Dylan was ten minutes late. Probably stuck in traffic. Teeny went to the bathroom to reapply her lip gloss. She’d done everything Edie had said to get Dylan to cum on her on a first date: hair pulled back in a pony, schoolgirl skirt, waxed pussy, thigh highs with bows, sneakers, no panties. The only thing Teeny was bummed about was the no panties. Jesus had come to Teeny in a vision at church camp when she was sixteen, and cummed all over her pussy while she was wearing itty-bitty white boy shorts. It was so cute how Jesus’s cum soaked her underwear until she could see her plump pink pussy lips through them. It felt good too, getting her fingers all slippery and sticky, rubbing and fingering herself, until she experienced a pulsing in her privates that was so pleasurable she could imagine forsaking God for it. She even liked the taste of Jesus’s cum. Salty. Funky. The only problem with cum was how fast it dried. Edie had promised her Dylan could make loads of it. She was getting wet just thinking about it. She stuck her finger in her pussy and dabbed her neck and wrists with what Edie called “nature’s perfume.”
Teeny emerged from the bathroom, convinced Dylan must finally be at the table bearing an apology and flowers. No Dylan. Teeny’s heart shriveled like a dying rose. As she made her way across the small, dark room to the table, she tried not to let the place bum her out. The Golden Dragon was the only and best Chinese restaurant in Kingman, Arizona. It was missing the “lden” in the sign out front from an incident involving a whore, a country singer, and a shotgun. Everyone referred to it as the Go Down Dragon, since it was where all the divorcees hooked up, and the underage kids got drunk. They didn’t card.
The divorced men eyed Teeny. She ignored them. The only older man she’d ever been hot for was Jesus.
Finally, the door swung open, shooting a blast of cold desert air into the room that made the candles flicker. Dylan entered with the stunned expression of a guy who’d spent all afternoon taking rips off a bong, his black bangs swooped across his forehead, his angular limbs artfully clad in skinny jeans, a fresh pimple popping on his delicately pale skin. So hot. So emo. Teeny had to sit on her hands to keep from clapping. After two years of saving herself for Jesus, he’d never granted her another cum vision. She’d had enough. Tonight, a real man was going to cum all over her.
“’Sup.” Dylan sat across from her, his eyes bypassing her face and going straight to the cleavage. He reeked of weed.
“Sit next to me?” Teeny purred, patting her booth. It was sticky with what she hoped was egg drop soup. She’d have to wash her hands before eating.
He blinked a couple of times and grabbed the menu. “I’m starving.”
Teeny took some shaky breaths that made an unfortunate whistle. Was Jesus cock-blocking her? It was the only explanation. Every guy in town had been chasing her for years, a virgin with long dark hair, all boobs and ass and hips and a tiny little waist. She’d finally made her choice after getting super into Death Cab for Cutie and e-girl porn. Now Dylan was rejecting her.
“Do you need an inhaler or something?” Dylan said.
“Yes. Will you come sit next to me and help me with it, though?”
“Help you with my inhaler?”
She made big eyes, nodded, and waved their waiter off.
He slid in next to her and pulled an inhaler from his pocket. She could make out the long curve of his cock.
“Actually,” she whispered. “I want to show you something.” She looked down at her lap, spread her legs, and toyed with the hem of her skirt.
“This isn’t like a trap or something, right?” Dylan’s eyes cleared. “I just dumped Edie. Aren’t you supposed to be her best friend?”
Teeny’s stomach fluttered. The waiter arrived. He began to take Dylan’s order.
It was weird that Edie had not only been open to the idea of Teeny using Dylan to make her cum dreams come true but had also provided tips to seduce him. On the other hand, Edie herself admitted that the only thing Dylan was good for was sex and free weed. Also, Edie insisted she’d never been in love with him. They’d only dated through the summer, until Edie caught him in an Eiffel tower at a party with the kinky couple who ran the local Taco Bell. Dylan claimed they had never been monogamous. They had most definitely been monogamous.
Instead of Dylan, Edie had wanted to set Teeny up with this guy Harrison in Edie’s philosophy class at the local junior college. Teeny hadn’t met him, but Edie had said Harrison was Edie’s type, looks-wise, and that he was into S&M and bible studies. But the heart wants what it wants. Teeny wanted to follow Dylan into the dark.
