Play To Your Strengths
It only took a couple of weeks after Ryan met Summer for the first time for him to start jerking off to thoughts of her. He wrote it off as teenage hormones and his own self-destructiveness. He always fucked other people's girlfriends, and then got his ass kicked when the boyfriends -- and Theresa -- found out. He would have thought that after three or four incidents of Ryan fucking some other girl, Theresa would have dumped his ass and found a man who could be faithful, but she always stayed with him, right up until he left Chino.
She never fucked him, though. That, he guessed, she saved for a really special occasion. But she wasn't a virgin, and he is pretty sure that the baby wasn't his. Still isn't, since he's also pretty sure that she didn't get the abortion she called him about. She let him off the hook of self-sacrifice and years of resentment, which he's pretty grateful for. He still hates her, though, for letting him sacrifice in the first place, and he feels guilty about the hatred, and angry about the guilt.
He is totally fucked up. He doesn't even want to get started on Marissa. It's when Marissa leaves that the dreams about Summer start again. This time she's not anybody's girlfriend. He knows that's a shitty designation to give someone -- oh, that's someone's girlfriend. It's kind of like when people call him "the Cohens' charity case." He's not into that kind of labeling. He's from the ghetto -- he knows that people are more than what they look like.
Ryan also knows that people are more than the sum of their parts, especially when they've got a gun. That's a lesson Marissa should have learned during her stupid affair with Oliver.
She insisted over and over again that she never slept with Oliver, but Ryan never believed her. He totally couldn't judge that part, though; he slept with Summer three times during that fiasco. That was when he stopped fantasizing about her, and started feeling guilty about her.
Right after the whole Theresa debacle -- or, rather, right before? Before the pregnancy, after the abusive fiancé, Summer whispered to Ryan, "I told him I was a virgin." Then she danced away again. Later, Ryan reached for his smokes, and realized that she'd picked his pocket. How she even knew he had cigarettes in there, he couldn't guess.
Yeah, Ryan is jerking off to Summer again. He can't believe he ever stopped. She's completely his type: round hips, glossy hair, puffy mouth, nasty attitude.
The three times they fucked, she was crazy, clawing at his hair and back, leaving marks with her nails. There was a bruise on his inner thigh for three weeks. She liked to go down, had sucked his dick for at least a half hour, not letting him come until she was ready.
Ryan figured that Summer played to his strengths -- she was vulnerable and needed saving from her life, but at the same time, she wanted to be in charge and boss him around. Two of his favorite things in a package that wore shoes that cost more than a month's rent in Chino.
And just like he'd timed it that way, right when he is swearing to himself that he wasn't going to think about Summer all day, that instead of thinking about her or about how much life sucked or about how his whole family was fucked up, so did that make him genetically inclined to kill people and get drunk?, that instead of thinking about her he'd hang out with Seth and be there for him with all of his brain -- Summer walks in.
"Hey, Ryan," she says, and bends over. Her sandals lace all the way up to her knees and have high heels. The heels make her legs look really good, and the lacing makes her legs look really bad -- and also reminds Ryan of the really bad historical movies Summer's been dragging him and Seth to at the cheap theatre on the other side of Newport.
Only in Newport would the "cheap" theatre cost $10.
She unlaces the sandals and kicks them off, and catches him looking at her legs.
"Uh-huh," she says. She puts a hand on one hip and leans backwards like a supermodel. Ryan is totally not immune, but he's going to pretend he is. She doesn't need any more ammunition against him. "Is Cohen here?"
"Seth?" Ryan nods.
"No, I'm here to see Mr. Cohen." Summer rolls her eyes. "He's totally hot."
>From behind Ryan, Sandy says, "It's the eyebrows," and grins at Summer, who winks at him. Ryan tilts his head a little. He wouldn't put it past Summer. She's way dirtier than Seth ever gave her credit for.
"Give me a break, Chino," she says, and pushes past him into the rest of the house. Sandy grins at him from the fridge.
"I like that one," he says, and pours a glass of orange juice. "She's got moxie."
