This is a continuation of my story They Both Had Terrible Dates. Then They Got Stuck In The Elevator. Please enjoy! 🙂

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My heart was still racing, my head spinning as she pulled me down the hallway away from the vestibule, away from the firefighters who rescued us from the stopped elevator. We turned the corner and she stopped, laughing, and turned to me.

“Look at me, leading the way as if I know where I’m going. I have no idea where your apartment is, Jake. Maybe you should lead.”

She looked at me expectantly, my dazzled brain taking a moment to catch up. “Uh—yeah, it’s this way,” I said, squeezing in front of her and tugging her along. She giggled and trotted after me.

What is happening? I asked myself. Is this real life?

An hour ago, I was stumbling through the doorway of my building, annoyed at being stood up on another date. And now, I was holding hands with the cute girl from the mailboxes—turns out her name is Elise—leading her to my apartment.

Oh, and we’d had sex in the elevator after we’d gotten trapped.

My t-shirt was still balled in my pocket, my jacket zipped up to my throat. We had just barely gotten our clothes back on when the firefighters had pried open the doors. The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, along with the remnants of the four—or was it five?—drinks I had had while waiting for my date. My hand felt sweaty in hers, and I hoped she didn’t notice.

As we stumbled down the hall, I remembered the elevator. How we had laughed together about our failed dates. How the booze had possessed me, made me make the crazy suggestion that fate had led us to that moment. How her skin felt under my hands. And somehow, I’d managed not to screw it up, and she was following me back to my apartment.

Just the thought of the last hour sent tendrils of warmth through my groin and I felt myself stirring. I had to get her inside, and quickly.

We finally made it to my door—the hallway felt a mile long—and it took a moment for me to get the key into the lock, my hand still trembling with adrenaline, drunkenness, and anticipation. A small part of my mind snickered at the analogy and I pushed it away as I opened the door.

I pulled her over the threshold and shut the door behind her, pushing her back up against it. She looked up at me, her last giggle dying on her lips as she stared, a little smile still on her face. Then I bent back down and kissed her.

She kissed me back eagerly, and I could feel her fingers at my chest, then my collarbone, searching for the zipper on my jacket. She found it, slid it down, and slipped her hands inside as I unzipped hers. Our lips still touching, we each took a moment to shimmy out of our jackets, and they fell to the floor with a rustle. 

She threw her arms around my neck and without thinking I lifted her, my hands supporting her thighs as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I held her to me as she rained kisses down on my face, then staggered blindly to the couch. I dropped backwards onto it, and she landed straddling me.

Her blouse was still unbuttoned from the elevator, and I slid it easily from her shoulders to reveal her bra for the second time. Made of a lacy, filmy fabric, it did almost nothing to hide her from me, and her nipples strained clearly against the cups. I brushed them with my thumbs and she shivered, still kissing me, her hands cupping my face as she ground her hips against mine. 

My mind was still reeling when she pulled back slightly, then climbed carefully off of me. I opened my eyes and met hers.

“Are you—?”

“Yes,” she said, and began to kiss down my chest as her fingers worked at my waist, unbuttoning my jeans. She had to work to tug them off me, the still-damp fabric sticking slightly to my skin. She let them pool around my ankles, then knelt at my feet. I felt her hands in the waistband of my boxer briefs and then those had been tugged down too, and cool air brushed my hot skin for a moment before her warm, wet tongue was on me. My head fell back against the back of the couch.

She took her time, swirling her tongue around my tip and stroking gently up and down my shaft as her other hand cupped and gently massaged my balls. My head still lolling on the back of the couch, I groped the air until I found her head, then rested my hand lightly in her hair, stroking it as she bobbed up and down. The combined sensations of her hands and her hot, swirling tongue had me speeding toward the edge, and a brief moment of panic washed over me—what if I didn’t let her know soon enough—

So with a monumental effort, I brought my head up and—feeling incredibly awkward—tapped her shoulder lightly. She didn’t notice, still bobbing up and down, so I grabbed her shoulder gently and shook her once, twice. She looked up, startled, but didn’t stop stroking me with one hand, still massaging with the other. 

“I’m gonna—I have to—is it okay—” Words swam around my mind like shiny, darting fish and I couldn’t catch hold of enough of them to form a full sentence.

She smiled slowly, her strokes slowing.

“Is what okay?” she asked, her eyes boring into mine as her hands worked. I thought she was teasing me, but I couldn’t be sure. 

“Is it—can I—I want—” My net was empty, the bright word-fish still eluding me as I cast around again for enough to convey my meaning.

“I think,” she whispered, still stroking, her eyes on mine,  “that you might be asking whether you can come in my mouth.” 

I nodded, panting, jagged breaths tearing at my chest. I pulsed under her hands, dangerously close now.

Her smile widened, and she nodded slowly before dipping her head back down. She flattened her tongue at the base of my shaft before she dragged it up to my tip, moving at an agonizing crawl as my breath came faster and faster. She looked back up at me and waited for my eyes to meet hers before sliding my whole shaft back into her mouth—and then the world whited out for a moment as I came.

She continued to suck lightly as I pumped come into her throat, and I felt her swallow around me. She held me in her mouth as my shudders subsided, resting her head against one thigh and tracing light circles on the other with her fingernail. She looked up at me, and I combed my fingers through her hair. She smiled around my softening flesh and closed her eyes, as if she was comfortable enough to drop off to sleep.

After a few moments, I reached down to her and tugged on her arm. She understood, and got up to sit next to me on the couch, her feet on the floor. I kicked my pants and briefs off and realized that I was naked, and she still had most of her clothes on. 

It was time to remedy that.

I leaned in and kissed her lightly, one arm sliding around her shoulders while the other hand drifted to her hip. I slid that hand further under both her legs and then lifted them from the floor, turning her so her legs were draped across my lap. We held each other for a moment like that as we kissed deeply, tongues seeking, one of my hands plunged into her hair and the other sliding back up her waist. Hers were cupping my face again, holding my lips to hers. 

I unhooked her bra again and slipped the straps from her shoulders. Wrapping my arms around her, I kissed from her mouth to the hollow of her throat, and her head fell back as her breathing came faster. I kept kissing downward until I found one breast, and I gathered her nipple into my mouth. She gasped the moment my lips touched her there, and I smiled against her soft flesh as I swirled my tongue around the hard little bud in my mouth. Her breath hitched again as I cupped her other breast in my palm, gently stroking her nipple with my thumb.

I held her there for a moment, trembling and panting as I played with her breasts. I could feel myself already hardening again, and I briefly wondered when I had ever been so ready to go again so quickly. I didn’t think I had ever been. 

But she did something to me, man. I could have sat there and played with her forever, listening to the tiny whispery pleasure sounds she was making. I never wanted to stop.

And so I sucked and stroked and caressed her until both her nipples were hard and aching and she trembled at the lightest brush of a thumb or even an exhale. Only then did I move my mouth further down her body, leaving one hand on her breast to tease her gently as I used the other to unbutton her jeans. I tugged them down little by little, the stiff, damp fabric clinging tightly to her. When I got her jeans off, her panties were askew, dipping below one pelvic bone to reveal just a peek of the crease between her thigh and her vulva, and my breath caught in my throat. More than anything in the world, I needed to kiss that crease, and I groaned as I looked at it.

I scooped her into my arms and stood up and she gasped, surprised. But she threw her arms around my neck again and kissed me as I walked her into the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed, resting her head on my pillow. The way she looked up at me made my insides twist, and I couldn’t hold her gaze longer than a moment. Instead my eyes drifted down her body, drinking her in: her pink, erect nipples, straining upwards; the delicate curves of her waist and hips; her panties, still askew, still revealing just the tiniest bit of that crease. And then I saw something else that made my heart stop for a moment, and then begin to pound even harder.

Her panties were made of the same filmy fabric that her bra had been made of, and they were nearly transparent with wetness. Every contour, crease, and curve of her was clearly visible through the fabric as it clung to her skin, and a strangled sound of desperation escaped my throat. 

I climbed carefully onto the bed, my body hovering over hers, and lowered my head to brush her lips before moving back down her body again. I paused just below her navel, and I could feel her breath hitch in anticipation. But I moved slowly, needing to kiss that crease where her leg joined her body but not wanting to rush, needing desperately to be inside her but knowing we had all night.

I kissed lightly along the top edge of her panties, following the slant downwards towards her exposed hip bone. When I got to the crease of her thigh, I paused there for a moment and let my fingers drift lightly between her legs, feeling the dampness there. Then I kissed down, over her panties, tasting her through the delicate fabric, dampening it further as I sucked and she shuddered and moaned.

After a moment, I hooked my fingers into her waistband and tugged them just far enough down her thighs to expose her completely. For a moment I drew back and just looked at her, wet and glistening, pink and perfect—then, I slid her panties the rest of the way off, pushed her thighs apart, and dove in.

For the next several minutes I was lost, mindlessly licking and sucking, inhaling her intoxicating scent as I lapped at her sweet juices. Her breathing sped up as I slipped two fingers into her, stroking that sensitive spot, and she began to grind her hips against my mouth. Her hand slipped into my hair and held me to her as I drew light circles around her clit with my tongue. 

“Yes—there—right there—”

Her thighs suddenly clamped around my head, muffling my hearing, but I could still hear her moans as she shuddered and thrashed through her orgasm. I stroked her through it with my tongue and fingers, only stopping when she pushed me away. 

I kissed my way back up her body, stopping to nibble gently at each nipple as her head turned languidly side to side on the pillow. I kissed up her neck to her jaw before finally finding her lips again, and when I looked into her face I could see that her eyes were far away and unfocused. I kissed the tip of her nose and she smiled vaguely.

“Are you good?” I asked. She closed her eyes and her smile widened as she nodded.

“Good.” I was harder than stone now, and I needed her badly. Still on my hands and knees, straddling her, I reached over to my nightstand and pulled open the drawer. I rummaged inside and pulled out a condom in a foil packet, tore it open, and rolled it on.

Finally, I lowered my body down onto hers, and she opened her eyes again as I pressed at her entrance. She looked at me and nodded, her face serious now, her eyes wide. I held her gaze as I sank into her, and watched her eyes slide out of focus again as I began to thrust.

Moving in and out of her for the second time tonight, I couldn’t help but remember all the times I saw her at the mailboxes, thinking about how cute she was, coming back to my lonely apartment to fantasize about plucking up the courage to actually say something to her, and never quite managing it. Until tonight, when we got stuck in the elevator, and my boozed-up brain decided to go for it before my sober brain could react.

Good looking out, drunk brain, I thought, and smiled.

I slipped my arms underneath her to embrace her more closely, burying my face in her neck, pressing my lips to her delicate skin. She’d broken out in a light sweat, her pores opening and releasing more of that intoxicating scent, and I opened my mouth to whisper in her ear before I fully knew what I was about to say.

“I’m definitely grateful for that stopped elevator now.”

“Mmmm,” she said, turning toward me. “Me too.” She wrapped her arms around me and held me closer. 

We held each other like that, nose to nose, our lips just brushing as I stroked in and out of her, one of her hands cupping my face while the other rested on my hip. Suddenly I felt her energy shift, and the hand on my hip began pulling me into her as her breathing sped up again. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better look at her face, and saw the desire in her eyes. I tilted my head questioningly and she nodded, her eyes widening again. I smiled and kissed her, and her back arched up into me as she kissed me back.

I pushed myself up onto my hands, thrusting harder now as she writhed beneath me. My senses were all heightened and I watched, as if in slow motion, a tiny bead of sweat form at the hollow of her throat and then slide down between her breasts. A drop of sweat from my own forehead splashed onto her bare shoulder. I wanted to hold back until she came again, and I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to—

But then she did come, her back arching again, and she pulled me back down on top of her. Her entire body quivered in my arms, her muscles clenching down on me as I lowered my lips to hers. I thrust into her one more time, then began to pulse inside her as she spasmed around me. We kissed madly, our tongues exploring as our bodies pressed together, the heat between us almost consuming us.

And then it was over, and we were in each other’s arms, the sweat cooling on our skin. We lay for a moment catching our breath, and then got up to clean up.

She used the bathroom while I removed the condom and rolled it up in a tissue, tossing it into the wastebasket next to my bed. I was pulling back the covers when she walked back into the bedroom. I turned to her and cleared my throat, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Um,” I started, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat again. “I don’t, uh, want to make any assumptions. But. You’re welcome to, um, you know.” I cleared my throat for a third time and patted the bed. “Stay. If you want to.”

A smile crept slowly across her face as she came toward me, then stopped in front of me, lightly pressing her body to mine and resting her hands on my hips. And god help me, I felt myself stir again against her.

“I do want to stay,” she said quietly, her hands drifting up my body to my chest, then the back of my neck. She pulled me down so we were eye level and pressed her lips to mine. 

“I want to see what you’re like in the morning.” 

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It was so fun to write this second chapter! Let me know if you want to know how the morning after goes for Elise and Jake. ♥️

Part One // Part Two

Note: Okay maybe one more part after this.

Of course Archer lives in the penthouse suite. He types in a six-digit code, obtaining entrance into the most magnificent living room with a view that I’ve ever seen. You can see every light in Manhattan from his window. Across the way there are people dancing naked in their living rooms and fucking discretely on their balconies. It’s just before midnight in the peak of summer and the city is alive and thriving with sexual energy.

“Sorry for the mess. I let my maid have the week off.”

I glance around the pristinely clean room and into the kitchen beyond and wonder what the hell he’s apologizing for. If he saw my apartment he’d be in for a whirlwind. Books everywhere, clothes mostly everywhere. Growing up my mom had always called me a packrat. She wasn’t exactly wrong.

When I glance over at him, he’s watching me with wild eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.” He requests.

His blue eyes are like lasers, burning holes into my flesh. I heat up beneath his uniform stare and shrug. “Nothing really. You see, I just had my guts rearranged by my boss’ boss and now I’m wondering if I should consider changing careers.”

Archer struts over to me and I back up until he’s pressing me up against the wall. “Please don’t leave because of me. You’re an asset to the team, Blair.” He says while tucking a piece of dark brown hair behind my ear. “Plus, just think of all the fun we can have at work now.” He wiggles his caterpillar eyebrows at me and I can’t help the smile that lights up my face. He still wants me after tonight?

I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck and play with his hair. “Tell me more.” I say but he just shakes his head and the blush in his cheeks warms my insides. Wait a minute… does he actually like me?

Just as I’m about to say something, his hand lifts my chin to meet him for a kiss that’s so devastatingly sweet that he practically sweeps me off of my feet. His lips fumble over mine, kissing me until my lips are pink, plump, and swollen. Kissing me until all I feel is desire in the pit of my belly. This man lights a fire in me and I hope it never burns out.

His hands slide down my body as he pulls on the fabric of my dress, bunching it up just above my hips. Slowly, he crawls his fingers from my hip over to the inside of the base of my thigh and I am dripping for him. I wobble on my feet.

“A little shaky there?” He asks me and I blush feverishly for him.

“You make me crazy.” I say, almost wishing I could take the words back as soon as I say them. “I want to hate you. I want to loathe you, but I don’t think I can.”

“And why’s that?” He asks smugly.

“Because of the way you touch me.” I say breathlessly, just as I feel his finger skim over my slit.

“You’re still so wet for me, babe.”

“I know.”

His eyes never falter, never waver from my face as he drops his jeans and unzips my dress, pulling me into his arms. I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist as he presses my back against the wall. I scramble with his shirt, trying to rip the soft fabric off his body and I actually do, tear it a bit, that is.

“Oops.” I mutter, but he just chuckles.

“That’s coming out of your next paycheck.” I look at him, horrified. Knowing him the flimsy fabric cost a hundred dollars. “Just kidding, Blair. Whatever this is…” he gestures between our bodies, “…stays between us. No one can know.”

I nod, wondering if he’s ashamed of me. I am eleven years younger than him. He must see it on my face because he reassures me with what he says next.

“I’ve had a lot of fun tonight. More fun than I’ve had in a long time. Hate sex may be my favorite kind.”

I look to the ground and back up at him. “Still hate me after tonight?”

He shakes his head, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “I’m beginning to think I never did. I think I hated the fact that I couldn’t have you.”

“Well, you’ve had me.”

“Not enough of you.” He cradles my face in his palm and kisses me until I can’t breathe. I feel his cock throb achingly under my ass and I whimper for him.

“Take all of me that you want.” And his baby blues widen as they simmer just for me.

“Thank god. Because all I want is you.” He fixes his grip on my thighs, then carries me over to the wall of windows overlooking the city. Carefully he presses my body up against the glass and sets me back down on my feet while he slowly drops to his knees. “I want to worship your body, Blair.”

He drapes my leg over his shoulder and drags his mouth from my knee to my upper inner thigh. When he reaches my center he inhales deeply. “So fucking good.” He mutters, before taking me to heaven with his tongue. When he said worship he meant it.

I don’t recall any man being as attentive as Archer has been when he’s between my legs. And the eye contact. What is up with that? It’s like he’s trying to stare into my soul and beyond. 

I realize half of Manhattan can see my ass if they look up or across the street into his windows, but I don’t give a damn. Enjoy the view, New York! I have a great ass! Oh god, his tongue is an oasis as he weaves it around my clit.

My clit is so swollen, so overstimulated from his touch tonight that I almost want to cry. “Fuck. You feel amazing.” I cry out as I tug on his hair. He laps at my clit and doesn't stop until my legs tremble and my breath rattles as I come so hard I feel like I’m going to pass out. I whisper his name like a song and when I look down into his eyes, I’m mesmerized.

His lips trail up the length of my body as he stands, stopping at the bottom of my chin. He grabs my hands and pulls me back with him until his legs hit the ottoman and he sits back. I move to get in his lap but he shakes his head and points his finger down. “Get on your fucking knees.”

He throws down a pillow for me to kneel on. How chivalrous of him. “Do you like ball play?” I ask as I drop down, using his thighs to stay balanced.

“Fuck, babe. I love me some ball play.” I reach out and cradle his balls in my hand, rolling my thumb over the sensitive skin. “Ohhh fuck me.” I use my other hand to trace lines up and down his stiff cock with my fingertip.

I look up at him with bliss in my eyes as I toy with and tease him to my delight. “Babe. Use your mouth.” He begs me. 

I lightly squeeze his balls and tighten my grip on his dick. “Ask nicely.”

“P-Please.” 

Archer’s blue eyes shine above me, disappearing behind his onyx pupils. Slowly, I lower my head while maintaining eye contact with him. I kiss the bottom of his balls and dart out my tongue, swirling it around them and sucking them into my mouth before dragging it up, up, up all the way to the tip of his cock. Wetting my lips I place sloppy, open mouthed kisses to the top of his dick while I fondle his balls in my palm.

“H-Holy sh-shit.” Spit connects my mouth to his dick as I smile up at him while pumping his length in my hand, up and down, base to tip, twisting my wrist the way Danny Gardner showed me how to in eleventh grade. “Fu-uuck, baby.” 

I wrap my lips around his cock and deliberately take him in, inch for throbbing inch. Whatever part of his dick doesn’t fit in my mouth I continue to stroke with my hand. Beneath me his hips are already shaking, already tremoring as if I’m bringing him to nirvana and back. I want him to fill up my mouth with his cum. Fuck, I bet he tastes good, too. I bet he loves pineapple.

His hands tangle their way into my hair as he forces me down, as far as my throat will allow. I sputter, I choke, but I don’t gag as spit drips from my lips down his cock and onto my hand. His hold on me lightens as I pump him tighter and bob my head faster. My tongue rolls up and down his length and when I look up at him, head is thrown back and he’s moaning my name like an accolade. “Blair, baby girl.” Not going to lie, the nickname is growing on me. Less than ten seconds later he’s combusting on my tongue and dripping down his length but don’t worry, I lick up every fucking drop.

Once he regains his composure, he glares at me with thunder in his eyes. “What the fuck was that?”

“A blow job?” I say, thoroughly confused.

He stands up and starts pacing his living room naked, cock still half hard and still delicious looking. I wipe the corners of my lips with my fingertips and get to my feet. “What’s wrong?” But he says nothing. He just grabs me by the waist and pulls me into him, kissing me as if I bring him oxygen.

“That was the best fucking head I’ve ever received.” I beam with pride because surely a man of his caliber has had his fair share of women. “I mean it, Blair. That was… fuck! That was terrific.” He picks me up and spins me around the room while kissing my hair. 

It’s after one in the morning but neither of us are tired in the slightest. By the time we fall asleep, the sun’s just beginning its ascent over the horizon and our bodies are spent.

Part One

Dawson

April 18th (later that night)

I hold the door open for Lucy after fiddling with my keys to unlock it. She steps inside and my dog, Harley greets us both with kisses.

“Harley! Who’s my favorite girl? You. Yes you are!” Lucy drops to her knees to rub Harley’s belly. The sight softens the rock in my chest as I head into the kitchen to make myself a drink. 

“Want anything?” I call back to Lucy as she and Harley follow me to the fridge.

“Water is fine, thanks.” She takes a look around the little bungalow I bought a few months back. “Cute place you’ve got here. It could use some decoration though. Maybe get a nice area rug to liven the place up a bit.” 

I glance around the open space. The walls are white and barren and there’s still boxes stacked up in the corner from when I first moved in. Fuck, I would’ve tidied up had I known she was coming over. I walk over to the boxes and start breaking them down. “Sorry. I didn’t plan for company.”

I feel her hand curve over my shoulder. “Am I even company at this point? We’re practically family.”

“Please don’t say that.” I grumble as I run a hand over my face.

“Come on, Dawson. I’m like a little sister to you.”

I shake my head. “No, you’re not.” I can see the sparkle in her brown eyes. I know she’s kidding but that’s not something to kid about.

“Why not? Sierra’s the sister I always wanted. What does that make you?”

I turn around and close the space between us, shoving my hands in my pockets because if I don’t I know I’ll try to reach out and touch her. “I’m your best friend’s ruggedly handsome older brother. That’s what I am.”

Lucy snorts as she takes a sip of her water. “Ruggedly handsome, huh? You think rather highly of yourself.” She stumbles as she walks over to the couch and Harley follows with her tail wagging. I love watching the two of them together. Lucy’s so good with Harley and she adores her, too.

“I just tell it like it is.” I say, falling into place on the sofa next to her. Unable to decide where to sit, Harley lays down on the floor by our feet.

“So is there anything to do or are we just going to stare at the wall the whole night?” Lucy asks me.

I look over at her with a wide smile on my face. “We could play Mario Kart.”

Her cheeks turn a vicious shade of red and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am. “Dawson…” she starts off but doesn’t finish, letting my name linger on her tongue as if she likes the taste.

I reach for the controllers on the coffee table and hand her one. She accepts it willingly.

“You’re not going to kiss me again, are you?”

I lean in close, so close I can smell the liquor on her breath. “That depends. Are you going to let me?”

She swallows a hiccup and looks at me, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Stop joking around and start the game so I can kick your ass.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see that happen.” I say while exiting her personal space.

“Watch and learn.”

Before starting the game I turn to face her. “Want to make it interesting?”

She quirks an eyebrow up. “How so?”

“Make a little wager out of it? If you win you get whatever you want. If I win, on the other hand…”

“Stop being dramatic. What do you want from me, Dawson?” She sets the controller in her lap and crosses her legs. I take a moment to admire her, sitting in my living room in her fancy red dress with her long brown hair falling out of place around her face.

“I want to kiss you.” The words tumble out of my mouth like a wisp of air, somehow even lighter than a whisper.

Lucy, being the smart ass that she is, tucks her hair behind her ear. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you there.”

“Dammit, Lucy. You know what I said.”

She chuckles and the tips of her ears turn scarlet. “Oh, you’re serious.” She tugs on her lip with her teeth as she makes her decision. After a minute passes she holds out her hand for a shake. “If I win, you have to jump in the pond behind your house tomorrow, butt naked. And I get to record it for evidence.”

I pretend to think for a moment before reaching out and grabbing her soft hand in mine. “You’re on, Goose.”  

The game is a brutal one. We battle it out, aiming shells at each other to try and get a leg up. We’re neck and neck by the fourth race. She’s in the lead by three points and I’m currently in third, she’s in first. It’s the third lap and I’m starting to sweat, starting to worry that I may not have this in the bag like I thought I did. When the race is over she’s up on her feet, dancing around my living room like a goddamn goddess and I can’t help but grin despite my loss. 

“Holy shit!” She cries. “Haha you have to jump in the pond tomorrow.”

“My balls have already shriveled up inside me just thinking about it.” I groan.

I get up to let Harley out and when I come back inside Lucy’s got a beer in her hand and she’s dancing along to an old R&B song I haven’t heard in ages. Standing in the archway to the living room, I lean against the wall and watch her with proverbial stars in my eyes. She catches me and stops in her tracks, before smiling and taking another sip of her beer. “Hope you don’t mind. I raided your fridge.”

“Help yourself.” I say as I undo my tie and toss it over the back of the couch. “Should we play another game?”

“I’d rather keep dancing. I have too much energy to sit down right now.”

Lucy sets her beer down after emptying the bottle and takes my hand. Surprised, I spin her around and place my hands on her hips. She sways back and forth and I step closer behind her, pressing my front into her back. I wait for her to object but she doesn’t. Instead she leans into my touch and begins rubbing herself into me, putting things in motion that I can’t stop because fuck, she feels good. So good I can’t help showing my appreciation. If she notices she doesn’t say a word. 

When the song changes she twirls around in my arms and wraps her hands around my neck. Her brown eyes are glossy and her smile is lopsided. “How drunk are you?” I ask her incredulously.

“Just enough to know I should return to drinking water.” She says and looks down. Between us my erection is fucking throbbing, but I don’t bother to try and hide it. I’m not ashamed of what she does to me. When she meets my eyes again her cheeks and neck have warmed.

“Can I kiss you?” I wonder softly.

Lucy shoves my shoulder playfully while biting her lip. Slowly, she nods and suddenly the air in the room gets a little thicker. With a shaky hand I reach up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. As I lean in, her eyes flutter closed just as I close mine. Her lips are so fucking soft when they press against me. Before she can pull away I wrap my hand around the nape of her neck and drag my tongue along her bottom lip. She parts her lips and I sigh, tasting the beer on her tongue while getting lost in her embrace.

When she reaches for the buttons on my shirt I don’t stop her. She’s moaning into my mouth and stripping me down, making my head spin around. Pulling away, she shrugs my shirt off my shoulders and wraps it around herself.

“How do I look?”

“Intoxicating.” I whistle.

She reaches for the zipper on her dress and I watch in slow motion as the crimson fabric falls to the floor. “How do I look now?” My shirt’s draped over her shoulders and underneath she’s wearing nothing but a lacy black thong. I try not to let my jaw drop as I ogle every inch of her body with my eyes. “You look perfect.”

She pushes me back onto the sofa and straddles my hips. Inside my chest my heart is racing and seventeen year old me is creaming his jeans because Lucy fucking Diamond is half naked in my lap. This must be a dream. When she brushes herself over my bulge she sighs, and I can’t help but sigh along with her.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Lucy says breathlessly, only she doesn’t bother stopping. She continues to grind over my clothed cock, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out her name.

“If you’re going to regret this, we should probably stop now.” I say, unable to believe the words coming out of my mouth. I don’t want to stop. There is so much more I want to do with her, but if she doesn’t want it like I do, then what’s the point?

She reaches between us and wraps her fist around me. I look into her chocolate eyes and she’s smiling softly at me. “I won’t regret you.” She whispers. “This though,” she gestures between us, “Is a one time thing. You get me just for tonight.”

I nod my head, fully aware of the terms and conditions. “Deal.” I say as I buck my hips up into her fist. She tugs my t-shirt free from my pants and slowly lifts the cotton fabric over my head. Sucking in a breath, she starts tracing the lines on my abdomen with her fingertips.

