There’s a Girl Down There

I exited the roundabout behind a blue city bus then felt my heart race as I saw her standing on the sidewalk. She was wearing that red dress with the white flowers. Her face lit up when she saw me approach. I swung the car to the curb and she reached for the door.

“Hi,” she said through a forced smile.

“”Hi,” I returned, trying not to sound nervous.

She pulled the fabric of her dress close to her bent leg, then turned and lowered herself into the seat. When she closed the door and buckled in, I hit the turn signal, looked into the mirror, then pulled out.

I felt like saying, “So, are you ready for this?” but it didn’t seem right. It could be that what we had previously agreed to was all a misunderstanding, a momentary lapse of judgement. The whole idea preposterous to begin with. Now that she had time to think it over, was she going to pretend that we had never even talked about it? And if I was to bring it up, it would be me who was the disgusting asshole.

So instead, an excruciating silence.

I glanced over and shot her a smile.

“So, how are you?” she asked, meeting my eyes. Her cheeks puffed as she smiled exposing a line of perfect white teeth.

“I’m good,” I returned, hoping to sound nonchalant. “And you?”

“Just great.” She reached over and took my hand. A good sign. This was going to be okay. My breathing returned to normal, my heart settled down. I detected the faint flowery smell of shampoo rolling off her ash blonde hair reflecting a pale yellow light from the afternoon sun. The look in her misty blue eyes told me that we were on.

“Does your sister know we’re coming?” I asked.

“Yup. I told her we’d arrive about six O’ clock.”

“Okay, cool.” We drove on in silence and I thought about what to say next. “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

“Not sure. I think she was going to cook for us.”

“That sounds good,” I replied. “Hey, should we put her address into the navigation app or do you know how to get there?”

“I can get us there.”

“Great. Then you’ll be the navigator.”

“I won’t get us lost.

“You sound confident.”

“I am.”

Her tone was faked.

We snaked our way through town, then pulled onto the motorway. She reached for my phone, then asked, “Can I also be the DJ?”

“Sure.”

She put on a playlist of modern pop music that I normally wouldn’t have liked, but under the present circumstances, I didn’t mind. A small sacrifice to make considering what lay ahead.

We drove on making occasional small talk interrupted by her singing along to the music. We would start with a half-way interesting conversation about what it takes to be a good painter, writer, or other creative, then she would suddenly bust out with, “I’m Mister Loverman…and I miss my lover, man,” as she sang along with the bouncing chorus coming from the speakers. Like she had been indifferent to our conversation the entire time. One of the most annoying things about our age difference. She was nineteen and I was thirty, not a huge gap, but wide enough to make some of the shit she did hugely annoying.

Nevertheless, I took in the curvey slope of her body underneath the thin red ress starting from the bumps of her breasts transitioning down to the gentle swell of her belly then on to the triangle of loose fabric formed by the valley of her crotch. She wasn’t the type who worked out, but she was nineteen, and her body was still young and nubile. I noticed how her voice slipped into the precocious tone of an ambitious youth always trying to win the adulation of grown ups. But my intuition detected the paradoxical pretense of a naughty girl who played her honor-student facade well.

So, how did we get to this point? Let’s see. After a few weeks of innocent flirting when she was a student of mine at the plein air painting class I taught at the summer atelier in Gothenburg, the critical moment came during the chat we had at the class barbecue we held after the final session. This was my second summer teaching at the atelier, and the students ranged from newly retired corporate types trying to find their creative voice, to annoying forty-something women with no talent. Mixed in between were some younger students on summer break who were really into art. Nelly was one of the younger ones who was really into art. The stuff she did was pretty decent and showed a lot of promise. She had a way of injecting a particular mood into her paintings that spoke of an emotional intelligence that was beyond her years. I was drawn to her right away–the bubbly demeanor, the bright cheery smile that lit up her entire face, her insanely beautiful blue eyes that radiated intelligence and affection.

I would try not to stop by Nelly’s easel any more than I did the other students so as not to make my attraction seem obvious. But it was hard to resist. She would stop what she was doing, step back from the canvas and open up a big smile. I would then look at her work in progress and comment about how the spots where the purplish-blue wash she laid down as an underpainting served to çukurambar escort harmonize the hierarchy of darks and give a coolness to the shadows that balanced the warmth of the lighter areas. Her eyes would sparkle and then she would cower in embarrassment as if she was undeserving of the compliment.

