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I could feel his thighs tensing as he lifted my knees up in the air to cradle my legs in his arms. He threw my ankles over his shoulders and gripped my hips, grinding into me as hard as he could while focusing on the growing sensation of joy. I felt a tingle in my gut as he pumped and started groaning louder, not caring if anyone heard us fucking. My sounds caused Riley's face to twist, his mouth permanently fixed open while his rhythm became erratic. I started bucking and howled while arching my back, the head of his cock hitting my favorite spot deep inside me. As my orgasm came in rolling waves, he pulled out of my sweet pussy and stroked his cock until his hot cum covered the entirety of my stomach. The sticky mess was delightfully warm against my skin, the texture thick and gooey.
After my dizzying high settled a bit, my gut reaction was to just hop off the car and find a rag to wipe myself. I was sure Riley had somewhere to be and my buzz was fading, so I wanted to find something else to ingest. I started to sit up, but was met by Riley's lips that were still wet with my juicy fluid from ten minutes earlier. I couldn't help but lick it from his face. Our tongues dueled briefly until I felt his cock poking me again.
“He's pretty active,” I joked while leaning my forehead against his. “We could go for round two later.”
Riley smiled at this suggestion, his teeth pearly white and remarkably straight inside his mouth. I couldn't help but kiss his lips again.
“You feel good. I want to take you home.” Riley said while helping me off the car.
As much as I had wanted to go home with that kid, I couldn't stop chasing my high. I wanted to be messed up and disassociated from the world because I just wasn't happy where I was. My mother had abandoned my real father for someone else and I couldn't handle it emotionally. It still felt weird. Anything I could do to rid myself of that feeling was totally welcome, including screwing a stranger at a party on someone's car. I would have gone home with him, but I didn't want to belong to anyone tonight. I just wanted to party.
Very kindly, I declined his offer and we cleaned up before returning to the crowd that continuously asked where we had been. I found something to drink and something to smoke, hoping it would keep me from remembering anything else about the world. I'm eighteen, drop dead gorgeous, and absolutely free of responsibility for the next couple of days. I was ready to get lost.
Chapter Two
My hedonistic tendencies had finally gotten me grounded. After encountering Billy in the living room and getting chastised, I was sent to bed with the ridiculous sentence of being grounded for two weeks. I had to spend the next two weeks without sex, drugs, or any sort of booze to calm my system. What was I supposed to do with myself? A girl my age had nothing better to do than go out and explore the world, especially with summer already hot in motion. I wanted to go to the beach, discover someone's body, and maybe get a tattoo. It was all part of me growing up, so I didn't see much harm in it.
“You're going to ruin your body if you abuse it,” Billy had said during his speech. “You should respect yourself. Take care of yourself. Partying is fun until you have an accident.”
I didn't want to hear it because he wasn't my real father, but I knew better than to say that to his face. Instead, I stomped off in quiet acceptance of my death sentence and holed up in my room where I ranted on social media about my lame parents. I wasn't typically such a brat, but I felt so stifled being in the house all the time. I had to do something or I would just go crazy. Going out into the yard wasn't as great as taking a walk through town where at least I would get noticed by somebody.
After about a week of going stir crazy, Billy approached me as I was watching TV with a plastic bag in his hands. I studied him with some curiosity before turning my attention back to the tube. I didn't exactly want to be bothered. He sat next to me even though my energy was warning him to leave.
“Anna, I know it's been rough lately,” he said. “I can't imagine how it must feel to have your family separate and live in different towns. I know I'm not your re
al dad, but I care about you and I want you to be safe.”
I picked up the remote and started flipping through channels, his little speech beginning to cause a knot to form in my throat. What did he know about how I felt?
“I got you something so you wouldn't be so bored here at home,” Billy said while placing the bag on the couch next to me. “I hope you like it.”
As soon as Billy left the room, my eyes started to well up with tears. I looked down at the bag that had now become a blur through the salty fluid gathering around my vision. It was paint. A whole set of paints and brushes with canvas were sitting inside the bag. I had never shown much artistic inclination, but then again I had never tried my hand at it. I quickly looked around to make sure no one would see me grab the bag and then ran off to my room to start experimenting with the set.
