Marcy s Playground 2 by loyalsock
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Marcy's Playground 8 By Loyalsock free porn video
I cried out, not because it hurt, but because it was so good.
I never wanted it to end.
It was my first time, and it was perfect.
I wanted to yell, 'don't stop, don't stop,' but I couldn't speak.
He slowed down, sped up, then changed the angle a little bit. He pressed his arms down into the mattress, so he was doing sort of a half push-up on top of me and started rocking into me, different, harder, even better.
"Lick," he said. He had his thumb near my mouth.
I licked it. He reached in between us and found that sweet spot on me and rubbed back and forth.
Sparkling firecrackers danced on the edge of my vision.
He let out a primal shout. I exploded, a thunder and lightning storm of strange bursting white light, and I think he came a millisecond later. He collapsed on top of me, suddenly a hugely heavy dead weight.
"Next time will be better," he panted.
"Not unless you want to cripple me," I said.
"Each time will get better and better," he said, ignoring my comment. "And not just because this was your first time. And not just because I'll learn more about your body, and what you like. It will be better every time because we'll be closer and closer together."
He stroked my cheek.
"Because I'll love you even more next time, although I can hardly picture it."
"Next time," I said with awe.
"Next time," he repeated.
I floated in dreamy post-coital haze, a twilight of satiation between sleeping and waking. I could see before me a whole slew of adventures, each one more wild, and decadent, and naughtily taboo than the next. The summer wasn't even half-way over. Jean-Luc had introduced me to sex, but I had a feeling that he, and the crew from Melody's, wasn't done with me yet.
Yeah, it was a slippery slope. And I wanted to slide. Into more and more deep and untamed hotness. Now that I got a taste, I wanted to slide all the way into my own off-the-charts, righteous experiences. A personal, new, completely uncharted territory. Marcy's playground.
Part 3
I can only blame flying high from my very first sexual experience, and having the hottest man on the planet laying on top me, for the fact that what tripped out of my mouth next was pretty dumb.
"I'm an adult now," I mumbled to myself.
Jean-Luc shook his head. "Having sex doesn't make you an adult."
I stared at him.
"Even having responsibility isn't what makes you an adult."
"What does?" I asked.
"Altruism," he said, and rolled off me.
I didn't know what that word meant. I wanted to ask but I was too embarrassed to admit that I didn't know something. How adult is that?
I should just ask.
But then Jean-Luc went into the bathroom and shut the door and the time I could have asked and not have it be weird passed. I would have to look it up when I got home.
Jean-Luc came out of the bathroom and smiled at me. God he was gorgeous. My handsome, gorgeous, smart, virgin-popping, big-word-using boyfriend.
"I thought I would pamper you with a gourmet breakfast in bed," he said. "And for breakfast you have two choices: cereal or cereal. I think I'm out of milk."
"Oh," I said. "Dry cereal is my favorite."
He went into the kitchen. "We have the very upscale super adult Frosted Flakes, or the more subtly bourgeois but still delectable Coco-puffs."
"Oh, decisions, decisions," I said.
"Oh, wait. I also have some Cheerios," he said.
"I'll have Cheerios," I said.
Jean-Luc came out a second later carrying two paper bowls. Cheerios for me and Coco-puffs for him.
"Normally I would have said, let's just eat out of the box, but this is a special occasion."
He handed me my bowl, and then got in bed next to me.
"You look beautiful in the morning, Lafferty."
Aw.
He took a Cheerio out of my bowl and fed it to me. Then he started eating his own cereal with his fingers.
"What?" I asked. "No spoons?"
"Hey. It's a special occasion, but it's not that much of a special occasion."
I gave him a playful elbow in the ribs.
I tried to look at him at out the corner of my vision without really staring at him. I wasn't too successful. I concentrated on my cereal.
It was kind of nice eating breakfast with him. I didn't know how he felt, but the new intimacy of it felt, ah... smiley to me.
"Hey baby, I'd love to spend the whole day with you, but I've really got some things I've got to do. How about I drop you home?"
I was immediately kind of bummed. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't want to be kicked out right after breakfast.
I tried to keep the dejected look off my face.
"Trust me, I'd rather spend the morning with you. I hate to leave you. But I do have a few things today that I really, really need to do.
"I've got stuff I have to do, too," I said. A total lie.
Jean-Luc took my empty bowl away from me and put it on the bedside table. He crouched over me.
"But we could see each other later if you'd like. I mean, if you'd like I could make you dinner. If you don't want to do dinner, we could hang out afterward?"
