I slowly pulled into the plaza parking lot and parked my car in one of the open spots a little farther away from the mall's entrance. As much as I would enjoy holing up in my room and playing video games or hitting the slopes again, I needed to familiarize myself with the city I now lived in. Just like with my history class, it was impossible to know what had changed and how without experiencing it myself, so I decided the local mall was probably a good place to start.
Parking my car in a nice, sunny spot, I stepped out and crossed the plaza, smiling and nodding at a couple of older girls that were sitting on the bench by the large, flowing fountain as I passed. Both of them blinked at me, surprised, but soon broke out into large grins and waved back enthusiastically. That only made me smile even wider. Back in my old world, girls like that wouldn't have given me the time of day, but now I could make their day just by being friendly with them.
It's a little terrifying to think about, in retrospect. I now understand how some women in my old world ended up so vapid and arrogant. I'd have to be more conscious of my ego if I didn't want to end up a shallow bitch—or this world's equivalent.
I stopped by the bathroom just next to the main entrance to relieve myself before venturing into the mall proper. At first glance, not a lot had really changed: the food court was still the food court, various clothing and accessory shops still lined the halls, broken up by the occasional novelty store, the bowling alley was still at the far end, but I doubted that it was really that simple, so I decided to take a lap around the place and see what had really changed.
The short answer was "basically everything."
Clothing stores were all strongly advertised towards men, plastering half-naked models wearing weird bands around their chests across ten-foot-tall posters, showing off underwear of which I'd never seen the design of before. They were like briefs, but they looked like they were made of silk or some similar material, and had thin, lacy edges and a bulging front, presumably to accentuate their dicks. The chest bands were similarly lacy, and apparently only covered the nipples. I had to guess they were what passed for lingerie in this world, but it honestly just looked ridiculous to me.
Is the chest band like a less-is-more kind of thing? Or is it actually illegal for us to go topless here?
A quick google search told me that it actually was illegal for men to show their nipples in public under federal law, though the same wasn't true for women.
Huh.
The jewelry stores were just as heavily male-oriented in their advertising, though much more modest, displaying photos men in flowing shirts and robes instead of just their underwear, focused on their ears, necks and hands to show off whatever shiny jewelry adorned them. As I expected, necklaces and earrings were more commonly worn by men here, and if advertising was at all a reflection of popular sentiment, then they tended to favor the small, gold or gem-encrusted hoop earrings. I thought for a second about possibly picking some up, but they honestly still looked a little trashy to me. I just wasn't used to it yet.
Plus, I was a little scared to get my ears pierced. Call me a pussy, but I wasn't super excited to have a stranger stick a needle through my earlobe just so I could stick shiny shit inside them.
The shoe stores were also interesting. The sportier shoe store I'd passed was definitely geared towards women (though there was a sizeable section for men's running shoes, as well), while the more fashion-oriented shoe store on the opposite end of the building carried almost exclusively men's shoes in styles I'd never seen before. I'd half-expected half the stock to be stiletto heels, but the shoes on display looked more like a more "feminized" version of monk-strap shoes, with lower cut tops and taller heels. Some of the shoe tops even fell below the thick double-clasp strap, which I'd never seen on a men's shoe, but did kind of remind me of those women's boarding school shoes. The heels also looked kind of weird to me; they were still block heels, but they were noticeably slimmer than the non-heeled versions, whose heels looked more like the monk-straps I was more familiar with.
I ended up being intrigued enough that I actually went in and checked out what else they had in stock.
A lot of the shoes were pretty similar to the ones in the display window, with fairly minor differences, such as heel thickness or height, strap width, collar height and material. Some of them came in pretty unexpected colors, as well. I had expected the black and brown leather, as was normal for dressier shoes, in my experience, but they also came in white leather, grey suede, metallic gold and silver, cherry red, and so on. There was even a really gaudy turquoise pair sitting on a display stand inside.
Yeah, I'm good.
Maybe I'd spent a little too much time window shopping, but I was pretty sure I didn't have any formal shoes, so knowing what was socially acceptable for different functions could really help later on.
Could also ask my parents. They'd probably know a thing or two.
Having parents that worked in the fashion industry came in handy from time to time.
I didn't end up buying any shoes, since I didn't have much cash in my wallet, and I had no clue how much was in my bank account—if I even had one in this world. Something I should probably ask my parents about. In the meantime, though, I stopped at the food court and ate a light lunch before continuing to explore, planning to take a closer look at what else the mall had. The clothes and shoes were nice and all, but I wanted to take a deep dive into one of the things I was personally most interested in: video games.
Luckily, this place had both a video game store and an arcade.
I popped into the game store first, which I figured would give me a bit more time than the arcade to just look around and digest everything. A few girls dotted the inside, occupying various different sections as they browsed and talked between themselves. Two of them were there together, gesturing animatedly at one of the titles on the shelves while the cashier sat behind the counter, trying not to die of boredom. The girl behind the counter looked pretty thin, her cheeks were dotted with acne and her short blonde hair was thin and a bit oily, but she had a very cute face; it just looked like she hadn't quite grown out of those awkward teenage years. She was probably a late bloomer.
If I had to bet, she probably flirted like one, too.
I took my time meandering through the store, staring at the various video game covers. Most of them didn't really catch my eye, but it was interesting how the men and women on the covers were portrayed: women were often either dressed in combat fatigues or knightly armor, or they were entirely bare-chested, tits out, with only a couple of animal skins adorning their waists or draped across one shoulder. A few covers bore women in fancy, aristocratic coats or modified pantsuits, but all of them clearly wanted to portray a different sense of "coolness," in a traditionally masculine sense—at least, the kind I was familiar with. People probably considered those traits "feminine" in this world, I assume.
After making the rounds, I eventually picked up what looked to be a popular game with a topless, muscular Viking woman on the cover. The game didn't look exceptional, but I was pretty sure I owned the console that the game was for, and the main character apparently had her tits out the entire game, so I figured I might as well pick it up for that, if nothing else. I was really just using it as an excuse to chat up the cashier, anyway. With any luck, her shift would be ending soon.
I stepped up to the register and slid the game cover across the counter. Our eyes met, and she immediately glanced down at my collarbone and arms before pulling her eyes back up to meet mine. Her cheeks were slightly red, but I couldn't tell if she was actually blushing or if that was just her complexion. The acne wasn't really helping in that department, either.
"Hey. I heard this game was pretty good, but I don't know anything about it. You think it's worth picking up?" I began, setting the case on the counter.
A smile broke across her face, making her infinitely more attractive, even despite the greasy hair and dark circles under her eyes.
"Yeah, it's really good! I picked it up on release, it's totally worth it. It's got a lot more puzzles in it than you might think, since it's like a Viking game and all, but they're all really cool, and the combat's fun!" she explained, eyes shining with enthusiasm. She already looked so much livelier than she did when he first walked in.
"Yeah? What's it like? Is it super difficult?" I asked, feigning interest. I was hoping it'd be on the easier side, since it wasn't a game I really gave a shit about, so if I ended up playing it for reasons beyond looking at the main character's tits, I'd rather not have to sink a ton of effort in to see the rest of the game.
"It's got adjustable difficulty, but I don't think normal mode's too hard. The hardest part's probably the puzzles," she explained. "And you can always look those up online."
"Sounds good," I agreed, only half-paying attention, more focused on memorizing the curve of her hips. I glanced up at her eyes after responding though, purposely taking note of how tired she looked. "Hey, you okay? You look like you could really use a break."
She nodded slowly, her smile dimming a little as she shrugged. "Yeah, I had a late night. Forgot I had morning shift."
"Gotcha. Out partying?"
"Something like that," she avoided the question. "I missed my alarm, actually. Totally slept through it. I woke up like an hour before my shift started, so I didn't have time to shower."
She cringed slightly after saying it, probably realizing that most guys wouldn't want to hear about how she hadn't showered before going to work. I didn't particularly care, though.
"Yeah, I've been there," I commiserated. "So, when is your break?"
She blinked, slightly taken aback, before recomposing herself. "Uh, my break's in like, forty-five? I should have an hour off for lunch, then my shift ends at four."
