The texted image of her wearing my pants was ridiculous and adorable, and I looked at it at least a dozen times. I finally worked up the courage to write a message I thought wouldn't be creepy at least.
—We should probably exchange pants : )
A few minutes passed before the bubbles began to pulse.
—I think Devyn threw them in the wash
—Cool
I recoiled and almost went to edit my cringe response, but followed it up instead.
—No prob, whenever
Do I bring up what happened? Do I ask her... anything at all? What do I do here?
As if Skye could hear my thoughts from a mile away, she responded.
—Sage, thank you for yesterday
She followed the message with a kiss emoji. I could almost feel my cheeks getting warm as my brain immediately skipped forward.
Would she ask me to... god, what would she even ask? To see me again? To just deal with the pants exchange?
I felt like the first time I had a crush in middle school, every hormone and synapse colluding to derail every other thought.
I took a deep breath and put my phone down. This wasn't like middle school, this was real life. College. Adulthood. Crushes didn't have to be labeled or even mutual... even to have sex, it seemed. But she said she really liked me. I had nowhere near enough relationship experience to know what that meant. I thought for nearly fifteen minutes how and if to respond to her last message. In the end, I said nothing.
* * *
School the next day was helpful at putting my mind back into the comfortable track I'd occupied for the last few terms. I still liked my classes, was happy about my path in life, and hell, could even say I'd had a pretty spectacular casual hookup. Worst case.
I managed to make it all the way through Monday in a relatively normal state of mind, but then I had dreams about her. Nothing as overtly sexual as our actual dalliance together, but I woke up not horny, but with a kind of longing. My thoughts were a bit of a mess that day, continually hopping the fence between having a maybe friends with benefits opportunity... and surrendering to the possibility that I was pretty hopelessly falling for her. That side of the divide brought similar gut twisting as the night I'd posed for her, my innermost self exposed and vulnerable.
By the time I got home that afternoon, I'd worked up the courage to text her. Again, another mental battle. Did I try to keep it casual, maybe suggest that we meet up and exchange clothes? Or should I be painfully honest and let her know I was catching major feels?
A third idea popped into my head and I just went with it before chickening out. With a quick flip of my portfolio top, I carefully extracted my two newest drawings. The afternoon light was ideally spilling onto my desk as I snapped pictures of them. As the delivered message appeared below the photos, I panicked and realized I needed to provide some kind of explanation.
—Hey Skye, drew these Sunday night after we met up. Guess you could say I was inspired, lol. Hopefully this isn't creepy or crossing a line. I'm sorry if it is, just delete the pics and forget I ever sent!
I stared at the screen for what was probably only a few seconds before the reply message bubbles began to pulse. Then disappear. Then pulse again.
Oh Jesus, I fucked up. She's writing me a book about how I'm a giant douche and never to go near her again.
Over the next few minutes the bubbles tormented me three or four more times, but never turned into a message. Nothing. I almost called her, you know, just to check if maybe she forgot to hit send on whatever it was she'd been typing. I couldn't risk hearing the tone in her real voice though, it would certainly sting more.
I slumped back into my bed and sighed. Not more than five minutes later, a knock on my door startled me out of my thoughts. The door began to open on its own, clearly against our standing roommate agreement that people needed to be let in. A head of silver hair and a gorgeous smile greeted me instead.
I practically tripped over myself getting off the bed, rushing to her.
"Skye!" I said brightly, beyond ecstatic that she didn't look murderous. She wasn't carrying my jeans, the only reason that I could possibly see her making the trip here.
She sidled up and took my face in her hands, pulling it down to her for a gentle kiss. I stood there stiffly as her lips gently pushed against mine. She pulled back and smiled at me.
"Heya, Sage," she said warmly.
I couldn't decide if I should hug her back, go in for another kiss, what. I spun around and grabbed her neatly folded pink sweats off my dresser.
"Here's your pants, sorry again about the mixup, I uh—"
"Oh, thanks," she said, taking them, "that musta been something when you realized..."
I chuckled nervously. "I didn't even notice, I made it all the way back here and one of my roommates said something."
We chatted for a few minutes and every knotted-up worry I'd been holding in my guts simply untwisted and went away. Talking and catching up like we'd known each other all our lives, it was just easy. I began to feel like an idiot for harboring so much angst, so much worry about something that was amazing. Whatever this was, whatever was happening between us, it was good.
After a couple of shared laughs about roommate things, she glanced over at my desk. Her eyes asked permission to go look, I nodded back. As we approached my desk, a gasp caught in her throat. Skye didn't bounce between the two drawings like I had, but lingered on one for a silent minute, then the other.
"These are amazing," she whispered, "like..." She took my hand and squeezed it as we gazed down at the paper.
I could tell she was wrestling with saying something. I didn't need the praise, nor did I necessarily need her to ask me if the images were simply inspired, or taken directly from a mental snapshot. She knew, she was there. I began to get nervous as the quiet stretched out, but finally she spoke.
"Sage, do you trust me?"
I gazed into her eyes and saw her bold, effortless confidence. It was maybe a little deeper than normal, but it was still simmering and dancing just under the surface. I had no idea what or why she was asking, but I grinned at her anyway.
"A hundred percent."
Without any further questioning, she took my empty sketchbook off the shelf and opened it. With one of the drawings, then the other, she carefully inserted them between blank pages. She gently opened my storage box and thumbed through my past work, quickly finding and extracting the drawing study of her from class. It was quickly stowed with the other two. True to my assertion, I didn't ask.
Skye kissed my cheek and tucked the large pad under her arm.
"Thanks, I..." she stepped back and gazed at me. "Sorry for being all radio silent, I've just been crazy busy with this project. Bad timing, but... you know."
"Sure, sure," I said. "So is this project something I'll get to see, maybe?"
"Oh, I think you'll definitely see it." She smiled widely. "Just be patient with me for a few more days. Promise I'll be in touch."
She turned toward the door to leave. Having just glanced at my drawings, I couldn't help but take a nice eyeful of her shapely rear end as she walked away. I gave her a feeble wave as she left.
"Bye..."
* * *
Two days passed before I heard from Skye.
Given her mysterious but positive visit to my room, I was largely and inconsolably smitten. I tried not to let myself get too excited, but the energy was rather like a vacation you knew was close or the days leading up to your favorite holiday. My roommates of course picked up my vibe and ribbed me mercilessly, but were confused at my seemingly zen-like calm for days without contact from her. I of course gave them no details about what she'd said, or the fact that she'd taken three of my now most prized possessions.
I had just walked out of the art building's doors after class when I got a little mental tickle. I turned to look behind me, like she'd be leaning against the brick waiting for me. Not seeing her didn't dampen my spirits though. The phone in my pocket began to vibrate and I grinned at the screen as her name popped up.
"Hey there," I answered the call, "long time no see," I added, without any irritation in my voice.
"I know, I know," said Skye. "You've been very patient. I hope you can put up with my crazy for a little longer."
"Oh?" I said, glancing back to make sure Donny wasn't trying to catch up and walk with me. "What crazy thing is gonna happen now?"
"Well, the big thing I've been working on, it's almost done. God, I'm so ready for it to be done..." she sighed into the phone.
"That's great! I'm guessing you need a few more days before we can... you know, whatever. See each other?"
"No," she laughed. "Kinda the opposite, actually. My project actually happens tomorrow, and well..."
"What?" I interrupted.
"I was hoping you'd be my date."
"You need a date... for your project?"
"Exactly! So is that a yes?"
"Well, of course, yes," I said, not really trying to mask my own confused excitement. "Do I get some kind of hint about this date?"
She giggled into the phone and I almost got nervous.
"Just dress nice. There'll be food and stuff. Starts at six, I'll text you the address."
"Sounds good. You don't want me to come pick you up at your place on the way?"
"Oh, I'll be there already. That's just when everything starts."
"Okay," I said brightly, "mysterious! See you then I guess."
How am I actually being cool about this?
We ended the call and I almost considered skipping Magic Wednesday, but ultimately decided to go. Given the recent shot of energy from my phone call, I decided to forego my usual mocha. I certainly didn't need the caffeine or sugar. That, and the long game I'd been playing with the cute Starbucks barista was now firmly in the rear-view mirror.
