Junia Baker's Journal

Chapter Six

The following day, I skipped class because I knew my mom would be at work all day and Benji doesn't work on Thursdays. It probably wasn't a good idea, but I haven't been able to produce rational thoughts or ideas lately. I blame that on Benji - but I guess I should be blaming it on myself too.

I stand in the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of juice. We're almost out. I take a sip, acting startled when I see Benji walk into the room - as if I didn't know he was here. 
"Hey, sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. I thought you'd be at school today.'' He says

He knows my school schedule. How cute. "Nah, I didn't want to go.'' I reply, taking another sip.                                                               
"How come?'' He takes a seat at the kitchen table on the chair I usually sit at during dinner.

I debated lying or telling the truth. Either way, it wouldn't change the growing feeling I have for him inside. Besides, I want to see how far I can push this before he ultimately tells me it's gone on too long now, I've pushed past the boundary - but then again, what boundary? There's none that have been set (yet). "I wanted to hang out with you.''

I settled on saying something that didn't sound too intense or obvious that there's something from him I want, I'm just not sure what yet.

"Oh yeah?'' He cocks an eyebrow. "You wouldn't rather hang out with a guy your age, maybe?'' He lets out a tiny laugh but his question doesn't sound like just an ordinary inquisition, it sounds like he's trying to find out information for his own gain.

I shake my head and scoff. "Hell no. Guys my age are losers. And boring.'' I wanted to add more to that statement but there was something inside of me telling me not to, and this time I listened.
"Boring? What makes them so boring?'' He continues to question me.

I think it's time for me to be honest now. "Well for starters, they don't know how to respect girls their age. Secondly, they suck in bed. Like, really, really bad.''

"Hm.'' He hums in response. He shifts slightly in his seat and it makes me wonder if the words I'm saying are exciting him. He doesn't say anything else and I realize it's maybe because he doesn't know if he can, if he should - maybe he's leaving it up to me to continue without having to ask lewd questions to get more information out of me.

"I've had sex with a couple guys. Maybe like four. And they all sucked equally as bad as the last." I explain. I see him gulp in response, his eyes still on me, practically begging for more. "They don't like to talk during sex, it's like they're scared to. So that's boring. They don't touch me the way they should, they don't touch my boobs or do anything I ask. I want to be adventurous and they've all just wanted to do missionary, that's it. And don't get me started on the fact that it's a couple strokes and then they're done so I have no time to feel good." I go on and on.
I probably shouldn't have said as much as I did, but it was too late to take it back. It's like I had word vomit.
Feeling like since I've already shared almost everything I could have, I added one last comment. "I've never even had an orgasm during sex."

Benji finally loses it and he covers his mouth with his hand, holding back what looks like a groan or something along those lines. He squeezes his face a little before leaning back into the chair, dropping his hand to his lap. "Well... Maybe you just haven't found your perfect match yet."

I smirk. "Yeah. Maybe you're right." I finish my juice before placing it in the sink. "Come on," I say. "Let's go watch a movie." I walk to the living room.

A couple moments later, he joins me and sits on the couch. I browse through our movie selection on the shelf beside the TV, settling on American Pie.

Once I put it in the DVD player, I walk to the couch and sit down beside Benji, probably too close but I'm sure he doesn't mind.

I turn a little and sink into the corner of the couch, so it's easier to put my legs atop of his. "Can you rub them? They're so sore from gym class." I raise my shorts so that most of my thighs are exposed.

He licks his lips and lets out a deep sigh, letting all the air from his lungs out, his chest deflating. He places his hands on my thighs and I jump at how cold they are. Slowly, he begins massaging them, rubbing deep into my muscles but gently.

I hum and put my head back, soaking in how good it felt. Slowly, he raises his hand up, rubbing higher on my thigh, getting the muscles further up. I peek quickly, looking at him, but his eyes are on the TV. I wonder if he realizes how high his hands have gone.

I watch his one hand intently as it makes its way between my legs, gently rubbing my inner thigh. He gets high enough to where his finger ever so slightly brushes against my lips that are unfortunately covered by my shorts. I stiffen a moan and look at him.

Without looking at me, he moves his hands further down, continuing to massage me but on my calves. I want to scream - I want his hands further up where they were before. I have a feeling he won't go back up there.

We finish the movie and towards the end, I take my legs off of him. He never moved them back up and I was disappointed but I understood. I wish I could ask him if he knew what he was doing or if it was an accident but I know he wouldn't give me a real answer.