THE LOVERSHIP:
An Erotic Discovery
By
Jazzie Dixson
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Jazzie Dixson on Smashwords
The Lovership: An Erotic Discovery
Copyright © 2011 by Jazzie Dixson
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This book is a work of erotic fiction and the combination of various intimate experiences, common to many. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Adult Reading Material
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Physical intimacy is meant to be enjoyed and shared. Sharing the tales between these two characters, as lovers, seeks to pay homage to the joy of those experiences. The day will come when we may not be able to look on our personal experiences of sexual freedom with fondness. When that happens, at least I want to be able to read about it…and smile!
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THE LOVERSHIP:
An Erotic Discovery
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Chapter 1
I admit I had never really thought about him “that” way. I mean, we were friends—close friends—but I really never thought he would even be into me. I was a pretty average college co-ed: attractive, funny, reasonably well-known, and smart. He was an athlete...a football player…a starter. Blaze Fowler. Handsome, chiseled, and with a smile that could melt chocolate. As a college sophomore, he had one year under his belt and had proven he deserved a starting spot on a division one college football team. He was an all-state quarterback in high school, so the spotlight of being a star performer was nothing new to him. He was a freakin’ rock star jock, for goodness sake! With all that, anyone would expect him to have an attitude that reeked of arrogance. But he didn’t. He was a genuinely nice guy with a great personality and a way of making you feel warm and well-received. He was a marvelous listener, an insightful contributor to the conversation, and an expressive talker. Unlike a lot of men, when you were talking to him, you knew he was in the conversation with you.
So I never thought about Blaze as anything more than a friend. I was a tutor for the athletic department and a junior classman. He was a freshman—required to attend study hall with the team—who happened to need help with a math class. I began as his tutor, he was my student (tutee). We became friends easily, often talking through tutoring sessions about all kinds of things: his high school girlfriend; the devastation and drama of my ‘first love,’ games, classes, and blah blah blah. Through great chemistry and easy conversation, we became friends—often hanging out and being seen together around campus. In the summer following his freshman year, he stayed in my dorm room once. He needed a place to crash while in town for some quick business, so I let him sleep on my floor. He asked if he could kiss me. “Why?” I said. “Because I’m just curious what your lips feel like.” So I leaned down from the bed and our lips met. His were soft and full—warm. After a minute or so, I pulled away, satisfied that the curiosity had been met. I slept soundly, and I thought he did, too. He would tell me years later that he was up all night thinking about that kiss. But I never really did think about it again…until one night.
It was a new semester, and Blaze returned with a vengeance. Now a sophomore, he returned to campus with his new car. Nice. It looked good around him, too. I admit I did feel pretty special that he tracked me down to take me for a ride. We were good friends so, him looking for me to show me the car wasn’t unusual. When he found me, we settled back into our effortless bond, laughing and enjoying one another’s company. We drove around the small college town for a while, then decided to head out to Brower Lake: a quiet area always beautiful and serene. A great place for conversation…
Chapter 2
We sat talking about how our summers had progressed…there was no tension—just our usual easy, breezy. I talked about the bad break-up with my first love that ended with the previous school year. He talked about the final breakup with his high school girlfriend. Through a lull in the conversation, he turned toward me… “I have always loved your lips,” he said. “They are so sexy!” He leaned closer to my face, his fingers resting under my chin. Without thinking, I leaned into the kiss. As his lips met mine, it was suddenly very hot in that car! We kissed deeper and deeper, breath heaving, finding a natural flow together. Our tongues danced perfectly together, heads turned at just the right time, just the right reaction by each to the other’s movement. Soft and tender nibbles were mixed with forceful passion and ecstatic moans. This was no ordinary ‘first kiss.’ The passion between us grew, reaching to get closer to each other, but the angle was all wrong. My mind was racing: What am I doing? This is not good! Aw, man! I stopped, pulled back, placing a hand in front of my face. I felt myself floating, getting lost in those kisses. “I need some air,” I mustered. “I need to get out of the car.” I opened the car door, almost shaking, and closed it behind me. With a few steps, I stood at the rear passenger side hoping my calmer sense would deliver me from something that was heating up real fast. He exited the car and came around to where I stood. He stood in front of me, now touching my shoulders, holding my hands, caressing my face. He was so in my space! I felt dizzy. His voice was speaking to me but he sounded far, far away. His hands were on me, and my mind was racing again. Every touch was electric, and his face was leaning closer to kiss me again. I wanted him to touch me; I wanted him to kiss me again; but—at the same time, didn’t I want it all to stop?
