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Ben , Nat: Love at Home Alone Pt. 01

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“Lemme see?” She murmured, stopping just short of taking the phone out of his hands. Her fingertips touched his briefly, then she withdrew her hand. His anxiety at her nearness subsided somewhat. He sighed, held it out for her, and looked off in no direction in particular. She read it aloud, but quietly, intimately.

“Time 2 take a brake,” she started, grinning unhappily but not otherwise commenting on the grammar. “I will let u no. Bye 4 now.” She shook her head in dismay and disgust. Right then he didn’t need to hear it, and she knew that. No “I told you so,” or “What a fucking bitch,” or “Gee, I’m sorry, that sucks dude.”

So he said it for her. “Bitch.”

She handed him back the phone and scooted closer on the seat, touching him as much as she could with just a bicep and a knee. Neither of them liked crowds, or noise, and they usually huddled up, like now. He couldn’t remember a moment when he was more grateful for the distraction of the warmth and softness of her skin, and her delicate, sweet smell that didn’t come from a bottle. He felt her cheek on his shoulder briefly and couldn’t help but inhale. Her hair was down, curly and tickling, the color of sunlight, and he realized something very important. He wasn’t that upset about Sarah. Almost not at all. What did that mean?

“Stop that. It wasn’t you,” she chided, just low enough for him to hear over the engine of the bus and the rap music coming from headphones of the girl in the seat beside them. “Fuck her.”

“No, fuck me,” he said, trying for a joke and failing. He shrugged roughly, then regretted his anger. “Sorry.”

“Why, fuck you? I know you better than I know myself. It wasn’t you,” she said. “She doesn’t deserve you. She just wanted you to take her places and buy her shit.” He smiled at her anger, it fit her so much better. He was always afraid of what he’d break, but she just looked more stunning than ever when she was mad.

“It’s just… it’s the same story. I’m done, I think. I suck at dating.”

“No, you’re not. You may be too nice, but… shit. Doesn’t matter. You know I gave up a while back too, and being single definitely has its perks,” she sighed. “Dating just sucks in general.”

“Big hairy donkey testicles,” he nodded seriously and she giggled, as he knew she would. Her laugh was even more awesome than her smile.

“The hairiest,” she added seriously. “So… pizza?”

“Pizza. And Netflix.”

“Hell yeah,” she said. “You pick. I’d just pick something violent.” She raised a small clenched fist as best she could in the cramped bus. “Ooh, if I could just yank out one chunk of that bitch’s hair.”

He put his palm on her knuckles, patted it and grinned. “Put that away before somebody gets hurt.”

“I’ll punch her in the boob. I’ll give her a thong wedgie. I’ll -“

He laughed good and hard, pulling his hand away as if he’d touched a hot surface. People stared, then looked away. “Okay, damn,” he muttered. “Remind me not to make you mad.” He was feeling better already, but she usually had that effect on him.

Their stop was next and they stood simultaneously. He towered over everyone else, as usual. The mini-crowd parted just enough and she scooted along in his wake. As usual. In happier (or at least more bored) times, he’d stop abruptly and she’d crash into him, then kick his ankle or slap his butt good and hard. He loved their routines. All of them.

The bus came to a halt and she was calling Papa John’s before the door even whooshed shut. He took up his usual spot between her and the street, and she did the ordering while he tried to ignore the fact that he could see just the perfect amount of glistening breast through the neck of her t-shirt. Being tall has its advantages, at least until you hit your head on something for the thousandth time.

They stopped at the corner store, as usual, and picked up snacks. It actually was on the corner, just a few doors down from their family’s duplex. He paid despite her complaints and carried the bags as he always did. She opened the front door for him and disappeared while he put everything away.

A few minutes later, he was on the couch feet up, tv on. She came in wearing pajama shorts and the same t-shirt as before, although it looked like she’d taken off her bra. He shuddered and looked away, even though she hadn’t been looking at him, but at the tv. He hadn’t gotten them snacks, not yet, because the pizza hadn’t arrived, but he did get drinks, and hers was waiting, chock full of ice.

She folded her feet under her, cat-like, and leaned in to kiss him solidly on the cheek. He uttered a dorky “Wha -” and stared at her.

