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hs37150.jpgbuy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request) day 37

Rebecca didn’t wear a stringy thong like the ones he’d seen in porn and had noticed peeking out from the tiny tight jeans girls like Raylene Florio wore. A panel of black underwear covered Rebecca’s abdomen.

Dave’s hand skimmed over her panties. A few springy hairs curled around the elasticized sides. His fingers crept under and inside. The hair was damp and she was slippery between her legs. She pushed her hips up as he touched her. He rubbed her rhythmically, back and forth, up and down. He swirled circles around one way and back again. When Rebecca would moan he’d try to memorize the spot he’d touched.

Abruptly, Rebecca batted his hand away. Dave flinched and began to apologize. Rebecca silenced him by pulling off her underwear and pushing him down on the bed. His clothes came off. Rebecca reached for his cock, but he squirmed away, scared that her touch – any touch – would make him come. He bounced up off the bed and scrambled to his desk to find a condom. This part he’d practiced countless times.

Dave worked himself between her legs and pushed. Rebecca shuddered, her body seized. Dave stopped. Everyone knew it hurt for girls the first time. She squeezed her hands hard into his back. “It’s okay,” she said.

She didn’t pretend to come. They lay on the bed, their skin moist with sweat. Dave ran his hand down Rebecca’s body and let it rest between her legs. He began to stroke her, but she rolled away from him and onto her side. Dave curved his arm around her waist. His eyelashes tickled her back.

“You alright?” he asked.

Rebecca’s stomach groaned. “I’m just a little dizzy.” Dave massaged her shoulder and kissed her neck. “Don’t,” she said and sat up. She leaned over the side of the bed and began unfolding her clothes. Dave wrapped himself in the goose down comforter that covered his bed.

Dressed but still drunk, Rebecca tripped towards Dave’s desk. “I have to check my e-mail,” she said. She sat in the swiveling chair and tapped the keyboard until the dozing machine came to. Dave’s eyes were closed and his head spun. He wished she’d come back and coil herself around him.

It took a moment for Dave to realize that she was crying again. Shit. He’d have to say something.

“Rebecca,” he started as he yanked his boxer shorts on. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Dave patted her back. He was unsure of exactly how – or if — he was supposed to touch her. Rebecca sat still and silent. Her tears stopped and a low growl came up and out. She kicked her legs around and struck him between his legs with her heels. The swivel chair toppled over. Dave screamed and doubled up. Rebecca went at him, kicking and clawing, pulling his hair, biting. Dave screamed again. He tried to push her away, but she was stronger. He cowered and cried and begged her to stop.
     

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                                                                                                                                                          ©2008 pamela klaffke