I was dead. Yet, with a look from her, I was reborn.

Lucinda.

There was a name that had near mystical properties for my ears; a word that could electrify every fibre of my being, or leave me a crumpled, sobbing mess.

Never had a thing or person in my years managed to elicit such a visceral, even animalistic reaction from me and if I were to be frank, I was more than a little perturbed by my infatuation with this girl. It smacked of desire and attachment, which meant weakness. In my world, weakness was the only sin and an unforgiveable treason at that; meaning that the mental defences I had built for myself would come crashing down and my entire life would be altered.

And yet, here I was: stealing glances at this girl like a sparrow would nibble feed from a basket. Half giddy with the visceral thrill of what I was doing, flushed with the sheer shame of it as well, I was a complete mess. For the first time in my life, there was options and choices, a sobering prospect.

With her shoulder length brown hair, always so glossy and luxurious; the generous and inviting mouth which gently promised such forbidden, carnal pleasures. Oftentimes I would find myself daydreaming during a lecture, wondering what it would feel like to press my lips against hers. I imagined the soft texture of her lips, with a gentle, darting kiss which would blossom into a deeper, hungrier embrace. Her hands would reach around my neck and pull me in closer; taking solace from me and returning it in equal measure.

Sometimes I would allow my mind to wander further, wondering with a sense of awe that bordered upon near religious dread, what her breast would feel like under her top. How soft it would be, so welcoming and inviting. My breath would catch itself, coming only in short ragged bursts, leaving my mouth to work wordlessly in disharmony with my brain as it processed such carnal delights.

Would her heart beat faster? Surely not as hastily as mines. I dreamed that my heart would pummel forever louder and faster in my chest, maintaining a menacing tempo to my desire, as if by beating all the louder it would somehow drown out the rising tide of illicit desire rising within the essence of my being.

When I closed my eyes and thought of these things, the world and its ills simply slid away. No more doubt or fear, no more worry or pain. In its place was that most coveted thing of all: oblivion.

A significant proportion of my life was spent as if in a dream, or more precisely a nightmare. I tried to avoid contact with people, not really understanding them or the various mechanics involved of social intercourse and general human interaction. Clumsy and awkward I simply cut my losses and so discouraged conversation with others. This was not borne of malice or arrogance, but rather; self-preservation.

Unfortunately, I found myself quickly heading for trouble as I had to contend with some of the meat heads from my class.

With a sly grin that only a bully’s right hand man could ever truly conjure, Lewis eyed me with open, amused contempt. With a malicious glint in his eye, he started the ball rolling.

“Hey Lover Boy!”

With this witticism duly uttered, he guffawed and looked around for approval from his cronies. With a weak, simpering smile, they acquiesced.

I stared blankly at him. Already I was bored.

“Hey uh, Tonster. I see you checking out that girl. Guess you want to get Loose in Dat?”

This new witticism seemed to have induced a near orgasmic state of rapture within my arch nemesis, Lewis. His eyes bulged, his veins popped and his entire frame was reduced to a quivering mass. My patience already exhausted I stepped past him.

As I walked onward, I could still hear his gales of cruel laughter echoing in my ears. With a tired shrug, I dismissed him from my thought as easily as drawing breath.

After walking for a period of time, stuck in a reverie of random thoughts swirling around in my mind, I realised that many of the meditation practises and techniques I typically employed to chase away such niggling problems were not working for me at present.

Fearing that this would escalate, I ducked for cover and respite into one of the vacant classrooms.

Closing my eyes, I slumped forward in a seat and proceeded to quietly doze, blissfully unaware of what was going on around me.

Maybe I was snoring, for that seems the most logical explanation as to how Lucinda had managed to quietly enter the room, stealthily stand guard at my side and watch me intently.

I had never been one for such odd and curious concepts such as “instinct” “gut feelings” and the like; but in this one instance I was proven wrong.

Although I had not heard my beau’s entrance, nor could I see her at present, I was acutely aware of a presence in the room. Immediately my guard was up, along with my pulse and my adrenaline. Unaware of who was present and more crucially, what their intentions toward me happened to be; I could only assume the worst and as such, I was prepared for an altercation.

With as much authority as I could muster, caught in this vulnerable position, I whispered:

“I know you are there.”

There was no response. Then, as if an apparition, I saw a hand crossing over my shoulder as if to caress me. Gripping it fiercely, I spun around and stared directly into the face of the intruder; the blood draining from my face as I saw who it was.

“My, my. Aren’t you forceful?” She purred.

Disarmed by her words, stung by her mockery, I merely grimaced in return.

Lucinda.

The very epitome of my sweaty desire, the singular entity in this wretched world that actually provided some measure of relief from discontent stood before me.

I lunged at her, gripping her face between my hands and kissing her passionately. At first she recoiled, and I feared that perhaps I had been too rough or presumptuous; ruing my hastiness in such a delicate matter.

The relief I felt when she merely made a move to remove her top was indescribable.

The smooth texture of her lips, velvet under my own was heavenly. I could taste the sweet minty tang of the cough lozenge she had been sucking on a few hours before; and for some strange reason this heightened my senses and caused a stirring in my penis. It was such a small detail that made it all the more tangible and therefore erotic, that set me off.

I moved in closer with the caress, inhaling deeply into her hair, enjoying the glossy, luxurious silkiness of it; in wonderment as to how soft and welcoming it felt against my skin.

She reached down, undone my belt buckle and in one fell swoop, had my trousers around my ankles. Fearing a comical accident, I disengaged from my passionate embrace to ensure that my trousers were properly detached and set aside; lest either of us should trip over it.

In that interim period, Lucinda had taken the opportunity to completely disrobe as well; removing the white bra and panties that she had on; and stood before me entirely naked. She smiled shyly and in a touching moment of erotic innocence, actually covered her pussy with her hand.

I began to stammer something, struggling to articulate some deeply romantic or insightful comment, some pearl of wisdom that would undoubtedly ensnare her forever.

Mercifully, she recognised the discomfort I was in and slowly stepped forward, gently placing a finger tenderly and lightly on my lips. It took all of my strength to stop the quivering and shaking that I felt; though for the life of me, I could not identify whether it was lust, fear, anxiety or a heady combination of all three that elicited such a visceral and disproportionate response.

Staring deep into my eyes, she proceeded to kiss me gently on my neck and my chest; all the while sinking ever lower.

Now level with my groin, firmly placed on her knees she looked up at me give a smile of delicious promise and proceeded to engulf my penis in her mouth.

I could feel the back of her throat pulsating around the head of my dick, and I let loose a deep sigh of relief and a moan of pleasure at the warm, moist tightness of her throat. She expertly bobbed her head up and down, providing the most wonderful friction for my penis, every thrust of her mouth sending me into an electrifying jolt of pleasure.

Then, she proceeded to lick my shaft up and down, gently tracing it with the tip of her tongue; then applying the full flat pink pad of her tongue against the whole of my dick. My cock was engulfed in the shimmering fluid of her mouth, coated in mucus and saliva. It was too much for me to bear; I couldn’t hold out much longer.

I plunged my hands into her hair, guiding her head down onto the base of my shaft, letting loose an animalistic grunt as once again I found the back of her throat resting on me.

With a spasm and an audible grunt I ejaculated, a pungent, powerful graffiti to the back of her throat and mouth; a tribute to her skill and devotion. She spluttered slightly; her eyes widening in surprise at the volume and taste.

When it was done, she wiped her mouth daintily, and said with a glint in her eye:

“My turn.”