"Fantastic," I grinned, leaning on the counter, letting the wide collar of my shirt fall and expose a bit more of my chest. It probably wasn't smooth or subtle, but I was mostly relying on her teenage hormones to carry her interest. "You know anywhere good to eat around here?"
"Uh…" she stammered, eyes immediately falling to my chest. "Yeah, I guess. What are you looking for?"
I shrug, trying to show off my plunging neckline a little more. "Whatever's good. I'm not picky. Just don't know what's good and what isn't."
She nodded, only barely able to tear her eyes away from my cleavage (if my chest counted as such). "Uh, I usually go to the pizzeria a couple blocks south. It's called…Pizza de Corso, I think?"
I pulled out my phone and input the name into the GPS before showing it to her to make sure I had the right one.
"Yyyep, that's it," she nodded, smiling at the end in an attempt to be polite or professional or something. A little difficult, considering she'd just been staring at my chest for the past few minutes, but the effort was commendable.
Granted, I was the one trying to get her to stare in the first place. Her reactions were too cute to not want to keep teasing her.
"Sounds great. Meet me there?" I offered, keeping my tone light and flirty, hoping to keep her interested without making her think I was trying to scam her or something.
She blinked, taken aback. "Uh…you sure?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I asked rhetorically. Hopefully, she wouldn't seriously consider that question and try to think of a reason why I wouldn't be. I understood the confusion, but given the amount of guys I'd heard back in my world say that they wished girls asked them out more often, I thought asking girls out here would be met with a lot more enthusiasm. If guys back home were this hesitant when girls asked them out, I could see why they didn't do it that often.
"Uh, okay, sure!" she eventually agreed. "I'll probably be there in like an hour? That okay?"
"That's fine," I reassured her, unworried. "I can wait for you."
"Oh. Uh…." She stuttered, clearly not ready for such a forward approach. "I'll—yeah. Sounds good."
Perfect. Now lunch was set, and I could pick her brain as to what else this city held, and what had changed without getting looked at like I was a weirdo. As much as I liked and appreciated Claire, if I asked too many odd questions, she'd start to get too suspicious, so I needed to vary my sources a bit. And with a stranger, I could pretend I was new to the city and wouldn't ever have to see her again if I didn't want to.
Plus, having a meal with a girl was rarely a bad time. Especially when she was so clearly interested in my chest. Beauty was only skin deep and all, but damn it felt good being the object of people's desire.
"Jason," I greeted, holding out my hand. She glanced down at it for a second, blinking blankly, before belatedly realizing she was supposed to shake it.
"Hi, Mackenzie," she returned as she took my hand sheepishly. "Nice to meet you."
"A pleasure," I agreed, before pulling my wallet out and laying some cash on the counter. "Also, here. Don't wanna forget to pay."
"Right, right," she laughed, storing the money in the cash register before dropping a few coins into my palm. "Here's your change, have a good day!"
"See you soon," I retorted, grinning as I turned and left the store.
Now, how do I kill an hour?
I had ended up checking out a few of the more niche shops before I headed to the pizza place that Mackenzie had recommended. Most of them were small stores selling specific themed clothing or brands of toys, most of which didn't interest me, though I did consider picking up a longboard at the skate shop. Most of the people inside were there for the shoes, and the skateboard counter was practically collecting dust in the back, but I figured I could probably use one, since I already knew how to snowboard, and it would make walking around the city a lot easier. I toyed with the idea of picking up a skateboard as well, but I wasn't really planning on going to any skate parks anytime soon (if they were even still around), and I had a car, now, so I ultimately decided against buying either. Maybe I'd pick one up when I went to college, but even then, I still probably wouldn't need one. And if I did, that'd be less time spent potentially chatting up some girls I could've been walking with. But at the same time, a longboard could help me stand out a little more….
Maybe I was getting a little ahead of myself, though.
After getting bored of the mall, I eventually headed over to the pizza place, arriving a little early. Opening the door, I was greeted with a very down-to-earth brick-and-mortar style interior, with baseball playing on the various TVs posted in every corner. Posters of classic hot rods and famous players were plastered across the walls. The main counter was well-worn, but not worn down, and the tables were of similar quality. It gave off a very sports-bar atmosphere, but nice and homey, rather than rowdy and trashy.
The tables were mostly empty. A somewhat portly woman wearing a flour-covered apron and a sleeveless shirt greeted me gruffly from behind the counter. I gave a polite wave and smile in return, before sitting down at the table that I thought gave me the best view of the place.
I idly checked my phone as I waited. Claire had apparently picked up the Stormfront trilogy on my recommendation—a series that hadn't existed in my old world, but had been on my bookshelf in this one, so I'd given it a quick read over the past few days and found it pretty good. I still wasn't quite familiar with the nuances of this world's culture that were naturally (maybe subconsciously) woven into the plot and characters, but that was going to be an issue with every book I'd read from now on, so I had to reserve my judgment on anything I thought was odd or unrealistic. But if Claire was going to take my recommendations, maybe I could recommend her all the stuff I'd be reading and then pick her brain to see what she thought about them. If she was more discerning about her entertainment, then she could prove to be a great litmus test.
Hopefully, she actually enjoyed the books. I didn't want her to spend her money on something she didn't like just for my sake.
A few minutes later, the bell above the front door chimed as it swung open and Mackenzie stepped inside, wrapped up in a dark gray parka. Her face lit up as soon as I waved to her, and she nearly tripped over herself rushing over to my table. Sitting down across from me, she gave me a wide, toothy smile.
I still couldn't tell whether she was actually blushing or if it was just pigmentation from the acne.
"Hey," she greeted, trying to sound more relaxed than she looked.
"Hey," I returned, smiling. "I haven't ordered yet. What's good here?"
She shrugged, recovering from her embarrassment a bit. "Most of their stuff's good. What kind of pizza do you like?"
I hummed, skimming through the menu plastered on the wall above the counter. "I've always liked a good meat lover's. But…" I trailed off, noting a couple more off-color items, including a scallop pizza. I'd heard of anchovies on pizza, but scallops? It was so weird, I almost wanted to try it.
Almost.
"Yeah?" she asked, voice cracking a little. "Why that one?"
I blinked, not comprehending what she was asking. "What, the meat lover's? I don't know, it's meat."
She coughed into her elbow, turning away from me. "Yeah, I guess so," she croaked out.
"What, it bad here or something?" I asked, feeling a little defensive. Maybe this was one of those odd cultural disconnects, but I've always liked meat lover's. I'm sure it was heresy to most Italians, but it was like pepperoni on steroids.
Then again, for all I knew, they put bull testicles on their meat lover's here. I guess I'd find out.
"No, no, it's fine!" she assuaged me, waving her hands defensively. "I just, uh, don't know many guys that like meat lover's, y'know?"
"Gotcha," I said, not understanding at all, but playing along regardless. "You mind if I go order, then?"
"Huh? Oh, don't worry, I can pay!" she protested, standing up alongside me as I made to head over to the counter.
"Alright. We can go order together," I agreed easily, gesturing for her to take the lead, since she was familiar with the place.
Mackenzie rattled off an order of pepperoni and sausage pizza to the woman behind the counter, who gave her an odd look before pointedly looking over at me. I just smiled politely, not really sure what she was implying, but it gave credence to the theory that there was something odd with meat on pizza. Whether or not it had to do with me being a guy, I wasn't sure, but I wasn't gonna get too hung up on weird social taboos that I didn't know about.
Mackenzie just shrugged helplessly and paid for the pizza, while the employee continued to eye me strangely all the while.
We sat back down at our seats after being informed that our order would be ready in about fifteen minutes, but Mackenzie clearly had no idea how to start a conversation, so I decided to break the ice myself.
"So, how's working retail? Is it as rough as everyone says?" I asked, gesturing mildly.
"Oh my fucking Dea, you have no idea," she practically deflated, every bit of tension draining out of her. "I wanna punch like, every other customer. And I have to sell them on our stupid subscription shit, 'cause my boss makes me, which makes it so uncomfortable for both of us."
Dea? Who the hell is that?
