by Shey Stahl
Sunday morning, I was back online with Brevin. Maybe this was round two that he talked about. Whatever it was, I welcomed it and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why.
Sitting down with my coffee next to me, I made myself comfortable and opened the laptop to reply to his message.
Wakes22: I’ve been thinking about you all morning.
Cutiewitbootie: Me too. I want us to hook up but I’m scared. He’d know it’s you.
Wakes22: I’m not sure I want him there for when I finally have you. Feelin’ naughty?
In a way, there were certain parts of this Brevin was avoiding discussing. He wanted to hook up with me but when it came time to discuss being with him, he avoided that and basically asked when he could have me alone.
Cutiewitbootie: Maybe.
Wakes22: Come on, sexy, you know you are. Show me that pussy.
Wanting to tease him, I sent him a picture right away. Going commando worked out well these days. Easier to snap pussy pics. With my legs spread open and the only article of clothing on me an old T-shirt of Josh’s, I wondered if he’d comment on the shirt.
Wakes22: You have the best pussy. I bet it’s nice and tight.
Well, he didn’t comment on the shirt so that was good.
Cutiewitbootie: So I’ve been told.
Wakes22: I wanna stick my tongue inside you first.
At least he wanted to please me first. Most guys wanted head right away, and then they’d think about the woman’s needs.
Cutiewitbootie: And?
Wakes22: And then with my hard cock and pound out all my frustrations from the day. You have no idea how hard it is working next to a guy who’s fucking the girl I want.
Cutiewitbootie: Probably pretty hard.
Wakes22: Don’t tease me. I’ll bend you over and smack that ass.
The vision of Brevin spanking me had me flushing all over, fresh fire spreading through me and settling in my tummy. My sex tingled, delightfully so and I rubbed my thighs together anticipating what that might feel like.
Cutiewitbootie: I’d like that.
Wakes22: You would, dirty girl.
He really had no idea how dirty I could be.
Cutiewitbootie: Did you find a vibrator?
Wakes22: Yeah, I went and bought one. The chick at Lovers Package asked for my number and told me I could use it on her.
I burst out laughing. Before I left his house on Saturday I told him I wanted him to buy a vibrator and try something. He made me hump a pole. Well, I wanted him to try something new.
Cutiewitbootie: Are you kidding me?
Wakes22: Nope. I told her she’d be fuckin crazy if she thought I’d use a vibrator on a chick as opposed to my dick.
Cutiewitbootie: I’d much rather have the real thing too.
Wakes22: I’d give you the real thing.
Wakes22: Now what am I supposed to do with this? I hope you’re not going to tell me to stick it up my ass. I’m not really into that.
My hand flew to my mouth when I thought about Reed and him asking me to stick my finger up his ass. I was kinda glad Brevin wasn’t into that.
Cutiewitbootie: I’m not.
Wakes22: I’d like to stick something up your ass.
Cutiewitbootie: I know you would.
Wakes22: Send me an ass picture too. Just so I have both for my night.
Cutiewitbootie: You’re greedy.
Wakes22: Hey, I went and bought a goddamn vibrator for you.
If we were in person, I could already imagine what his glare would look like. And I’d be smiling just as widely as I was now.
Cutiewitbootie: Oh, sorry. Lol.
Wakes22: Come on, don’t tease me. Send the picture.
Cutiewitbootie: Fine!
I wasn’t sure how to angle myself for that one. It took some talent to get these particular pictures. Gave a whole new meaning to selfies.
Bending over in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom, I took a selfie of my ass.
Brevin didn’t answer for an entire minute.
Wakes22: Fuck, that’s hot!
Cutiewitbootie: What took you so long?
Wakes22: I was getting some water.
Cutiewitbootie: Uh huh.
Wakes22: Shut up.
Cutiewitbootie: Pull that vibrator out and send me a picture of you holding it.
I waited a few minutes, not so patiently, only to have him send me a picture of him lying on his bed, his cock nice and hard in his hand, and the vibrator in his other hand, eyebrows raised. The look on his face was so freaking adorable.
I stared at his tattoos for a while and then his message dinged through.
Wakes22: Now what?
Cutiewitbootie: Turn it on and hold it to your cock, on high.
Wakes22: What? Why?
Cutiewitbootie: Because it will feel good. I assure you.
Wakes22: And what are you going to do for me?
Cutiewitbootie: I’m already playing with my pussy.