As I sat in the first floor common room that evening, I had three conscious goals in my head. Don't grin like an idiot the whole time. Don't compare myself to the rest of them, I'm not better or luckier just because I have a date. Pay attention to the cards, don't lose my Magic winning streak and guild cred.
Needless to say, I failed rather miserably Mat all three.
* * *
Thursday was weird. Despite more or less getting officially asked out, I was still trying to keep my thoughts in the don't overcomplicate this, it's gonna be what it's gonna be lane. I got home from my last class at about four, leaving me plenty of time to get ready. Donny sat at the kitchen counter, nose-deep in a couple of thick textbooks.
"What up, Sage man..."
"Hey," I said offhandedly, ready to make the trip into my closet for something nice. I hadn't realized the hole in my plan, the fact that I didn't own many nice clothes. I had my doubts about opening my mouth, but it happened. "Donny, I uh... kinda have a date tonight."
His head shot up from the books and he gaped at me. "For real? With Skye? Like did you finally man up and ask her?"
"Yes for real, yes with Skye, and she asked me, if it makes a difference."
"Duuuuude..." he said slowly. "That's fuckin' awesome. I'm actually kinda surprised you told me, if I'm being honest right now."
I let out a long sigh and arched an eyebrow at him. "Same her," I laughed. "I was hoping you could help me out."
"Dude, anything. Whadayou need? Cologne, tips, restaurant suggestions... condoms?"
I shook my head and glared at him. "Skye didn't tell me where we were going, but said to dress nice."
"Alright, attire. Can do. What do you have already?"
We marched into my room and tore into my closet. I hadn't remembered bringing it, but the shirt I wore to high school graduation looked brand new and was... nice. I chuckled to myself as I pulled it out, the color a pale green-gray. I'd picked it out myself, with my mother's blessing of course, but never realized the color could very easily have been called Sage. I didn't point it out to Donny.
He pulled out a dark gray pair of chinos next. Another item I hadn't remembered bringing, they were a little short, hitting just about my ankle. I was about ready to put them back.
"No dude, those are perfect," he said, giving a chef's kiss. "I got just the kicks to go with them. What size shoe are you?"
"Twelve."
"See, fucking meant to be. Alright, so we have the mains worked out here. Dress nice," he said thoughtfully. "What's the date again?"
"No idea. It has something to do with a project she's been working on, but I'm not really sure."
"Alright, art major. Would be ridiculously lame to call it a date... but maybe a lecture? Some noted artist giving a slideshow about their time in Nepal painting yaks or something?"
I laughed. "Wait... she said there would be food, and that she'd already be there when it started."
"Dude, gallery show. Hundred percent."
"How could you know that?"
"Art people," said Donny, "what do they make? Art. Where does art one has been working on get displayed that would start at a certain time?"
"Okay, you could have a point. Does that help?"
"Oh yeah. You need a sport coat, no tie probably, and the sneakers I already picked out for you because I'm a fucking genius."
"So... nice, but not too nice."
"Exactly."
"I'm your padawan, Jedi master, teach me."
"And no nerd shit!"
I laughed and pulled on the chinos, then followed Donny through our shared bathroom to his room. I was amazed to see that he had five or six jackets, all hung up in plastic bags. He didn't hesitate, pulling one out that was a medium gray. It split the difference in brightness between my shirt and pants, and I had to admit, looked really good. With a nice black belt and his bright white leather sneakers with gum soles and no socks, my outfit was complete. He dragged me back into the bathroom.
"Dude, we have something to work with."
I gawked at myself, having never worn anything like this in my life. Something... stylish. I almost jumped when Donny started working a handful of foaming stuff into my black hair, followed by a powder that quickly dissolved. It only took a minute or two, but my roommate turned out to be a closeted hair stylist as well. Gazing in the mirror again, he hadn't simply spiked it straight up, but just kind of messed it. Like, it could have been on TikTok. He spritzed me with some cologne that made me cough, but I had to admit after I'd let the fog dissipated, it smelled really nice.
"Alright my man, date-ready. How else can I help?"
My brain whirled on all the time I'd spent with Skye, how easy and effortless it was to be comfortable around her, and at the same time so deliciously uncomfortable. Nothing had been defined or labeled, but I thought a date might officially be some new level, a new kind of expectation. I think he could tell I was wrestling with it.
"Dude, don't get inside your head. You've already spent some time with her, right?"
I nodded.
"She likes you enough to want to be seen with you in public. You got it in the bag, alright?"
I appreciated his confidence, but couldn't get all the way there myself. "I just don't know what she's expecting of me, how to act."
"Sage." Donny grinned and crossed his arms. "Despite the rigid rules of physics and nature, you have your hands on a solid ten that's into you. It's not my cologne, your now-awesome hair, or anything we just did. She's into you. Don't charm her, don't try and be me or any other douchebag, just be you. For some reason we may not ever understand, it's working."
I laughed, actually feeling a little better as my insides started to relax.
"Thanks man," I said quietly. "Who knew you had a sensitive therapist and a hair stylist inside."
We shared a rather brotherly glance and he leaned in and hugged me.
"Tell no one, and I'll let you live," he whispered menacingly in my ear before breaking down in laughter.
We pulled apart and I glanced at my phone. Five fifteen.
"Huh, I still don't even know where I'm going." I'd just swiped my phone open and had navigated to our thread when a new message arrived. I tapped the link and got a street view of a nondescript storefront-looking building. The windows were bare of displays and there didn't appear to be a sign above the door. I tapped the walking directions, the address was off campus, but only about twenty minutes away on foot.
Donny was watching my screen, navigating along with the text thread and my destination. I messaged Skye a thumbs up back.
"Starts at six, I assume?" he said, I nodded back. "Do you trust me?"
I cocked my head at the second time I'd heard that phrase in as many days. I nodded again.
"Alright, come on." Donny took me back to his bedroom and opened a dresser drawer. Extracting a bottle of what I assumed to be whiskey and a shot glass, he put it on the wooden top. "Just one to calm your nerves. You have forty minutes and a nice walk. By the time you get there, you'll be in the perfect state to be charming and mingle."
I laughed. "What if our date is axe throwing or rock climbing or something?"
"Then you'll be overdressed and charming. It's a win-win dude, take the fucking shot."
"Fine."
Donny grinned and filled the small glass well past the little painted line. He took the neck of the bottle in his own hand as I raised the glass, both downing a healthy portion of the burning, amber liquid together.
I coughed and set the shot glass back on his dresser, Donny took my shoulders in his hands.
"You. Got. This."
"Yes I do," I said with more conviction than I felt.
I strode out of our dorm and into the warm evening. After a block I took off the sport coat and neatly folded it over my arm, not wanting to pit out before I even got there. I consciously slowed my pace several times, eventually meandering up and down extra streets so I wouldn't be the weirdo arriving early and peering in the window.
It irritated me that Donny appeared to be right again about the last detail. The thirty-foot wide storefront did very much look like an art gallery as I approached. Actual red velvet ropes directed a line of people to one side, maybe fifty or so waiting to get in the wide glass door. I walked past and glanced inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of my date.
About halfway through the line, a group of hands seized my arm and more or less pulled me over the ropes.
"Sage!" said Devyn brightly, hugging around my stomach. "Glad you came."
The rest of the roommates grinned widely, flashing me knowing looks. They were all dressed nicely, having apparently gotten the same instructions.
"Oh?" I said, waving in apology to the people behind me. "You mean to come see Skye's project?"
Four sets of eyebrows arched up.
I sucked in a breath like I was going to deliver a retort. "Uhh... no. Anybody care to clue me in?"
The amount of information transmitted between them in looks and facial expressions alone was probably measured in gigabytes. Mal, short for Mallory which I must never say aloud, finally spoke.
"I don't think it's really our place. Skye was kinda specific about it."
