Far From the Fjords
Copyright© 2025 by brabo1978
Chapter 3
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 3 - An exchange student from Norway spends a year in Baltimore. Her host family lives in a mostly black neighborhood. This story will take more time to get to the sexy parts than my usual writings. Codes will be added as the story progresses.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Teenagers Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Interracial Black Male White Female Masturbation Petting AI Generated
The school day dragged on, every class blurring together until the final bell finally rang. It was amazing how fast a day in a new country, with so many differences between her old world and this new one, became just another school day. The hallways still felt chaotic, the combined voices too loud, but she was starting to learn the rhythm — one that wasn’t all that different from school back home, once you looked past the surface.
Freja found herself carried along in the noisy flood toward the doors. The heat of the afternoon hit her as she stepped outside, students scattering in every direction — to buses, cars, or simply lingering on the steps to chat. After texting Jason not to wait for her, she adjusted her bag on her shoulder, her eyes scanning the crowd for one face in particular. “It’s just a project. That’s all it is.” And yet, the memory of his smile, and the way his eyes had lit up when they talked, made the anticipation feel far from academic.
It didn’t take long before she spotted him. Darius stood a little apart from the main flow of students, leaning casually against the railing by the steps, his backpack slung over one shoulder. When his eyes found hers, he straightened, lifting a hand in a small wave that felt disarmingly personal in the middle of all the chaos.
“Ready?” he asked when she reached him. His voice was calm, but there was an energy beneath it, as though he was genuinely looking forward to their meeting.
Freja nodded, hoping her face didn’t betray just how much her heart was racing. “Yeah. Where should we go?”
“The library’s open,” Darius suggested. “It’s usually quiet, and we’ll actually get something done there.”
She smiled, relieved. A public place — safe, neutral. She didn’t want to think about how easily she could have found herself agreeing to something more private. But the library — that was perfect. Together they navigated the crowd, weaving through pockets of students and climbing the steps.
The last school sounds died off when Freja closed the library door behind them. She found herself in an oasis of quiet, and welcomed the calm. This early in the school year, the library was almost deserted. Darius led the way to a corner table, far enough from the others to feel secluded but still within sight of the librarian. He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. Instead of taking the seat across, he slid into the one beside her. His shoulder brushed lightly against hers as he set his notebook down, close enough that they could both see the page.
“Figured it’s easier this way,” he said casually, angling the notebook toward her. The warmth of his arm lingered against hers for a moment before he shifted just slightly, giving her space without really moving away.
“So, I’ve been thinking. If this story’s about two people from different worlds, we’ve got some material to work with already,” Darius opened the discussion.
Freja tilted her head. “You mean ... us?”
He grinned. “Well, yeah. You, fresh from Norway, and me, stuck right here in Baltimore. Could make a good start.”
She laughed softly. “Only if you promise not to make my character sound like a Viking.”
“I don’t know,” he teased, leaning back in his chair. “Might be fun. Do you own a horned helmet?”
Freja rolled her eyes, fighting back a smile. “That’s not even historically accurate.”
“See? You’re already fact-checking me.” His grin widened. “Guess that makes you the editor.”
Freja shook her head, but his laugh was too infectious. Then his smile softened into curiosity. “So ... where in Norway are you from?”
“Sandnes,” she said. “It’s not too far from Trondheim, by the coast. It’s ... very small. Almost everyone knows each other.”
Darius’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and he gave a small, knowing smile. “Yeah ... I get that. Among the older folks in Sandtown, it’s the same. They seem to know everybody. You walk down the street, and someone’s always asking about your cousin, your uncle, your little brother ... or just checking in to see if you’re doing alright.”
Freja blinked, surprised by the connection. “Wait ... did you mean Sandtown-Winchester?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I live there. Why?”
Her stomach gave a little flutter. “Oh ... I live there too.”
Darius’ eyes widened in surprise, then he shook his head with a small smile. You’re kidding me. So we’re basically neighbors? That’s unexpected — I figured someone from your background would stay in a more upscale part of town.”
Freja arched an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching. “What, you think I roll out of bed every morning in a castle? Maybe with a butler serving me croissants for breakfast?”
Darius laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I mean ... it wouldn’t have shocked me.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” she said in her best impression of a posh English accent. “No castles. Just the Hayes’ house ... and apparently not far from yours.”