“Hey, you gonna order, or what?” The waiter said. Dylan had already gone back to his seat.
“Oh—kung pao chicken.” Edie had been specific about that, too. It was Teeny’s first time at the Golden Dragon since her dad had gotten food poisoning there, and since she didn’t drink. Edie had insisted Teeny get the kung pao chicken. It was safe.
The kung pao chicken was surprisingly delicious. Edie knew she had a weak spot for peanuts. She offered Dylan a bite.
He paled further than his already vampiric pallor. “No thanks. I’m allergic.”
When he was done, pink-cheeked from food and beer, she tugged him back next to her and placed his hand on her thigh, so that he could feel her skin and the satin of the bow at the top of her tall socks. His eyes drifted down. She pulled the hem of her skirt up. Her nails were long and pointed, painted glossy pink. She rubbed her clit demurely, thighs squeezed tight, the half-smile of her tight pussy peeking through her fingers as she made small circles.
“Good Lord,” Dylan murmured.
“Do you want to hear about my fantasy?”
“I think we should go to my car.” His cock stiffened in his pants.
“I can’t wait for you to cum all over my tight virgin pussy.”
“You’re not saving yourself for Jesus anymore?”
“You’re better than Jesus.”
Dylan turned the engine of his 2001 Honda Civic over, flicked on the heat, turned up his ancient and scratched Death Cab CD, and swept crumbs and empty Rockstar Energy cans off the backseat. Tiny remnants of tortilla chips poked Teeny’s bare ass as she slid in, but she didn’t care; in fact, she liked the light pain and the chill of the ripped vinyl seat against her bare skin.
When he stuck a finger inside of her, she was already wet. In and out, in and out, while he circled her clit with a finger on his other hand. The strength and speed and confidence of Dylan’s rough hand where only she and Jesus had been—she grabbed his wrist to stop him before she came.
Dylan pulled back. “Want me to stop?”
“Will you cum on my pussy now? I want to finish myself with your cum.”
He giggled. “You are the naughtiest Christian I’ve ever met.”
He took his dick out. She stroked it firmly but not too firmly, as Edie had said to. Surprisingly soft on the outside for something so hard. It was like all the best dicks in porn, cute, with its little beanie of skin on top. A bit of pre-cum squeezed out. She nearly squealed in delight. She had to taste it. She lapped the tip of his cock. Salty. Funky. Just like Jesus.
“Oh fuck,” Dylan moaned. “Suck it, virgin.”
Teeny slid the whole thing in until it tapped the back of her throat, and her eyes watered. She moaned. So much better than the cucumber she’d practiced on. More flexible. More forgiving.
“Wait. Whoa. Stop.”
She let the dick plop out of her mouth and back onto his lap. Dylan’s face was twisted in agony. She put her face in her hands. She’d done it wrong! She was about to get her first serving of real cum, and she’d ruined it!
“What in the mother fuck, ow ow ow! What are you, a fucking witch?!”
She opened her eyes. Dylan’s dick was rapidly swelling, braided with red, raised scratches, as though a cat had attacked it.
Teeny got on her knees to pray. It was Jesus. He’d tried cock blocking her, and she’d ignored him. Now he was going Old Testament.
“KUNG PAO CHICKEN!” Dylan screamed. “I’M ALLERGIC TO NUTS, YOU BITCH!”
She felt as though she had been slapped. As much as she wanted buckets of cum splashing on her pussy, she would not tolerate being called a bitch. But she was still a Christian. She helped him take his inhaler. As she drove him to the ER, she had to keep hiding her smile. Edie had gotten her.
She needed to tell Edie the story in person, but she was at a party with the students in her philosophy class. In fact, Harrison was there. Her type. Teeny agreed to stop by.
As soon as she walked in, she knew who Harrison was. White tunic. The hands and chiseled features of a carpenter. Long, shiny brown curls. A soft beard. He held a bible. The spitting image of young, hot Jesus. She licked her lips. She couldn’t think of a more delicious sin.