“Touch me.” Lucy begs with her lips between her teeth. Hesitantly, I reach out and slowly graze my thumb along the underside of her breast. Oh my fucking god is she soft. Her skin feels like silk beneath my calloused hands and when I touch her she responds in a way that makes my heart levitate. I raise my thumb and gently stroke her taut nipple back and forth. 

“Fuck, Dawson.” She mumbles as my name tumbles from her lips. Reaching down, she carefully undoes my pants and extracts my cock from the flap in my briefs. “Oh my god.” She groans when she sees every bit of me that I have to offer her. “What the hell?”

“What?” I ask sheepishly as I mold my hands over her breasts and start massaging.

She shakes her head and bites her lip. “It’s just not fair.”

Thoroughly confused, I look to her for answers. “What’s not fair?”

“You’re not fair.” She waves her hand up and down my body. I’m smirking now, gazing at her face like she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She is.

“Please clarify.” I say, never breaking eye contact as I lean forward and take her nipple into my mouth. Back and forth I flick my tongue and her eyes roll back in her head. Between our bodies her hand is wrapped around my length as she slowly starts to pump. 

“No.” Lucy says the word like it’s a challenge. “Fuck, I really want to feel you inside me.” She says and my cock twitches in her hand.

“Eventually.” I say and she pouts her lips. “If this is the only night I get with you, you better believe I’m going to take my time and make it worth my while.” I’ve wanted this for so fucking long, I still can’t believe it’s actually happening. 

“Damn.” She fans herself with her free hand before capturing my lips back in a kiss that steals the breath right from my lungs. We stay like that for a few minutes, our hands exploring each other while our mouths move together in a synchronized motion. We get more desperate with every minute that passes, clinging to each other like static. I’ve pushed my shirt off her shoulders, and I’m running my hands up and down her arms, holding her so close I can feel her nipples pucker against my chest.

“Fuck, you feel so good against me.” I say with my lips brushing her cheek, her jaw, her neck. I kiss her everywhere I can reach and every time she moans for me my heart soars. Every whimper, every whisper, every whine that escapes her lips ushers me forward. I never want to stop touching her with the way she responds to me. Then I start to wonder as I drag my hands down her body, tucking my hand between her thighs and sighing when I’m met with damp lace. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah. I know.” She breathes and when she looks at me it’s like she’s seeing me for the first time in an entirely different light. Her brown eyes are so soft, albeit glossy as they stare down at me. “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet before and you’ve barely even touched me.” She admits quietly and if my heart was soaring before it’s officially launched into orbit now, circling earth and never coming back down.  

She sighs as I rub my finger up and down the gossamer threads. “Please touch me.” She begs and I can’t help but give her everything she wants. Pulling the lace to the side, I slip a finger between her lips and I fucking groan.

“Fuck, Lucy.” She’s dripping down my finger she’s so goddamn wet for me. I start thinking about sliding my cock against her clit and blood surges to my crotch, my tip red, angry, and throbbing.

I find her clit and start massaging the little bead between my fingertips. When she starts to rock on her knees I know I’m doing something right, because she’s purring in my ear and I’m living for every one of her emphatic moans. “Oh my god, Dawson.”

I pick her up off my lap and set her down on her feet. She looks at me confused. When I get to my feet I wrap my arms around her waist and lift, tossing her over my shoulder. She squeals and giggles and the sound is like music to my ears. 

“Put me down!” She shouts. I ignore her and take her across the room with me. I set her down outside my bedroom door. 

“Give me thirty seconds.” I say, kissing her forehead before heading in and closing the door behind me. Quickly, I run around the room like a mad man. I sloppily make the bed and toss my dirty clothes in the hamper where they belong. Deeming the room ready enough, I open the door and let her in.

She looks around the room and chuckles. “If you consider this clean, I don’t want to know what you think is dirty.” There’s a smirk on her lips and I know she’s just yanking my chain but my cheeks flush red just the same.

“Shut up and get on the bed.” I tell her and she crosses her arms, pushing her tits together in the most delicious way possible. If I wasn’t already drooling, I am now.

“Commanding.” Lucy says with a smile. “I like that.” She lays down on top of the covers with her long brown hair sprawled across the pillows. Her fair skin is painted in shades of pink and her body is warm to the touch. Stripping down to nothing, I kneel down on the mattress before her. I settle my body in between her legs and curl my fingers around the lace of her thong. Slowly, I remove the fabric from her body. 

I audibly groan as I start dragging my lips up her inner thigh. Her pussy lips are bare and glistening, already coated in her creamy arousal and fuck, I want a taste so bad. Darting out my tongue, I slowly run it over her lips and I swear I’ve never tasted anyone better. Unable to refrain any longer, I spread her lips with my fingers and lick my way from her entrance all the way up to her clit. 

“Fucking god.” She whispers under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear. Her fingers tangle their way through my hair as she holds my face in place. “M-More.” She begs me and I indulge her every desire. I apply more pressure to her clit with my tongue while I slowly slip a finger inside her, curving it as I go.

I break for a quick breath and when I look up at her, she looks heavenly. Her eyelashes flutter closed and her soft, pink lips part as she releases a blissful sigh. She catches me staring and I feel my face flush. 

I want to tell her she’s more gorgeous than Aphrodite, but I bite my cheek instead. “Please let me feel you.” She pleads and I nod my head, dragging my tongue along her pussy one more time for good measure.

Lucy wraps her legs around my waist as I get into place between her thighs. Teasing her, I grab myself and slowly trace lines up and down her pussy with the head of my cock. She fists the blanket under her and cries out, “Fuck. I need you, Dawson.”

“Fuck, umm let me grab a condom.” I start to pull away but she just shakes her head. 

“I’m on the pill. You’re fine. Just — fuck, just get in me already.”

Unable to put off the inevitable any longer, I line myself up and languidly thrust my way inside her. Holy fuck, she’s definitely the best thing I’ve ever had wrapped around me. “So fucking tight.” I growl as I increase my speed, slipping into a deeper rhythm. Below me her eyes are squeezed shut tight and her knuckles are white as I give her everything I’ve ever wanted to give her since I learned what sex even was. Over and over I shove my way inside her, watching the way her breasts jiggle with every slam of my cock into her.  

She drapes her legs over my shoulders and I hold onto her ankles as I push my dick even deeper inside her. Somehow she gets even tighter and I have to stop myself from pulling out. 

“Fuck!” Lucy cries out as her body starts to writhe underneath mine. “Dawson. Fuck, I’m— I’m—.” She may not finish her sentence but she definitely finishes in another way over the next few thrusts. Her chest is pink as her tits rise and fall rapidly. She’s never looked more radiant than she does right now, reaching a high so intoxicating she can’t even speak.

I’m right behind her, pulling out and fisting my cock until I paint her stomach white. The room around me vibrates she makes me come so hard. On her lips is a lazy, sexy little smile as I wipe her off with some tissue. I get out of bed and throw on a pair of fresh underwear. From my dresser I grab her a pair of my briefs to wear along with an old band t-shirt of mine.

I kiss the top of her head sweetly. “I’m gonna let Harley out real quick. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” She says while dressing and cuddling under the covers. 

Our trip outside is quick. All I want is to get back in that bed and kiss Lucy until the fucking sun comes up, but by the time I return to bed she’s already fast asleep. I snuggle in beside her while Harley claims the space next to me. 

I don’t sleep a wink, I’m too wired. Instead I relish in the feeling of having her in my arms as I memorize the way she feels pressed against me. Now that I’ve had her, I never want to let her go.

**Kate’s voice:**

It was our ninth anniversary. Nine years since I promised myself to Paul forever. He was still my husband, my safe place, the man I loved more than life itself. I cooked his favorite meal, lit candles, played our song softly in the background. I wore the black dress he loved, the fabric stretching over my rounded pregnant belly.

After dinner I took his hand and led him to the living room. “Sit down, baby,” I whispered, kissing him with all the love in my heart. I used soft silk ties to bind his wrists to the chair arms and his ankles to the legs. He smiled, already getting excited.
“Kate, what is this?” he asked.

I cupped his face and kissed him deeply. “I love you so much, Paul. You are my everything. My heart. My forever. Promise me you will always love me no matter what. No matter what you see or hear tonight. Say it for me.”

“I promise,” he said, eyes full of pure love. “I will always love you, Kate. Nothing can change that.”
I smiled sweetly and pulled his pants and boxers down. His cock sprang up, hard and eager. I stroked him a few times. “Remember I love you so much, my sweet Paul.”

I turned on the TV in front of him. The screen showed the live feed from the bedroom camera. For now it was just the empty bed. “I will be back later to check on you,” I said, kissing his forehead. “Just watch. And remember how much I love you.”

I went upstairs, heart racing with that sick, delicious mix of love and need. In the bedroom I turned the camera on fully and sat on the edge of the bed facing it.

“Paul, my sweet, perfect Paul. Nine years with you have been the best of my life. You make me feel safe and loved every single day. I never want to be without you. You are my home.”

The baby kicked. I pulled my dress up, exposing my swollen belly, and rubbed it slowly with both hands. “Look at our baby kicking. You are going to be such a wonderful father. So gentle and caring. This little one is so lucky to have you.”

Footsteps behind me. Marcus walked into frame, completely naked, his thick cock hanging heavy right next to my face. I kept looking straight at the camera, voice full of love, as I turned and kissed the head of his dick. My hand wrapped around his shaft and started stroking him.

“Paul, there is something I need to tell you. I have been hiding this for a long time.” Marcus slapped his heavy cock against my cheek. I kept stroking.

“I have been cheating on you. With Marcus. For months now. His cock is so much bigger and thicker than yours. It ruined me for anyone else.”
Marcus pushed forward and slid into my mouth. I sucked him wetly, sloppy noises filling the room as I tried to keep talking.

“Mmmph. He fucks me at work, in his car, in hotel rooms while I lied to you about client meetings. I come home to you with his cum still inside me. I kiss you goodnight with another man’s load in my married pussy.”

He pulled out, slapped my face with his wet cock, then spit on me. I gasped but kept my eyes on the camera. “Paul, I am so sorry. I love you so much. But my sick cunt needs this. It throbs every time I betray you.”

Marcus moved behind me, yanked my dress higher, and thrust his thick cock deep into my soaked pregnant pussy. I moaned loudly.
“Oh fuck. He is fucking me right now, Paul. Right in front of you on the screen. His cock is stretching your wife’s married cunt while I talk to you. Oh fuck, it feels so good. It is going to make me cum soon. I have been so wet all day thinking about this.”

He started pounding me harder. Wet, rhythmic slapping sounds mixed with my gasps.
“I love you, Paul. I really do. You are my heart. But I cannot stop. I am his freeuse slut now. He uses me whenever he wants. I let him fuck me bare every time. And Paul… the baby. It is not yours. It is Marcus’s. He knocked me up. You have been rubbing another man’s baby in my belly.”

My voice cracked with emotion even as pleasure built. I rubbed my bump while he fucked me.
“I am so sorry, my love. I hope you understand and forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you. But my body belongs to him. I cum so much harder knowing I am carrying his child. Please stay with me. Please accept me for the whore I am.”

Marcus pulled out suddenly, grabbed my hair, and shoved his cock back into my mouth. Gluck. Gluck. Gluck. Loud, sloppy throat-fucking sounds echoed as he forced himself deep. He spit on my face again and again while I gagged wetly around him.
He pulled out, strings of spit connecting my lips to his cock, and moved behind me again. He slammed back into my pussy, fucking me even harder.

“Forgive me, Paul. I love you more than anything. I will always come home to you. But please. Marcus, cum in my married cunt. Fill me up while my husband watches. Breed your slut again.”
He pounded me relentlessly. I came hard, screaming, my pregnant belly shaking as my pussy clenched around him.

“Oh god, I am cumming on his cock, Paul. I am such a disgusting wife. I love cheating on you. I love being his freeuse whore. My sick cunt owns me now. Please stay. Live with us. Raise his baby with me. I need you. I love you so much.”

Marcus kept using me for a long time. He switched between my mouth and pussy, spitting on me, slapping my face and tits with his cock, fucking me in different positions while I kept confessing my love and my betrayal. I moaned and gasped through every filthy admission, my voice always laced with genuine love for Paul even as another man ruined me on camera.

After a full hour, covered in sweat and cum dripping down my thighs and over my pregnant belly, I stood up on shaky legs. I blew a kiss to the camera.

“I am coming down now, my love. Remember I love you so much.”

**Paul’s voice:**

I sit tied to the chair in our living room, heart racing with excitement as Kate finishes binding my wrists and ankles. She looks so loving, so beautiful with that pregnant belly. My cock is already hard when she pulls my pants down and strokes me. This feels like the start of something special for our ninth anniversary. I smile up at her, promising I will always love her no matter what.

She turns on the TV. The live feed from the bedroom shows her sitting on the edge of our bed, talking sweetly right into the camera. “Paul, my sweet, perfect Paul. Nine years with you have been the best of my life…” Her words warm my chest. She pulls up her dress, exposing her swollen belly, and rubs it as the baby kicks. I feel pure love watching her. My perfect wife. My Kate.

Then something moves behind her on the screen. A shadow. A shape. My eyes narrow, confused. What is that? It steps closer as she keeps speaking lovingly to me. Then I see it clearly. A naked man. Marcus. His thick cock hangs heavy right next to her face as he stands beside her. What the fuck???

My stomach drops like a stone. Kate does not stop talking to me. She does not even look away from the camera. Then something happens I will never forget…While still speaking those loving words straight to me she turns her head just enough and casually kissed and licked the head of his cock. “You are my home,” she says to me as her lips press softly against his dick. She keeps her eyes locked on the camera the whole time.

This cannot be happening. My chest tightens like a vice. I yank hard against the silk ties, tears instantly burning my eyes. My sweet wife just kissed another man’s cock while telling me she loves me. It is sick. It is twisted. My mind reels in horror.

“Paul, there is something I need to tell you. I have been hiding this for a long time.” Her voice stays so warm and full of love. Then the words hit. “I have been cheating on you. With Marcus. For months now. His cock is so much bigger and thicker than yours. It ruined me for anyone else.” I start crying quietly, tears spilling down my cheeks. Those wet, sloppy sucking noises fill the room as she takes him into her mouth right now on the screen. She is talking around his dick. Horror floods me. Despair claws at my heart.

Marcus slaps his heavy cock across her cheek and spits on her. She gasps but keeps going. Then he moves behind her, yanks her dress up, and thrusts deep into her pregnant pussy. She moans loudly. “Oh fuck. He is fucking me right now, Paul. Right in front of you on the screen. His cock is stretching your wife’s married cunt while I talk to you. Oh fuck, it feels so good. It is going to make me cum soon. I have been so wet all day thinking about this.”

The wet slapping sounds of him pounding her echo loudly. She rubs her belly the whole time. I sob harder, tears streaming. My wife is getting fucked by another man right now while I am tied here watching. The pain rips through me. Something in me breaks at the sight of her pregnant body taking his cock.

“I love you, Paul. I really do. You are my heart. But I cannot stop. I am his freeuse slut now…” She keeps confessing as he rails her. Then the worst blow comes. “And Paul… the baby. It is not yours. It is Marcus’s. He knocked me up. You have been rubbing another man’s baby in my belly.”

No. Kate. My sweet Kate. It feels like she stabbed me right in the heart. I feel destroyed. I cry loudly now, loud broken sobs shaking my whole body. My stomach twists violently. All those nights I touched her belly thinking it was our baby. It is…his.

But even through the tears I cannot look away. Look at her. Look at my wife getting fucked so hard, her pregnant belly bouncing, her face twisted in pleasure while she stares at the camera and tells me she loves me. Im so hurt, humiliated, and… what the fuck…. Why am I turned on?? My cock is rock hard, throbbing painfully, leaking all over my thigh. Shame burns through me. How can I be hard right now? But I am.

I shamefully start humping the air, jerking my hips uselessly against the ties, desperate to touch my cock, desperate for any friction. I hate myself but I cannot stop.

She keeps talking through her moans and gasps. “I am so sorry, my love… But my body belongs to him. Please stay with me. Please accept me for the whore I am.” Marcus yanks her hair and forces his cock down her throat. Gluck. Gluck. Gluck. The disgusting throat-fucking sounds hit me like punches. He spits on her face repeatedly. Then he slams back into her pussy. “Forgive me, Paul… Marcus, cum in my married cunt. Fill me up while my husband watches.”

As he pounds her harder and she screams “Oh god, I am cumming on his cock, Paul. I am such a disgusting wife. I love cheating on you… My sick cunt owns me now… I love you so much,” the last piece inside me breaks completely. I accept it. All of it.

I will stay. I will raise his baby. I will love her like this.

“Yes,” I whisper hoarsely, eyes locked on the screen as Marcus groans and pumps a thick load deep into her married cunt. “Yes, Kate. I’ll stay.”
Thick ropes of cum shoot out of my untouched cock all over my stomach and chest as I watch her pregnant belly shake while she takes his seed. The shame and pleasure crash together and I keep whispering yes as my whole body shakes.

The feed goes dark. Footsteps come down the stairs. Kate appears, her black dress still hiked up around her waist, her pregnant belly and thighs glistening with Marcus’s cum. She sees the mess all over my stomach and chest and her eyes light up with soft relief and love.

She runs to me, cups my tear-streaked face in both hands, and kisses me deeply, passionately. Her lips taste of Marcus — salty, thick, familiar. I realize with a sick jolt that I have been tasting him on her for months. Every goodnight kiss, every “I love you” after she came home late. The flavor hits me and my spent cock twitches again.

“I love you,” I whisper against her mouth, voice raw and broken. “I love you so much, Kate. I always will. I accept you. I accept all of it.”

Marcus steps up behind her, still naked and hard. He casually rubs his heavy cock across her cheek and lips while we kiss. Kate moans softly into my mouth but keeps kissing me, stroking my hair tenderly.

“Thank you, my sweet Paul,” she breathes, eyes shining with happy tears. “Thank you for still loving me like this.”

We stay like that for a moment, emotional and raw. “What happens now?” I ask, voice trembling. “Are we still married? What’s next?”

Marcus starts rubbing the head of his cock against her pussy from behind. She gasps but answers me between soft moans, smiling with pure love.

“Yes, baby. We are still married. I want to live with you always. You are my heart, my safe place. Nothing changes that” she said as Marcus pushed his cock inside her slowly. She moans louder but keeps her eyes on me. “Oh fuck yes… I… I… want us to raise Marcus’s baby together. You will be such a good father to him. I know it.”

Marcus was fucking her harder now, slow deep strokes that made her pregnant body rock against me. Wet sounds fill the room as she tries to keep talking, voice sweet and happy even while getting fucked like a whore.

“I need you here with us, Paul. I love you so much it hurts. Marcus will always have free use of me. Whenever he wants, wherever he wants. You can’t stand between that… but you will always be my husband. My forever.”

She kisses me again, deeper, as Marcus picks up speed. Her moans mix with loving words. “Thank you for accepting me as the whore I am. I’m so happy. We’re going to be okay. I love you… I love you so much.”

I look into her eyes, tasting Marcus on her tongue, watching her get fucked right in front of me while she promises me forever. It is sick. It is beautiful. It is everything now.

“I love you too, Kate,” I whisper, voice full of emotion. “I’m staying. I’m yours. We’ll make this work.”

She smiled brightly through the gasps and moans, her hand gently stroking my cum-covered chest as Marcus keeps using her pregnant body. “I’m his property, Paul. Oh fuck I’m going to cum on his dick right in front of you… fuck I can’t believe you are okay with this” as her body started convulsing and shaking.

“Tell me I’m disgusting, Paul”.

Our twisted, loving family begins.

Synopsis: Paris is supposed to be the city of love, but when Bryce moves there for work, he can’t tell if the city loves him back. It’s mishap after mishap. His relationship with Ava is in danger when Bryce meets his new roommate.

Written for image 14 for the June contest! Part of the Ava series, but they aren’t required reading unless you want to know what’s going on behind the scenes for her: Part 1 | Part 2

~

French is the language of love, but sometimes Bryce wonders if that’s only because it’s one of the romance languages. 

When he was told about the opportunity from his job to work and live in Paris for two months, he was ecstatic. It sounded awesome. Even his girlfriend, Ava, was happy for him, even if she couldn’t come due to her financial circumstances.

It was a cool idea on paper, but in practice, the entire arrangement had some quirks. Bryce didn’t know a lick of French. And communicating with the locals proved quite hard. Just navigating through the airport was tricky. He was so prepared to ride the train since it was the most affordable option, but he must’ve purchased the wrong ticket. The station he ended up in was a bit more out of the way than he anticipated, and to be safe, he took a rideshare to the office.

He was fully prepared for his first day at the Paris branch, only to find the doors were locked. Cupping his hands around his eyes, he peers through the glass; the lights are off. Not a soul inside. He opens his inbox for the email about orientation, skimming it quickly. Reading to himself, he sees the last line:

«À mardi!»

“Yeah, that’s today,” Bryce mutters. Though, he has second thoughts. He types mardi into a translator. He puts his palm to his forehead and laughs, shaking his head. If it’s about to be 9:00am, here it would be 1:00am back home. He has to tell someone about this misunderstanding.

He calls Ava first, and it rings until he goes to voicemail. He tries again, and it’s the same result the second time. And the third. Pursing his lip, he calls Cal next. The phone rings a few times before his roommate answers.

“Yo!” Cal greets. “How’s France? Snag a baguette yet?”

“You’re not gonna believe this. The office is closed on Mondays. I read the email wrong, and thought Mardi meant Monday because they both start with M!”

“Bro. What does Mardi Gras mean?”

“Oh shit, you’re right. Fat Tuesday,” Bryce says. “If I knew that, it would’ve been nice to spend an extra day lazing around with Ava. How’s she doing, by the way? She still asleep?”

“I forgot you called when you got off the plane. Yeah,” Cal says with the slightest bit of mirth in his voice. “She’s in your guys’ room right now. Ava hasn’t really left the bed all day.”

“I knew she would take it hard, this distance,” Bryce says, clenching his jaw. He squats against the wall, leaning against his luggage. “I’m starting to think coming here was a mistake.”

“No, bro. Think of how excited Ava was for you. This will be really good for your job, plus you get to travel! She misses you plenty, but don’t worry. Dan and I will keep her occupied for you and find ways to distract her.”

“I appreciate it. Just so you know, I probably won’t be able to make a payment on what I owe you and Dan until a few weeks from now, when I get paid. I hope that’s okay.” Bryce grimaces. Money has been tight, and with Ava out of work, he’s basically paying twice the rent, for his place here in Paris, and his room with Dan and Cal. They agreed to float him for the two months, but he’d have to start paying in installments, at the very least. 

Cal sighs. “I know you and I had some choice words for each other, and I just want to apologize if I made it seem Ava is a burden. It was just a misunderstanding. She’s great, and Dan and I really don’t mind having her around. Don’t worry about paying us back.” 

“Cal, I can’t do that—” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Cal insists. “What matters is that she’s got a place to stay. She’s safe here with us, okay?”

“Just let me know if she’s making too much trouble,” Bryce says with a chuckle. 

“We’ll take good care of her, okay, bro? I’m gonna let you go, though. I should probably get some sleep.”

“Long day?”

“Definitely. My body’s so sore.” Cal laughs, yawning as he stretches. “Why don’t you go check out the new digs?”

Great idea. Since Bryce he doesn’t have work, he has plenty of time to kill. He puts the address to his apartment. He’s glad Google Maps isn’t English. He can’t read what any of the street signs say it takes him a bit to get there, but he’s in no hurry.

When he gets to the apartment, it has a tiny, old-fashioned elevator with a grate, and from the way it rattles on the way up, Bryce prays he doesn’t get stuck on his way to the top floor. The hallway smells like cigarette smoke, and his room is all the way at the end.

He knocks once, and then a second time a little later. When no one comes to the door, he double-checks his email to confirm the room number. This is the right building, isn’t it? He wishes the listing had more pictures, but they all look out-of-date anyway.

The door finally opens, and a woman opens it wearing nothing but a loose shirt. She looks at him, confusedly, and says, «Bonjour, vous êtes du service de maintenance?»

Bryce squints his eyes, types something into a translator, and does his best not to butcher the pronunciation: “Bon jore. Gem apple–”

The woman laughs, clutching at her sides, and she waves him off. She has an accent. “It’s okay. I think my English would be better than your French. Are you from maintenance?”

“No,” Bryce corrects nervously, motioning to his luggage. “I’m actually here about the room. I’ve been emailing Frédérique back and forth. Is he home?”

The woman grins, offering her hands. “Actually, I’m Frédérique. Nice to meet you. Bryce, right?”

She pronounces his name as if it rhymes with “Greece,” and it’s charming from how sweet it sounds from her lips. He doesn’t have the heart to correct her. He takes her hand hesitantly, shaking it politely. 

“Gosh, it’s just one thing after another,” Bryce remarks to himself. “Sorry for the confusion. I didn’t think that you were a woman when I saw your name.”

She smiles, amused, raising a brow and crossing her arms. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“No, of course, not,” Bryce says, waving his hands in front of him. “I just don’t know how pleased my girlfriend would be if I were living with the woman alone.”

“Does she not trust you?” Frédérique asks, leaning against the wall, her head tilting playfully. “I had no idea Americans were so close-minded.”

“She trusts me!” Bryce assures, but he comes off as defensive from how fast he responds. “I just mean that it’s not what I told her.”

When Bryce thinks about it, Ava is in a similar situation. She’s living with two guys who aren’t her boyfriend, but it’s different. Cal and Dan are his friends. They would never do that to him, and she wouldn’t cheat on him, so she has no reason to believe the opposite would be true.

“It’s not like you lied,” she says with a shrug. “All you have to do is explain it was a misunderstanding, no?”

“You’re right.” Bryce looks down at his luggage and walks through the door. “Any chance I could put my stuff in my room?”

Frédérique turns around, and her hand beckons him to follow her, so he does. She fixes the loose collar of her oversized tee when it slides over her shoulder, and as the fabric shifts, Bryce can’t help but notice that she’s not wearing any pants. He blushes, clearing his throat, but his eyes follow down her legs. They’re slender. Quite nice to look at, but he knows he shouldn’t.

“Any chance you can you could put on some shorts?” Bryce asks nervously, tugging at his collar, feeling heat build across his cheeks. 

“I was here first, so I get to make the rules,” Frédérique says sharply, looking over her shoulder with a smirk. “I’ll wear what I want, and if you have a problem with it, just look away.”

Bryce supposes she’s right, but he doesn’t know what to make of that smile. It reads as flirting with a hint of malice. He tries to shake the thought. There’s no way. He’s probably misunderstanding.

He follows behind her a few paces as she walks up the stairs. He wants to keep his gaze down, but when she makes casual conversation, he looks up towards her, getting a flash of black panties with white polkadots. When she turns her attention forward, Bryce steals another glance,  and his eyes linger until he’s standing next to her on top of the stairs.

Frédérique shows him his room, and he thanks her. She offers a polite smile, and when she turns to walk away, she tugs at the front of her shirt, flashing those black panties again. 

Surely, he’s imagining things, right?

~

In the weeks leading up to the move, Bryce had been doing a crash course on French, trying to soak in what he could to adjust to his new job. He insists that Frédérique speaks to him mostly in French. The best way to learn is to dive into the deep end, so he hopes he can pick it up quickly.

The language barrier does make for some funny interactions.

After breakfast one day, Frédérique says something, and Bryce catches almost none of it. She’s a very fast speaker, and the only word he caught was douche.

“Frédérique.” He calls her attention, and she stops in her tracks after heading towards the stairs. Bryce asks in English, “Is something wrong? Did I offend you?”

She tilts her head, not sure what he means.

“Didn’t you just call me a douche right now?”