She picked up her glass of Dr. Pepper and smiled. “I appreciate you,” she said evenly, and took a swig. He smiled back, wanting another kiss like that, but thankful for what he had already.

“You’re something else,” he said, turning his attention back to the tv.

“I know,” she brazzers said. “Picked a movie yet?”

“I think so. Got it narrowed down anyway.”

The doorbell rang, and since their parents were on vacation at a luxury condo on the beach hours away, that could only mean one thing. She bounced up and streaked for the door with a whoop. He grinned after her like a fool, too amused to even try to get an eyeful. The shorts weren’t that tight, but they were tight enough, and then there was the bra-less thing. He shook his head to clear it and turned his attention back to the tv, which became even more difficult when the smell wafted down the hall to where he sat. BBQ chicken with bacon and extra cheese.

She went right for the kitchen with it, came back loaded up with her hands and even arms full, snacks and all. “I paid,” she said as she plopped down carefully.

“I left money -” He started, frowning.

She fished the cash out of the front of her pajama shorts. “Sorry, no pockets. Don’t worry, I’m clean, no cooties.” He took it, gaping, and she chuckled evilly, then chowed down. He’d chosen one of her favorites, Cinderella Man, and she whooped again. It was going to be a great night.

An hour later, they were stuffed and her head was on a pillow on his lap. He tugged and petted her hair, his heart thumping so hard he could hear it. She was so warm, and comfortable, and making soft, sensual sounds as he caressed her scalp, her earlobe, her neck, the edge of her jaw.

“You’re so good to me,” she said sleepily. “I think I’ll keep you.”

“Huh?” He said, stopping.

She turned her face up to him, smiling, eyes half shut. “Nothing,” she said after a moment. She took his hand and held it, interlacing her fingers through his, which wasn’t easy due to the size difference, but they managed. She squeezed and he squeezed back, and she turned back to the movie. The back of his hand ended up between her breasts and he could feel her heartbeat thumping just as his was. It was fast, and she was so warm to the touch. She hugged his hand so tenderly. He tugged on her long, free, white-blond curls with his other hand, thankful that there was a pillow between her head and his lap.

Half an hour later, she still hadn’t released his hand and their hearts were still pounding like mad. She got up and he paused the movie. “Want anything?” She asked, padding off toward the kitchen, and this time he couldn’t resist watching her.

She had just enough ass for it to bounce in her shorts and he felt his erection growing, or maybe that was just his imagination. He didn’t think it could grow longer or harder than it already was, and there was a definite trickle going. He finally remembered to answer, fearful that she’d look back and see him staring. “No… thanks.”

He lay his head back and closed his eyes. It was only nine thirty but he felt very tired anyway. His phone vibrated silently on the table to his left and he ignored it. He sighed heavily, trying to relax, and moments later felt small, warm hands on his cheeks, followed by a small, warm kiss on his brow. He murmured happily.

“You should just be my boyfriend,” she whispered, still holding his face tenderly. His heart leapt into his throat and he swallowed it. Was she serious? What if she was?

“Deal,” he said lightly, unsure how to respond. She patted his cheeks, kissed his brow again and padded around to sit with him. He couldn’t look meet her eye just yet, so he turned the movie back on. She had a bag of Twizzlers and offered him one. He took it and thanked her.

They munched in silence and then he heard her toss the half-empty bag on the other table to her right. She pulled down the blanked on the back of the couch, unfolded it and threw it over them. He lifted his arm and she snuggled in against his side, pulling his hand between her breasts again. But this time, he thought he felt her brush his hand against one of her nipples, which was hard. Definitely braless. Then his hand moved away, and it all happened too quickly for him to figure out if it was an accident. He squeezed her hand and she returned it immediately, fiercely, and his other hand went right back to tugging her hair.

When the movie was over, she stretched hard, one hand making its way up behind his head, and she looked up at him, smiling lazily.

“There, you got your violence after all,” he said, smiling back. “Damn good movie.”

She left her hand behind his head, back arched, and then withdrew it almost reluctantly. “I know. Paul Giamatti is such a damn good actor.”

“I can even stand Renee Zellweger in that one.”

She sat up, eyes wide. “I know! She was actually a really good wife, don’t you think?”

He nodded. “They had a good relationship.”