"Moxie?"
"Yeah, moxie. Attitude. Sass. She's -- she's got it going on. She's all that and a bag of chips." Sandy snaps his fingers and Ryan doesn't bother to hold back his smile.
"I thought you promised Seth that you'd never use street slang again?" Ryan takes the glass of juice Sandy holds out to him. Kirsten used to buy freshly squeezed juice sometimes -- but Ryan and Sandy and Seth order their groceries off the internet, and all they can get is Tropicana, which is fucked up. Shouldn't they get Californian orange juice?
"Ah, no! This is where being a lawyer comes in handy. I promised not to use modern slang ever again." Sandy grins at Ryan and drains his juice. "I'm going surfing, and when I get back, I thought we could head out to see Kirsten."
"Good plan," says Ryan, who does not want to go see Kirsten at all. He has a picture of her as classy and icy and tough; wearing sweatpants in rehab is not part of that picture.
"Okay," says Sandy, and leaves through the kitchen door. He comes back less than a second later, just sticks his head in, and says, "Don't let Summer kill Seth. I like Summer. I don't want her to go to jail."
Ryan nods, and Sandy leaves, and Ryan pushes the glass of bitter juice aside. He might as well go up and make sure Summer isn't killing Seth.
But Summer isn't in Seth's room. She detoured into the living room, where Seth has all of his game boxes set up on a switch -- Atari, Nintendo, Super Nintendo, Nintendo 64, Sega, Sega Dreamcast -- Rya doesn't know why he knows the names of all this shit. Summer is playing Street Fighter 2. "Spinning star kick!" she shrieks, and wins the round. "Flawless victory," announces Ryan. "That's Mortal Kombat, you dumbass," says Summer. She tosses the controller aside. "Wanna play Mario? I call Luigi."
Ryan sits down next to her, too close to her. He does it on purpose to see what she'd do, but she just leans against him a little bit, and starts up Super Mario World. He totally thought she'd been talking about Super Mario Brothers, which he's great at. Super Mario World has that dinosaur they have to ride on, and he never got the hang of it.
"I hate this game," he says when he dies on the first level trying to pick up a shell.
"Too bad," says Summer. She beats the first level and gets a bunch of lives, and then takes his controller and uses it to beat the next level, then switches back to her own. He watches her do it quietly, doesn't interrupt. She keeps up a steady stream of talking -- she's totally good for knowing when to explain to Ryan the new advances in the field of microdermabrasion and sugaring to get the hair off his ass.
"I never thought my ass was particularly hairy," he says when she switches back to his controller again.
"Boys never do," she says. "Boys also don't care about whether or not girls shave their legs."
Ryan looks down at her legs. He can't remember seeing them anything but glistening and smooth and soft-looking. He runs his hand down one.
"Hey!" says Summer, but she can't slap him away because she's too concerned with making sure Luigi can swim through the fishes to jump on the thing and save the princess.
"Whatever," says Ryan, and he moves his hand to the inside of her thigh. She's wearing a really short skirt, and he loves her thighs because they are exactly the opposite of what her thighs should be like, which is like Marissa's thighs. Summer's thighs are big and round and move when she moves, which Ryan really likes. They're tan and olivey colored and totally soft.
"Did you come here to booty call Seth?" he asks. She's wearing get-laid colors, bright ones that shock the eye.
"You and Mr. Cohen really need to stop with the slang. It's totally not a good look for you," says Summer, and beats the level. Then she uncrosses her legs and spreads them open, slouches down so that Ryan's hand goes between them.
"You're not wearing panties," says Ryan. He doesn't know why he's shocked. "You did come here to booty call Seth!"
"I decided Seth's self-involved depression for no reason at all is really boring, and I'd rather just get laid than have to listen to an emo boy cry about his mother," says Summer airily, as though she has no idea who Ryan is, where he comes from, or that he's cried more than once in the last year. She walked in on him crying just a few days ago. Maybe she's giving him a warning.