All the while, I was becoming more aware of the pulse between my legs. His voice—low and hypnotic—was seducing me, lulling me as his mouth came closer to mine. This time, when our mouths met, I lost my breath. He devoured me—we each other. My hands, acting on their own, reached for his shirt, pulling it from its tucked in position. My fingers unfastened the buttons of his dress shirt as my hands reached under his t-shirt. I wanted to touch his bare chest. He held my face, his mouth ravaging my cheeks, my face and my neck, stopping to nibble, gently bite and suck, applying just the right amount of pressure. Creating a low moan from deep in my throat, I could hear him sigh over and over again, both of us falling faster into a frenzied, soon-to-be naked obsession.
I could hear only our breathing as I reached for his belt and buckle. My mind was gone…my thoughts were racing…drifting outside of myself, I was drowning in passion, hungry to taste him. My fingers fumbled with his belt, finally exposing his underwear and the hardness that struggled to get free. He pulled to raise my mini-skirt skirt over my hips, working to maneuver himself inside me—and I wanted him inside me desperately. Still standing outside, posting against the car, we were oblivious to anyone who might be watching. What a show we were about to give them! Awkward positioning, after a few failed attempts, with neither of us wanting to break free of the other, and when I was sure I could wait no longer, I guided him to a spot on the ground, under a nearby tree. With our lips never leaving each other and his pants now at his ankles, he laid down on his back in the rugged dirt. I pulled my skirt up over my waist and sat straddled his beautiful body.
With longing now possessing us both, I removed his ample dick, taking a moment to caress it in between my fingers, enjoying the hardness and the feel of it. Hovering over his body on my knees, I slid my wet panties to the side, and guided him into my soaking pussy. Our eyes closed, we both held our breath and released in a flood together as I settled on top of him. We began to move together…in sync...like the piston of a perfect machine. His hands gripped my ass and pulled me forward…my hands crawled under his tshirt and groped his muscular chest. I raised up…down…side to side…forward and back. Umm, ohhh, ohhh, ooo…the sounds of lust lifted in the air as we both fell into the moist heat…feeling so good. Moving, sliding, gliding over his dick, on the brink of a certain cum. And then, I did it—I opened my eyes. Seeing him beneath me, his face drenched in ecstasy, eyes closed, his mouth crying out for deeper, my mind screamed at me, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
Suddenly, my mind snapped—NO!—and I jumped up off him—his body, his fabulous chest and that beautiful dick. A part of me was determined to take off running down the street. What had I done?! I was destroying a beautiful, wonderful friendship. Here was this great guy—younger than me—and right now, I’m a mess. In the last few months, my mind was just a mess. I was still reeling from the pain of a broken heart, and I was in a bit of man-hating phase. How could I ruin one of the truest friendships I’d ever had?! He is my friend and now he is going to learn to hate me, too!! How could I have done this?!
As I retreated, my skirt still exposing my naked ass to the world, I turned to leave, or run. In a swift motion, he recovered and leapt up from the ground, reaching me before I backed into the car. With my hands covering my face, I repeated, “Oh no! Oh no! This is bad! This is bad!” Holding me with one arm around my body, the other arm held onto his pants. In that same seductive tone, he was speaking to me, reassuring me that everything was okay: “No, it’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t cry. It’s okay.” I felt bad. I felt so wrong. Crying into my hands, into his chest, I was wrought with guilt, really upset…But through the tears, I could still feel…his body…under me…his dick…buried inside me. Damn. Damn. He felt so good. He filled up every part of me. I was still wet. Guilt. Lust. No, guilt. No, lust. My mind was going in one direction while my body was screaming in another.
