by Kat T. Masen
“Hey, Batman. Is Robin, ready to hit the gym?” He notices Tristan playing on the sofa. With a look of disgust, he turns off the television.
“Eric, what the fuck?” An annoyed Tristan glares at Eric.
“Uh, hello, Flubber! Gym time. I messaged you!”
Flubber! Tristan is scrawny. The irony and reference to the movie make me laugh out loud.
“No, you didn’t,” Tristan argues back.
Eric searches the coffee table until he locates Tristan’s cell. “Here, let me prove it.” He scrolls through with a confused look on his face. “Who’s Claudia?”
Tristan snatches the phone but doesn’t speak so I interject, “Double-D hunny who Tristan plans to motorboat tonight.”
“I didn’t say that!”
Eric is quiet, which is very out of character. “A date, huh? So, tell me, what do you plan to wear?”
Tristan shuffles his feet awkwardly. “Maybe that blue shirt and my jeans.”
“And shoes?” Uh-oh, Tim Gunn has entered the building.
“My chucks… I think.”
“Tristan, no girl wants her beaver pounded by a guy wearing chucks. Rule number one,” Eric points out.
“I do plan on removing my chucks before I bang anyone,” Tristan shouts, heading toward the kitchen.
“I’ll argue that… I have chucks. I pound beavers,” I correct him.
Eric plasters on a fake smile. “But you, my dear, are Batman. You can wear a pink tutu, and women will still want the full buffet breakfast.”
Tristan walks back into the room with a bottle of water. “Buffet breakfast? As in eggs, bacon—”
Eric cuts Tristan off. “No, sweet pea, as in they want an Aussie kiss. The same as a French one but down under.”
“Eric…” I burst out laughing at his pathetic analogy.
“Oh, wait! I’ve got a good joke I heard the other day.” Eric straightens his face to tell the joke, Tristan cringing already as I suspect Eric tells him crude jokes all the time.
“How is a pussy like a grapefruit?” He waits for our response.
“How?” I indulge him.
“The best ones squirt when you eat them.” He slaps his hand on his thigh and lets out a huge roar of laughter which I can’t help but join in with.
“I don’t get it.” Tristan scratches his head.
“Go take a shower,” I tell him. “Perhaps Eric can give you a lesson on it another time.”
“Unfortunately, I’m more educated in that department than I should be. Rocky has an unhealthy obsession with them and isn’t afraid to send me links. Once I watched a squirting contest. I swear it was like the squirting Olympics!”
I’ve seen the exact video, but now isn’t the time to bring that up. “Give Tristan a break. It’s not that easy to get laid. I think he’s just trying to find his feet.”
“How is it not easy? I’ve seen women swarm around you. In fact, it used to drive Charlie insane. Although she’d never say so since she’s as stubborn as a mule.” He continues to ramble on, but I’m taken back and distracted by his comment about Charlie.
Her name. Her jealousy. No, don’t succumb.
There’s silence in the room. Fuck, think of something, anything!
Eric places his hand over his mouth like a five-year-old caught saying a swear word. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up Charlie. I realize it might be a sore spot.”
Sore spot? More like an open wound with a bullet still sitting in it. “It’s fine. How is she doing, anyway?”
“I, um… do you really want to know?”
“It’s fine, Eric. She’s moved on… I get it.”
“But have you?”
I turn to look at him, and I know he’s trying to read me. I don’t answer. I can’t muster the courage to lie right now, so I don’t say anything at all.
Eric breaks the silence. “She’s doing well considering…”
“Considering what?”
What the fuck is wrong with her?
“Nothing alarming, considering she’s up the duff again. Her cravings are making me gag. Last night it was bread dipped in ice cream.” He does that fake dry heaving for a moment.
“Oh, well, yeah, that has to suck, right? My sister, Josie, was the same and look what she gave birth to.”
There’s more silence, and I’m gathering the feeling there is more to this than Eric cares to share.
“Am I missing something here, Eric?” I question.
His eyebrows perk up. “What are you talking about?”