"I see," I said, feeling the pleasant buzz of the whiskey. "Well keep your secrets, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble." A group on the sidewalk jostled by, I took a step into the group of girls to keep from getting bumped. I could have sworn I heard three or four gentle inhales followed by sighs. The whiskey suggested this would be an opportune time to put my sport coat back on. As I shrugged it up and onto my shoulders, I even got a whiff of the spicy, woody cologne Donny had sprayed on me.
Art gallery, I guess this could be a date. Not like we're gonna have any time alone, but better than nothing. I wonder what she's wearing.
I'd arrived about five minutes early, so we didn't have long to wait. The door opened promptly at six and the line filed inside. Quickly scanning the room as we made our way in, I didn't have to wonder much longer. I stopped dead in my tracks as our eyes met, people continuing to stream around me.
Skye wore a shimmering blue cocktail dress, nearly the same color as her dramatic, beautiful eyes. From the thighs up, the majority of the dress clung to her like a second skin, leaving no mystery to her alluring curves. The cups of material over her breasts didn't drop scandalously low to bare her cleavage, but contoured enough to let you know it was there. Her hair had been mostly pulled back, but a few strands framed her elfin face. Her lips were a bright, pearlescent pink.
As she saw me taking her in, I could have sworn she almost did a little pose, like there was any way I could possibly find her more stunning. Between the color of her dress and her silvery hair, she could have stood in for the sexy ice queen in any number of fandoms. The notable exception of course, was the warmth in her smile. The pink lipstick didn't hurt either. When she smiled at me from across the room, I felt anything but icy.
Skye sauntered over, her walk a little more catwalk due to the narrow bottom of the dress. She took my hand and grinned widely.
"Well, you clean up nice, don't you?" She made an unabashed head-to-toe stare. "Yum."
"Me?" I gawked. I knew my eyes widened seeing her up close. "You look... amazing."
"Thank you, and," she added, "for coming without so much as an idea about tonight. And Sage, I know this isn't really a date date, but I think you'll enjoy it anyway."
"If you're here, I will."
We shared a grin before I noticed someone standing next to us. The statuesque woman had to be quite a bit older than my parents, and was dressed extremely well. A wide brimmed hat gave her an almost southern air.
"Sage," said Skye, turning to the woman, "I'd like you to meet Norma. Norma, this is Sage Carter."
"It's lovely to meet you dear," said the woman, her northeastern accent dispelling my assumption. She gently shook my hand.
"Norma is the primary patron of our yearly gallery show. My big project," she clarified.
"I see why you were so busy," I said, glancing around at the numerous works on display. Only then did I notice soft string music in the background, and waiters in black roaming the open space with trays of food and fluted glasses. "You did all this?"
"Oh, no, it was a group effort," said Skye.
"That was led by Miss Saavedra, who I suspect did the majority of the work anyway," said Norma with a smile. "No matter. It's gone off spectacularly I think, and I'm hoping the turnout and proceeds will be a great boon to the department."
"So it's a fundraiser?" I asked.
"Among other things, but largely, yes. Listen you two, I have some mingling to do, but I'm sure you'll drop in on me later in the evening."
"Thanks, Norma," said Skye. "Come on Sage," she said, lacing her fingers in mine, "let's go appreciate all my work," she giggled.
"This really is amazing," I said as she steered us to one of the gallery walls. Spotlights mounted on a black metal track crisscrossing the ceiling highlighted the various paintings and drawings. I wondered if all the works were art students, or if it was a more open kind of affair.
We took a few minutes and weaved through the crowd doing the same. Skye pointed out one of roommate Ana's paintings, an abstract work at least as tall as she was, and quite impressive. We took advantage of the waitstaff and grazed on jumbo prawn scampi, avocado crostini, and what I think were tiny bell peppers stuffed with mushrooms. Everything was excellent.
Skye snagged two glasses of bubbly wine, which she told me was actual Champagne, donated by another one of the patrons. I was about to reiterate that I was only nineteen, but the fact that I already had a little whiskey in my bloodstream brushed it off.
We wandered through the front room of the gallery, the light spilling in through the large windows beginning to wane as the sun set. Lots of paintings adorned the walls, and some sculpture work sat on pedestals in the open area. One odd corner was an art installation that was only a series of hidden LED lights that reacted to the view of a camera feed, focused on a square area taped off on the floor. Skye pulled me into the marked zone next to her and the large swaths of color washing the wall faded, then slowly transitioned. I realized there was a computer somewhere averaging the color spectrum of our clothing and painting the wall in an approximation. On my side, nearly the appropriate height was a tall glob of Sage Green. I chuckled to myself as I looked at the other blob of color, Skye Blue.
"I guess we have our colors, don't we?"
"I honestly didn't even think about it," I said.
"Me either! Art nerds..." she giggled and squeezed my hand.
After circling around to the opposite side of the gallery and a few more highlights of work by people she knew, Skye turned to look at me and took my other hand. She gulped before saying anything, and looked almost nervous.
"Guess I should just get this over with," she said, chewing her lower lip.
"What's that?"
"Sage..." she said slowly, "you have some pieces here, too."
A shock of adrenaline ran through my veins in the split second it took me to realize what pieces she was referring to, the only parts of my art collection she had in her possession. I panicked, remembering vividly in my mind's eye what each of them looked like, and the rather explicit content.
Chill out dude, the drawings are of her.
Skye nodded toward the back of the gallery, toward a walled off space with a door-sized opening. It was covered with a split curtain hanging on wire, a deep red velvet.
"The red room is where the more spicy pieces live."
Wait, spicy pieces—plural. Would she have displayed her drawing of me, too?
I tried to remain calm, to not show on my face the terror that there could be people looking at a pretty accurate drawing of me right this minute, reclined, my hard-on flopped on my stomach.
I'm all clothed, my hair is different, nobody can see my tattoo, I reasoned as she pulled me toward the red curtain. Nobody will recognize me, right? Maybe her roommates? No big deal, no big deal.
As we passed between the heavy velvet panels, I went into immediate recon mode. A few typical carved or pottery busts sat on stands, but each of the four walls was lined with paintings and drawings. My eyes quickly darted between pieces. I almost thought Skye was trying to pull a joke on me, that's when I noticed a group of ten or so people gathered in one corner of the room.
My feet carried me in that direction, I wasn't even sure if I was still holding her hand. I kind of shoved my way up to see, as much as anyone does at an art gallery. First, my brain took in the fact that all four pieces were in fact there. On the left corner hung our drawings of each other. Tastefully framed, even with my engorged cock front and center, they were certainly art.
On the facing corner were my two works of Skye I drew after our interlude. Both images were from my perspective, actual experiences captured by my own eyes.
The first drawing of her was upright. She'd been riding me as I leaned back on the plinth. I'm pretty sure my brain picked a frame just before her orgasm began to wash through her body. One hand was between her legs, which I shaded and cropped just enough to give the idea, but looking at it again, there was no question what she was doing. Her other hand was cupped under her left breast. Her face was the very ending of her usual confident radiance, just before she let go. Her lips turned upward in a satisfied grin, and I'd added enough color to her cheeks to show her exertion. And there on either side of her narrow waist, just above the round of hips, was another pair of hands. My hands.
A breath caught in my throat as I forced my gaze to the next drawing. I could feel my chin begin to shake as I gazed at it.
Skye was now on her back, her silver hair lying flat on the plinth. Her breasts were unnaturally full and high for someone in that position, but the physics of the situation was clear... her body was in a state of motion, causing those perfect tits to sway on her chest. Her face was quite different in this version. Her lips were parted and her expression wasn't one of fear, but of surrender, submission. She was almost pleading. Just between her arms and chest, my hands splayed out on the smooth wood, my arms extending off the edges of the drawing. At the very bottom, the smudged and blurred V between her legs was split by the idea of me inside her. It wasn't obvious or explicit, more like a shallow depth of field photo where your brain fills in the out of focus bits you know are there.
I could feel the room in the front of my chinos shrinking. I couldn't deny how arousing the images were, and that's when my brain started working overtime. The majority of the eyes in the crowd were focused on my two later drawings. I didn't dare look at any of their faces, but instead focused on the tiny plaques beneath each picture.