I blinked.
He leaned his body even closer over mine and I felt the heat radiating off him. His cheek grazed mine. His voice was raspy. "I could ravish you again. Show you how much better it can get, the second time."
I shivered.
He jumped up off the bed.
"Think about it," he said. "I'm going to take a really quick shower, and then we'll go, okay?"
I nodded.
I took the paper bowls to the kitchen. I expected to be sore, now that I was walking around, but I wasn't. I got dressed, starting by putting my underwear on inside out, so the fresh side was against my skin. By the time I was finished getting dressed, Jean-Luc came out of the shower. He was wearing a white towel wrapped around his hips.
He came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"Hello sweet star. You're looking fairly glowy this morning."
I bit my lip and gave him a playful shrug.
"Can't imagine why," I said.
Jean-Luc got dressed quickly. He chose a light blue dress shirt, khakis, brown shoes. "Come on Lafferty. Time to make the donuts."
What did that mean?
He grabbed his briefcase and we left.
The drive back to my house was nice. Jean-Luc kept one hand on my thigh the whole time. He parked in front of my house and gave me a kiss that flooded my core so fast I'm surprised we couldn't hear a 'whoosh' sound accompanying it.
"Ever made love in a car?" Jean-Luc whispered in my ear.
Tidal wave on top of the flood. I don't know why I bothered to worry about which side to face in on the underwear; I was obviously going to have to change them.
He chuckled. "No? Oh, the things I could teach you if you let me, Lafferty."
Then he kissed me again. The kind of kiss that left no doubt that he'd rather be inside me than anywhere else. I smiled against his lips. He didn't stop kissing me. He fed me with his mouth and I lapped it all up.
I'm really glad my parents weren't back yet.
"So sweet star, do you want to see me tonight, or is it too soon?"
"I want to see you tonight."
"Okay, I'll text you later. Be good."
"I can't, you've corrupted me for life," I said.
"Hah! Just wait."
I gave him a peck on the cheek, hopped out of the car, and shut the door. I waved at him. I waited until he drove away before I did the touchdown boogie boogie dance including a celebratory spiking of the ball.
Yeah. I'm glad my parents weren't home. I don't know what they'd think of me coming home at 9:30 in the morning, making out in a car in front of the house, and then doing the Lameau Leap and the Cruz butt wiggle until I could calm myself down.
Yeah. I know what they'd think.
And tomorrow night they'd be back from vacation.
Damn.
Oh well.
I went in my house and walked around in a circle. I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt like I should feel different. Like the whole world should seem different. I looked around the house; it looked the same. I looked at the mirror in the alcove by the front door. My hair was a mess. Other than that, I looked the same.
No letter A stamped on my breast. No smiley face stamped on my forehead either.
Now what?
Well, first order of business: change my underwear. Definitely.
I mowed the lawn. It wouldn't be good to have it too unruly when my parents got back.
I drew a cold bath, added bubble-gum scented bubbles, and settled in with the new James Patterson book.
I stayed in the bath until my skin started to wrinkle.
I got out, dried myself off, and wrapped myself in a big blue towel, and wrapped my hair in a red towel. I stood in front of my dresser trying to decide what to wear.
I decided on a white tank top and white jean shorts. Yeah, it was probably too much virginal white considering last night, but hey, it's summer. I put a thin red belt through the loops of the shorts to add some color. There.
Now what?
Oh. You know. There was that thing. That word I needed to look up. What was it? I couldn't remember. I tried to think back. Blank.
I sat down at my computer.
What was it?
Jeez, with all the books I've read you would have thought I would have come across whatever that word was. What was it?
I thought back, tried to replay the conversation in my mind. "Having sex doesn't make you an adult. Even having responsibility isn't what makes you an adult."
"What does?"
"All true ism."
That's it. I typed it in to Google, all one word.
Showing results for Altruism.
Okay.
First result.
Altrusism - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
Let's try that.
'Altruism is the principle or practice of concern for the welfare of others.'
Huh?
I continued reading.
'Regards the good of others as the end of moral action; by extension, the disposition to take the good of others as an end in itself.'
I blinked. What did that mean?
It meant the opposite of selfish, didn't it?
I thought about Jean-Luc: "Marcy. I don't want you to be really good at this to please me. I want you to be good at this to please you." And "I want to rush too, baby. But I'm trying to build something precious. Really special."
I thought about Heather: "I love Evan. I don't want to deny him something he likes."