She smiled, those deep, sparkling green eyes dancing. “That’s what I want.”

He sighed. “That’s what we all want, I think. That’s why it’s such a good movie.”

“You cuckold porno remind me of him,” she said. “I think that’s why I love that movie so much.”

He cocked an eyebrow, unable to look at her, and turned off the tv. He was getting more anxious by the second, but it was thrilling in a way that consumed him. He’d never felt anything like this before, like his insides were trying to eat their way outside.

She didn’t say anything, just sat looking, and finally he met her gaze. There it was, plain as the sun in the sky, and he panicked, but only for a moment. She blushed, looked away, and he took her hand gently. She didn’t resist.

“Your turn to pick one,” he said as casually as he could manage. She didn’t answer, just took the remote from the table in front of them and started looking. It wasn’t long before she picked one of his favorites. Spanglish.

When the best scene came up, the one in the restaurant, she’d been laying with her head on the armrest and her feet on the pillow in his lap for the last half hour. He’d been massaging them with lotion, hard, the way she liked it. When Paz Vega told Adam Sandler that she loved him, he he’d been predicting a flood of emotion, and he was right. He felt a surprisingly strong urge to do likewise, and looked over at her. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling so beautifully.

“Hey,” he said softly. Too softly. He repeated it, louder. She looked back, on his wavelength. It was all there in shades of green. “I love you.”

She gasped and threw her arms around his neck, that amazing hair tickling him everywhere. She pressed her cheek against his neck and her breasts against his ribs. It felt divine and he had a momentary sensory overload. Just below his ear, she whispered, “I love you too. So much.” She kissed his neck and he broke out in goosebumps everywhere, crushing her in a bear hug that probably hurt but she didn’t complain, just kissed him again.

He didn’t want to let her go, and she kept kissing his neck every few seconds, making happy, comfy little sounds. They hugged each other for so long he realized he had to end it somehow, they weren’t even watching the movie anymore. He kissed the nearest thing, which was her temple, and whispered, “Nat?”

She leaned back, shaking her hair out of her face, and smiled up at him, radiant and completely comfortable with it all. She raised her eyebrows, appraising him openly and hopefully.

“I’m going to have a heart attack and die if you keep that up.”

“I’d apologize,” she said, patting his cheek, “but I’m not sorry.” They laughed together and to both his dismay and relief, she got up.

For just a moment her breasts were eye-level and there, right in front of him, protruded the buds of her nipples through the soft cotton of her t-shirt. Her breasts weren’t large, but they definitely weren’t small either. She had just enough for some really amazing cleavage, and he loved them like he loved every other inch of her.

She tottered off down the hall toward her room, or maybe the bathroom, and he blew out a long, shaky breath. He realized the movie was still running and he paused it. He’d had to pee for the last hour or so but hadn’t wanted to get up. Now was his chance, despite the painful hard-on, and he looked after her down the hall. She was in her room because the bathroom door was open and the light was off, so he headed for it quickly but quietly, adjusting his shirt, just in case. Seconds after the door closed, he heard her go by.

He leaned against the counter, staring up into the mirror, and saw that his neck was slightly discolored where she’d been kissing. It was either some sort of lip product, balm or some such, or it was a hickey. He touched the spot nervously and was able to relax. It smeared. He shook his head, somewhat disappointed but glad he wouldn’t have to explain it later.

So what the hell was happening? He’d had a crush on her since the day they met, seven years before, when her father had introduced them. His mother had eased Owen into his life but his new sister, who also happened to only four months younger than he was, had been much easier. Especially when she smiled at him. Yep, he’d been hooked from day one. She’d been the love of his life ever since. But did she know it? He shook away the cobwebs, noticed he’d finally be able to pee without splashing the walls, and did his business.

When he came back out, she was on the couch painting her toenails a dark green that was a couple of shades lighter than her eyes. She didn’t look up as he approached but he noticed both of their drinks had been refilled… her Dr. Pepper and his Coke Zero. She was singing to herself softly, too low for him to make out the tune. He leaned over the back of the couch and planted a kiss on her cheek right in front of her ear, then thanked her for the drink and came to sit.