We composed ourselves and redressed our clothes. I felt and looked like a train wreck. He opened the door and I eased back into the car. “Are you okay?” he asked. I couldn’t find the words to answer. Without waiting any longer, he started the motor and began to drive me home.
How’s that for a mood killer! A sobbing chick feeling guilty for giving you a really hot piece of ass, for sliding up and down your pole, moaning like porn star, and kissing you deep enough to get your dick really hard, really fast. Yea, that’s a real special moment isn’t it? As he drove, we mostly road in silence, no doubt each of us thinking of all that had transpired that evening. Occasionally, he reached over to touch my leg or rub my face. He felt bad, too—even if it wasn’t for the same reasons. Blaze would later—years later—tell me that it took him a year to get up the nerve to ask for that kiss over the summer. He would recount that, even on this night, the best he had hoped for was a really solid make-out session. He enjoyed that earlier kiss and wanted to enjoy it again for a longer period of time. He never actually thought he would be blessed with sex—hadn’t even dared to consider it. And here I was embarrassing the whole “older chick” crowd with my ridiculous fears and doubts. Even though the difference in our ages was only two years, when you’re under 25, it seems like a lifetime of disparity. He was only a sophomore. I was already a senior. Now, in the blink of eye, I had all these regrets. Well, I didn’t really regret anything, I just didn’t want to lose a good friend over sex—even if it was really, really, really good sex!
Chapter 3
We ride in silence. My mind is definitely conflicted and his probably is, too. I am torn between why did I let this happen and oh man, I really want to feel him again. As we get closer to my apartment, I resolve that I will get out of the car, go upstairs and that will be the end of it. We don’t even have to talk about what happened. In fact, I’ll wait a few days before I talk to him again and then we’ll just pretend like it didn’t even happen. Yeah. That’s it. Just stop it right here and now. That’s exactly how I am going to handle this situation. After what seemed like a 100-mile drive, he pulls into the parking lot of my complex and parks the car. We sit there for a moment. He’s talking to me, but I really don’t know what he’s saying. I can hear his muffled words, but my mind is speaking louder to me, saying just get out of the car and go upstairs…alone, by yourself. I am trying to listen…but somewhere else, there’s another voice…low, hot, wet…saying to me I can still feel him. When he was inside me. It begins a faint pulse…like a heart beat…low, in my oh my. All I can hear is the sound of my own breathing. And then his voice breaks through: “Let me walk you upstairs.”
