Reed and Kris's story continues in this second chapter and I want to take the opportunity to thank those of you that gave chapter one a high rating and followed me. I was encouraged and motivated to know people read and liked the story.
Disclaimer: this is a First Time story in a broad sense. If you are looking for a strict loss-of-virginity story, you may want to keep searching. That said, I don't think chapter 2 will disappoint.
Once again I want to thank Todger65 for editing my work and volunteering his time to help a growing writer.
If you enjoy this chapter, please don't hesitate to click on those stars and leave me a comment. I welcome all feedback. If you contact me I will be more than happy to send you a message when chapter 3 releases.
Enjoy!
***
"I wouldn't be a lesbian again," Kris said. I'd been looking up lyrics to a song and fumbled my phone. "Women are complicated and society is fucked."
I rode shotgun in her super-charged midnight-blue Jetta. I leaned down and found my phone hiding under my seat. We were en route to Kris's esthetician who she saw every other Tuesday. The sun floated high in a cloudless sky and the cracked windows sang a mild drone. Summer would be here soon and Kris and I would end our fitness class together. My heart lurched at the thought we might end too.
"Wait, what?"
Kris downshifted and the engine growled, tearing us past a grey minivan that had the audacity to go the speed limit. We vaulted back to ninety and Kris's eyes brightened.
"Don't get me wrong, women are hot. Much softer than men," she said.
"No, I mean—you were a lesbian?"
"For a year after college I lived with a woman. But men are more straightforward. Easier." At twenty, Kris took a four year break from college. "I got tired of going out with her and being judged."
"Oh." Auburn wisps of hair escaped her bun and lingered near the back of her neck. They frolicked in the wind from the open window and pleaded with me to come play.
"But I miss the sex. Most women don't want to fuck me once I tell them I have a boyfriend."
It had been several weeks since our intimate moment on her couch. She had waited until after I'd come into my boxers to tell me she had a boyfriend. I knew our friendship should change; I should withdraw from her. But I couldn't overcome her gravity. I saw her more, five to six nights a week. She said we were good friends—emphasis on friends. She still wanted me to cuddle with her though.
I opened my mouth, but words refused to form.
"Trevor knows and is okay with me fucking other girls." Trevor is her boyfriend. She told me he made good money as a night-time construction worker on roadways, possessed a very large dick and reached into the sky at six two. I hadn't met him.
"Oh." My hands closed into fists; I knew how to use larger words than 'oh.'
We drove south and the sun licked my right arm. I wedged my body into two-thirds of the seat to find shade; redheads have sensitive skin.
"Don't be so judgmental."
"I'm not."
"Well you look it." Her finger tapped the steering wheel.
I attempted to focus on her face and failed. Her ample breasts swelled out of a powder blue tank top. Long legs emerged from a pleated charcoal grey miniskirt and stretched down into her delicate feet. The white French tips of her toenails contrasted with her mocha skin and strappy black heels. Even her tapping finger emanated waves of sensuality that were, by some power foreign to me, palpable. Her glimpses were worse; they elicited an urge to be absorbed by her. I couldn't judge her—her attentions made me significant.
"I'm just surprised." My voice sounded too high.
The engine grumbled into the parking lot. I didn't want our conversation to end this way either.
Kris wrapped her hand around mine. "It's perfectly normal for couples to have open relationships. It makes them healthier." She dropped my hand in her lap and my cock hardened. She parted her legs and my hand sunk between her warm thighs. She cradled my neck with her hand and whispered, "Our rule is that he has to be there when I fuck other men."
"Oh." So much for using bigger words.
I wondered, not for the first time, if Trevor knew about me and what his girlfriend and I had done. I turned my hand and my fingers pressed into her thigh. She smelled of jasmine and musk. I stared at her.
"Yes?" she said.
"A couple weeks ago, on the couch—"
"We were just having fun."
"Oh, okay." I felt like I'd eaten something sketchy.
"And getting to know one another." She widened her legs. My pinky moved to the heat further up her thigh. My stomach settled. She sighed. "We're going to be late, let's go in."
My eyes adjusted to the soft office light. A young woman in her early-twenties greeted us. I'd been raised by my Christian parents not to have 'impure' thoughts, but I noticed her white blouse clung to her breasts. I tried to imagine her naked, but I conjured images of Kris instead.
"Good afternoon, Kris. Here for your 1:30 appointment?" The receptionist's cheeks dimpled when she smiled.
"You know I wouldn't miss a date with you, Jane." Kris pivoted towards me. With both of us in view, she winked. Jane's dark hair swept her shoulders when she giggled.
"You can go back now, she's ready for you." Kris moved away and Jane's eyes lingered on her. I thought I would sit in the waiting room, but Kris took my hand and led me with her.
Kris's heels sunk into the burgundy carpet that lined the hallway. Puckered depressions trailed behind her. We passed a print titled Venus of Urbino; a blemishless woman lay on a white sheet atop a scarlet cushion, exposed save for a hand between her thighs. Her eyes hosted an invitation and a puppy slept at her feet. I found it odd that a woman and child played in the background, oblivious to the nude woman behind them and unphased by the lewd exchange I engaged in.
Someone tugged my hand and I turned. Kris looked at me, one eyebrow arched and her lips lifted on one side. I had stopped at the nude painting. My cheeks burned.
