Thinking

Also written by Alex. [:

“Thinking”
Jumping onto the dock, you grab the rope and loop it around the cleat, securing it in place. You make sure the knot is tight; you’re uncle really wasn’t pleased the last time he went out t get his boat and found it 200 yards away, requiring a canoe trip to retrieve it, all while paying customers waiting impatiently dockside. You sigh, looking up at the sky. Dark clouds were forming over the mountains. Soon, they would creep down the valley, passing over the green tree tops before hovering over the lake, delivering buckets of rain to the already engorged body of water. This night she wouldn’t get much sleep; she’d have to sandbag the basement…just in case. Jumping back on the boat, you clean up your mess, gathering your items, and straightening out the cushions. You suddenly jump, dropping your belongings. You had heard footsteps on the dock and knew it couldn’t be your uncle, thank God. It was Sunday afternoon, his day off; he was at the bar, spending his extra money from the week. He’d stumble back later that evening, belligerent and sloppy…wanting attention. He’d bang on your door, begging to be let in. Sure he was your uncle, but “Only by marriage,” he told you. Still you refused, disgusted by the thought.
Looking around to see who disturbed your presence; your eyes fall on a tanned boy, with loose black shaggy hair and penetrating hazel eyes. “Jesus Joe!” you clutch your chest, “You scared me.” “Sorry,” he shrugged, smiling apologetically, “I just wanted to come by and see you… we’re leaving tomorrow.” “Oh,” you say, dropping your eyes to the ground. You didn’t want him to leave; he had such an effect on you. He made you smile, made you laugh, made you be yourself. You met him a few months earlier, at the beginning of the season. His family rented your uncle’s service for an afternoon tipping him extra to work on his Sunday. That first day, you hated him, or at least, you tried to tell yourself you did especially after he accidentally knocked you overboard, sailing at 40 knots per hour.
However, all that “hate” vanished when he was the first one to “save” you; jumping after you without hesitation. You were an excellent swimmer and probably wouldn’t have needed his help otherwise, but the speed of the fall and the rough contact with the water sent you spinning, not knowing which was up or which was down. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to the surface and hooking his arm tightly around your waist. You coughed, choking on water and struggling to breathe. “I’ve got you,” he told you sweetly, “You’re okay.” Letting you borrow his sunglasses for the rest of the day after Lake Meredith claimed yours, the two of you dried off side by side, getting to know each other. Apparently no one borrowed his glasses. How could you ever hate him?
He left the next day; the short vacation was over. You got a phone number and a kiss on cheek, more than you could ever hope for. He promised that he would return; that he’d make it up for knocking you overboard, as if saving you wasn’t enough. And he did, family in toe, he returned a month later, just as he promised. He could only steal away two days, but he spent as much as he could with you, inviting you to join his family, who were all more than welcome, especially the little one. Joe said he had a crush on you. That was cute.
He left you again, but this time with a kiss on the lips, one that lingered, that made you both open your eyes slowly and exhale deeply. Wow. There was something there. He promised once again to come back, to stay longer; he promised that he’d find time. He promised to call, to text, to some way reach you, to connect with you by any means necessary. Sometimes it would be late, nearly three AM, when he called. But you didn’t mind; he carried you away from your reality, serenading you with sweet lyrics, making you feel like you were the only one who mattered. You could hear the want in his voice and saw how he motioned to you in every televised appearance. That wink…that quick wink, was all you needed to send you over the edge. You gripped your pillow tightly at night and pretended it was him, humming you to sleep with his sweet, melodic voice. You hoped one day it was really him.
And it was. Two nights previous, he and you lay on your porch, watching the stars illuminate the night sky over the lake. You fell asleep on him that night, wearing his sweatshirt, and swinging on the hammock. He was gone by morning…you hadn’t seen him since. Not until now.
“I’m sorry I left the other day,” he says from the dock, “I woke up and it was 5 in the morning…my parents were freaking out…they thought we…you know.” You blush; you’d thought about it so many times. You wanted to so badly. You never have, but you would for him. You were waiting for love and you were pretty sure love was standing right in front of you. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. He would have to make that decision, if he wanted to. And you hoped to God that he did. “Still…sorry,” you apologize once again. He shrugs, smiling apologetically. “Soo…you just getting back in?” he asks you.
