Something About Jeremy
© 2009 by the author
There’s just something about Jeremy. Like yesterday—I had
a horrible day at work. Corporate advertised this big sale on snow blowers. The
truck delivers a load of lawnmowers instead, no snow blowers. At 8:00, when we
open, customers start showing up wanting to buy snow blowers. Nobody wants a
lawnmower in November. One lady starts screaming at me when I try to explain we
can give her a rain check. “I drove all the way in from Newbridge. My husband’s
expecting me to come home with a snow blower. He took my car and I’m driving
his pickup. I hate driving his fucking pickup. It smells like his fucking
cigars. I’ve got a fucking headache from that smell. I took time off work so
that I could come and buy a snow blower. I don’t fucking want to come back next
week. What kind of fucking store is this?” I’m asking myself the same question,
but of course I have to stand there and make nice. And it wasn’t even 9:00
o’clock yet.
It turned out that was the best hour of the day. A kid
got sick in aisle 4, all over a display of breakfast cereal. We had to clean
the mess up and throw out all the cereal. Then to decontaminate the floor, we
had to use bleach, and people started complaining about the strange smell and
worrying that they were going to get sick. So Leo goes over to the perfume
counter and finds the biggest bottle there, the kind little kids buy when they
have to get mom a present, and brings it back and dumps it all over the floor. So
now we have a mix of vomit, bleach, and cheap perfume. Right in the middle of
store. We didn’t sell a lot of groceries today.
Then there were tons of returns to process. Everybody
decided what they bought over the weekend wasn’t what they wanted, and so they
brought it back. I had to explain a thousand times that, yes, we do need the
sales receipt and, no, we don’t give cash refunds, just a chit for the amount
of the sale that you can use the next time you shop at your friendly
neighborhood Shopper-fucking-Rama.
Then Carl showed up late to relieve me. I had to stay a
half-hour longer. He had one of his usual excuses. He always does. At least he
could try to invent something new. Like the wife decided to spice up their
marriage and bought a dominatrix outfit and beat his droopy saggy ass raw—that
would work for me. If she doesn’t do that soon, I may do it for her.
I tell you, when I finally made it to my car, I just sat
there for fifteen minutes. I just didn’t want to move. Mistake. Big mistake. I
was so late I ran into rush-hour traffic on the way home. When I finally got
off the interstate and headed down Grove Street, I thought my troubles were
over. Wrong again. The light was out at Grove and Pine. The traffic was backed
up for blocks. The intersection was jammed, and no one would let anyone through.
Finally a cop showed up and started directing traffic. I get back an hour and a
half later than usual.
I walk in the house feeling lousy and ready to punch a
hole in the wall. God that would have felt good. I would have felt like an idiot
later, but at the moment it would have felt so good. And then I see Jeremy, and
I start to feel better. He’s doing something in the kitchen when I come in, and
he looks up and says, “Bad day, chum?” And I nod, and then he says, “Come here.
” He wraps his arms around me and starts massaging my neck and shoulders. “Just
relax,” he says. “Just let me take care of you. We’ll make everything better. Just
close your eyes for a few seconds and relax and let me take care of you. ”
His voice is so soothing. It’s like a cocoon enveloping
me. Everything just melted away. All my tension and anger dissolved. I felt so
warm, so safe, so secure. We stood there in the kitchen with him holding me
tight and rubbing my neck. “Everything’s all right now, babe,” he said, and suddenly
everything was. It’s like the day never happened.
He leaned back a bit and looked me in the eyes. He has
such beautiful dark eyes. So deep. So kind. So warm and inviting. I just feel drawn
into them. It’s like we’re locked together through our eyes. He unknotted my
tie and pulled it off and then unbuttoned my shirt. He reached in and started
stroking my chest. Just the back of his fingers moving over my pecs. He’s so
gentle. His touch is so light, yet he makes feels ten times better when he
touches me than anybody could. Nobody ever made me feel as good as he does when
he touches me. Now I don’t even want anyone else to touch me. I know they
wouldn’t make me feel as good. That heat spreading out from his fingers as they
stroke my body—no one else can do that for me. I feel so relaxed and so aroused
at the same time. It’s like his touch drains me of all tension and fills me up this
wonderful feeling of pleasure.
