BellyButtonBug

I decided my heart was yours, so I threw it at you in great bleeding chunks. I missed, but I know to throw underhand now. Someone out there is stanced up ready to catch me, I hope

My first week being away from home came with a series of emotions. As I sat in the university canteen, nursing my coffee and scrolling mindlessly through my newsfeed, I couldn't help but feel a strange blend of freedom and isolation. I was a fresher, away from the overbearing scrutiny of my small community for the first time. Here, nobody knew me. Here, I could be anyone. Yet, the shackles of my past, the deeply ingrained fear of judgment and exposure, clung to me like a second skin. The canteen buzzed with the energy of early morning chatter, a symphony of youthful voices and laughter. I observed my classmates from a distance, yearning to be a part of their world but held back by an invisible barrier of my own making. I was the outsider looking in, a spectator in a world I longed to join. It was then that I overheard it - a snippet of conversation that sliced through the hum of voices like a knife. Three guys from my class, ones I had secretly wished to befriend, were discussing someone. "No, don't hang out with Johnty," one of them said, a tone of disgust laced with humor in his voice. I leaned in, curiosity piqued. But it was what came next that made my heart skip a beat. Something about Johnty and a belly button. The words 'trying to eat my belly button' were tossed into the air, and they landed heavily in my mind, setting off a storm of emotions. Laughter followed, but I barely heard it. My entire world narrowed down to those two words - belly button. The words were like a trigger, unearthing a secret buried deep within me. Ever since I could remember, my belly button had been a source of inexplicable fascination and deep-seated shame. It was the part of me I guarded most fiercely, my own forbidden territory. The thought of it being exposed, discussed, or – as in Johnty's case – explored, sent a whirlwind of conflicting feelings through me. I caught a glimpse of Johnty across the canteen as we all headed to the same lecure hall. He was nothing like I had imagined - disheveled, dirty, with an air of nonchalance. Yet, something about him drew me in, a magnetic pull towards the unknown, towards a part of me I had kept hidden under layers of self-doubt and fear. It was a chance to confront the shadows of my past, to explore the parts of me I had never dared to acknowledge. As class ends, I lingered behind, packing my things slowly. The same voices of the guys from the canteen carryed across the room. "Johnty's found a new target," one of them chuckled. I glanced up, catching one of them looking over at me with a mischievous smirk. A knot formed in my stomach. 'Who do they mean? Then, as if on cue, Johnty approached. Up close, he was bigger than I imagined. His presence imposing, almost intimidating. His large, calloused hands, stained with dry engine oil, spoke of manual work, a roughness that contrasted sharply with my own sheltered upbringing. "Hey," Johnty said his voice casual, almost indifferent. It took me a moment to find my voice, a simple "Hi" escaped my lips. There was an awkward pause, a gap filled with unspoken questions and curiosity. His eyes were piercing, it felt like he was looking right through me, seeing parts of me I wasn't ready to reveal. The others were watching us, their murmurs fading into the background. The realization hit me like a wave - I'm the 'new target.' A part of me wanted to retreat, to run back to the safety of anonymity. But another part, the part that was silently yearning for something more, for an escape from my own restraints, urged me to stay. Johnty broke the silence by asking if he could copy my class notes. His request caught me off guard. So mundane, so normal, yet nothing about this felt normal. The bell for the next class rings, a sound that usually brought a sense of order to my life. But today, it was just background noise. Today, my focus was on the man standing before me, the man who might just be the key to unlocking a part of myself I'd kept hidden for too long. Now here I am, unsure of what will happen. Johnty's invitation to copy notes over coffee, a proposal that seemed so ordinary, led us back to my dorm room. The walk there was a blur, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. 'What am I doing?' I kept asking myself, but there was no turning back now. Once inside my room, the reality of the situation set in. It was just Johnty and me, in my personal space, the place where I had spent countless hours alone with my thoughts and secrets. The air felt thick with an unspoken tension, a mix of apprehension and anticipation. Johnty, seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil, made himself comfortable, choosing the floor over the offered desk chair. He started copying notes, his large, calloused hands moving deftly across the pages. I tried to focus on my coffee, but my stomach was in knots. "Got any mates here?" Johnty's question broke the silence, catching me off guard. I managed a shake of my head, my voice lodged somewhere deep in my throat. His follow-up questions about friends or siblings back home received the same silent response. Each question felt like a probe, delving deeper into my solitary world. "Seriously? Then who'd you wrestle