The drawing of me was titled simply:
-Sage 1-
Skye Saavedra, artist. Charcoal, Pencil
The plaques under my first drawing of her were equally nondescript.
-Skye 1-
Sage Carter, artist. Charcoal, Pencil, Pastel Chalk
The others were simply Skye 2 and Skye 3. I don't know how long it took my mind to assemble the pieces, but my adrenaline started pumping again.
Each picture says Skye, and Sage, either as subject or artist. With our names. I drew a picture of her in the most private moment possible... it's obviously with me!
I nearly choked on my own tongue.
Everyone in this room could figure out that we've had sex.
The adrenaline flowed through me again and I had to concentrate not to overtly squeeze either her hand in mine, or the delicate stem of the champagne flute in my other.
An angry, fiery pit began to form in my stomach. I didn't want it there, but I couldn't deny the emotion. A half dozen voices in my head brought up at best irritation, and worst... betrayal. I wanted to hyperventilate, to run, but I stood rooted to the spot.
This is almost worse than if they'd walked in on us. People hook up, cool. But these are my visions of sex, my view of her. Of us.
Goosebumps prickled my entire body. The idea of my most inner thoughts and and virginal desires put plain on paper was like every secret and embarrassment in my life had been laid out for others to examine. To critique, to scorn.
The gallery floor wasn't going to helpfully open and swallow me up, and I honestly thought about taking off. Instead of trying to convince my feet, I took a few calming breaths. The voices quieted somewhat and I could feel my pulse dropping.
It's an art show. You made art. She did ask, kinda. Nobody cares that it's us, right? We're consenting adults. People do this. It's normal. Isn't it?
My inner pep talk went on for a moment longer, and I suddenly realized that no one in our corner of the red room was talking. The entire group, both women and men, appeared transfixed. I finally let myself look at their faces. Cheeks were flushed, and a few of the women had their lips parted rather like Skye's in my final drawing. I watched a guy in his fifties adjust the front of his pants, I somewhat more subtly followed suit and willed my own erection to chill out.
"Sage..." Skye whispered in my ear. "I said, what do you think? Are the frames okay?"
"Oh yeah, totally," I managed to get out. "Skye, they're—" I simply nodded at the group of people that were definitely not paying attention to the real flesh and blood subjects of the nearing-on-pornographic art.
"Yes," she whispered, "they are."
I was still absolutely floored. I couldn't decide whether it was her nonchalance of being so utterly and graphically laid bare, or the fact that people couldn't seem to look away from it. Skye finally turned to look at me and must have seen the wide range of emotions playing on my face.
"Are you okay? Ohmigod, this wasn't okay, was it?"
Her lower lip started to shake. Somehow, her concern for me simply shook everything out. I pulled her to my chest, relishing the feeling of her body against me.
"Just took me a minute, I'm all good, I promise." I held her against me and like a kind of magic, every negative vibe just seemed to dissipate. I didn't want to tell her that the last ten seconds were probably half an hour in Sage time in my brain.
We separated and she gave me a gentle peck. We both pivoted to look back toward our corner, seeing that the oddly silent group had grown.
"People are really kinda..."
"Yeah," she grinned. "I don't think you realize what you were able to do."
"Draw porn?"
Skye glared, the first time I remember even seeing a shred of irritation on her face. I was almost scared that it was aimed at me.
"That is not porn, Sage Carter. Do you think all those people would be standing with a bunch of strangers in a public place if I put an OnlyFans feed on the wall?"
"Well maybe not all of them."
Skye let go of my hand and playfully slapped me on my chest.
"Those pictures make people feel, Sage. What you managed to capture is amazing..."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I said, trapping her arm between us as I held her again. "Thank you. I mean, I thought they were good, but I don't think I'm an like an impartial observer here."
The twinkle in her eye caught me off guard. I'd noticed it a few times before, usually just before something crazy or amazing happened. Just as quickly, it passed.
Maybe a reflection from the spotlights.
With a couple of lingering glances over my shoulder at our fan base, we left the red room. The main part of the gallery had crowded significantly since we'd been out there, and the vibe in the room was now more lively. Not quite a party, but definitely closer to that than art show. I wondered if Skye would need to flit about as part of her official duties, whatever those were, but she stayed by my side. Or rather, I stayed by hers. She seemed to know a good number of people there, pausing for hugs or cheek kisses. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the few people she chose to introduce me to, other than they were all simply not our age.
We mingled and ate. I tried to be present and be her date as she'd requested of me. In the back of my head though, was the observation that people continued to stream in and out of the red room. I figured most of them probably saw our drawings.
It was probably imagined, but I began to notice people taking longer looks at us as we made our rounds through the gallery. Not quite outright leers, but interest. Skye certainly wasn't hard to spot and confirm yeah, that's the gorgeous girl from those pictures. With her hanging on my arm, I suspect it kind of filled in the other variables in the equation.
Every time I blinked, I saw our drawings. The idea that others were appreciating them in the same way I did... two complimentary thought patterns started to intrude. Both stroked my ego, the first a simple acknowledgement that I was good at something I loved, but the second... Skye was okay that people knew what we'd done. In fact, I bet she was more than okay with it. It was almost as if she invited me here as a public confirmation of that fact.
When a rather stunning woman in her early thirties gave me an unabashed eye grope, it started to get to me, and not in the way I'd imagined.
That lady is imagining me naked, right now. She's thinking about Skye on top of me, maybe about some time she was in the same place. Shit, maybe she's even wishing she was exactly in Skye's place.
Like some kind of switch, the idea that a good portion of the people here had seen us ultimately exposed, vulnerable... it piqued a new combination of emotions. I was aroused, excited, nervous... horny. All at once and together.
My brain concocted an image of the two of us up in the atelier, warm light bathing our skin as we climbed the plinth, hand in hand. The entire population of the gallery was there, watching as we shrugged our robes to the floor. Like the crowd wasn't there, but very much knowing they were, we began a gentle make out that slowly escalated.
I skipped ahead, the now indelible images again playing out in real life in front of our audience. Skye on top of me as I gazed up at her perfect body, writhing against me in pleasure. Her hands were again the beginning of her own undoing, pinching at a hard nipple, the other rubbing her clit. In a blink I was on top, pounding away between her legs. Just as I was about to climax, the crowd swelled in cheers of encouragement as I succumbed to my biological need.
The clink of glasses on silver trays brought me back to reality. I awkwardly twisted my hips, realizing I'd given myself about two thirds of a hard on. Skye stood just in front of me, talking to another older person about the gallery and their fundraiser, I think. As she jostled backward so a waiter could slip through, her backside brushed against the front of my pants. She waved lazily as the person walked off.
"You must really be into art shows," she said quietly with a grin, giving a not subtle glance toward my belt.
We locked eyes and she must have caught something in my expression.
"What is it, Sage?" she asked sweetly.
I'd never deceived her or held anything back, and it had seemed to go well so far.
"Almost everyone in here has seen... us," I whispered.
A slow smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "I know." She stopped speaking, like she was trying to pull it out of me.
"I was kinda ick about it at first, but now..."
"What?" she said. "Now what?"
"It's kinda turning me on."
She nodded expectantly.
I glanced over her shoulder out through the large windows, the last of the sunlight had left a gloomy street light-lit darkness outside.
The look of disbelief on her face almost had me questioning myself, but I just went for it and kept speaking.
"Could we go somewhere else? I..." I whispered the words out, there in the middle of a bustling crowd of gallery goers, "I want you so bad."
The trace of whatever it was evaporated from her face and was replaced by a double dose of her usual radiant confidence. That bright light lasted only a second before her face fell.
"I can't really leave, there's a..." she trailed off. The brief disappointment in her expression quickly morphed into a mischievous grin. "But come with me."
Before I knew it, Skye had grabbed my hand and we were weaving through the gallery toward the back. We turned away from the red room and to a little roped off area at the rear. It wasn't private by any means, but the now-full erection tenting my chinos wasn't going to argue. In the back corner of the space was a tiny spiral staircase. Skye slipped off her heels at the bottom and pulled me upward.
