21. Griffin
Griffin
“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.” – The Notebook
“ L et’s go.” Julie yanks my arm suddenly, making me stumble on my steps as I wince at the wetness in my pants.
I don’t think I’ve come in my pants since I was what? Like fifteen? What an interesting coincidence…
“When did you get so strong? And where are we going?” Look at that, I didn’t even slur this time.
“My humble habitat.”
“You have to be more clear because knowing you it could be your home or the middle of the mountain, somewhere with lots of flowers or radishes. You know, I really wanted to see your radishes.”
“Home. We’ll keep the middle of the mountain with lots of flowers for our wedding.” She hiccups.
“We’re getting married?” Is it just me or do I sound way too excited right now? But I think she just said I get to have her for the rest of my life, so why wouldn’t I be excited?
“That’s the least you could do after you defiled me at the beach and put my noble honor in question.” Julie hiccups again and I think it’s just the cutest darn thing ever.
“I can do that.” Why did I just puff up my chest like a peacock? Wait, what are we doing again? Oh right…getting married.
“What’s the most I can do?”
“Huh?”
“You said the least is marriage. What’s the most I can do?”
Julie stops dead in the middle of the dark street, lit up only by the stars above and a few lit up windows, puckering her lips in thought. Why don’t we have lampposts like all normal towns? Or maybe we do?
Who cares about lampposts…I just made out with Julie Lovinski. I did more than made out with her, and the stupid grin stretching over my numb features is a sure proof of that.
Just what did we drink?
Scratch that, I don’t want to know. It made me fall into my own dream, so I’ll gladly drink it again and again and again and again and again…wait…
“Why did we stop?” I ask when my brain decides to focus long enough.
“I’m thinking.” She taps her puffy lips with her finger.
“About?”
“What the most you can do.” Oh, right.
“And?”
“Shh, still thinking.” I feel her small finger pressed to my lips and nod solemnly. Can I kiss her finger? It’s a very kissable finger. I start puckering my lips against it when she speaks again.
“I want a house with lots of land so I can plant a mil—no, wait—gazillion, trillion fifty-seven and one plants and flowers,” Julie says and resumes walking, yanking on my arm again. And then she stops. Again, making me stumble right into her. “And babies. I want babies.”
“Babies?” I deadpan. “I can do that.”
A huge smile spreads across Julie’s beautiful face and no matter what, no matter what kind of dream this is, I never ever want to forget this image.
I start patting my pants, looking for something. What was I looking for? Oh right, I need a phone.
“Aha!” I exclaim, pulling mine out from my front pocket. “Julie, Birdy, smile like that again.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want all my babies.” As soon as I say it, her face breaks into that smile once again and I quickly snap a picture of it. “There we go. Now, I can always look at you. Even when you’re no longer mine.”
“Griffin?”
“Hm?”
“Can I have all your babies?” Julie asks with that adorably hopeful look in her eyes like that one cat from that one cartoon and I feel desperation like no other to kiss her again.
So, I do just that. I lean in, wrapping my hand around her slender, exposed neck—God, I love it when she wears her hair in that messy up look—and press my lips to hers. Kissing—no, feeling—her smile.
Before I come in my jeans again—we’ve got to stop wasting babies like that—I slide my arms under her legs and lift her up. Her skirt just fluffy enough to allow Julie to wrap her legs around me, immediately, I feel the heat of her pussy against my lower stomach, and I nearly collapse.
It’s illegal how good every inch of her feels.
And I want to feel all her inches. Every nook and cranny. I want it all and I want it with the one girl I wasn’t allowed to have.
“Which way?”
“Which way where?” she asks, breathless from kissing.
“Which way to your home, we need to start making babies.” Julie whimpers, pulling away from me and squints as she searches for our way home.
“There, go there,” she points, and I take off.
“Griffin?”
“Yeah, Birdy?”
“I love blind drinks.”
“Your door is open,” I tell her when we finally make it up the stairs to her apartment.
“Mm-hmm. It always is.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m always waiting for you.” If words had the power to bring you to your knees, mine would be bent in front of my girl right now.
She’s waiting for me…
“So, I didn’t blow my chance with you yet?”
“No, I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”
“I know,” I whisper and her cute eyebrows crinkle with confusion, but I can’t tell her that I know. I can’t. Even my drunk self remembers that. So, I settle for, “I’m here, little J.”