“Yea…I took it out for the afternoon,” you answer; for the first time you’re scared to look in his eyes. Maybe he’d see right through you. “By yourself?” he asked you, furrowing his brows. “Yea,” you tell him simply, “I like to think out there,” you point to the center of the lake, “It’s so peaceful out there…I drop anchor, take a nap…and just…think.” “Oh,” he nods, “…About me?” You smile, “You…and other things.” “Do you have a lot on your mind?” he asks you, becoming more interested. “Yea,” you say softly, dropping your gaze down to the deck once again. “Are you sad?” he asks you, “I mean…do I make you sad? Or is it something else?” “No,” you smile, looking deep into his eyes, “You make me very happy.” If eyes could tell a story, his would write a novel, a classic, French or otherwise, full of beautiful, intricate wording. No one knew what hid behind those eyes…what really went on in his mind, in his soul. He wasn’t just the goof. He was so much more. He had so many layers. You’d peel back one layer, thinking that you’d finally found the center and you find five more layers waiting for you. He let you peel back those layers, though; he let you peer inside.
“So…it’s something else?” he questions you, tiptoeing carefully around the subject; he just wants to get to your center. Will you finally let him? He let you in. You close your eyes and sigh sadly, nodding. “Please tell me,” he pleads, his begging eyes piercing right through you. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of what to do; how do you answer him? “Do you wanna take it back out for a little bit?” he asks you. “I can’t…it’s gonna rain soon,” you tell him, “I don’t want to get caught in that.” “Oh,” he sounds disappointed as he playfully kicks the wooden dock post. “But we just sit here for a little bit, if you want,” you tell him. “Oh,” he picks his head up and smiles, “Yeah, I’d like that.” Opening the small, iron gate, you let him enter the boat, grasping hold of his hand to steady him through the rocky motion.
Waiting for you to click the door shut and turn back to him before speaking, looks at you, eyeing you up and down. Your striped summer dress fit you so nicely; it made his fingers itch to reach out and trust you. “So,” he begins trailing onto the awkward subject once again, “Can you tell me what’s making you sad…please?” He smiles sweetly; he wanted you to tell him so, so badly. “I,” you begin, searching for the words to say, “I don’t know what it is.” “Okay,” he replies, confused by your statement. “Well I mean…I know part of it, but I’m confused…I don’t really know what to think,” you explain. “So tell me the part you do know,” he says, determined yet cautious. “It’s this place,” you begin. “You don’t like this lake?” he questions. “No…I love the lake…I love the boat…it’s my favorite place…but this place,” you say pointing to your uncle’s house, “My uncle…everything…I just can’t stand it anymore…it’s sucking the life out of me.”
“Your uncle?” he questions you. Oh no, you really don’t want to go there. “Yea…” you trail off, “He’s…not nice.” “Alessa…,” he places a hand on your upper arm, “Does he hurt you?” “No,” you quickly correct him, “No…he hasn’t done anything like that…yet.” Why’d you let the yet slip out? He would only have more questions, no doubt. “Has he tried?” he asks you, his face completely stern and serious. Oh, how he’s hurt her uncle if he ever laid a finger on her sweet head. “Define try,” you say, avoiding the answering him directly. “Alessa,” he eyes you, letting you know to stop the bullshit and tell him the truth already. “Okay…so when he drinks he gets…frisky…but I’ve never let him in…my door is always locked,” you feign a smile, trying to assure him of your safety. “Alessa…that’s not funny,” he tells you, “You’re not safe with him in that house.” “I know,” you sigh, looking down sadly, I know Joe.” “You can’t stay there,” he tells you. “Where else am I going to stay? I work for him…I need to make money…I can’t live at home right now…not since the divorce,” you tell him. “Come with me,” he says hopefully. “I can’t,” you shake your head, “There’s no way Joe.” “Yes you can…pack your stuff…it’s just a few weeks till school starts…we’ll make room for you…but you can’t stay here, you just can’t,” he pleads. “Your parents?” you raise an eyebrow. “I’ll explain everything…I’ll talk to them…it will be fine,” he assures you.
You want to go so badly. Your heart is screaming yes, but your mind is listing off all the reasons why it’s a bad idea: you need money, you’re only 19, your parents, your uncle; he’s Joe Jonas, a rock star. You love him…it would just end up hurting in the end. It wasn’t real. A few weeks would pass you and you’d be back at school, like nothing had ever happened. “Think about it,” he tells you, “Tell me when I leave.” How long was he staying? You sigh, nodding. You would give him the benefit of the doubt, even though your mind had already made its decision. Your heart, on the other hand, was determined to change that.