I thought about Evan: "I have to check with my wife first, but I wouldn't have offered if I didn't think it was okay." And "I could stay around, make sure it's okay."
I blinked.
Jean-Luc was putting me first. Heather was putting Evan first. Evan was putting both me and Heather first.
They weren't just teaching me about sex, they were teaching me how to be a good human being. By caring about other people more or at least as much as yourself.
Wow.
I blinked.
But I did that, didn't I?
I thought back to the definition of altruism. 'As an end into itself.' Meaning you're not doing it because it will also turn out good for you.
How often had I really done that?
I didn't even know.
I mean, it was normal right? To be thinking about clothes, and books, and food, and football...
And really, desperately wanting to lose my virginity.
I thought back to Heather saying, "You couldn't ask for nicer guys than Evan and Jean-Luc."
Apparently not.
But could they ask for a nicer Marcy?
On impulse, I picked up my phone and called Jean-Luc.
"Hey shining star," he said when he answered.
I broke into tears.
"Hey baby, what's wrong?"
"I...I...I..."
"Marcy? Are you all right? What happened?"
"Where are you?" I asked. It sounded pitiful.
"I'm at work," he said. "Where are you?"
"I'm at home."
His voice was suddenly very calm. "Tell me what's going on, Marcy. I can't fix it if I don't know what's upsetting you."
I cried harder.
"I'm so..." hiccup. "Crummy."
"Baby," he said.
"I...I..." I started crying so hard I was gulping air.
Jean-Luc's voice was soothing. "Just tell me, baby, whatever it is, is okay."
I tried to say something. But I couldn't get anything out.
"Honey, you're worrying me. We can work it out together, but I'm pretty lousy in the guessing department."
My sobs pretty much drowned him out.
"We're going to breathe together, nice and slow, so then you can talk to me. Okay?"
I got the hiccups.
"I'll...I'll...I'll call you b-back," I said. I hung up.
Oh Marcy, you big dork.
I leaned way over, so that I put my head between my knees. I just stayed like that, concentrating on my breathing, for what seemed like a really long time.
I was a good person. I've always been a good person.
I sat up and wiped my face. I better call Jean-Luc back. He's probably worried about me.
There was a knock on my door. Whoever it was could just forget about it. There's no way I'm answering looking and feeling like this.
"Marcy! Open up!"
Jean-Luc.
I wiped my face again, and went to open the door.
He swept me up into his arms and didn't let go. He closed the door with his foot.
I started to cry again, soft, subtle tears again.
"Oh baby, you're breaking my heart," he said.
Jean-Luc carried me over to the couch and arranged me on his lap. He kissed the tears off my face.
"B-but, y-you were at work," I said.
"Fuck that," he said.
I sniffed and smiled at him.
"Now," he said firmly, "Tell me what's wrong."
"N-nothing," I said.
"Oh, I could tell that from your serene, impassive demeanor."
I sniffled.
"All right Lafferty." He rearranged me a little on his lap, and I rested my head against his shoulder. "Want me to guess?"
I shook my head.
"So tell me."
"It's just you're so nice."
"Hah. I'm a lawyer. Haven't you heard all the lawyer jokes? We're ruthless. We can be mean as snakes."
"Only when you're defending personal friends of yours," I said.
"The crying ones," he said. "Now what's up?"
I shrugged.
He pet my hair.
"You hair's wet."
"I didn't blow it dry; it takes forever to dry on its own."
We were silent for a while.
"Sorry I interrupted your work," I said finally.
"It's Saturday. I put in a few good hours. It's fine."
"Mmn."
"You're more important than work any day, weekend or not."
I started to cry again.
"I'm not usually a crier," I said.
"I hope not, because I got to tell you, this is the pits." He smiled at me. "I don't mind though. I take the whole package. Sex, talking raccoons, crying jags."
"Ice cream?"
"Ice cream," he said. He carefully pushed me off his lap and went to the kitchen. I ogled his butt as he opened the freezer.
"Holy shit!" he said. "You've got like a hundred flavors of ice cream in here," he said.
"Yeah, my parents are out of town, so I've pretty much just been eating ice cream for the past four days, and I wanted some variety."
He turned around and looked at me.
I shrugged. "I don't like to cook. I bring bologna sandwiches to work for lunch."
"So bologna and ice cream, that's really well balanced."
"Well, I had a real meal when you took me out to dinner."
"One real meal," he said.
