Stay Sweet Ch. 02

"Instead, I begged her not to do this to me. Crying to her, 'Oh, you need to believe in us, believe that we're meant for each other, wah-wah-wah.' But she wouldn't have it. She felt like the fire was burning out and there was no rekindling it. So...then it got dark."

Ji-yeong blinked, her eyes stretching out. "Did you hit her?"

I quickly shook my head. "Words were said, though. I started with 'spoiled fucking whore' and went down from there." I took a deep breath. My friend reached out for my hand. "Ji-yeong, I made her cry."

She squeezed my hand. Said nothing.

"There's a point to this...unburdening, I guess: You said that if he changed you, that means he won, but relationships always change you. They have to. You don't let somebody get that close and not have it alter you on a molecular level. So really, he 'won' the minute he got that close to begin with. The way I see it, it's all about what you're going to learn from this experience. And if you end up never letting anyone else get close to you again, if this makes you bitter, or scared, or lonely, or whatever, that means in some small way, he'll have always owned you. That, to me, would be the real loss."

A small grin crossed Ji-yeong's face. She shook her head. "See, that's where you're wrong." She turned back on her side, revealing once again the front of her delectable body. "Because someone else did get close."

"Oh really?" I said, realizing what she meant and playing along. "What's he like?"

"Well, he's really sweet," she said, brushing my cheek. "And he's genuine, and he's so smart, too."

"Sounds like the kind of guy you need."

"Yeah, but he's also really handsome..." Her hand drifted downward, brushing past my pecs, "...with an awesome body..." past my abs, "...and a thick, beautiful dick." You get the idea; my erection had flagged a fair bit by now, but it was rapidly inflating back to life in Ji-yeong's tender grip. "And that's the kind of guy I want."

"I bet he'd love it if you climbed on top of him."

"Ooh, good idea." She rolled on top of me, pressing her beautiful breasts against me while we kissed a little more, grinding her body against mine for the sensation of her hard nipples and soft flesh dragged across my skin.

She rose up, our bodies joined at the pelvis. "You know what else? He's so...ooh wow, this is different...he's so patient, too." She brought her right hand up to her face and licked her palm multiple times. "I almost bit his dick off a couple of times trying to suck it," she continued, reaching down to stroke me back to full hardness, "but he still didn't kick me out of bed."

"Well, blowjobs might not be your thing, but handjobs definitely are."

I wasn't blowing smoke. If Ji-yeong sucked dick like Charles Barkley played golf(*), she at least stroked dick like Barkley must have played basketball. Perfect pressure, perfect rhythm, used her thumb to lightly stroke the head while the other hand gently played with my balls. It was scary how this was almost as good as being inside her.

(*There was an SNL sketch in 2010, for all the old people wondering where that reference came from.)

She smiled. "And he's quick to give out compliments, too. That's the kind of guy I..."

I could almost tell how she was going to finish that sentence. Part of me really wanted to hear it. Most of me knew that it shouldn't be thrown around so lightly.

"...the kind of guy I deserve," she finished, and I smiled.

Of course, "almost as good as sex" doesn't mean "just as good," as she casually reminded me by guiding herself onto my dick once I was nice, wet, and hard.

"Oh my God," she laughed, looking down at me, "this is so surreal."

"But you like it, right?"

"I love it," she exclaimed, placing her hands on my pecs before she started making the first tentative up-and-down motions of her ride. Her breath caught in her throat. "Oh, wow! Oh, this feels so much better!"

"Really?"

Ji-yeong could only nod as her motions slipped into a steady bounce, pumping my cock in and out of herself, pushing against a spot that seemed to make her giggle and giggle in disbelief until it started to make her moan, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was about to see something special.

The game no longer had a purpose, but I still had to play. "I love the way your tits bounce when you fuck me," I said, reaching up, cupping them from underneath. She thrust her chest out to accommodate. "They're the prettiest titties I've ever seen," I continued. "So soft, so warm, so round..." I flicked my thumbs across the fat crests of her breasts. "...topped by those dark, juicy circles that keep begging to be licked and sucked."