When we talked at the party, I noticed how she slipped down in her chair and leaned in closer to me as the conversation crept deeper into her personal life. We started out innocent enough, I commented about the beer she was drinking. She said it was O-k-a-a-a-a-a-y…, but called it an “Old man’s beer.” Then we talked about her first year at college and what her future plans were. Are you going to go for a masters? I don’t know, not sure what I want to go into. What have you thought about? I don’t know, European history, philosophy, art, psychology, German maybe? I don’t know! I can’t make up my mind!

She wiggled around in her chair. Her eyes narrowing from the buzz of beer.

“So, from what side of the family did you get those beautiful blue eyes?” I asked.

Her head dropped for a moment then she shot me a surprised look.

“Well, I don’t know.” She swiped a lock of blonde hair from one side of her forehead to the other. “But thank you…both sides, I guess. Both my mom and dad have blue eyes.”

“No, I mean it. They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she said again, looking down and playing with her hair.

“So, do you have any brothers and sisters?”

“One younger brother, four years younger than me, and an older sister.”

“How old is your sister?”

“Twenty-one.”

“And you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Does your sister also have such pretty eyes?”

“They’re blue, but she’s a bit darker than me. Her hair is more honey-blonde and her eyes a deeper blue.”

I smiled.

“So, how’s your love life? Any boyfriends?”

“Nope, not right now. When I was in Budapest, I was seeing a Spanish guy, but when school was out, we broke up.”

“Ah-haa. The old ‘do-we-continue-with-the- long-distance- relationship-thing-or-do-we-end-it now?’ thing.”

“Exactly,” she said through a laugh. Her eyes opened slightly. She was really slouched down in her chair.

“So, how’s your sex life?”

“What? I don’t know. What type of question is that?”

“I don’t know, you’re the kind of girl I feel I can talk to despite our age differences. I feel like I have known you a long time.”

“Me too, really….” her face lit up. “Well, I think you’re really cool. When I talk to you, I mean, I don’t feel like I am talking to someone much older than me. I feel so relaxed and at ease around you.”

“Yeah, me too. So, what about your sex life?”

“I don’t know, the usual stuff. Not getting anything right now since I moved back, though.”

I nodded my head. “So, did you ever do a threesome?”

“What!”

“Yeah, a threesome. Have you ever tried one?”

“No!”

“Not even curious?”

“Never thought about it, really.”

“Ever been with another girl?”

“No!…I mean, kind of.”

“What do you mean, ‘kind of?’

“One night after the bar in Budapest, me and one of my girl friends made out for a little bit in my apartment”

“And did you like it?”

“It felt nice. But not something I’m dying to do again. I mean, I’m not a lesbian.”

I looked over at a table full of the annoying 40-something women totally absorbed in the rant of one of their brethren. A group of little kids from the youth classes chased each other across the garden.

“So, what about you?” she asked after a long pause.

“Never. Never did one. They weren’t in fashion when I was your age. Things were a bit more conservative back then.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Definitely.”

“I’ll bet you had your fun, though.”

“You can say that.”

“Stuff you wouldn’t tell Claudia, I suppose.”

“Nope,” I said with a smile.

“Tell me!”

“Never.”

“I promise I’ll never tell Claudia. I mean, I don’t even know her so there’s little chance of that.”

I had told Nelly about Claudia, but she had no idea what was going on between us. As far as she knew, we were still together.

“Can I trust you?” I asked.

“Absolutely.”

“So what about your sister. Are you two close?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Well, are you?”

“We are.” A long pause, a sip of beer. “But it’s complicated.” She ran her hand through a shock of blonde hair then pushed it behind her ear. The question seemed not to be easy for her to answer. She continued, “She’s studying in Lund right now, so I don’t see her much.”

“So what’s she in to?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s she studying? I mean, is she into drawing and painting like you? Does she have a creative side?

“She’s studying communications…and is she creative? I guess you could say that. She plays in a girl band.

“Oh yeah? What does she play?”

“She’s the lead singer, she plays a little keyboard, but mostly demetevler escort she just sings.”

“Have you ever seen her perform?”

“A few times. She mostly plays in clubs around Lund, so I haven’t seen her play that much.

“So has she ever done one?”

“Has she ever done what?”

“A Threesome. Is she into threesomes?”

“Oh my God, the kind of questions you ask.”

Another sip of beer. The swipe of hair behind the ear.

“Think she’d be up for a threesome with you and me?”

