The Art of Affection

4-

warnings: swearing, dirty talk, everything is consensual, nipple play, very light dom/sub vibes, handjobs, m receiving, f receiving, slight cum play

With certainty comparable to the fact that sun rises in the east and sets in the west, a Thursday night means Jasmine and I are crammed into a corner booth at Billy's bar, with our usual company. The tradition started sometime in our sophomore year, when we both still had unconvincing fake IDs, but the door guy was good friends with Russel, so we never had trouble getting in, and the rest is history.

Eva is on a tirade about something or other. I tuned out after the first hint of whine in her voice, and now I'm playing a coy game with Harry from across the table. He keeps staring at me, with that penetrating look of his, that says we're sharing a dirty little secret and I know what you taste like, his expression smug and intimate. I can't maintain eye contact with him for more than a few seconds before the memory of him kissing me and touching my body floods back, and at the crest of that tidal wave are all the thoughts and fantasies I've had about him since.

Every time our eyes meet, it's like he can read my mind and plainly see every one of my filthy ideas, ideas I never seemed to have many of until we started this. Which would be exciting if it wasn't equal parts humiliating, given we're seated at a table with our friends who have no idea that we've kissed, let alone that we plan to eventually have sex.

Harry's eyes finally leave mine when Eva touches his shoulder and requests his input.

I turn to the guy next to me. He's a transfer student, and with this being his first semester at Longview, he's a new addition to the group, invited by Russ, and he's not altogether unwelcome. His name is Steve, and he's exceptionally good looking in a boy-next-door sort of way. His build is also exceptional; his muscles are huge and stocky, and I'm sure he must be some sort of athlete, judging by the way he barely fits in the booth beside me.

"How are you liking Longview so far?" I ask, mostly to be polite but also because I do find him cute.

Steve angles his body more towards mine, eyes flashing with interest as he leans in slightly, most likely to hear me better over the music and conversations filling the bar.

"What's not to like? Beach is ten minutes from campus, it's not ninety degrees every day like it is back in Texas, and I'm sitting next to a pretty girl."

I laugh, both from surprise and nervousness at his compliment. A quick glance around the table calms me a bit when I realize everyone is too absorbed in their own little discussions to have heard.

More emboldened by the bit of alcohol heating my veins, I smile back. "Must have been plenty of pretty girls in Texas."

Steve chuckles and sips his beer. "None quite like you, sweetheart."

I smile, shake my head, and distract myself by taking another drink, still totally astonished by his apparent interest. This isn't our first-time meeting, and every time we'd been around each other previously, it was always with a group of people. Steve mostly talked to the guys, barely saying more than a couple of polite words to me at a time. He never seemed to notice me before.

"I should let you know," I say sweetly, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him, but pretending otherwise. "The position of shameless flirt has already been filled in our group." I do my best to prevent it, but I can't help the way my eyes slide over to Harry across the table. He's finished his drink and is now sharing with Eva, and I can't quite make it out, but it looks like his hand is on her leg under the table.

"What about the position of your boyfriend?" Steve asks, leaning even closer. "Has that been filled?" There's the smallest hint of an accent at the ends of his words, which draws me closer in hopes of hearing it more clearly, even as anxious butterflies fill my stomach, but I force myself to remain causal.