Wakes22: With your fingers?
Cutiewitbootie: Nope. Got out my own vibrator.
Wakes22: Fuuuuuuccccckkk!
Cutiewitbootie: Have you turned it on yet?
Wakes22: Yes.
Cutiewitbootie: And does it feel good?
Wakes22: It does.
Cutiewitbootie: Don’t stroke it. Just hold it there until you come.
Wakes22: I don’t think I can like that.
Cutiewitbootie: Try it.
Wakes22: I AM!
Just as I was getting into it, the song “Lick” by Joi came on my playlist. Seemed fitting.
Cutiewitbootie: I wish this vibrator was your tongue.
Wakes22: You don’t know how bad I wish that too. It’s all I can think about. I’ve never been this obsessed with pussy.
Cutiewitbootie: I’m afraid you’ll get it and the excitement will be gone.
I didn’t want to send that, in fear he’d peg me for being insecure, but I sent it before I could delete it.
Wakes22: No fucking way. I’m ready to marry your pussy, even though we’ve never been formally introduced.
Moving the vibrator over my sensitive clit, I began to imagine what it was going to be like with Brevin, the things he’d do to me, and I knew I wasn’t going to last long.
Cutiewitbootie: Every time it slides over my wet pussy, I think about that being your tongue. I want you to suck on my clit, gently nibbling on it before flicking out your tongue until I come on your face.
Wakes22: Jesus Christ, Logan. Can I please move my hand? I can’t take this fucking thing just vibrating on my dick.
Cutiewitbootie: Is it driving you as crazy as you drive me?
Wakes22: So bad. I just need to move it. I want to stroke my cock so bad. Please let me. Please…
Oh, God, he’s begging me.
What I wouldn’t give to hear him beg in person, low and rough like I knew he would.
Cutiewitbootie: Don’t.
Wakes22: I’m not.
Cutiewitbootie: Tell me what it feels like.
Wakes22: I can feel the tension building and the need to let go.
Cutiewitbootie: So you could come like this?
Wakes22: I’m about to. I want so badly to stroke it, drive myself forward but it’s hanging there, teasing me…
The visions, the anticipation, my imagination of him squirming around, begging me through messenger, pleading…it all was a driving force that sent my orgasm crashing over me.
Breathlessly, I held my phone in my hand and recorded my orgasm for him.
Cutiewitbootie: You got me off. Again.
And then I sent the video.
Five minutes later…he finally replied and gave me pretty much the best show in the world.
Wakes22 has sent you a video.
My fingers literally shook, my heart pounding as I pressed the sideways triangle for play. It was of him on his bed, an angle above him, like he’d put the phone on his head board looking down, the black vibrator on his d
ick and both hands holding the shiny black rubber to his cock. He did as I told him, never moving his hand, just left the vibrator touching his cock.
His chest and stomach constricted, his stomach muscles flexing as if he was doing sit-ups, but I knew it was his desperate attempt not to move his hands. With his legs spread apart about a foot, I could see they were bent slightly, his breathing heavy and tense.
“Fuck…” He moaned just as his cock twitched, long spurts of his semen shooting onto his chest and stomach. Groaning, his orgasm was long and intense based on his tiny grunts and the way his hips twitched at the end. The two-minute video cut off at the end when he let the vibrator fall away and held his twitching cock in his hand. He scooped up some of the white stickiness that coated his hard body.
Wakes22: Now come over here and lick this up.
Cutiewitbootie: I wish I could.
What the hell was I going to do? He didn’t want to be videotaped and I didn’t want Josh to know I was messaging Brevin. In reality, I was cheating on Josh, wasn’t I?
The guilt settling over me as soon as I shut the laptop made me feel like I was.
JOSH RETURNED HOME from Canada a week before Christmas. His mood was strange. That was the only word I could think to describe it.
I made him dinner, testing out some family traditions of prime rib and mashed potatoes. He was willing to eat anything, noting most of the time when they were in Canada, the food just wasn’t the same.
“Why was Addison there?”
Josh remained perfectly relaxed as he brought his fork to his mouth, the red meat dipped in Au jus sauce and horseradish. He coyly smiled back and he studied me, maybe trying to figure out if he was going to lie to me. “I told you…” He chewed slowly, and then swallowed. “…she came up to see Jeb.”
“And you?” Picking at the food on my plate by pushing it around with my fork, I noticed his demeanor remained the same. Relaxed, never on guard and not once did his body stiffen. Maybe he was telling the truth.