She's not even looking at him, though, she's back to playing Mario, who is going through some kind of castle. Okay, Ryan can dig it.
He leans over even more and licks behind her ear, licks her neck, licks her ear. She's wearing four little tiny hoop earrings in her left ear, and he sucks on them, runs them through his teeth. He lets his fingers slip around her clit, gets them wet. He's surprised she's not sitting in a fucking puddle, she's so wet. He remembers this from when they were fucking, during Seth and Anna and Oliver, remembers that she always smelled like sex and melons.
Summer's hair smells like almonds, and she's breathing heavy, but she makes it all the way through the castle with Ryan's fingers inside her and his thumb on her clit, just making little circles, the three fingers inside her curving up to follow her body but not really moving. She's tightening her muscles on him, pushing his fingers out so that he has to shove them back in, and she tilts her head to the side so he can kiss down to her collarbone and bite at it.
"Don't leave a mark," she says, and she sounds breathless. Ryan slides down her side, slips his other arm between her back and where the floor and the couch meet. The tank top she's wearing has one button on the back, and the rest of it's open, so he pops the button, and just puts his head under it.
Summer bends her leg up, and Ryan gets his fingers even deeper inside her, and she's still playing that fucking game. He kind of likes it like this, likes that she's pretending she's not paying attention to his teeth on her nipple, likes that she's almost shaking trying to pretend he's not there. With her leg up, anyone walking past probably wouldn't even know that he was there, especially with her arm over her chest so she could still play the game. He's totally invisible.
He wonders if that's one of Summer's kinks, to be invisible. She couldn't ever do it -- she's the most visible person he's ever met. Everything is right on the surface for everyone to see, except for how it's all completely hidden. She's a mystery, even though she's wide open. He loves it -- she's a challenge. He doesn't know how Seth could ever think he was interested in anyone else.
Ryan stops thinking about dumb shit and focuses on what he's got here. He's got a nipple, puffy and brown, and Summer's hips are rocking into his hand. He's given up on getting his thumb into a good motion on her clit, but he's got all four fingers inside her. He slides down even more and tongues her belly button so he can get a better position for his fingers. Why didn't he think to close the door? Because he wants to get caught, he wants Seth to come down and see him fucking his girlfriend-who-isn't so that they can just fight and get it over with.
Their either going to fuck or fight and Ryan would really prefer that they fight, because Seth would never be able to get over the fucking.
Either that, or Seth is going to cry himself sick and end up in the hospital with a hydration IV in his arm. That would work for Ryan too, in the short run, because then he could go down on Summer right here.
But with her leg up, maybe he could do that anyway. He doesn't even know why he cares that someone could walk in. Like Seth ever leaves his room?
Ryan stops sucking on her little pot belly and positions himself between her legs. When he looks up at her, she's not even looking at him. Her mouth is open and her tongue is swiping over her lips. He wants to bite them, wants to chew on them until she smacks him.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" she asks, her eyes on the television. "I just showered, if that's what you're worried about."
"No," he says, and bends down. Her hips are still moving, so he uses his other hand to hold them down, to press her ass into the floor. He loves her ass. When he's done licking her, he's going to make her turn over so that he can bite her ass and watch it shake, so he can squeeze it and leave his handprints on it, so that the next time Summer wants to be fucked, she has to come to him, because she won't be able to go to Seth.
When he licks her, she tastes like girl and melon. He runs his tongue over her, chews on her labia, is careful with his teeth. He pushes his hand inside her, tries to get his thumb in.
"That hurts, you asshole," she says, and beats another level. When she throws the controller aside, he expects her to pick another one up, but instead she grabs his head with both hands, and surges into his face, and braces one foot on his shoulder and stretches the other leg out over his back. He feels her heel dig into the muscle of his back and arches a little, makes it hurt more. She pulls his hair. "Focus," she commands, and he does, swirling his tongue around her clit, moving his fingers inside her, and then sucking on her clit.
Her hands in his hair guide him, but only a little. Mostly he has to go on instinct, which is hard with her. He never knows what she's going to want. Like sex on the Cohens' living room floor when she really came to see Seth. It's never the same thing twice with her. She is totally unpredictable. But not.
