fact that it was a lie had to stay buried. We were just friends, and that was all it would ever be. I told myself that was all I wanted, and I told myself that was all J.P. wanted, too. In any case, it wasn't something to think about while I was sitting on his face. What I wanted at that moment was to come, to gush against him and feel my entire body burn with pleasure.

Every nerve seemed to tingle with anticipation. His tongue flicked against my clit and his fingers dug into my ass as I got closer and closer, and when I finally gasped out that I was coming, I heard J.P.'s muffled groan as my body shook on top of him. I couldn't stop myself from grinding against his mouth and tongue as I drew out every second of that orgasm.

When I finished, tiny trembling aftershocks still bursting through my limbs, I lifted myself on my knees just enough for J.P. to wriggle out from under me. He left a last lingering kiss on my pussy before sitting up.

"Does that count as making it up to you?" he asked, grinning as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

I grabbed him and kissed him, the taste of my pussy still strong on his lips and chin. He kissed me back heatedly, groaning as I reached down and gripped his cock. I stroked it lightly as I caught my breath, then tugged his boxers the rest of the way down before removing my panties.

"Lie on your back," I murmured.

"What if I want you to lie on your back?" he asked, teasing arrogance weaving through his tone.

"Then I guess you're going to be jacking off instead of having me ride your cock," I said. "If that's the case, maybe I can sit on your face again while you do it?"

J.P. grinned, nipping lightly at my lips as he kissed me again. "Tempting, babe, but you're right, for once. I want that pussy."

"'That' pussy?"

Another sharp nibble at my lips made me gasp before he spoke again. "Your pussy. I want to fuck your pussy."

I pushed lightly on his chest, urging him to lie back. As soon as he had, I straddled his hips, reaching between us to guide his cock inside me. He inhaled sharply as my entrance stretched to accommodate him, sighing as I lowered myself down on his straining cock. Once he was fully inside me, he pulled me forward, his arms around me and hands pressed against my back. For a moment, he just held me, then kissed me again.

When I couldn't stand it anymore, I shifted. His arms were still around me, just loose enough to allow me movement, but holding me close so he could keep kissing me. His teeth grazed my lower lip, I inhaled sharply, and his arms tightened again as he began thrusting up.

There was no way to express just how amazing J.P.'s cock felt, how I could feel every ridge and bump of him, how the walls of my pussy gripped him. My body was jostled, my breasts bouncing against his chest as he pumped up into me, and all I could do was hold on and let him take control.

"You feel so good." His voice was just beginning to take on that hint of a French accent, that little indicator that he was losing control. "Nell, you feel so fucking good."

"You do, too," I breathed, and he groaned as his arms tightened.

"Come for me, babe." He moved one hand up to my neck, pulling me forward to kiss me gently. "Let me feel you come."

I whimpered softly, clinging to him as he drove himself inside of me again and again. It was all I could do, really: I had been the one to climb on top of him, but he was the one in control. We rocked together, breathing together, holding each other as pleasure began to ripple through me. It gathered inside me, drawn in from every limb, heat and electricity and thunder vibrating through my entire body.

"Come for me, Nellie," he whispered again.

For him.

It was inaccurate: I didn't do it for him. He made me come, he drew it out of me, he brought me to states of unimaginable euphoria again, and again, and again. Even though I was completely distracted by the pulses of pleasure wracking my body, my mind wandered. I couldn't help wondering if being with J.P. would really be so bad. If he could do all that for me as just a friend, how much more could there be if we were more than that?

I pushed the thoughts from my mind, squeezing my eyes shut. I loved sex; I loved fucking; I loved the way I felt when I was with other people in such an intimate way. J.P. might have made me feel good physically, but there were far more reasons we shouldn't be anything more than friends.

Moaning softly, I focused on the way my body felt, driven only by my absolute need to come. My nails dug into his shoulder, his breath puffing against me as I gasped for air. My body began to tense, my muscles clenching, my thighs beginning to quake against him. I cried out each time I exhaled, my mouth dropping open. I felt J.P. smile, felt him chuckle as his lips moved from my mouth to my neck, and then I was coming.

He stilled for just a moment, letting me explode around him, before thrusting up even harder than he had been. My pussy gripped his cock and my hips bucked, grinding myself against his body and dragging out the sweet sting of pleasure as long as I could. Just as it began to fade and the white light of bliss gave way to consciousness again, he came. His arms tightened around me and he grunted, thrusting as each spurt filled me, his cock twitching inside me.

When he finished, I pulled myself off his lap and flopped on the bed. He held me to him, not moving as he slowly regained his breath. For a long time, he just held me, and I rested against him, listening to his heartbeat and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I could get used to it.

J.P. represented everything I hated. He represented the life my mom didn't want me to get stuck in, the life that my father cherished. Sure, he might have been a better person than my dad was, but J.P. was still a part of that life. I didn't want that.

And even if I could get past all that, I didn't want commitment. Relationships were hell. They ruined good people. I didn't have to look much farther than my mom and dad to see how badly they could go. Dad and Kimberlee were another example. Then there was Sydney: seeing my best friend broken by some asshole was heartbreaking, and it could have only been worse for that asshole's wife. My track record wasn't much better: I'd tried to be in a relationship with someone, and I'd broken his heart. I carried the guilt from that for far longer than I wanted to.

Relationships were stupid. I didn't want that, and I didn't know why anyone would. On top of ruining each other, I didn't want to be stuck with one person. I liked having sex. I liked trying new things. Giving that up to be with one person would be like going to a buffet and only eating salad.

I reminded myself of all those things as J.P. held me, telling myself again and again that I was just overemotional, that I was tired, that I was feeling vulnerable after a difficult experience. It was really hard to believe that when I had strong arms holding me, a steady and soothing heartbeat drumming in my ear, and J.P.'s breath breezing gently against my head.

I could get used to that.

It was that thought that terrified me the most. Of all the things I'd faced in the past few days, the idea of being in a relationship was the thing that scared me beyond belief.

I don't know if J.P. sensed my sudden fear. If he did, he didn't mention it. All he did was tilt my head up, kiss me softly, and then nip at my bottom lip.

"I don't know about you, but I'm totally in the mood for some lukewarm pad thai that's been sitting on my kitchen table the entire time we've been in here."

"Mmm, how fancy," I replied. "You sure know how to treat a girl right."

"Well, if the way you were moaning while you were sitting on my cock is any indication, I definitely do."

He grinned, and I couldn't help but laugh, and the terror faded away just a little more as he kissed me.

**

Thank you to Bebop3, chasten, norafares, and OneAuthor for editing and providing feedback. Special thanks to A, K, Paul M, and Kevin Matheny, and to everyone for reading. The final story of this particular plotline will be posted in November 2020.