Unspoken Pleasure by Erotica

Fuck: You Owe Me: 21 "For a drive anyway." Chris remembered he had to roll sJ's before Simon arrived. He might as well do that now. "Feel like watching sTV?" "Sure." Chris grabbed the necessary materials from his room and they went down to the family room. Becky turned on the TV.

"I love HBO," she said as an episode of Six Feet Under con. "I wish we had it." "It's the only thing worth watching anymore." Chris grabbed a dictionary from the bookcase and set it on the floor with his headphone case in front of him. Inside were two of his favorite pleasures: a pair of Bose QuietComfort headphones and a bag of pot. There were also srolling papers and a lighter.

"You're rolling a joint?" Becky asked.

"Two, actually." "I've never rolled a joint before," she said, sitting down beside him on the floor. "Wanna learn?" "Sure." "Here." He handed her the papers. "You can help me. Take one of those and grab a book." Becky did and sat back down, laying the paper out on top of the book just as Chris had. "First, we're gonna make a filter. Follow my lead." Becky watched him fold the paper carefully, over once, then twice, then a third time. His hands worked slowly and delicately. She looked at his face and saw the concentration. She followed his example.

"Alright," he said, once she had the three folds. "Tear off the corner by the strip." "The strip?" "Yeah, the lick-strip." He pointed it out to her. It was like the seal of an envelope. She smiled. "The lick-strip?" "It's a strip that you lick. A lick-strip. Shut up." He saw her grin and smiled himself. "So tear that corner." She did. He set the bag of pot between them. "Grab a nug and sprinkle it down in the center fold, like this." He took a small clump and pulled it apart, auditigrutenéaves outile paper." She did the same. "Like this?" "Smaller, that's too big." He took sof her sprinkle and tore it into finer shake. "The smaller, the better. Bigger clumps don't burn completely. It's wasteful." "Is there a class for this I wasn't aware of?" "You're in it. I am a doctor after all." Becky laughed.

"Alright, that's enough," he said. He closed the bag and set it aside. "Now we roll it." He pinched the paper closed between his thumbs and forefingers. "Roll it back and forth to pack the weed down and when the front half of the paper gets low enough, you tuck it in" - he did so - "and then roll back up to the top. Keeping it tight." Now Chris had a nicely rolled joint held between his fingers. "And then you lick it -" He licked it where the strip met the paper. "Fellate it." He put it length-wise in his mouth, and Becky laughed again. "Twist it." He twisted one end into a point. "And burn it." He pulled out a lighter and dragged the moist J quickly through the flame, then held it out for her to inspect.

She took it, and it was firm and compact, like a cigarette. "Very impressive," she said. "Now you try." Trying to do exactly as he did, she rolled the paper down between her fingers, and with a little help from him, tucked it under then rolled back up. She winced at how loose it was, but he told her it was fine.

"Now the lick-strip," he said. She smiled and licked it, pressing it down gently.

"Fellate it now, right?" she asked, looking at him.

"You got it. Fellate the hell out of it." She took the joint and slid it between her lips. "Make sure you lick along the strip again." Becky ran her tongue along the underside of the joint and had to smile. Chris did too, then inspected the results. "Nicely done. Now twist and burn." She twisted the tip and used the lighter. Sof the paper caught on fire.

"Oh, shit," she said and blew it out quickly.

"No big deal," he said, taking it from her. He nodded his approval. "Very nice. That was your first?" She nodded back. "I'm impressed." "Thank you," she said.