I always want to tear my clothes off so Jeremy can touch
me everywhere. I’m so hungry for the pleasures he brings me. Last night, I
started to pull my shirt loose from my trousers so that he could touch me more.
He stopped me. “What’s your hurry? We’ve got plenty of time. Let’s go into the
bedroom. Let me undress you. It’s like unwrapping a present, and each bit of
wrapping I remove, I find another treasure. ”
He raked his thumbnail across my left nipple. It was like
a bolt of lightning surging through me. Before I met Jeremy, my nipples weren’t
sensitive at all. I could never understand why other guys got such pleasure out
of having their nipples stroked or sucked. I would do it because they seemed to
like it and it made them excited, but when they stroked or sucked on my
nipples, I never felt anything. Then one evening, Jeremy was talking to me. I don’t
remember what he was saying, but my nipples just started to glow. That’s the
only word I can think of that describes what was happening. When he started
sucking on them, I heard someone moaning with pleasure. Later when I thought
about it, I realized it was me. When he does it now, it’s like nothing else is
happening in the world, just Jeremy and my nipples. What I like even more is
touching his nipples and sucking on them. Now that I know how great it feels, I
know how to make him feel good too.
Last night when he started touching my nipples, I felt
weak in the knees. He pinched them and started pulling me along. He was walking
backward and moving down the hall toward the door into our bedroom. I could
barely walk. I was beginning to throb with pleasure. And every step we took, I
got more and more excited, more aroused. The blood was beating in my ears, and
I felt this roaring in my body. I couldn’t see anything but Jeremy’s eyes. It’s
always like that with Jeremy now.
When we got to the bedroom, he started undressing me
slowly. Each time he exposed a new part of my body, he stroked it and kissed
it, teasing me, making me want him more and more. When he had me undressed, he
made me stand absolutely still. He likes to do that to me. It’s like he freezes
me into a statue. Then he touches me. Last night, he knelt on the floor and
began running his hands up and down my calves and thighs. “It feels good,
doesn’t it?” he asked me. “You really like this. It makes you feel so good when
I touch you like this. Just focus on my hands on your legs. It feels so good. ”
In answer, all I could do was moan. I was beyond speech by that point. My cock
got so hard. It was standing straight up. I was sort of aware of it, but at the
moment all I could think about was his hands on my legs.
Then he had me spread my legs a bit, and he began licking
the insides of my thighs starting just above the knees. His hot tongue
lubricating a pathway gradually upward. He ran his tongue slowly up and down
the inside of my thighs, each time moving a little bit higher. Each time I
thought he would reach my balls and cock, he would stop short and move back
down again. “It feels so good, doesn’t it? You really like this. It makes you
feel so good when I lick you like this. Just focus on the movement of my tongue
against your skin. It feels so good. ”
That’s when I had the first of my dry orgasms last night.
That’s what Jeremy calls it. It’s kind of hard to explain, but it’s having this
super orgasm without an ejaculation. It feels like I cum, but I don’t actually.
There’s this wonderful moment when my body hovers on the verge of orgasm and
then it just overwhelms me. It’s like diving from the high board—you’re falling
through the light and the air and you can hear other people shouting and
playing in the pool. Then you hit the water and the water explodes around you
and the sound and the light change. The pressure pushes at you from all sides
and then thrusts your body back toward the surface and you burst out. When Jeremy
freezes me and gives me an orgasm, it feels like that moment when your body
surges back into the air. I can’t move. I can’t speak, I can’t moan. There’s no
way to escape the pressure building inside me. It just grows and grows and then
there’s an explosion. We do that sometimes four or five times a night before we
finally cum for real.
My second dry orgasm came almost immediately after the
first. Even before the first one ended, Jeremy began sucking on my cock. God,
he is the most incredible cocksucker. I’ve never known anyone who is as good as
Jeremy. I wouldn’t even be tempted to let anyone else suck my cock now. He’s
the only one who can make me feel so good. It feels a hundred times as good
when he does it. He knows I love it. He’s always saying that. “You love it when
I suck your cock. No one else makes you feels as good as I do. ” And he’s right.
So even before my first orgasm ends, my second one is starting.
