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I wasn’t aware of when he came. I also wasn’t aware of him pulling out.
I certainly wasn’t aware of him coming on my belly.
Not until my mind came back online, and Flint was on his side rubbing his release into my stomach.
“I think you might’ve broken me,” I found the breath to say. “Like seriously, I can’t make my body move. I can’t think straight. I’m not even sure I’m on this plane of existence any longer.”
He started to chuckle, and then suddenly we were up and moving, me over Flint’s shoulder, straight into the bathroom.
We took a quick shower, and soon I found myself back in my bed, making love to the beat of a man that was Flint, all over again.
This time we managed to put on a condom, though.Chapter 10Why doesn’t Aldi’s have their own brand of nuts? They could call them ‘Aldi’s Nuts.’
-Flint to Camryn
Flint
I was wrong, earlier, too.
Having her hand wrapped around me wasn’t ecstasy. It was beautiful, yes. But having her pussy wrapped around me? Yeah, that was better. Ten times fucking better.
Hell, when I was bare in her, I knew that I’d never be the same man again.
Who knew that a woman’s pussy—Camryn’s pussy—would feel like I’d never want to leave?
But it did.
Which was why I was reluctant to leave the next morning.
But, since I had responsibilities at home, I left her on her front porch at five the next morning with a kiss on her mouth and a smack to the ass.
Once I got home, showered, and got Dooley straightened out and loaded into my cruiser, I made it back to the gym in time to teach my six o’clock class.
Then I went to the Dollar Store and bought a case of water and some buttermilk so I could make Camryn some pancakes.
I figured if I showed up at her place with my offering to make her breakfast, she’d allow me back inside.
When she did, I’d take her back to bed for a couple of hours, and I’d make her pancakes to replenish her energy.
At least, that’d been my plan.
A young kid foiled that plan when they stopped me outside of the store with a wary look on his face.
“Yo, Officer Flint,” a young kid that I recognized but couldn’t place his name said. “How’s it going?”
He looked bad.
“What’s up, kid?” I asked, feeling something close to dread start to filter through me.
The kid licked his lips, looking really nervous. “Uhhh,” he hesitated. “If we found out something about someone, and we didn’t tell the, errrm, police about it, and something bad happened…what would happen?”
For some reason, I understood what was said.
“I guess it depends on what happened, and how severe it was.” I paused. “Is it something that’ll affect others?”
The kid licked his lips. “No.” He paused. “Yes. Maybe.”
I frowned. “Then I guess as long as it’s not going to affect others, then I wouldn’t think it’s your duty to report it unless you fear for someone’s life?”
I really wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say in this instance.
Was he wanting to know if it was okay that he didn’t tell some girl that her boyfriend—the kid’s friend—was cheating on her? Or was it worse? Like the kid was about to commit suicide, and the kid wasn’t sure if he should tell an adult?
I really didn’t know.
“Uhh,” he hesitated. “I guess it’s not that bad.”
I gestured with my chin. “You know that the school has this new system in place called ‘Devil Dog Personal Proactive Campaign,’ right?”
The kid frowned. “No, what’s that?”
“It’s a website designed for you to fill out a form, submit it, and do so anonymously. There you can tell the people that run the program what’s going on. Such as a kid brought a gun to school and you found out about it when he showed you. Or, something equally as bad like you don’t feel safe in the school because you’re being bullied by Johnny Appleseed.”
The kid’s eyes widened. “Where do I find that?”
“The school website has it right out on the main homepage. You’ll see it in the bottom right hand corner,” I explained.
I’d also be looking for the tip/confession/problem.
I was one of four people that monitored it. Me, the principal, the vice principal, and the superintendent.
Normally, I wasn’t the one that sifted through the submissions, but since I could, I’d periodically check throughout the day just to make sure that this kid didn’t submit anything.
Likely it was just something silly that teenagers thought was really bad but actually wasn’t, and I was overthinking it, but on the off chance that it wasn’t, I wanted the kid to have options.
Sometimes, kids nowadays communicated better through the computer, and if that was what it took to get this kid to talk, that was what I’d do.
That had been the entire point of the computer program.