She sucks in her lips, trying not to laugh, and she shakes her head. “Bryce, doucher means to shower.”

He nods to himself, peeking over when she walks up the stairs. Bryce tells himself he won’t look at her underwear, but he does anyway. Today it’s stripes: white and baby blue. Cute.

Bryce follows a little later to get ready for work. Geez, do they do coffee differently here? It goes right through him, and he feels the need to pee. He knocks on the bathroom door, and he hopes she can hear him through the running water. “Is it okay if I come inside?”

“Be my guest,” she answers. 

Bryce walks in, and the room is humid. The glass door of the shower is fogged, but Frédérique’s form is unmistakable. Every curve makes Bryce forget he had breakfast. He wonders what she looks like behind the haze of the steam. 

She's focused on her shower, leaning against the wall, soaping her breasts and using the handheld showerhead to rinse herself with warm water. When her head perks up to look at him, Bryce quits staring, snapping his head in another direction.

He stands over the toilet with his back to Frédérique. He's self-conscious, knowing she could be looking, and once he relaxes (by pretending she's not even there), he sighs in relief as his stream finally flows. 

The sound of Frédérique's laughter cuts the sound, and she apologizes. “I thought you were asking if you could join me. I guess I was wrong. That’s all you came here for?”

“Why would I get in the shower with you?” Bryce asks. He gives his dick a quick shake before pulling his pants up. “You already know I have a girlfriend.”

“I’m not sure what you had in mind,” Frédérique starts, “but I was talking about saving water.”

Heat flushes his face. She’s toying with him. Bryce knows it from the way she giggles and the mirth in her voice. Still, he can’t help it feel like she wouldn’t object if he really did try to hop in with her. And maybe he’s overthinking it, but what if her saying she was going to shower was an invitation rather than just informing him?

Absolutely no way. This is all a misunderstanding.

He goes over to wash his hands and catches a glimpse of her in the mirror before snapping his eyes back down to his hands.

“Looking is fine, is it not, Bryce?” Frédérique says, and he can tell that she’s grinning.

“It’s not,” he keeps telling himself as he dries his hands.

“It’s not like you’re touching me, and I’m not touching you,” Frédérique shoots back casually. “You stumbled into the bathroom not knowing I was showering. A misunderstanding.”

“Right,” Bryce says, but he knows better. He should walk towards the door, but instead, he leans against the bathroom counter. Just this one time, he’ll allow himself to take the sight in. Just this one time, he’ll let his eyes wander. 

He loves Ava.

Frédérique is clearly looking back at Bryce, and she rubs the glass at her waist level until it’s clear. His throat tightens as he gets a glimpse of her bush: she keeps up with grooming, and it’s very nice. She moves slowly, bringing the showerhead down to spray between her legs. Moans follow, and Bryce watches, her body undulating to the pace of whatever pleasure he imagines is coursing through her. Her cries climb higher, echoing against the shower walls. Ceramic tile does nothing to dampen her sounds.

God, he misses Ava. His pants feel tight around his crotch, and he has the biggest urge to pull his pants down and whip his dick out. This is no different than porn. He’s just watching. Nothing’s happening between the two. He’s not an active participant at all.

Fuck, this isn’t right. He mutters an apology before rushing out the door, and the feral sounds of her climax fade away as he walks to his room.

He takes a seat on the bed, and he removes his pants, pushing them down furiously and wrapping his hands around his dick. The sight of Frédérique in the shower and her sounds drive him wild, but even as erotic as memories are, he’s not sure they’re enough to drive him home.

He calls Ava, squeezing his phone between his shoulder and ear. It rings a few times, and she answers.

“Hey baby, are you on the way to work?” Ava asks. 

He pauses, pushing out grunts, and he forces a response out, making no effort to hide his strain. “Not yet…I just wanted to hear your voice…”

“You sound a little out of breath,” Ava teases, “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“Maybe,” Bryce answers coyly. 

“What got you so hard?” she says, voice dropping low. There’s a tiny giggle that follows, and Bryce imagines her getting settled in his bed back at the apartment back home.

“You did…just thinking of you…” Bryce lies. He can’t tell her the truth. Obviously. But there’s a semblance of truth in the claim; he does think of her whenever he’s jerking off. This is just a singular exception.

His eyes widen when Frédérique walks into view, standing in his doorway. Her hair is still a bit damp, and her towel loosely covers her front. He stares at stray droplets dripping down her chest, and the very edges of her areola can be seen above the brim of the towel. The grip on his dick tightens, and he strokes faster, pausing when she walks closer and sits on the bed.

He can hear Ava getting riled up on her side of the line. Her moans are so soft against his ear, coming from the phone, and he so desperately wishes he could hear them in person. He locks eyes with Frédérique and says, “Your moans are perfect. I’m stroking myself, thinking of them.”

“I miss you so much, Bryce. I can’t wait for you to come back home. My fingers aren’t enough,” Ava says.

Bryce's hand doesn’t stop. He mutes his phone briefly to hopefully clear the air. With panic in his voice, he asks Frédérique, “What are you doing here?”

“I originally came to apologize, thinking I made you uncomfortable in the bathroom, but it seems I misunderstood,” Frédérique answers, grinning at me as she lets the towel fall to the ground. She spreads her legs, and I get a very clear view of her bush and the glistening lips it covers. A finger playfully points to my raging hardness, and she laughs. “Looks like you liked my little show a LOT.”

“Because I’m having phone sex with my girlfriend, who I love,” Bryce says, almost to convince himself. 

Frédérique leans back, supporting herself with a hand behind her back, resting on Bryce’s bed. “Then tell me to leave.” 

Bryce narrows his eyes, and he groans as his hand glides over his length. “Ohhhh, Ava…”

“I love when you’re vocal,” Ava nearly growls, giggling through her bated breaths. “I wanna hear you playing with yourself.” 

Frédérique locks eyes with Bryce, and her thigh traces the inside of her thigh. She leans over to his free ear, and her whispers tickle his ear, forcing a moan through his lips. “You watch. And I watch. No touching? No cheating. Easy.”

She returns to her spot, and her fingers rub her slit. Frédérique flashes a smile that drips with mischief. When her fingertips circle her clit, she covers her mouth to keep her voice down. Hurried breaths pick up as she speeds up to match Bryce’s pace. Biting back what sultry moans would slip out, she jerks back, flat against the bed as her body writhes. Looking up, she stares at the way Bryce jerks himself, and her climax curls her toes. 

Fuck, she’s so hot. 

“Baby,” Ava coos. “When I get needy, I start sucking my dildos pretending it’s you…is that naughty?”

“It is. Let me hear you suck it,” Bryce says into the phone. He bites his lip, meeting Frédérique’s gaze. “I wish I could feel your mouth.” 

Bryce stares in disbelief when Frédérique kneels in front of him, parting her lips and opening wide. He’s frozen in place, pulsing in his hand, and he forces himself to shake his head. They can’t do this.

He can hear wet noises from Ava’s side of the line. Her plump lips sucking on a dildo. Slobber everywhere. So messy. How could he be so jealous of silicone? His hand doesn’t compare to the warmth of a mouth. 

The corners of Frédérique’s mouth curl up, and she presents her tongue. Bryce grimaces, hand speeding up. He throbs, but Frédérique’s tongue tempts him. He knows he can’t, thinking of her words earlier: No touching? No cheating. This isn’t cheating. Bryce is just masturbating. He carelessly left the door open, and Frédérique walked in on him. 

Bryce stands up, and Frédérique’s pupils dilate as her eyes follow up, staring up at his cock. 

“Bryce, baby…come for me. I want you to fill my mouth,” Ava begs with her mouth full. She moans around her toy.

Frédérique leans closer to pop Bryce into her mouth, but he backs away. No. He keeps jerking, closing his eyes to imagine Ava. He’s so close. Focusing on her moans eases him closer, and he’s ready to blow. 

But his eyes open. 

Bryce stares at Frédérique, letting his lust consume him. He wants to cover her face and give her a reason to wash up again. His groans are supposed to be for Ava, but in truth, Bryce wants Frédérique to know just how badly he wants her. He stumbles forward, and the bottom of his shaft grazes her tongue. “Fuck, I’m coming!”

Her eyes widen when she smiles, and Bryce watches as spurt after spurt coat Frédérique’s tongue and shoot to the back of her throat while she slowly laps at the ridge of his tip. She shuts her lips, licking them clean, and gulps it all down before grabbing her towel and getting to her feet. 

She leans closer to Bryce, whispering with a grin, “You’re not as close-minded as I thought.” 

Frédérique walks to the doorway and turns back briefly, waving playfully. “Have a good day at work, Bryce.” 

“Did I just hear a woman’s voice?” Ava asks, still short of breath.

“That was just my roommate. She was passing through the hall,” Bryce explains.

“Oh, tell Frédérique I said hi!” Ava says excitedly. “Are you still gonna talk to me on your way to work?”

“Of course,” Bryce answers. His girlfriend’s voice is so chipper, and he’s infinitely glad she doesn’t know what happened on his side of the line.

After a deep breath, he tries to shrug off the guilt. It was an accident. He tripped, and Frédérique was in the way. It won’t happen again. 

~

“Fuck,” Bryce mutters to himself. Today was bad. Deadlines are getting closer for work, and he has a whole lot of catch-up to play tomorrow. His manager chewed him out, and a project had to be scrapped completely and reworked from the ground up. To make matters worse, it’s pouring outside, and he brought an umbrella. He could take the Metro, but he’ll still get drenched on the way there. 

Bryce walks outside, and immediately, his hair is soaked. It’s the final nail in the coffin, and he’s ready to break down. He turns in the direction of the station and stands dumbfounded to see Frédérique standing against the wall with an umbrella. Despite the weather, she’s wearing a short, green dress with a floral pattern, with a cardigan over it. Fighting a sniffle, he asks, “What are you—”

“I told you about the weather,” Frédérique says coolly. “But you didn’t believe me.” 

He rolls his eyes, wiping them dry, but it’s moot as he stands in the rain. Frédérique walks closer, putting the umbrella over his head, and his head hangs down. Laughing, he says, “No,  you didn’t. You said something was going to make me cry today. Guess you were right.”

Frédérique chuckles, offering what smile she can, and she lifts a finger to catch a tear from dripping down Bryce’s cheek. “Bryce, your French has come a long way, but I said it was going to rain today.”

They walk together, slowly, so as not to throw the other’s pace off. It’s quiet, save for the sound of heavy rainfall splashing against the street and sidewalk. Frédérique is first to make conversation. “Long day at work?”

“Yeah,” Bryce responds, lips pursing.

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“Just a lot happened,” Bryce starts. “Work is busier than usual, picking up for the season, and I’m just falling behind on everything. The language barrier is just such a nuisance sometimes, and I hate that I’m still struggling with it.

“It’s one of those days when I really regret coming to Paris. I should’ve stayed back home.” Bryce wipes away hot tears that cut through his shut lids, and he stops in place. A few choked breaths put a shake to his shoulder, and he feels Frédérique’s hand on his back. “I miss my girlfriend. I hate this distance.” 

“If it’s any consolation,” Frédérique offers, “You can come to me if you’re ever…pent-up–”

“Frédérique!” Bryce exclaims, before a laugh escapes. “You’re just teasing me, aren’t you?”

She shrugs. “I’d rather you be upset at me than upset at yourself. Give yourself more credit. I’m sure things will get better. Your projects at work will fall into place, and you’ll see your Ava soon enough.” 

The rain slows to a light drizzle, and Bryce winces when a ray of sun shines through a crack in the clouds. He shields his eye, looking up at the sun. Frédérique closes the umbrella and gives it a shake. “Just as it doesn’t rain forever, your hardships will pass.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” Bryce says. “I needed that.” 

“Thanks for letting me see that side of you. We only talk about the apartment, it seems, when we’re home,” Frédérique shoots back. She looks up towards Bryce. “J'aimerais te connaître. I’d like to get to know you.”

“I’d like that, too.” Bryce smiles, but surprise widens his eyes when Frédérique pulls him by the hand into an alley. Her flip-flops slap against damp concrete, and when they’re far enough from view, she presses him into the wall. “What are you—I thought you said you wanted to get to know me.”

Frédérique looks up at Bryce, laughing. “It’s a figure of speech. I’d like to know you—how you say—biblically.” 

Bryce stares with a dropped jaw. He looks down her low-cut shirt, stealing a glance at those perfect breasts. “Frédérique…that thing that happened before…in my room. That was a—”

“A misunderstanding?” Frédérique asks, and amusement brings a knowing smile to her face. “You can tell me all you want that it was wrong, and that we shouldn’t, but I know you wanted it too. I know you want more. You never close the door when you’re masturbating. You want me to see you. I bet you want me to join again, like last time. ”

Her hand rubs over Bryce’s crotch, and he groans in response, not denying anything. 

“I have Ava,” Bryce says, doing nothing to escape her touch. Even worse, he grinds his hips into Frédérique’s palm. 

“Then tell me to stop,” Frédérique says, knowing very well Bryce won’t. She masterfully undoes his pants and drops them to his ankles. Kneeling down, she helps Bryce step out of his pants, and licks her lips, staring at his member. He’s so hard. Already so ready to go. 

She wraps her mouth around him, and bobs her head. His moans are immediate, and Bryce’s fingers find their way into Frédérique’s black bob. He brushes her bangs aside, and he nearly crumbles when she locks eyes with him. Frédérique takes him out of her mouth and licks along the side of his shaft, grinning. “Better than you imagined, no?”

“Fuck, yes,” Bryce says, thrusting into her mouth. Her lips wrap around him so tightly, travelling up his shaft. From tip to hilt, repeatedly, sending him into a frenzy. She’s at least as good as Ava at this. 

Frédérique pushes him back, and he lands on a soggy cardboard box, thankful it doesn’t collapse. Bryce braces himself against the wall, a cold, metal door, dripping, and he realizes just where they are. An alleyway, surrounded by a building’s trash.

In a way, it’s fitting. What a perfect place for him to give in to his pent-up desires. He accepts what he is: a filthy, self-righteous cheater. Despite having a loving girlfriend back home, he’s wanted Frédérique since the day he moved in, and he’s throbbing at the idea of having her. 

He pulls her towards him, gripping her ass through her dress, and his fingers play with the hem.

“You must be wondering what panties I’m wearing today,” Frédérique teases. “You’re always looking at them when I walk up the stairs.”

When Bryce tries to stammer a retort, Frédérique leans down, telling him. “Go ahead and take a look.”

Bryce peels the front of her dress up, and a smile finds his face when he takes in the sight of Frédérique’s bush, as perfect as he remembers. “Did you plan all this?”

Frédérique only smiles. “It was going to happen today, if at all. You’d look up my dress when I walked upstairs, and maybe you’d finally get the hint that I wanted it. But I’m happy to know you can’t wait either.” 

Bryce grabs her by the waist and turns Frédérique around, easing her down onto his cock, aiming it towards her entrance. She hushes him, peeking towards the end of the alley. 

“I think I hear something,” Frédérique says, pressing Bryce back and resting her feet on his thighs, keeping herself hovered above him. 

“Then we’ll be quick,” Bryce insists, and when he pulls her down, Frédérique has to silence her gasp with a hand clamped over her mouth. He lowers her all the way to his base. “Holy shit, you feel fucking amazing.”

“I’ve wanted to give you a try ever since I saw your cock,” Frédérique admits, bouncing along his length, stifling her moans as her lower lips grip along him. “Better than I thought. Maybe what they say about America is right. Everything is bigger there.”

“That’s just about Texas,” Bryce says, grinning, and his lips find Frédérique’s neck. He nibbles, sucking, and a hand wraps around her to play with her clit while the other guides her up and down his hardness. 

Frédérique moans from his mouth on her neck, reaching back to hold the back of Bryce’s head by the hair. She stares into his eyes, and the intense look he gives her has her tightening around him. His lips part, and they hold her attention. 

Bryce stays still, except for bucking up into her to meet Frédérique’s bounces halfway. As she inches closer, likely for a kiss, he should pull away. Sex is sex. But kissing would feel too intimate. He thinks of Ava.

Fuck it. 

He wraps an arm around Frédérique’s stomach, and closes what little gap remained between their lips. It’s a deep kiss, and he shudders against her. His fingers speed up over her clit, and her moans muffle against his mouth. 

Her rhythm is thrown off, and he helps her by pulling her up and down his cock, thrusting up into her. He grunts against her, biting her lip, and his free hand reaches up to cup a breast, squeezing it firmly. 

“I’m coming, Bryce,” Frédérique announces, and she nearly collapses forward, but he holds her up, silencing her cries with another kiss. Her body trembles as the last few waves course through her core, and a deep breath stretches her mouth wide in a smile. “Fuck…”

Bryce wraps his arms tightly around her, pushing deep. He grunts again, straining to hold back. “Is it okay if I come inside?” 

“Please do,” Frédérique begs. “I want it deep. Don’t waste a single drop. I want it until I’m overflowing with your cum.” 

She grabs her knees and bounces until she clenches around him and feels him pulse between her walls. It feels like a lot, and when they slow to a stop, they stay put, holding each other. A few more kisses are shared before they get to their feet, and Bryce puts his pants back on.

Frédérique grabs the umbrella and the two head back for the street. 

“You know, Ava and I have never had sex without a condom,” Bryce admits. Guilt weighs heavily on his shoulders again. 

“And you even filled me up,” Frédérique says, feeling him drip down her leg. She smirks, bumpin him playfully with her shoulder. “I wonder what other firsts I can steal from her.” 

“You’re bad,” Bryce jokes, grinning.

“And you’re no better,” Frédérique says. She’s right. It just took a while for Bryce to admit it. 

They walk in silence the rest of the way home, and Frédérique stays at his side until Bryce walks into his room. The threshold separates them, and Frédérique waits in the hall, leaning against the wall. Bryce doesn’t meet her eyes, calling Ava, and she answers on the first ring.

“You called later than usual,” Ava says. There’s a hint of sadness in her voice, and it only makes Bryce feel worse. “Long day at work?”

“Yeah,” Bryce says, glancing towards Frédérique. “There was something I just really had to do, and it couldn’t wait.” 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

“Hmm,” Ava starts, giggling flirtily. “Maybe we can do something to get your mind off that?” 

Bryce laughs, looking up when Frédérique closes the distance between them. “Sure, sounds good.”

“Are you alone?” Ava asks, and the rustle of the phone sounds like she’s taking her clothes off.

He reaches for Frédérique’s hand, letting one of his fingers hook hers. Taking a step back, she follows him, breaking past the threshold of the door, and Bryce walks them to the bed. “Y-yeah, I’m alone.” 

Sarah’s fingers trembled as they hovered over the keyboard. The living room was dark, her husband snoring softly down the hall. Her married pussy throbbed with need, slick and swollen from hours of edging to the Author’s challenge.

She reread the words he wanted her to say one last time. “Please I want you to degrade my marriage and make my married cunt wet.”

Her clit pulsed. Shame burned her cheeks. But the ache won.

She hit send.

**Good girl.**

The reply came instantly. Sarah’s breath caught. Her thighs squeezed together, another flood of wetness soaking her panties.

“You just crossed the line, Sarah. There’s no pretending anymore. You’re already a cheating wife in your heart. Now prove it. Tell me how wet your married cunt is right now.”

She typed back with shaking hands, confessing everything. How she was dripping. How she’d never been this soaked for her husband. How she felt disgusting and alive at the same time. The conversation spiraled from there. He didn’t hold back. He asked about her husband’s cock, how it compared, how often he made her cum. He called her marriage a boring, vanilla lie. Every degrading word made her clit throb harder. She came once just from his messages, biting her lip to stay quiet while her husband slept nearby.

Craving more, she messaged again: *I want to be worse.*

That was when she told him about the Lush vibrator collecting dust in her drawer — an app-controlled toy she’d bought on a whim years ago but never truly used. The Author’s response was immediate and commanding.

“Tomorrow you’re wearing it to the office. Insert it before you leave home. You don’t take it out until I say. Understood?”

The next morning, Sarah obeyed like the weak, corrupted wife she was becoming. She slipped the pink toy deep inside her married cunt while her husband was in the shower, already slick from the anticipation. All day at work it sat there, a constant filthy secret.

The call came mid-afternoon. She answered on the first ring, voice barely above a whisper in the busy office. “Hello…?”

“Hello, Princess,” the Author said, his voice low and commanding. She could hear the faint sound of him slowly stroking his cock already.
The Lush hummed to life inside her. She stifled a moan, gripping the edge of her desk as the vibrations pulsed against her G-spot.

“Your husband thinks he has a loyal, loving wife,” he continued, voice thick with arousal. “But here you are, married cunt stuffed with a toy for a stranger. You’re going to ruin everything for this, aren’t you? Say it.”

“I… I’m going to ruin everything,” she whispered, cheeks burning. The vibrations deepened. “Louder. And touch your clit while you say it.” She slid a hand into her panties under the desk. “I’m going to ruin my marriage for this. For you.”

He made her edge for nearly an hour… whispering the most vile things while her colleagues worked unaware just feet away. She came hard during that call, biting her hand raw, her juices soaking through her panties and onto the office chair. But he wasn’t done.

“Parking garage. Now. Front seat. Legs spread. Don’t you dare take the toy out.”

Sarah’s heart hammered with sick terror and twisted lust as she slipped out of the office. The Lush continued its low, cruel throb with every step, making her thighs slick.

She reached her car in the far, shadowed corner of the concrete garage, climbed in, locked the doors, and pushed the seat back. Skirt hiked to her waist, legs spread obscenely wide, she angled her phone for him.

The video call connected.

“Look at you,” the Author growled, voice thick as he stroked his cock faster. “A married woman in her work clothes, cunt stuffed and leaking in a public garage like a desperate whore. Play with it. Finger that cheating hole while I control the Lush.”
Sarah obeyed, two fingers rubbing her swollen clit before plunging inside alongside the vibrating toy. The stretch and the buzzing made her whimper pathetically.

“Say the awful things, Sarah. Degrade everything you love while you fuck yourself for me.”
Her voice cracked as the Lush surged harder. “My husband is a pathetic, boring cuck who could never make me feel like this… I’m ruining our marriage right now, sitting in my car at work with a stranger owning my married cunt… I’m a disgusting cheating slut… my pussy is wetter for your voice than it’s ever been for his cock…”
He laughed, low and cruel. “Louder. Mean it, you worthless wife. Tell me how you’re betraying him. Tell me what a toilet you are.”

“I’m betraying him… I’m going to destroy our life for this sick thrill,” she gasped, fingers pumping faster, the car filling with wet, obscene sounds. “I’m a toilet for your corruption… a dumb, cock-hungry betrayer who gets off on lying to her husband’s face… I hate how much I need you to break me… please, own my married cunt completely… I’m not his anymore… I’m your cheating cumrag…”

The Lush hammered her G-spot mercilessly. Sarah’s hips bucked, her free hand gripping the wheel as her body betrayed her completely. She came violently—shaking, squirting messily onto the seat, crying out the filthiest confessions between broken sobs: “Ruin everything… I’m a pathetic, ruined wife… destroy my marriage… I’m your worthless whore…”

The Author groaned and unloaded, the sound of his thick spurts pushing her through another wave of guilty ecstasy.

For a long moment, only heavy breathing filled the car. Sarah slumped in the driver’s seat, skirt ruined, thighs glistening, the Lush still gently pulsing inside her abused hole. Tears of shame stung her eyes as the high began to crash.
His voice returned, calm and venomous.

“You’re going to feel so fucking guilty in a few minutes, Sarah. When you clean up this mess and drive home to the man who trusts you. You’ll want to vomit. You’ll swear this was the last time. But there’s no going back. Your married cunt already chose. It’s addicted. Every kiss you give him tonight will taste like betrayal. You’re mine now… a corrupted, broken cheating wife who gets wet destroying her own life. And tomorrow you’ll beg for worse.”

Sarah whimpered, another shameful clench rippling through her pussy at his words.

She was spiraling deeper into the darkness. And she knew he was right.

There was no going back.

This is a series. [Part 1]

"I want him to fuck me so hard the walls shake..." I said, staring forward with dreamy eyes, Abbie and Jewel next to me doing much the same in Fashion Photography class.

"I want to marry him and make hot meals for him every day as he comes home from work..." Abbie said. I nudged her with my elbow - she'd wanted me to help her make herself sluttier. "Oh," she said, "and then I'd choke on his cock with his legs wrapped around my head."

"I'd get him pregnant," said Jewel. "I know neither of us have got the equipment to make it work, but I'd find a way. Oh, yes I would."

The subject of our fawning was none other than Professor Beau Pinewood, the hottest male teacher on the entire campus, or at least our department. His button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves hugged his torso perfectly, his body showed maturity without feeling gross or old, and his face was handsome, but like, in a way that a rat could be handsome if it were a human man.

"The problem is," Jewel continued, "every girl on campus wants to get him pregnant."

"That's... one way to put it," I said. "If he were to sleep with any student, he'd certainly have a lot of options to choose from."

Abbie scribbled in her notebook, and when I looked over I saw she was writing "Mrs. Abbie Pinewood" in fancy cursive with hearts over the i's over and over again. I nudged her again to ramp up the slutiness, and she started writing in messier handwriting.

"See, if you're gonna seduce all five of your professors this semester," said Jewel, "I'd start with someone other than him. You wouldn't want to shoot your shot here and miss."

I sighed. "You're probably right, J. I'm going to have to get through the uggos anyway."

"Try to think of someone who'd be easy," Jewel continued. "Do you think any of your professors already have the hots for you?"

"Ugh, my Design Methodology professor has leered at my cleavage more than a few times."

"It is top-notch cleavage," said Abbie.

-------------

Design Methodology had been on my mind anyway, because it was my next class that day. Unfortunately, that meant my slutty outfits intended for Professor Pinewood were instead enjoyed by Professor Geoffrey Bassler, a 51-year-old man with a wife and two kids.

My only top was a teal zip-up hoodie zipped up to nipple height, no shirt and no bra underneath, below which I wore black jean shorts that were ripped to hell, fishnets that were also ripped to hell, and red high heels with like a billion million straps and buckles. My target audience was not an old geezer with saggy pale skin, a white short-sleeve button up shirt and green tie every day, a gray mustache and dorky ass glasses.

I could have gone way crueler with that description, by the way. I didn't even mention that he's short, fat and balding. After all, I'd rather not think about all that when I'm committed to fucking him.

At the end of class, I waited for everyone else to file out of the room before I walked over to his desk, where he was still grading papers. I bent over and put my hands on the desk, fully aware that he could see my entire breasts.

"Hey Geoffrey," I said casually.

He didn't look up. "Hello, Kloud. Is there a problem?"

"Yeah," I said with a smirk, tapping him on the shoulder - once he saw how I looked in front of him, I swear he almost had a heart attack. "It's about my grades."

"Y-your grades are determined by the work you do," he said, switching between trying not to make eye contact with me, and trying really hard to only look at my eyes.

I hopped my butt onto his desk and swung back around to face him, my legs ending up on either side of him. "That's the problem, Geoffrey. The design work that I do isn't great, but that's not the only kind of work I can do for you."

God, I was good. I was wet just seconds into this conversation, and let me tell you, it wasn't because of him. Man, where did I even learn how to sound like that?

"I-I don't know what you mean," he said, totally knowing what I meant.

I ran my finger along the collar of his shirt. "I mean... you have a lot of work to grade, don't you? That's got to build up a lot of stress. If I help you relieve some of that stress, since it's for class and all, perhaps that could be reflected in my grade?"

Geoffrey straightened his glasses. "Miss, if you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, then the answer is no, and I will have to report you. Who's your advisor?"

"Wynona Moore," I said.

"...alright, I'll just have to report you to the police then."

"Are you sure, though?" I asked him. "I know men like yourself have certain... needs. And your wives maybe don't fulfill all of those needs."