Round and round we went, until we were probably twenty feet up. In a kind of capital E shape, metal catwalks were suspended from the ceiling above the gallery space. What little brainpower I had access to noticed the tracks for the spotlights hung down from the narrow walkways. Everything at our elevation and above was painted flat black so it more or less disappeared into a void above the art below.
Skye pulled me into a deep kiss, standing on her tiptoes. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the smooth material of her dress in my hands. I tasted the champagne on her lips and smelled a perfume I hadn't noticed before. She began to kiss down my neck and I felt the last of my self restraint slipping away.
"Jesus, Skye..." I said as quietly as I could, "here?"
"As good as I could manage," she said between licks at my neck. "God, you smell good tonight."
Before I knew it she had a few of my shirt buttons open as was licking the skin over and around my tattoo. I gasped as she found a nipple and nipped at it gently with her front teeth. I hissed my approval and almost roughly broke free of her.
Without preamble, I yanked at the narrow straps of her dress. They fell down her shoulders, enough that I could pull down the stretchy cups. Skye's breasts tumbled out of their confines. Her nipples were already hard when I leaned down to take one between my lips, the other in my hand. She cooed as I swirled my tongue around her creamy flesh.
"You don't think they can see us up here?" I said between mouthfuls of tit.
"I don't care if they do."
Like some newly formed part of my brain had control of my mouth, I answered. "Me either."
A brief shred of analytical consciousness poked through and knew that without any light up here, we should have been as good as invisible. My eyes weren't buying it though, the heads of over a hundred people we'd just been eating appetizers with were less than ten feet below us. As Skye slowly pulled back and lowered herself to sit on the metal grate of the catwalk, I knew I didn't care.
I followed her down. After a little awkward shimmying, I got her dress pulled up around her waist. In the dim light I could see she was wearing a narrow thong in nearly the same shimmering blue as her dress. She grinned at me studying her, her grin almost daring me to make the next move.
We ended up having to work at it together. She lifted her hips, I pulled at the narrow fabric arching over her thighs. In a brief second I held the wadded up undergarment in my hand. Not sure what to do with it, I stuffed it into the pocket of my jacket. Donny's jacket. Part of me wanted to strip off everything I was wearing, but I knew we didn't have the time or freedom. Instead, I unbuckled my belt and undid the chinos.
Skye gazed up at me, her breasts pale and full in the dim light, her legs spread. Even in the limited illumination, I could see her wetness. With a tug on my boxers, my cock sprang free. The look on her face would have been scary if I didn't know my own was mirroring it. I sunk down to her level and kissed her hard, our tongues eagerly lapping at each other. It took a few adjustments, but eventually I felt my throbbing head at the heat of her entrance.
"Are you sure?" I whispered in her ear. It took every fiber of my being to wait for an answer.
"In me, now," she commanded.
At first I simply released some of my weight. My cock pushed through her outer folds, already slick. The next move was from her hips, flexing up from the catwalk to urge me further. With another retreat and gentle rock forward, I was halfway in. Her velvety insides swelled and contracted around me, slowing but not stopping my progress. After another more deliberate thrust, I was buried to the hilt inside Skye's wonderful, perfect body. We both sighed out at the sensation, the connection.
"God..." she exhaled.
The physical sensation was like last time, the same deliciously slippery friction as I slid into her body. The new piece was the actual crowd of people below us, literally in the same room. Not a half-heard voice that could happen to walk into an art studio, but hundreds of eyes that needed only to turn skyward to see at least the charcoal outlines of our indiscretion spread out in its horny, opportunistic glory.
I shoved the thought deep down and simply relished the feeling of her around me for a moment. Leaning down for a lick at her tit, I began my slow gyrations. I tried to keep everything slow and gentle, hoping the metal grid below her bare ass wasn't hurting her. When she slowly hooked her legs behind my thighs, I got the sense she didn't care.
"You feel so fucking amazing," I whispered, shocked at the crassness in my own voice. Each slowly deliberate stroke lasted two or three glorious seconds. I longed for the artificial daylight of the studio so I could see her properly beneath me. Even without my eyes reinforcing, the velvety tightness of her pussy gripping my cock was pushing me further into the unstoppable lust I had for this girl.
With almost imperceptible change, I began to thrust just a bit faster, deeper. The feeling of her flesh enveloping mine was somehow amplified by the activity just below us, the unsuspecting crowd. I'd taken a bit too much liberty after a moment and we both heard the metal groan and squeak beneath us. I paused for a moment and looked downward, nobody had dropped their glasses or stopped conversation.
"Don't you dare stop," she hissed, pulling my face down to hers.
Skye's tongue invaded my mouth in time with my growingly insistent plunges into her depths. The counterpoint of her thrusting between my lips was incredibly erotic as I continued to stretch her insides.
After another minute, my tempo and the impossibly wet and hot grip on my cock pushed me to the edge. I knew that I was close. The catwalk at least wasn't squeaking at our current frequency so I just kept thrusting between her slender legs.
"Cum for me, Sage." Skye broke our kiss long enough to whisper in my ear. "Right fucking now."
Her command finally pushed me off the cliff. I bit my lip as the delicious agony spread through my core and out the rest of my body. My cock hardened to the breaking point as I began to spurt. Jet after jet rocketed out into Skye's willing body, her cunt contracting around me a half-second after each spasm and almost pulling my load deep into her.
As my spurts began to slow, I felt the metal grid digging into my knees. I held myself up with one hand and used the other arm to pull her against me. With my head on her chest, I deep breathed through the last of my climax. I finally let out a long sigh and pushed myself up to look at her.
"Wow," was all I could think to say.
She grinned up at me as I basked in my happy chemicals. It hit me just then.
"You didn't..."
"It's okay, seriously," she said, taking one side of her dress and hiking the cup back over her breast.
A humorously foreign instinct flared up and I swatted at her hand.
"No it's not," I smiled. I gently pulled the fabric cup back down. With my very wet cock still half-flaccid and wagging below me, I leaned down and took her breast back between my lips. Her nipple quickly hardened at my oral attention.
"Oooohh," she moaned quietly as my tongue bathed her creamy flesh.
With a nice mouthful of tit, I pinched the unoccupied nipple between my thumb and forefinger, getting me a pleasured gasp in return. That hand quickly worked its way down her front, over the taut part of her torso still covered by the compressed fabric of her dress.
"Oh, Sage..." she whispered as my fingers found her center, her dripping wetness.
I plunged two fingers inside, strangely aroused that I could feel the warm gift I'd just given her. I scooped a bit of my cream out and smeared it up her engorged lips to her clit, rubbing my spend around her fleshy button.
"Ohmigod," she panted. "You're naughty."
I gave one more good lick to the nipple nearest my mouth and sat up a bit, not enough to dislodge my hand.
Having been in a quite visual state all evening, I took in the sight below me. Skye lay on her back on the metal catwalk, slinky cocktail dress gathered around just her stomach. From the moment I'd attacked her clit with my cummy fingers, her head had lolled back. I watched her breathing grow more erratic as I strummed at her pleasure button. Her leg spread even wider as I continued, urging me on.
When her climax finally overtook her, Skye's body was almost yoga-like in its restraint. She writhed against my invading fingers, but slowly and delicately enough to keep our presence discreet. As the final spasms wracked her body, I couldn't take my eyes away from her beautiful opening and the cascade of my cum that had begun to leak out around my fingers.
In the dim light, I caught just a glimmer of reflection on a large, pearly strand of our mixed juices. I watched the drip accelerate down the smooth curve of her rear just before it fell. I didn't even have time to react as it slipped neatly through an opening in the metal grid. Focusing my eyes downward, I had to suppress a gasp as I watched in almost slow motion... the generous cumdrop landed squarely on the front brim of a large hat. I held my breath, waiting for the person to look up. I'm not sure how long had passed when I convinced myself the drip went unnoticed.
Glancing back at Skye, she'd leaned forward and was gazing contentedly at me.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," I said, "but you might wanna make sure Norma keeps her hat on."