Jeremy’s sucking on my cock and stroking my ass. Just the
surface of the cheeks at first, but then he gradually begins stroking the
crease and then moving deeper and deeper between the cheeks until he’s touching
my hole. Just stroking it. That drives me crazy. I can’t think of anything else
when he does that. Just how horny I am and how much I want him inside me. He
knows what touching my hole does to me. He knows I love that. He knows what it
does to me. I just can’t help myself. “You lose all control when I touch you,”
he says. And he’s right. I do. Last night, he just vibrated the tip of his
finger against my hole, rubbing it quickly back and forth until it was
lubricated, and then he stuck it into me. Just the first joint of his index
finger. That’s all it takes. I had my third orgasm. He made the moment last so
that my orgasm didn’t stop. I felt suspended in time, just held in that state
of orgasm.
Then he released me. He held me as my legs gave way and
lowered me onto the bed. “Just relax, lover,” he whispered. “Relax and let me
take care of you. ” I felt so safe and warm then, knowing I was with Jeremy. He
had his arms around my shoulders and was kissing me on the lips and neck. I
felt so relaxed, my body felt so heavy. It was as if I were sinking further
into the bed, deeper and deeper. Just Jeremy and me.
Gary asked me the other day what I saw in Jeremy. People
look at me and they look at him and think I could do better. Wrong. Granted
he’s not the handsomest man in the world, and I know he’s a nerd. But my
computer never has any problems, and my phone—well, I can’t tell you what he
did to it, just that it’s probably illegal.
And he listens to me, really listens. That’s what brought
us together in the first place. I had just broken up with Kevin, and I was
feeling rotten. Some friends took me to a bar to cheer me up, but I was so
gloomy they all found somewhere else to be. Jeremy was always hanging around
the fringes of our group, and pretty soon he was the only left at the table
with me. So he asked me about Kevin, and I talked with him for a while. I felt
better after that. I took him home with me. I thought I was doing him a favor,
a charity lay. But he was the one doing me the favor.
When we got home that first night, I just wanted to jump
into bed and have sex. But Jeremy didn’t rush things. He just held me and
talked to me. His voice was so quiet, and I just relaxed. And suddenly I
starting feeling better. A lot better. And I’ve never been with anyone else
since then.
I never really talked with anyone before Jeremy. He just
makes me feel so relaxed and comfortable. I feel we can talk about anything. One
night we were in bed. He was stroking my neck. He knows that I love that and it
just makes me feel so relaxed and open to him when he does that. And he asked
me what my idea of the best orgasm would be. Without even thinking about it, I
said “incandescence. ” I don’t know where that word came from. It’s not a word
I use. But I suddenly had this clear picture in my mind of a powerful light
flaring up and overpowering everything, just blasting everything out of
existence. I told Jeremy about my vision, and then I said, “And I would like us
to come together. That would make everything perfect. ”
He looks at me kind of thoughtful and then he nods and
smiles and tells me that we had better get some sleep. I didn’t think anything
more about it. But a few days later, we’re having sex, and as we approach the
climax, the light starts to grow and get brighter and brighter. That’s Jeremy. He
just knows how to make things happen.
Like last night. Once he got me on my back lying on the
bed, he said, “Tonight, you’re going to feel ten times better than you usually
do. ” He’s always telling me things like that. “Tonight, you will feel twice as
good. ” Or “Five times better. ” Or when I really need it, like last night,
“Ten times better. ” And he’s always right.
Then he flowed into me. I never liked to fuck before I
met Jeremy. It hurt too much, and I didn’t get anything from it. But it’s
different with Jeremy. I don’t know what makes it different with Jeremy. One
night, I just suddenly knew it would feel good with him. I wanted to have his
cock inside me. I was hungry for it. With him, it’s just different. I didn’t
think I would ever enjoy it, but now it’s like this heat inside me. When he starts
fucking me, that’s all I can think about, the feel of his cock moving back and
forth in my ass. It’s a column of pleasure inside me sending out waves of
pleasure and warmth and heat and light and, oh god, it’s so wonderful. Nobody
makes me feel as good and safe and warm as Jeremy does.
And now we always come together. I know when he’s about
to come. His cock gets harder and it grows even bigger than usual, and our eyes
lock, and I just feel swallowed up by the orgasm. My focus on Jeremy and what
he’s doing and what he’s feeling is so complete. There’s nothing else there at
those moments. Just Jeremy and the white hot light.
So when people ask me what I see in Jeremy, I just say,
“I can’t explain it. There’s just something about Jeremy. ”
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