He pushes his dick into the floor as it gets hard, but he can't pay attention to that. She won't let him.
Ryan isn't sure how he feels about this, but he likes the way she tastes, and the way her fingers tighten in his hair when she comes, and the way she digs her nails into his back to get him to stop. He likes it when she pulls him up to her face and licks at his chin.
He tries to kiss her, and she pushes him away. "God, Ryan, you are such a girl." But she smiles when she says it. Her shirt is ballooning around her, and her skirt is around her hips, and Ryan is pretty sure there's definitely a wet spot on the floor. His face is starting to itch where her come is drying on it. He wipes his face off on his t-shirt, and when he lifts his head up, she's got her own hands between her legs, and is rubbing her clit slowly.
"I can do that," he says. She rolls her head a little and looks at him.
"I want you to watch," she says, and uses her free hand to pull her shirt off. Ryan looks at the empty doorway into the hallway and then back at Summer's bare breasts. She has no tan lines. His dick is totally hard and doesn't care that anyone could walk in on them -- and Summer doesn't care either. Her eyes are closed and her head is tilted back and her mouth is open.
She is totally high maintenance.
Ryan pulls his dick out of his pants and pushes them down and watches her pinch her own nipples. He needs more lubrication and there's nothing in the room, and there's no way she's going to suck him, not when she's so focused on herself -- god, he really does have a type -- so he reaches down and cups his hand and pulls moisture out of her. Her hips follow his hand as it leaves, and he spreads her come all over his dick and it's perfect.
He jerks off fast, his knees spread, the carpet digging into his skin. Her gasps cover the sound of his heavy breathing, and she says, "You can come on me," and he comes, that's it, four spurts over her breasts and hand, and some of it gets on the living room carpet. She rubs his come into her nipples, and if he had another five minutes, he'd be hard again and ready to come again, especially when she rubs her come-covered fingers over her mouth and licks her fingers and lips clean.
She stiffens and comes again, and that might even be the third or fourth time -- he wasn't keeping track. He wipes his hand on her stomach, and leans forward and licks her clit, licks the fingers covering her clit, licks all the way down to her ass, bites the skin where her ass meets her thighs, and she moans.
"I can't, not again," she says.
He wants to put his arms under her and pull her up on top of him and feel her burning hot skin against his. Her face is flushed and she looks dazed and he wants to fuck her, wants to fuck her really hard, he wants to make her scream, wants to make her do what he wants --
But he doesn't have a condom, and she'd get mad at him, and he thinks maybe that's not what she's here for.
"By can't, you mean..." He trails off and looks at her, and she rolls her eyes. Then she pushes up to a sitting position and winces.
"You're totally an idiot sometimes, Chino," she says, and she tugs on his shirt until it comes over his head, and she uses it to wipe his come off her breasts -- what's left of it, anyway, after she rubbed some of it into her skin. She buttons her shirt again, and stands up, wiggles her skirt down. "I have to pee."
When she leaves the room, Ryan looks at his shirt, and his dick hanging out of his pants waiting for more sex, and he tucks it back in and thinks unsexy thoughts -- Kirsten in rehab, Sandy and Summer doing it in the kitchen -- until he can sit comfortably. He turns off the game and puts on Super Mario Brothers 3.
When Summer comes back out, she looks pristine. He wants to come on her face, or maybe just go down on her again. He wants to take her with him to see Kirsten in rehab and hold her hand the whole time, because her bad attitude will make him feel better about being a pussy. Or it will just make him feel stupid, but either way he won't have to pay attention to Seth and Sandy and how their family is falling apart.
"The fuck?" she says. She stands above him with her legs spread, like Miss Vixen in porn. "Don't get all, what does this mean, now we're in a relationship, I can turn the game off whenever I want on me, Chino. I don't have time for you to be sensitive."
"I just like the raccoon," says Ryan. He hands her the second controller. "You're Luigi."