A gust of wind blows by and a few droplets fall, the sky now completely black. You both look up as lightning cracks across the sky, releasing furious pellets of water. “Oh Joe!” you yell, covering your head with your hands. “Come here,” he yells, grabbing your hand and pulling you down the stairs, below the deck. It was a small captain’s bedroom. A full-sized bed was built into the wall, a small nightstand and attached lamp in the corner. A small, 13” TV even lay on the dresser on the wall opposite the bed. “Here,” Joe says, walking over to the lamp and flicking the switch. Of course, it was broken. Why couldn’t it ever work when it was actually needed? “I’ve got candles,” you remember, reaching into the top dresser drawer. Placing 2 on the bedside table, a third atop the TV, and a few more on the dresser, Joe watches you intently as you go from candle to candle, carefully shielding the match from the wind. “Can you shut that door?” you ask him, nodding your head towards the wooden door pinned against the wall. Feeling a warmth begin to grow once the door is closed and the room secure, you look to Joe and then to the bed, back to him. There is only one place to sit. Hesitantly, he takes a few steps and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to him, beckoning you forward. Awkwardly, you walk over, sitting beside him. He turns his head to you, brushing the hair out of your eyes so his view isn’t obstructed. You smile; he just made you melt. “You know,” he begins, “You know why I didn’t call yesterday…after I left?” You shake your head, “Why?”
“I was thinking.” He answers simply. “Oh,” you nod; you’re curious, “About me?” “Yea…you…and other things,” he answers, smiling. “Oh,” you reply, “I hope they were good things.” “They were…I think,” he replies, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Are you okay?” you ask him as his demeanor becomes more hesitant, more nervous. “Yea,” he answers, “It’s just…when my parents like freaked out and thought we ….you know…it got me thinking about…you know…and well.” “Well?” you furrow your eyebrows; you’re so confused and anxious, very anxious. “Well…I want to,” he blushes, “With you.” “Me?” your eyes widen; you can’t believe what you’ve just heard. “Yes you,” he says, “Only you…you’re the only one I’d do this for…I mean…if you…want to, if you’re ready.” “I, I,” you stutter; how can you answer that? Yes, of course you want to. You’re scared, of course; you’re scared it will hurt. “I…need you to help me,” you admit, “I’m…scared. I mean, I want to…I’m ready…but I’m scared…I need help…I need you to help me.” You stare him straight in the eyes as he looks at you in wonderment, not believing what he had just heard. “I’ll help you…I promise…I won’t hurt you,” he tells you sincerely, “…I love you Alessa.” You smile; you can’t help it, “I love you too Joe.” He hesitantly places a hand on your thigh, running his thumb back and forth, looking up at you. “….I’ve,” you begin, trailing off.
“What is it?” he asks you, removing his hand from your leg. “I’ve…never said that to anyone before…I just wanted to let you know…that’s like big…for me,” you admit, blushing. He smiles, feeling as if he had won some amazing prize at the fairgrounds. You gave him the most wonderful gift in that moment; he only hoped that his gift could compare. Cupping your face, he brings his lips to yours, gently at first, leaving the softest, sweetest kisses on your satin lips. Bringing your hands up to his face, you run them through his soft, damp hair, taking in his amazing scent. Deepening the kiss, he traces his tongue along your bottom lip; parting them, you allow him entrance to your mouth. Your tongues intertwine, dancing back and forth as he removes a hand from your face and laces his fingers with yours. He gently bites on your bottom lip and you moan; he’s getting you so flustered, but in a good way. Breaking away and looking at you, he smiles as you both struggle to catch your breaths.
His smile fades as he peers deeper into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, making you blush. Nervously looking at you, he raises a hand to your shoulder, slipping the strap to your dress down. Gulping, you watch as he raises his other hand, sliding the other strap off your shoulder as well. Bringing his lips down, he kisses your shoulder, trailing kisses across your chest and stopping when he reaches the other side. You clutch onto him for dear life, nervous, excited, and shaking. Once more he ignores your lips, ravenously attacking your neck, particularly enjoying the sensitive spot right beneath your jaw. He loves hearing your moans as his tongue swirls around your skin, sucking on it, making it bruise. Finally satisfied with his work, he captures your lips once again, kissing you fervently, lustfully. He runs his hands to your back, slowly lowering the zipper to your dress, feeling the dress loosen and hang more and more with each tug. Reaching the bottom, he breaks away, looking at your bare chest before him and swallowing. The air is cold as a draft seeps through the cracks. Standing up and gently pushing you back as he crawls atop you, you start to breathe heavily; your nerves are just too much to handle.