with?" The question seemed odd, out of place, and it momentarily pushed my anxiety aside, replaced by confusion. Wrestling? The word hung in the air, charged with a meaning I couldn't quite grasp. "I've never wrestled." I said. A silence followed, filled only by the sound of Johnty's pen on paper. I was lost in my phone, trying to distract myself from the growing unease. The occasional glances at Johnty only served to remind me of his physical presence, so different from anyone I'd ever known. Then, without warning, the dynamic shifted. Johnty announced he needed to use the restroom, and as he stood up, I felt a fleeting sense of relief. But it was short-lived. When he returned, the atmosphere had changed. There was a new energy in his movements, a purpose that hadn't been there before. Before I could process what was happening, Johnty's arm was around my head, pulling me into a mock wrestling hold. "This is wrestling," he said, a playful tone masking an undercurrent of something else. Panic and excitement collided within me as I was maneuvered back, off the chair, my back landing awkwardly on Johnty's bent leg. In that vulnerable position, with my back arched and my body exposed, I felt a rush of sensations I'd never experienced before. The fear of the unknown mingled with a thrill at the physicality of it all. Johnty's presence was overpowering, his actions unpredictable. My mind raced, caught between the desire to break free and the curious urge to see where this would lead. Pinned in this unusual position, with my back arched over Johnty's knee, the reality of my exposed vulnerability hit me with overwhelming force. I could feel my shirt sliding up, inch by agonizing inch, revealing the one part of me I've always kept hidden – my belly button. A cold rush of air brushed against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. With Johnty's gaze fixated on my now-exposed stomach, I felt a deep, paralyzing embarrassment mixed with a strange sense of anticipation. "Look at that," Johnty remarked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and amusement. "A twirling knot inside a pit with a puckered lip." His words, describing my most secret, personal feature, felt both invasive and oddly validating. He kept me in that position, his eyes studying my belly button as if it were a fascinating artifact. My mind raced with the reality of being so unprotected, so openly displayed. A part of me screamed to cover up, to shield myself from his gaze, but another, deeper part, whispered that this is okay. If I appear out of control, I can maintain a facade of innocence and ignorance. It's a bizarre, conflicting thought process – but one thst allowed him to maintain his innocence if it were ever told to someone outside this room. I was hyper-aware of every one of Johnty's movements, each breath he takes. The sensation of being so exposed was new and unnerving. My belly button, a feature I had spent years concealing and obsessing over, now the center of attention. 'Just stay still,' I tell myself. 'Let this play out. Maybe this is what you need.' The rational part of my brain tried to make sense of the situation, to find a reason or a lesson in this surreal encounter. Johnty's scrutiny didn't stop at mere observation. He began to comment on the rest of my stomach, noting its lack of muscle definition. "It's like a stretched pillow," he mused aloud, his words floating in the air, heavy with implication. I felt a mix of embarrassment and a strange, inexplicable thrill at his frank assessment. Then came the words that made my heart race even faster. "I want to put my face in there and snuggle in." His tone was playful, yet there was an edge of seriousness to it. The idea, so absurd and yet so intensely personal, sent my mind reeling. The thought of someone wanting to be that close to a part of me I'd always hidden was both terrifying and oddly exhilarating. Slowly, as if giving me time to process what was about to happen, Johnty's face descended towards my stomach. My breathing became shallow, quickening with each inch he closed. The anticipation was like a physical weight, pressing down on me. Then the moment arrived - his face pressed against my stomach. I gasped, a sharp intake of breath that was part involuntary reaction, part disbelief. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt. His face, warm and firm, pushed into the softness of my belly, making the skin around my belly button mold to his features. It was intimate, invasive, and completely unexpected. Part of me wanted to push him away, but another part of me was curious, fascinated by the sensation and the sheer audacity of what Johnty was doing. He removed his face, a brief pause that allowed me to catch my breath, then Johnty's next words sent a fresh wave of shock through me. "Your belly button is hilarious. Bet you can't stop me eating it." The playful challenge in his tone did nothing to alleviate the surreal nature of the situation. My whole body reacted instinctively, flinching at the idea, yet a part of me was morbidly curious about what would happen next. As Johnty's face descended once more toward my exposed stomach, I acted on impulse. My hands reached out, grasping at his face, trying to halt his advance. But my efforts were futile against his strength. Johnty's descent was slow, almost teasing, as he made biting and nomming sounds. The