Skye giggled inappropriately and clapped a hand over her mouth. I had a flash of inspiration and reached into my coat pocket. I handed her panties back, hoping they would at least prevent any further evidence from falling.
"Good thinking," she said. Rather than slide the tiny thong back up her legs, she simply used the widest part as a rag.
I watched in detached amazement as she gently folded the aftermath of our dalliance into the silky fabric.
"You mind holding these?" she said, handing me back the wadded up undergarment. "No pockets."
I stifled a laugh and shoved them back into my jacket.
"Such a gentleman."
I smiled widely and gently reached down to pull the fabric cups back over her breasts. I could barely believe what had just happened, what we'd done. We stood and got the rest of our clothing in order, and Skye straightened her hair. At least in the dim light, we looked more or less presentable. She craned up for another gentle kiss.
"I hope that'll tide you over," she said sweetly.
Her choice of words suggested the possibility of a third interlude might definitely push us past casual. The thought raced through my brain like wildfire. I could barely think of how to respond.
"I could die happy right now," I said honestly, wrapping my arms around her waist. I relished the feeling of her against me one last time before the inevitable we need to go back to the art show.
Skye took my hand and led us back down the catwalk toward the spiral staircase. We gazed down and quietly descended the narrow steps. The unused back corner of the building was still deserted as we stepped down, and Skye donned her heels again. With a shared grin and another peck, we made our way out.
The noise of the gathering was immediately louder and more festive than it had been from our vantage. Skye flashed me a strangely knowing smile before rather directly leading me across the large open space. I just followed, because obviously I was going to. Curiously, she seemed to be making a beeline for Norma, despite my warning.
"Oh, there you are," said the older woman, smiling warmly at us, "wondered where you'd gotten off to." She shared a similarly knowing look with Skye and I felt my neck hair prickle a bit. "Is this the right time?"
"I think so," said Skye, looking almost nervous.
I assumed that as the organizer and patron of the show, respectively, that they were about to maybe give some kind of speech or kick off some other stage of the event, but they both rather pointedly just stared at me. Only after a moment did I realize Norma was holding a plain envelope in her hand and holding it out toward me. My brain didn't connect the dots that I might reach out and take it from her, so I simply stood there, dumbly looking between them.
"I must say," said Norma, glancing between us, "that the fellowship was a tight race this year. Ms. Saavedra was certainly on the short list, especially given her effort and brilliant job planning this event."
Fellowship? Oh wow, like an internship or something, right?
"That's great!" I said, squeezing Skye's hand. "Good for you!" She gave me a funny look in return and somehow steered my gaze back to our patron.
"She convinced me though, to look at a late contender."
"Oh," I said. "Well that's too bad, I guess."
"Mr. Carter," said Norma with an uncharacteristic chuckle, "the late contender is you. You are the latest recipient of the Hawthorne Fellowship."
Nothing about the last half an hour was tracking in my brain, probably this recent development least of all. I couldn't fathom what I might have done to deserve a fellowship, whatever that was. My mouth took over with something it thought was relevant.
"Who's Hawthorne?"
Norma chuckled again. "Well, Sage, that's me. The name came from my late husband of course."
"I—" I stuttered, "I don't understand."
Thank god she knew I wasn't talking about the convention of married surnames and explained the real question.
"The Hawthorne fellowship is available to all university students here. It includes full tuition, supplies, and a generous living stipend for your undergraduate degree. The goal of course, is to further your artistic development, perhaps more free of other burdens."
The weight of what she told me swirled around my head like a bowling ball.
"Are you serious?" I croaked out, my throat going dry. I finally looked at the envelope and gingerly took it from her hand.
"Very much. All the details are in the envelope. Congratulations, Mr. Carter. We usually do a formal announcement at this event, but Ms. Saavedra indicated you would probably prefer to remain a bit more anonymous for now."
"Whatever you wanna do," I said numbly.
I can't believe this is happening. What the actual hell...
The gravity of what just happened continued to pull on my thoughts like rubber bands trying to hold up dumbbells.
"But," I choked out, "I'm not even an art major. I'm in accounting!"
"I'm aware," said Norma. "We generally prefer our recipient to be a full time art student, but exceptions can be made. Being a freshman, you certainly have ample time to change majors, should you choose to do so. No pressure, of course."
"I don't know what to say, I mean-" I finally blurted out, "Thank you!" I rushed forward and pulled the older woman into a hug, which after a moment, she reciprocated.
"You are most welcome."
I turned and glanced at Skye. Her expression was even more pleased than normal.My urge to pick her up and spin her in the air was almost overwhelming. I felt my throat tightening and my eyes beginning to mist.
"I should go find the mic for the announcement then," said Skye, squeezing my hand before disappearing and leaving me with Norma.
"Sage..." said Norma warmly as we watched Skye flit off. Her voice had dropped the formal tone. "I'm going to tell you two things, okay?" I nodded. "First, Skye had this locked up. I know you know how talented she is, and of course put a lot of work into this show. She one hundred percent deserved the fellowship. But she insisted that I look at your work, despite knowing it would have stayed unconsidered otherwise. I'll let you make of that bit of information what you will."
Norma's assertion threatened to push me even further toward breaking down. I managed to nod back.
"And second, your work... regardless of how Ms. Saavedra might feel about you personally, you wouldn't be holding that envelope if I wasn't impressed with your portfolio. And Sage? I am impressed."
Her last word dripped with a sultry tone I never would have expected from a woman her age, but there it was.
"Your drawings, especially those where you were, ahem... more involved with the subject, are moving in a way very few artists can capture." Norma let out a long sigh through a wistful smile. "Those two made me feel like I was instantly twenty again." Her voice trailed off and the noise of the gathering surrounded us for a moment.
"If you can continue to capture the emotions of the viewer like that... you have a spectacular talent. If you want to be an accountant, that's fine. But please, give this a shot?"
"I'll think about it, I promise," I said, realizing I was already ninety percent ready to march to the counsellor's office in the morning.
"Oh, I forgot to mention. The fellowship includes boarding in the two-room apartment here at the studio. You'll have full access to the building, all the supplies, etcetera."
Two bedroom apartment? Whoa...
"The back door to the living area is accessible from the catwalk," she said with a grin, nodding upward. "I think you and Skye might have almost been able to see it while you were up there."
Oh shit...
I could feel my cheeks going red, which made her giggle.
"Don't worry about it," she said in a low voice. "I'll have the hat cleaned."
I fought the urge to clap a hand over my mouth.
"Okay, think we're ready," said Skye as she bounded back, oblivious to the conversation, mic in hand.
I gazed between the two women, still awestruck. Skye did the customary tap-the-mic a few times to get the attention of the crowd, then launched into an obviously rehearsed short speech. My brain was grinding too hard to register much of what she said before handing the mic to Norma, who... I dunno. I still lacked the capacity to listen properly.
The crowd eventually erupted in polite clapping and a few cheers as they announced me as the recipient, at least I think that's how it went down. The more I watched Skye smiling and talking to the audience, every few seconds flashing me a look.... something was happening.
After another ten or fifteen minutes, the hubbub died down. People went back to eating their canapés and browsing the works on display. Every one of Skye's roommates made a point to come congratulate me. Bridge's chest crushing hug threatened to almost squeeze the air out of me. Finally, Skye and I were left alone. She pulled me into a much gentler, closer hug.
I thought about what she'd done for me, what she'd given up. As I held her, I had to control my breathing to keep my near-breakdown in check. She sensed it and pulled her head off my chest to look up at me.
"You wanna get outta here?"
I nodded.
"M'kay. Don't move, I'll be right back."
She disappeared, but was quickly back. She'd pulled on her light purple hoodie over the top of her dress, and a pair of leather sneakers had replaced her heels. She extended her hand and I took it.
As we made our way toward the back of the gallery, she nonchalantly reached behind the small bar and grabbed a full bottle of champagne. The server only smiled and nodded.
We exited the space through a back entrance, and after winding through a few connected hallways, burst outside. Skye giggled and took a long pull on the champagne before handing it to me. I did the same.
I stared at her for a long, quiet moment on the sidewalk, bathed in the glow from the street light.