"Oh, plus popcorn. From the movie. So I'm set. Totally well-rounded diet. But stress calls for chocolate. So what do you think? Chocolate chip cookie dough? Chocolate peanut butter? Triple chocolate? Rocky road? Chocolate butter pecan? Chunky monkey? Mint chocolate chip?"
He looked at me.
"Decisions, decisions," I said.
He shook his head slightly.
"You're right, we should have a little bit of all of them."
"How do you stay so skinny?"
"I'm not skinny," I said.
"Okay, how do you stay so perfectly bodacious?"
I smiled. "Good genes?"
He had closed the freezer in order to give me shit about my awesomely wide deliciousness collection.
I opened the freezer, looked at the choices for a few seconds, and got out the limited edition Haagan Daas Midnight Chocolate Cookies and Cream. I looked over at Jean-Luc. Might as well go for it. I'm sleeping with him, he's not going to judge if I go whole hog.
I opened the refrigerator, got out a container of ricotta cheese, and dumped a huge scoop into the Midnight tub.
"What?" Jean-Luc said.
I got two spoons.
"Don't knock it until you try it," I said.
He took a bite. His eyes rolled back into his head. "Oh my God. This is fantastic."
"How does that song go again?" I asked.
"Which one?"
"You know."
He looked at me.
"Oh."
He put the tip of his finger in the cheese, put it on my bottom lip, and kissed it off. He sang softly.
"Your love, is better than ice cream." His voice was slow, full, deep. "It's better than anything else that I've tried. Your love, is better than chocolate." He pried out a chunk of chocolate cookie with his finger and fed it to me. "Everyone here knows how to cry."
I laughed. I didn't know that was the next lyric.
"I aim to please," he said. "Now tell me what was bothering you."
"You'll think it's silly," I said.
"You're entitled to be silly," he said.
"It's the altruism thing," I said.
"I'm confused."
"Well, I didn't know what altruism meant," I said. I looked at him to see if he thought I was dumb. No. "So I looked it up. It took me a minute to get it. But when I got it, it was so great. You know, you thinking that what made an adult was willingness to give to others."
"Marcy, I don't know why I said that; there are lots of shitty adults who don't give a damn about others."
"Yeah, but that's not what occurred to you."
"Marcy..."
I looked up, trying to think how to put into words what had triggered my outburst. "I, just want to be real. I mean, really real. And nice. As nice as you, and Heather, and Evan. You know, altruistic. Not some sex starved teenager who just wants to get laid all the time."
He smiled at that.
"You know what I mean."
"Stick with me, k**," he said. He said it in a weird voice, like he was quoting a movie line, but I didn't know what movie it was from.
"Listen baby," he said. "You're young. You're allowed to be selfish sometimes. You're figuring it out."
I just stared at him. I didn't want to be selfish. I wanted to be like him.
"You don't have to be Florence Nightingale to be altruistic. You just have to be you and be willing to...see. I think you've got that covered."
I sniffed. Maybe the outburst was worth it to hear him say that. Maybe I didn't do that before, but I sure would now. Enough of this.
"Time to make the donuts?" I asked. I had thought about it. That must be a euphemism for sex, right?
He burst out laughing.
"Yeah baby, if you're up to it. Time to make the donuts."
He put the ice cream and the ricotta cheese back, and put the spoons in the sink.
"Put your arms around my neck, sweet star."
I did.
He picked me up and carried me into the hallway.
"Which one's your bedroom?" he asked. His voice was low, husky.
"First door on the left," I said.
Jean-Luc carried me through and shut the door with his foot.
"You're not sore? We could just fool around."
"I'm not sore."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure. I need to have you inside me again," I said, but then a nervous giggle escaped. "Pretty please, I need the practice."
He laughed.
"Say that again?" he requested. "That's hot."
"Pretty please," I said.
He let out a low growl. "That's not the part I meant."
I laughed.
"I want to have you inside me again," I whispered so softly it was barely audible.
Louder growl from Jean-Luc, totally different this time. "Oh, yeah," he said.
"I guess it's going to be a good afternoon after all," I said.
"It's getting better by the minute."
Jean-Luc was right. Sex was even better the second time.
He was even slower this time, kissing every inch of skin on my shoulders and torso, before bringing the electric heat and sultry rhythms up to the point where he slid into me with no resistance at all.
Yeah. This was the playground.
It was all delicious heat, and ferocious connection. It was a smorgasbord of new sensations, each one better than the next, all tied in succulent candied ribbons of emotion that wound me around Jean-Luc tighter and closer with each stroke.
