Far From the Fjords
Copyright© 2025 by brabo1978
Chapter 8
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 8 - 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 evening air was soft with the warmth of early fall, the light already fading into a dusky purple as Freja stepped out of the Hayes’ front door. She pulled her light jacket tighter and started toward Fulton Avenue, her sneakers scuffing against uneven patches of concrete.
The plan was simple: meet Malik at the bus stop, ride together, and head up to Parkway Theatre. But the choice of where to meet had weighed on her. He had offered to come to the Hayes’ house, to knock politely at the door like any normal date. And she had imagined it for a moment—the knock, Deb opening the door, Malik standing there, tall and grinning. She had shut the thought down almost immediately.
She could hear Deb’s cautious voice in her head, reminding her about “staying safe.” She pictured the look that might flicker across her face if Malik appeared in the doorway—a look that wouldn’t be outright disapproval, but something quieter, harder to explain. And Jason—she didn’t even want to think about what Jason might say if he saw them together. So she had suggested the bus stop instead. Neutral ground. Less to explain.
Her heart was already beating faster as she turned the corner and saw the shelter up ahead. Malik was leaning casually against the side of the shelter, one foot pressed against the metal, headphones around his neck. He saw her before she called out, and his grin spread wide, easy and confident.
“You look beautiful,” he said, pushing off the wall.
“Thank you,” Freja replied, trying to sound calm, though her cheeks warmed as his eyes lingered on her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced around the bus stop—only a man with a grocery bag sat further down, humming to himself. She gave Malik a chaste kiss as she returned the compliment. “You look nice too.”
The bus came around the corner and pulled up to the curb with a heavy sigh of its engine. They climbed aboard together, Malik brushing a hand at the small of her back as though it was the most natural thing in the world. The vehicle lurched forward again, jolting her into him, and Malik laughed. “Guess the bus wanted me closer to you.”
Freja rolled her eyes but smiled, settling into the seat. Taking the seat next to her, Malik stretched his arm along the back of the seat—not quite around her, but close enough. “Who am I to argue with a bus?” Freja joked in response to his earlier comment.
Malik grinned, eyes narrowing with playful mischief. “Exactly. Gotta respect the universe when it sends a message.”
And with that, he let his arm slide the rest of the way around her shoulders, settling her gently against his side. The move was smooth, unforced, but deliberate enough that Freja felt a warmth taking over from deep within her. She leaned into him, the back of her head resting on his shoulder while his arm remained securely around her. She could smell faint traces of his cologne, something fresh with a hint of spice. She glanced up at him, and he smiled back, his eyes warm and reassuring.
“You ever been to Parkway before?”
Freja shook her head. “No. Is it far?”
“Only about ten minutes,” he said. “It’s an old theater—been there since forever. Big marquee out front with lights that reminds me of the early days of cinema.”
All too soon they arrived at their destination. Reluctantly, Freja straightened up as Malik released her from his gentle embrace. The theatre was smaller than she had expected, but it did have a somewhat grand entrance. She understood what Malik had meant with his comparison to the twenties.
Inside, Malik didn’t hesitate—he went straight to the counter and bought two tickets. Freja opened her mouth to protest, but he waved her off with a grin.
“Then I’m getting the popcorn,” she said firmly, catching his eye before he could argue.
Malik’s grin widened. “Fair enough. Just don’t skimp on the butter.”
“Butter?” Freja blinked. “You put butter on popcorn?”
Malik laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, it’s a thing here. Don’t worry—you’ll survive. And I promise it’s worth it.”
Freja smiled, still a little dubious, and stepped forward to the popcorn machine. The warm, fragrant scent filled the air as she scooped kernels into a large tub, careful to get enough for both of them. Malik hovered nearby, pretending to supervise but clearly enjoying watching her navigate the process.
With popcorn in hand and tickets tucked safely, they headed toward the theater doors. Inside, Freja was struck by the opulent decoration. Velvet curtains fraimed the screen and to Freja the baroque ornate ceiling felt perfectly in tune with the historic vibe of the facade of the building.
Malik leaned close, his voice low. “Not what you expected, huh?”
Freja shook her head, still taking it in. “It’s ... beautiful. I didn’t think a movie theater could feel like this.”
He chuckled, offering her a playful nudge with his elbow. “See? I told you it was worth coming here.”
They chose a couple of seats near the back, slipping into the plush chairs as Freja set the tub of popcorn carefully between them. Malik leaned back, stretching his legs comfortably, his arm once again finding its casual place on her shoulders. The lights dimmed further, and the opening credits began to roll, their glow reflecting in Malik’s eyes.
Halfway through the film, Malik shifted, his fingers brushing against hers again. Slowly, deliberately, he threaded his hand through hers. His palm was warm, steady, and the pressure made her pulse quicken. Freja responded by curling her fingers around his. The gesture was small, hidden in the dark, but it carried a weight that made the rest of the world fade out.
Malik glanced at her, his grin softer now, less teasing. He didn’t say anything, but the squeeze of his hand was enough to send a flush up her neck. She leaned slightly against him, letting his arm tighten around her shoulders. The movie carried on, but Freja hardly noticed the plot—her awareness was narrowed to the warmth of Malik beside her, the rise and fall of his breathing, the way his thumb traced idle circles against her hand, the way the fingers of his other hand rested casually, as if accidentally, on the slope of her breast.
Settling into the curve of Malik’s arm, her cheek brushed lightly against the fabric of his sweatshirt. It wasn’t a bold move—more like leaning into a place that already felt offered to her and allowing him, if not encouraging him, to put his hand more firmly over her breast. Malik immediately got the hint and didn’t hesitate to take advantage. His eyes were still on the screen, his thumb was still caressing the back of her hand, as if nothing special was going on. But they shared a heightened awareness of the way his hand now fully rested on her breast, his fingers gently teasing her flesh. And they shared the desire to get rid of the clothing obstructing immediate contact.
As the movie played on, Freja had no idea what the story was, absorbed by the quieter, more electric story unfolding between them. Never leaving her position against his body, she opened two buttons of her blouse with one hand. She didn’t have to look at him to know that he had seen the small gesture, that he understood her signal. The anticipation was making her heart race, but she didn’t have to wait for long.
Still watching the screen without really seeing it, she felt his hand release her breast momentarily and shift slightly in order to touch her skin. His fingers slid under her blouse, under her bra, slowly going lower until they found her hard nipple. Cupping her whole breast once again, this time making direct contact with her skin, his fingers caressed, rolled and pinched her nipple just enough to send shivers down her spine. Freja realized that there was no telling what she would have done, if there hadn’t been other people in the theatre.
Too soon the credits appeared and Freja tapped his hand on her breast. She didn’t want to get caught with his hand on her body, with her blouse partially unbuttoned when the lights would go on again. Keeping her position snuggled against him, she quickly buttoned up again. They stayed together like that until the movie was completely finished and were the very last people to leave the theatre.
Once outside, Freja felt the coolness in the evening air and shivered.
“Cold?” Malik asked, noticing her shiver.
“It’s okay,” she replied, but she did welcome his hug, enveloping her in his warmth.
His arms closed around her, steady and sure, and for a moment she let herself sink into it, breathing in the faint trace of his cologne mixed with popcorn butter.
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