“Charlie?”
Pursing his lips, he shakes his head. “No… that’s it.”
I decide to drop the conversation, not wanting him to conjure up thoughts in his head regarding my feelings toward her.
“So, what do you and Tristan do? I don’t get to speak to him much despite him living here.”
I’m on parental duty. Odd, I know. It isn’t that I don’t trust Eric, I just know there are some bad crowds in LA, and I don’t want Tristan near them. My sister will crucify me.
“Been showing him all the hot spots in LA. Taking him to the gym… I don’t know, just stuff us young ones do.”
I ask the question directly. “Look, is he using anything to bulk up?”
Eric laughs. “Tristan? O.M.G., no, he just enjoys the weights. So do I… well, not to do them, but there’s this trainer, Mitchell, and wow! You should see his pecs. First class. I could eat a five-course meal off them.”
“Too much info, Eric.”
Tristan walks out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. He’s dripping wet. I notice that he has formed a six-pack. Shit, the kid is becoming a man. It isn’t that which catches my attention, but the fact that Eric’s mouth is gaping.
Oh shit.
This is heartbreak waiting to happen. I don’t have the heart to remind Eric that Tristan is straight, but I’m fairly certain Tristan is a big enough boy to tell him on his own.
Eric straightens up and walks over to Tristan. “Okay, show me this damn shirt.”
I decide to leave them alone as I need to clear my head. Grabbing my keys, I head out of the apartment with Eric’s voice on high volume. “This shirt belongs in the clearance rack at Wal-Mart! If you want a crack at this bird, you need to show off your body.”
I can hear the muffled voices and decide to leave the divas to their own. I have more important things to worry about. And Eric’s namedrop has become one of them.
I haven’t seen her in two weeks, the urge still fighting for top position. All I have to do is make it through another night, one step at a time.
And ignore the fact that her husband is in Manhattan, according to the media.
She’s all alone.
A temptation too hard to stay away from.
The one thing I love about living in California, aside from the warm weather, is that no matter where you go, you will always find something new. Sometimes it’s a new eatery, a new bookstore, or maybe just a new spot to sit and ponder.
When I first arrived here, I had stumbled upon this place when I managed to get lost heading to a meeting. The meeting was being held at my boss’ house—a mansion in Bel Air worth a hell of a lot of money. I remember pulling the car aside trying to google my location with barely any service, and frustrated at the time, I went to throw my damn cell into the bush when I noticed the view in front of me.
It was a farm, nestled behind a hoard of trees. There were beautiful horses grazing throughout the wide space. Their stunning manes glistened in the morning sunshine. It was picturesque, tucked away in a hidden part of the hills. I sat there mesmerized by how they interacted with each other. I’m not a huge animal lover, but for the first time in my life, I was so captivated by the beauty of the creatures that before I knew it, I had been sitting there for over an hour watching them—and was ridiculously late for my meeting.
I have been back there twice at my lowest moments, and I know the urge to visit is calling me now. I look at my watch seeing it’s
already after five. I’ve been aimlessly wandering the streets for hours without any destination in mind. It’s too late to head out there now, so instead, I find myself a quiet little café.
Then, the familiar feeling of loneliness consumes me at this vulnerable moment. The feeling of being alone, of being unloved, knowing there isn’t anybody out there thinking about you right now. No one to open the door when you arrive home, jump into your arms, tell you how much they’ve missed you.
No one to look into your eyes and feel their gaze penetrating every part of your soul.
I close my eyes. Pools of brown eyes watch me. Call me. Beg me to save them.
I miss her so much my chest aches.
Chelsea… Charlie… Chelsea… Charlie.
You fucking piece of worthless shit, you don’t know what you want.
How the fuck can you fight the fire when you don’t know who’s igniting the flame?
The weakness. I can’t be alone with my thoughts right now, so I haul ass back home. In a desperate act, I reach out to the two closest people who could possibly save me from myself right now—Tristan and Eric.
It has come to this.