The humor lingered between them, but then the pause stretched, leaving space for something quieter to settle in. “So,” Darius said at last, flipping open his notes, “neighbors or not, we’ve still got this project hanging over us. We should probably prove we actually do schoolwork, right?”
“Probably,” Freja agreed, uncapping her pen.
Freja found herself surprised at how quickly the work stopped feeling like work; their ideas wove together almost effortlessly, stitched through with small asides and jokes. Each exchange about sources and outlines carried with it a subtle undercurrent, their conversation shifting between practical details and personal fragments — a rhythm that felt almost natural, as though the work was just an excuse for the time they were spending together.
When Darius leaned forward to underline a word in his notebook, his shoulder brushed lightly against hers. He kept talking, focused on the sentence, but she stayed aware of the closeness even after he leaned back. A little later, as they shuffled loose sheets back and forth to compare their notes, they both reached for the same page at once. His hand touched hers for the briefest second before she withdrew, murmuring a quick “sorry” that made him smile.
They were small, almost imperceptible moments — things she could dismiss as coincidence if she chose. But deep down, she wondered if there was more to it: an intent behind the casual touch, a purpose in the smile he gave her. The quiet warmth of his presence made it hard to think straight, hard to remember the warnings echoing in her mind. And yet she caught herself leaning a little closer, as if without meaning to, almost inviting more of those accidental touches.
Freja stepped through the front door, the familiar creak greeting her. The house was quieter than usual; only Jason was there, sprawled on the couch scrolling through his phone.
“Hey,” he said without looking up.
“Hey,” she replied, dropping her backpack by the door.
Jason stretched and tossed the phone onto the table. “So ... leftovers again, or do you want to do something different? We could grab a burger, maybe a shake? My treat.”
Freja hesitated for just a moment. Yesterday, he had seemed a little more open — even friendly — and she reminded herself that she’d be living with him and his family for a whole year. Maybe it was worth trying to see this side of him again.
“Okay,” she said, offering a small, tentative smile. “A burger sounds good.”
Jason grinned. “Thought so. Let’s go before it gets too late.”
Arriving at McDonald’s, Jason held open the door with his hand on the small of her back, steering her inside as though she might change her mind and bolt. The place smelled of salt and frying oil, fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. A few families crowded into the booths, kids unwrapping Happy Meals while the hum of conversation mixed with the hiss of the fryers behind the counter.
Jason strode forward confidently, not even glancing at her before leaning on the counter. “Two Quarter Pounder meals, two fries, and two chocolate shakes,” he said, glancing back at her briefly like it wasn’t really a question.
Freja opened her mouth, but the cashier was already tapping the order in, and Jason slid a bill across the counter with practiced ease. He turned back to her with a grin, as though he’d just done her a favor. “Trust me, you’ll like it. Best burger on the menu.” Freja nodded, even though she might have chosen something smaller if asked. It didn’t feel worth making a fuss over, he was paying after all.
They carried their trays to a booth near the window. Freja slid in first and was a little surprised when Jason followed right behind her, rather than taking the opposite seat. Freja gave a polite smile and started peeling back the paper on her burger, trying to ignore how close Jason was sitting next to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. The food smelled heavy and salty, but when you’re hungry everything tastes good.
“So,” Jason said, tearing open a packet of ketchup. “How’s Norway holding up without you? Collapsing, I bet.”
Freja laughed lightly. “I think they’ll survive.”
“Eh, maybe. But hey, you’ve got us now.” He leaned forward, nudging her arm playfully. “Not a bad trade, right?”
Freja smiled, unsure whether to nod or roll her eyes. “Let’s just say it’s different.”
Jason dipped a fry in his ketchup and popped it into his mouth. “C’mon, admit it. Fries and burgers beat ... what was it? Fish and rutabaga?”
She shook her head, laughing under her breath. “You really remembered that?”
“Of course I did. Weirdest vegetable name I ever heard. Ruta-baga.” He exaggerated the word, drawing it out like it was a joke in itself. Then he gave her a sidelong glance, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Sounds like a pet name or something. Might have to start calling you that.”
Freja ducked her head, focusing on her burger. “Please don’t.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.