"Stop lookin' like you're gonna cry," she said with a lopsided grin. "You should be celebrating!"
I forced a smile and took her hand. "Come on, let's walk."
We started strolling nowhere in particular through campus. Thursday night wasn't quite raucous, but there were still people out and about. Nobody seemed to give a second thought to our bottle of champagne, which we passed back and forth until it was empty.
The delicious tiny bubbles and alcohol helped calm my nerves. Finally I was able to assemble my thoughts into something coherent, and spoke.
"Why did you do that?" I asked genuinely, trying to keep the still-fresh what the actual hell were you thinking? out of my voice. "You coulda had that fellowship, Norma told-"
"Do I need to defend my actions?" she cut in, poorly feigning offense before her grin threatened to stretch her lips all the way to her ears. "I did it because you deserve it."
"No, I don't."
"Yes you fucking do!" she said seriously. "You saw those people in the red room, how they reacted."
"They were looking at you," I said with a chuckle, "you're hot, no, you're gorgeous."
"Well, it was me in the drawing, obviously, but it was how you captured that moment between us, how it made them feel." She let out a long sigh and dropped the champagne bottle into a nearby can. "It could have been any girl."
I stopped in my tracks and took her other hand. We were on a block with relatively few lights and I could only make out the shape of her face and the reflections in her eyes.
My brain warred with two sets of emotions that were stronger than any I'd experienced in my life. The gratitude of the gift I'd just been given had already pushed me toward bawling a couple of times, but I knew that wasn't the one I needed to get out in words. The other powerful feeling coursing through my veins just needed to be out in the open now. Unambiguously, without question.
"I don't want it to be any girl."
I released her hands and reached up to her cheeks. She came to me willingly, our lips slowly meeting and melting into each other. I could taste the bubbly wine on her tongue. The kiss wasn't frenzied, but slow and full.
"Me either," she finally said as we pulled apart.
The alcohol working its way into my bloodstream began to assert itself. I knew the words about to leave my mouth were true, even if old Sage would have been terrified to say them.
"Well that's good, 'cause I think I'm kinda falling in love with you."
Even in the dim light, I could see her expression soften, a hint of amusement lighting up her eyes.
"Took you long enough."
We kissed again, still slow and gentle as the revelation of the words washed over us. I couldn't gauge how long we made out, there on the dark sidewalk. Although perfectly wonderful as the times we'd kissed before, something was different now, something new. We finally pulled apart for air and wordlessly started walking again, both sensing that something had changed.
We strolled, fingers interlaced as the evening wore on into night. We chatted idly about school, friends, nothing in particular. Even though my entire future had just changed in an instant, it felt amazing just to talk and be near her, just walking through campus in the dark. During a lull in conversation, my inner accountant piped up.
"You know how much money you gave up with that fellowship, right?" I'd done the math in my head, even for Skye with only one year of school left, it would have been more than fifty grand, maybe more if you counted supplies.
"I really was just doing it for my resume," she said offhandedly. "My grandparents pay for school. I mean I'm sure they would have been fine keeping their money, but they're pretty loaded. Plus, from what you said, sounds like it would really help your family out."
"Yeah," I chuckled, "it certainly does." I had summed up the six-figure benefit that it would provide me, but kept that number in my head. I'm sure she'd already calculated it too.
We finally talked about my plans, what sort of classes I'd take with my new major, everything new and shiny and exciting that wasn't accounting.
Campus quieted down as we got into the small hours of the morning, just talking and laughing as we meandered. The conversation had been woefully one-sided for a while and I finally flipped it around.
"So... you'll be a senior next year. Excited about graduating?"
"For sure," she said. "Got some cool projects to work on. Haven't decided if I'm gonna TA for Jan. Not looking forward to finding a new place."
"Whaddya mean? Aren't you staying in your house?"
"Only Dev and I are juniors, everyone else is graduating in a couple months and leaving. Ana might stay here for grad school, but she hasn't decided yet."
"Well that sucks, I guess you could—"
I stopped in my tracks as the idea flashed into my brain.
"What?"
"Skye..." I said slowly, "I have a two bedroom apartment." I watched as her face went kind of slack. "If you and Devyn don't mind sharing a room, you could live with me."
I could tell she was trying to process.
"Or, if Dev is really more of a private person," I said, grinning like an idiot as I screwed up my courage, "you and I could share a room."
Her face quickly beamed out a wide swath of her beautiful, manic pixie dream girl energy.
"Well, isn't Mister Hawthorn Fellowship getting cocky in a hurry?"
I roughly pulled her body against me and kissed her. She melted into my arms and hummed an adorable little noise into my mouth as we made out.
"I think I am."
She gazed up into my eyes. "I like it."
Despite half a bottle of champagne in my belly and having been up for nearly twenty-four hours, I wasn't tired. It wasn't the inspired to draw until three in the morning energy, but more like just never wanting the moment to end.
We kept walking and talking and laughing as the sky began to change colors above us. There wasn't a cloud overhead and the pale pink light painted the horizon. The predawn temperature began to drop and Skye shivered, just her slinky dress covering her legs.
Just ahead was her house, she led us right up to the front steps. There were a hundred things I still wanted to say to her, questions to ask, but I knew we had time now. I didn't want to suggest that I'd simply stay by her side until she told me to go, but we walked up to her front door and she fished the keys from her hoodie tummy pouch.
I realized how cold I'd gotten and shoved my hands into my jacket pocket. My fingers quickly tangled in her thong I'd stashed there. I ran the silky material between my fingers and got an instant flashback to our time on the catwalk. My cock went to three quarters full in the time it took her to put the key in the lock and twist it.
I nearly crashed into her as the door opened, spinning her around for another deep kiss as we tumbled inside. She reciprocated, wrapping her arms around my chest and forcing her tongue into my mouth. The bulge in my pants pressed into her stomach as we kind of walk-shuffled into the house.
Like a movie where the new lovers have finally gotten away from the crowd, we began to shed clothes. Part of me wanted to pause our activities and wait until we were in her bedroom, but that part quickly disappeared. My jacket and shoes, then pants fell to the living room floor with her purple sweatshirt. Skye worked at my shirt buttons as we neared the kitchen. I shrugged it off as she spun around to let me unzip her dress. I helped her out of the shimmering fabric and it pooled on the floor.
"I will never get tired of this," I said in awe, gazing at her nude form in the dim light.
Skye smiled and hooked her thumbs in my underwear, pulling the last of my clothing off. My aching cock sprang free and pointed straight at her. She rested her hands on her hips, striking a cute little almost-pose.
She wants me to lead, I thought, watching her watch me. I got this.
Using my larger frame and the work I'd put in at the gym, with little effort I lifted under her arms and set her up on the kitchen counter. She looked surprised and a little confused.
"I was gonna—" she said, glancing at my hardness.
"Nuh uh," I cut in, leaning forward to kiss her. "My turn."
I nibbled on her lower lip, sucking it in my mouth before working my way down her neck. I spent a few moments with each perfect breast, eating up her little moans and gasps like candy. Bending nearly in half to kiss down her taut stomach, I finally got down on my knees. Skye slowly spread hers.
I gazed up at her from my vantage between her legs. She threaded her fingers into my hair and gave a slight nod. With a gentle tug, I pulled her a little closer to the edge of the counter. I took one of her slender legs, then the other, and rested them on my shoulders. Her cold thighs brushed against my ears as I approached. I inhaled as I got closer, the heady and musky scent of our earlier activity mixed with the sweet soap she must have used.
Not knowing exactly how to start, I turned my head slightly and began to kiss the soft skin of her inner thighs. Gentle, chaste kisses that I would put down, then pick up as I got gradually closer. Her warmth was obvious as I neared. I gulped as I turned back to gaze at her slit. Skye's pink outer lips already glistened with moisture. Without another thought, I kissed them. The heat radiated into me, the dizzying idea of what I was doing made me almost lightheaded.
"Yes, Sage," she cooed from above, gently rubbing her fingers on my scalp.