"Sounds rough," I commiserated. "Do you at least get discounts or something?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I get thirty percent off on anything I buy, which is like, half the reason I got the job in the first place."
"Gotcha. What's the other half?" I asked, hoping I wasn't being too prying.
"Parents wanted me to, since I'm not going to college," she admitted, shrugging in a what-can-you-do sort of fashion.
"Ah, yeah, that'll do it." I reflexively reached for my cup, but realized I didn't actually grab one.
Eh, I'll get it later.
"What about you? You go to college?" she asked, leaning forward interestedly, exposing a bit more of her neckline. She hadn't changed out of her uniform before she came here, since she probably didn't have the time to, but despite the unfortunate game store uniform polo she was forced to wear, I was pretty sure she'd clean up very well, given the opportunity. She didn't have much in the way of assets, being almost stick-thin, but she had a very cute, lithe build that would really flourish if she ate a little more and put some time in the gym to get some definition. She'd probably do really well in sports, too, if she put her mind to it. Maybe basketball or tennis—something that required stamina and leg strength.
"Eh, not yet," I hedged, not wanting to admit I was still in high school for fear of weirding her out. "I'm taking some time to see what I really want to do first. I don't wanna spend a bunch of money and then find out I hate my major, y'know?"
"Yeah, I feel that. It's part of why I haven't gone," she agreed. "Haven't really figured out what I wanna do."
"No big career plans?" I asked semi-rhetorically. I didn't really expect her to; I didn't have any, either. Especially since I'd been thrown into a completely new world whose rules I still didn't fully understand. Maybe I could just try and marry some rich chick and eat her out every day so that I didn't have to do anything. If Claire liked my dick that much, maybe I had a shot at being a trophy husband.
Nah, probably not. A virgin liking me doesn't mean rich bitch playboys—playgirls? Who can get guys any day will, too. I'd probably just be another one-night stand to most of 'em.
I wasn't arrogant enough to think that I was trophy-wife status. Even here, there were probably a lot of guys hotter than me that were just as willing to put out on the daily for a lavish lifestyle.
Mackenzie shrugged, looking over at the counter casually. "I mean, I'd like to be a streamer, but that's not like, something I can count on."
"Well, hey, it's a start," I tried to encourage her. "Plus, even if it doesn't become a career, it'd probably still be fun to do as a hobby."
"Right. Only issue is I need to be funny," she joked self-deprecatingly. "And maybe clean up the pizza face."
I smiled, hoping to be supportive. "I'm sure you could do it. Hell, I'd watch you."
"Yeah?" she grinned back at me, her smile dazzlingly bright. "Maybe I'll have to run a test stream, see how it goes."
"Tell me when and I'll tune in."
The pizza arrived shortly after, and we both dug in, which slowed the conversation pretty heavily, but that let me shift the conversation to what she knew about the city. I asked some leading questions between bites about what other places around the area were must-sees, what were places to avoid, and what cool historical buildings and landmarks the city had—which she complained felt like she was back in class being grilled on a pop quiz, but she was a good sport about it.
She actually knew quite a bit. Her knowledge of the local neighborhood was invaluable, letting me know what places to frequent and where to avoid, but she also knew a decent amount about the history of the city (through her mom, who was a local government employee, apparently). From what I understood, there were multiple historical buildings and landmarks here that didn't exist back in my world, and a few of the ones I knew about didn't exist here—the Space Needle being the most prominent example.
Once the last slice had been eaten (I had skipped breakfast today), I grabbed us a couple drinks for the road and opened the door for her.
She gave me a strange look, which made me realize that I was probably supposed to let her open the door for me, but I had already committed, so I held it and let her walk out before me.
"I coulda had it," she protested lightly, the barest hint of a whine creeping into her voice. I waved her off, though, since it wasn't a big deal in my book.
"You can get it next time," I promised, not quite registering what I had implied—but Mackenzie definitely did.
Her head whipped around, sending her hair flying in all directions. "Really?"
I blinked, only just realizing that I'd basically promised her a second date.
Well, shit. I guess I'm committed now.
"Well, as long as you're good," I grinned, poking her nose with my index finger as I passed. "You've got sauce on the edge of your lip, by the way."
She cursed, immediately wiping her mouth with her sleeve, before realizing that was probably gross to do in front of a guy and stopped herself. I probably should've had some tissues to offer her, but I only had a little travel package of them in my car, so I couldn't really do anything to help salvage the situation and instead let the conversation slow to an awkward halt.
Maybe this was why women carried so much shit around in their purses all the time. I guess guys in my world took that for granted.
"Alright," Mackenzie began, bringing me back to the present, "I've gotta get back to work. It was really fun, though, thanks for coming along!"
Her earnestness brought a smile to my face. "Thanks for having me. I appreciate it."
"Alright, so long!" she waved goodbye, turning to leave, before suddenly stopping and turning around. "Oh, right. Could I, uh, get your number before I go?"
"Oh, right. Yeah, no problem." In all honesty, I had forgotten as well. "Here, tell me yours and I'll send you a text."
She quickly showed me her number, which I proceeded to enter into my phone before shooting off a text containing my name and a smiley face. She smiled back at the text, showing off her cute little dimples before she waved goodbye one more time and left, drawing my attention to her lower half as she did.
Damn, she's got a nice ass.
Maybe I'd have to hit her up again after she clocked out.
Brandon had texted me while I was trying to familiarize myself with the area, so I ended up inviting him to hang out with me. I picked him up from his place (which I had to ask him for his address again, since I wasn't sure if he still lived at the same address as back in my world), then brought him to a bowling alley, both because it was something we hadn't really done together before, and because I wanted to see his reaction when we got there.
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow incredulously at me. "Out of everything we could do, you wanna go bowling?"
Worth it.
"What?" I asked, a little defensive. "Who doesn't like bowling?"
"I suck at bowling," he complained, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.
"Come on, it'll be fun," I encouraged, shutting off the car's engine and unbuckling my seatbelt. "Just don't take it too seriously."
"Ugh, you're just gonna kick my ass," Brandon whined, reluctantly getting out of the car. "It's been forever since I went bowling."
A stupid, mischievous grin crept across my face unbidden as the dumbest joke I've thought of in a while popped into my head. It wasn't funny, and he was definitely gonna hate me for it, but I couldn't stop myself.
"Well, I don't even remember the last time I went bowling, so we should be fine," I told him, a shit-eating grin on my face.
He responded with the flattest, most deadpan, so-done-with-you look I've ever seen in my life.
Worth it.
"Whatever. Let's just go," he groused, shutting my car door forcefully and stalking past me.
I followed him into the building through the sliding glass door and was immediately assaulted by bright technicolor lights shining down from the ceiling. Automated swivels swung the multicolor beams around the floor, giving the place a clublike vibe, but if the club were hosting a kid's birthday party rather than a raunchy rave scene. Multiple families occupied the various alleys, alongside a few clubs and friend groups consisting of mostly college-aged and mid-twenties adults, all of which were just as rowdy as the kid's birthday party group, making the place much livelier than I expected. But then again, it was the weekend, so maybe I should've expected this.
I originally only planned to come here for the novelty, since I hadn't been bowling since like, middle school, but if this place was this popular every weekend, I might come back in the future. Could be a decent way to meet new people.
Stepping up to the counter and renting out a lane for two, I was handed a couple pairs of shoes and was told to pick out whatever size ball I wanted from the rack. I grabbed a nine, not bothering to think much about what weight I'd do best with, while Brandon ended up going back and forth between a seven and an eight. While he deliberated, I went over and ordered us a big basket of tater tots and ketchup and registered us for a lane, picking out one that was close enough to another group to potentially strike up a conversation, but not so close that it was weird. The alley wasn't full enough for me to reasonably take the lane right next to them, so I took the lane next to that one instead.
After punching in our names on the scorer, Brandon told me to go first. I stepped up to the line, getting into what I thought was proper form, swung my arm back to build momentum, and released it on the return, sending it right into the gutter.
Yeah, not my best performance.
I managed not to gutter the second one, but still only hit four pins, hammering home how long it had been since I'd last bowled. Brandon picked up six on the first throw, but ended up with a pretty nasty split, so he only picked up eight. I commiserated with him about it, just loud enough to get the group next to us to notice us.
