Chapter 15

“Wow, you really hit her?” Taylor asked me, smiling in shock.

I nodded and looked down in slight embarrassment. Our legs dangled over the ledge as we talked, sitting side by side. “Yeah. She seemed to like- wait, I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Quinn,” she began. “Trust me, she’s told me a lot more.”

“Well, she liked it ... rough...” I began hesitantly, rewarded with a nod. “And, I ... don’t know ... some part of it felt good to keep going. I just wanted to ... I mean, yeah. I just wanted to.”

“Huh. Wow.” Taylor’s gaze was straight forward, not on me.

“What?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just...” Taylor trailed off, her voice getting softer. “I got exactly what I wanted.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice gaining defensiveness. “What did you ‘want?’”

“Remember what I whispered to you, right before?” she quizzed me.

“I didn’t think of you until after we were fully clothed afterwards,” I asserted, telling her the truth.

Taylor just shook her head. “Quinn, you don’t get it. You weren’t hitting her.”

I stayed silent.

“You were hitting me.”

I awoke, breathing heavily, and immediately curled into a ball. For Kevin’s sake, I tried to keep any noises I could have made to a minimum, but I could feel myself shaking. I never shook before, even at my most upset.

She had to go and put the thought in my head. And I had to go and do that. Taylor really won here, didn’t she? At least Morgan cared. Fuck, Morgan never didn’t care. Why couldn’t our first time be normal? Why did I have to go and ... and ... be my own Taylor like that?

“I’m really sorry our first time was like that.”

It wasn’t the most romantic thing to blurt out while we were spooning, but it had been on my mind all day and we had just found our first comfortable pool of silence to lie in.

Morgan adjusted her head, but since she was being the little spoon, she couldn’t look me in the eyes. “Like what?”

“Do ... do I really need to spell it out?” I asked gently.

She sighed. “Quinn, all guys don’t last long their first time. Don’t worry too much about it. We’ll practice and we’ll get better at it.” She stroked my clothed thigh up and down as she said her last sentence, trying to reassure me.

“Oh wow, I do need to spell it out,” I replied shakily.

“Oh shit,” Morgan replied immediately, realizing she assumed wrongly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I meant the ... hitting thing.”

She didn’t say anything for a while, then shifted so she was looking at me. I could see the seriousness on her face. “What’s wrong?”

I sighed and looked away. “I think that-”

“Look at me while you talk,” she asserted.

“No,” I immediately replied. “This is difficult. I can’t handle both looking at you and saying it.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Go ahead. I won’t interrupt.”

“I think that ... I feel as though ... the weirdness between us reached ... a kind of apex during our first time. And I don’t mean, like, between you and I. I mean the whole group. How we got together, the friends, Taylor, everything. And-”

“Okay, can I interrupt just once?” she asked.

“Well, you did,” I replied grumpily, wanting to carry on with my point.

“Just, real quick. What’s an apex?”

“Oh, it’s like the big point, the climax of a story, the peak.”

“Okay, that’s all I needed to know, go ahead,” she replied quickly.

“So, anyways ... um ... right, so it reached an apex, and I kind of regret the choices I made in hindsight. I, uh...” I shut my eyes. “I had a dream last night where Taylor and I were talking. I don’t know if this is good that I’m even telling you this, but in the dream Taylor let me know that when I was hitting you ... I was actually hitting her.”

I paused for a long time. Enough time that Morgan felt the need to finally say something. “Well ... you weren’t having sex with her. You were having sex with me.”

“No, you don’t get it,” I responded. “Like, I was hitting her. I was angry at her or something. Like I’m still angry for ... feeling used. Even though I wanted it back then, just knowing how good we have it now, I think I felt angry at her, and I took it out on you, and you don’t deserve that, and I’m really sorry Morgan...” I couldn’t help it. I was crying again. My face hit the bedsheet and Morgan’s hand went to the back of my head, supporting me.

“Can you still hear me if I talk?” she asked in an emotionless voice.

I nodded into the blanket, still sobbing.

“Okay. This is a lot to process, but first, I think you’re overthinking it a little. We were in bed, I was responding to you being a little rough with me, you wanted to keep making it bigger. I think that’s normal for – please don’t take offense to this – a novice at sex. I get it if you feel weird about that being our first time. I definitely feel weird about it too. I didn’t dream about Arin telling me some ultimatum or something.”