I never wanted it to end.
It was my first time, and it was perfect.
I wanted to yell, 'don't stop, don't stop,' but I couldn't speak.
He slowed down, sped up, then changed the angle a little bit. He pressed his arms down into the mattress, so he was doing sort of a half push-up on top of me and started rocking into me, different, harder, even better.
"Lick," he said. He had his thumb near my mouth.
I licked it. He reached in between us and found that sweet spot on me and rubbed back and forth.
Sparkling firecrackers danced on the edge of my vision.
He let out a primal shout. I exploded, a thunder and lightning storm of strange bursting white light, and I think he came a millisecond later. He collapsed on top of me, suddenly a hugely heavy dead weight.
"Next time will be better," he panted.
"Not unless you want to cripple me," I said.
"Each time will get better and better," he said, ignoring my comment. "And not just because this was your first time. And not just because I'll learn more about your body, and what you like. It will be better every time because we'll be closer and closer together."
He stroked my cheek.
"Because I'll love you even more next time, although I can hardly picture it."
"Next time," I said with awe.
"Next time," he repeated.
I floated in dreamy post-coital haze, a twilight of satiation between sleeping and waking. I could see before me a whole slew of adventures, each one more wild, and decadent, and naughtily taboo than the next. The summer wasn't even half-way over. Jean-Luc had introduced me to sex, but I had a feeling that he, and the crew from Melody's, wasn't done with me yet.
Yeah, it was a slippery slope. And I wanted to slide. Into more and more deep and untamed hotness. Now that I got a taste, I wanted to slide all the way into my own off-the-charts, righteous experiences. A personal, new, completely uncharted territory. Marcy's playground.
Part 3
I can only blame flying high from my very first sexual experience, and having the hottest man on the planet laying on top me, for the fact that what tripped out of my mouth next was pretty dumb.
"I'm an adult now," I mumbled to myself.
Jean-Luc shook his head. "Having sex doesn't make you an adult."
I stared at him.
"Even having responsibility isn't what makes you an adult."
"What does?" I asked.
"Altruism," he said, and rolled off me.
I didn't know what that word meant. I wanted to ask but I was too embarrassed to admit that I didn't know something. How adult is that?
I should just ask.
But then Jean-Luc went into the bathroom and shut the door and the time I could have asked and not have it be weird passed. I would have to look it up when I got home.
Jean-Luc came out of the bathroom and smiled at me. God he was gorgeous. My handsome, gorgeous, smart, virgin-popping, big-word-using boyfriend.
"I thought I would pamper you with a gourmet breakfast in bed," he said. "And for breakfast you have two choices: cereal or cereal. I think I'm out of milk."
"Oh," I said. "Dry cereal is my favorite."
He went into the kitchen. "We have the very upscale super adult Frosted Flakes, or the more subtly bourgeois but still delectable Coco-puffs."
"Oh, decisions, decisions," I said.
"Oh, wait. I also have some Cheerios," he said.
"I'll have Cheerios," I said.
Jean-Luc came out a second later carrying two paper bowls. Cheerios for me and Coco-puffs for him.
"Normally I would have said, let's just eat out of the box, but this is a special occasion."
He handed me my bowl, and then got in bed next to me.
"You look beautiful in the morning, Lafferty."
Aw.
He took a Cheerio out of my bowl and fed it to me. Then he started eating his own cereal with his fingers.
"What?" I asked. "No spoons?"
"Hey. It's a special occasion, but it's not that much of a special occasion."
I gave him a playful elbow in the ribs.
I tried to look at him at out the corner of my vision without really staring at him. I wasn't too successful. I concentrated on my cereal.
It was kind of nice eating breakfast with him. I didn't know how he felt, but the new intimacy of it felt, ah... smiley to me.
"Hey baby, I'd love to spend the whole day with you, but I've really got some things I've got to do. How about I drop you home?"
I was immediately kind of bummed. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't want to be kicked out right after breakfast.
I tried to keep the dejected look off my face.
"Trust me, I'd rather spend the morning with you. I hate to leave you. But I do have a few things today that I really, really need to do.
"I've got stuff I have to do, too," I said. A total lie.
Jean-Luc took my empty bowl away from me and put it on the bedside table. He crouched over me.
"But we could see each other later if you'd like. I mean, if you'd like I could make you dinner. If you don't want to do dinner, we could hang out afterward?"
I blinked.