Tristan and Eric aren’t my saviors tonight. Tristan said Claudia isn’t feeling well, and he also feels ill from something he ate at dinner, and so he isn’t up for anything. Eric says he’s busy, and I’m not going to ask questions. I figure it has something to do with Charlie, hence, why he’s so vague. Either that or he’s doing something illegal, in which case, I still refuse to ask questions.
All I know is that I need physical contact with another human being. I yearn to feel the desire from a woman, and in other words, get laid—pronto.
Alone at a bar on the corner of pathetic and worthless streets, I find myself a stool and make acquaintances with my long-lost friend, Johnny Walker.
The place is busy, people cramming themselves in. The music blares loudly but is muffled by the drunken chatter. There’s a section in the corner where people dance, and the lights are dim. I search the room looking for something nice to take home. I don’t give a fuck if Tristan’s home, my dick has its own agenda and needs a fucking release.
As I watch the dance floor, the music changes, and the dancing slows. A woman wearing the tightest hot pink dress is playfully staring at me, licking her lips and pretending to suck the tip of her bottle. Okay, so I’m fairly certain she’s all show but gives poor head. Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess. I’m about to walk toward her when her boyfriend grabs her arm and pulls her in a different direction.
Damn, back to square one.
After my fifth scotch, the music makes me happy. Everyone looks like they could be my best friend, including the blonde who eye-fucked me from the dance floor. I make my way over to her and immerse myself in the tight crowd. I’m not shy—let’s get this shit over and done with. I place my hand on her hip and pull her into me. She makes a slight squeal but laughs it off as she runs her hands along my chest.
I lean down to her ear to inhale her cheap perfume. Who cares that it’s cheap? Just get fucking laid already.
“I need your name if you want me to scream it out while I’m fucking this pretty little ass of yours.”
She lets out a sigh and rubs herself against my throbbing cock.
Green light.
“My name is Tori, and I need your name if you want me to moan it while I’m sucking on your cock.”
I press my body against hers. I can smell the moisture between her legs. She’s fucking wet as hell.
My tongue is just shy of her ear. “Julian, and we should get out of here, now.”
Tori continues to rub herself against my cock, my jeans constraining the poor fella as he can barely breathe, suffocating behind all the fabric. Why is she delaying?
“I’ll tell you what, Julian… how ‘bout we have some fun?”
Oh great.
The last time a woman said this to me, she wanted to fuck while we took Ecstasy. Sure, the sex was off the fucking charts, but I’m trying to stay clean. I think it’s time to pull the plug on Tori.
“Don’t look so frightened, handsome.” She turns me and wraps her hands around my waist. “You see that blonde by the bar? The one with the short white dress?”
Big fucking tits—yes, of course, I see her.
“Well, how about she joins us? You know, make this more… let’s say… dirty.”
Jackpot.
She pulls my hand toward the exit and nods to the other girl to follow us. Outside the bar, I push Tori against the wall, crushing my lips on hers. Yeah, I am fucking desperate.
Her taste is sweet like passion fruit flavor or something. Who the fuck knows? My dick is leading the charge here. She pulls away only briefly to hold my hand and lead me around the corner to a hotel. We enter the lobby and wait for the elevator. Once inside, I push her against the wall, this time sliding my hands up her dress to cup her ass. She moans into my mouth, but we’re briefly interrupted when the doors ping open. We stumble to her room. Inside, there’s no waiting. She unbuttons my shirt and runs her hands down my chest, carefully moving them along my abs.
My belt buckle echoes through the room as the metal hits the floor along with my jeans. Tori positions herself on her knees, caressing my cock through my boxers. Goddamn, the pre-cum is oozing out. Fucking suck it already.
I flinch as she pulls them down, and I’m bare, waiting, ready, needing her lips to wrap around it, wanting to feel my tip touch the back of her throat, wanting her muscles to choke as she takes me all in. This delayed gratification bullshit is normally hot, but I need a release and I need it now.