“Who’s Arin?” I asked into the blanket.

“A fucking asshole,” she answered plainly, with no emotion. “An ex. Well, an ‘ex.’ I don’t wanna talk about him. Forget I said his name. I did think our first time was odd, but I also didn’t think it was, like, dangerously odd.”

“I hit you!” I protested, lifting my head up to look her in the eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. “I know. I felt it, you know. And you know what I felt? Care. Quinn, you didn’t slap me hard, you kept asking about what felt the best, and you’d occasionally stop to cry and call me beautiful.”

I felt my cheeks go red. “Uhm...”

“You’re adorable, Quinn. And I like you that way. I don’t know how toxic you felt you were, but you weren’t. Maybe this is my fault, since I have more experience. I should have insisted our first time be more vanilla, but you were enjoying yourself, and I-” She mumbled something I couldn’t hear.

“What was that?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I like when you dominate me,” she replied with a huff. “I like being dominated, and I especially like having a guy who’s emotional but also, like, rational in the real world, then he feels comfortable being a different guy and dominating me in the sex world.”

My tears had stopped by this point. “We probably should have had this discussion before our first time,” I admitted out loud.

“I actually don’t agree,” she replied. “Quinn, we can’t have a debrief before every big event we share together. You will need to learn that as we do more as a couple. It’s okay to be spontaneous, and you know what else? It’s okay to regret. Maybe you don’t like slapping me, because it reminds you of Taylor or something. Though, I’m, uh, not going to say that isn’t weird. I didn’t like hearing that you made it about her afterwards.”

“It’s not that it reminds me of – I...” I paused. “Forget I ever said that part.”

“I don’t think I can. It’s probably going to be on my mind a bit more,” she replied.

“So is Arin, but you asked me to forget him, so I’m at least going to pretend like I forgot,” I replied boldly.

She smirked slightly. “Alright, you got me there,” she admitted. “Anyway, you can slap me if you want. I enjoyed it.” She blushed. “You actually have really good technique for a first-timer. But if you never slap me again, I’ll understand.”

“I think I just wish I could have my first time with you all over again,” I admitted.

She cupped my face in her hands. “You can’t,” she softly told me. “It happened already. You experienced it, you hopefully enjoyed it, and you learned about yourself from it. You can live with that, right?”

I smiled, though sadly. She saw the look in my eyes and let go of my face, turning away. “Look, I’m really trying here. I tell you it’s okay to do it and it’s okay not to do it. I don’t get what else you want from me. I don’t have a time machine.”

“I don’t know what I want,” I admitted.

“I don’t think that’s true either.”

“Well, since you know me better than I know myself, why don’t you tell me what I want? I blurted out. She turned back, hurt in her eyes, and I immediately caved. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I don’t like being told my feelings. I don’t like being ... spoken for.”

Neither of us spoke for a bit. “I can tell you a theory I have for what you want, and you can tell me if I’m right or wrong,” she added quietly. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, that’s okay. I’m sorry for raising my voice,” I replied, just as quietly.

“You want us to pretend to have our first time all over again and make it more normal and less violent. Am I close?”

I paused to consider my own feelings and slowly gave a big dumb sheepish smile. “You’re, uh, dead on,” I admitted.

She didn’t smile though. “I don’t want to do that,” she told me flatly. “I’m okay if our second time is more vanilla or whatever the term is, but I don’t want us to pretend our first time didn’t happen. It’s childi- no, sorry, not that, but it’s unrealistic. Let’s just accept that we did stuff, even if that stuff made you realize you want to do other stuff. Painting over stuff like that is exactly what leads to the exact kind of drama you keep complaining that our group does.”

She let her words breathe for a bit, though when she saw I didn’t reply, she continued with, “and rightfully so. I don’t mean to say, like, ‘stop complaining about our drama,’ I’m just saying-”

“No no, I get you,” I said in a calm voice. “It’s a fair point. I, uh...” I stared at her for a bit, and she stared back intently. “Fuck words,” I concluded, moving in for a soft kiss. With her first smile in too long painting her face, she accepted it, kissing me back.