Honestly, I probably didn't even need to do that. They probably would've noticed us eventually, regardless. But hey, I didn't mind a few extra eyes on me.
Most of them looked to be in their twenties and thirties, dressed semi-casually. I wasn't sure if they were a bunch of coworkers, a group of friends or a dedicated bowling club by their state of dress, but all of them were surprisingly really good. I watched three of them bowl a strike before remembering that I was also in the middle of a game and quickly played out my second frame, getting a lucky bounce on one of the pins and managing to pick up a spare. Brandon congratulated me on it, but my attention was still mostly focused on the ladies.
I didn't know why, but one of the girls in the group looked slightly familiar. She wore a lavender turtleneck sweater and loose jeans, which did very little to cover her generous figure, and had an almost permanent slouch in her posture, like she wasn't confident enough as a kid and the posture stuck with her throughout adulthood. She wasn't the youngest in the group, but she didn't look like the oldest, either—somewhere in between, maybe. She had fairly long dark hair that framed a thick-rimmed pair of glasses, as well as an attractive heart-shaped face (very soft features all around, I liked that), and she stood at an even height with the other tallest member of her group, despite her bad posture. She was probably taller than me, and I was almost six feet.
I'd also been staring too long, because she eventually noticed me. She peered over in my direction while one of the other ladies in her group was taking their turn, and began to turn back to her lane before catching me staring out of the corner of her eye and whipped her head around to look at me, befuddled. I froze for a second, thinking that I'd made some social faux pas, but her expression being more confused than offended reminded me that excessive staring probably wasn't considered creepy if a guy was doing it.
Hopefully.
My nervousness abated, I shot her a quick smile before turning back to my own game, taking aim and sending my ball rolling down the lane—where it landed in the gutter well before it reached the pins.
Well, shit.
I laughed it off, doing my best to ignore my wounded ego and brush off Brandon's teasing. I managed to pick up seven on the second roll, at least.
Brandon was solidly winning by the time that we'd gotten over halfway through the game, and I'd already given up any semblance of hope that I'd beat him, but that was fine. It wasn't like I had sunk any real time into bowling before, and it let me make eyes at the tall girl a couple lanes down between turns and banter with my friend. She still seemed familiar to me, and I hadn't figured out why yet. I doubted we'd met before, even back in my world (I was pretty good at remembering faces), but there was something about her that I thought I recognized; I just couldn't put my finger on it. Maybe I was seeing something in her that reminded me of someone else—one of my mom's friends back in my world, maybe—but even if I was misremembering, there was something about her that drew me to her.
Besides her obviously huge tits.
We silently flirted with each other from across the way, stealing glances and sending smiles as our friends kept dragging us back into our own games. Our little cross-room footsies equivalent definitely wasted a good amount of time, and ended up annoying both of our friend groups. Brandon even jokingly offered to leave, which forced me to actually pay attention to our game.
Eventually, though, the final frame ended, and I lost one hundred and twenty-one to seventy-six. Brandon had found his rhythm in the second half and managed to bowl a few strikes, while I never managed any. I was a little disappointed at how poorly I did, but I reasoned that I hadn't gone bowling in like five years, so it was expected. What I was surprised about was how well Brandon scored, considering how he was whining about it beforehand, but I congratulated him anyways, only giving him a little shit about his earlier whining.
Letting him reset the game, I went and bought us drinks like the graceful loser I was. On the way to the counter, though, I threw another smile back to the woman in the lavender sweater, waiting to see if she'd follow me over to the counter so I would have a chance to talk to her. I didn't keep staring at her, though, since I didn't want to make her feel like I was up to something.
Eventually, while I was filling up the drinks at the soda fountain, the woman slid up next to me, hesitantly saying hi.
"Hey yourself," I returned, turning to face her properly. She definitely looked older than I did, and the dark circles under her eyes weren't doing her any favors, but her skin was surprisingly smooth otherwise. She had a nice face shape as well, slimmer than I had initially judged. I had thought she was on the chubbier side at first, but it didn't show at all in her face, so that could've been her massive tits distorting the shape of her sweater and warping my perception of her. I wouldn't know without seeing her shirtless.
"I'm Jessica," she introduced herself, holding out her hand for me to shake. I clasped it and gave it one good solid shake, giving her what I hoped was a charming smile.
"Jason," I reciprocated. "Nice to meet you."
"You, too," she agreed as she let go of my hand.
I felt like something was tugging on the back of my mind. Something about her seemed familiar, but I knew for a fact we hadn't met. I wouldn't have forgotten tits like hers, no matter how much time had passed. But something about her still made me think we'd seen each other before, and I wasn't sure what.
"Hey, uh, this might sound weird, but…" she trailed off, eyes shifting nervously—deep blue eyes, now that I got a better look at them. "Have we met before? You seem…."
"Familiar?" I finished.
"Yes!" she nodded, clapping excitedly, like I'd managed to pluck the word directly from her mind.
"Yeah, I was just thinkin' the same thing," I agreed. "I'm pretty sure I'd remember someone as pretty as you, though."
Jessica blinked, taken aback, just like every other girl I'd flirted with. I was starting to get used to the signs, I think—it was honestly an easier adjustment than I thought it'd be. Like most guys from my world, girls here weren't ever flirted with so forwardly, so they were generally surprised, then suspicious whenever I'd start to hit on them. It didn't do much to engender trust between us, but all the ones I'd talked to had been so excited by the opportunity to potentially get laid that they basically let me lead them along by the nose, regardless of their suspicion.
Honestly, I wasn't all that different back in my old world. If I wasn't so enamored by the prospect of more sex, I probably would've broken up with my ex a lot sooner.
"…You don't mean that," she mumbled, shying away from me.
"I do," I told her sincerely, looking her in the eyes. "You're very pretty, Jessica. You should be more confident in yourself. Stand up straighter. It'll do wonders for you."
She visibly swallowed down her nervousness, and straightened her spine, puffing out her already ample chest even further. "Would…would you be willing to, um, like, give me yo—any more advice on what else I could do to help my, y'know, uh…" she stuttered, tripping over herself trying to force the words out, slowly hunching back over as whatever she was trying to say got stuck in her throat, her newfound confidence entirely gone.
"Yeah, totally. Here, gimme your number and I'll text you about it later," I said, ignoring whatever she was trying to ask, instead whipping out my cell and holding it out to her for her to take. She hesitated to take it from me, though, hand hovering in the air indecisively as she pondered whether or not I was being genuine.
"Is, uh…is this alright?"
"Yeah, it's cool," I replied without looking at it, shoving the cell phone haphazardly back into my pocket so I could pick up both drinks. "Hey, I've gotta get back to my friend and finish up our game, but I'll text you sometime tomorrow. Sound good?"
She smiled, nodding brightly. "Yeah, sounds great! Thanks!"
"Cool. I've gotta get back to my game, so I'll hit you up later. So long," I told her, grabbing my order and heading back to my lane. Hopefully, Brandon wouldn't be too annoyed with me for taking so long.
"Alright, talk to you soon?" Jessica asked as I turned around. I threw a nod and a wink her way as I headed back to my table, which by the expression on her face, had made her day.
We eye-flirted the entire second game, glancing at each other so frequently that Jessica's friends began to notice and poke fun at her for it. Brandon just gave me an exasperated look when he caught me.
Yeah, I'm definitely hitting her up later.
I couldn't wait to see what those tits felt like.
I had just dropped Brandon off at his place, ready to head home, when I received a text from Mackenzie.
Mackenzie: What are u up to
Me: You off work?
Mackenzie: Yh
Mackenzie: Just got home
I pursed my lips thoughtfully, drumming on my steering wheel. My parents were expecting me back for dinner, and while my parents in my old world probably wouldn't have asked too many questions, they (my mom especially) seemed a bit more protective of me here. I suppose that made sense, but it did irk me a bit that I was now lacking some of the freedoms I used to be able to enjoy—even if I rarely used them.
Eh, I'll see where this goes first.