Chris tucked it away with the other in the headphone case, then smiled and shook his head. "You know, Laura smoked for the first tthis afternoon. And now I've taught you how to roll a joint. I feel like I'm corrupting you guys." "Please. I've been high before. I just didn't know how to roll a joint." She patted his knee. "You're not evil. You're useful." He bowed his head to the compliment. "Thank you." "Besides, it's better than getting drunk. You ever seen potheads get into a fight?" "There's this click I go to school with," Chris said. "We call 'em HPM's: Holy Pre-Meds. They think practicing medicine makes them a moral superiority. No smoking, no drugs, but every night they drop close to three hundred dollars on booze." "I know the kind. It's the swith psychology. There's this girl, biggest bitch ever. She drinks, she sleeps around, and she thinks I'm not fit to be a therapist because I catch a little buzz now and then." "People forget only seventy years ago there was nothing illegal, immoral or wrong about smoking marijuana." He shook his head. "You know how it becillegal? Mexican immigration. Law-makers used it as a scare tactic to drive up public concern over the border." He held up an angry finger. "Smoke one of them Mexican hashish reefers and you'll go crazy and murder every one you love. You'll beca compulsive rapist that violates everything that moves - man, woman, child, and dog. They honestly believed that." "Sstill do probably." "I know when I'm stoned I just want to do terrible things. It's not like I enjoy listening to music or talking with my friends or... No, I'm constantly fighting that damn urge to kill and rape." Becky's laughter filled the quiet house. "This is makingwant to smoke," she said.

He looked at her and she was smiling. Her hair seemed redder in the lights of the family room, softer, and he wanted to touch it. "Well, you're welcto ride with us if you want. Simon said you might be getting in on it already." She checked her watch. "We'll see. Depends when Laura gets back." Then, "Did you know she's seeing a guy from school?" "She mentioned it briefly. Joe something, right?" "Yeah. I walked in on her this afternoon with him." "Really?" "They were in the shower together." "Wow. Go Laura." He swallowed. "You get to meet him?" Her eyes narrowed and she looked off at the TV. "He got sick." She said it like an accusation. "I don't know about that, though. Sounded kind of lto me." She shrugged. "She probably just wanted him all to herself. I can't argue with that." "But you haven't even met him. He might be a total asshole." "Have you met him?" she asked.

Chris took a deep breath. "Uh, briefly." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Is he an asshole?" "He can be." "I knew it." Then she rethought. "Then again, who isn't sometimes." With her leaning in, Chris could smell her perfume. "Are you wearing Angel?" She blinked in surprise. "Oh my god! How'd you know that?" "I had an ex-girlfriend who wore the exact sfragrance." "Oh. An ex." She leaned a little closer. "So is it a good smell or a bad smell now?" The scent was stronger. Chris blinked and saw a flash of memory: Shannon laying on his bed, napping in the late afternoon sun. She was holding his hand. He smiled. "Still good." Becky smiled. "Good." She leaned back and turned up the TV volume. They both sat in silence and watched a little.

Then she said, "So the stepsister's got somebody. What about the stepbrother?" Chris looked at her. "Anyone special for the handsdoctor?" Just a heads up: is the only place to read the complete version of this book for free. Don't miss out on the next chapter-visit us now and continue your journey! Chris started laughing. "Kinda." Then he added, "Not really. I don't know." "Hmm," she said. "Sounds complicated." He laughed nervously. "Like you said. What isn't." "Sex." To hide his surprise he leaned back into the corner of the couch, putting his arm along the back. "Really? You don't think sex is complicated?" "The positions can be, but the ultimate goal isn't." "The goal being...?" She raised an eyebrow. "To cum."

Chris felt his member twitch, and his eyes wandered her face for a moment. Her lips looked soft and moist, and he could still smell that familiar aroma. "What about love? That's a little less user-friendly, don't you think?"

She shook her head. "I'm not talking about making love. I'm talking about fucking. Con, you're a guy and you're gonna tellfucking's E complicated?" Each tshe said "fucking", Chris felt a little surge.

"Love makes sex complicated. Not the other way around." "I see. It's not cheating if you're not in love, right?" "Exactly. Otherwise, it's just something people do." She shrugged. "Healthy." "You're definitely in the right major." She smiled. "Thank you, Doctor." Chris smiled. "And thank you, Doctor." They were both smiling.

Again, Chris's mind drifted back to earlier that morning, looking through the window.

The shirt hugged the smooth mounds of her breasts and he thought he could barely see herm nipples, but he wasn't sure. He knew Snbutshe what she looked like naked, at least from behind, and picturing her that way on the couch with him now wasn't helping the pressure in his pants. "So by that reasoning," he said, "you could have sex with someone and still just be friends." "In theory." "Have you ever stayed friends?" mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLliIofifl0&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1