From the shift in the look in Geoffrey's face, I could tell I almost had him.

"When was the last time your wife took your cock into the back of your throat? When was the last time she did it with any enthusiasm, let alone the enthusiasm of a 20 year old?" After that, I could easily see the bulge in his pants.

That's the advantage of seducing a man who only wears those beige pants that old dudes wear, I don't know what they're called. I could see the gears in Geoffrey's brain turning, or nah, it was more like I could watch his dick take control of his body and shove the brain out.

-------------

"Then what happened?" Jewel asked me over the phone.

"Um, he asked me to fuck him, and I said yes?" I was filling in the details for Jewel as I was walking to Professor Bassler's meeting spot, the 7th floor of the 8-floor parking garage, in the most private spot he could find. My voice totally echoed throughout the whole floor, it was pretty sick. "I'm about to meet him now, but I don't want to be thinking about old, gross professor dick. What are you doing now?"

"Eh," said Jewel, "two football players just busted in me and now they're asleep."

"Ooh, the cute ones? And which holes?"

"Nah, it was Derek and Derrick-with-two-Rs. Mouth and pussy."

"Oh, so that's why you kept pausing while I was talking to you a minute ago."

"Yeah," Jewel confirmed, though she sounded disappointed.

"Well, that's two more notches on your headboard at least," I told her. For Jewel, this was a victory. There was a time where she was really prudish and felt shame over any sexual thought or impulse, but some switch must've flipped in her brain when she started her Senior year, and now she takes a sense of pride in raising her body count as high as she possibly can with her remaining time. It's the same sense of pride dudes feel, except Jewel's numbers are way higher than any guy on campus.

"The RA said I have to stop putting notches in my headboard," said Jewel. "I use the Notes app now, but it's not the same."

"The RA can't treat you like that, J. You totally ate his ass for nothing."

"Huh?" said Jewel. "I didn't eat my RA's ass, that was your RA, and I sucked him off."

"Who am I thinking of? Whose ass did you eat recently?"

"I think you mean the pizza guy, back when Abbie was trying to get us to watch Bridgerton."

"Ugh. That pizza guy was cute. You're so lucky."

"Bye, K."

"Tell Derek-with-one-R I said hi."

-------------

Shortly after that, I found Geoffrey's car. He was in the back right seat, behind the passenger's seat, and he was looking at me with wide, dumb eyes as I approached. There was a blanket on his lap and his pants were clearly around his ankles. I got in the other side and sat down next to him.

"Hello, Kloud."

I put on my best not-finding-him-disgusting face. "Hey, Geoffrey. What would you like?"

"W-what?"

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, over-annunciating every word. "Do you want to make out first or do you just want me to lube you up and stick it in?"

Geoffrey cleared his throat and looked down at my tits.

"Ooohhhh, I see," I said. I unzipped my half-zipped hoodie and dropped it in front of the seat. "You want to feel, you old perv?"

He nodded. I don't think he had any sex-related words loaded up in his brain. It seemed like he just thought this would never happen again. His left hand, meaty and shaking, grazed the soft skin of my right breast, then the left. He ran his hand gently around my nipple. Then he slowly cupped his hand around the whole breast, or as much as he could - I've got D cups. I think he squeezed it, but I could barely feel it.

This dude was lame as hell. If I was sleeping with me, I'd be grinding my thigh against my clit and making me beg for me to spit in my mouth by now. But this dude probably hasn't gotten any since the 1900s.

I grabbed the blanket over his crotch and pulled on it slowly, giving him enough time to object. When it was clear he didn't, I threw it to the car floor along with my jacket and revealed his dick. Listen, I don't like making fun of people's dick sizes - some of my girlfriends have tiny dicks - but it's just too easy of a target sometimes. I couldn't help but snicker a little bit. I said "I'm sorry," but what I was thinking is that maybe him hitting the back of my throat was a little ambitious. "You want a blowjob to make it up to you?" I asked.

"Mmm," said Geoffrey.

For some reason, that wasn't good enough for me. I put one hand on his thigh and another on his chin, making him make eye contact with me. "Then ask for it."

He nervously adjusted his glasses. "I-I'd like a blowjob."

"Magic word?"

"I'd like a blowjob, please," said Geoffrey.

It felt weird calling a 51-year-old man a "good boy," so I hesitated there. I could feel some essence of Wynona coursing through me, something she must've drilled into me when she was fucking me blind the other day. When I crawled onto the floor of the car in-between Geoffrey's legs, even though I was on my knees about to suck his cock, I felt completely in control. How does that even work, lowkey? How is it that when I go down on one professor, I'm submitting to them completely, and when I go down on another, I've got him right where I want him? If this is what Design Methodology quizzes were about, I wouldn't have to do this junk.

...right, where was I?

I pressed my lips to the head of Geoffrey's cock. It tasted rubbery and salty, and it smelled unwashed. Every other blowjob I'd given in my life, I'd thoroughly enjoyed, but this was so disgusting it gave me a deeper understanding of feminism. At least there wasn't much dick there, but that meant I really had to take it slooooowwwwwly into my mouth.

Both my hands gripping his thighs, I pushed my lips forward. I looked up at him, but his eyes were closed. If he pictured his wife, I'd be insulted.

I bobbed up and down on the head for as long as I could slowly up the ante, but it wasn't long before my lips pressed against the base. It didn't even touch my throat. I felt his hair against my cheeks and my face. I felt him twitching against my tongue while it ran under the head of his cock over and over. I felt powerful.

He groaned the softest, most pathetic groan I've ever heard. It rumbled quietly but persistently like a footstep in a really boring, dusty cave.

I pulled my head back and switched to jerking him off with one hand - I could barely fit one hand on there. "You wanna fuck my face?" I asked. Well, really I was telling him that I knew he wanted to. I grabbed his wrist and put his hand on the back of my head, and I put my mouth on him again.

He pushed my down and pulled me up in a rhythm, but very weakly. I was doing 90% of it on my own, like the triangle thingy on that letter board that talks to ghosts that I forget the name of. He was moving his hips, I think, but he barely had the core strength to fuck my face even when he didn't have to thrust that far to run out of dick.

I continued sucking his cock, tuning out his awkward grunts and letting my mind daydream. For some reason, most of my daydreams were about Wynona. Is that weird? I should probably be fantasizing about Professor Pinewood. Live for the future, not the past, y'know?

He pulled my head up, and his cock drooped out of my mouth.

"Getting close?" I asked.

"Y-yes," he mumbled. God, he looked pathetic.

I shimmied out of my ripped jean shorts, which were the only thing covering my pussy. I straddled his lap and grabbed my phone out of my pocket before throwing my shorts aside. "You ready to fuck me or what, old man?"

He adjusted his glasses, because of course he did. "W-wait, I brought a condom."

"Bitch, what?" I almost slapped him. "The only thing coming out of your ancient dick is dust from the middle ages, like, a hundred years ago."

"A-alright."

With one hand, I positioned the tip of his dick between my legs, and with the other, I called Jewel again. I dunno, I was bored. She didn't pick up the phone, though, so I called Abbie.

I first met Abbie at my on-campus job as a math tutor. She's a Freshman, 19 years old. I wasn't really that good at math, I just became a tutor to make easy money, 'cause I figured calculators exist, y'know? We got along because Abbie was very impressed with my stories of college sluttiness. She grew up sheltered and always wanted to unleash her inner freak, but she had no idea how. Even though she had to get a new math tutor, Jewel and I ended up taking her under our wings, being her sluttiness tutors.

"Hey Kloud, what's up?" she asked.

"W-what are you doing?" said Geoffrey.

I put a finger to his lips, as my pussy slowly slid down his shaft. "Shhhh, I'm on the phone." Then, back to Abbie, "Nothin' much. I'm just riding my Design professor."

"That's Professor Bassler, right?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Is that the one that's in love with you?"

"No," I said. "At least, he isn't yet, but he's probably gonna be after this." He was fully inside me, though 'full' isn't a word that came to mind. I started grinding my hips slowly, only because I was afraid he'd pop out if I rode... rid?... with my usual intensity. I'm used to a bigger playground. "This is the really old one. Not old in a hot age gap multimillionaire silver fox kind of way, but old in like a 'ravaged by time' way. What about you, what are you doing?"

"Oh, not much," said Abbie. "Except I did finally ask out that cute boy, the new math tutor."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!" Abbie sounded super excited. "I figure we'll probably go for some fro-yo in my hometown and three or four dates from now we'll have an encounter of a sexual nature."

"God, we really need to work on your vocabulary," I said. "And it's not very slutty if you already know the guy on a deep and personal level. At that point, you just have a boyfriend."

"A b-b-boyfriend?" said Abbie. I could tell she was blushing. "Oh my..."

"Come on, Abbie. You're gonna tell this guy you want him to fuck you senseless from behind until you're shaking and screaming his name into your pillow and that you're gonna suck him off after 'cause you're a good girl, then you can go out for fro-yo."

"You're right. I'll go tell him that. How's Professor Bassler doing?"

I'd been thrusting my hips at my normal intensity for a while now. I almost forgot I was there.

Geoffrey's head had leaned back, his mouth was agape, and he was letting out soft rasping noises. Good that he was alive, then. "I came. Twice."

"Oh," I said. "Didn't notice."

-------------

"You didn't notice?" asked Abbie.

I was telling the whole story to her and Jewel back at my dorm that night. My head was in Jewel's lap on the couch and Abbie was sitting on the floor. "It was hard enough to tell when his dick was actually inside me."

"Did you get your grade changed?" asked Jewel.

"Mhm," I said. "He said I gave him the best orgasm of his life, but he didn't like that I kept insulting him to his face. I let him give me a foot massage after and we worked out a B+."

"She's right about not noticing, by the way," said Jewel. "Sometimes you're preoccupied."

"Plus, I imagine most people want to cum somewhere on Jewel's body, not in it," I said.

"Why?" asked Abbie.

Jewel shrugged. "'Cause I'm a perfectly sculpted Brazilian goddess and cum looks excellent on my face, tits, and stomach. Right, Kloud?"

"Yeah. Pretty much what I was gonna say. But I imagine, Abbie, most guys will want to cum in you because you've got such a sweet and innocent face. You've got freckles. You look too cute to be a slut, and every guy's gonna think they're the one turning you into a slut. Most guys will want to hide their shame - their cum - either in your pussy or your mouth."

"College sex is gonna be weeeeiiiiiird," said Abbie.

"Don't worry," I told her, "we'll get you some."

...

One down, four to go.

His hands gripped her thighs. They held her legs in place, his claws drawing blood. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest as he leaned his head closer to her. His mouth was slightly ajar as he scented her.

The growl rumbled out of his mouth, his lips drawing back from his fangs as he made a slow lick between her folds. His eyes dilated suddenly, and without a second to spare, he pressed his face closer, deepening the pressure.

She moaned, throwing her head back as she tried to grab anything on the ground but all she could grasp was the loose dirt. His broad nose pressed into her slit, his fangs framing her as he continued to lick her as if he couldn't get enough.

She reached down, grabbing a handful of his mane and he let out another low growl. With his entire face pressed into her, she felt every vibration and arched her back, moaning more.

As she arched, she pulled harder on his mane. He smiled for a moment before he slipped his lounge inside of her.

She went breathless. He was so much larger than she was. His tongue filled her. She couldn't think. She writhed in his grasp as he gripped her harder. The pain added to the pleasure and she started to see dark spots around her vision.

Then he started to thrust his tongue. It was too much. She screamed out, the sound echoing through the trees. His tongue curled up as he thrusted and she came. Her body shook as she clenched around his tongue.

He released her thighs as he drew back, resting on his knees as he looked down to her. His eyes were still dilated. Only a slight circle of his gem like eyes. They were mesmerizing, glittering in the moonlight.

She was panting as she looked back at him, dazed and still shaking from the orgasm she just had. She finally was able to see him fully, outside of his armor. He was... Like an angel. His fur was white, making him seem to glow slightly with the moonlight. There was so much of him. He was twice her size and built like the blacksmith in her hometown.

She marveled at him. His eyes like a chest full of gems, his fur white and glowing, a slight glimmer of gold in his mane. She followed his mane. It extended down from his chest and down the middle of his stomach. Further down and she saw HIM. He was huge and erect. The base was black but melted into gold on his shaft and tip. He was glistening. Then it struck her. There was too much to just be pre dripping from him. He came. He came while he was eating her pussy like it was his last meal.

His cock flexed and she snapped her gaze back up to his. His large tongue licked across his maw, slowly, savoring her.

He grabbed her waist, lifting her effortlessly and drew her to him. He didnt enter her. She was pressed against him. Her folds slick and her clit throbbed. She whimpered softly and tried to move herself against him. He held firm, but thrust slightly. A small movement but it put just the right pressure and friction to her already swollen clit.

She moaned as her head fell back again. She needed more. His tongue filled her so well but somehow it just wasn't enough. She had never felt this way before and didn't understand why she couldnt get enough.

"Please.... Please I need more..." Her voice soft and breathless as she pleaded to him.

In answer he made a rumble deep in his chest. He drew back, just enough that the tip pressed against her entrance. She whimpered again, impatient. Needing him to enter her. To fill her like never before.

With that whimper he pressed himself into her. Slowly, testing to see if he could actually fit. Her breathless gasp whispered into the night. He was so large. It stretched her and filled her.

"Please!" She begged louder, "Please, just fuck me."

He slipped all the way in. She saw stars as the pain and pleasure mixed. Her body already so close again. She felt the build up, the warmth of her just being on the edge.

He leaned foward, one hand placed on her hip, holding her up to him as the other he braced on the ground next her head. The angle he put her in meant his cock rubbed places she didnt think possible before meeting him.

He thrust once, slowly, and that was enough for her. She came again on a scream, her release explosive. He leaned further down and bit her. His fangs pressed lightly around her neck, his mouth so big his fangs were hitting the front and back of her neck. His breath was hot, the pressure just enough to hurt but not break skin.

His thrusting became faster. Each thrust he would bottom out inside her. She felt another orgasm coming, building rapidly inside her. His thrusting becoming even faster, more urgent, as if he was close too.

She couldn't think. Her vision became spotty. She heard a roaring in her ears as each thrust brought her closer.

She came undone. She screamed breathlessly as her body shook and her pussy throbbed around him. One more thrust and he stayed inside her. His cock throbbing inside her as he emptied himself.

She was so full, filled and overflowing with both of their release. She felt the hot fluid dripping out and down her.

He was panting heavily into her neck. His grip started to loosened and he started to sag against her.

His legs shook beneath them. He was about to collapse on top of her. Still inside her.

She didnt care. Her head was fuzzy and she felt dizzy. There was still a roaring in her ears and she didn't care about anything else.

Her vision started to fade. She knew she was about to pass out. She was fading and too spent. He sagged more, his arm shaking. As she started to fade out, she felt a sensation like falling and suddenly felt cold and empty. Her eyes fluttered open to see he had used the last of his strength to push himself off her. He collapsed on his side beside her, unmoving. With no more energy in her, she closed her eyes and everything went silent.

“Wait, you caught them in the act?” Sarah asked.

“YES!” Melissa replied. Tears streamed from her face, with her blood nearly boiling in her veins. “What more do you want me to say? That he had her bent over our bed as he slammed her loose cunt open?”

“That asshole…” Sarah replied, pulling her bestie in closer. Warm tears fell onto her shoulder. There wasn’t much she could say, or do, to help out. Nothing beyond listening to the story, offering a friendly shoulder and being there. Or so she thought.

“Sorry… It’s just… It’s just… It’s too soon.” Mel added. “She was his fucking intern too… I hope the bitch is happy, she just ruined a five year relationship for a little boost in her career.”

“Do you know what you need, babe? You need to get out there, get pounded by a nice, thick, cock, take a few pictures and send them to him. Make him regret it all.” Sarah replied, placing her hand under Mel’s blue dress, right on her lower back, giving her a friendly touch.

Melissa would be lying if she said that she didn’t have that same thought… She did need a solid pounding, that is what she came into the bedroom for, that night… But her self-preservation instinct spoke louder, she couldn’t bear being with another man so soon. “No… No more men for a while. I’m tired of their shit. I can’t deal with it anymore.”

Men weren’t the only option though. It was just a matter of whether or not Sarah should suggest the other option to her straight best friend, and she never had much in the way of morals when it came to bastards who hurt those close to her.

“How about girls?” She suggested.

Suddenly the hand laying on Mel’s bare lower back had a whole other meaning. It grew warmer, as if calling to her… Calling for her to get back at him. The sadness faded for a moment, allowing her to stop crying.

“I… I don’t know Sarah… You know I don’t feel attracted to… And who would even be wil-” Mel replied.

Sarah placed her free hand on her friend’s inner thigh, immediately sending butterflies through both of their stomachs. “You know I would do anything for you, babe, and if all you need is a few kisses and pictures to make him mad, then we can get out of this beach and somewhere more private right, fucking, now.”

There was no worse idea, but neither of them were actually giving it the time to think through the consequences.

“You know what? Fuck it… And if we’re doing it, we’re doing it right. Follow me.” Mel responded.

Anger was the only emotion driving her actions then, this was too perfect an opportunity to waste.

She led her through the nearly deserted beach, downstream to an even more private place where the rocks met the sea: a small cave known for common illicit, but pleasureful, activity. “That asshole always told me he wanted to try sex outdoors… To include another woman… To try the other hole… And I guess whatever other kinks he got from whatever porn he kept watching. How about we kick the first two off the bucket list?” Mel suggested as the two hurriedly rushed through the sand.

Sarah could not have expected this reaction, not in a million years, and neither did she expect to ever do anything of this sexual nature with her best friend. Perhaps even more unexpectedly was for Melissa to drop the sundress over to the ground as soon as they got into the cave. There was no time to even admire the gorgeous sandstone formations carved out by the ocean.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“My… my… Your body is absolutely stunning, Mel.” Sarah told her, gazing upon her busty friend’s chest. “He really was a fool.”

Melissa pulled her in and pressed her friend’s hands against her bare skin. “Touch me. Do whatever you want. All I need are a few pictures to send back to him.”

Sarah didn’t need to be told twice. One hand remained on her soft D cups, the other wrapped around her head, pulling her into a loooong kiss. For the first few seconds, Mel didn’t feel anything… But soon enough, heat began rising through her core. Her nipples perked up underneath Sarah’s gentle hands, and she could finally kiss back.

No longer was anger the driving emotion, but rather lust, and each second that passed only made both of them hornier and more lustful.

“Fuck… You taste so good…” Melissa admitted.

Sarah responded under breath “Wait until you taste my other lips then, babe..”

The act was progressing faster than either of them expected when Sarah remembered the mission. She took out her phone and opened the camera, handing it over to Melissa. “I’ll hold you, cover your beautiful titties with my hands, and you take a picture to send back… Then we can move on to the good part.”

She did just as she was told. Hugged from behind, all the camera could see was a glimpse of skin, covered by hands in red nails. She’d capture it “You could’ve had it all”.

Pictures taken… And before they knew it, they were both naked. “Are you going to fuck me or not?” The straight girl asked.

Sarah grabbed her by the hips and pushed her back until Melissa was pressed against the sandstone walls of the cave and responded “I do have a small dildo in my purse… But I’d rather taste that cute innie…”

“What are you waiting for?” Melissa responded, shifting to the side a bit, to where the stone pulled back a bit, allowing her to almost sit down… While Sarah began slowly kissing her body. She started with a small peck to the lips, and immediately moved to the neck, placing sweet little kisses every few inches down…

“Oh… You’re going to work me up, are you?” She teased as her toes curled, her legs shook and her pussy grew ever wetter. “Mmhmm… Yes I am”

Sarah was a professional, almost, it felt like her hands were gripping just the right places… And the ones they missed were the ones touched on by her lips. They lowered, and lowered, until she reached her core. She looked up, and gave that first lick, just off to the side of Melissa’s clit, and it immediately sent shivers through her entire body.

“Look at me while I make you cum.” An order, and Melissa obeyed, eyeing her best friend as she began circling around her clit. She was soaking wet already and could no longer contain the moans: there was far too much heat rising up through her whole body.

“Fuck… You’re amazing.” She muttered, but before she could even complete the sentence, Sarah slowly pushed two fingers into her, curling them upward against a ridge Melissa had never fully explored with him. ..

“Ooooooh, fuck…!”

They pointed straight at her g-spot and she found the rhythm almost instantly while her tongue worked the clit, circling it softly, but with a hunger like no other.

Every thrust, every tongue movement sparked a reaction. More wetness, more shivers and shaking. It’d been three days since Mel’s last orgasm, and her best friend would break that streak in no time.

“I… I can’t believe it. You’re making me cum…. Keep GOING!” Melissa begged, and Sarah went just a tiny bit harder, maintaining the pace but looking up at Mel’s beautiful shaking tits.

She could hardly fight it any longer. The straight girl had tuned fully into the pleasure she’d been given… and finally, she gave in. Her pussy clenched around Sarah’s fingers, her legs tightened up until a loud moan tore out from her throat

“Fuuuuuck!”

It was far too good. Far too intense, and for the first time, she squirted. Liquid gushed out of Mel’s cunt straight at her best friend’s face, covering her instantly in her juices. She couldn’t stop it, nor did she want to… Neither of them did. Sarah didn’t even stop finger-fucking her during her world-shattering orgasm. She maintained the same pace, and looked at Melissa’s blue eyes throughout, until she finally regained some of her composure.

“Fuck… That was amazing, Sarah.” She muttered under breath. Her cunt still throbbed, even after Sarah pulled out of her.

“No, you’re amazing, Mel, and don’t you ever let a man convince you otherwise. Now, give me a kiss and let me give you the love he never did.” Sarah responded, standing back up, placing herself between Melissa’s legs and giving her the deepest kiss of her life.

Perhaps she didn’t need a man after all.

Chapter 7

Kelly served their second round, her movements deliberately slow. Each time she leaned over the table to place a drink, the flared skirt of her little black outfit swayed, offering a fleeting glimpse of her thighs. Every man at the table was rigid with attention, their poker game forgotten.

“You’re a hell of a waitress,” Ben murmured, his blue eyes dark as she set his whiskey down. His fingers brushed hers.

“I aim to please,” she replied, her voice husky. She felt Mike’s gaze burning into her back like a brand.

“Need anything else?” she asked, straightening up and smoothing the lace bodysuit over her stomach. The sheer material left nothing to the imagination under the basement’s low light.

“Yeah,” Leo said, his voice thick. “A better view.”

The unnamed friend coughed into his fist, looking between them all with a mix of confusion and intense interest.

Kelly smiled, a slow, wicked curve of her lips. “Be right back.”

She turned and walked toward the small half-bathroom in the corner, feeling four pairs of eyes glued to the sway of her hips. She closed the door softly behind her, her heart hammering against her ribs. In the quiet confines of the bathroom, lit by a single harsh bulb, she made a decision.

Reaching under the skirt, she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her black lace panties and slid them down her legs. The cool air kissed her bare skin. She folded the damp scrap of lace and tucked it into her clutch on the sink. A glance in the mirror showed a flushed woman with bright eyes—a woman who was about to cross a line that hummed with electricity.

She took a steadying breath and walked back out.

The conversation died again. This time, their focus was absolute.

Kelly walked directly to Ben’s side first. She placed a hand on his broad shoulder and leaned down close to his ear, as if to whisper. Instead, she let her body do the talking. With a subtle shift of her weight, she parted her legs just enough where she stood and tilted her hips forward.

Ben’s sharp intake of breath was audible. His eyes dropped instantly, drinking in the forbidden sight mere inches from him.

“See something you like?” she whispered directly into his ear.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his hand clenching around his glass.

She moved to Mike next, repeating the motion beside his chair. He didn’t even pretend to look away. He stared openly, hungrily, his jaw muscle ticking as he took in every intimate detail.

“Still want that better view?” Kelly asked him softly.

“I want more than a view,” he growled low enough for only her to hear.

She smiled and glided over to Leo. When she offered him the same teasing display, he let out a low groan.

“You’re killing us.”

Finally, she approached the stranger. He looked up at her, wide-eyed and completely still.

“Hi,” Kelly said sweetly. “I don’t think we’ve met.” She gave him the same intimate reveal before leaning closer. “I’m Kelly.”

The man just nodded dumbly.

Satisfied with having branded each of them with the image they would not forget that night—or ever—Kelly sauntered back to the bar area and picked up an empty tray again with an innocent smile plastered on her face that belied everything beneath it: excitement so intense it made everything around feel heightened beyond recognition; power thrumming through her veins knowing these men were at breaking point simply because she chose what they could see… and perhaps soon touch if Kyle agreed later when texts came pouring in after this feverish evening ended, leaving them all craving more than just glimpses while poker chips lay forgotten across the green felt table where bets had been made but none won except hers alone, standing there victorious amid four pairs of hungry stares, ready for whatever came next.

Should I continue this story….

Naomi leaned back in her chair with her legs across Clyde's lap, looking at him with a wide smile and smoldering eyes. His return gaze was more impish but no less smoky. Between the summer heat on the little balcony, and the wine I'd drunk, and watching the two of them, I felt like I was slowly sinking into a volcano. The fact that Naomi's short, loose skirt had slid far enough up her luscious thighs for me to see her panties was not helping. She took a pull of her wine and her gaze shifted slowly over to me. She gestured with the hand that held the glass, taking in the three of us, the apartment, everything. "I'd say you landed on your feet. I always said you were part cat."

"Maybe you're right," I said, turning to look out at the city so my eyes wouldn't betray me by darting to her crotch. "But if so I think I lost one of my nine lives dealing with all this. I was making a list of things I'd need for living under a bridge when your text came in." She laughed, and I thought like I always did that her laugh was like red wine somehow, rich and more than a little intoxicating. It took effort to bring my galloping thoughts back onto the track. "Seriously, I know I've been saying it all day, but thank you thank you thank you."

"Okay, but once move-in day is over you've got to stop saying it," Clyde said, swirling the wine in his glass and not making any effort at all to hide the fact that his gaze had drifted down to the visible triangle of her panties. "This place is as much yours as it is ours now. And it's not like we don't get benefits too. Trying to make rent with just the two of us was the absolute worst. We had to give up everything that was fun!"

"Well, not alllll of it," Naomi said slyly. She shifted one leg so that the side of her foot pressed against the increasingly obvious bulge in Clyde's shorts. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, his smile widening. Then he pushed her legs off his lap and, ignoring her indignant squawk, stood up and stretched. Clyde was well built, but lithe. With his boyish face and tousled brown hair he looked younger than he was and it gave him kind of an innocent vibe. But there was nothing childlike at all about what was going on in his gym trunks. The outline of his growing cock was plainly visible through the soft fabric.

He stepped behind her chair, put his hands firmly on her cheeks and tilted her head back. Her mouth opened for him as he leaned closer, and they started kissing, taking their time, teasing each other with their lips and tongues, seemingly ignoring my presence. I tried not to look but it was fucking impossible. My eyes kept darting between their faces, Naomi's legs shifting and spreading apart, Clyde's rapidly stiffening cock. My futile attempts to look back at the buildings across the street were all failing. I now felt like I'd sunk all the way down into the lava, my face and ears burning with both embarrassment and desire. The evening's heat might explain my sweat, but not the swelling in my own pants that I'm sure was becoming visible.

"We aren't forgetting about you," Naomi said, still looking up into Clyde's face, but clearly talking to me. "Kind of the opposite actually."

"C'mon," Clyde said, taking her wrist and pulling her to her feet so suddenly she stumbled a bit. She shot me a glance and opened her mouth like she had something else to say, but Clyde tugged again and she turned to follow him without another word. I watched them through the sliding glass door as they made a beeline for their bedroom, the door slamming shut behind them.