It was intensely therapeutic to sit and spread the thick cream against the white cloth, following my hand with my eyes and watching as shapes came into view. An hour had passed without me noticing and suddenly I was hungry. I stared at the completed painting before me and smiled. I hadn't really liked Billy before, but this gift certainly made me warm up to him. Maybe if I was good I could reduce my sentence, get out on good behavior. I washed my hands and went to the kitchen to prepare some food to satiate my gut that was now growling beneath my skin. I accidentally ran into Billy who was trying to get something from the fridge.
Awkwardly, I jumped back and rubbed my arm, unsure of exactly how to thank him for the paint set. I shrugged and opened my mouth in an attempt to speak, but nothing came out. Tension filled the air, something I'd never felt around him before, and I found myself stammering nervously while trying to reach for the kitchen table.
“You're welcome,” Billy said before I could make any words come out. “I'm glad you like them.”
Now I was utterly speechless. A kind gesture like that wasn't something I was accustomed to, so it was surprising and lovely whenever it did happen. It wasn't like I was used to being treated poorly because I got plenty of affection and attention from friends. I just wasn't used to him being so kind to me. Initially, our interactions had been amiable and sparse, especially with the wall I put up between myself and him. That same wall was now crumbling beneath the sweet gift that he had placed on top of it, a strange and poetic way to make me come around.
What game was he playing at?
“I know I can't be your real dad, but I'd like to at least be a father figure to you. Is that okay, Anna?” he asked, imploring me with his eyes.
“I think I might like that,” I responded with some hesitancy. “But it might take me some time.”
“I look forward to building a relationship with you,” said Billy. “And I hope you do, too.”
The comment had left me feeling rather strange and I retreated back to my room where I picked up the paints to keep exploring. The stroke of the brush was almost like caressing a new lover's body, feeling the curve of their hips beneath my fingers as I tried to embrace every inch of their skin. I moved my hand across the canvas in long strokes like I would move my fingers between a woman's lips to massage her clit, the resulting circles emanating a glorious mixture of color.
If only every interaction felt this way. I loved being with different people, but something was lacking in these encounters. It wasn't love or desire. I had plenty of desire to last for days and enough love to care about those people, at least in that moment. I could feel that strange emptiness grow in my gut as if an expanding void, perhaps needing to be reflected upon further. I didn't like analyzing my own behavior. It made me feel like something was wrong. But how was I to improve on my pleasure without further investigation?
Catapulting me from my thoughts was the sound of the front door slamming shut, something I hadn't heard since my mother and my biological father separated. It could have just been my imagination or maybe I was having hallucinations from my drug withdrawals. I shook my head and listened closer. Nothing. It was nothing. Before I could dive back into my painting, I heard some shuffling from behind my door. I looked over at my bedside clock and was met by red letters. 10:05. Had time really gotten away from me that quickly? Mom was probably already at her nursing job and Billy was… Where was Billy? Was that him making all that noise?
Curious, I stood from my desk and walked over to the door, turning the handle slowly as to not attract attention. I peeked through the crack and saw Billy hauling a large black bag down the hall towards the front of the house. Where was he going? I slipped my feet into my black flats and grabbed my keys and purse from the desk, looking out again to see if he would come back. After a few minutes, I climbed out of my bedroom window and sneaked around the side of the house to the front where I watched Billy get into his car and drive away. When he was mostly out of sight, I jumped into my car and peeled out of the driveway to catch up.
I knew I wasn't supposed to be driving right now, especially with being grounded, but when had rules ever stopped me? Following Billy wasn't difficult as it was relatively late and the streets weren't crowded with cars. He had made a few lefts and a right before parking in front of a seemingly abandoned strip of buildings with one sign in front of one shop window that read, “OPEN.” I waited for him to get inside the building before jumping out and strolling up to the window. It was too tinted to see inside, but I could feel the vibration of music on the cool glass.