I had the brief thought that I knew how to kiss. Certainly this was different than the other kind, but it couldn't be that much different, right? My growing need combined with a nice champagne buzz suggested I should just go for it. I began to simply kiss her beautiful lips. I pulled one, then the other into my mouth, savoring her natural juices. My tongue finally got involved as my kissing trended toward the French variety, swiping the length of her opening before finally pushing inside.
"Oh, yes..." she whispered, adding another hand into my hair on the other side of my head. "You're doing just fine, baby."
Hearing her use a pet name just amplified the chemicals running through my brain. I allowed a brief descent into the more analytical corner of my head and remembered where I should probably go next. With a long, wide swipe of my tongue like licking an ice cream cone, I swiped up the length of her slit till I got to the fleshy hood around her clit. The slightly-harder nub rubbed against the tip of my tongue and I swirled around it in a lazy circle.
Without breaking contact, I gazed up at her. The lusty look in her eyes was just as addictive as the sounds she made. I briefly withdrew my tongue and closed my lips around her button with some light suction, just enough to make her legs squirm on my shoulders
"Okay, now you're doing really good," she squeaked, one of her hands moving gently toward the back of my head.
I took her direction, not that she was necessarily holding me there. I dove back in, alternating between ice cream licks up her delicately swollen lips, and tonguing her beautiful clit. I knew that when her hips began to move in time with my ministrations that she was close. I wanted so badly to experience the release with her that I considered using a free hand to stroke myself, but I somehow abstained.
"Oh, fuck..." she swore, "I'munna cum, I'munna cum so good!"
Skye's entire body tensed rigid for a moment. Her legs squeezed my head almost uncomfortably, unfortunately blocking her adorable sounds from entering my ears. Instead I was treated to her body starting to vibrate in time with her release. After each wave, I swiped at her button with a little less contact, a little less force. She finally went limp and I pushed her up a bit so she wouldn't topple forward off the counter.
My mouth and chin were sopping with her wetness. I stood and trotted to the sink, using my hand and a paper towel to quickly wipe off. I quickly returned to her, cock wagging in front of me. In the dim light I could see my head was already wet with my own excitement. Having adequately cleaned my face, I didn't wait for permission to attack her mouth with mine. My tongue searched longingly for hers, almost like a substitute for what I wanted so badly to do.
We broke the kiss after a moment and she whispered in my ear.
"Sage sweetie, any time you make me cum like that, you don't have to wait for permission."
Wait for permission to kiss her? Or—
"Put that beautiful cock in and fuck me."
A sharp breath filled my lungs and I paused for just a moment, admiring her sitting there on the counter, legs still spread open for me. I closed the half step between us and almost giggled. The counter was at the perfect height and I found the swollen purple head of my manhood lodged against her entrance, just above the Formica.
"In," she demanded, her lips parted just slightly.
All I had to do was push my hips forward. I sighed out my held breath as I sank into her warm sheath. My earlier oral attentions had left her dripping and hot, and it took almost no pressure to slide fully inside. As my hips pressed into her thighs, the delicious feeling now enveloping my shaft were almost too much.
Skye slowly wrapped her legs around me, locking them behind my ass.
"My lord," she moaned, "it's like you were made for me."
I let myself pull out just to the confines of her legs around me, not more than an inch or two. Gently feeding her my cock in another slow thrust was the most amazing feeling I could imagine. I held her against me, her perfect breasts flattening against my chest. The growing perspiration between us allowed her chest to slide against my skin. Her hard nipples grazed my pecs in time with our breathing.
I never wanted this moment to end, but I knew it had to. The aching need in my guts increased the tempo in my hips, little by little. It was almost as if she knew I was trying to prolong the inevitable and tightened the grip around me with her legs. I only had maybe an inch of play to gently but insistently plunge inside her willing body, but my god it was just the right inch.
I felt her arms pull me closer and she rested her chin on my shoulder as I continued.
"I'm almost there," I whimpered, feeling the familiar pressure building in my core. "I'm gonna cum soon..."
My brain was a train going a thousand miles an hour on two parallel tracks. The first held this soft and delicate creature in a protective embrace, knowing I'd use my own body and soul to shield her from anything in the world, to keep her safe. The second knew that she was clever and witty and more beautiful than anything that could possibly need protection. If anything, she was charging ahead and simply letting me follow her. Whichever track was the true path, I wanted to race down it with her, every day for the rest of my life.
"Please," she pleaded in my ear, "cum inside me."
She unclasped her ankles and let her legs fall, giving me full range of motion. She pressed her head into my chest and hung on my torso with her arms.
A function of pure biology, my hips ramped up the amplitude, quickly getting to full thrusts. I could feel the cool air on my slick shaft as I pulled nearly all the way out before plunging back into Skye's promised land, burying myself in her warmth. The sound of our wet skin slapping together started to fill the kitchen.
I imagine most guys can pinpoint the exact moment I'm talking about. There is a split second span, whether you're having a nice date with your right hand or happen to be buried to the hilt in a perfect silver-haired pixie, when you know you could stop... where literally only one more stroke is going to make you explode.
It was that exact moment when the overhead kitchen light blazed to life. The shock made me shut my eyes, but I could still hear footsteps and excitedly whispering voices. From the level and direction of sound, I thought they were probably in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. From our place on the end of the peninsula, there was obviously nowhere to go or hide.
The adrenaline pulsed through my veins as I teetered on the precipice.
With what limited brainpower I had, I could tell Skye's head was on my shoulder opposite the interlopers' view. She wouldn't be able to see them directly without moving, and I didn't feel her going anywhere. With my straining cock still stretching her insides out, she whispered in my ear.
"Roommates?"
"I think so," I breathed out.
I thought I heard Skye giggle, and the sensation transmitted through her core muscles, down to the ones gripping me. The tiniest bit of extra pressure in her tight cunt started the cascade and my body took over. One deep stroke, then two, then three.
In five seconds, I was pounding into her like a man possessed.
"Oh, fuck," she moaned rather loudly.
I'm quite sure I heard a small chorus of aroused oohs and gasps from the hallway, but the flood of dopamine and oxytocin overrode any other objections as I began to pump my load into Skye's willing body.
"Fuuuuuck..." I groaned in her as the third, fourth, fifth hot jets pulsed into her warm, velvety pussy. I turned to look at her roommates, still partially shrouded in the hallway shadows, and made sure to raise my voice enough that they could hear.
"Good morning, ladies."
* * *
Six Months Later
Skye and I stood in the small room just off the atelier. My thin robe hit a few inches above my knees, which she thought was adorable in some kind of dorky way, I just thought l looked like I was wearing a kimono. I knew in a few moments, it wouldn't matter.
My breathing had finally calmed down enough to hear the dull roar on the other side of the door. It was louder than I'd thought it would be, at least according to my own memory.
I gazed at Skye, her now blonde hair a little longer, with a light blue stripe down the left side that she usually tucked behind her ear. Her skin glowed like it always did, and the confidence shining in her eyes made me feel like I could do anything.
Despite what she'd just done, I made a point not to let my eyes wander down her robe to the delicious cleavage visible in the narrow slit. Again, it wouldn't matter very soon.
"You ready to do this, baby?" she said brightly.
"As long as you don't leave me alone up there."
"Not a chance."
I leaned down and kissed her forehead, the electricity where we touched still as tingly as the first time. She took my hand and gave it one last squeeze.
Listening intently, I heard a familiar calming voice and made out her words.
"Alright everyone, calm down, recenter."
"I guess we're on," I said, gathering up my courage.
"You're gonna do great," said Skye encouragingly.
Just then, I noticed a glistening drop of milky liquid at the corner of her mouth. I stretched out the tie of my robe and wiped gently at it.
"You had... just a little—" I bit my lip to stifle the shit-eating grin, she mirrored it back to me.
"Your fault," she said, arching an eyebrow at me. "Listen, if you can keep calm up there, maybe you can get some extra credit after class."
"Me keep calm?" I said, arching an eyebrow at her. "If I remember correctly, it wasn't me who had a hard time keeping calm the first time we were on that plinth together."
Skye giggled with her adorable, bright laugh.
"Maybe we'll just have to give them something more exciting to draw..."