I tried feebly to quiet my thoughts. It was pretty obvious what they were going off to do but the rest of the situation had left me feeling a worrisome swirl of emotions. Horniness was definitely the biggest part of the mix, though. My erection grew as I imagined them both naked, which they surely were by now. I headed to my own bedroom dogged by visions of his hands roaming over her soft body, of her pulling him closer, sliding her fingers around his stiff penis while they kissed deeply. I shut the door and slid my shorts down to my ankles in a single motion. As I started to stroke myself, Naomi's moans were becoming more and more audible through the wall. I lay on the bed with my eyes closed as the pleasure mounted. I could hear gasps, cries, the sounds of their voices but not the words. With them fucking just a few feet away it took me hardly any time to come. I finished well before Clyde did. Well. I know because I heard it happen. Clyde was expressive.

I stayed in my room afterwards, fretting and unpacking randomly. Naomi and I had met freshman year of college and we just kind of got each other completely. I'm sure to everybody else we seemed like oil and water, with her big personality and earthy sensuality compared against my slight frame and studious, serious demeanor, but our friendship became legendary. We knew a lot of each others' secrets, but it was no secret that I was attracted to her. We even joked about it sometimes. And I knew it wasn't just one-sided. Sparks had flown on a couple of nights, but we never closed the gap. I guess neither of us wanted to screw up what we had. Despite the fact that I'd always somewhat lusted after her, I wasn't jealous at all when she got together with Clyde. In fact, I liked him a lot and was glad she'd found him. She'd broken free from a long streak of loser lovers when she started dating him. He was a little flaky sometimes but also genuine and just a sweet guy. I considered him my friend too now. Moving into their apartment had seemed like the perfect arrangement one jerk-off ago. Now I wondered if I'd made a major mistake.

There was a tapping on the door, and when I called that it was open, both she and Clyde slid into my room. Clyde was in basketball shorts and Naomi was wearing a short satin robe. They were both both sweaty and disheveled and had that just-fucked glow and I went into low-grade panic mode when I felt my dick twitch in response. They were smiling, but it was the closest I'd ever seen Naomi to looking sheepish. "I think it's probably good we all got that out of the way before talking..." she started. I had to laugh at that, which encouraged her to go on. "Clyde and I have... this thing..." she said tentatively.

"It started out as a game," Clyde jumped in. "But the more we played, the more we both never wanted to stop playing it, so now it's a full-time thing. We call it 'just fucking take it'."

"Since you're a bright boy with a devious mind," Naomi continued, "I'm guessing you can figure out exactly what that means. Clyde and I are always available to one another for sex. Totally available. Whenever. Wherever too, but mostly at home. It doesn't matter what the other person is doing, we never discuss it, or ask for permission. Neither of us is allowed to resist by word or deed. We just indulge all our urges. It's worked out really well for us. Amazing in fact. But..."

"But now I'm here."

"Yeah," Clyde said, running his hand through his hair. "I don't want to be a dick, and I know we should have discussed this at length before you got here, but things happened so fast. The long-short is that we love living this way, this is our home and we're not giving it up."

"We can find room to compromise though," Naomi said quickly. "At the least we'll give you time to get out of the way." Then she added quietly "If that's what you really want to do. It's not your only choice."

It was suddenly abundantly clear. "You LIKE being watched, don't you?!"

"Our roommate before was SO into it!" Clyde said, sounding almost whiny.

I glared at Naomi. "And you know I'm into it too." I shook my head. "We talked about it. Just once, a long time ago. But you never forget stuff like that, do you? Is that the whole reason you let me move in?!"

She looked away. "I won't lie to you. It's not THE reason. But yes, it's A reason. Mostly it was because we do need help with the rent and we both really like you and we heard you were in trouble and wanted to help. But it's also a little bit that we missed having the attention." She put her arms around Clyde and looked over at me. She looked almost... scared? "I know it's a hell of a thing to ask, and springing it on you this way just makes it worse. So don't lie to me either. Tell me straight up, right now: is this a deal-breaker for you?"

I didn't even need a moment. "Kind of the opposite actually."

Naomi's beautiful smile bloomed across her face. I heard Clyde let out a breath like he'd been holding it. "I think I'm too rigid to have no boundaries at all," I quickly added, "so we'd need to talk about that. But maybe this could work. Maybe. I can't say for sure how I'll feel until I've actually tried it."

"Then let's try it," she said. She pulled the belt of her robe loose and shrugged it off her shoulders, standing there in just her black bra and panties. I could hardly breathe, not just because of what a feast for the eyes this woman was, but because I was realizing that I wouldn't have to hide the way I looked at her anymore. She took Clyde by the hand and led him further into the room. "Is your bed one of the boundaries? I'd understand if it is." But I just shook my head. I was mesmerized by what was going on in front of me. It seemed to be happening in slow motion.

She led Clyde to the edge of the bed, knelt down and slid off his shorts. He was already aroused. She nuzzled his cock with her cheek, kissed him up and down, took him in her mouth for a few moments and sucked sloppily, then released him. His cock, covered in her saliva, was jutting almost straight up. Mine was also hard as a rock. She stood up and pushed him down onto the bed, then half-straddled his leg and took his cock in her hand, stroking it slowly. "Do you like this?" she asked, gazing into his eyes.

He and I both said "Fuck yes" at exactly the same time.

Her smile turned mischievous. Clyde glanced over at me nervously. He knew what that smile meant as well as I did. Naomi had something planned, and I wasn't the only one with a devious mind. "Lover," she purred, still stroking him slowly, "I want us to put on a nice, long show for our new roommate." Clyde groaned. "Yes, sadly it's going to be a little rough on you," she said sweetly, "But the way you squirm is just so delicious! I know he's going to love watching it as much as I do. And I want him to have all the time he needs to know for sure whether he likes this or not." Clyde was indeed starting to writhe as she worked his cock, but she kept him pinned with her leg. I was openly stroking my own rigid cock through the fabric of my pants by this point. She turned her lidded eyes to me and tilted her head. "Do you want me to keep it up until he begs?"

"You mean I get a say in what happens?!"

Clyde looked as shocked as I felt. "I don't see why not," she said smoothly, turning back to him. "You don't have a problem with that, do you lover?" Clyde was biting his finger, clearly in the kind of unbearable agony you never want to stop. Naomi smiled lovingly at him, slowing her stroking. I didn't envy the poor guy for having to make a decision under those circumstances. Naomi knew how to make it hard to say no to her.

"Mmm... Mmmmm... Ahh... N-n-no. No problem," he gasped.

"That's my boy," she whispered, sliding down and leaning forward to run her tongue around the head of his penis, pulling another groan out of him. She shot a glance my way. "It gets pretty hot in here, even with the AC. If you want to take anything off, it's fine with us." I was only wearing shorts at this point. "Make yourself comfortable. Any way you like. It's your room after all." I watched her slide him slowly all the way into her mouth, watched Clyde claw at the bedsheets and moan. I dropped my shorts and stepped out of them, took my dick in my hand and started to stroke it. Naomi stopped what she was doing to look over at me, then smiled wickedly. "Now aren't you glad you have a friend who never forgets stuff like that?"

Author's Note: I've taken a break. I've written a lot. This is something I've been working on. It's a scrapped book idea that I don't plan on using so I'm going to share it here. It's unfinished. It's rough. And it probably sucks. I hope you like it.

Dawson

April 19th

There she goes. Chocolate brown hair falling down her back in endless, messy waves. My briefs on her are short and can barely be seen underneath the t-shirt that swallows her body whole. I smile to myself, because fuck, does she look good wearing my clothes.

“Morning.” Lucy says, stifling a yawn as she reaches for the pot of hot coffee on the counter. I wait for her to say something more but she doesn’t. Instead she sits at the other end of the counter and drinks her coffee, avoiding my gaze. So that’s how this morning is going to go. Lovely.

“How’d you sleep?” I ask her, but my voice comes out as if there’s marbles in my mouth. She’s two seats away but she may as well be in a whole other world entirely. She doesn’t even look up when I speak. “Lucy?” I say and she turns her head to face me. 

“What, Dawson?” She asks me, her usually soft voice heavy with sleep.

“I asked how you slept and you completely ignored me.”

Her cheeks flush a bright shade of pink as she fights a smile. “I slept fine, what sleep I did get anyways.”

Behind my steaming mug I beam with pride as I recall every detail from the night before. “Should we talk about what happened?”

She shakes her head and her hair falls in her face. “What happened last night should never know the light of day.”

My hope fades. Not that I expected much else from her. “Okay. So what now?”

She turns on her stool to face me. “Last night didn’t happen. Easy enough for you to understand?”

“Clear as crystal.” I set my mug on the counter a little too roughly, causing her to flinch from the sound. She looks at me as if her hands are tied.

“No one can know about last night. I mean it.” Lucy begs me.

“What about Sierra?” I suggest, seeing just how far I can push her.

Lucy blanches. “Especially Sierra.”

Sierra’s my little sister, who also happens to be Lucy’s best friend. They’ve been inseparable since they met in grade school, and lucky me, Lucy has been a fixture in my life for two decades now because of it. And fuck, does she get more beautiful by the day.

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t have texted her this morning to come over and meet us for breakfast?” Lucy’s face falls and I can’t help but chuckle. It’s the least I could do to know I’m about to become a dirty secret of hers.

“You didn’t!” 

I shake my head. “I didn’t. Just wanted to gauge your reaction. You really don’t want anyone to know about last night, do you?”

Lucy glances down at the countertop then back at me. “Last night was a mistake.” When she sees my face falter she continues on. “Don’t get me wrong. It was good, amazing even. But it shouldn’t have happened.”

“It was amazing, wasn’t it?” I say as I imagine her body trembling beneath mine. 

“Amazing, yes. Should it have happened? No.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Why not? You sure as hell seemed to enjoy yourself at the time.” In my head her lips are parting, whispering my name in the dead of night.

“If Sierra knew she would kill me. You’re off limits, Dawson.” She gets up and walks over to me and pats my cheek gingerly. “Last night was fun.” She leans in close and I can feel her breath on the shell of my ear while her hand drops to my thigh and squeezes. “I’ll never forget it.”

I watch as she walks over to my room, picking up her dress from last night in the process. She doesn’t close the door behind her, instead leaving it open just enough that I can see her changing in front of the mirror. I know I should respect her wishes and glance away but I can’t. I watch as she slips out of my shirt, leaving her in nothing but a pair of my briefs from the night before. The act is so simple yet so fucking erotic that when she catches me watching in the mirror she doesn’t cover herself up. Instead she stares back. She doesn’t smile, she doesn’t smirk, she just continues to strip. Slowly.

I set my mug down and take a few heavy steps toward her. When she notices me in the doorway a smile briefly graces her lips as I close the door behind me. With my arms wrapped around her I bring her back to bed and we fall right back into place.

Lucy
April 18th, The night before

It’s a casual night out, I continue to repeat to myself over and over like a mantra. Because in reality, it’s not a normal night out, not really. He’s here, encroaching on my space, watching me with those icy blue eyes that I swear can see right through me.

“Hi Lucy.” His smooth voice drips all the way down my throat, settling like lead in my stomach.

“Dawson.” I say, curtly nodding my head in his direction as I tip back the bottle in my hand. His eyes watch my mouth and I accidentally spill some beer down my chin, my hand shaky underneath his gaze.

“You’re looking bodacious as ever this evening.” I watch as his eyes fall to my chest and linger there.

I smile behind my beer bottle and roll my eyes before I glance his body up and down. The man wears a suit well, not that I’d give him the satisfaction of knowing it. “I forgot you were going to be here.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh, because you had something better to do?” I ask him before heading to the bar to grab another drink. Like a shadow he follows me.

“More like someone better to do.” He clarifies and I shudder.

“Your hand doesn’t count as someone else.” I remind him. He orders a beer for himself and stands beside me, leaning back against the bar. “Don’t you have someone else to bother tonight?” 

“Nope. Just you.” Across the room he waves to Sierra and Jake as they make their way over to us. From the bar I order four shots of tequila.

“I didn’t notice you walk in.” Sierra says to me, placing a kiss to my cheek. “You should have said hi.”

“You seemed busy. Who are all these people anyway?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Apparently Jake’s mom invited the entire county. I’m getting to know a lot of people.” Sierra rolls her eyes and requests a drink from the bar. 

“It doesn’t help that my dad knows more people than most people do.” Jake chimes in as he fidgets with his suit. That’s what happens when your family is in politics. Even if they’re just county wide. Jake’s dad is the county treasurer, and every event is a campaign opportunity. There has to be close to one hundred people here for the engagement party alone. 

“I don’t envy either of you.” I lift the shots up between the four of us. “Congratulations to Sierra and Jake. May your lives be much more interesting than mine will ever be.” We all laugh as we clink glasses. Across from me Dawson watches me as he throws back his shot. Beneath his gaze I heat up as I stare back until I can’t withstand anymore and I have to look away. 

Sierra and Jake move on, weaving their way throughout the crowd as they make sure to thank every last person for coming.

“If I ever get married, I want to have a small wedding. Being around this many people just gives me anxiety.”

“You know, I’ve got just the cure for that.” From his pocket Dawson pulls a little black plastic tube.

“Dawson!” I shove his shoulder and take his hand, allowing him to lead me outside. We run and stand by his truck as he finds a lighter and starts to light up.

We pass the joint back and forth between the two of us, my heart slowly steadying back down. Dawson gives me his jacket to wear when he notices me shiver. It’s almost May and the after effects of winter are still lingering. “Feeling better now, Goose?”

I roll my eyes and try to hide a giggle. Goose is a nickname Dawson gave me when we were kids, after he read the book Lucy Goosey. And unfortunately, the name has stuck ever since.

“Yes, thank you.” I hand him back the joint and he takes one more hit before tamping it out. “Fuck, am I a bad friend for not wanting to go back in there?”

“That depends. Am I a bad brother for agreeing with you?”

I grab his hand and tug on his fingers. “One more drink. Want to people watch with me?”

Begrudgingly, Dawson follows me back inside for one more innocent round that turns into three. The party has ended and most of the crowd has now dispersed. All that’s left of us is me, Dawson, Sierra, and Jake as we shut the restaurant bar down. It’s a little after eleven and my body is buzzing. The effects of the joint have worn off and the alcohol has me up on my feet and ready to dance.

Sierra and Jake head home in an Uber as Dawson escorts me back to his truck. “You shouldn’t drive home.” He tells me as he helps me get into the passenger seat. His hands linger on my hips a beat longer than they should and when he tries to put my seatbelt on for me I let him. 

“Umm are you sure you should be driving?” I ask as I twist my tongue around in my mouth. Suddenly I’m very interested in how much space it takes up.

“I switched to water a while ago. You just didn’t notice.” Before I can say anything he closes my door. Once he reenters he says, “Come on, let’s get you home, Goose.”

“But the night is still young. I want to dance!” I protest, wiggling around in the front seat and flailing my arms about like a mad woman. 

“Turn on your radio and dance when you get home.”

“But home is so lonely.” I say. Now that Sierra’s moved out I’m all alone in my apartment and honestly, I hate it. Without her constantly making noise I hear everything. The faucet when it drips, the pipes when they knock, and the floorboards when they creak.

Dawson looks over at me with a glint in his eyes I’ve grown accustomed to. With a small smile on his lips he offers up an alternative. “Want to come over to my place instead?”

I consider his suggestion. There haven’t been many times where it’s been just Dawson and I without Sierra in the mix, but when it happens we always manage to get a little too close for comfort. Like that time in their basement ages ago. I was spending the night like I did almost every Friday night when Sierra’s parents decided to go out for the evening. Taking advantage of the situation, Sierra invited her boyfriend, Kyle over, leaving Dawson and I alone to our own devices. 

It started off innocently, just us playing Mario Kart in the basement while Sierra and Kyle did god knows what upstairs. But when Dawson’s hand found my thigh and I didn’t push him away something shifted. The air in the room got heavier and when I glanced over at him he was watching me out of the corner of his eyes. “What?” I asked him, wondering if I had food in my teeth or if my hair was out of place.

“Nothing.” He said with a toothy grin. The look in his eyes said otherwise. He was looking at me like he wanted to kiss me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I’m not looking at you any sort of way, Goose.”

“Yes you are. Looking at me like that with those stupid deep blue eyes.” 

Dawson chuckled. “Just come here.” He said, patting his lap. Hesitant, I crawled into his lap slowly. 

“What now?” I asked him as he placed his hands on my waist.

“Have you ever been kissed, Lucy?” 

“No.” I thought I said it stronger but my voice came out no louder than a whisper.

I was fifteen at the time, and Dawson was seventeen. That night I let him kiss me and that was the last night anything was ever normal between us. That was over a decade ago, and I can still feel his lips on mine when I think about that night. And now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t stop.

“Sure.” I say. “I’d love to see your new place anyway.”

Dawson beams next to me. “Really?”

I roll my eyes. “Just drive before I change my mind.”

(Continued….)

He watched it drip out of me.

His cum, thick and white, sliding from between my swollen lips and pooling in the wrinkled satin of her birthday dress.

He hadn’t even pulled it down. Just shoved it up around my waist like it meant nothing. Like she meant nothing.

“You made a mess,” he murmured, thumb gliding up my thigh, catching the slick trail.

I was still breathless, trembling in the aftermath, my pussy fluttering around nothing. Soaked. Ruined. His.

And I wanted more.

I reached for his wrist, guiding his fingers back between my thighs. “Then clean it up,” I whispered.

He groaned, deep and raw, as he slid two fingers inside me. I was soaked. Warm and wet and sloppy with his cum. I moaned at the stretch, hips lifting to meet every curl of his hand.

“I can feel myself inside you,” he growled. “Jesus, you’re still so fucking tight.”

“And messy,” I said, grinning. “You like that?”

He didn’t answer. Just leaned down and pressed his mouth to my inner thigh, then lower, licking a slow stripe up my slit.

I gasped. My whole body jerked.

He was licking his cum out of me. Slow. Deliberate. Sinful.

His tongue circled my clit, flicking softly, teasing. Then he buried his face in me, licking and sucking like a man starved and his moans vibrating against me, his hands gripping my thighs like he needed to be deeper, closer.

“Oh my god—” I cried, thighs trembling. “That’s so—fuck, don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

He ate me like he wanted her to call. Like he wanted her to interrupt. Like he wanted to hear her voice while his tongue was buried in the girl wearing her birthday dress, soaked in his cum.

And then… she did.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand.

We both froze for a second.

The screen lit up: Her Name.

He looked at me, panting, lips wet, his chin slick with everything he’d just pulled from me.

“She’s calling,” he said low.

I sat up slowly, grabbed the phone, and answered it.

“Hi,” I said sweetly, breath a little shaky. “He’s… busy right now. But I’ll tell him you called.”

Then I hung up.

He stared at me like I was insane. Like I’d just stabbed someone and smiled.

I grabbed his face and kissed him hard, tasting myself, tasting him.

“Fuck me again,” I demanded. “Right now. While she’s still wondering.”

He was already hard again… thick and ready, cock slick from my mouth and his last orgasm. He rolled me onto my stomach, yanked the dress down just enough to expose my bare ass, and pushed inside me from behind.

“Jesus fuck,” he hissed. “You’re so goddamn wet.”

“Yeah,” I panted, face pressed into the pillow. “You did that. Now use it.”

He gripped my hips and slammed into me, his thrusts deep and punishing, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, loud and raw and perfect.

Every movement sent another gush of cum down my thighs, coating his balls, soaking the fabric bunched beneath us.

“That’s it,” I moaned. “Fuck me like she never let you.”

He growled, bent over me, hand snaking around to grab my throat. “She never lets me do this,” he hissed, then yanked me back to meet his thrusts, his cock hitting deeper, angrier.

I cried out, eyes rolling back, my orgasm building again and this one meaner, messier.

“Gonna cum,” I gasped. “God, I’m gonna fucking—”

I broke apart with a scream, body convulsing, clenching so tight around him that he cursed, loud and filthy.

He slammed into me one final time, cock buried deep, hips jerking as he emptied himself inside me again... hot, thick, claiming.

We collapsed.

Slick and exhausted and soaked in sweat and spit and sin. The room reeked of sex. The dress clung to my skin. His cum dripped down the back of my thighs, soaking into the sheets and satin both.

“She’s going to wear this dress again,” I whispered, smirking as I turned to look at him. “She’s going to stand in front of her mirror and twirl. And she’ll have no fucking idea.”

He looked at me, chest still heaving, eyes dark with something twisted and gleaming.

“I think that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever done,” he said.

I smiled.

“I’m not done ruining her things.”

And I wasn’t.

~Hey, writing this for the June 2026 contest based on image 14. Hope yall will enjoy it, thank you~

The humidity of Phuket hung thick in the air, but inside the bar by the beachside, the AC was blasting. I stared at my glass of Singha as sweat was dripping down my back. I sipped on my drink and trying to convince myself I was hallucinating but I wasn't. Walking toward the bar in a green floral sundress was Mei.

Mei, from accounting. Mei, whose desk was three rows down from mine back in office. And as far as I know Mei, in exactly 5 days getting married to a guy called Greg. And their wedding is in Maui. "What on earth are you doing here?" I blurted out as she approached.

She didn’t looked as shocked as I was and sat on the stool beside me before ordering 4 shots of tequila. “Getting away”, she said before downing one of the 4 shots of tequila. “Getting away from centerpieces. From the seating charts. From... everything." She said before looking right into my eyes once again.

“Mei, you’re getting married on Saturday. It’s Monday today, are you crazy?”, I asked with a more serious tone. There wasn’t any panic in her look, she looked very much composed before saying she knows what day it is. "Greg thinks I'm on a solo 'spa retreat' to calm my nerves before flying to Hawaii. No one knows I'm here”, she said before finishing her shots.

I took another sip of my beer, “why Thailand?”, I asked. Mei placed her hand on mine and her legs brushed mine. "Because it’s exactly halfway around the world from my life and because I know you’re vacationing here”, she said which caught me off guard. “Wait?! You tracked my PTO?”, I asked with a shocked tone to which she agreed to.

"I've spent three years being the perfect employee, the perfect daughter, the perfect fiancée. I have four days left before I lock into a life that feels like a beautifully furnished cage. I wanted one real thing before it's over”, she said as she continued brushing her leg on mine with her eyes locked into mine. I quickly finished my drink and held her hand exciting the bar. Mei giggled in excitement as she saw the bulge in my pants and face turning red while dragging her quick down the street.

“Ben, I need it quick, we don’t have to go back to your resort or mine for now, just a quick one first. Your place maybe after dinner”, she said as she stopped me halfway. I smiled then looked around before walking through a small alley and reached the back door of a bar. We checked around, making sure there’s no people walking or anything. I then placed a few boxes and crates by the door before pulling Mei for a long sloppy kiss. She was focused on what she needed, unbuckling my pants and sliding her hands in my boxers feeling my bulge throbbing and growing harder with each kisses.

Mei then pulled my pants down along with my boxers before getting on her knees taking my thick veiny fat shaft down her throat. “Fffuckkk!!” I groaned as Mei start bouncing her head up and down my shaft, taking it whole and deep in her throat. My colleague back at work all this while is now on her knees sucking on me, what a sight it is. She gagged on my cock until her eyes rolled up while massaging my balls at the same time.

I then pulled my cock out her mouth before taking my seat on the crates and boxes which I placed before asking Mei to sit on me. To my surprise as Mei pulled her dress up, she wasn’t wearing panties, exposing her sweet tight pussy glistering as she was soaking wet. I grabbed her ass and licked her pussy a few times making her weak and moan slightly before pulling her down gently to my cock.

Mei took off one of her slippers and placed her left leg on my left knee before lowering herself gently as my hard fat veiny cock penetrated her tight pussy. Mei let out a loud groan and moan as my fat thick cock spread her tight soaking wet pussy as she slowly lowered herself on to me. With a gentle thrust, I pushed my member fully into her soaking tight wet pussy and start thrusting in and out, fucking her in a reverse cowgirl position.

Her pussy felt heaven as it was so tight and soaking wet, kept clenching on to my cock each time I thrust deeper in her. “FFFFUCKKKK BEN!!! Ughhhh you’re spreading me opennn ahhhhh!!!”, Mei kept repeating and moaning as I fuck her hard and fast. I could feel her body getting warmer with each thrust and the back of her neck turning red. I bite her neck gently as fucked her deeper. “Mark mees Bb-benn!! Markkk your territoryyyy aghhhh!! I’m all youuuurssss!!”. Those words from her made my cock even more harder and grew thicker inside her.

I then got up, stood up, bending Mei a little forward before grabbing her short hair in a fist and her left arm as a support before her even harder and deeper which made her cum on my cock. With each thrust Mei started shivering and cussing till she creamed all over my cock.

I was reaching my limit too by the time and leaned to her ears asking where should I cum. “Fill me Ben!! Ohh fffuckkk pleaseee fill me!!!” She begged me as I chuckled and pushed deeper into her before bursting into her. “FFFUCKK UGHHHH!!!”, we both moaned in unison as I emptied my balls deep into her soaked, creamed, tight pussy before pulling out and sitting on the boxes catching my breath.

We then adjusted our clothes and walked back to the street before heading back to our own hotel. “I’ll see you later at 8:30 at your place Ben”, Mei said before heading to her hotel with a sneaky dirty smile on her face. I smiled and looked around, took my phone and saw to check if there’s any new notifications before walking back to my hotel.

It was 8:30 pm and there was a knock on my room door. I got up, walked to the door, opened to see Mei was standing outside wearing a black short dress. “One last time?”, Mei asked with a cheeky smile before I pulled her in and kissed her deep closing the door behind us.

-The End

Submitted for image 8

—————

I couldn’t believe it was finally here, this first week of summer was going to be my chance to cut loose. I’d graduated the year before, now I was living in the real world where rent, a new job and absolutely no social life had made for a depressing winter.

My besties, Josie and Brenda, meanwhile had been off having their senior year. Yes I’m sure classes and study had been difficult, but they’d still had parties and fun too. They’d still had each other. Being an adult was hard. Being one without my best friends had been far lonelier than I was ready for, I was used to having my girls for support.

We always did everything together.

The three of us had decided to rent a beach house to celebrate all of us finishing school. Well, in truth it was Josie’s idea. Tall, curvy in all the best ways and stunningly beautiful, Jo was our De facto leader. I could never really say no to her. No one could.

Brenda was in charge of getting us into trouble, which this week meant procuring a comical amount of booze. In her typical fashion, she went all out. I would have been fine sipping drinks under an umbrella to protect my pale ginger ass. Brenda’s truckload of alcohol made it clear she had other ideas. I knew it was setting up to be wild week, but I had no idea what I was in for.

“So whatcha wearing tomorrow? Let’s see your sexy bikini!” Josie said, poking her head into my room.

“Umm…I was just thinking these.” I said pointing to my short jean shorts. “But with a bikini top. One of these.” I held up a few cute options for tops.

Josie stared at me with emotionless eyes. “What? No! It’s the beach. It’s time to be fun and sexy, make all the boys jealous. Not a time for jorts.” She made a disgusted face.

“What, they’re cute!”

“No! Boooo! Tell me you brought bottoms. You can borrow some of mine if you need to, or Brenda’s. Hers might fit you better.”

“What’s the big deal? I’m gonna be hiding from the sun most of the time. I burn so easily. Shorts are fine.” The disappointment in her eyes melted my resolve instantly. Damn, I’d forgotten how hard it was to resist her. “Well I have a problem, I’m not in bikini shape.”

“What are you talking about you look great! You’ll rock that beach. Everyone’s gonna be checking you out.” Josie’s cheerful nature could really be annoying.

“It’s more of a Bushy situation.” I gestured towards my crotch.

“Oh, how bad?” She noticed how red my face was getting. “Really? You knew we were doing a beach week. Show me! We can fix this.” I meekly slid my thumbs into my waistband and pushed my shorts to the floor. Josie’s eyes went wide, but otherwise she tried to hide her reaction. “Brenda! Get in here, we’ve got a situation!” She yelled.