She watched him, still singing czech porno and painting, and tilted her cheek toward him, dimpling. He leaned in to kiss it and she turned just in time. Their lips met with an electric pop and she called out, eyes flying open. He apologized and kissed her again, slower and more gently. Her lips were the softest thing he’d ever touched, and the zap from a moment before paled in comparison to this contact.

He leaned back, chickening out, and she bit her lip, apparently as nervous as he was. “What brought that on?” She asked casually, going back to painting the nails on her left foot. He didn’t know what to say to that, and she looked up at him curiously. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“No?” He asked.

“No, silly,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Sheesh. Boys.” She screwed the top back on the nail polish and set it next to her drink, then wiggled a finger at him. Apparently she’d done her hands while he was in the bathroom. He stared at it dumbly, and she smiled impishly. She took his hand in both of his and pulled him to her, kissing him hard, thorough and this time, with tongue.

He lost track of time and space for a moment, then pulled back, eyes crossing and brain fried like an egg. She looked at him with concern. “Ben?”

“Uhm,” he managed, jaw finally responding. “Sorry.” He shook his head sharply and smiled.

“Good. I thought I broke you.” She smiled back and stretched her arms up over her head, then lay them across the back of the couch.

“This is…” He started, flailing for the right words. She waited, bless her. “Is this a dream?”

“You dream about me?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

He nodded seriously.

“What kind of dreams?”

He blushed purple and she giggled.

“That kind?”

He nodded seriously again. “Yeah.”

“Want to know a secret?” She leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. “So do I.”

He shook his head in wonder, then kissed her. It was passionate, tender and as romantic as he could manage, seeing as he’d only ever kissed two girls in his life before this. It was surprisingly easy because it felt so right. Neither of them wanted to stop and it went on and on until they were tangled up in each others’ arms and legs. He’d made it beneath her at some point and her ass was just brushing his erection. Had they been a little closer in height, things would’ve progressed a little differently by then. As it was, their faces and necks were wet and they were both boiling and sweating by the time she pushed herself up off of him. She was sitting on his belly and splaying her fingers on his chest, her hair shrouding her reddened cheeks and forehead.

They stared into each others’ eyes and absorbed the moment, and he realized he was afraid of where this was going. She read that, and lay down against him, her cheek against his collarbone, and laced her little fingers under his head. His erection, up and to the left, wasn’t touching her now, and he hugged her lovingly.

His phone vibrated near his head. He grumbled and reached for it but she was faster.

“First says ‘Wat R U Doin’ and the second is just ‘Hello?’ with five question marks,” she said, her voice laced with contempt. She sat up on his belly and started typing a reply. “Making out with a girl way hotter than you,” she said as she wrote, and he laughed hard. “That should do it.” As she put his phone back on the table, her left breast came into contact with his cheek and nose. He kissed just below the nipple. She leaned down farther. “More,” she breathed.

He continued kissing through the cloth, around the hard little nub and directly over it, lifting the hem of her shirt up slowly, and then her nipple was between his lips, hot, soft and delicious. She cried out as he bit it lightly, perhaps out of fear, and the shock in her voice turned to a moan of pleasure as he alternately kissed and sucked.

“Oh my god, Ben,” she whispered, replacing one breast with the other, and moaned again, louder. “I had no idea…”

He didn’t, couldn’t, respond. This was farther than he’d ever gotten with Sarah or Melissa… and the fact that it was Natalie, and they were alone, and she loved him, it was ecstasy.

She lifted her shirt off and he was covered in waves of that divine corn silk that smelled like heaven must. Finally she sat up, hiding her breasts reflexively, and he took her arm away from them as gently as he could. She had a mole between her breasts, small and dark, just below the swell and near her heart. He kissed it and she hugged him against her bare chest, and then he was sitting, and she was on his cock. Finally, and he trembled, and she gasped again.

“Ben…”

“Yes, love?” He said, and they were eye to eye.

She searched his face, naked and vulnerable, and he smiled to let her know it was all okay. “If I said no to this, would you be mad?”

He frowned but he immediately shook his head. Please no reality right now, he thought.

But she came to a decision then, and he relaxed. “I wouldn’t do that. I couldn’t, this is too perfect.” She kissed him wet, deep, and his own shirt was up over his head in a flash.

To be continued.

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