Read Online The Girl who Couldn't Come by Joey Comeau - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joey Comeau
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I get scared.
We bike out to the dark and find a perfect spot. We’re in a field with a hill blocking the streetlight from the road, the best place for us to stretch out and watch the sky fall. We lay down side by side on the grass and dirt, watching the sky. Beside me, Clay says, “There!” and I see it too, the first streak of thin light.
We watch for a while, until I get scared thinking about the yawning void of space and the maddening smallness of our solar system in it and the smallness of our planet in that solar system and of my own voice in the dark and I almost say, “I love you,” right then and there, but instead I pull him on top of me.
I like having his weight on me. I like the feel of his breath against my cheek and I like the feeling of being trapped, too. Pinned down. He kisses me and smiles, then tries to roll off me. I hold onto him tightly.
He pins my wrists to the dirt. He stretches me out so my belly’s exposed and he kisses my neck. He puts his mouth right up against my ear and says, “Nobody can hear you out here. Cry for help all you want.” And I struggle against his grip. He pins my wrists with one hand and with the other he pulls my belt open, shoves his hand down to wrap cool around my cock and I say, “No.” And I try to pull free.
We forget all about watching the stars. He kisses me and I struggle against him just enough. “Let’s move,” he says. There’s a tree here. We stand up and we kiss in the moonlight with the stars falling and no cars anywhere and oh it’s all very perfect and romantic and all I can think about is I want him inside me. I want him to press his finger inside me.
He pushes me against the tree. I spin us so that he’s against the tree and I put his hand in my hair and make a fist of it. He’s smiling. He forces me down to my knees and I squeeze the front of his pants. Gripping a cock through them that isn’t fully erect yet, but doesn’t really need to be. I pull at the button.
I open my mouth, looking up at him, and he takes my hair in both his fists and shoves my face down on his cock. My lips are forced open. Then further. I’m still struggling, my hands waving helplessly in the air.
He’s hard now. I make a choking sound as he reaches the back of my throat and I struggle. He pulls my head back to let me gasp for air and to force me to look up at him. He spits on me. His spit is thick on my face, and he says “Whore.” He shoves me down on his cock again, fucks my face while I dig my fingers in the bark of the tree, the zipper of his pants cutting against my lips and cheek, again and again. Then my hand is up his shirt, pulling at his nipple and leaving streaks of dirt on his chest while he uses my mouth. Then he pauses.
“Is this okay?” he says, looking down, and I can only nod.
Yes.
I want him to come on the ground here in front of me, or to come across my lips. I want him to push my face into the dirt and pull my pants roughly down just far enough so he can get at my asshole. My knees are wet and cold through my pants.
Clay pulls me back by the hair and forces me to look up at him again.
“My turn!” he says.
And so I twist his arm behind his back and push him against the tree with his shirt pulled up. The bark is digging into his chest, and I’ve got his pants pulled down so I can get at him. My free hand is wet with my own spit, my finger pushing at his asshole. I use my body to hold his arm twisted between us. My teeth are tearing at the condom wrapper. I wrap my hand around his throat while I enter him. “If you make one sound, I’ll kill you,” I whisper in his ear.
When I come, I panic a bit, because I can suddenly see everything. I have my hand around his throat and I feel like I am just returning into my senses. Did we go too far? But Clay reaches up and kisses me on the cheek and then on my mouth and he says, “You’re beautiful.”
Afterward, we watch the night sky, still half-naked. His
We bike out to the dark and find a perfect spot. We’re in a field with a hill blocking the streetlight from the road, the best place for us to stretch out and watch the sky fall. We lay down side by side on the grass and dirt, watching the sky. Beside me, Clay says, “There!” and I see it too, the first streak of thin light.
We watch for a while, until I get scared thinking about the yawning void of space and the maddening smallness of our solar system in it and the smallness of our planet in that solar system and of my own voice in the dark and I almost say, “I love you,” right then and there, but instead I pull him on top of me.
I like having his weight on me. I like the feel of his breath against my cheek and I like the feeling of being trapped, too. Pinned down. He kisses me and smiles, then tries to roll off me. I hold onto him tightly.
He pins my wrists to the dirt. He stretches me out so my belly’s exposed and he kisses my neck. He puts his mouth right up against my ear and says, “Nobody can hear you out here. Cry for help all you want.” And I struggle against his grip. He pins my wrists with one hand and with the other he pulls my belt open, shoves his hand down to wrap cool around my cock and I say, “No.” And I try to pull free.
We forget all about watching the stars. He kisses me and I struggle against him just enough. “Let’s move,” he says. There’s a tree here. We stand up and we kiss in the moonlight with the stars falling and no cars anywhere and oh it’s all very perfect and romantic and all I can think about is I want him inside me. I want him to press his finger inside me.
He pushes me against the tree. I spin us so that he’s against the tree and I put his hand in my hair and make a fist of it. He’s smiling. He forces me down to my knees and I squeeze the front of his pants. Gripping a cock through them that isn’t fully erect yet, but doesn’t really need to be. I pull at the button.
I open my mouth, looking up at him, and he takes my hair in both his fists and shoves my face down on his cock. My lips are forced open. Then further. I’m still struggling, my hands waving helplessly in the air.
He’s hard now. I make a choking sound as he reaches the back of my throat and I struggle. He pulls my head back to let me gasp for air and to force me to look up at him. He spits on me. His spit is thick on my face, and he says “Whore.” He shoves me down on his cock again, fucks my face while I dig my fingers in the bark of the tree, the zipper of his pants cutting against my lips and cheek, again and again. Then my hand is up his shirt, pulling at his nipple and leaving streaks of dirt on his chest while he uses my mouth. Then he pauses.
“Is this okay?” he says, looking down, and I can only nod.
Yes.
I want him to come on the ground here in front of me, or to come across my lips. I want him to push my face into the dirt and pull my pants roughly down just far enough so he can get at my asshole. My knees are wet and cold through my pants.
Clay pulls me back by the hair and forces me to look up at him again.
“My turn!” he says.
And so I twist his arm behind his back and push him against the tree with his shirt pulled up. The bark is digging into his chest, and I’ve got his pants pulled down so I can get at him. My free hand is wet with my own spit, my finger pushing at his asshole. I use my body to hold his arm twisted between us. My teeth are tearing at the condom wrapper. I wrap my hand around his throat while I enter him. “If you make one sound, I’ll kill you,” I whisper in his ear.
When I come, I panic a bit, because I can suddenly see everything. I have my hand around his throat and I feel like I am just returning into my senses. Did we go too far? But Clay reaches up and kisses me on the cheek and then on my mouth and he says, “You’re beautiful.”
Afterward, we watch the night sky, still half-naked. His
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