Removing your unzipped dress from your body, he tosses it to the floor. His body warms yours as he shelters you from the cold. Brushing his fingers along your cheek, he smiles at you before capturing your lips once again. He’s propped up on his elbow, careful to not apply too much pressure. This had to be special for you. Running his fingers along your bare skin, he traces your side, feeling the goose bumps beneath his fingers. He breaks apart for a moment. “You’re cold,” he observes, looking at you shivering beneath him. “Here,” he says, getting up and pulling up the blankets, “Get under the covers.” You crawl beneath them and watch as he covers you sweetly. Taking his own shirt by the collar, he pulls it overhead, dropping it next to your dress. His skin tanned; his muscles toned. He is flawless.
Watching intently as he nervously undoes his belt, he slides it off, unbuttoning his jeans next. You swallow as he slides his jeans off, stepping out of them. Lifting up the covers, he climbs in next to you, kissing you once again. You feel his hand on your stomach, heading farther down, and you flinch. This is really going to happen. He smiles at you; a gentle, reassuring smile. “You’re okay,” he reminds you, “I’ve got you…I’m right here.” Of course he was right there…so close. Dipping his fingers beneath the elastic of your underwear, you inhale sharply as he gently rubs your swollen nub, feeling your wetness beneath him. You moan somewhat loudly; he hasn’t even down anything yet and yet you still can’t contain yourself…you just can’t stand it; he’s driving you insane. Removing his hand, he brings himself to his knees, pulling at your underwear. You lift your hips, helping him along. He marvels at your bare body before him his breaths nervously increasing. Shaking, he reaches for his own boxers, pushing them down slowly, revealing his full erect manhood beneath them. You look…you can’t help it. You’re more than certain he’s looked at you but you still blush. He smiles at you, completely taken by your cuteness.
Gingerly laying atop you, he kisses you passionately, building your anticipation even more. “Joe,” you sigh, trying to put an end to his tease. Bringing his hand down, he spreads your legs wide. Grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him, his hardness is at your slick entrance, teasing you. Looking you in the eye, he waits for you to approve; this is completely up to you. Nervously, you shake your head up and down, quivering beneath him. He knows you’re nervous, as is he. It’s not like he’s ever done this before either. Placing an arm on either side of your head, he kisses you gently for a moment before pulling away. “I’ve got you,” he whispers to you. You gasp as he enters you slowly. Seeing you wince in pain for a moment, she stops. “Are you okay? We don’t have to do this,” he tells you, a look of worry adorning his face. “N, no,” you shake your head, “Keep going.” Nodding, he completely enters you; his manhood now completely inside you. It only hurts for a moment; you’re so tight and he’s so big…you needed to adjust. Beginning a painfully slow rhythm, he thrusts into you gently, trying not to hurt you.
He moans lowly and his eyes flicker shut, his hot breath is on you, adding to the moisture of your already damp skin. Sliding in and out of you with ease, he continues his pace, entering you fully before pulling almost completely out and pushing into you again. You start to come alive, moving out of your fear. Gently grasping his face, you pull him down to you, kissing him deeply. He pulls away and your hands travel, raking your fingers along his slick back, earning another moan to escape from his lips. You move your hips against his, creating a steady friction and sending tingles up both yours and his spines. His hips jerk involuntarily, making you yelp; it’s just so hard for him to control his body. “Are you okay?” he asks, panting heavily. “Mmm,” you nod, “Ahh…yeah.” “This feels soo...ahh…so good,” he tells you. You know he’s holding back; he doesn’t want to hurt you. You appreciate the effort but it doesn’t hurt anymore. “Go…” you begin, loosing yourself to a moan a moment later. “W-what?” he asks you, “W-What do you want?” You blush, though your cheeks are already flushed; he wouldn’t be able to notice.