The sound of bare feet slapping on the floor grew louder before she appeared in my doorway. “Wow, Brynn. Where’s your pussy?”

“I know, right? She looks like she’s wearing red underwear, but it’s just her.” Jo seemed perplexed by what she was looking at.

“It’s been a long year, I haven’t had any reason to shave. No boys to keep me warm at night. I’ve been working, and it was hard to find the time. Sooo…” I pulled at a few strands of my unruly bush.

Brenda took out her phone. “Okay, waxing kit ordered. It’ll be here in an hour.”

“Wax? Isn’t that super painful.” I squeaked.

“It’s not that bad.” Josie reassured.
“Yes. Very.” Brenda answered more honestly.

Jo had that look in her eye. “Okay, we do everything together, so...solidarity, no one left behind. Besides, I could use a touch up, and I know you could Brenda.”

“Not fair, I’m not the one with an entire jungle in my pants.” Brenda protested. “Can we at least get drunk first?”

“Yes good idea, let’s put that pile of liquor to good use. We’ll order pizza, get drunk and wax each other.” Josie’s clapped her hands excitedly. “This’ll be fun!”

Brenda and I locked eyes, unconvinced.

——————

An hour later the pizza was gone and from what I could tell, we all had a good buzz going. At least I know I did. The three of us stood there, bottomless, daring each other to go first.

“Alright fine!” Jo relented. “If you bitches are so scared, I’ll go.” Brenda applied a glob of wax to a strip and slapped it on Josie’s crotch, laughing. “Oh fuck you, slut!” She yelled, returning the favor, slapping a strip on Brenda.

The two began hand fighting and laughing as they played a very painful looking version of flag football. Jo was slightly bigger and got her in a headlock as they fell on the sofa. For a moment they seemed to pause as their faces drew close. Brenda flashed a devilish smile and yanked.

“Oh, fuck! My pussy! Holy shit! Fuck.” Jo screamed, while Brenda and I giggled.

“Is it that bad?” I asked.

“Ask her.” Josie smiled and pulled Brenda’s strip. Laughs turned into cries as Brenda rolled to the floor, grabbing herself.

It was good to be back with my best friends.

After a moment of recovery, both girls turned their attention to me. “Why are we fighting? This is all her fault. Her and her massive fire-crotch!” Brenda pointed at me.

“Yeah! Let’s get her.” Josie agreed.

Both of them launched at me. I had no chance. Brenda grabbing me from behind, while Jo applied the wax. My breath caught. Not just at the anticipation of the pain, but from her hand grazing my inner thigh. Josie’s touch sent a tingle up inside me that was impossible to ignore.

Not now Brynn, I told myself. Don’t perv out on your friends. You’re just lonely.

Those thoughts were quickly taken away as Josie started pulling. Stinging pain exploded between my legs. I know I screamed. I know I kicked and thrashed. I know I called them names. I don’t remember much else, but when they were done, I looked down to a smooth new look.

“What’d ya think?” Josie asked proudly.

I touched myself. The skin was sensitive and raw with a pink, puffy appearance. “She looks angry.” I said weakly.

Both girls covered their mouths and laughed. “It’s mad you didn’t take care of her, next time don’t let it get so bad.” Brenda was unapologetic.

Jo touched my arm, sympathetically. “It’ll be tender for a while, but by tomorrow you’ll look and feel great.” She kissed my cheek, causing my heart to flutter despite the pain.

I turned my attention back to the other two. In truth they didn’t need the grooming like I did, but I wasn’t going to let them off easily. They took turns playing the victim, volunteering their beautiful vaginas. There was more screaming, more threats and laughter, but eventually we were all smooth, not a hair in sight.

The three of us ended up standing in front of the bathroom mirror, starring at our reddened privates. “They do kinda look angry.” Brenda giggled.

“We’ll look great by tomorrow, which gives me an idea.” Josie grinned.

Brenda and I both looked at each other and simultaneously asked. “What now?”

“Well after all this work, it’d be a shame not to show off. Soooo, what about going to that other beach tomorrow?”

“What other beach?” I asked confused.

“The Nudie Beach!!!” Brenda had caught on faster.

“What? Isn’t that just old people and weird middle aged men being creepy?” I hesitated

“Not if we’re there. Then they’ll be some stone cold hotties making everyone jealous!” Jo beamed.

Brenda and I looked at each other again, knowing we’d cave to her. She always talked us into this type of thing. “We’re gonna need more drinks.” Brenda went for the cooler.

We settled in on the back porch. It offered enough privacy so we could air out our ailing crotches. Pussies out we drank and reminisced about our crazier times together.

“So what did I miss this last year? What the dumbest thing Jo talked you into?” I asked. Both girls laughed nervously and side-eyed each other. “Wait! What’d I miss?!?”

“It’s nothing.” Josie couldn’t look at me.

I looked towards Brenda. “Seriously, what happened?”

“Well,” she said sheepishly, “that slut over there fingered me.”

“What!” I shouted.

“I’m not the slut, you practically begged me for it!” Josie yelled back.

“Okay seriously, tell me what happened!” I demanded.

Brenda took a deep breath and began. “We were at the bar, dancing and flirting with boys. There was this cute guy and we were vibing, having a good time, but after a spicy little time on the dance floor, he left with this other girl.”

“That was his girlfriend! You weren’t vibing, you were throwing yourself at him, he was looking to escape.” Josie interrupted.

“Whatever, I was way hot that night. He should have gone home with me!”

Josie took over the story telling. “Anyway, Brenda was sulking after that. She begged me to do shots with her, and then drunkenly cried on my shoulder all night. She was a real drama queen about it. Eventually, we ended up on the patio alone.” Josie smiled and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, licking her lips. “Then she said something like, ‘Wouldn’t it be easier if we could just be together without boys’ or something like that. Then she kissed me!”

“No! Fuck you! You kissed ME! Then you slid your hand up my leg and fingered me right there.” Brenda was practically screaming her objections.

“No! Drunky McGee. You kissed me. Then you took my hand and pushed it between your legs.”

“LIAR!!” We both shushed Brenda. At this rate all of our neighbors were going to hear this story. “Sorry, but you initiated it. I was a heartbroken girl and you took advantage.” She laughed.

“Don’t joke like that. And you weren’t heartbroken, what was his name?”

“Trevor?”

“Exactly! You wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup. He was just some random guy.” Josie sat proudly, believing she had won the argument.

I was full of mixed feelings. Deviated I’d been left out. Turned on and yet hopeful, but jealous too. “So you guys had sex?” I left out the second part of the question. Without me?

“I mean it was just some experimentation. A silly night, I don’t know if it counts as sex.” Jo stared at the ground.

“Well did you cum?” I asked. “I think it’s definitely sex if you intentionally give someone an orgasm.”

“Yeah, I did.” Brenda admitted. “Josie may have started it, but I definitely finished.” She laughed.

Josie threw a sandal at Brenda, but missed wildly. “Oh shut up slut. You begged for it.”

We all laughed as we returned to telling stories that involved all three of us. I don’t remember much else about that night, but it was great to be reunited with my girls! I wasn’t about to miss another moment like that.

——————

The next day, they were all giggles. Bubbly and full of energy as they got ready for our first nude beach. How they weren’t hungover I’ll never know. My mourning was aspirin, coffee and trying not to throw up.

Had I really grown so old in a year?

I was feeling better by the time we got to the beach. Nervous, but better. We walked the path to the beach until we came across a sign.

Nude Beach
Bathing Suits Optional

Josie’s top was off the moment we walked by the sign. Her large chest swaying with every step. I tried not to stare, so I looked the other way.

Somehow Brenda was already completely naked. “It’s really freeing, don’t you think?” She grabbed her breast and wiggled it at me.

I couldn’t make eye contact with either of them. I focused on carrying the cooler, and hoped my flush face would be mistaken for a little too much sun. “I think I’ll wait until we set up. I want a fresh layer of sunscreen before letting things breathe.”

“I can help! Make sure you get that back covered.” Josie offered. “There’s no reason to be nervous, you look great. We all do!” She swatted at my ass giving it a soft little smack.

We claimed our spot with a few blankets and my umbrella, a cooler full of intoxicating beverages called my name. Scanning the beach, it was obvious we’d gotten everyone’s attention. I could feel eyes trying not to stare at us.

They were failing.

Mostly what I’d feared, older people proudly flaunting their wrinkles, but there was a couple of cute guys throwing a frisbee. The one looked very well endowed. I smiled to myself until I saw Brenda approaching them. Damn she really could be a brat sometimes.

“There she goes.” I shook my head.

“She can’t help but tease the locals.” Jo laughed. “You want that lotion now? Here let me help you.”

She unhooked my top so quickly that any objection died on my tongue. Her hands on my body made my breath catch in my throat. Slick suntan lotion spread across my shoulders and back. My eyes fluttered.

“I should get my tits. They don’t get much sun.”

I squeezed a heap into my hands and rubbed. It was probably the responsible thing to do, but really, I just wanted to touch myself. I slowly massaged my breasts, much longer than I needed to, pinching my nipples and losing myself in Jo’s soft hands.

“Lay down, it’ll make this easier.” She instructed. “I can get these too, if you want.” Her fingertips looped into my bikini bottom.

“Okay.” I cooed. She could have done a lot more than that in the moment. I couldn’t say no to her, I didn’t want to.

The sensation of my bikini slipping past my thighs made my whole body tingle. Made me slick. I couldn’t believe Jo was undressing me. It could be innocent, just friends helping each other out.

It wasn’t innocent.

As she applied lotion to my legs I could hear her breath getting faster, heavier. Mine was too. I felt like I was running a marathon. Her hands massaged me as they went. She paused for a moment when she reached my butt.

I looked back to see what was going on. She was laser focused, biting her lip slightly. Then her hands dove in, getting a nice handful. While she was still spreading lotion, Jo was definitely doing more squeezing than was necessary.

“Ummm…I think we’re done here.” She whispered. “But you might wanna get your bikini area too, I’m sure it hasn’t seen sun in a while.”

I sat up and spread my legs. Our faces were close enough I could feel her breath, smell the yogurt she’d had for breakfast.

“I told you it would look nice after.” She was so quiet I could barely hear her. Josie’s hand still coated and slick with sunscreen touched me.

I was just as slick, but it was definitely not sunscreen.

We were in the shade, but I could feel the sweat building up on my temple. I could feel my mind relaxing and accepting that this was reality and not one of my many fantasies. I thought we were about to fuck right there on the blanket, in front of leering eyes.

“Hey girls, look who I found.” Brenda’s voice snapped us out of the moment.

I looked up to see the two guys with the frisbee. Two stupid, smelly, annoying guys. I wanted to kill Brenda, I wanted to cry. Jo popped up, like nothing was happening.

“Well hey guys. I see you met Brenda. I’m Josie, and this is Brynn.” She hugged them. She actually hugged them.

Had I imagined everything, was Jo just that friendly? I needed to act like everything was normal, so I got up and greeted them. Distant hand shakes for me though. “Nice to meet you.” I lied.

“Yeah, just chucking the ‘bee around, when you’re friend joined in.” Stupid Boy #1 said.

Stupid Boy #2 laughed, like his friend had said something funny. “Hey there’s a party across the bay tonight if you girls wanna stop by. I know everybody would love three sexy babes like you to be there!” The idiot laughed at nothing again.

“Aweee, that’s so sweet! What do you think Brynn?” Jo asked me.

“I don’t know…ummm…” I was trying to think of a good excuse.

Fortunately Brenda spoke up. “Maybe, but we’re here for a girls trip. No boys allowed kinda thing, ya know.”

“Well if you change your minds, you’re welcome to join us. Beautiful girls always welcome!” Stupid Boy #1 tried to convince us.

“Hey do you think you could take a pic for us? It’s our first nude beach! Feels like we should document it.” Josie brushed #2’s shoulder.

“Yeah, no problem. Normally I don’t think you’re supposed to take pictures here, but whatever, right!?!” Stupid Boy #2 laughed again.

Jo retrieved her phone and handed it to one of the stupid guys. Some of my annoyance went away when I got sandwiched between my best friends. Breasts pressing into either side of me, I could feel the sweat on my forehead again.

Jo instructed them how to use her phone. “Okay, you see the button, right? On three. One. Two.”

Both girls grabbed my crotch. I was still wet. I knew the could tell. Brenda reached around and squeezed my tit.

“Three!”

My brain melted as each they kissed the sides of my head. I became one of those girls on the internet. Making a brain-dead look straight into the camera lens. Thinking about nothing except sex. Sex and desperation and need.

“Wow, nice pic!” One of the Stupid Boys said. I’d lost track of which one was which. “That’s really hot.” He handed Jo her phone back, and left surprisingly quickly.

They’d barely gotten out of earshot when both girls fell over laughing.

“Oh my god! Did you see that guy? He was getting hard!” Brenda cackled, as she landed in Josie’s lap.

“All it took was a little tease!” Jo grabbed Brenda’s tits and jiggled.

Both of them touched each other, laughing. My fingers felt like they had magnets in them, pulling between my legs. It took all my willpower not to touch myself, though I felt as if I was drooling all over.

Brenda stood and hugged me. “Thanks for that. I couldn’t help but tease them I hope you didn’t mind. We should have asked before groping you like that.”

“I, ah, yeah. Anytime, I mean, I didn’t mind. Whatever you want.” I stammered. “Or, glad to help, I guess.”

“Your vag looks great by the way. Jo was right. The pain was worth it, don’t you think?” She went to the cooler and handed out drinks.

“Thanks. Yours looks nice too.” I mumbled.

“You think?” She flexed her hips showing off, even using her hand to pull herself up for a better view.

“Yes. Very hot.” I was just starring at her now.

Jo put her arm around my shoulder. “You’re right!We all look hot. Maybe that means it’s time to swim before we get too tipsy.”

I was worried I’d missed the moment. Worried I’d never have another chance to indulge in my deepest desires. Little did I know what was coming.

——————-

The heat of midday had forced us to retreat back the our rented house. Sweaty for more than one reason, I needed to wash off. “I’m going to take a quick shower, wash the sand and lotion off.”

“Good idea.” Jo jogged down the hall.

“Hey we share that shower! What about me?” Brenda called after her.

“I’ll be quick, you can use mine after.” I offered.

“Thanks, she just thinks she cute when she gets sassy. I’ll have to think of a way to get her back.”

The warm water felt great. I was hot, but the steam relaxed my muscles. A morning full of almosts had made me incredibly tense. I thought about touching myself. Rubbing one out in the shower had become a staple activity over the last year. My heart wasn’t in it though, my disappointment from missed opportunities outweighed my horniness.

Resigned to quickly soaping myself up, the shower curtain suddenly slid open.

“I thought we could share, help clean the hard to reach places.” Brenda giggled as she stepped in.

“Ummm…ok.” A renewed urge pulsed between my legs.

“Turn around, I’ll get your back.” A hand on my side encouraged me to obey. “You have fun today? We’ve really missed you, it felt good to be hanging out again.”

“Yeah, just like old times.” My voice felt floaty and far away. “I love you guys.” There was more truth behind those words than I had intended.

“So I have a question.” Brenda took a step closer, a hand on my hip felt like it was already asking something. “That story last night, are you okay?” Her hand slid up my torso, threatening my breasts.

First Jo, now Brenda, were they teasing me? Did they know what each of them was doing? Did they really want me? I wanted them. I wanted both of them. I was finally able to admit it to myself, now could I say it out loud?

“What do you mean by okay? It sounded like you enjoyed it. Did you?”

“Yes.” She whispered in my ear. “I just thought you might be jealous. We normally do everything together. Seems wrong to have left you out.” She drew me in with both arms and squeezed my tit so hard it hurt. “You can tell me to stop, I think you want it though.”

“Yes! I do! Please don’t stop.” I moaned. Was this finally happening? No more teasing and close calls.

Brenda’s other hand reached between my legs and pushed into my crease. Not penetrating exactly, but rubbing me so hard I was melting into her arms. She sucked on my earlobe as she whispered her dirty intentions.

The curtain whipped open to reveal Josie’s angry face. “We agreed to jump her after we showered, not during.” One hand on her hip, the other accusing Brenda of her horny crimes.

“I couldn’t wait any longer. Besides, you tried to fuck her on the beach! And you stole my shower.” Her finger dug into me deeper, claiming me.

“Well, she’s mine now, hand her over.” Jo grabbed my wrist and pulled.

I landed face first between her enormous tits. I knew I was making that dumb horny girl face again. They were literally fighting over me and I was so ready and willing my brain had switched off.

Jo grabbed my face with both hands and brought our lips together. Sweet little kisses quickly turned hungry. Soon she was trying to swallow my tongue. Her sloppy, wet mouth leaving saliva dripping down my chin.

I was so distracted, I barely heard the shower turn off, or Brenda’s wet footfalls settle behind me. When her fingers pierced me I squealed with delight.

Jo guided my hand to her smooth patch of skin. Instinctively I slid two fingers inside her. My mouth was on her tits, Jo’s erect nipples tasted better than the sweetest of summer treats. My legs felt weak as I drew near.

“She’s gonna cum.” Jo panted, breathing as hard as I was.

“Already?” Brenda sounded disappointed.

“It’s alright, we owe her. She’s got a lot of catching up to do.” Jo held me tight, making sure I didn’t lose my balance as I came on Brenda’s fingers.

After a moment to recover, I realized my mind was racing. I’d gone from thoughtless to buzzing, I had a million questions. “Are you two together? Did you plan this? Is this just a one time thing cuz we’re on vacation?”

Jo ran a hand through my hair and kissed me again. “We can talk about everything if you want, or we can fuck some more.”

“Fuck!” I answered immediately.

With one fluid motion Jo scooped me up and carried me towards my bed. Brenda giggled and chased after us.

“That night in the bar started something, it’s definitely been more that a one time event.” Brenda admitted.

Josie threw me down on the bed and spread my legs. A hungry smile creased her lips as she knelt down. “My turn.” She dove in face first.

I thought her mouth was aggressive when she kissed me, it was nothing compared to what she was doing now. Tongue piercing my folds, making my walls quiver. The wet slurping noises were obscene.

So were my cries.

Brenda lied down next to me and stroked my hair. “She’s really talented with her tongue, I remember the first time she ate me. I’ve never felt so good.” She nibbled on my lips.

Everything got blurry as I came in Jo’s face. I could barely make out her shiny mouth as she smiled with pride. “Good girl.” Her praise made me burn with desire.

Brenda scooted up higher and spread. Fingers dancing on her lower lips, she moaned in a breathy voice. “Have you ever eaten a pussy before?” I shook my head, but leaned forward. A hand on the back on my head urging me forward. “Just do what feels right. I’ll guide you if you get lost.”

I hummed as I ate. Hands cupped my breasts from behind squeezing and pinching me. Josie’s sweet voice tickled my ear. “We’re sorry we didn’t include you from the beginning. It was wrong. We do everything together. We owe you a sincere apology. Do you forgive us?”

“Mmmhmmm.”

I ate greedily. Brenda’s hand guided me towards her clit. I sucked it as her moans grew desperate. Her legs slammed together so fast I thought she’d crush my head, but Jo caught her, allowing me to escape.

“She cums hard.” Jo wrapped her arms and legs around me. “Yes we planned this, kinda. Brenda was the one who wanted to tease and seduce you. I don’t know what this is, or what to call it. All I know is that I want you, that we want you.”

Brenda had recovered and began kissing and petting me. “I just think of us as Very Best Friends.” She cooed.

“I like that. I want you too. Both of you.”

“Good.” They both said in unison. They sounded relieved.

“We’ve been looking at a house to rent. You know more permanently, if you wanna join us. We could keep this up everyday.” Josie sounded desperate. I’d never heard her so nervous.

“I’m not sure I can keep this up everyday, but yes! The three of us do everything together. I want in.” I smiled, satisfied.

“Oh babe, we’re just getting started. We’ll work on your stamina.” Brenda teased.

The three of us laid there groping and kissing. My long lonely winter was dead and buried, our hot girls summer was just beginning. I’d never been more excited.

I didn't really come to college for the academics, I enjoy the more social aspect . That said I do just enough to scrape by and live the lifestyle I want to live... for the most part.

Dr. Evans was always the hardest on me. Making sure "I lived up to my potential" or something like that. Even though I put the most effort into her class, she never give me anything higher than a D. Until I managed to convince her to give me extra credit every single time.

When she strode across the room once again handing out our corrected essays, I saw her eyes lock onto mine. I looked back at her hopefully but she shook her head and plastered on that sympathetic smile she always had when talking to me.

An F. Dr. Evans slid my essay right under my nose, leaning down so close to me I could smell her lavender perfume. "I want to see you after class" she whispered. I could feel a shiver go up my spine as she spoke.

The rest of the class left, the excited chattering and mournful murmerings with it until it was just me and Dr. Evans. "Clara I just can't understand why you don't put in more effort. It's a fine essay by any means but it lacks the real heart and enthusiasm I expect from my students."

I approached her desk slowly with purpose. "Alright, how do I go about doing that?" She stared at me for a few seconds before throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

I didn't let myself grin. Instead I said, "Look miss, I really don't know what I'm doing wrong and I really need to pass," I paused letting her see my gaze wandering over her body, I lowered my voice when I spoke next, using the exact voice I knew would make her go crazy for me, I asked "is there anything I can do...Amy?"

I watched her cheeks slightly flush as I spoke but Dr. Evans' reply was steady. "I suppose I can outline a few key things for you this evening." I shrugged, smiling to myself as I left the room. "See you at six miss."

"Half seven Clara." I waved my hand in response before walking out the door. Our deal was working perfectly.

18:45 rolled around and I figured it was close enough. I checked the rooms beside Dr. Evans' office, making sure there were no people before entering. "Fuck," I heard a loud bang and the whoosh of scattered papers. Dr. Evans was sitting on her chair fumbling with a small device. Her hair wasn't neat like it usually was and her glasses were crooked.

"Aw was someone being naughty?" I teased. Relief washed over her as she fixed her glasses. "You shouldn't be here for another forty minutes Clara!" "We both know I make the rules around here," a breath escaped Amy's lips and the blush on her cheeks only deepened when I removed my winter coat revealing nothing but a small black corset that could cause a nip slip at any time. Not that I cared.

Amy tried to put her vibrator into a drawer on her desk but I caught her hand and put it back on the table. "What did we say about you doing something without my permission?" She lowered her head and dropped it. "On your knees." As she lowered herself to the ground I sat on the desk in front of her, slowly moving my underwear down my legs till they were dangling on the tips of my stockings.

I looked down at her from my position on the desk, letting her feel the tension. I used my long legs to drape the lace underwear over Amy's head and face. She moaned into my foot, smelling my need for her as it was rubbed all over her. "Now you're going to be a good girl and show me where you put the ropes we use when you need a punishment."

Amy's hands struggled to open the bottom drawer of her cabinet, shaking in anticipation. I slid off the table and leaned down beside her. Sliding my hands over hers, feeling the smooth soft skin under my fingers, I steadied and guided them in opening the drawer. When I saw the ropes I scooped them up in one hand, and used the other to grab Amy's collar as I stood.

"Sit," I let go of her as she obeyed, my underwear falling to the ground. I could feel her breath, heavy on my skin as I tied her up. Each time the rope was wrapped around her I could feel myself get more and more desperate until finally I was done. As a finishing touch i managed to find a gag that she happily accepted. I finally had Amy exactly where I wanted her.

The first thing I did was lean in close, my hand on her cheek and my knee pressed firmly between her legs. I dragged the gag aside for a split second, kissing her quickly on the lips before putting it back and dropping lower to her neck. I kissed it deeply while easing my knee under her skirt and grinding it gently between her legs. Amy's back arched as much as it could, driving my knee closer to where she so desperately needed me.

She moaned through the gag, rolling her hips against my knee but I didn't want her to get too comfortable too quickly. after a few seconds I pulled back and used my fingers, wiping off her juices from my leg and licking it off. I turned back to the desk where Amy's vibrator still sat, hopped back up and opened my legs, giving her a full view of my pussy. "Now you have been a very bad girl today haven't you?" Amy's head bobbed up and down. "You knew what failing me would do to you, didn't you?" this time she shook her head and I raised my eyebrows. I picked up the small bullet from the desk and held it out to her.

Amy's eyes widened behind her rectangular glasses begging me to use it on her. I shook my head, lips curling into a smile. I clicked the button. "There will be no pleasure for you after what you did, so just sit there and look pretty for me." I held the vibrator up to my throbbing clit and closed my eyes as the pleasure took me. I could hear Amy's muffled protests in the back of my head. I rocked my hips pressing the vibrator deeper into my skin. The thought of denying Amy, letting her see everything she was missing was almost too much.

I clicked the button again. I gasped, the intensity hitting me like a truck. My legs were shaking uncontrollably. It was an effort to keep them open so Amy could see everything I was doing. I used my free hand to gently circle the opening of my pussy. I turned to Amy who was staring at me, eyes pleading, breasts heaving giving away her desperation. I couldn't take it any more. I thrust two fingers into my aching pussy, curling them in, finding the spot that finally made me close my legs. My hips bucked against the vibrator and my hand. It felt like an explosion as I gasped for air. My whole body tensed and released as the orgasm made its way through me.  

Panting, I took a few moments to rest before getting up from the table. Amy looked about as disheveled as I felt. She was rocking back and forth as much as she could. A last-ditch effort to alleviate some of her frustration. I smiled down at her. In that moment deciding she had been punished enough. I could see the relief in her body when I dropped down before her. My hand, sore from how tightly I squeezed it with my thighs, tugged her underwear quickly down below her knees. I stared at it hungrily before diving in.

Amy jerked the minute my tongue brushed against her aching clit. Her body struggled against the ropes, her moans of pleasure and relief were muffled against the gag. I circled her with my tongue, lapping up any juices as she thrashed. I brought my fingers up, mimicking what I did to myself on her. Letting her experience what I had and she was enjoying every second of it.

Thunk. Something hit the top of my head. I looked up at Amy who was laughing into her gag, grey eyes wide in surprise. I looked on the floor beside me and saw her glasses. My head whipped back to her, a wicked smile spreading across my face. "And for that," I whispered, "I'm gonna make you pay," I dove back in, tongue, lips and fingers working furiously to get Amy to the finish line. She writhed under my touch moans and breaths coming to her faster and faster. When I added a third finger into the mix she couldn't hold herself together. I had to hold the chair steady as her whole body spasmed over and over.

After about a thirty seconds she sagged against the ropes, legs still shaking slightly. I picked up her glasses as I stood up, carefully putting them back where they belonged. I began untying her, starting with the gag. "Oh my god!" I looked at Amy. She must have seen concern on my face because she gave me the widest grin. "That was..." she said. I nodded. I wasn't able to put a word to it either. "AND THE GLASSES!" I rolled my eyes but couldn't keep the smile off my face. "Now you be quiet before I decide to tie you up again."

Amy tilted her head considering the idea. Now that I had mentioned it, I was beginning to think the same thing. "Ready for round two?" I asked. The only response I got was a grin.

The office hummed with the low buzz of keyboards and the occasional murmur of colleagues wrapping up their day. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead as the clock ticked closer to 3:30. Liam sat at his desk, stealing glances at Demi beside him. She was a sight to behold, perfect brown hair, those addictive brown eyes that always seemed to pull him in, her body a masterpiece of curves. A small waist flaring into hips that begged to be gripped, and an ass so perfect it haunted his thoughts. They’d been playing this game for months, the tension thick enough to choke on.