Me: Cool. Went bowling with my friend, just dropped him off
Mackenzie: Neat
Mackenzie: Wanna come chill
Mackenzie: Makin food
Well then.
I wasn't expecting her to be so blatantly forward. Her parents probably weren't home if she was inviting me over, and was clearly hoping for me to potentially put out, but the offer of home cooking from someone who was interested in me was pretty tempting—as long as she actually knew how to cook.
Me: Ooh, what are you making?
Her: Rigatoni Bolognese
Me: Never heard of it
I'd never heard of Bolognese in my life, but I knew that rigatoni was a type of pasta, so I assumed she was just making some spaghetti with like, one extra ingredient to make it sound fancier or something. Typical teenager bragging or whatever. But I supposed it was worth trying, just in case I was wrong, and I was happy to spend more time with her regardless.
And if she was hoping to get a little extra out of it, I wasn't about to rain on her parade.
Mackenzie: Its like spaghetti but different. more meat and less tomatoes
Sounds interesting.
I didn't answer her immediately, instead opening up my contacts and calling my dad (I nearly called my mom, but I was worried she would have more questions for me).
"Hey, sweetie," my dad answered the phone, throwing me for a loop. My dad and I had interacted a few times since I'd awoken in this world, but his more open, soft affection still caught me off guard more often than not. My dad from my old world was a pretty quiet guy, so words of praise or affection were pretty rare from him. Usually he'd just ruffle my hair and give me a smile if he was proud of me, so hearing him use cutesy nicknames for me was pretty strange, to say the least.
Hopefully, that affection came with a little more lenience.
"Hey, dad," I started, trying to sound casual. "Brandon invited me over for dinner, so do you mind if I eat over at his place? Tonight's leftovers night for us, I'm pretty sure, so I figured it wouldn't be a big deal."
"Hm? Uh…" he paused, probably held up by something work-related. "Sure, sweetie, that should be fine. I'll let your mother know."
Excellent. As long as mom didn't call me and start asking questions, I was in the clear.
"Alright, thanks, Dad! Love you!" I expressed, releasing the e-brake and inserting the key.
"Love you too, Jason. Buh-bye."
"Bye!" I hung up on him, turning the key and starting the engine before swapping back to my messaging app and letting Mackenzie know that I'd be there, I just needed her address. A few seconds later, I received one, plugged it into my GPS app and took off.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled through the gated entrance of a small plaza lined with quaint little townhomes, the ones closest to the gate all surrounding a central administrative building. Parking seemed plentiful enough, but as I passed the administrative building, the main street split off into a winding set of small side streets that allowed access to each individual townhouse garage.
According to the address, Mackenzie's place was near the back, so after a bit of trial and error (the streets inside the complex weren't labeled, so it was hard to figure out exactly where I was turning), I finally found her townhouse. After parking in a nearby open spot, away from any snow piles, I stepped out of the car, locked it, took a quick whiff of my breath to make sure it didn't stink, then stepped up to the door and knocked, shooting off a text to Mackenzie telling her that I'd arrived just for good measure.
The door swung open, and Mackenzie was standing across from me in a tee shirt of some band I'd never heard of and a pair of form-fitting, low-cut sweatpants that emphasized her hips very well. She'd clearly just showered, by the dampness in her hair and firmness in her nipples, which were visibly poking through her shirt. If I had to guess, she'd also brushed her teeth right before I got here as well. It's what I would've done in her position.
"Hey, you made it!" she greeted, inviting me inside with a wave.
"Hey, thanks for having me," I returned as I entered her home, giving her a quick hug to see how she'd react—and to feel her nipples under her shirt. They weren't quite glass-cutting hard yet, but I could feel them rapidly stiffening against my chest.
"No—uh—yeah, no—no problem," she stammered. I could practically feel the blood rushing to her face as I held her close.
Letting her go to give her a breather, I stepped inside, catching a whiff of what was presumably the Bolognese. It smelled a lot like meat and onions and tomatoes, which I certainly wasn't going to complain about. My stomach was practically rumbling already.
"Smells delicious," I complimented her, taking off my shoes at the door. "How long until it's ready?"
"Just a couple minutes. Bowls are in the top right cupboard," she pointed toward the kitchen.
"Cool," I acknowledged, making my way to the kitchen and grabbing two bowls. "Utensils?"
"The drawer right next to you," she informed me, shutting off the stove and giving the sauce a quick taste before mixing in the cooked pasta.
I set the bowls down next to her before pulling a couple napkins out of the holder and setting them on the table while Mackenzie plated our food. After garnishing them with a bit of chopped parsley, she brought the bowls to the table and set them down as I pulled out her chair for her. She gave me a weird look for that, but went with it regardless and sat down, and we both dug in shortly after.
The food was as good as it smelled. Sweet, meaty, tangy, earthy and complex, with a depth of flavor that I wasn't remotely equipped to properly describe. I'm no food critic, but this was definitely a lot better than normal spaghetti and meatballs.
"Holy crap," I said through a mouthful of food before remembering my manners. I made sure to chew and swallow properly before speaking again. "This is amazing. You made this all yourself?"
Mackenzie nodded, eyes glimmering with pride. "Mhm! Well, the pasta's from a box, but the sauce is from scratch."
"It's amazing," I complimented. "You could be a frickin' chef if everything you make is this good."
She shrugged, looking away, her cheeks slowly flushing pink. "Eh, I guess…."
"No, I'm serious. You should be some rich guy's personal chef or something if you normally cook like this," I told her sincerely.
She deflated a bit at that. "I dunno, you usually need to be a pro chef at a real high-end place to get that kind of opportunity. And most of those want you to have a culinary degree, and those're expensive and take forever to get. It sucks."
"Ah, damn," I commiserated. "That's pretty rough."
"Yeah," Mackenzie sighed.
A few seconds of silence passed between us as we ate. Despite how much I was enjoying her food, I was worried I had brought the mood down. Hopefully, changing the subject would lighten things up—even if I wasn't all that slick about it.
"So, is college really that bad? I've never been, but I was sort of planning on going."
Mackenzie immediately snorted, leaning back in her chair and pointing at me with the fork in her hand. "Anything you've heard about university is bullshit. It's gross, it's expensive, the dorms suck, most people are just there to party, so it's hard to sleep with music playing every weekend, and it's so expensive to go. Plus, most majors won't even help you get a job. Its only good point is the food, and even that's overrated."
"Jeez. Why does anyone go, at that point?" I asked, half-joking.
"I don't know. Parental pressure or something, I guess," she shrugged, gathering another bite of pasta on her fork. "Might try and find some local cooking classes, see if I can make some connections through those."
"Cool, cool," I nodded, not able to contribute much given how little I knew about cooking. "Well, if I ever become super rich, I'll hire you as my personal live-in cook. How's that sound?"
"Depends, how's the pay?" she leaned in, grinning.
"Negotiable. Probably national average, maybe a little more. Plus benefits, if you're good," I flirted back, slowly twirling my fork in the pasta, deliberately spearing a few noodles before taking a bite, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time.
Mackenzie faltered. Her grin gave way to a half-lidded, openly lusty stare, heat building in her cheeks as she became very interested in the exposed skin below my neck for a moment. She managed to recover after only a couple seconds, but the atmosphere had already changed. The air between us was charged with tension, and we both knew it wasn't going away anytime soon.
"Oh? What kind of benefits?" she asked, not nearly as lightheartedly as before. There was a hunger in her eyes that wasn't present before, and I was pretty sure it wasn't for food.
"Wanna find out?" I asked, pushing my mostly empty bowl to the side and giving her a saucy grin.
"What if I do?" she challenged.
I leaned forward, pushing my chest together a bit with my arms as I played with the collar of my shirt. "Then come get a taste, blondie."
Before I knew it, she was straddling me, running her hands eagerly up my shirt as she enclosed her lips around mine, giving me a sloppy, inexperienced kiss. I was caught off guard for a second, but quickly found my rhythm and gave as good as I was getting. I broke the lip lock temporarily to take off her shirt, and she used the opportunity to rip mine off as well, before going right back to our make-out session.