He leaned his body even closer over mine and I felt the heat radiating off him. His cheek grazed mine. His voice was raspy. "I could ravish you again. Show you how much better it can get, the second time."
I shivered.
He jumped up off the bed.
"Think about it," he said. "I'm going to take a really quick shower, and then we'll go, okay?"
I nodded.
I took the paper bowls to the kitchen. I expected to be sore, now that I was walking around, but I wasn't. I got dressed, starting by putting my underwear on inside out, so the fresh side was against my skin. By the time I was finished getting dressed, Jean-Luc came out of the shower. He was wearing a white towel wrapped around his hips.
He came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"Hello sweet star. You're looking fairly glowy this morning."
I bit my lip and gave him a playful shrug.
"Can't imagine why," I said.
Jean-Luc got dressed quickly. He chose a light blue dress shirt, khakis, brown shoes. "Come on Lafferty. Time to make the donuts."
What did that mean?
He grabbed his briefcase and we left.
The drive back to my house was nice. Jean-Luc kept one hand on my thigh the whole time. He parked in front of my house and gave me a kiss that flooded my core so fast I'm surprised we couldn't hear a 'whoosh' sound accompanying it.
"Ever made love in a car?" Jean-Luc whispered in my ear.
Tidal wave on top of the flood. I don't know why I bothered to worry about which side to face in on the underwear; I was obviously going to have to change them.
He chuckled. "No? Oh, the things I could teach you if you let me, Lafferty."
Then he kissed me again. The kind of kiss that left no doubt that he'd rather be inside me than anywhere else. I smiled against his lips. He didn't stop kissing me. He fed me with his mouth and I lapped it all up.
I'm really glad my parents weren't back yet.
"So sweet star, do you want to see me tonight, or is it too soon?"
"I want to see you tonight."
"Okay, I'll text you later. Be good."
"I can't, you've corrupted me for life," I said.
"Hah! Just wait."
I gave him a peck on the cheek, hopped out of the car, and shut the door. I waved at him. I waited until he drove away before I did the touchdown boogie boogie dance including a celebratory spiking of the ball.
Yeah. I'm glad my parents weren't home. I don't know what they'd think of me coming home at 9:30 in the morning, making out in a car in front of the house, and then doing the Lameau Leap and the Cruz butt wiggle until I could calm myself down.
Yeah. I know what they'd think.
And tomorrow night they'd be back from vacation.
Damn.
Oh well.
I went in my house and walked around in a circle. I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt like I should feel different. Like the whole world should seem different. I looked around the house; it looked the same. I looked at the mirror in the alcove by the front door. My hair was a mess. Other than that, I looked the same.
No letter A stamped on my breast. No smiley face stamped on my forehead either.
Now what?
Well, first order of business: change my underwear. Definitely.
I mowed the lawn. It wouldn't be good to have it too unruly when my parents got back.
I drew a cold bath, added bubble-gum scented bubbles, and settled in with the new James Patterson book.
I stayed in the bath until my skin started to wrinkle.
I got out, dried myself off, and wrapped myself in a big blue towel, and wrapped my hair in a red towel. I stood in front of my dresser trying to decide what to wear.
I decided on a white tank top and white jean shorts. Yeah, it was probably too much virginal white considering last night, but hey, it's summer. I put a thin red belt through the loops of the shorts to add some color. There.
Now what?
Oh. You know. There was that thing. That word I needed to look up. What was it? I couldn't remember. I tried to think back. Blank.
I sat down at my computer.
What was it?
Jeez, with all the books I've read you would have thought I would have come across whatever that word was. What was it?
I thought back, tried to replay the conversation in my mind. "Having sex doesn't make you an adult. Even having responsibility isn't what makes you an adult."
"What does?"
"All true ism."
That's it. I typed it in to Google, all one word.
Showing results for Altruism.
Okay.
First result.
Altrusism - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
Let's try that.
'Altruism is the principle or practice of concern for the welfare of others.'
Huh?
I continued reading.
'Regards the good of others as the end of moral action; by extension, the disposition to take the good of others as an end in itself.'
I blinked. What did that mean?
It meant the opposite of selfish, didn't it?
I thought about Jean-Luc: "Marcy. I don't want you to be really good at this to please me. I want you to be good at this to please you." And "I want to rush too, baby. But I'm trying to build something precious. Really special."
I thought about Heather: "I love Evan. I don't want to deny him something he likes."
I thought about Evan: "I have to check with my wife first, but I wouldn't have offered if I didn't think it was okay." And "I could stay around, make sure it's okay."