“Are you kidding?”

“I’m serious.”

“You have a girlfriend, or are engaged or something?”

“You’re smiling, I think you’re considering it.”

“But you’ve never met my sister before.”

“See what I mean?”

“Okay, you win….”

After about an hour, the pine-covered hills gave way to flat expanses of farmland bathed in a warm amber light from the setting sun. Neither one of us mentioned her sister. Traffic thinned out and our conversation tapered off. So did her singing. We drove in silence for a while, hypnotized by the red tail lights from cars in front of us floating in the falling darkness.

She slid her hand over my crotch, then leaned over and started to nibble at my ear. Her warm breath triggered the flow of blood to my loins. The ends of her hair tickled my cheeks. Slowly she worked down my neck then dropped her head into my crotch. It was all I could do to keep the car between the lines. After struggling with my belt, she undid my jeans and took out my cock. She looked up at me with a devious smile then sunk it into her mouth.

For a nineteen year old, she had incredible technique. She started out with long deep pulls of her tight lips alternated with a soft fluttering of her tongue up and down my shaft, then finishing with slow circular licks around the tip. It didn’t take long until I came violently in her mouth.

When I spilled the last of my seed down her throat, she sat up suddenly and tossed back the mass of blonde hair that had fallen forward over her face. “So…how’d you like that?” she asked.

“My God, where did you learn how to do that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I have a natural talent for it.”

“I suppose so. And your sister? Does it run in the family?

” I don’t know, she never gave me a blowjob.”

“You’re hilarious,”

“I like how you appreciate my twisted sense of humor.”

“I guess guys your age don’t know how to handle you?”

“Not really. I’m a bit too weird for them.”

“Lucky for me, then.”

“Yessss,” she replied while nibbling on my ear.

After twenty minutes we entered the city of Lund. A few turns here and there down the narrow streets, we arrived in her sister’s neighborhood.

“There’s something I must tell you about my sister,” Nelly said as I I backed the car into a spot on the street between a red Peugeot and black Audi.

“Yes, what is it?”

“She’s a lesbian.”

“What? And you’re just telling me this now after driving all this way?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out.”

“Is she still up for this?”

“Yes. She’s curious.”

“Curious? This is getting weird.”

“Not as weird as you suggesting it in the first place.”

“I suppose.”

“I warned you that you didn’t even know her.”

“True.”

“You’re not going to back out now, are you?”

All of a sudden I was overcome with the apprehension one feels after agreeing to partake in some bizarre ritual. I focused for a second on the grumbling of the traffic on the streets. A bus accelerated, the whoosh of cars.

“No, let’s go.”

I wasn’t sure if I was more excited about this new revelation or confused.

Claudia. I never saw the signs. The new haircut, bangs in the front. Red-orange tint. She starts to wear short skirts with high leather boots. Then the wallet chains. At first I think the whole new gig is sexy, bad-ass, but there was something unsettling about it. LIke she was pulling away. She loses interest in sex. Starts hanging out with musicians, mostly girls. I had my suspicions. Then one night, she doesn’t come home. When she walks through the door in the morning, she smells like cunt. I tell her we needed to talk. She confesses. Her name is Lotta, they are in love. The next day, she moves out.

Unless you have gone through the experience of it, one can never understand the humiliation you suffer when your girlfriend leaves you for another girl. I was sick for weeks. Lost a ton of weight. Took time off work. Had a hard time facing my friends.

Nelly punches in the code on the electronic keypad. The door buzzes, she pushes it open. Up two flights of stairs, a turn to the left then a knock at her door. Typical apartment for a single student. Small, modern, second-hand furniture, Ikea lamps and tables. Zebra-striped blanket draped over the back of a well-worn couch. A pride flag hanging above it.

“Hi, I’m Ulirika,” she extends her hand. “But please call me UIi.” Blonde, light complexioned just like Nelly. Similar features but a dikimevi escort more mature look as opposed to Nelly’s baby face. I meet her blue eyes.

“Hi, Jonas,” I returned, as if walking into a job interview.

“Nice to meet you, ” she smiles back.

“Same here.”

“Can I use your bathroom?” Nelly asks.

“Sure.”

“Have a seat,” Uli motions to the couch. I sit down. Nelly disappears into the bathroom clutching her overnight bag.

“Care for a drink?”

“Sure, what are you offering?”

“Beer?”

“Sounds great.”