“Mmmm…go faster,” you say, embarrassed. He looks almost relieved to hear you say that; it had been excruciating for him to hold that slow, soft rhythm. Circling his hips around yours, he quickens his pace, even though he still holds back and you can tell. “Don’t…ohh…don’t be afraid,” you tell him, “You’re not…ahhh….not hurting me.” Smirking at how you read his mind, he leans down and kisses you gently.
Thrusting into you harder, he moans loudly; this is way too much for him to take. “Ohh…Joe…yea,” you moan, your chest rising and falling heavily against him with each breath. “…Shit,” he mutters, his hips jerking once again. Moving your hips in rhythm with his, you moan loudly. Clutching his back tightly as he repeatedly pounds into you, you fail to suppress the screams. You feel your toes tingle and know your time is soon. His dick is throbbing inside you, against your walls, adding to the pleasure. You know he can’t be far off either.
“…Awww….fuck,” he breathes, his voice escaping him. “Mmmm…I’m…I’m soo close,” you tell him, throwing you head back into the pillow. His hair is completely damp, curling slightly as it dangles in front of his eyes. Tiny beadlets of sweat have formed at his brow and slowly trickle down the sides of his face.
Grabbing one of your legs, he pins it up high, thrusting into you even deeper. “Oh…” you moan loudly, “Oh my God….Joe…yeah.” He has found a new, hidden bundle of nerves deep inside you. And when he hits that spot, over and over again, you lose yourself, screamingly wildly as every part of you tingles.
He feels you beginning to tense around him and drops your leg, nearly collapsing atop you as he uses his last bits of energy to slam you deep into the mattress, repeatedly. “Oh…Joe…I’m…I’m,” you try to tell him, to let him know, but you can’t even speak. Dropping his forehead against yours, you feel his hot, jagged breaths on you. He grunts loudly and you know he’s getting tired….but not yet; he’s not done. Screaming his name, your body convulses around him, releasing its juices to flow freely onto the sheet.
Feeling your body quiver beneath him and your muscles contract around his manhood, he thrusts only twice more before releasing himself within you. Moaning loudly, he collapses atop you, softly pecking your lips as he struggles to catch his breath. Rolling off of you, he lays next t you and pulls you to him. Smiling, he looks down at you and raises a shaking hand to your face, brushing your damp hair to the side. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip before leaning down to kiss you softly once more.
“I was just thinking,” you say after a few moments. “Mmm….about what?” he asks you, staring at the shadows dance on the ceiling with the gentle rocking motion of the boat. “Everything,” you answer simply, your head resting on his chest. “Oh,” he replies, “Come to any decisions?” “Yea,” you tell him, your mind still processing. “And?” he asks you with anticipation. “I,” you begin, “I want to come with you.” He smiles, “I thought you loved this lake…this boat.” “I do….and now I have another reason to love it….but this lake will always be here for me,” you explain, “And I love you more.”
“We can come back, you know,” he tells you, “You know…take the boat out, drop anchor in the middle of the lake…and…think.” “And other stuff,” you smile coyly. “That too,” he smirks. You both fall silent again, playing with each other’s hands.
“Do…you want to leave with me tonight?” he asks you hesitantly. “I have to pack,” you tell him, “And I have to sandbag the basement. “I’ll help you,” he tells you sweetly, “But…I’m not leaving here without you.” You smile; why did he have to be so charming? “Okay,” you finally agree, “But it has to be before he gets home.” It will be. Don’t worry,” he reassures you, “I’ll get you out of here quickly.”
After laying here silently with you for a few more minutes, he rolls out of bed, grabbing his boxers and sliding them on. You stare intently, amused as he redresses, running his hands through his hair, messing with his curls. Smiling at you, he crawls onto the bed. “Come here you,” he says, your discarded clothing in hand. Pulling the covers off of you, you shiver as the cold air hits your still damp body. “Arms up,” he says, holding your dress ready. You giggle as he slides the dress over your head, zippering it back up. “And now lay back,” he smirks, dangling your underwear on one finger. Placing your feet through the holes, you smile as he slides the underwear slowly up your legs, taking much longer than necessary. Lifting your hips, you help him complete the process. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down with you, kissing him passionately.
“I love you,” he says , smiling against your lips. “I love you too,” you say, finally pulling away. Reluctantly, he gets off the bed, pulling you up with him and wrapping his arms around your waist, embracing you tightly. “Now…let’s get you out of this place,” he smiles, taking your hand. “Joe?” you say timidly. “What is it?” he looks down into your piercing eyes. “Thank you for saving me.”