I blinked.
Jean-Luc was putting me first. Heather was putting Evan first. Evan was putting both me and Heather first.
They weren't just teaching me about sex, they were teaching me how to be a good human being. By caring about other people more or at least as much as yourself.
Wow.
I blinked.
But I did that, didn't I?
I thought back to the definition of altruism. 'As an end into itself.' Meaning you're not doing it because it will also turn out good for you.
How often had I really done that?
I didn't even know.
I mean, it was normal right? To be thinking about clothes, and books, and food, and football...
And really, desperately wanting to lose my virginity.
I thought back to Heather saying, "You couldn't ask for nicer guys than Evan and Jean-Luc."
Apparently not.
But could they ask for a nicer Marcy?
On impulse, I picked up my phone and called Jean-Luc.
"Hey shining star," he said when he answered.
I broke into tears.
"Hey baby, what's wrong?"
"I...I...I..."
"Marcy? Are you all right? What happened?"
"Where are you?" I asked. It sounded pitiful.
"I'm at work," he said. "Where are you?"
"I'm at home."
His voice was suddenly very calm. "Tell me what's going on, Marcy. I can't fix it if I don't know what's upsetting you."
I cried harder.
"I'm so..." hiccup. "Crummy."
"Baby," he said.
"I...I..." I started crying so hard I was gulping air.
Jean-Luc's voice was soothing. "Just tell me, baby, whatever it is, is okay."
I tried to say something. But I couldn't get anything out.
"Honey, you're worrying me. We can work it out together, but I'm pretty lousy in the guessing department."
My sobs pretty much drowned him out.
"We're going to breathe together, nice and slow, so then you can talk to me. Okay?"
I got the hiccups.
"I'll...I'll...I'll call you b-back," I said. I hung up.
Oh Marcy, you big dork.
I leaned way over, so that I put my head between my knees. I just stayed like that, concentrating on my breathing, for what seemed like a really long time.
I was a good person. I've always been a good person.
I sat up and wiped my face. I better call Jean-Luc back. He's probably worried about me.
There was a knock on my door. Whoever it was could just forget about it. There's no way I'm answering looking and feeling like this.
"Marcy! Open up!"
Jean-Luc.
I wiped my face again, and went to open the door.
He swept me up into his arms and didn't let go. He closed the door with his foot.
I started to cry again, soft, subtle tears again.
"Oh baby, you're breaking my heart," he said.
Jean-Luc carried me over to the couch and arranged me on his lap. He kissed the tears off my face.
"B-but, y-you were at work," I said.
"Fuck that," he said.
I sniffed and smiled at him.
"Now," he said firmly, "Tell me what's wrong."
"N-nothing," I said.
"Oh, I could tell that from your serene, impassive demeanor."
I sniffled.
"All right Lafferty." He rearranged me a little on his lap, and I rested my head against his shoulder. "Want me to guess?"
I shook my head.
"So tell me."
"It's just you're so nice."
"Hah. I'm a lawyer. Haven't you heard all the lawyer jokes? We're ruthless. We can be mean as snakes."
"Only when you're defending personal friends of yours," I said.
"The crying ones," he said. "Now what's up?"
I shrugged.
He pet my hair.
"You hair's wet."
"I didn't blow it dry; it takes forever to dry on its own."
We were silent for a while.
"Sorry I interrupted your work," I said finally.
"It's Saturday. I put in a few good hours. It's fine."
"Mmn."
"You're more important than work any day, weekend or not."
I started to cry again.
"I'm not usually a crier," I said.
"I hope not, because I got to tell you, this is the pits." He smiled at me. "I don't mind though. I take the whole package. Sex, talking raccoons, crying jags."
"Ice cream?"
"Ice cream," he said. He carefully pushed me off his lap and went to the kitchen. I ogled his butt as he opened the freezer.
"Holy shit!" he said. "You've got like a hundred flavors of ice cream in here," he said.
"Yeah, my parents are out of town, so I've pretty much just been eating ice cream for the past four days, and I wanted some variety."
He turned around and looked at me.
I shrugged. "I don't like to cook. I bring bologna sandwiches to work for lunch."
"So bologna and ice cream, that's really well balanced."
"Well, I had a real meal when you took me out to dinner."
"One real meal," he said.
"Oh, plus popcorn. From the movie. So I'm set. Totally well-rounded diet. But stress calls for chocolate. So what do you think? Chocolate chip cookie dough? Chocolate peanut butter? Triple chocolate? Rocky road? Chocolate butter pecan? Chunky monkey? Mint chocolate chip?"
