Its In The Blood Raelynn Pt 01

Lark came back up from under the sheet with that stupid smug grin he gets. He licks his lips slowly, seductively, and kisses the air toward me. Swear... I roll my eyes into damn near my brain as I put my foot to his face and gently kicked him away. He's great and all, don't get me wrong, but the little shit annoys me. Little. Ha! He was a huge dude. Just these stupid things he does make me want to hit him. He was completely pleased with himself, looking at me like he was god's gift to women. Please! Not that he was terrible at all. Pretty decent between the sheets, if I'm honest. I just get the feeling that he thinks he's life's gift to me. No... Sorry. Maybe his thinking like that was just all in my head. I let the thought slip away.

"You think you're such hot shit, don't ya?" I feign annoyance. He wiggled his eyebrows in response, grabbed my foot, and started sucking on my middle toe. "Gross!" I kick him in the face this time. He grumbles and rolls out of bed. I watched him quizzically as he started to get dressed. He was cute, at least. Honestly, he's good-looking as far as men and their appeal go. Anything a woman would want physically. Tall. Check. Strong jawline. Check. Muscular. Check. He was stupid muscular for someone who crawls around a cavern six days a week. You'd think he did some lifting in his spare time, but I've never seen him lifting anything intentionally for fitness purposes. Green eyes that girls just get lost in. These sandy brown curls sat on top. You could see the hints of red in it in natural lighting. He was tan as hell, but I think that's because he might be mixed. It sure wasn't his time in the sun! The man stays inside a lot. Mixed human race, I mean. We're all mixed supernaturally. You'd think it would've been the same for humans by now. I digress...

I hate that term. "Supernatural". What was so super about us? Even before our people could supposedly do some wild things, at the end of the day, we were still just freaks. All the Supers. Every single species. There was no real place for us--just forever wandering and controlling crap from behind the scenes. I could relate in some ways. Most of the time, I feel like I'm in this constant, unfeeling state. Cold to the world around me. Empty and mechanical, like I'm just going through the motions. Then I just get pissed off. There's no in-between. I think I pull it off though.

Lark, being the gentleman he is, brought me a towel to clean up his mess. "That's your splooge. Your mess means you clean it." I sneered. He let out a sarcastic 'ha' as he cleaned it up.

"That's not fair. Spitting's for quitting!" gag! He stuck his tongue out at me and then kissed the top of my head. I smiled up at him. Gross. Was it because I'd known him forever or what? It was incredibly annoying. We complement each other perfectly. We're the ideal duo! That's what he keeps saying anyway. I can't help but think maybe we just aren't right. Or maybe we're all each other deserves. Again, it's not that he's a bad guy! I don't think that at all. It's just... I sighed and followed his lead, grabbing my underwear and slipping it back on.

I'm almost dressed when I notice Lark staring at me. Our eyes meet, and he asks me, "Raelynn, you keep sighing. Are you okay?" Busted. He leans up against the wall and regards my reaction. He's a Goliath of a man, really. He crossed his arms against his sizeable muscular chest and watched me finish getting dressed. Typical man unresisting of a free show. But was I okay? I'm not too sure. I wanted to have sex. I did. Practically ached for it between my legs. I wanted to get it done and over with. Out of my hair and out of the way. Sex and your first time are always so romanticized. I can't imagine it being anything like the movies. It didn't help that I also wanted it to be some special thing with a special person, but maybe there wasn't one for me. It's not that. Maybe there is? Lark just wasn't it. I...

Uhm...

Well...

I don't know, man! There are just these times where I'm questioning, you know? I'll find my gaze drifts off and likes to linger in places. Like maybe Sarah's massive tits in Morrison's class today spilling over her tank top just a little. She kept arching her back, pushing her chest out, trying to get Lark's attention. It's not a new thing either. It happens a lot. I haven't told anyone about it because I don't know. Never gone down that road before, if you catch my drift. I'm not ashamed of the possibility that I am, you know. It's just, once you come out and tell people, they start looking at you in a new way. Interacting with you differently. I watched it happen to Mark Lyle during his freshman year when he told people he was into guys. It's not even that people were mean; it's that they were nice, and it pissed me off to see it. Here's this guy Mark, a completely invisible, normal-looking average guy, who says, "Hey, I'm gay," and then suddenly people are climbing out of the woodwork to be overly nice to him, trying to be besties. Overly inclusive if you can imagine. It all feels so fake. I don't need to be anyone's trophy lgbtq+ best friend.

Plus, maybe it wasn't just girls either. Maybe it's both? Ogling Sarah today should've made it obvious that I appreciate a woman's body. She was tall and thin, but her ass and tits were so huge. Bigger than what should be on her more petite frame. Again... It happens a lot. I tend to push women I find attractive toward Lark. There is a greater chance to be around them and interact if they start hooking up. I should get it out of my head. Our line is carried through the women and I'm the only girl left in our line. It's my duty to procreate. I let out a groan as I began to feel that familiar ache building up between my legs. I realized I hadn't even answered Lark. Forgot what he said altogether. Or did I even hear him? I shook my head, "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

He approached me, placed his hands on my shoulders, and squeezed them lightly, "Ryn, I said your full name, and you didn't bitch me out. What are you doing in your brain right now?" He was so kind and caring. I looked into his green eyes. Maybe it's because I knew that I was safe with him, and he was familiar. We've been intimate many, many times, so we both knew what to expect. I wanted my first to be him. There wasn't a question about that. It was more so the fear that it was not for me and the possible awkward aftermath. I have other friends that I chill with and talk to, but Lark is my leading man. Like I said, we click. He hinted several times that he might want something more, but I nipped it in the bud. Plus, I'm all he's got. He's an almost eighteen-year-old man with zero social skills.

I snap out of my thoughts and brush him off me, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I was thinking about later. Trying not to, though! That's why I brought some pregame!" I grab my gray messenger bag and pull out a pint of tequila and some orange juice. "Let's DO this! Or are you a little bitch, and you need a cup?" I smile the biggest I can muster as I raise and lower my eyebrows a couple of times.

He crosses his arms tight and furrows his brows. Oh great. Here we go. Mister man of reason himself! He's giving me that stern dad look again. "Are you sure you want to do this tonight? Because I know I don't want to if it's going to be something that you have to get drunk to do with me..." He said it with a huff as he cast his gaze to the side. So sensitive. See? It's these little baby temper tantrums. Annoying! The King of Drama himself, ladies and gentlemen! I rolled my eyes at him.

I took a deep breath before I looked him in the eyes and spoke, my voice firm and steady to let him know I was serious, "You're so dramatic, you know that? It's a pint between two, and I had to beg my brother for three weeks to buy it. AND he charged extra to do it even though we can legally buy it ourselves at midnight, the jerk. Look. I want to do this, okay? I'm just nervous. This will help take the edge off. What if it hurts? Do you want me in pain?!" I blurted it out. It had the qualities of a legitimate reason. He seemed to accept it. Good. The pain of popping my cherry was not something I was afraid of, and it's technically already done. Have you ever heard of a dildo? He walked over and snatched the bottle right out of my hand. "Hey!" I pout as it slips from my hands into his.

"I've been a gentleman for long enough today. Dudes first!" He smirks at me, pops the bottle open, and takes a big swig. I offered him the orange juice, but he declined. The big, hard man must feel like he needs to make up for my ego blow. A few more swigs followed. He turned back to me, eyes beaming, "All right, Cherry Bomb! Are you ready to get this party started?"