I slipped my tongue into her mouth, which surprised her, allowing me to take the lead for a bit. Leaning her back, I kept her from falling with one hand as I removed her bra with the other, my tongue still exploring the insides of her mouth even as her bra fell to the floor and her now-bare chest pressed against mine. A moan slipped out of her mouth as her stiff, puffy nipples scraped against my skin, the sensation of which sent small shivers down my spine. Her delicate fingers trailed down my back, tracing the strained muscles I was using to keep her from falling backwards as we made out.
I wasn't sure if it was because she wasn't a virgin or because she was just older, but she seemed more experienced than Claire was. Maybe she was just more confident in herself, but the way she ran her hands down my back like she was trying to memorize the feel of every muscle while she wiggled her ass against my crotch had my dick straining through the confines of my pants.
Mackenzie had managed to regain her footing and pushed me back against the chair while she undid my jeans, forcefully sliding them down and freeing my cock from its prison. I decided not to fight her, and instead continued to run my hands gently up and down her arms. She sank down until she was at eye level with my shaft, lightly tugging and stroking it, almost as if she were conducting an examination. She whispered something I didn't quite catch under her breath before she glanced up at me, the head of my dick hovering barely an inch from her lips, her eyes silently gauging whether or not I wanted this, which made me absolutely throb in anticipation.
"You said to get a taste," she joked, wrapping her hand around the base of my cock.
"I did," I agreed.
Without further hesitation, she took the head of my cock into her mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop. My legs tensed at the sudden sensation, glute muscles flexing as I tried to keep from bucking my hips and shoving my cock into the back of her throat. Mackenzie's breath hitched, but she quickly recovered, inhaling through her nose as she sank her head further down my shaft, getting about halfway down before I hit her esophagus. She gagged, her throat and stomach convulsing as she steadied herself, pulling back just enough to be able to breathe again. I gently ran a hand through her hair, the other clamping down on the back of my chair for stability.
"Relax," I half-whispered, half-hissed. "Don't hurt yourself for my sake."
She pulled herself off of my dick, glaring down at my spit-covered shlong defiantly. "I can get it. Just surprised me is all," she declared, before trying once again to cram as much of my dick in her mouth as possible.
Huh. Never would've thought she'd have an ego about blowjob skills.
I supposed I should've, though; it was pretty obvious in hindsight. Most guys back home tied their ego to how well they could pleasure their women. I was no exception, but I guess I never consciously translated that idea over to this world.
Well, can't hurt to let her try.
She was pretty damn good, too. I didn't know if blowjobs were supposed to feel this intense (my ex had only given me one, and she hated it), but it felt almost painfully good, kind of like eating especially sour candy. I had to grip the side of the chair like my life depended on it and bite my tongue just to keep from being overwhelmed by her fervency. She had my dick in a vacuum, and the twin sensations of the slick-but-unyielding roof of her mouth and her soft, pliant and undulating tongue had me feeling like I was about to simultaneously blow my load and black out at the same time.
"Shit, shit, shit," I hissed, pushing against her head lightly with my hand, but Mackenzie apparently sensed how close I was, because she redoubled her efforts to take me into her throat, sucking me down even harder, even as she gagged and sputtered, ever determined to milk me of everything I was worth.
I couldn't hold it any longer. With a grip on her shoulder and a hissed announcement of my impending orgasm, my hips bucked, shoving my dick deeper into the back of her mouth, causing drool and spittle to fly everywhere. my vision blurred, and the tension that had been pooling at the base of my stomach finally snapped as I exploded into her mouth. She pulled her head back just a bit and suckled the head of my dick as rope after rope spilled over onto her tongue, closing her eyes and softly moaning as well. I hadn't noticed at the time, but once my climax wound down and I came back to the present, I noticed that her hand had been down her pants, probably the entire time she'd been blowing me.
Mackenzie savored my semen, rolling it around across her tongue like she was tasting wine. After almost half a minute, she finally swallowed it down, sighing satisfactorily as she opened her eyes.
"What'd you think? Pretty good, huh?" she asked, grinning smugly up at me as she rested her arms on my thighs. Her mouth was covered with saliva. Her cheek was smeared with streaks of spit while stringy trails dribbled down her chin. She was a complete mess, but damn if it wasn't sexy.
"It was fuckin' intense," I answered breathlessly, my spit-coated dick flagging a bit as I slumped back in my chair. I needed a fuckin' minute. "No way that was your first time."
"Nah, it wasn't," she shook her head, wiping off some of the excess spit with her forearm. "Had a couple guys in high school that let me practice on 'em. Never let me eat, though; they weren't able to stay hard after I drained 'em."
"Eat? Weren't you already literally throating them?" I asked, not comprehending what she was implying.
"Huh—oh. No, other kind of eat," she tapped at her crotch with the hand she'd just been using to pleasure herself.
Oh.
"Damn, that's kinda rude," I commiserated.
"Eh," she shrugged, "I still got off. 'Sides, I like the taste, so I can't complain."
My flagging dick throbbed, not quite ready for another round, but certainly on its way there. Another minute or two, and I'd be back in action.
I could really use some water, though.
"Hey, uh, do you have any water?" I changed the subject, scratching my throat. Her blowjob had taken a lot more out of me than I thought it would have. I could see why the guys she'd been blowing let her keep practicing on them. She was a killer with that mouth.
"Yeah, no prob," Mackenzie agreed, standing and brushing off her knees before wiping her face clean on her sleeve, then headed back to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water.
My eyes were glued to her ass the entire time.
As she came back with the glass in hand, I decided to give her a little show of my own. I hooked my fingers around the hem of my shirt and slowly peeled it off, pulling it up and over inch by inch, noting how her eyes immediately fell to my exposed stomach and chest, drinking in the sight. Carelessly dropping the shirt onto the ground next to me, I took the glass from her and greedily downed half the contents.
"You, uh…" she swallowed, drinking in the sight of me just as I'd done, noting that my dick was nearly fully hard again. "You look good. You exercise or something?"
"You're not bad yourself," I grinned at her, not answering her question. God, the effect I had on women in this world was intoxicating. All I had to do was put on a little strip show, and I had her salivating like a dog at dinner. If I didn't keep my ego in check, I was gonna end up being known as the next Whore of Babylon.
"Now," I started, "Drop those pants and turn around. I'm gonna return the favor."
"Huh? Nah, don't worry, I came too, I don't need—" she tried to make excuses, but quickly stopped talking as I stood, invading her personal space as I cupped her chin and stared meaningfully into her eyes. My hardened cock pressed against her stomach, and I knew she could feel the heat radiating from my dick through her shirt from the blush intensifying on her cheeks.
"Mackenzie," I told her, trying to inject as much sincerity into my voice as I could muster, "You're beautiful. I want this. Are you really not interested in me?"
"Nonono, I am!" she shook her head, quickly changing her tune. Eager enthusiasm shone bright in her eyes. "I'm totally down!"
I smiled. "Then get those pants off, 'cause I'm gonna fuck you until you see stars."
Her jeans hit the ground before I could blink.
Mackenzie stood up on her toes, grabbing the base of my cock and trying to position it so that she could sink down on it then and there, but I gently removed her hand, put my hands around her hips and guided her to turn around before lightly pressing down on her upper back, bending her over the table. She stared back at me, eyes wide in disbelief as I gave her a mischievous grin.
"Relax," I whispered, leaning in closer. "I've got this. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."
She blinked, still not quite understanding what was happening to her—an expression I was becoming more and more familiar with. Her gaze was laser-focused on my cock, practically vibrating at the thought of what I was about to do to her.
I placed my dick between her thighs, just below her pussy, and flexed it so that it pressed against her pubic mound. The soft, slightly shaggy carpet of unshaved hair prickled the head of my penis, which was a still oversensitive from the phenomenal head that Mackenzie had just given me, so I pressed it against her skin just once more for emphasis, before dragging my dick back up to her hole, stimulating her clit and labia in the process. A quick gasp escaped her, but Mackenzie clamped down on it with a vengeance.
"You ready?" I murmured in her ear. The head of my penis was pressed right up against her entrance, ready to force its way in and plunder her depths at a moment's notice. I could feel her wetness pooling inside her as she wiggled her ass ever so slightly back and forth.