He looked at me.
"Decisions, decisions," I said.
He shook his head slightly.
"You're right, we should have a little bit of all of them."
"How do you stay so skinny?"
"I'm not skinny," I said.
"Okay, how do you stay so perfectly bodacious?"
I smiled. "Good genes?"
He had closed the freezer in order to give me shit about my awesomely wide deliciousness collection.
I opened the freezer, looked at the choices for a few seconds, and got out the limited edition Haagan Daas Midnight Chocolate Cookies and Cream. I looked over at Jean-Luc. Might as well go for it. I'm sleeping with him, he's not going to judge if I go whole hog.
I opened the refrigerator, got out a container of ricotta cheese, and dumped a huge scoop into the Midnight tub.
"What?" Jean-Luc said.
I got two spoons.
"Don't knock it until you try it," I said.
He took a bite. His eyes rolled back into his head. "Oh my God. This is fantastic."
"How does that song go again?" I asked.
"Which one?"
"You know."
He looked at me.
"Oh."
He put the tip of his finger in the cheese, put it on my bottom lip, and kissed it off. He sang softly.
"Your love, is better than ice cream." His voice was slow, full, deep. "It's better than anything else that I've tried. Your love, is better than chocolate." He pried out a chunk of chocolate cookie with his finger and fed it to me. "Everyone here knows how to cry."
I laughed. I didn't know that was the next lyric.
"I aim to please," he said. "Now tell me what was bothering you."
"You'll think it's silly," I said.
"You're entitled to be silly," he said.
"It's the altruism thing," I said.
"I'm confused."
"Well, I didn't know what altruism meant," I said. I looked at him to see if he thought I was dumb. No. "So I looked it up. It took me a minute to get it. But when I got it, it was so great. You know, you thinking that what made an adult was willingness to give to others."
"Marcy, I don't know why I said that; there are lots of shitty adults who don't give a damn about others."
"Yeah, but that's not what occurred to you."
"Marcy..."
I looked up, trying to think how to put into words what had triggered my outburst. "I, just want to be real. I mean, really real. And nice. As nice as you, and Heather, and Evan. You know, altruistic. Not some sex starved teenager who just wants to get laid all the time."
He smiled at that.
"You know what I mean."
"Stick with me, k**," he said. He said it in a weird voice, like he was quoting a movie line, but I didn't know what movie it was from.
"Listen baby," he said. "You're young. You're allowed to be selfish sometimes. You're figuring it out."
I just stared at him. I didn't want to be selfish. I wanted to be like him.
"You don't have to be Florence Nightingale to be altruistic. You just have to be you and be willing to...see. I think you've got that covered."
I sniffed. Maybe the outburst was worth it to hear him say that. Maybe I didn't do that before, but I sure would now. Enough of this.
"Time to make the donuts?" I asked. I had thought about it. That must be a euphemism for sex, right?
He burst out laughing.
"Yeah baby, if you're up to it. Time to make the donuts."
He put the ice cream and the ricotta cheese back, and put the spoons in the sink.
"Put your arms around my neck, sweet star."
I did.
He picked me up and carried me into the hallway.
"Which one's your bedroom?" he asked. His voice was low, husky.
"First door on the left," I said.
Jean-Luc carried me through and shut the door with his foot.
"You're not sore? We could just fool around."
"I'm not sore."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure. I need to have you inside me again," I said, but then a nervous giggle escaped. "Pretty please, I need the practice."
He laughed.
"Say that again?" he requested. "That's hot."
"Pretty please," I said.
He let out a low growl. "That's not the part I meant."
I laughed.
"I want to have you inside me again," I whispered so softly it was barely audible.
Louder growl from Jean-Luc, totally different this time. "Oh, yeah," he said.
"I guess it's going to be a good afternoon after all," I said.
"It's getting better by the minute."
Jean-Luc was right. Sex was even better the second time.
He was even slower this time, kissing every inch of skin on my shoulders and torso, before bringing the electric heat and sultry rhythms up to the point where he slid into me with no resistance at all.
Yeah. This was the playground.
It was all delicious heat, and ferocious connection. It was a smorgasbord of new sensations, each one better than the next, all tied in succulent candied ribbons of emotion that wound me around Jean-Luc tighter and closer with each stroke.
Brandy
- 28.08.2020
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Marcy s Playground 13 by loyalsock
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Marcy s Playground 12 by loyalsock
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