Chapter 4 - Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You...and your dick...

"In here?"

Rebecca nodded in response as she tried to swallow. She flung her seatbelt off as JC put the car into park, her heartbeat ringing in her ears as she leaned her head forward.

"Just take deep breaths. In...1...2...3...out...1...2...3," he tried to reassure her. "Everything's going to be OK."

She froze as he placed his hand on her back. Fuck, she thought to herself.

She closed her eyes, slowing inhaling and exhaling as she sat up. "I think I'm OK."

"Do you want me to stay awhile?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Bathroom's through there."

"I'm OK." JC followed Rebecca into her apartment, carefully placing her work bag on the kitchen table. The room was small, only 300 square feet or so. On the left side of the room was a small kitchen, a 4-seater dining table, then a wardrobe with a small TV on a middle shelf.  The right side was mostly taken up by a bookcase and a futon bed. On the far right was a door leading to the bathroom, then another leading to an enclosed balcony that was set up with an easel and some potted ferns.

"Do you want some water?" he asked, looking for something to do to cut the awkwardness.

"Um, yeah." She pointed to the shelves above the kitchenette. "You can see the glasses up there. You can have some, too. Water, I mean." She blinked in confusion, before slowly pulling her sweater above her head. She sat down onto the futon.

"What's your preferred medium?" he asked as he drew the water from the tap, walking over to the futon, finding Rebecca spaced out.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry? I get a little spacey after an attack."

"What's your preferred medium?" He handed her a glass, sitting next to her.

"Um..." She looked around the room. "Like, medium of art?"

"Yeah."

"Um...acrylic on canvas, I guess. I'm not super infested enough to dedicate myself to oil paints or anything. I also kinda hate how long they take to dry."

"How long have you been working digitally?"

"Like on a graphics tablet? Um, I only do that for work. It's a good medium, and it's useful if I want to plan out anything, but you can't really replace paint on canvas or pencil on paper in my eyes."

He turned to her, tucking his feet under him as he readjusted himself on the futon. "You'll have to show me all the good art supply stores in town when I get my own place."

She turned to him. "Do you paint?"

"A little, yeah."

"What's your preferred medium?" She rested her elbow on the back of the futon and her head on her hand.

"I kinda dabble in everything. It's more about the style than the medium?"

"I'm guessing..." She gazed down at his business casual black sweater and grey trousers, "Cubism?"

"No, more surrealism."

"Darn it. I pegged you more for a geometric shapes in grayscale kind of fellow." She pouted in jest. "And I'm usually good at predicting someone's art style."

"I bet you didn't even think I painted."

She chuckled. "Honestly, no."

He placed his hand on hers. "Is that OK?"

"Um...yeah."

"Do you want anything?"

I want you to kiss me, she thought to herself. She said it out loud without realising. "I want you to kiss me."

He took in a nervous inhale, placing his hand on her thigh as he leaned closer. He bit his lip as his face hovered millimeters away from hers, his breath tickling her lips. He softly pressed his lips to hers, squeezing her thigh. She leaned forward, grabbing his bicep.

"Was that OK?" he whispered.

"Yeah." She nodded, kissing him again. Her fingers traced the seam of his sweater, tucking them under his shirt, daring to touch the skin at the nape of his neck. She pushed her other hand into his hair, begging him to open his mouth wider as she teased the tip of her tongue to his. "You're a really good kisser," she muttered as she straddled him.

His hands slipped beneath her tank top as she pressed her lips to his again, gripping her skin as electricity prickled his very being.

"Is that..?" she asked, grinding into his growing erection.

"Yeah..?"

"Um...Do you want to?"

Before he could answer, she peeled her tank top above her head. "It's going to be amazing to have you inside of me," she whispered. "No...I shouldn't have said that."

"No." His fingertips traced the lace of her bra. "It's OK. It's going to feel nice..." He trailed off in near embarrassment.

"Say it." She giggled.

"It's stupid."

"See, I shouldn't have said it."

He placed his hands on either side of her face, looking deeply into her eyes. "I want to fuck you."

She gasped. "Wow..." She sat upright, unhooking her floral bra and sliding it off. "You need to make me come first."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he grabbed her breast, playing with her nipple as he kissed her chest. He slowly dragged his tongue along her erect nipple, smiling as she shuddered. "This is going to be so much fun." His fingers unhooked her fly, pushing the zipper down as he cupped her pussy. "Looks like you're already wet," he commented as his fingers pulled her panties aside as he slipped them into her lips.

"Oh my God..." She gasped as he found her clit. "Right there."

"Yeah?"

She nodded, whispering a cry as he rubbed her pussy. "Yeah..." She leaned closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he pleasured her. "Fuck."

"Tell me when I'm doing it right."

"You're doing it right." She dug her fingernails into his sweater, biting his shoulder as she moaned. Her whole body tensed up as shockwaves engulfed her. She held him as close as she could, grabbing him as tightly as she could, becoming him as much as she could as she came, piercing his sweater with her nails as she cried out.

"Holy fuck!" she whispered. "That was a big one."

He leaned her forward on her back. "Would you like to see another big one?"

"If you mean your cock, then yes, I would like to see another big one."