playful, exaggerated noises only heightened my sense of anticipation and dread. I squirmed beneath him, a whimper escaping my lips as I braced for what was coming. My arms ached from the effort of trying to hold him back, but it was no use. Finally, Johnty reached my belly, and I felt a sensation unlike anything I had ever experienced. My belly button, that small, secretive part of me, was suddenly enveloped in the warm, wet suction of Johnty's mouth. The sensation was immediate and intense. I let out an audible yell, surprised by the unexpected sensitivity. It was as if a hidden part of me had been awakened, a part that was unfamiliar and overwhelmingly sensitive. The feeling was a bizarre mix of ticklishness and something deeper, more visceral. Johnty's actions intensified, each suckle and munch on my belly button sending waves of bizarre sensations through me. I squirmed uncontrollably, each tug and shift of my hidden knot drawing out guttural groans from deep within me. It was a symphony of feelings I had never known, each note striking a chord of both discomfort and curious excitement. Then came a new sensation – a wet appendage, Johnty's tongue, slathering around the outside of my belly button. It circled with a teasing deliberateness before pushing in quickly. The sensation was startling – his tongue pressing against and then slipping through the center of the tight knotted into an entry I didn't know was there. I could feel the exploration, the way his tongue wormed its way into a deep chamber within me. Instinctively, I tried to crunch forward, to escape the overwhelming tickle and intrusion. But Johnty's hand pressed firmly against my chest, maintaining my arched position over his knee. I was trapped in this bizarre, vulnerable state, at the mercy of his relentless curiosity. A mix of excitement and terror coursed through me. I was on the edge of a precipice, teetering between the urge to flee and the desire to dive deeper into this strange new world of sensations. The tickling behind my belly button was building, accumulating into a pressure that seemed to pulse with its own life. The pressure inside me was building rapidly, reaching a crescendo that felt both terrifying and inevitable. "Wait... something's happening... it tickles, but it's -" My words were cut short, stifled by my own shocked moan as Johnty, sensing the change, buried his face even deeper into my belly, granting his tongue more room to delve into the very base of my belly button. My cries were abruptly muffled as Johnty's large, calloused hand, carrying the faint scent of engine oil, clamped over my mouth, covering most of my face. His tongue flicked around inside me relentlessly, as if he was on a mission, determined to provoke a reaction. The pressure inside me continued to build, swelling to a point where it felt like my belly button might just explode. In desperation, I reached up, trying to wrestle his hand away from my mouth, wanting to warn him, to tell him that something significant was about to happen. But my efforts were in vain; I wasn't strong enough. Then, without warning, it felt like an eruption was beginning. The pressure that had been building in my belly button suddenly intensified tenfold. My body reacted instinctively, and I let out three distinct, muffled cries into Johnty's hand, each more intense than the last. The climax hit, making my final cry stretch out, elongated by the sheer force of the eruption. As quickly as it had entered, Johnty's flicking tongue was yanked from my belly button, replaced by a strong, enveloping suction. My legs tried to bend, protectivly. My cheeks puffed out, blowing raspberries against his hand in a futile attempt to communicate through the overwhelming sensations. My head flew back, my vision blurred starring at the upside down closed door, doubling as my eyes crossed from the intensity of the moment. My belly convulsed against Johnty's deeply molded face, each spasm a testament to the extraordinary experience unfolding. Then came the most bewildering sensation yet – my belly button began to convulse, releasing wave after wave of something indefinable, each wave firing out in rapid succession. I lay there, breathless and bewildered, my mind struggling to comprehend what was happening, as Jonhty seemed to drink his victory spoils. I felt the pressure subsiding, my body still tingling from the aftershocks of the unexpected climax. I lay across his knee, my mind racing to process what had just happened. The room was silent except for our heavy breathing. Johnty slowly lifted his face from my stomach, his expression a mix of satisfaction and curiosity. My belly button popped at the release of suction, and I watched it, now a red outie, refirming itself back inside. Johnty's hand finally left my mouth, and I took in a deep, shuddering breath. My cheeks were sore from being pressed against his palm, and my body felt oddly light, as if a weight I hadn’t even realized I was carrying had been lifted. I met his gaze, searching for some understanding, some shared acknowledgment of the bizarre journey we had just embarked on. But he just shoved me off his knee and laughed, acting like he'd timed me out on a pin. "Too easy." He said. "Please don't tell anyone." I said, my mind racing back to home, to everyone's judgement. Johnty nodded, "Fine, but you'll need to get better, I'll help you with that."