"Mmm! Well, I love how you sucked on my boobs earlier...aaah...but I really love the way you feel in my hands; so warm, so solid, so strong." Her hands moved to my sides, just under my armpits; her grip squeezed repeatedly. "I love feeling your skin stretch when you breathe and your muscles shake when your heart beats. I love feeling how alive you are when you're with me." Her hands then moved to my shoulders and she leaned in close, her voice getting ever more raw and thick with need as she humped herself closer and closer to the edge. "And I love looking into your eyes so much, more than I can ever tell you, more than you can ever know. I love knowing that you love being in this with me."

"I love..." I caught myself. "I love it so fucking much, Ji-yeong."

"Oh fuck, I love it too!"

Ji-yeong leaned forward and just went for it, her pussy pulsing against me as she bounced and bounced, hair flying every which way, crying out with every downstroke, holy shit I just unleashed an animal and she was ravishing me, I wasn't sure I'd survive this but what a way to go! She was panting, screaming, unhinged, increasingly delirious from her pleasure, breath heavier and raspier as she pumped faster and faster losing more and more and more breath and then she gasped loudly and stopped.

Her pussy clamped down and she started grinding me in jerky motions, squeezing the holy shit out of my shoulders as tears welled up in her eyes and she gasped repeatedly from each delicious tremor that ravaged her insides. Then she fell on top of me and I embraced her sweaty body, feeling her heartbeat thump against my own while her hot ragged breath blew repeatedly and loudly into my ear.

Slowly, her heart calmed down. Her breath softened to quiet, gentle breezes. And her limbs began to show signs of strength as she moved to cradle my head and kiss me.

When she broke the kiss, she looked down to where we were still joined, and said "You're still hard."

I nodded. "As soon as you feel up to it, I'll finish."

Ji-yeong didn't respond, at least not verbally. Her eyes rolled up in thought as a curious grin crossed her face.

"What? Are you going to leave me high and dry for destroying your blowjob-related self-esteem?"

"That's a fun idea," she said. "But actually, I've always wanted to see it."

"See what?"

"What it looks like when a dick ejaculates."

Having watched my fair share of porn I was starting to like where this was going. "Really? How do you want to do that?"

"You said I'm good at handjobs, right?"

"You're exceptional at handjobs, it actually blows my mind."

"Really?" Ji-yeong exclaimed with a laugh. "Okay! So I'll just do that until you're ready to pop."

"Where do you want me?" I had a second to think about it and I was sure she'd ask me to stay there, keeping her clean of any cum save for her hands. What I wasn't counting on was Ji-yeong's love of knowledge, which she could never really turn off, and—as she would later explain—how much easier it would be to eyeball distance and thus get a sense of pressure from shooting forward instead of upwards.

"On your knees," she said, rolling onto her back. "I wanna jerk you onto me."

My first thought was to approach her from the side, aiming at her tits. The main argument against cumming on someone, besides "ew," is that it can be seen as an act of dominance over the recipient. I figured Ji-yeong had more than her fill of those, so I thought standing to the side as opposed to over her would mitigate that. That seemed to ring true...but on the other hand, it was an awkward position for Ji-yeong, since your arm is more inclined to pull forward than to the side.

"Actually," she said, "you should probably straddle me." Practicality won out over feminist theory, and I positioned my knees on either side of Ji-yeong's stomach, my throbbing cock pointing between her tits. Again she wet her palm—both of them, actually—and reached down for me, taking precious hold and coaxing me forward. Her left hand tickled my balls to a rolling boil as she stroked and stroked with her right, meanwhile her head was tilting forward, watching with a scientist's fascination and a lover's anticipation.

That got me going more than anything Ji-yeong did with her hands, as talented as they were. Knowing she was waiting for me, imagining her delighted reaction, picturing how she'd look dressed in my white, it wasn't long before I was quietly panting and cursing.

"Is it coming?" she asked, and I nodded vigorously and she picked up the tempo, whispering "Let me see it, let me see it, let me see it..."

My first shot blasted out of my cock and spattered up her sternum. She flinched from the hot contact, crying out for more. My dick obliged, spewing forth another creamy gout that landed near the first. Ji-yeong moaned again, directing my hose left and right to cover either breast with sperm, giggling as the shots continued to pile up, criss-crossing her upper body. It wasn't really that much—my last come was only sixteen hours ago—but it was enough to impress someone who hadn't had such an experience before.