He sat up, fishing for the latch of the futon. He pulled the bed out, sitting by her feet as he took her shoes off. He stood back up again, peeling her trousers off. "You know, I don't think your panties are doing a very good job of covering your pussy right now. They're so far to the side, your whole bush is exposed."

She playfully placed her foot onto his leg. "Maybe it's because they want to come off."

"Maybe." He pulled them down her legs. "You know, I wasn't expecting you to be wearing red and black panties today. Especially after the bra with the pretty yellow flowers."

"I would've worn a matching set if I had known."

"No, I like it." He stood up, pulling his sweater and undershirt over his head. "Makes me think you're a little naughty."

"You have no idea how naughty I am," she teased.

"A good Irish Catholic girl like you? I know exactly how naughty you are!"

He took off his shoes and socks, opening his wallet and taking a condom out. 

"I bet you look even better naked." She bit her lip as she waited for him to undo his belt and remove his pants.

He climbed onto the bed, rolling the condom down his shaft before he opened her legs and slipped into her.

"Oh, wow..." she gasped as he started thrusting into her. She took his hand into hers, asking him to rub her clit again.

He pressed his thumb to her, syncing his thrusts to his strokes, increasing the force and speed as he brought her to climax again. He scooped her up into his arms, sitting her in his lap as she faced him. They kissed as she grinded into him, pressing him to her as he grabbed her ass.

"Faster, mummy," he whispered, starting to thrust into her.

"Are you coming?" she whispered.

"Yeah..." He nodded, swallowing deeply as he pumped into her.

"Kiss me when it happens."

He deeply pressed his lips to hers, holding his breath as he dug his fingers into her ass. "Fuck."

"Seriously..." She wiped his hair from his forehead. She withdrew him from her, pulling him down beside her on the bed. "I don't know what to say."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah." She nodded, smiling. "It was really good. You're really good."

He smiled. "Thank you."

She turned over onto her stomach. "I could do that forever."

He rested his head onto his hand. "I mean, I get that, but wouldn't you like to stop and talk occasionally?"

"Do you like talking to me?"

"I like talking to you a lot."

"Thanks." She stood up, pulling a pair of sweatpants out of a drawer. "Do you want to get some dinner or something?"

They had pulled into a parking space at a fast food joint, a tray of burgers and fries sitting on the middle console.

"So, Joshua, where did you go to school?" Rebecca asked, folding a fry in half before taking a bite.

"Actually, I'm in the same boat you were. The suburb I grew up in isn't that far from the University of Maryland campus at College Park. Thought I might as well go there."

"What did you major in? Computer science or something?"

"Well, yeah. I'm a programmer, so I must've learnt it somewhere."

"Did you always want to be a programmer website guy?"

"No. When I started college, I didn't actually know what I wanted. My college roommate, Tony, was into web design. He kind of got me into it."

"How did you end up at Bryant's?"

"You know Joey from IT? He was in the year below us. When I graduated, I worked a little here and there setting up the county website in my hometown. When I heard that Joey had not only gotten a job out here, but that the company was still looking for IT guys, I submitted my resume. Guess I wowed your uncle or something."

"Do you think you'd always work for Bryant's?"

"Like permanently?"

"Um, yeah..."

"I mean, I'm not just here to design the website. They'd need someone to maintain the site, add new inventory, and such." He watched as she tried to make herself as small as she could in her oversized sweatshirt. "You don't have many friends at the company, do you?"

"No. Most of the people in marketing are old dudes. The young ones are creeps and the women hate me because I'm the boss's daughter."

"I doubt they hate you."

"They do. They sit there with their homemade sushi and bento boxes talking about shoes and Sex and the City and then shit talk me ‘cause I didn't have to work as hard as them. Bet they don't even think it is hard for me sometimes." She wiped tears away from her eyes with her sleeve.

"Like in a spoiled rich kid way or..?"

"No, like in a...I don't know. You have no idea how much pressure I'm under. You have no idea what it's like to have your whole life mapped out before you're even conceived. You have no idea what it's like to be expected to take over as CEO when your dad retires. You have no idea what it's like having a whole retail empire on your shoulders when you can barely do your laundry correctly. Nobody asked what I wanted...nobody cares what I want..." She trailed off.

They sat in silence. "Then quit."

She picked at her sweatshirt cuff, not wanting to respond. "I'm scared."

JC flipped through the 1997 Illinois road atlas Rebecca kept stuffed in her glove box as Rebecca tried to find Justin's mom's house.

"I think you turn right at this intersection, and it'll be midway down the block." He pointed at a modest red brick, ranch-style house. "This is it."

Rebecca pulled the hand brake as she parked. "I guess it is." She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. "Um, do you want to go on a proper date or something, like, next week sometime?"

"Um, sure."

"Cool, cool."

He leaned over, taking her hand before he softly pressed his lips to hers. "I guess I'll see you on Monday."

She bit her lip, her heart a flutter. "Um, yeah." She watched as he got out of the car. "You have my work email," she called after him as he shut the door. 

He awkwardly gave a thumbs up. "Night."

She waved. "Night." She bit her lip again as she rested her head on the steering wheel, watching him enter a side gate and walk into the backyard.

She sighed, replaying the night in her head. "What the fuck was that?"