After a few kisses, I pulled my face back and smiled at her. “I really care about you, Morgan,” I told her meaningfully.

She gave me a playfully confused smile. “I know you do, Quinn,” she told me with a laugh, as if it was obvious. “I care about you too.”

“I just ... I dunno, I just feel really strong right now,” I admitted, blushing a bit.

“You feel strong?”

I giggled in nervousness. “Like, for you.”

She smiled back. “You really want that second time, don’t you?” she asked, the grin still on her face.

My blush only got redder. “I mean ... it’s been on my mind...” I admitted.

“Remember when we were first starting to talk to each other, and I said I’d like that, but I’d like you to...?” She trailed off.

Initiate. I did remember that. “Crazy how that was only a few months or so ago,” I admitted softly.

“If that,” she agreed.

My blush was definitely not gone. I smiled despite myself. “Hey, uh, kiss me,” I replied with faux confidence.

She giggled and leaned in, with the both of us kissing passionately from the get-go. It wasn’t even anything we said, but just what we felt. Both of us felt so comfortable with each other. It felt so right. In no time at all, we were both lying down, with me on top of her, making out with deep need and desire. If we weren’t making out, I was kissing and sucking on her neck, no doubt leaving marks, and grinding up against her, while Morgan panted, occasionally whimpered, and lightly ground back.

As my passion grew, the little voice in my head that told me to do more grew as well. I became bolder and bolder, eventually biting down on Morgan’s neck between kisses and licks, until eventually I heard, “Ah! Easy,” from her.

Even though I kept kissing her neck, I realized I was quickly falling into the same trap. I wanted to do more, and grew too desperate to do something physical.

I smiled. That’s why I slapped her. It was this primal need to do more and be more physical. It had nothing to do with Taylor. I slapped her because it felt physical and primal, and I did it on autopilot. I just liked Morgan so much it made me go into overdrive. I had my answer, and it was a good one.

I came back up from Morgan’s neck and smiled at her, clearly more enthusiastically than she expected, because she chuckled and raised her eyebrows.

“What’s up?” she inquired.

“I’m just so happy I’m with you,” I told her, not wanting to bring this, or especially Taylor, up during our foreplay. I felt tears come to my eyes again. “You’re just really beautiful, and I’m really happy.”

A tear fell to her shirt. Her eyes followed it and looked at the stain, and both of us looked at each other and started laughing. “Could you get off of me a sec? If you’re going to get this all wet, I’m going to take this off,” she said, ending her sentence with a little teasing lilt to her voice.

“Well, if that’s your reasoning, then you should probably take off your pants too,” I quipped at her.

“Ha, nice,” she replied, giving me a sly sideways smirk. “Well, since you seem to want me to...” She started taking her pants off, then hesitated. “But then again, why am I the only one taking stuff off?”

I grabbed the hem of my shirt and began taking it off. “Oh, you want me to match you?” I teased. I raised my shirt just a little, feeling a little silly, but nevertheless, showing off my abdomen to her.

Even while taking off her pants, she looked intently at me. “Mhm,” she hummed teasingly. “I do.”

Slowly lifting my shirt, I decided to tease her back. “I’ll get the shirt, but why don’t you help me with the pants?” I asked with fake innocence.

Morgan smiled and shook her head in an ‘Oh, Quinn’ way at me. With her pants now off, she walked slowly up to me, the both of us shirtless, and slowly sank to her knees. She reached out in front of her, and trailed her eyes up from my fly up to my face. I looked back at her and felt her hands at the front of my pants, leisurely groping me without making any attempt to touch my fly itself.

In response, I gripped her head with both hands and, improvising, scratched behind her ears. At first she gave a confused chortle but quickly changed her tune.

“Woah,” she purred. “That actually feels super nice.

I lightly scratched and petted behind her ears for a bit longer and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation, as her hands happily massaged my growing cock. Before long, I was at full mast, with Morgan eagerly aware of this fact. She opened her eyes and popped open my fly, smiling and moving my pants and underwear down to my ankles with zero subtlety.

“Get them off,” she told me with a wink, getting up and going back to the bed.

“No look who’s ordering who!” I noted. “Your bra and panties are still on too.”

