Sofia gets to Jay's place

Agreeing to make a thing of it, we decide to head out on Thursday, which rolls around faster than I expect. I’m standing in the middle of my living room at mid-morning, zipping the last few things into my backpack that I think I’ll need for the trip. And then there’s the item that might be a bit of wishful thinking. A small bottle of lube I threw in at the last second because, well, we’re going to a cabin on a lake, away from everything and everyone. No kids. No anybody… You never know.

I spent twenty minutes last night picking up empty energy drink cans, tossing dirty laundry in the hamper, and wiping down the kitchen counter so it didn’t look like a biohazard when she said she’d pick me up on the way out of town. I know I don’t have the cleanest place, but it’s not the worst either. It’s livable. For me.

My phone buzzes on the coffee table. It’s Sofia calling. I pick it up and answer right away. “Hey.”

“Hey. I just pulled in and parked.”

“Cool. I’ll be right out.”

“Really?” she asks quickly. “You’re not even going to invite me up for a second?”

“Oh, uh… did you want to come up?” I ask, suddenly feeling like I didn’t clean nearly well enough since I didn’t actually expect her to come in.

“Well, I could use your bathroom before we hit the road. It’s about a three-hour drive or so.”

“Shit. Right. Yeah, then. Come on up.” I give her my apartment number and directions on how to get to it from where she parked.

I hang up, and for whatever reason, my heart starts to race a little faster. I tell myself my apartment is… fine. It’s mine. But it’s also very obviously a twenty-one-year-old delivery guy’s place filled with mismatched furniture scattered about the place. At least there’s a houseplant that’s somehow still alive despite my apparent lack of a green thumb. The plant is sad and doesn’t look the healthiest that I’ve had it, but it’s alive and it’s there.

I sprint to the bathroom, make sure the toilet is flushed and there’s no visible pubes on the seat, giving it a quick wipe down regardless, then dart back to the living room and kick a stray sock I missed under the couch. Soon enough, there’s a soft knock, and I open the door. Sofia’s standing there in cutoff denim shorts and a black babydoll top that’s semi-sheer through the midriff. She looks effortlessly hot.

“Hey,” she says, smiling as I step aside to let her in. “Nice place.”

I close the door behind her. “Um, thanks. I, uh- it’s not much, but the place is still pretty new and I don’t have any roommates, so at least I can say it’s mine.”

She glances around politely while I lead her toward the right door. “Bathroom’s right there.”

“Thanks.”

She disappears inside, closing the door behind her. I use the thirty seconds to frantically straighten up some stuff on my kitchen counter and turn off the TV. When she comes back out she’s drying her hands by running them over her arms. I can only wonder what that says about my hand towel that’s hanging from the ring inside.

“Better?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant.

“Much.” She takes another look around the living room.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“No, no. There’s something. Let’s hear it.”

“It’s nothing, really. I just… it definitely belongs to a twenty-one-year-old guy, that’s all. But like I said, it’s nice.”

I laugh, not even a little offended because the exact same phrase had gone through my head. “Ya think so? What gives it away?”

She smiles and nods toward the entertainment center. “The TV and the games don’t help. They’re clearly the main focal point here. Couch is pointed right at them instead of seated across from where other people could sit and talk. There’s no coffee table books, no art on the walls except that one poster of… quite the woman.” I turn and look, feeling the color rush into my face, having forgotten the movie poster that has my childhood crush with her big boobs on full display in a bikini. But she doesn’t pause her list. “I’ll give you credit that your bed’s on a frame at least, rather than on the floor. But it could really use a headboard. Maybe a couple of pillows that aren’t just functional. But to be fair, I guess even a lot of men don’t bother with the throw pillows either.”

I shrug, grinning. “Guilty on all counts. I’m okay with it, though. I’m a pretty simple guy.”

“Good. As long as you’re comfortable,” she agrees, walking over and giving the couch a little test bounce with her hand. “And it’s fairly clean. I’ve definitely been to boys’ places that were way worse when I was in college.” She turns back to me, with soft eyes. “Like you said, it’s yours. That’s what counts.”

“Yeah.” I stick my hands in my pockets, suddenly thinking of how different her place is. I have no doubt that the furniture she has sitting outside cost more than everything I’ve got in here. “Thanks for not judging too hard.”

“Aw, papi, I’m not judging at all.” She steps closer and grabs my wrists, pulling my hands out of my pockets. She kisses me on the lips while simultaneously placing my hands on her ass over the cutoff shorts.

Everything starts off nice enough, but the second her tongue sweeps over my lips, I open my mouth and meet her tongue with mine. Things quickly heat up from there as she slides her hands up my arms and I dig my fingers into her meaty ass, pulling her body flush against me. She makes what I’d describe as a squeaking noise when I squeeze and lift at her ass. I groan into her mouth, hands automatically dropping to her hips. The denim of her shorts is rough, but when I slide my hands a little bit lower, I find the warmth of her skin sticking out the bottom of her shorts after I’ve pulled them up into her crack. My dick twitches instantly.

She pulls back from the kiss and looks up into my eyes with a salacious grin. “You know,” she says sexily as her hands drop to the fly of my pants, “we’ve got three hours on the road… but I’m thinking we’ve got a few minutes for me to say hello to my friend here.”

My mind reels. I was not expecting to start the road trip like this. “Right now?”

“Right now.” She glances around my shoulder, like she’s checking something and starts backing me up as she pops open my pants. “Unless you don’t like my blowjobs,” she finishes with a pouty look.

“Who the hell wouldn’t like those,” I say, feeling her hand reach into my boxers to fish out my cock.

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