Her tongue gracefully circles the head of my cock, spreading myself all over her lips. I place my hand on her head and wrap her ponytail around my hand, forcefully pulling her in. I jerk as I feel her throat enclose on my cock, causing her to gag. I let out a moan and repeat the action until I hear the click of the door.
I close my eyes and wait for her touch. What was her name again? Jesus, who gives a fuck.
The warmth of her body presses against my back, her nipples erect as I feel them protrude through her dress and against my skin. She runs her hands along my torso from behind, making her way down to Tori’s face where she places her hands on her cheeks gently before directing her head to take me in deeper.
My body reacts instantly. The familiar pressure is rising. Self-control, Julian. C’mon, you’ve done this a thousand times with women hotter than this.
Don’t. Fucking. Go. There.
Okay, clear train of thought.
There are two women here, so let’s have some fun because God knows I deserve it.
Big tits moves toward my front until her face is in line with mine. I crash my lips onto hers, her kisses frenzied, and her moans loud. She’s begging me to suck on these beautiful tits of hers. I don’t break the kiss. My fingers trail her body until they’re dancing around her bra. With one swift move, my hands are tweaking her nipples, squeezing her tits, barely able to caress them in my hands.
They are fucking huge.
I lean my head down, ripping the dress, exposing her tits. My tongue rolls around her erect nipples, tugging them as she demands I bite them harder. I continue doing so until a warm breath engulfs me, and Tori is by my side taking her in as well. I tilt my head to the left, shoving my tongue into Tori’s mouth, wanting to taste it all.
Her eyes lock onto mine, and that desire, the raw sexual appetite, consumes us in that one gaze.
She wants to taste her wet arousal.
And I want to taste her as well.
Like hungry lions fighting for their prey, we both take her to the bed and lay her spread wide, ready to devour every inch.
And just like in the wild, I take her first, tasting every part of her. Pushing her to command I fuck her instantly, but I don’t. I stop and back away.
Tori makes her move, and I witness what I came for.
The scene is paralyzing any rational thoughts I have. My mind is clouded, m
y body is reacting in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. The volcano of pressure is building from within, and I tense, trying to divert the spasms threatening to consume me. Instead, I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths.
Upon opening my eyes, I have control again.
But watching Tori gliding her tongue along her clit is enough to bring back the feeling.
In the blink of an eye, I’m protected and ready to take this one home.
I slam into her with force, her yelp is more of a cry as I push down deeper. Her walls are caving, and I feel the sensation surround my throbbing cock. I pull out, her desperate pleas begging me to enter her.
But I don’t.
Instead, I tell her to lie the fuck down because this time, it’s her turn to be the prey.
And goddammit, I’m going to hunt her down until every single fantasy of mine is satisfied.
We have all night.
And these two ladies are ready to play.
“I have two words for you. Beach. Party,” Eric announces.
Here we go.
It’s way too early for this shit. I have a sex hangover, the best kind which leaves you so fucking sore in parts you never knew existed. Perhaps, I’m missing the whole point of being single. Who needs relationships when I can have two girls suck my dick at one time?
Two girls who ate each other out like it was a marathon.
Two girls with no objections to me fucking them in their pussies and their asses.
One girl who had no issue with me fucking her tits until I came all over her face, only to watch Tori clean it all up.
That was un-fucking-believable.
“Ahem… I feel like I’m the giant gay in the room being ignored,” Eric pouts.
Tristan scratches his head. “Eric, I think you mean elephant.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
A yawn escapes my mouth. “Can both of you just shut up, please, for just a second? Actually, make it an hour.”
So, this is the thing, the PlayStation isn’t as bad as I first thought. In fact, it’s a welcome distraction.
I’ve been on a high, a clean high, since last night. I blew my load twice, the much-needed relief I was after. On top of that, I’m making positive progress on my manuscript. Tristan even commented that I was in better spirits, and after a few beers, it led to him showing me how to play this game. Sure, I suck. Tristan said we make a great team, and so five hours later, we’re deep in the middle of a mission when Eric comes over.