When I was drained, I smeared the last drop of my cum across the top of her stomach, and stepped back to admire the sight I'd helped create. Ji-yeong's hands fell away from me, landing outstretched. Her head dropped back as well, her thin dark hair fanning out around her. Her thick, creamy breasts were stretched thin by her relaxed pose, and the warm glow of the diffused lanterns and the cool flickering of the TV fireplace danced against the translucent glaze of my passion across her golden skin.

"I look beautiful," Ji-yeong said, correctly, and I bent down to give her a kiss.

When I finished, I savored the vision before me one last time and said "Stay right there. Don't move."

"As if there's anywhere else I'd rather be right now."

Leaving her with my warmest smile, I crawled out of the blanket fort and jogged into the bathroom. I grabbed a small basin from below the sink and started filling it with warm water while I pulled a clean washcloth from the bathroom closet. With the basin filled, I left the bathroom and slipped back into the fort, basin and washcloth in hand.

Ji-yeong was drawing little circles in my cum, playing with it between her fingertips. She brought them to her lips, but recoiled a bit from the taste; oh well. She looked over to me, put two and two together, and lit up when she realized she what I was doing.

Wringing out the washcloth, I started at her neck and worked my way down in short strokes, slowly, lusciously cleaning me off her. Each stroke left behind a thick path of clean, wet skin that shined modestly in the low light of our fort, with an occasional rivulet of moisture running down the side of her body. Thinking about the feeling I get whenever I step out of the shower, I'd lightly blow air onto her damp skin after each wipe, chilling her, making her swoon. I cleaned her, neck to toe, then moved back up to give special attention to her pussy, bring her to one last little come before it was time to settle in for the night.

Moving back up, she spooned me—I used to think of it as "Thunderstorm Position" but the breasts pressed wonderfully against my back had symbolized something far more adult and complex than mere comfort—and kissed me tenderly on the cheek. After a few moments, she said "I loved tonight. Thank you."

Again, I knew what she wanted to say. Again, I wanted to say it too. But again, I think we both knew how irresponsible and insane that was.

Brushing the hand wrapped around my chest, I said, "I loved tonight too," and closed my eyes.

And once again, the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep: "Stay sweet, Pete."

* * * * *

I knew I had to open my eyes once I smelled pancakes, but it took a gentle shake of my shoulder to finally pry me awake.

Ji-yeong was kneeling over me, eyes bright, smile wide, still gloriously naked. "Get up, sleepyhead," she exclaimed, "I've got breakfast!"

There was a serving platter in front of her that carried two short stacks of pancakes on thick paper plates and two plastic cups of OJ; plastic forks, knives, syrup, and butter were nearby. We fixed our pancakes up as we liked them and dug in.

"So I was thinking," said Ji-yeong, between bites. "Your parents won't be home until Tuesday, right?"

"Yeah, that's the plan."

"So...this might sound a little manic, but what the heck: Let's just stay in here today. No phones, no clothes, we just watch trash on Netflix, fool around, and leave only to use the bathroom or bring in food."

"So, Netflix and Chill."

"And sex, yeah."

"That's what 'Netflix and Chill' means."

"Seriously?" Ji-yeong laughed and shook her head. "You're going to have to teach me all the hot lingo I apparently missed out on."

"They're called 'memes' now, and there's so many of them!"

"Jerk." Ji-yeong gave me a light shove; I playfully shoved her back.

The moment after, I remembered the eggshells under my feet. Ji-yeong didn't seem triggered, but I couldn't help but apologize anyway. "Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah," she said, "don't sweat it."

"Good. I'm sorry if I'm being a pain in the ass, I'm sure treating you like fine china is kinda shitty in its own right, I just—"

"It's really shitty," she said. I didn't make a sound; I just leaned in and listened. "When you have to keep asking me 'Oh, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Are you mad at me?' every time you get a little rough, as if it's black and white and trust isn't a factor in these things, it feels...weird. It feels like I'll never be normal again."

"I'm not trying to—"

"But you know what?" Ji-yeong cut me off. "I can handle it. Because I spent the last five, six years terrified of speaking out of turn, and I'll take 'not feeling normal' over that, any day of the week. With you, I know that if I need to say something, I trust that you'll listen and take it to heart. That's why when you go over the line, I'll know that you didn't mean anything by it. What I wish you'd do is stop trying to step carefully around me and trust that I'll forgive you."

I nodded. "Okay. I'll try."