“And whatever will you do about that, Quinn?” Morgan asked me, getting on all fours on the bed, facing away from me. Teasing me, she wiggled her butt at me as I kicked my pants to the side.

Deciding that her subtlety and attention to pacing should be rewarded and matched, I practically leapt forward, yanking her underwear down like a prankster, only pranksters didn’t stop to appreciate the person’s pussy after doing so.

I’m sure Morgan expected me to fuck her immediately when she got on the bed, but clearly, from her moaning as soon as my tongue made first contact, she was not complaining. Something about eating her out from behind was so hot, and I couldn’t resist the temptation to start jacking myself off when I got really into it and was practically burying my face between her cheeks, savoring every lick almost as much as she was.

“Hey!” I heard her practically moan. “I see you. Hands off, that’ll be my job,” she joked. I would have smiled if my mouth wasn’t already busy. Morgan was the type of girl gifted with the perfect pussy – picturesque, inviting, and visibly excited. She even tasted better than Taylor, my only other frame of reference. I figured pussy was pussy, but nope, eating Morgan’s even just felt better on its own, though that paled in comparison to the person it was a part of. I would have eaten Morgan any time she wanted no matter what she tasted like, and it helped that her taste didn’t put me off at all. In fact, I bet I learned to love the taste, but that was because the taste was reminding me of Morgan.

My love, Morgan.

I retracted my face, not being able to wait any longer, and readjusted myself. “From behind?” I asked huskily, starting to rub my dick against her labia.

She paused. “Actually...” she trailed off, flipping herself over. She moved so her back was on the bed, and smiled at me. “It would be nice to see your eyes, if that’s alright,” she cooed quietly. She looked so excited and happy there. I thought about the Morgan I met, the serious joyless girl who never smiled. Now, she smiled all the time. For me.

God, I felt so strongly for her. Smiling back, I aligned myself with her help and slowly slid in, feeling her walls close around me. It felt right, it felt like I was truly whole. Truly a person. She completed me.

I breathed with difficulty, thrusting my hips back and forth slowly a few times to accommodate us. “You ... are so amazing...” I managed, my eyes closed, now very aware of what Morgan talked about. I was crying and felt the urge to babble.

“Could you open your eyes and look at me?” she asked, her own breathing labored. “I like seeing this...” I opened my eyes, definitely feeling a tad embarrassed, but less so when I saw her eyes.

I didn’t know if it was sympathy or something affecting us both, but her eyes were misty too. Upon seeing I’d noticed, her smile got bigger. “Yeah,” she confirmed, both of us chuckling to one another, even with me still thrusting in and out of her. I saw her shed a tear and it streamed down her face at the same time my second tear hit the skin of her neck. It felt comforting to see.

“You’re such a crybaby,” I joked, and the two of us laughed again. “But yeah, are you okay?”

“As okay as you are,” she murmured back with a smile. I leaned down and kissed her, gathering speed in my thrusts. Before long we were moaning together and both working our hips in a perfect harmony, my hands too occupied holding my body up to even think about thrusting.

I thought that I would get self-conscious from looking her in the eyes, but something made it really ... okay. Nice, even. We never looked away except for brief periods where we’d readjust or she would close her eyes and throw her head back for a bit or something. Apart from that, we just enjoyed each other’s company, and enjoyed the sounds, smells, and looks of each other.

She was magical. I didn’t feel weird for crying anymore. Now it just felt sweet. Right. And even though we didn’t get super heated and physical like last time, it felt just as passionate. We still worked up a good rhythm and I was probably giving it to her as fast and deep as last time, but it felt more tender, more coupley. Interestingly, it made the other sex also feel more valid in retrospect.

I could see myself enjoying getting physical with her knowing she enjoyed it, like we were roleplaying as more extreme people or something. But I also really loved this. And I didn’t have to choose a preference. We were living in a world where we could choose how we felt and I could slap her, or I could tenderly give it to her and kiss her or something. I was in heaven, and based on the sounds she was making, so was she.

Too quickly, I could feel my balls tightening and my dick get more sensitive in that way I recognized. I started panting harder and did my best to warn Morgan, then opened my eyes and realized that I totally did not put on a condom. With zeptoseconds to spare, I pulled my dick out of her and immediately began shooting my load right above her pussy, with her still reacting from the sharp and jarring force of me exiting her to notice immediately.