She walks into the small kitchen and opens the fridge. Same body language as Nelly, similar walk. The way she turns her head. A warm flush in my loins. Water runs from the spigot in the bathroom, then the sound of Nelly brushing her teeth. I replay the scene of me coming in her mouth.

“Here you go.” I take the cold bottle from her. She offers no glass. Still young. A glass a formality. She sits on a bar stool in front of a breakfast nook then raises her bottle. “Skål!”

“Skal!.”

I raise my bottle and meet her eyes. Piercing blue. Something defiant about them. She smiles. I smile back. She put the bottle to her lips and took a pull. Something about a girl drinking from a bottle–the lips contort into a strange shape, the mouth opens, liquid pours into the dark opening.

I take a drink. The beer is cold and sweet.

“Okay, so Nelly says she really enjoys your art class. Says you’re quite a good teacher.”

“Well, thank you. She’s a good student, does some really nice work.”

Uli’s face sours. She takes a sip of her beer. “Well, yeah, she was always the ‘talented one’ in the family.”

I remain silent. Better to stay out of family affairs.

“So…” Uli continues. “We’re going to do a little menage, is that right?” My eyes widen at her directness. But yet something cool and matter-of-fact in her delivery. Like a femme fatale in an old black and white movie.

“If you’re up for it?” I return. Not sure if I was being led into a trap, as if this whole thing was a setup.

“But the question is, are you?” she asks, moving closer.

The sound of the toilet flushing. The rush of water. Nelly washing her hands.

“I’m ready,” I reply.

“Really. Two girls much younger than you, and you’re ready?”

A click, then the bathroom door opens. Nelly is in the room.

“Try me.”

Ulrika slips down off the bar stool and comes towards me. Blue eyes blazing. So much of Nelly in her. The head tilting slightly upwards, the way she pushes strands of loose hair behind her ear. The round cheeks, the bubbly smile. Same faint pockmarks from faded acne. I look for signs to indicate what Nelly had told me about her. I find nothing.

Puffy lips that had been dry and slightly cracked a few minutes ago, are now moist and lush. Her breath is slightly sour, but surprisingly pleasant. My mouth meets hers. We find each other’s tongues.

She sinks to her knees. Hesitation. Nelly watches in silence. I take out my cock.

Her first few sucks are soft and tentative. She pulls back.

“I can taste my sister’s spit on your dick!” She looks over at Nelly and continues,”You sucked him off in the car, didn’t you?”

Nelly shrugs.

“You’re such a dirty little slut,” she says through a laugh then puts my dick back into her mouth.

She takes a few more sucks, then looks over at Nelly. “So, how am I doing miss blowjob, queen?”

“Just fine,” Nelly returns. She comes over and starts to play with Ulrika’s hair.

Ulrika’s technique feels unpracticed and awkward. Perhaps she really is a lesbian. My pants and underwear are gathered down around my ankles. Laughter erupts outside and passes below the darkening window. Students on their way to a pub.

“So…it’s been a long time since I did this. Not too bad actually,” she comments matter-of-factly, as if talking only to herself.

She pauses for a moment, clasps her hands behind her back, then sits back on bent knees. Her mouth searches for my dripping cock then closes around it. Wide eyes, like two big blue disks stare at me. A short pause, then she starts to suck violently, like a piston. Her body hinging at the waist. Her fair complexion is now a beet red. She needs to breathe. Her eyes bulge.

I feel the obligation to come. But since Nelly already blew me in the car, the edge had been taken off. Nelly pulls the red dress over her head. There is no bra, no panties. Her skin is milky white.

Nelly moves behind me and fondles my ass. Ulrika pulls back and gasps for air.

“Fuck my face,” she barks out after cacthing her breath through swollen lips.

I insert my dick back into her mouth and pump my hips. Hands clasp again behind her back. Big wide eyes. My balls bounce. Nelly inserts a finger in my ass. I wince, but focus on fucking Ulrika’s face. Lesbian or not, she is one kinky chick.

I feel Nelly’s tongue in my ass. Jolts of electricity radiate up from my rectum then finish near my belly button. Nelly and Ulrika switch positions. Nelly closes her mouth around my cock and Ulrika eats my ass. The beginnings of an orgasm well up inside me. Should I come with Nelly or Uli? The question amuses me.

“What are you laughing at?” Nelly asks after pulling back from my cock.

“Nothing…I’m going to come,” I reply.

“Come on my face,” She answers back.