And I thought that would be it, but Ji-yeong kept looking at me like something else was bothering her, and she finally said, "Can I ask you something about Bernadette?"

"Sure." My stomach dropped a little; was she about to decide that what I did was unforgivably awful?

"Did you ever apologize to her? After you said whatever you said?"

I shook my head. In my panic to assuage my guilt, I started rattling off all sorts of excuses. "I wouldn't know how. Even if I did, though, what good is an apology gonna do at this point? She doesn't want to hear from me ever again. How could she?"

Ji-yeong sighed. "You know, I've had these two thoughts ever since I got on my plane here. One is that Chad was a terrible person. The other is that we could've been happy if I treated him better. Every time I take a breath, these two thoughts in my head go to war with each other, and most times, the part that blames myself wins. If Chad was still alive, if he showed up today and told me 'I'm sorry, it was never your fault,' do you know how much better I'd feel?"

Ji-yeong brought her arm around my shoulder and pulled me in close. "You're not a bad guy, Pete. You felt hurt, and you lashed out. It happens. But you need to own up to it—not for you, but for her."

"I guess," I said, with a solemn nod. I really, really did not want to open this wound up when it was probably scabbed over, even for a proper apology that was more than owed.

"Tell you what," said Ji-yeong. "You write her a letter, and hand-deliver it to her parents' house. I'll even go with you and back you up. If you do that, I'll go to one therapy session."

My eyebrows jumped. "Seriously?"

"Just one," said Ji-yeong. "No promises that I'll keep going. I've been thinking, you know? Maybe there's some stuff I don't know how to deal with, stuff that I should talk to someone about. But the only way I step up is if you go first."

"All right," I said. "Shake on it?"

Ji-yeong held out her hand. I grabbed the plastic bottle of syrup, the cap already flipped up, and squeezed a thick, sticky amber jet onto her chest. "OH MY GOD, YOU JERK," she screamed, futilely trying to block the syrup with her hands.

I dropped the bottle and pinned her to our little bed. I said, "What're you gonna do about it, Pancake Tits?" And then I dove down to lick up the mess I made.

She assured me, repeatedly, that she was okay with this.

* * * * *

Mom and Dad never suspected a thing.

We did as we said we would, alternating between Netflixing and Chilling all of Sunday and well into the night. Monday we took down the fort and washed all the sheets, spending the night together in bed. Tuesday my parents came back, and to them it just looked like we had a nice weekend together that led to a major breakthrough. They were relieved.

I wrote the letter to Bernadette, like I promised. I made it clear that I wasn't looking to start anything back up, that I'd just treated her terribly, and when you're wrong, you apologize. Ji-yeong even went with me when I went to deliver it, waiting in the car while I handed the letter to her mother, who promised to pass it along.

A week after, with my end of the deal held up, Ji-yeong went to her one therapy session with someone Mom knew in school and recommended. As someone who was very open—at least with me—I thought she might do really well with it. But when she came back that afternoon, I was still waiting with baited breath to see how it went.

"Interesting," she said. "Really, really interesting."

"Are you going back?"

"I think so, yeah."

I was going to fistpump so fucking hard once Ji-yeong left my sight. "Cool," I tried to play it. "Are you feeling, like, better about yourself, or more...not that you need to tell me what you talked about—"

"It's okay," said Ji-yeong, laughing. "No, it's not that I feel better, it's just...there's a lot I need to unpack. More than I thought there'd be. I actually feel kinda dizzy."

"You're gonna lie down?"

"No, I think I just need a shower right now," she said. "I'll figure out where to go from there." She reached up and mussed my head. "Go play videogames or something, I'll be fine."

So that's what I did. Actually, that's what I was doing before I heard Ji-yeong come in. I went back upstairs, grabbed my controller, switched my headset back on, and unpaused Destiny. "Hey, I'm back," I said. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," said Bernadette. "How'd it go for her?"

"Okay, I think. Don't know if I can say more than that, but she says she's going back, at least."

"That's so good to hear," she said. "It really sounded like she needed help."

It's hard to explain exactly what happened with me and Bernadette. Obviously we were cool; she re-friended me on Facebook the day after I delivered the letter, invited me to get drinks with her that night. We ended up on this bar-hopping odyssey where we quickly squashed any remaining hard feelings before catching each other up on our lives.