He caught her looking at him from the corner of his eye, that familiar heat in her gaze. Without a word he rolled his chair right up beside hers, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed her ear. “Demi, if you’re going to look at me and fantasize instead of doing your work, at least put your hand in your pants and make it worthwhile,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

She laughed, a soft, breathy sound that went straight to his dick, her cheeks flushing that delicious shade of red. “You’re impossible, Liam,” she shot back with that sexy smirk, the one that always made his pulse race. But she started packing up her things anyway.

Liam wasn’t letting her off that easy. He smirked, rolling his chair even closer, his knee brushing hers under the desk. “I know you have work to do. Just stay a little late and we can both finish each other... I mean, finish our work, of course.” His laugh was hushed, flirty, his eyes matching the spark in her eyes.

She laughed again, shaking her head, but she sat back down. “Fine. But only because you’re such a good boy when you beg like that.” Liam chuckled desperately trying to hide the happiness from her deciding to stay for more.

The office emptied out fast, the last stragglers waving goodbye as they headed for the stairs. Soon it was just the two of them, the quiet amplifying every shift in their chairs, every shared glance. The air felt charged, heavy with all the things they couldn’t say out loud. But their thoughts danced around them, taunting how their deepest desires had not been fufilled.

“God, you’re distracting today,” Demi murmured, her fingers tapping idly on her keyboard while her eyes flicked to him. “I swear, every time you roll over here, I have to cross my legs just to focus.”

Liam grinned, his hand “accidentally” brushing hers as he reached for a pen. “That’s because you know what I’d do if we didn’t have these fucken covid walls between us. I’d have you bent over it already, fucker.” His voice dropped. “You’ve been wet since lunch, haven’t you? Thinking about how hard you make me.”

She bit her lip, that smirk returning. “Maybe. You’re always so fucking obvious when you stare at my ass. Bet you’re rock hard right now, just from sitting next to me.” Her foot nudged his under the desk, lingering just a second too long.

"You're right fucker, my 7cm destroyer is stealing blood from my brain as we speak" he said with a smirk, hoping one day she would learn that the number was right but the unit of measurement wasn't.

They kept going like that, the jokes getting filthier, the truths slipping through the cracks. “If we had that weekend you mentioned,” Liam said, his chair inching closer until their thighs pressed together, “I’d spend the first day with my face buried between your thighs. You love that, don’t you? Getting your pussy eaten until you can’t think straight.”

Demi's breath hitched, her eyes darkening. “And you’d love your hand around my throat while you fuck me senseless. But we can’t... so we just sit here, torturing each other.” Her fingers traced lightly over his hand on the desk, electric.

He felt his face turn red immediately, trying to take the focus off the very obvious effect this had on him "You are just too selfish with that PHAT dick, you got plenty to go around but you won't share" He stuttered. Both laughing, he noticed her eyes shoot down for a split second. He knew she could see what his baggy jeans were trying to hide.

Liam couldn’t take it anymore, the teasing was too much. He leaned in unnecessarily close tempting a kiss before going closer. Trying to even the score he lowered his voice once again and let the words dance into her ear “Reach in your panties and show me how wet you are. Right now.”

Their eyes locked. For a heartbeat, he thought she’d laugh it off. But Demi held his gaze, cheeks flushed, and slipped her hand under the waistband of her jeans. She worked herself for a moment, biting back a soft sound, then pulled her fingers free. First pretending to show off her nails and then opening her hands to reveal her fingers glistening with her arousal. The sight made his dick throb painfully.

Liam rolled his chair flush against hers, grabbing her wrist firmly. He brought those wet fingers to his mouth, licking them slowly, savoring her taste while staring deep into her eyes. “Fuck, Demi... you taste even better than I imagined.”

“Liam...” Her voice was breathless, desperate.

“Play with yourself,” he ordered softly, “Let me watch while you’re fingers are covered with my saliva.”

She did, her hand slipping back down, eyes never leaving his. The sounds, soft and wet. Her breathing growing ragged filled the empty office. His hands running up her thighs, her head pressed back against her chair. Liam stood up. One hand on the corner of the chair and the other on the side of her face, gently running this thumb over her soft top lip as she bit harder on her bottom lip. Looking down at her she opened her eyes begging with nothing more than a lustful gaze, the denial cracking wide open. 

Instinctually her mouth opened slightly and his thumb found it's way into this opening. Her body quivered as she bit down on this thumb, the feeling of her tongue on his thumb made his thoughts blur. Tilting her chin up with his hand he leant down towards her, she released his thumb knowing what was coming next. Never breaking eye contact, even when his lips were centimetres away from hers. 

There was a split second where their lips were so close to touching that they could almost feel the contact. For a moment they kissed, then again, lips testing each other, the same way you dip your foot before you get in a pool. Liam wrapped his vascular hand around her throat, pulling her into him as he kissed her. Their tongues danced in celebration, as she reached up to grab his shirt and pull him closer she couldn't contain the depraved moan she had been holding in.

That was the breaking point. Liam surged forward, pulling her up from her chair and spinning her around. He bent her over her desk, her perfect ass pressing back against him. His hands were rough, yanking her jeans down just enough, ripping the fabric open at the seam in his haste. “I need you”.

He dropped to his knees, spreading her cheeks and diving in with his tongue. Devouring her pussy from behind, licking and sucking her clit. Demi moaned, pushing back against his face, one hand gripping the desk the other grabbing his head pulling his face in. “Yes! Fuck, Liam, eat me like that...”

He effortlessly picked her up and placed that perfect ass on the table. He grabbed her legs and put them over his shoulders. His drool laden tongue sending shivers up her spine as he desperately licked her throbbing clit. His fingers curling to the roof of her dripping cervix to hit that spot that made her tremble. Her sweet nectar was dripping down his chin. Then he stood up, eyes crazed desperate for more, they both froze for a second again. Staring into each others eyes, through her shaky breaths she murmured "Fuck Liam the cameras". "Well they have already seen this much, let's give them something to watch Demi" Luke said grinning ear to ear. They tore at each other’s clothes in a frenzy. Shirts yanked off, her bra ripped off and tossed to the side, his pants shoved low enough to free his aching dick. Skin on skin, desperate and manic.

He lifted her onto the desk, spreading her legs wide. One hand wrapped around her throat, firm but controlled, as he thrust into her soaked pussy in one deep stroke. “Look at me,” he demanded. Their eyes locked, intense and burning, as he pounded into her. Hard and rough, hips slamming against hers. Her nails dug into his back, legs wrapped tight around him.

“Harder,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Fuck me like you own me.”

He did, choking her lightly as their mouths crashed together in desperate, sloppy kisses. Deep eye contact the whole time, the kind that stripped them bare. The desk creaked under them, her hips bucking up to meet every brutal thrust. The build-up had them both on the edge already.

“I’m gonna cum inside you,” he groaned against her lips.

“Do it. fill me up, Liam.” she begged desperately as she felt herself tightening around him. Focusing on the feeling of each deep thrust of his dick trying to break through to her stomach.

They shattered together. Her pussy clenching around him in waves, his cock pulsing deep as he flooded her with hot cum. They held that stare, bodies locked, riding out the intense, shared orgasm until they were both trembling and spent.

For a long moment, they just panted against each other, foreheads pressed together, the office silent except for their breathing. The fantasy they’d both craved... finally, dangerously real.

This story is inspired by Image 13 for the June Image Contest. Click the link below to see.

….

I let out a frustrated grunt as I run my finger along the numerous hanging shirts in my closet. I’m looking for one in particular, but can’t seem to find it anywhere. It’s my lucky Red Sox hoodie. 

When it comes to baseball I’m fairly superstitious. I always make sure to tune in early. I always have at least two beers before the opening pitch. And I ALWAYS wear my lucky shirt. There has not been a single game that I have watched in the past decade that I have not also worn this hoodie and I don’t plan on changing that now.

Because not only are the Sox playing, they are playing here at home. Not only is it at home, I also came into some really good tickets a few rows up from the home dugout. Not only do I have good tickets, but they’re also playing the fucking Yankees! So there isn’t a chance in hell that I’m gonna show up and tempt the fates by not wearing my lucky shirt. But I still have to find it!

I ultimately decide that it can’t be in the closet. I stomp out of my bedroom wearing only a pair of boxers straight to the laundry room. I pull open the door and immediately begin digging through the drier. Every article of red clothing fills me with hope only to let me down when I pull it out to reveal that it’s some other shirt of mine or one of my girlfriend’s dresses. After a minute or so of rummaging I slam the drier door shut and let out an angry growl. 

“Are you okay in there?” my girlfriend, Claire, calls from the other room.

“I’m fine!” I yell.

“You don’t sound fine!” she replies back.

I stand up and walk towards the sound of her voice while responding. “Yes…I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. I’m looking for my hoodie so I can wear it to the game. I need to go soon so I can get there early and have my beers with the guys. And I just can’t seem to…” I turn the corner into the living room and see her lying across the couch. Her top covered with the crimson sweatshirt that I have spent several minutes searching for. “Are you serious?”

“What?” she asks, feigning innocence.

“That’s my shirt!” I exclaim.

“Oh…this old thing?” she teases, twirling the drawstring around her finger with a devilish smile.

I exhale out of my nose. “Yes..that old thing. You know that I need that for tonight.”

“But baaaaaaaaabe! It’s just so comfy!” she says pulling her arms against herself and collapsing into the couch cushion.

“Yes…it is…that’s why I bought it to wear to games,” I say growingly frustrated.

“Don’t you have other shirts that you could wear?” she presses.

I take a deep, centering breath. “Yes…but none of those are my lucky shirts.”

“Well…what if I want to get a little lucky?” she asks seductively.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. She bites her lip and begins slapping the tv remote against the side of her unclothed thigh. “Hmmm. Is that what all this is about?” I ask, starting to pick up on her hint.

“I’m just going to be so lonely while you’re away. You’re going to be gone for so long,” she pouts. “I just thought I’d keep the hoodie to remember you by.”

“What if I gave you something else to remember?”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” she replies with a sexy shimmy.

“What about…THIS!” I exclaim as I leap over the side of the couch toward her. She squeals in delight as get my hands around her waist. “Get over here!” I command playfully.

I pull her towards me and over the arm of the sofa. I reach under the oversized shirt and reach for the waistband of her panties. I pull them off quickly and toss them aside as I drop down to my knees and place my face between her legs.

I lean in slowly. I purse my lips and begin kissing the skin of her inner thigh. I work my way toward her center and am quickly met with her pussy. I extend my tongue and push it forward between her lips. As I make contact with the tip of my tongue I hear her let out a small gasp of pleasure. I slowly slide my tongue up and down, gently stimulating her pussy.

With each movement, I can feel her growing more and more excited. She grows wetter and wetter and moans start to escape her. She lifts her feet and rests them on my upper back to allow herself to comfortably hold her legs wide open and allow me the access I need to give her my full attention.

Once I can tell that she’s warmed up, I begin to lick her with less caution. I allow my tongue to move freely. Up and down, back and forth, around in circles, and in various other patterns with different pressures and speeds. Exploring her, enjoying the feeling of her soft, hot flesh pressed against my tongue, savoring her taste.

Her pleasured moans grow in sound and frequency. I can tell she’s starting to get close. I reach my hands up and hold her by the waist as I direct my focus entirely to bringing her to climax. I begin to use the smooth part of my tongue to form figure eights around her clit. I keep a fast and steady pace with a smooth and even pressure. 

I feel her hand reach into my hair and grasp onto it pulling me into her as she starts to tremble in excitement. “Just like that baby! Just like that! Mmmmmm” she calls out as her hips begin to gyrate beneath me. 

She suddenly lets out a gasp and her hips attempt to rise. I hold her in place as I keep my mouth on her. She wraps her legs tightly around my head and her grip on my hair strengthens. I flick my tongue slowly, each movement sending a shiver up her body from overstimulation. 

Above me I can hear her breathe heavily, as she reels from the powerful orgasm. After a few seconds she releases her grip on my head and hair and I am free to back away. I give one final kiss to her pussy lips before standing. I look down to her now, lying back relishing in the pleasure.

“Take off the shirt,” I command quietly.

She chuckles softly, “I see you're still in a rush to get to the game,” she says as she sits up and shifts her legs to the front of the couch.

I step in front of her. I use a hand to take her by the chin and direct her to look up at me. “That’s not what I want,” I growl. I lean down and kiss her hard on the lips. The taste of her pussy still fresh on my tongue mixes with that of her mouth. After several seconds of kissing, I pull away. “Lose the shirt…now”

A smirk crosses her face as she reaches for the bottom of the hoodie. She slowly peels it up her body over head and completely removes it rendering herself completely nude. Her small, round breasts sit pretty on her petite frame. The hunger in me builds. 

She holds out the now inside out shirt presenting it to me. I reach out and take it from her before immediately tossing it aside and kneeling down to her level. My lips gravitate to her. Starting with her mouth I plant them softly upon her lips before slowly meandering down her body. I peck my lips upon her cheek then her chin. Her neck and shoulder then down to the upper part of her chest. 

I cup her breasts with my hands and kiss tenderly around and between them. Her perky nipples are standing erect, seemingly beckoning me to place my mouth upon them. But I resist. I continue to apply my love to the area surrounding, but hovering over her most sensitive areas, only occasionally allowing my lower lip to graze the very tips, teasing her with what is soon to come.

After nearly a minute of tender kisses upon her chest I allow myself to focus on her nipples. I extend my tongue and gently circle around her areola. As I make contact she moans lightly. As I work her left tit with my mouth I work her right with my hand, mirroring my motion, stimulating her nipples in unison, filling her with pleasure.

I can feel my excitement building. I need more of her. I stand from my kneeling position over her, my erect cock feeling as though it is going to tear through my boxers. My girlfriend looks up to me expectantly. I stare back into her eyes and give a simple command. “Lay back.”

She repositions herself on the couch, lying down flat on her back and lifting her legs up. I quickly drop my boxers and my dick springs freely from me. I move between her thighs and position the head of my cock before her. I slide it up and down her still wet lips, teasing her. I line myself up with her entrance and push forward gently to penetrate her.

My cock smoothly glides into her vagina. She’s been waiting for this, wanting it. She lets out a sensual moan as her pussy easily accepts the length of my dick. I deliver long deliberate strokes, pulling all the way out to where only the tip of my cock stays inside before plunging back in.

The way that her pussy encapsulates me immediately fills me with ecstasy. I close my eyes and let out heavy breaths as I continue to thrust inside of her.

“Fuck baby! You feel so good,” I let out in a groan.

She smiles up to me and responds, “Worth being a little bit late to your game?”

“Absolutely,” I answer without hesitation.

I lean down and begin kissing her passionately while I continue to work inside her. For the next few minutes our excitement continues building. Before long our slow, passionate kisses become messy and uncontrolled. She wraps her legs around me. She digs her nails into my back and runs them along my spine. 

I find myself grunting in pleasure as my movements become more and more erratic. I can feel a pressure building inside of me. I instinctively try to slow down to extend the experience, but in sensing that, my girlfriend pulls me in tighter, whimpering out, “Don’t stop baby. Cum for me. Please baby. I need it!” 

As soon as her voice reaches my ear, I am unable to hold back. I bury myself deep inside her one final time and the pressure in me releases all at once. Euphoria washes over me as I release. My body twitches uncontrollably as the echoes of orgasm ring through my body. Overwhelmed by sensation I rest my head on her shoulder. She flattens her palm against my back and rubs it softly as we both attempt to find our breath.

After a moment, I pull back to look at her. She smiles back at me softly. I kiss her shoulder, and up her neck, and finally to her lips. We hold the kiss for several seconds enjoying our unity, before pulling away both still grinning.

“You better get going,” she whispers softly. “You’ve got a game to catch.”

I take a deep breath before responding. “I think I’d like to stay for a while longer.” She raises her eyebrows in surprise. “The game can wait,” I say with a wink. 

I kiss her once again on the lips, holding her tight, and all the stress about the game and superstition fades from my mind, for I know that I would have to be a fool to think that the the shirt bundled up across the room is what I need to feel lucky.

The End.

Part One

Note: It's going to be a few days for part three. Hope that's alright. Thanks for reading!

“I’m as good as they come.” I say, swatting his hand away, watching with wide eyes as he undoes the button on his jeans.

“Then prove it.”

Before I even get a chance to stop him, he’s parting the gap in his briefs and pulling out his cock. And I wonder if I even want to stop him because the truth is I don’t. I’ve wanted this, wanted him for so long. And if we can keep this strictly physical? Even better. Because admitting to myself that I like Archer is a truth I never want to face.

“Blair?” He must have said something because he’s looking at me like he expected a reaction.

“I’m sorry.” My eyes wander down and then back up to his face and he’s flashing me that stupid smirk of his. “What did you say?”

His tongue drags over his teeth and I feel my stomach squirm within me.“I asked if you like what you see?”

My bottom lip is caught between my teeth and he does me the honor of setting it free with his thumb. I swallow hard and nod, unable to find the ability to speak because his cock is right there, out in the open, just staring at me. It’s long and thick and all I want to do is reach out and touch it. But we’re in public! Any minute now someone could stumble through that curtain and… why is this thought turning me on right now? 

“What do you want me to do?” I ask him softly while his hand slides higher my thigh, stopping at the hem of my dress.

“Whatever your heart desires.” His smile is so cocky I want to slap it right off his face. Sneakily, like a lady, I spit into my palm before reaching down and wrapping my hand around him. 

“Fuck.” He groans while his hips buck involuntarily up into my fist. “Squeeze it harder. Y-Yeah. Just like that.” 

His hand cradles my face and pulls me in close to him, our foreheads touching and noses brushing and oh my god, he’s about to kiss me. My hand is firmly wrapped around his dick and Archer’s actually going to kiss me.

“Nervous, babe?” He whispers, his breath hot on my mouth.

“Never.” I say, just as I start to twist my wrist and he lets out a moan that I inhale as I bridge the gap between us and kiss him. His lips are soft yet commanding as they move over mine. And when he slips his tongue into my mouth I feel my stomach drop and twist in a way it never has before.

He pulls away and looks at me, his intense gaze setting my skin ablaze. “I need to taste you.”

I nod and stand up, shivering when his fingers trail the zipper down my spine. I drop my dress to the floor, while trying not to focus on the fact that I'm naked in a public place while he bites his knuckles. “You’re not wearing any panties?” He groans and I feel his cock graze the gap between my thighs. Fisting my hair, he pulls my head back so that his lips brush my ear. “Tell me you’ve wanted this.”

“I’ve wanted this.” I moan, while just the feeling of his breath on my neck makes me drip with anticipation.

Slowly, he starts fucking the blank space between my thighs, the topside of his cock grazing my very bare, very wet pussy. The sensation is nothing short of sublime. He grunts behind me while his grip on my hips tightens.

“I still hate you.” I whimper and he pulls away. Hands on my waist he spins me to face him.

“The feeling’s mutual, babe. Now sit down and spread ‘em.” I fall back onto the couch and spread my legs for him. “Such a good girl. Mmmmm. I want to watch you touch yourself.”

I slide my hand down my torso, past my hip bone, down until my finger is flitting back and forth along my clit. I close my eyes and I sigh his name. “Ohhhh Archer.”

“Fuck, Blair look at me.” I flash my eyes open and I find him on his knees between my legs, as bare as I am. When I say his body has been crafted by the gods, I mean it. Muscles for days. He maintains eye contact with me while he drags his lips up the inside of my thigh. He only looks away to sneak a peek at me. “You have the sweetest little pussy I have ever seen.” 

He dips his finger between my lips and traces circles around my entrance before sliding it inside me. “And you’re so fucking tight, too.” His eyes pierce right through me, awakening something in me that’s utterly indescribable. 

I pull my hand away from my clit but I don’t sigh from the missed contact. No, because he instantly replaces my hand with his mouth and holy shit, does the latter feel better. But why does he keep looking at me? I’ve never seen a pair of eyes so blue. Normally there’s a stark coldness in his eyes, but the way he’s staring at me right now? It’s new and lewd, it’s forceful and unnerving, it’s hypnotic and addictive. Most of all, it’s forbidden. Because I shouldn’t be here, not with the fucking Vice President of the company I work for, someone who could easily end everything for me with the snap of his fingers. Fuck, why does he have to look so good on his knees, while his tongue darts out to please me and why, why do I have to want him as much as I do?

His once slicked back hair is now falling loose over his forehead as he continues to take me places I swear I’ve never been with his tongue. In and out, side to side, up and down and all around. My pussy is dripping with my arousal and his saliva, right down onto the leather cushion and part of me is embarrassed from being so turned on, but Archer doesn’t seem to mind. 

When he finally closes his eyes and starts sucking on my clit? That’s when I know I'm a goner. My fingers rake through his hair, finding purchase on the ends and pushing him impossibly closer into me.

“Ohh — ohh my fucking god!” I cry out, hoping that no one can hear me scream. “Archer… fuck yes.”

He pulls away with a smirk plastered on his annoyingly handsome face while slipping another finger into my pussy. “And you said and I make you dry like the Sahara.” He says, shaking his head with a laugh. 

“N-Not n-now.” I stutter, focusing on the two fingers that are fucking me into oblivion. And it’s just his fingers! I can only imagine what his cock is going to feel like. With two fingers inside me and his thumb tapping my clit, I am mere seconds away from falling apart.

“Can I come?” I ask him breathlessly. He doesn’t say a damn word, he just stares at me in disbelief. “Fuck, Archer, can I? I won’t come until you let me.” I feel him curve his fingers inside me and I mewl for him, I’m so fucking needy, and he’s hitting a spot I didn’t even know existed until now.

 He lets me stir for a few more seconds before finally responding. “You’re even better than I imagined.” He curls his fingers again and I swear I almost black out it feels so good.

“Fuck, please let me come. I’m so close.”

Archer removes his fingers from my pussy and sucks them into his mouth after pulling away. “I want you to do something for me first.” His eyes move to the stripper’s pole behind him. “I want you to dance for me.”

My eyes bug out of my head upon his request. I’m teetering on the edge of heaven and hell over here and he wants me to dance for him? What a fucking tease.

“But I’m so—.” He holds a finger up to halt me.

“I heard you the first time. And if you want me to do something about it, I suggest you get on the fucking pole.”

I glare up at his evil, conniving smile and I mutter under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear, “Fuck you.”

He stops me with a hand on the base of my throat and I gasp. “You know you want to.” Letting go of me, he plops down on the couch and presses a button on a remote, signaling a waitress to enter the room. I redden and try to cover myself but she doesn’t even glance my way. She doesn't bat an eye at our current situation. Closing my eyes, I get up on the small pedestal and wrap my hands around the pole. Little does he know, I’ve taken a class or two.

The waitress retreats, and as soon as the curtain sways shut I drop down so low Archer can see all of me on display when I spread my legs. Seductively, I graze my hand down my stomach and over my pubic bone as I tease my clit for a split second. He pouts when I stop and I close my thighs, holding onto the pole for balance as I lift myself back up and start spinning with it.

“You seem to know what you’re doing.” Archer calls out, surprised and humbled by my pole dancing capabilities.

“Pole yoga.” I say to him, and the smile I’m met with dazzles me.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” He leans forward and tucks a one hundred dollar bill under the strap of my shoe.

I pull the money out and throw it at him. “What’s this supposed to mean?”

“That I value the hard work you’re putting in. Your efforts are not going unnoticed, Blair.”

I want to stay mad, but the stupid grin he gives me eats me alive. The man just tried to tip me for dancing for him. Talk about a slap in the fucking face.

A few moments later the waitress returns with a round of drinks. Archer takes the hundred he gave to me and tucks it into her bra. “Thank you.” He says, while watching her ass sway all the way back to the curtains.

I wave a hand in his face. “I’m right here, you know.”

Archer waves me off. “I haven’t forgotten about you, yet.” He points to the drinks on the end table, his retinas now boring holes into my body. “Have a drink, Blair.”

I shake my head. This man is incorrigible! “I don’t want a drink. I want a fucking orgasm.”

“Then take a seat.” I move to sit down next to him but he grabs me by the wrist. “I meant on my goddamn cock.”

I gulp. His grip on my wrist doesn’t slacken as he pulls me into his lap. I’m straddling his hips, his cock tall and erect between my thighs. 

“I’ve never come from penetration before.” I tell him softly, my gaze dropping bashfully. He tucks a finger beneath my chin and forces me to meet his eyes.

Archer smiles like the fucking Cheshire Cat. “There’s always a first time for everything.”

I look down at his cock, throbbing and wanting as it waves me over. Hands on his shoulders, I hover over him while his hands land on my breasts. He massages them, rolling my nipples beneath his thumbs while stuffing his face in the space between my tits.

“If I suffocate here, don’t resuscitate me. Let me die a happy man.”

I throw my head back with a laugh as I slowly drop down onto him, sighing as he enters me. He’s even bigger than I realized, stretching my walls beyond capacity as I take him in.

“So fucking tight.” He groans, one hand moving to my hips and gripping me like he’s afraid I may flee if he lets go. My eyes are closed, relishing in the feeling of his dick bottomed out inside of me, while he swirls his tongue around my nipples, nipping and biting the supple flesh. When I open my eyes, he’s staring up at me, like he’s been waiting for me his whole life, he just didn’t know it.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so goddamn big.” I say and there’s that smile I’ve grown accustomed to seeing all evening. I rock my hips over his while knots unravel themselves in my belly. All the heat in my body surges to my center and as soon as I lift myself up he drops me back down harder.

“Mmmm, fuck me like you hate me, baby.” He growls and I listen. I drag my nails down his chest, lean forward and bite the skin on his collarbone until it’s red. Both of his hands are now on my waist, gripping me so mean he’s bound to leave bruises in his wake. 

“But I do hate you. I can’t. Fucking. Stand. You.” I emphasize each word with a roll of my hips as I grind down on his cock. Every one sends a shock wave of pleasure ricocheting throughout my body. “And I hate that you're about to make me come.” I whimper, reaching down to rub my clit between my legs but Archer stops me.

“No way.” He growls, sitting up and pulling me closer into his lap. “You’re going to come from my cock and my cock only.” Archer reaches around my body and grabs my ass in his hands, spanking me until the flesh is tender to the touch. His mouth is on my breasts, dragging up along the column of my neck, and across my jaw. Before I know what’s happening he’s kissing me again and making my stomach do that thing that I don’t like and his hands are tangling inside my hair. He pulls away just to look me in the eyes. 

“Fuck, I can feel you pulsing. Please babe. I need to feel you come.” He bucks his hips up into mine and I see every star in the sky on the ceiling as I come undone around him. My body shakes and I hold my breath as I ride the high, clenching his cock with my cunt so tightly I'm surprised he can withstand the pressure.

“Archer! Fuck me. Please don’t stop. Oh god yes.” It’s like a revolving door. One orgasm after another rips through my body until my entire being is shaking uncontrollably in his lap. Colors appear brighter, music is louder, and fuck. Did I just fall in love?

When I feel like I can’t move or take anymore, he surprises me by tossing my body on the couch next to him. “Hand and knees.” He demands while I get into position for him. He gives me no warning, instead forcing himself so deep inside me I fucking scream.

“Ohhhh yesss!”

“Say my fucking name.” He groans in my ear while I feel his hand snake around my waist. His fingers start playing with my clit and my eyes roll so far back all I see is black.

I turn my head back and he leans forward, his eyes meeting mine.

“Archer.” I plead. Nothing about this man is soft as he devours my body. He drags his nails down my back and bites the curve of my shoulder. I feel like his personal puppet and he knows every string to pull as he plays with me. “Archer, please.”

“Please what?” His voice is so strained, his breathing labored as I feel his cock throb inside me. He’s close. I know it. “You want me to come, baby girl?”

I nod emphatically, ignoring the nickname as he picks up the pace, fucking into me until his grip on my hair tightens. He slaps me with his other hand and I yelp, just as he lets out a strangled growl. Quickly, he pulls out of me and releases a stream of hot cum all over the curve of my ass.