“Yes, yes, you are.” Her answer is breathless as she sinks her small fingers into my hair, clutching it and fuses out lips together again.
I find the nearest wall and press her against it, needing to kiss and feel her everywhere. My lips hungrily devour hers while her soft but toned body grows more and more plaint under my touch and if I wasn’t already drunk on the alcohol and on her, I’d get there all over again.
One of my hands is cupping and kneading her ass, pressing her closer into my hard-on as the other trails down from her face to her neck, to the curve of her breasts where I get lost again.
God, I’ve never felt more perfect tits in my whole life. But I want more. I need more and now I can have it, because she’s single and she’s having all my babies.
Without hesitation, I yank her top down, exposing her naked tits—because of course Julie doesn’t wear a bra—and those beautiful pebbled nipples are looking straight at me.
I swipe my thumb across one, and then I do it again and again, each time eliciting a sweet little mewl from her.
Even in the darkness of the night and my state I note the deep pink shade of them. So deep they are almost red.
I don’t expect that.
I don’t know what I expect, though. But this seems fitting.
“They look like ripe cherries and I loveeee cherries,” I tell her.
God, do I love cherries.
“Cherries…do they taste like cherries?” Her voice is breathless.
“I don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“That’s a great idea.” I’m already lowering my head before the sentence is fully finished and wrap my lips around one peak, immediately moaning at the sensation of tasting her.
It’s so hard and perfect and sensitive and I feel us both shifting closer to each other when there’s already no room left between us.
But I need more. I need to be deeper. Farther inside her.
Why haven’t I done this before?
Julie waves her fingers into my hair once again, arching her back and moaning pleadingly, “More, more. Oh, Griffin, please give me more. Touch me everywhere. I want you everywhere.”
With one hard yank, I rip the top off her body completely and taste her other nipple, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh of her breasts as I do so. My other hand is desperately looking for a zipper or a button on her skirt but there’s nothing and I growl in frustration.
“Your skirt. It hates me.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s keeping you away from me. I need to feel your wet pussy, baby. Please tell your skirt to cooperate.”
“Trick it, slide underneath it,” Julie whispers.
I pull off her nipple with a pop. “That’s a good idea,” I tell her and lower myself to my knees, quickly pulling up the layer of her skirt and slipping underneath it.
Houston, we have a problem…
“Birdy, this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m about to come in my pants. Again.”
“You can’t! You need to give me babies, remember?”
“Mm-hmm, I do. But…” I wrap my hands around her bare thighs and inhale deeply, filling my nose with the scent of her arousal and my already hard and aching cock, is crying out in outrage.
“You smell so good.” It comes out like a pained groan.
“Better than any dream I’ve had,” I mumble to myself, pressing my nose into her cotton covered mound.
She’s wet. Soaking wet, and so am I because I’m leaking like a faulty sink.
Pull yourself together, Griffin. This is a serious business. We are making babies.
But I need just one taste. One taste before we go there. I stick out my tongue and drag a long lick across her soaked panties as the musky, sweetness spreads across my taste buds, driving me into a frenzy and I feel her shudder, grabbing onto my head over the fabric.
Go figure, she tastes like cherries everywhere. Her mouth, her tits and pussy.
Red, ripe, juicy cherries. I wrap my lips around her clit, over the wet cotton and suck it in. Hard. Julie gasps, rising onto her tippy toes.
“Birdy,” I groan, palming my aching erection as I look down to it and back up to her sweet pussy. “My dick can’t be sneaky underneath your skirt. And he really needs to fuck you.”
“Griffin.” Julie squirms, her tone so cute and needy. “Forget the skirt. She can’t tell me what to do.” And then there’s a ripping sound and the fabric is gone from around me as she sways on her feet, and I hold onto her tighter.
“There,” Julie pants out. “Now you can fuck me.”
I breath out a sigh of relief, but looking up at her from my knees brings me to them all over again.
God, she looks like a goddess. And I can’t move, can’t do anything but stare at her in awe as the moon shines brightly on her naked form.
As it highlights her fiery hair that is trying to escape the confines of the knot she put it into for the evening.
They look like smoldering embers that fly out of the blazing fire, and I find myself reaching to be closer to their warmth. Trying to catch them.
“What are you doing?” she whispers breathlessly.
“Trying to catch your beauty.”
“Oh…do you think we can put it in line after the babies thing. I think that was first.”