8. Jack [M/F]

Sometimes, you meet people, and you want to fuck the everliving shit out of them.

This was not the case with Jack.

Jack was timid and strange and wore glasses. I’d never kissed anything with glasses before. We’d known each other for forever, grew up down the street from one another. Our parents were friends, and we even had Christmases together in school – but I was going through a revolution, and he had been background noise. Fast forward three years, and we run into each other after college.

Jack is now adorable. Every smile I evoke from him is a victory. Jack also has the greenest eyes I’ve seen in my life. Holy shit. Were they this green when we were kids? His eyes flicker between the sky and my lips and our coffee, as we talk about the lives we’ve led and the hearts we’ve broken. Jack is adorable and strange and wears glasses. Weeks go by, and the closer we get, the more I like him. I hate it. It’s amazing.

Sometimes, you meet people, and we want to fuck the everliving shit out of them.

This became the case with Jack.

The only thing I craved more than his body was his mind. He made me better, he made me lighter. He made me see the beauty around us, and I tried to not fall in love with him. And then I fell anyway.

But Jack only wants to be friends. Because we’re humans and we’re all broken, Jack is a broken human. And he’s a broken human because of a girl with soft skin that didn’t love him enough.

So now, Jack doesn’t want my love. Jack doesn’t want his name on my lips, or his worship in my eyes. Instead, Jack wants to leave. He wants to move to a city that fills his hunger. He doesn’t have the time for love, he doesn’t have the time for me. So he calls us “just friends,” and I ache for him when he isn’t looking.

It wasn’t just a sex thing. It was a “I want to hold your face and sing you my favorite songs” thing. I was so fucked.

Months pass. Jack is everything. He holds my hand and makes me laugh and I feel alive. Every time we sit next to each other, I feel like I’ll die if I don’t touch him. And I can’t touch him, so I’m dying.

Warsan Shire said we shouldn’t walk miles for people who don’t hold our feet in their lap. Jack holds my feet in his lap.

He loves me. I know he loves me. I know he loves me, because the way he looks at me scares me shitless. I know he loves me when he touches my cheek and we have dinner with his parents. I know he loves me when I fall asleep in his chest, to his hands in my hair. I know he loves me when I’m watching a movie and he’s watching me.

Jack is leaving. And I need to tell him that I love him, but he doesn’t need to hear it. He needs to leave, he’s suffocating in this town. So I swallow my love and be his friend.

Now, it’s our last day. We’re sitting on my deck, playing catch with my dog. It’s a cool evening, and the sun is going down as we drink to Jack’s dreams and pretend we aren’t crumbling.

He’s behind me, grabbing a drink from inside the house. I’m getting settled on the porch with a blanket, and i look over to see Jack watching me.

“What?”

He doesn’t say anything, continues staring intently. I turn back around, and lean against the post. Jack walks over, and bends down to bring his face close to mine. My first reaction is defensive, backing away from the sudden invasion. But I see his face, and the way he looks at me almost brings me to tears. He looks at me with kindness, with gentleness. He looks at me with love. It’s all I want, but I know it won’t last. He doesn’t move. His hand is on the post I’m settled against, and we stare at each other, inches away. Jack is smiling, which is both comforting and terrifying. All I can think about is how badly this could end.

But I lifted my chin and parted my lips, and suddenly Jack’s hand was on my neck. He rested his forehead against mine, and my body trembled when our lips brushed. Once. Twice. I wrap my hand around his neck and catch his lips between mine. I kiss him with more patience than I’ve exuded in my life, softly, with hardly any pressure. I can feel his hesitance, and I’m trying not to break the broken boy, so I pull back. I’m frustrated and confused and even a little pissed, but as I lean away from him and settle back, I try to be selfless. Jacks still crouched down, and he looks at me intently.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Wating.

He gives me a small smile, and leans in again. This time, he softly kisses my forehead before straightening up and walking back into the kitchen. I groan, annoyed and hopeless, and I hear him laugh behind me.

I turn around, craning my neck to see his stupidly beautiful smile. “Was it that bad?”

“Awful,” I reply.

He keeps grinning at me, as he takes a swig from his beer. I turn back to the dog, and I can hear him laugh behind me. “Are you pouting, babe?”

“Shut up, friend,” I reply, without turning around. I hear him laugh again, and my blood boils at his outrageous insolence. Fuming, I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my chin on my knees. I feel Jack moving behind me, before he walks back and drops on to the porch next to me. He puts his hand on my head and loses his fingers in my hair. “You alright, babe?”

“Fuck off, babe,” I murmur, still hugging my knees to my chest as I try to ignore the shivers he’s sending through my body. I can feel his eyes on me, and just as stubbornly, I refuse to look at him. His hand slides down to my neck, and rubs my shoulder. Subconsciously, I open my mouth and sigh. I hate myself for it. He chuckles. “Look at me,” he says. He waits for me to turn my head, and when I don’t, he hooks his arm around my ankles and drags me closer.