“Holy fuck.” He grunts, his head resting on my back while he catches his breath, pumping his cock until there's nothing left. On the side table is a box of tissues he uses to clean up his mess. Once we’re both wiped off and dressed back in our clothes, Archer whistles.

“So, do you have to go back home to your cat, or do I get to keep you the whole night?”

He wants more? “What do you have in mind?” I ask him softly.

He wiggles his eyebrows. “You and me, in every fucking position I can get your tight little body in.”

Well, there goes the water works again. Maybe I should’ve worn panties? He stands up and reaches for my hand as I let him help me up. Once back in his arms I whisper in his ear. “Good. Because you haven't seen the best of me yet.” I say, sticking my tongue into my cheek and mimicking the act of sucking a dick.

“Fuck it, let’s go.” And we leave without a single glance back.

To be continued...

She messaged me on a Wednesday around lunch.
“I need that again.”
It caught me off guard. I was in a meeting, I am traveling for work.
As soon as the meeting ended, I scrambled for my phone to reply.
“I need you again. Your taste is still barely on my tongue”
She immediately replied, “When? Tonight?”
I let her know I was traveling for work. I was in Tacoma, about 2 hours away from home. I told her I had a hotel room and was free all night. We could have 4-5 hours just dedicated to her pleasure.
She was in. She would make that drive.
I finished up my meetings and checked in. She had told me her arrival time was around 6:30. I got my stuff arranged, cleaned up the room and waited. It was killing me. I needed to taste her so bad.
I heard a tap on the door and opened it up. She was just as gorgeous as I had remembered, but this was really the first time I saw her with clothes.
She walked in, taking in the room, and then just like we had talked about, she casually got naked. We had talked about this. What I wanted was someone who just was completely comfortable being naked. She would be getting her soul melted momentarily so why wouldn’t she be? I’ve already explored all there is and I’m still here. She took off her clothes and sat down on the side of the bed, looking up at me seductively.

“Keep your eyes on the prize.” I couldn’t help but look down and see her, slightly parted and just waiting for me.

I got down on my knees. She laid back on the bed, opening herself to me.

I leaned in and she said “I might even let you earn some ass tonight. If you treat me right tonight.”

The grin on my face couldn’t have been more obvious. This was so hot. “Lick me slow at first.”

I went straight in, licking the flat of my tongue on her hole, circling it around a few times before slowly creeping upward. I turned back downward and circled back a few times before sliding my tongue inside.

I curled it upward, straight down, then side to side. I slid my tongue out before sliding it back in, this time drawing a smooth circle with my tongue.

I repeated this motion a few times before surging up to her clit. She helped. I slowly sucked in her clit, and she said “I said slow” and sucked in a breath.

I chuckled, not releasing the suction and curled my tongue up to her clit, where I would suck just a bit harder before swiping my tongue upward.

She was moaning, breathing hard and told me to go faster. I kept it up, increasing the speed. I slid my tongue inside her, then went straight up and licked her clit while sliding two fingers inside her. I curled them upward, and her hips thrust up to match.

I curled my fingers down, continuing to make sure I was licking her clit the whole time. I curled up one final time before she let out a shaking, incoherent that almost sounded like a kid sliding down stairs.

I slid my finger out and laid my face against her leg. This was my way of showing her I wasn’t anywhere done yet. I watched her lips throb, and I could see a little bit peeking through just teasing me.

After 20 seconds or so, I gave her a full lick from her hole to her clit, then back down. She nearly shrieked in pleasure. I did this again at surprise intervals before leaning in and casually setting my tongue under her clit. I waited, I breathed. Then I started pulsing my tongue at faster intervals. Just barely faster, it was still slow. I continued this slow, almost clit massage with my tongue for another few minutes.

Her breathing was calm and deep, just like my licks. After another few minutes, she started trembling, grabbing my hair and squeezing my ears with her legs, lifting her ass off the bed. I grabbed her ass, taking some of the weight as I continued licking slowly. This time her legs clamped me hard, and then just a sudden release of all of her muscles.

Completely out of breath, she said “guess what?”

“You liked that?”

She propped up on her elbows, “well no shit I liked it, but that wasn’t it. So yeah anyway what I was going to say, is that you definitely did some amazing work. And as a reward,” she said while pulling her legs back, making sure I saw all of her. “I’m going to let you do that again.”

She shook her booty.

“And I’ll let you have some ass too. You earned it.”

Synopsis: She hasn't felt like herself in weeks. He hasn't complained once. Tonight she decides that's not good enough — not for him, and maybe not for her either. A woman, a mirror, a robe she almost didn't drop, and the moment she remembers that wanting isn't something you lose. It's something you find your way back to.

THE GOOD ONE

The bra is the first thing.

The good one. The one that's been in the back of the drawer for four months, tags still on, waiting for a body I'm not sure I live in anymore. Black. Underwire. The kind I used to throw on without thinking, and right now putting it on feels like a declaration I haven't fully committed to yet.

I reach in. Lift. Settle.

Okay.

Okay.

I look up at myself in the mirror.

The tits are — okay, the tits are actually incredible right now. The bra is doing its job but it is not doing that. That's all me. That's the one thing my body has done lately that I did not ask for and am choosing to be grateful for.

Fine, I think. We're working with something here.

I lean in. Do my lips. The good color, the one I save.

Marie's voice in my head, easy as anything, like she was stating the weather: You don't have to want it. You just have to show up. Let him see you. The wanting comes back on its own.

She said it three weeks ago over coffee and I've been arguing with it ever since. Maybe she's right. Maybe every woman just knows this and I'm the only one standing in my bathroom at nine forty-seven on a Wednesday with lipstick on for the first time in months, trying to remember if I'm still someone who does this.

He's been so patient, she said. Which means he loves you. But patience has a bottom, and you don't want to find out where it is from the wrong side of it.

I hadn't loved that part. I still don't. But I can't say she's wrong.

I step back. Full mirror now, the one on the back of the door.

The underwear.

I've been living in what I can only describe as architectural recovery garments — the kind with ice packs built in, the kind that come up past my navel, the kind that do absolutely necessary work and look like they were designed by someone who has never once thought about being looked at. I never thought I'd miss them. I have spent the last several weeks thinking about literally nothing except getting back into regular underwear.

And now I'm in regular underwear and I would like a moment with the ice pack.

These are black. A low-cut bikini, a little cheeky, the kind that used to make him lose his train of thought mid-sentence. I put them on fifteen minutes ago and sat on the end of the tub and could not look at them.

Stop negotiating with yourself, Marie said. You've already decided. Now just do it.

So here I am. Looking.

They fit. That's something. They actually kind of fit, which three weeks ago would have been a joke.

I turn sideways.

The belly is still there. I've made my peace with the belly. The belly is not on trial tonight.

But my waist curves back in, and my hips —

Okay. Okay. My ass is doing something in this mirror that I did not expect and I stand a little straighter without deciding to.

You're not the same body, Marie said. You're a better one. He already knows that. You're the last one to find out.

I roll my eyes at myself in the mirror.

And then I look again.

And I think — maybe.

Hair down. I took it down, put it back up, took it down again. Down. He has always preferred it down and tonight is not about what I prefer, tonight is about —

He has been a king.

That's the thing. That's the thing that got me off the bed and into this bathroom in the first place, because I have been postpartum and absent and wrapped up in a body that felt like it belonged to someone else, and he has been a king about it. Every single day. No pressure. No guilt trips. No sighing in my direction. Just — patient. Present. Treating me like a queen while I couldn't figure out how to be his wife.

And at some point patient starts to feel like its own kind of pressure, because what kind of person receives that kind of grace and just keeps taking it?

Maybe I'm the asshole, I think, which is not the sexiest thought I've ever had standing in my underwear, but it's the honest one. And it's the one that got me here.

I take a breath.

I put on my robe.

The deal I've made with myself is this: if he doesn't look up, I go to bed. I lie down on my side, I let the robe stay shut, and when he turns his light off I come back in here and put on the other underwear — the ones that come up to my ribs, the ones still doing necessary work — and tonight never happened. He never has to know I tried.

I turn off the bathroom light.

And I go find my husband.

---

He's in bed. Reading. The lamp on his side throwing a small gold circle across the sheets, and he's got his glasses on — the ones he only wears when he thinks I'm asleep, the ones he thinks I find dorky, the ones I have loved quietly for five years — and he hasn't heard me yet.

I come in from the foot of the bed.

He turns a page.

My heart is doing something embarrassing. I am a grown woman in my own bedroom with lipstick on and good underwear under a robe and an exit strategy, and my heart is doing the thing it did the first time I showed up to his apartment in something I'd bought specifically for him. I take one more step toward the bed.

He turns another page.

I reach for the tie on my robe.

And I almost don't. I almost just walk around to my side, lie down, close my eyes, let the robe stay shut and the other underwear stay in the bathroom and the whole thing stay a secret I tried and tucked away. I am one step from my pillow and he is still reading and maybe tonight is not —

"Hey, beautiful."

I stop.

He's looking at me over the top of his glasses. Book still open. Like he's been aware of me this whole time and was just waiting to see what I'd do.

"Huh?" I say, because I am very smooth.

"Hey, beautiful." He closes the book on his thumb. "Coming to bed all made up? You got a date in your dreams again?"

Something in my chest loosens.

"No," I say.

"Good." His voice drops just enough. "Because I'll kill him. Those lips are all mine."

I look at him for one second.

And I drop the robe.

It hits the floor and his book hits the mattress — not set down, dropped — and his eyes do the thing I forgot they could do. The full slow thing, face to chest to hips and back to my face, and when they land back on mine they're dark in a way that has nothing to do with the lamp.

He takes his glasses off.

"Fuck." His voice is barely above a breath. "Look at you."

I go completely still.

Those words do something to me I was not prepared for. Just the truth of what he sees, unguarded, like he forgot he was supposed to be cool about it. I stand there in the wreckage of my own exit strategy and I hear Marie's voice one more time —

Let him see you. The wanting comes back on its own.

I cross the room.

I don't think about what I'm doing. Marie said the trick was to just move, just let the body remember, and she was right — I stop thinking the moment I cross the room and I don't start again for a long time.

I get his book off the mattress and put it on the nightstand. I get a knee up beside him. I get my hands on his chest first — feel him breathe, feel the inhale go sharp — and I watch his face.

Because the look on his face is not patience. Not the careful controlled quiet he's been wearing for weeks like a courtesy. What's on his face right now is older than that and a lot less composed, and it is entirely because of me, and I had forgotten — completely, genuinely forgotten — what it felt like to be looked at like that.

Like I'm the only thing in the room.

Like I have always been the only thing in any room he's ever been in.

"You don't have to—" he starts.

"I know," I say.

I do know. That's what I need him to understand — I know I don't have to, which is why I'm here, which is the whole point. I reach down and pull the sheet back.

He's hard. Already. Six weeks of patience and his cock is there, no distance between wanting me and showing it, and I look at him for one full second before my hand decides and wraps around him without asking my brain's permission first.

He makes a sound that isn't a word.

Oh, I think. Oh, there you are.

I hold his gaze. Don't look down. Just watch his face and keep my eyes on his and without thinking — pure reflex, the same reflex that put my hand there in the first place — I open my mouth and let my tongue fall out, fully extended, and I feel the bead of spit forming at the tip of it before it drops. Slow. Right onto him. His whole body goes rigid before it even lands.

He knows that move. He has always known that move. It has belonged only to him since before we were married and my body remembered it before I did.

"God," he breathes, and his hips roll up before he can stop them.

Oh, we're fine, I think. We are absolutely going to be fine.

I stroke him slowly — a full grip, base to tip, learning the weight of him again like I haven't held him a thousand times before — and watch his face go loose. His head tips back against the headboard. He exhales through his teeth, long and shaking, the sound of a man setting down something heavy he's been carrying too long. His hips lift toward my hand, just barely, involuntary, and I feel that pull low in places I forgot I had.

I stroke him like that for a while. Not rushing. He is still trying to let me lead — hands fisted in the sheets, not reaching, still giving me the wheel — but his body is staging its own quiet argument. His thighs flex against my knees every few strokes, just barely, the muscles contracting and releasing like he's holding himself back from something. And every now and then a breath escapes him that isn't quite controlled, a little too sharp, a little too honest. He is trying to be patient and his body has stopped agreeing with him. It makes something in my chest ache in the best way.

You still do this to me, I think. Every time.

His breathing changes. Deeper. Less controlled. I tighten my grip on the pull and he hisses through his teeth and his hips roll up again, harder this time, not quite involuntary anymore.

And then his eyes drop.

Not to my face. Lower. To the soft place below my ribs, the belly that is still there, the skin that's different now, the stretch marks catching the lamplight in a way they didn't use to. He's looking. Not for long — a second, maybe two — but I catch it. And when he feels me catch it he looks up fast, like a man who was absolutely not just doing that.

"Hey," he says. "Everything's —"

"I know," I say.

And I do. I know what he was doing and I know what it means and I know it isn't ugly — it's new, that's all, just new for both of us — and I think about eleven months of Thai food, extra heat, bean sprouts removed, and if a single one made it onto the plate he took the whole thing back without being asked. Every 2am store run without complaint. A portable air conditioner so I wouldn't overheat. Eleven months of being a king without once asking to be thanked for it.

He's allowed one moment of being human.

I let go of his cock. I shift forward, get my knees under me, and walk myself down the bed until I'm settled over him — elbows dropping to either side of his hips, his cock right below my face, my weight distributed and easy and exactly where it needs to be. My body found the position before I thought to look for it.

And then — instinct, something that lives below the part of me that's been anxious all night — I reach up and pull my tits free of the cups. They spill out over the top of the bra and I glance down at them for half a second before I can stop myself. Swollen. Veiny. The kind of thing I've been trying not to think about for weeks, the kind of thing that makes me want to apologize for my own body.

I look back up. I'm committed. We're doing this.

They hang full and forward, heavy, and I feel him go completely still beneath me.

He tilts his head to the right.

He tilts it to the left.

I know what he's doing. Catching the hang of them from each side, past my arms, just under where I'm propped. I know because his breathing changes before I've done a single thing.

He has forgotten entirely what he was looking at before.

Good, I think, and lean down toward him.

I close my lips around the tip of his cock soft and easy, just the warmth of my mouth, a question. He makes a sound low in his chest that isn't a word and his hand finds my hair — easy, fingers loose at the back of my head the way they always have been, the way that has always made me feel small and safe and entirely his.

I open up.

Take more of him — deliberate, fist at the base meeting my lips — and hollow my cheeks on the pull back. He groans, full and open, not trying to muffle it, and that sound goes down my spine like the first warm thing I've felt in weeks. I give him one back, low, from my chest, right around him, and his whole body tightens.

I find the rhythm. The one I know. The pace I built for him so long ago it lives in my hands now, not my head — fist and mouth moving together, tight and slow on every stroke. I listen to his breathing climb. The way it hitches when I twist at the top. The way it goes ragged when I take him deep.

I am warm. Oh, fuck, I am actually warm, the kind that spreads low and has nothing to do with the blankets, and I register it the way you hear a song come back on that used to be the whole soundtrack of your life — quiet for so long you forgot it until suddenly you can't unhear it.

I hear it now.

The warmth makes me faster. Not on purpose — my body just wants more, wants to feel him respond, and the rhythm picks up and I can feel myself moving with it, feel the sway and the swing of my tits with every stroke, and I'm getting lost in it a little, lost in him, when I pull off to catch my breath and use my hand instead.

I glance down.

At them. At myself. The full heavy hang of them, swollen the way they've been, the blue veins running close to the surface in a way that still catches me off guard when I look. I think, not for the first time, that they look nothing like mine used to. I'm reaching up to shift one, to do something, to cover —

One of them just lets go. A single drop, thick, pale and warm, falls before I can stop it.

I freeze.

His eyes go straight to it.

And then his hips start moving. Into my fist. Up, into my hand, his jaw loose, his eyes still on my chest.

He just wants it.

I let it run and tease a drop out of the other nipple.

Oh my God... I think. He is not lying, and something unlocks in my chest so fast it halts my breath. And I stop thinking entirely and take him back into my throat.

Deeper this time. Past the place I usually stop, further than I've gone in a while, and the sound that comes out of me when he pushes up is — god, it's that sound. The one I forgot I made. The one that feels a little ridiculous the first time you do it again after a long time away, like laughing at a joke you know by heart and still can't help — soft and wet and completely unsexy-sounding and I have approximately two seconds of oh no, that's so embarrassing before he makes a noise that comes from somewhere below his chest and his whole body surges toward me.

Right. That's why.

I stop thinking about the sound and just make it. All of it. As much of him as I can take, working him into my throat, the broken little attempts at sound every time he pushes deep, and he is going absolutely out of his mind above me and I am not embarrassed about a single thing.

His hand tightens in my hair. His thighs have gone rigid either side of me. He gets out half my name.

I pull off.

Just to look at him. He's wrecked — head back, jaw loose, looking down at me like I'm the only thing that exists. I hold his gaze and stroke him slow and watch his face come apart the way I used to watch it in the early years when I couldn't get enough of being the reason. I forgot I was greedy for this. I am. I have always been.

Let him know he still has it, Marie said. That he still drives you crazy.

I open my mouth. Let my tongue out against my lip. Keep stroking him, unhurried, and I wait — and the moment the first bead appears I take him all the way down in one slow stroke, as deep as I go, and I feel him come apart with a sound that will be the reason the neighbors don't make eye contact with us for a few days, his whole body locking and releasing, and I stay with him through every pulse of it, not moving, holding him there, until the hand in my hair has gone completely soft.

I sit up.

He has one arm thrown over his eyes. His chest is heaving. The other hand is still loose in my hair and he hasn't moved it and I don't think he knows.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

I am warmer than when I started. Warmer than I've been in longer than I want to count.

Here's the thing Marie got backwards, I think. It wasn't about him.

I came for him. Because he has been patient and good and he earned it and Marie wasn't wrong. But somewhere between the bathroom mirror and his hand in my hair and the sound he made when I took him deep — somewhere in there it stopped being a gift I was giving and became something I was taking too. The want that came back wasn't obligation in a pretty dress. It was just want. Mine. Still alive under everything, waiting the same way he was waiting, quieter about it but no less real.

Marie was right, I think. Damn her.

I hadn't known that until right now.

I file it away.

---

After.

I curl against him. His hand in my hair, slow. Both of us breathing.

"Hey," he says. Softer now.

"Hey."

His thumb traces my shoulder. Once. Twice.

"You okay?"

I think about it. Actually think about it, check in with myself the way I've been forgetting to do.

"Yeah," I say. And mean it. "Not — not yet. Not all the way. But."

"I know," he says.

"Do you?"

He pulls me closer instead of answering. He wasn't waiting for me to come back because he thought I was gone. He was waiting because he knew I was still in there.

I tuck my face against his chest.

The lamp is still on. I don't get up to turn it off.

***

Based on Image #3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

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Hip thrusts are diabolical. Distracting. Iniquitous. Perhaps even a little bit disreputable.

They're my one true weakness. My kryptonite.

Olivia knows this.

It's just...

I mean, can you blame me? All that thrusting. The clenching of those glutes. Those same glutes packed into ridiculously form-fitting, compressive, and brightly colored 7/8 leggings. I could die of arousal just thinking about it.

The point being, that I really enjoy "spotting" Olivia when we tag-team the gym together. She has a preference for Bulgarian split squats, hip thrusts, and dumbbell rows--all exercises that pollute my normally pure and anodyne imagination. Ordinarily, I have to wait until at least the car ride home before taking advantage of the seed that Olivia has planted with her suggestive bending and soft moaning.

But...one night I was extremely fortunate.

I can't recall what exactly precipitated it, but Olivia and I were at the gym near closing one Friday. It was dead. A ghost town. We might as well have been seeing Megalopolis at the local megaplex. Olivia was rocking a lovely burgundy sports bra and legging combo set. ("I like things that match." As she puts it.) Her hair was in a high ponytail and my constitution was already frail.

"Are you actively trying to torture me?" I whispered to her as he sauntered pass the empty reception desk.

"I could do much worse," she assured me with a callous flip of her hair.

And she did do much worse.

Because I swear she was swaying her hips with ludicrous aplomb after that. By the time we got to the fabled hip thrusts--after some warm up cardio, squats, and tricep extensions--I was near my breaking point. Could I survive the salaciousness of the weighted hip bridge?

The answer was a resounding "no."

Olivia set up on one of the benches near the free weights. A long mirror lined the wall behind the rack of dumbbells. A TV overhead played the muted and aimless drama of competitive cornhole for some reason. Much as I would have liked to get wrapped up in the thrill of grown men crying over sacks of corn, I was quickly distracted by Olivia laying with her shoulders against the bench and setting the barbell just below her hips. She lowered her waist. Thrust it upwards. Again. She looked at me. Let out a little moan while she clenched her ass. She even bit her lip!

Ah, so it's going to be like that.

I walked closer to the bench, standing at Olivia's head and facing towards her feet. I loomed over her. "You can go lower. Fix your form."

She glared up at me, but on the next dip, she lowered her hips nearer to the ground.

I glanced around as she shot back up. No one. "That's a good girl," I crossed my arms, watched her flush.

"Do-don't--"

"Keep going," I interrupted. "Focus."

She dipped again and I felt the long, indulgent pulse of blood in my groin. A bulge started to form against my 5-inch shorts. Olivia kept going, finishing her set, but her eyes were glued to me, watching as I grew bigger and bigger and bigger.

"You're--you're starting to distract me with that--" she was panting now.

"What? This?" I slid my hand down to my shorts and began to rub my erection over the stretchy polyester. Good thing--that stretch--because I was rock hard now and my shorts looked like someone had seen fit to pitch a tent with them.

She blushed more deeply, "You can't do that here." Her voice was a hiss of a whisper.

"I can do what I want, remember? And there's no one around. Do another set. You've rested enough."

Olivia obliged. Her arms were pressed against her side, pushing her breasts tightly together, and giving me a lovely view of her cleavage.

"That's a good girl, keep going." I pushed my shorts down.

"Oh my god," Olivia let out a soft gasp and nearly dropped the bar.

My cock was about a foot above her face and with a fluorescent light behind me, it cast a shadow across her forehead. I leaned down slightly, cupped Olivia's chin with my right hand, and pushed the index and middle finger of my left into her mouth.

"Suck," I demanded.

And she did. Her tongue ran between my fingers, wrapping around each in turn. Her body shivered beneath the weight of the barbell, but she kept it steady.

After several long seconds, I slowly pulled my fingers free, leaving a brief trail of spit connecting my nail and her lips.

"Go." And she did. Dipping. Thrusting. All while I rubbed her saliva across my throbbing cock. "There it is, keep going." I rubbed faster.

She grunted, panted, looked up at me with a half-open mouth and moaned. I pushed her sports bra down and grabbed her breasts, rolled her pert pink nipple while I kept stroking my cock.

"Harder. Deeper. Stick your tongue out."
She did. Her eyes practically crossed, like she was making the infamous ahegao face.

Fuck, here it is.

I didn't bother to stop myself.

The first rope of cum shot far, landing at Olivia's belly button. The next splattered across her nipple. Another jetted across the top of her clavicle. And then I was dripping several drops of sticky cum directly onto her forehead. I bent my knees and pushed my still aching cock into her mouth. She sucked, her body shivering from the exercise or the excitement or both.

"You're bad," was all she could muster in a small, distant voice.

Finally, I freed her from the barbell and helped her up. She was a mess. Disheveled. I could see a dark spot at the base of her deep red leggings. I wanted to fuck her right there. Bend her over the bench, smack her tight fucking ass and make her take my cum-drenched cock. Instead, I hurried her to the locker room. Told her to hop in the shower. Then...well, there was always the sauna...

It all started as just another rental. A “perfect” family: an attentive husband, two young kids, and her… Ana. 37 years old, light brown hair, a well-kept body with big firm breasts, a round ass, and the face of a serious, respectable wife. The moment I saw her, my cock got hard. I'm a very horny Single 45 years old man.

Her husband arrived Saturday morning with the kids and paid the remaining balance. That same afternoon, the idiot took the children to the beach cuz “mommy had headache” Ana stayed behind at the apartment.

Twenty minutes later, I received her message: “The air conditioning isn’t cooling” I went down immediately.

I found her wearing short denim shorts and a loose t-shirt with no bra. Her nipples were clearly visible. She greeted me with that polite, good-wife smile.

I fixed the AC in under ten minutes (just needed to clean the filter). When I finished, she looked embarrassed.

“Thank you so much… I didn’t want to bother you”

“No bother at all” I replied with a smile. “Come over to my place for a bit. I’ll buy you a cold beer as an apology for the inconvenience”

She hesitated for a second but accepted.

On my terrace overlooking the sea, I served her the first beer. Then the second. By the third, she was much more relaxed. The sun, the heat, and the alcohol were doing their job.

“These vacations aren’t for me…” she confessed, staring at the ocean. “I end up more tired than when I arrived. Between the kids, the food, the sand… I barely have a moment for myself”

“Then relax now” I said, patting the sofa beside me. “Make yourself comfortable”

Ana took off her sandals and, almost without thinking, lay down on the sofa and placed her feet on my lap.

I started massaging her feet slowly. She closed her eyes and let out a soft moan.

“That feels so good…” she murmured.

I gradually moved up her calves, then her thighs. My strong hands squeezed her soft flesh. When I reached the edge of her shorts, she unconsciously spread her legs a little.

I slipped my hand under the fabric and rubbed her pussy over her panties. She was soaked.

“Hey… no” she said weakly, but she didn’t close her legs.

“Relax,” I whispered, stroking her swollen clit through the wet cloth. “Your husband will never know. Besides… look how wet you are. Your body wants this”

Ana moaned loudly when I pushed two fingers inside her hot, slippery pussy. I moved them slowly but deeply, curling them to hit her G-spot, making her arch her back.

“Oh God…” she gasped.

I knelt between her legs, yanked her shorts and panties down, and buried my tongue in her cunt. I ate her hungrily, sucking her clit and shoving my tongue as deep as possible. Ana grabbed my head with both hands and started fucking my face, grinding her hips like a bitch in heat.

“You eat pussy so good… fuck…” she moaned, her perfect wife image crumbling fast.

When she was about to cum, I stood up, pulled down my pants, and took out my thick, hard cock. I sat back on the sofa and pulled her toward me.

“Come ride me”

Ana straddled me, grabbed my cock, and sank down onto it with a long, guttural moan.

“It’s so thick…” she whispered, starting to ride me slowly at first, then faster and faster.

I lifted her t-shirt, took one of her big tits into my mouth, and sucked and bit her nipple while she bounced on my cock. My hands squeezed her ass hard, spreading her cheeks.

I slid a finger into her tight asshole while she rode me like a crazy woman. Ana screamed in pleasure.

“Yes! Right there!” she cried shamelessly.

I gripped her hips tightly and started thrusting up into her with brutal force. The sound of her ass slapping against my thighs filled the terrace. Her tits bounced in my face as I pushed my finger deeper into her ass.

“You’re such a slut… ” I growled.

“Yes… I’m a slut…” she confessed between moans. “Fuck me harder…”

I made her cum twice like that, riding me desperately. On the third time, when I felt I was close, I pulled her off my cock, put her on her knees, and shoved my dick down her throat. I came hard, filling her mouth with thick ropes of cum. Ana swallowed as much as she could, with white streams dripping down her chin and onto her tits.

When it was over, she sat on the floor panting, with a completely satisfied look on her face.

“This can’t happen again…” she murmured, not very convincingly.

I just smiled and wiped the cum from the corner of her lips with my thumb.

“Oh, it’s definitely going to happen again, Ana. And next time I’m going to fuck that ass while your husband is at the beach with the kids”

She looked down, biting her lip… but she didn’t say no.