I hung out with Kimberly all the time back then. She was a cute girl, but she hung out with the boys, like a boy. That being the case, she wasn't a girl we chased. None of us did. I can't speak for the rest of the guys in the crew, but acting like she was just one of the guys was a bit of an act for me. There'd been a hint of flirtiness between her and me in the past, but it was pretty much just a footnote to a storyline that was pure friendship.
One morning she came by my apartment to get me out to do stuff. I was still in bed, and she was putzing around the room just talking about whatever, stuff to do mainly. She got tired of waiting and told me to get out of bed. She was sitting on the right corner of the bottom of my bed, and my closet full of clean but unfolded laundry was on the other side, near the head of the bed. Not feeling like I was pushing the boundaries of our casual relationship too much, I slipped out from under the covers and turned to the closet. I was naked and more than half hard as mornings would have it. I knelt just inside the closet door to grab the first pair of underwear and jeans I could find. Looking back and being honest, a deep seed of that part of me that definitely saw her as a woman prompted my decision, because it got off on the idea.
As I stood up, back still to her, she said, "Hey, lemme see that." She was pointedly nonchalant in her tone.
I just stopped moving for a second and she followed up with, "Your dick. It's hard. I wanna see it."
I dropped what I'd picked up and turned around to face her. She watched me go through a five second transition from a little more than half hard to impressively swollen and pointing at the ceiling. Voluptuous with black curls wasn't my usual modus operandi, but with Kimberly in particular, I was certainly enjoying this new freedom of taking in her beauty in such a blatant and open way. She was neither shy nor brief with her gaze, and I struggled to fight off any demons of self-consciousness. To lock in the casual spirit of what was happening, and to keep from fidgeting, I turned to walk over to the CD player on the shelf across the room. I had to pass right in front of her, prick bobbing with each step. I milled through the CDs, not really registering what I was looking at.
"Would you have had a hard on if I hadn't been in your room with you naked like that?"
"Most mornings, yeah."
"And you'd jerk off, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah...I suppose I would." I settled on a Ween CD. Pure Guava. I slipped it into the player and hit play.
"So my being here... umm, it's kind of interrupted your- routine I'm guessing."
I just took a deep breath. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd interrupted my "routine". Her gaze returned to my situation for emphasis as she said that word.
"I want to see you do it," she added, more coyly than casually now.
"Seriously? You mean you want to watch me, like, get myself off?"
"Oh come on. You're practically dripping. I'm pretty sure you need to do it as badly as I want to see it."
I took the liberty of touching myself, not with purpose; just the way one does in an environment of privacy.
"I'm excited by the idea. I'm not gonna lie. I'm just a little worried I'll be violating something or breaking something. It's hard for me to articulate I guess."
"Seriously, the only thing you'll be violating or breaking is the shroud of bullshit that keeps us from ever even discussing this sort of thing in the most abstract terms. I'm telling you to fucking jack off for me. I think that means I've already broken whatever goddam thing that could possibly break."
"OK then, I want to see your tits."
I was testing the water, and the mood seemed to call for that vulgarity. I wasn't sure she'd allow me that much control of the script, but she immediately pulled her red v-neck sweater off over her head and reached back to unclasp her bra. Her breasts fell free, and my urge reached the point of fever. I'm not even really a breast man, and bigger tits never did all that much for me. This was incredibly hot though. They challenged my prejudices with their youth. Their- how to say it without being trite of puerile- their levity.
"You want me to just stand here and do it? You want me to lie down in bed like I'd usually do it. Shit, I don't even know where I should cum."
She laughed, "Where would you usually cum?"
It was a little embarrassing to divulge what was almost always a private event but, "In a washcloth, I suppose."
"Come stand in front of me where I can see it up close. Don't even worry about where you're going to cum. Just let me see."
So, I walked around the bed and stood right in front of her. I started to manipulate my balls a bit with my hand and pulled them back so the skin on my cock stretched tight. I was about to move my hand to my cock when she stopped me.
"Wait a sec," she hesitated. "Can I slap it?"
"You want to slap my fucking dick?" Almost a laugh.
"Yeah. Not really hard, but it's so... fucking stiff. I just want to fucking slap it and watch it... you know, bounce back in place. Please?"
I sighed and, somewhat to my own surprise, agreed. She took my dick between the tips of the middle finger and thumb of her left hand at about mid-shaft and gave a couple little squeezes. That pressure alone was almost completely overwhelming.
"OK. I'm going to slap it three times, but first I want to clean some of this stuff off," she said, wrinkling up her nose but still with a playful eye. "Otherwise, it's going to go flying everywhere when I smack you."
She moved it back and forth, tilting her head with each motion to suggest an official assessment of what needed to be done. She leaned in and positioned my penis with her finger hold so it would meet her lips. She pushed her bottom lip to the underside of the head, and using her fingers to pull the skin taut she pulled her lip back to the tip, gathering the pre-cum that I was producing at an almost startling rate. Locking her eyes onto mine, she used her top teeth to draw the wetness off her lip and into her mouth. Her lips came together as she swallowed just that little bit, and she repeated the action with her top lip and bottom again, several times over, until she'd pretty much dried it completely. She brought her left hand up and gently took my balls in her fingertips, caressing the underside of them with her fingers. It was such a tender series of motions that the shock of her slapping my cock was like falling into an unseen pool of water. It really wasn't unpleasant at all. In fact, I was excited by my awareness that she was about to do it again.
Her gentle attention to my balls seemed to take on the purpose of making up for an injustice, like a tender, tactile apology. Her eyes though, they were searching mine for the reflection of the sting of the slap. And again, she struck it from the other side with the back of the same hand. It bounced back and forth several times, and it felt like the drawing of the my very skin under that motion was stroking tension underneath it.
"Oh nooo, you made more wet stuff. I guess I'll just test my theory about it flying everywhere with my next slap. You know, when that moment comes."