"Yesss," Mackenzie hissed, pushing back against me with her hips like she was the one trying to fuck me instead. I held her still so that I could adjust my angle of entry to a slightly more comfortable one, then slowly began to push myself inside her, doing my best not to hurt her in any way during the process.
Her breath hitched as I breached her wet jewel, which broke into a gravelly, strangled groan of pleasure as I carefully pressed deeper inside her. Just like with Claire, there was little real resistance as I slid inside her, inch by inch, with no sign of a hymen or any other barrier or restricting force. Nonetheless, I kept going, slow and steady, carefully resisting the urge to throw caution to the wind and start pounding her like a drum.
"Mm, just—just stay like that for a second," Mackenzie grunted as I bottomed out inside her. She began to gyrate her hips, slowly grinding her inner walls against my cock, savoring every bit of friction made with every little movement and adjustment. Her breathing was already heavy, almost shaky, and her leg muscles were tensed so hard it felt like they had been forged from iron. Her pussy clenched around me, convulsing as she growled into the crook of her arm, and a splash of wetness enveloped my dick and dribbled onto the floor—her first orgasm of the night.
Well, maybe her second. I didn't know if she had managed to cum while blowing me earlier.
I let her ride out her climax, remaining perfectly still as she shuddered and shook, letting her put her weight on me without falling over. She somehow managed to keep herself upright throughout her orgasm, but that was probably only because I'd stayed fixed in place. I was pretty sure she'd collapse like a wet ragdoll if I started fucking her now.
"Fuck," she managed to bite out, face still buried in the crook of her arm.
"You alright?" I murmured to her, concerned. "Not too much?"
She still seemed a little shaky, but she'd done pretty alright for her first time, despite cumming from me just putting it in. I figured she had probably been edging herself while sucking my dick, and this was just what pushed her over.
"I—yeah. I'm fine," she nodded, not looking back at me. "Just kinda intense. Gimme a sec, then you can start…nnh, movin' again."
"Sure," I agreed, letting her catch her breath for a few seconds, drinking in the lithe muscles running down her back, the flare of her hips, the fullness of her ass. The area surrounding her crotch was already wet with her womanly essence, and I had a feeling it was only going to get messier from here on out.
Setting one hand on her arm, and wrapping the other around to cup her modest chest, lightly teasing her nipple, I leaned down over her shoulder and lightly nibbled on her ear, sending another shiver down her neck.
"Ready?" I whispered.
"Mm," she responded, her mouth muffled by her forearm. She still wasn't looking at me, but nodded nonetheless, so I slowly began to pull out of her, inch by inch, until only the tip remained inside her, then pushed my way back inside until our hips met.
I couldn't hold back a grin at the raspy moan of pleasure that escaped her. She was definitely still a little overstimulated, but she hadn't told me to stop yet, so I was more than happy to keep going until she couldn't take it anymore.
I began to piston in and out of her, taking care to be almost agonizingly gentle with her as she rocked her hips back and forth, shuddering every time I sunk all the way inside her. I ran my fingertips up and down her body, caressing her with feather-light touches that caused her to tense and shiver wherever I laid my hands. She was putty in my hands, malleable and unresisting as I continued to make sweet, slow, tender love to her, and within seconds, she was already nearing another climax.
On the next out-stroke, Mackenzie tightened her warm, wet walls in a way that ground against the top of my dick, just above where the head met the shaft in such a way that had sparks running up my spine. My knees nearly buckled, causing me to inadvertently thrust right into her core far more roughly than I intended, hitting the very back of her insides and sending her straight into another squirting orgasm.
Mackenzie let out a guttural howl unlike anything I'd ever heard before. Her muscles all simultaneously locked up as if she'd been struck by lightning. Her pussy clenched down on me like a hydraulic press, keeping me shackled to her as her insides tried to wring me out like a wet towel. A torrent of fluid gushed out of her pussy, soaking us and everything in the surrounding area. Nothing was safe from her climax. By the time it ended, the floor, one of the table legs and three of the chairs were blatantly marked by the evidence of our deed—and I wasn't even close to done yet.
Her orgasm finally wound down after what felt like forever, and Mackenzie was left trembling in the aftermath, forearms braced against the table for stability as her legs barely kept from giving out completely. Her head was buried in the crook of her elbow, unable or unwilling to look up or keep going. I could feel every twitch and convulsion of her pussy stimulating my cock as I did my best to keep still, but the pleasure running down my shaft and through my core occasionally caused me to accidentally flex my dick, which ground against her obviously overstimulated cunt and started the whole cycle over again. It was like I was chained to her: unable to continue and finish, but I also couldn't just pull out and call it quits. No matter what I did, Mackenzie was too overstimulated, and wouldn't be able to handle me doing either right now, so I was stuck where I was until she managed to calm down enough to let me pull out.
I'd never been involuntarily edged before, but if this was what it was supposed to feel like, I wasn't sure if I was a fan.
A muffled sniffle caught my attention. Mackenzie was still shivering, though not quite as badly as before, but her head was still buried in the crook of her arm, which made me a worried that I'd hurt her somehow. Had my slip-up caused internal bleeding or something? It didn't feel like it, but I didn't know enough about women's anatomy to just assume.
I grabbed her shoulder and shook it gently. "Mackenzie? You alright? Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, still refusing to raise her head and look at me.
"'M fine," she sniffled again, voice thin and watery, clearly not fine.
"Hey," I whispered, reaching out and caressing her head, "If I'm hurting you, we can stop here—"
"Wait!" Mackenzie commanded, turning and grabbing my arm shockingly quickly, holding me in place with surprising strength. "Don't move yet!"
She had definitely been crying. I could see the smudged tear tracks running down her cheeks, the snot pooling in one of her nostrils, the water in her bloodshot eyes. Whatever she was going through, she definitely wasn't alright.
I stood still, my dick softening slightly inside her. Her trembling was less noticeable now, but I was still scared I'd hurt her more if I pulled out.
"Mackenzie," I cupped her chin, wiping off one of the tear tracks with my thumb, "you're hurt. What happened, 'Kenzie?"
"I don't—" she choked off another sob, voice thick with emotion. "I'unno…."
I exhaled. First step, address the problem. I couldn't do that while I was still balls-deep inside her. Even if it hurt her to pull out, if she was injured in some way, sitting here forever wouldn't fix it, and I wanted to make sure I hadn't done any real damage, just to be sure.
"'Kenzie, I'm gonna pull out, okay?" I asked, having decided that tonight was a wash, and helping the crying girl in my arms was more important than getting off.
"…Alright, just gimme a minute." Her grip on my wrist tightened.
"It'll be okay," I reassured, "It'll just be for a second. After that, we can figure out what the issue is. Just for a quick second, promise."
"Wait, wait, I'm not ready!" she protested fitfully, eyes wide.
I felt for her, I really did, but we weren't going to get anywhere at this rate.
"Here, I'll count it off. On three, okay?" I murmured. Her trembling worsened again, practically vibrating around my dick, but my desire to make sure she didn't need medical attention outweighed any guilt I might've had from potentially hurting her by pulling out. "One…two…."
"No, no, I'm fine, I swear—"
"Three." I slid out of her as smoothly as I could.
Apparently not smooth enough, though.
She let out another wail as I pulled out, her entire body seizing up as another cascade of fluid jetted out from between her legs like a fountain. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes, and her legs suddenly gave out as she fell unceremoniously into my arms. I was so startled that I almost didn't catch her; I barely managed to grab her before she hit the ground.
"Holy shit, 'Kenzie. You okay?" I apologized, hoping to God she was still alright.
She was still shaking, but she managed to give me a nod, so I figured if she was actually injured, it wasn't life-threatening. It probably wasn't pain from it being her first time, either, otherwise Claire would've had a similar reaction. Some kind of condition, maybe?
I'd ask her about it after she calmed down. For now, I needed to help her calm down and get comfortable.
