I Slept With The Boy Next DoorMy younger brother's childhood friend was always a little annoying to me the way all younger kids are. He was always a shy, somewhat competitive presence in the neighborhood. My brother and Roger spent most of their weekends playing video games and watching anime. They grew apart once Roger's parents sent him to private school and my brother went on to public school. I never thought much about him other than I loved his complexion and hoped he wouldn't grow up too screwed up from spending so much time in front of the TV. When I moved back home nearly three summers ago I discovered that while Roger and my brother had grown apart, he and my mother had become close friends. He was starting to date girls and went to my mother for advice. I would often come home to find them sitting on the porch talking about how he needed to relax, get a grip and not worry about being in a relationship so much as he needed to have fun and be comfortable with himself. I never paid it much attention but I did notice the way his arms were developing, the way his jaw set a little more confidently.
Roger is nearly ten years younger than me and I never thought of him as more than my brother's friend. Still, I couldn't help but notice his tall, lanky legs, his a deep voice, his thick, dark lips. My father was a runner and I've always had a thing for legs. I couldn't help but linger on the weekends I found him on the porch out front, talking earnestly about his girlfriend or fuming about his father's silence. He seemed deeply troubled about every problem in his life and equally exuberant about every fortune.
Often my mother would get tired of the mosquitoes and retreat into the house. I told myself it was only polite that I keep him company as long as he was here. our conversations invariably turned to firsts. He was deliciously proud to tell me about his first drink, his first time, his first smoke. I listened with a slight smile on my face, feeling old and maternal. We avoided talking about my brother because everyone wanted to pretend not to know they hated each other. We talked about his girlfriends and school instead. We talked about music or traveling across country. We generally tried to avoid the real world and tried to pretend we didn't like each other.
One night, my sister had a nervous breakdown. My parents stayed at the hospital with her overnight and I called Roger over. I didn't want to be alone. We watched movie after movie until I finally kissed him. It was absolutely dark, I didn't say a word and when I realized my brother was home I told him that it was probably a good idea if he left. He was completely confused but he agreed and we started dating on and off for the next six months. Towards the end of the summer, I blew up at him about something and told him I couldn't handle it anymore.
Two weeks ago, he called me and asked me if I wanted to go out for sushi. I was completely shocked but happy to hear from him. In all the time we spent together we still hadn't slept together and I was hoping to have another chance. I was also hoping we could finally talked about everything that happened between us. It started off well enough, but about half way through dinner I wasn't drunk enough to talk about what happened and I didn't want to be drunk enough. I don't drink much and it doesn't sit well with me. We danced around each other the same way we had three years ago, parking his car somewhere and drinking Four Loko out of a can, talking absolute nonsense.
His voice was droning on and on when I finally sat up, climbed into his lap and kissed him. I was horny and started grinding my ***** against his belly. He grabbed my *** and slipped one hand under my dress, making his way to my panties and unhooking my bra with the other. We fumbled around some more. I'm pretty sure someone got a flash of him sucking my ******* on the driver side before I went back to my seat and he climbed on top of me. I remember he stroked my side and found his way into me. He was huge and I hadn't had sex in a long time, so I thought I was going to die but it was over in all of five minutes. We came together, too drunk and worked up to last much longer.
We haven't talked since and I've given up on trying to figure out why. It's just one of those things.
deleted 26-30 10 Responses 12 Sep 19, 2011