A flash of pain then anger ripped through her eyes, until she adjusted and looked at the pool of cum on her. “Oh fuck!” she gasped in realization. “We were – you were -”

“I am so sorry, I totally forgo-”

“No no, I’m sorry, I forgot to-”

We spoke over each other for a bit, panting, then let out a soft chuckle together. “We both forgot,” Morgan asserted.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Good thinking pulling out when you did, I guess,” she replied. “Most guys would not have realized that. And I bet most of the guys who would have realized that would have wanted to cum inside anyway.”

“What?!” I replied in genuine disbelief. “B-but you’ve outlined that you don’t want me to cum inside you! That’s like a hard line for you. I felt bad for forgetting the condom in the first place! Who could be so selfish and just say fuck your feelings like that?”

Morgan grinned tiredly at me. “Hey look, it’s why I’m dating you,” she replied smugly, closing her legs and rummaging her middle finger in the pool of cum I shot on her. Winking at me, she brought her finger to her lips and slowly licked it off.

I nearly moaned. “Wow, fuck,” I mumbled.

“I can’t believe it,” she mused, looking at her finger. “You were inside me. Nothing between us. God, that’s sexy.” She realized the words she was saying and sat up, at least as much as she could without letting the cum pool run down her stomach and make a mess on the bed. “But, like, we need to be more careful. No offense, hope you enjoyed that, we shouldn’t do that again for a while.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” I readily agreed. “But, uh ... wow. You ... feel good.”

“You feel good too,” she quickly replied. “Fuck, now I know how good it feels. This almost sucks.”

“Hey, it’s about to run down your stomach,” I pointed out, gesturing to my deposit on her skin. “Do you want a towel or something?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, thanks,” she replied. Quickly, I got up and got one for her, and watched her wipe it off while standing over the bed, looking at her.

“You are so sexy,” I murmured. “And so beautiful.” I turned away. “Fuck.”

She chuckled. “Careful, big guy, you’re starting to sound obsessed,” she teased. “You need to control yourself when I come over for dinner, you know.”

The dinner. Fuck. I forgot about that. Mother demanded Morgan needed to come by for dinner soon and that she was tired of only hearing of her and never meeting her, and Morgan being Morgan, she readily agreed with my mother the first time I brought it up. I wasn’t sure if I was more terrified of Mother disliking Morgan, or of them perfectly getting along. And every day, that moment of Morgan meeting Mother was getting closer and closer. I groaned, raking my fingers over my face, looking away from her.

She heard me and chuckled. “Hey, I’m looking forward to it. You met my parents like a dozen times. We nearly got caught by them onc-”

“I remember, thanks,” I cut in, feeling myself blush.

“Hey, if they’re home now, we’re probably going to get the talk tonight,” she pointed out. “I told you doing anything at my place is a risk. Frankly I wish we could have done it today. It’s high time we started hanging out at your place more.”

Given her disdain for Kevin, I was amazed she was looking forward to coming to my house even once, let alone more often in general. Though, of course, it wasn’t Kevin I was worried about.

The entire time we drove to my place from Morgan’s was valuable. I couldn’t waste a single second. Anything I didn’t tell her could have been ammunition my family could use against us.

“ ... And unless you have a really good reason, like an allergy, don’t refuse anything they serve you,” I continued. “The rudest thing you can do in Chinese culture is deny food that has been cooked for you. Like, you could spit in someone’s face and it would be less rude.”

“Alright, alright,” Morgan soothed me. “But I serve myself anyway, right?”

“Everything but the tea,” I confirmed, nodding.

“Is there going to be a test on Monday?” Morgan joked. I could hear Doug laugh from the front seat.

“Trust me, it’s important to know this sort of stuff up front,” I insisted. “Okay, so, you know the stereotype about the Chinese mother? You know, like, the overbearing, really-cares-about-the-rules, strict Chinese Mother?”

“I know, I know, I won’t be stereotypical,” she said with a relaxing voice. “I get that your mother isn’t actually like that.”

“Oh no. She is. She one hundred percent is,” I quickly and emphatically said, while Morgan’s face turned to bafflement. “Like, this particular stereotype? Totally true. Painfully true. Like, she’s the mom the stereotype is based on.”