We get out of the car. I feel like I am moving in slow motion, still dazed, but maybe I look normal. We walk the three flights upstairs to my apartment…lots of time think. But I don’t have a plan yet. The ‘go-upstairs-alone’ idea has fallen apart. Will I be able to stop him at the door—especially when all I want to do is take him inside, tear his clothes off and put his dick in my mouth! “Too strong,” I think to myself. I open the door, he follows me inside…and to my bedroom. We are standing there. His gaze burning a hole through me, trying to detect if I am going to be alright, if I have any more tears to shed. Then, there’s that voice again, talking me out onto that sweaty, sex-fueled ledge. It’s not hard to convince me to do what I already really want to do. My body is taking over like the Incredible Hulk, telling me to ‘do it! Help us out, Jazzie girl. Everybody’ll have a good time! Stop fighting it! Do it! Dooo it!!’ No need to repeat it a second time. So my mind—now on the same page with my body, willing and in agreement, drops two more words: The Shower. And there is no more resistance left in me…
Chapter 4
I meet his gaze, and he knows. Knows that I am back in this thing. Knows that I have resolved the guilt. Knows that I am still hungry to finish what we started under that tree. He begins to kiss me…in that way that makes me start to sweat, that makes us both start to breath heavy, start to moan again. He is on my neck and now I am on his. Hearing him suck the air between his teeth, there is no need to delay. And I begin to remove his shirt, unbuckle his belt, pull his t-shirt over his head. Standing there, bare-chested, he is removing my shirt, kissing me still, unsnapping my bra. Hands now enjoying the pleasure of my breasts. As he takes one of the nipples into his mouth, suckling and then biting…the air leaves my body…I step back from him, removing my skirt and panties, and walk to the bathroom. He follows as I lean in and turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature just right. The water is flowing freely, just warm enough to be hot, and cool enough to stay warm. I step into the shower and reach for him as an invitation to join me. I should be thinking ‘I’ve never done this before’ but I’ve dreamed about it and thought it could be really sexy…with the right person…
We step into the steamy water. The ratio of his leg length to mine is just right. If my legs had been any shorter, it wouldn’t have worked because he would have to tiptoe—that could be dangerous. We lather each other, being careful to mix the sudsy bubbles with water so our hands glide easily over each other: he rubs the soap into my breasts, caressing my nipples and squeezing them enough to make me scream. I lather his chiseled chest returning the favor of pinching his ultra-sensitive nipples. My hands descend lower across his abs and then on to massaging suds the length of his shaft. His eyes are closing; head rolls back and moans begin to rumble from his throat. He sets me on fire by so freely giving in to the pleasure. We embrace and kiss passionately, ravenous, hungry—tongues dancing between heated breaths, steam rising around us, warm-hot water spraying us like a waterfall. His hands are all over me, seizing my ass, massaging my breasts, moving between my legs into my hot center. I am in ecstasy, drunk with passion and starving to have him enter me. In my right mind, I don’t want him to pick me up in the shower—too dangerous—so I turn my back to him after rinsing soap off the front of his body.
I lean forward, bending slightly so the water is cascading between us, and he enters me from behind. He glides smoothly into my wet pussy, and I stand up straight. His hands are busy now—touching, groping, grabbing my breasts—holding my hips as he pumps in and out of me. Even in the steam of the shower, I can tell we are sweating as our movements become more vigorous. I turn my head so he can kiss me deeply, licking and sucking on the most-tender areas of my neck and shoulders. Leaning forward…the water washes between us, cascading through my hair and down my neck. Leaning backward…his hands take my nipples between his fingers. The warm-hot mood of the water feels like he is cumming all over me. His fingers playing over me find my swollen clit. He strokes it gently and subtle sighs escape me…with my eyes closed, I am outside of myself, melting into him like molten fire: the sweat, the breathing, the steam, the water, his moans, my moans—our ecstasy is growing, and I feel him swelling inside me. He is about to cum; I am about to burst in orgasmic pleasure…ummm, he’s speaking to me again…talking me into rapture…telling me how good it feels…begging me for more…and I am calling his name…wanting to scream but still just a bit too proud. We blow together, hearts pounding, in a final explosion of heat, delight and cum. I pull myself from underneath the water and stand up to rest against his body. I am careful to keep my back arched so his dick is not spent from me. His hands caress my face and neck as his warm lips ravage me with kisses. As his well-screwed shaft falls from my flooded snatch, I turn and we kiss passionately, stepping under the spray of the water…
Epilogue
With a final rub-n-suds, we wash the delicious sex from our bodies and exit from the shower. Still, legs shaking from the intensity of the experience, bodies quivering from the explosive release, we return to my bedroom and collapse, spent on the bed…exhausted from our first time as lovers…
END
Thank you for taking the time to read my short story. It is the first episode of several featuring the lovers, Blaze Fowler and Jazzie Dixson. You may review additional installments and other titles at https://sites.google.com/site/jazziedixson. Your feedback is encouraged, welcomed, and appreciated.