I’m angry and annoyed but completely frazzled, and doing a shit job at hiding it. But he pulls my legs into his lap, and cups my face in both of his hands. He stares at me intently, and then leans in to kiss my cheek. “Hi,” he says, resting his forehead against mine again. My lips part, and I rest a hand on his chest, the other on his neck. This moment is filled with the most anticipation I’ve felt in my life. I’m in love with him. Human beings are weak, we aren’t meant to beg for love. But I’ve been on my knees, howling for weeks, praying he’d turn around. And now, it’s too late. If I kiss him in this moment, it’s going to hurt so much more when he leaves.

I kissed him anyway.

Softly, with barely any pressure. Jack deepens the kiss, opening his mouth, and he begins to rub my shoulder with one of his hands, as the other cups my face. We’re kissing, and I’m almost afraid to touch him, because if this is real, and it gets taken away, it’ll break me But I touch him. I feel his heart under my hand and his tongue in my mouth. We pull away again. His hand is on my waist, his forehead rested against mine again. We’re breathing heavily, and my body begins to feel warm. Jack kisses me on the nose, and suddenly yanks my hair back. He covers my neck with his mouth, and I begin clawing at his shirt. He ducks his head so I can pull it off of him, and stands up as I toss it aside. He extends a hand, and his lips meet mine the instant I’ve straightened up. We kiss sloppily, hungrily, satisfying an ache that’s been brewing for months. He pushes me against the post, and as I press my body into him, I feel him hard beneath his shorts. Wildly turned on, I start rubbing up against him. Alternating between my hand stroking his cock above his shorts, and pressing myself into him. Jack has brushed the straps of my top off my shoulder, and has been kissing my collar bone and massaging my tits. But even feeling my vagina rub on his cock through our clothes gets a groan from him. He bends down, grabs me around my thighs, and I wrap my arms around his neck as he lifts me up. He rests my back against the post, and I feel his dick hard against my cunt. Jack is still kissing my neck, and I unwrap an arm from around his neck to get it out of the strap still keeping my top up. Once it’s brushed off, I push down my shirt, exposing my bra, and quickly push that down to my stomach as well. My nipples instantly harden, not only from how horny I am, but from the evening’s cool air. Immediately, Jack begins kissing my tits, and his mouth finds my nipple, and I feel his tongue circling it. I moan, and arch my back to push my tits further into his face. My hands are in his hair, and I force his face up so I can kiss those lips.

Jesus fucking Christ, those lips.

Jack pushes off against the post, and starts carrying me inside. I’m kissing his neck, and as I nibble his ear, I hear him breathe “Jesus fuck.”

“What?,” I’m taken aback.

“I can’t…uh…I can’t walk if you do that.”

I laugh. Jack doesn’t like being laughed at. He takes two large steps and throws me onto the couch. I smile up at him, pulling him closer to me by his belt. He brushes my hands away and pushes me back into the couch. Jack kneels down and easily separates my legs, adjusting himself between them. Again, I try to sit up so I can kiss him. He entertains it for a few seconds, before pushing me back again. His hands are warm, and as they rub my thighs, our eyes lock. Jack’s hands are under my skirt, and they’re pulling my underwear down. I arch my body so he can slide it off, pulling my skirt down with it. As he throws them aside, I sit up and properly pull off my shirt and bra. I settle back in, and find Jack looking at my soaking wet pussy. He smiles. I’m dying for him to touch me. But he takes his time, kissing the inside of my thigh, occasionally reaching up to massage a boob.

Then, suddenly, I feel his breath on my vagina, and the cool air sends goosebumps through my skin. His mouth is on me, and I’m thrashing against the couch when he takes my clit into his mouth and gently sucks. My hands are shaking as I try to find something to hold, settling on the pillows around me, I clench for dear life. I feel Jack put a finger in me, and then two, and I’m going to fucking cum already. I’m sweaty, my body is arching, and I can feel an orgasm building inside of me. I’m moaning, and all of my sensations are so peaked, I can hardly open my eyes. I can’t think, I can’t stop feeling. Jack has a rhythm going, and I feel the kisses on my thighs turn into bites. I feel the orgasm starting, and I forget everything else. I forget about the boy crouched between my legs or how loud my moans become. My eyes close, my body arches, and I cum so hard that I feel it rolling through my body for what seems like minutes. I’m still grasping the pillows, and as my orgasm subsides, my body instantly feels limp. My back relaxes, and I’m aware of how sweaty I must’ve made my couch. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, and I feel my chest heaving. I feel the cool air brushing over my skin, and realize we had left the doors to the backyard open. My finger is burning. I lift my arm and try to focus on my hand, realizing I broke my nail from how hard I was gripping the couch. I tilt my head to look at the pillow, and instead see Jack. He’s leaning against the coffee table, watching me. He smiles. I was in love with him. We stared at each other for what seemed like hours. It must’ve been minutes. In fact, I know it was minutes, because I fucked his brains out very soon after. He left the next morning.

It’s been 24 hour since this happened. I’ve been sad all day, and drowning myself in cheap beer all night. They say home is where the heart is. When it’s three am and I’m drunk on longing, where do I crawl back to if you’re 4,291 miles away?

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Right. Sorry for the abrupt ending. There was more, it was a long night. But I'm too sad/drunk to finish now. Criticisms always welcome, although I'll warn that this isn't indicative for my best writing. Yeah. Love sucks, folks. Don't fall in love. Great orgasms, though. 10/10.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3kctko/8_jack_mf