I hooked my arms behind her back and legs and picked her up bridal style, hefting her once to adjust her, before carrying her over to her couch and sitting her down, then taking a nearby blanket and draping it over her. I fluffed the sofa pillow a little before setting it behind her back, then quickly fetched my glass of water and handed it to her.
"Here, drink this," I told her, "You lost a lot of water."
"No kidding," she murmured, voice raw and raspy, before drinking deeply from the glass. The splotchy blush running across her cheeks and down her neck began to fade as she drank, her skin slowly returning to its natural color. Once her breathing finally evened out, I put my pants back on and slipped under the blanket alongside her, cozying up to her as I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her close.
"You alright? What happened?" I asked again, gently massaging the shoulder. She only grumbled in response, entrenching herself deeper into the couch and purposefully not meeting my eyes.
I sighed, somewhat at a loss. "'Kenzie, I just want to make sure you're okay. If you don't talk to me, I'll just keep worrying about it forever."
A few more seconds passed in silence, but she eventually relented.
"I'll be fine," she muttered, still not looking at me. "I'm just…It's fine. It was just my first time. I guess I wasn't as ready as I thought." She shrugged, trying not to look as put out as she clearly was. "Now I know what it's like. I'll be better next time."
"What what's like?" I asked, not quite getting her meaning.
Well, that wasn't quite true. I had some idea of what she was talking about (if I had to guess, it was because she had been so easily overstimulated), but there were still too many unknowns about a woman's biology for me to jump to conclusions, so I wanted confirmation from her before I did anything else.
"Y'know. Sex," Mackenzie answered uncooperatively. I frowned. Apparently, Mackenzie had a bit of a stubborn streak, because it felt like pulling teeth trying to get any real answers out of her, and I wasn't really sure how best to deal with that.
Maybe it was for the best that I left, then.
"Would you rather be alone right now?" I asked softly, letting a little dejection leak into my voice. Maybe I was trying to guilt her a bit, but I doubted I was going to get anywhere if I didn't. After all, if we couldn't work out whatever problem she had, I wouldn't have much of a reason to keep seeing her.
"No," she shook her head immediately. "No, it's fine. You can stay."
I stayed silent, rubbing small circles into her shoulder as I cuddled her. I wasn't gonna get anywhere by prying, so I elected to simply comfort her as best I could, and hoped that she'd tell me once she wasn't as worried about me leaving or making fun of her or something.
Until then, I'd just enjoy the comfort of having a cute girl curled up next to me, even if the situation made me feel like a bit of an asshole.
It didn't take long for her to eventually break the silence. She turned over and pressed into my bare chest, cuddling and squeezing me like I was a heated body pillow that she was trying to siphon out every bit of warmth she could.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled into my chest with a deep sigh. "It's just…embarrassing, y'know?"
"What is?" I asked, tilting her chin upward with my finger so that I could he.
She shrugged helplessly. "I wasn't able to make you cum."
Yeah, I thought that's what this was about.
Honestly, this was probably the best-case scenario. If it wasn't about her pride, then it would've probably been an injury.
"You did, though. You gave me the best head I've ever gotten," I told her, fully aware that wasn't what she meant, but it certainly counted for something.
"No, not like that! Like…" she trailed off, resting her hand on her pelvis before sighing exasperatedly. "Ugh. You know what I'm talking about."
"Yeah," I smiled. "It's fine, though. Honestly."
Mackenzie grumbled, shoving her face back into my chest, apparently not above taking advantage of the situation to keep feeling me up. "It just sucks. Like, I can usually last at least a minute if I'm doin' it myself, but what you did was just, like…" she trailed off again. She apparently had a habit of not finishing her sentences or explaining herself all that well.
I stayed silent, not wanting to be the one to have to explain to her that one minute wasn't all that long, either. Claire had lasted at least five or six minutes each time (though I admittedly wasn't keeping track, so maybe my sense of time was off), and she'd only climaxed especially quickly when I started playing with her clit. Mackenzie, on the other hand, was practically the textbook definition of a quickshot.
Now, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The advantage to being a woman was that she could cum basically as often as she wanted, since she lacked a refractory period. She could keep fucking until her partner finished, regardless of how many times he did, which was great from both an enjoyable and evolutionary standpoint. But Mackenzie was apparently sensitive enough that she practically had her own refractory period, and I was only able to really enjoy myself for a few seconds at a time before she came so hard she basically pissed herself and needed some time to recover.
That said, her post-orgasm oversensitivity was something I could relate to, at least a little. I'd felt the same way when she kept sucking me off after I came in her mouth, and I'd noticed Claire was distinctly more sensitive after her first orgasm whenever we fucked, and would generally cum faster on her second and third rounds, so maybe that was just a universal experience. I expected it to just be a male experience, but I guess I just hadn't slept with enough women to really notice.
Or maybe my ex was just faking it back then.
"Hey, I'm just glad I made you feel as good as you did," I tried to assuage her—unsuccessfully, if her expression was any indication.
She sniffed, turning away from me. "I'll be better next time. I'm just having an off day or something."
I smiled indulgently, not believing her for a second. I hadn't ever heard someone give me the "I swear this never happens" speech before. It was honestly kinda cute from the other side. The only issue was that it would definitely happen again, because she was just naturally sensitive, and I wasn't really sure how to fix it. Forcing her down and fucking her over and over until she got used to it sounded a little bit like actual torture, and I doubted it would help, regardless.
Maybe I needed to just stay balls deep inside her for an extended period or three. Hell, maybe there were toys that helped with it. I'd have to do some research when I got home.
"Next time, huh?" I asked teasingly, arching an eyebrow at her.
Mackenzie sputtered. "Well—I mean, if you want to, I don't wanna force you or anything—"
I pressed a finger to her lips to shush her. She shut her mouth immediately, worry visible in her eyes. She was practically a ball of insecurities and hormones at this point, trembling at the thought that I might leave her because she couldn't manage to perform in the sack. Maybe other men would have. Hell, maybe the me from this world would have. I didn't really know the old me, so I couldn't say. But I wasn't willing to give up on her just because of one rough experience. She deserved to be given a chance, didn't she? She put in so much effort for me, taking me out to lunch, cooking for me, giving me the sloppiest fucking blowjob I've ever had in my life, all just to make me happy! What kind of guy would I be to throw out a girl like that?
I know I've said it before, but being this desired is dangerous for my ego.
"Mackenzie, I'm happy to come over again. We can work on it until you're a pro, if you want."
Her eyes lit up like I'd promised her the world. Her lips curled up into a watery smile, and I brought her into a gentle hug before she started actually crying in front of me. It was hard to seem dependable while breaking down in front of someone you've only been on one date with, and I didn't want to take that away from her, as well. I'd trashed her pride enough for one day.
"Thanks," she managed to keep her voice steady as she pulled away, taking a breath to steady herself. "For everything, Jason."
I snorted. "You're the one who did all this for me. I should be thanking you instead."
Mackenzie smiled at that. "Well, promise to come back and I'll promise to cook for you again."
"If you cook like that all the time, I might have to start living here," I joked.
"Sounds good to me," she shrugged, already sounding a lot better than she did a few minutes ago.
I let the silence sit comfortably for a few seconds, enjoying the atmosphere for just a little longer before I had to leave, but it was getting late, so I needed to get home.
"Alright, I've gotta get going. My parents are probably gonna kill me if I'm not home soon," I told her, patting her bare thigh as I stood up.
"Okay," she acquiesced, sounding a little sad to see me go. Again, this world was dangerous for my ego. "Get home safe. And thanks again, for everything."
I smiled, giving her a quick but meaningful hug, doing my best to make it work despite the awkward height difference, what with her still sitting down and all. "For sure. I'll see you s—"
I was cut off by the distinct click of the front door being unlocked. My head snapped towards the door; unease knotted in my chest. The handle turned, and the door swung wide, revealing a man and a woman, both dressed in large winter coats and snow boots, holding a bag of what looked like restaurant leftovers as they wiped their shoes on the welcome mat before stepping into the apartment.
"Kenzie, we're ho—what the fuck?" her father exclaimed as he saw us, his eyes going from my face to my bare chest, then to the discarded shirt and pair of pants lying on the floor by the dinner table.
Well, shit.