“Are you upset by that?” The deep roughness of his voice caught my attention, made me watch his mouth as he spoke. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
Was I convinced? Nope.
“I just don’t see why she’d drive six hours to see him when he was coming home in a few days.”
Setting his fork down, he stood, the wooden chair scraping over the textured stone floor in the kitchen. He stood before me, one hand on the back of my chair, one on the table. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what he was about to do.
Leaning down so his face was nuzzled into my neck, he dropped to his knees before me and turned the chair so I was facing him. Drawing back, his hands moved to the tops of my thighs, spreading my jean-clad legs for him. “Her parents live in Victoria. She was visiting them for Christmas and stopped by to see Jeb,” he said, a dopey smile present, attempting to convince me with his good looks and his rough whispered voice. “Now,”—with a firm grip on my thighs, he dragged me to the edge and then stood up, my legs wrapped around his waist—“it’s been well over a week and I’m dying to get inside you. Dinner was amazing but I’d much rather have you.”
My emotions were all over the place. I couldn’t focus enough to be in the moment, and I know Josh noticed. Not that it stopped him that night. He was far too gone to care.
I KNEW JOSH was going to throw a Christmas party. He’d warned me about how out of control it could get ahead of time. On Saturday night, four days before Christmas, around thirty people filled Josh’s house that night for his annual JD Construction Christmas party.
Josh was shit faced—as was Jeb and Addison—who was wearing a tight red dress clinging to her every curve and a Santa Claus hat, sitting on Josh’s lap.
Jeb was dancing with the receptionist.
I was told these things got rowdy at times but I hadn’t seen any of that.
What I didn’t know was that Brevin would be there. Well, I should have known. After all, he was his employee and it was a Christmas party for his company.
Determined to keep distance between Brevin and me, I did well for a while. Until I was in the kitchen making another drink and Brevin was coming out of the bathroom down the hall.
He caught a glimpse of me then and made his way into the kitchen.
“Hey,” I said, taking a breath and looking him straight in the eye.
“What I would give to fuck you tonight,” Brevin whispered, his breath tickling my neck in ways I wasn’t expecting.
It sent a wave of arousal over me and a jolt through my tummy. His hand slid up my arm to my shoulder when he swept my hair away from my neck. Brushing a soft discrete kiss, his lips lingering a little longer than necessary. What I couldn’t understand was how badly I wanted the feel of his lips, their warmth, the tenderness there forever. That right there told me what I was feeling for Brevin went far beyond what I originally thought.
It was the first time his mouth had made contact with my skin. As good as that felt, nothing felt as good as the anticipation of it, the way it sent my heart fluttering seeing his head dip forward and the breath that seized between us when his lips parted over my skin.
“We can’t.” I struggled to control my breathing with the way his chest pressed against my back. “Josh doesn’t know I’ve been talking to you and you said you didn’t want to be filmed.”
Brevin ignored my comment about being filmed. “I bet he does.” His eyes searched my face for something, an emotion, an answer that he would never find. “A guy like him knows everything.”
“So…I don’t think we should. You said you didn’t want to be taped.” I had to point it out, again, because I wanted him to know this had to do more with him not wanting to be filmed. Or at least I was convincing myself of that.
“I know.” And then he sighed, his eyes casted down, fixated on my hips. “Dance with me.”
“I can’t… He’ll notice.”
Brevin gave a nod to the family room where Addison was sitting on Josh’s lap. “Doubt he’d notice anything.”
I swallowed, anger rushing through me and ready to bubble over.
Brevin leaned in, his lips at my ear. “Life is too deep for words, so don’t try to describe it, just live it.”
“Who said that?” I never moved back, enjoying the heat from his body radiating against mine.
“C.S. Lewis.”
My mind scrambled to make sense of anything, find truth in something. “Words to live by?”
“I’d like to think so.”
Over my shoulder, I caught site of the party and Josh staring at me. Had he seen Brevin kiss my neck?
Fuck, what if he had?
Josh’s jaw clenched and he stared long and hard at my interaction with Brevin, despite Addison sitting on his lap.
Did he really have anything to be mad about with Addison on his lap?
I didn’t think so.
Brevin stepped back.
Quickly my eyes snapped to Josh once more. He saw us and wasn’t pleased, but did nothing to stop it. The only indication I got from him that he didn’t enjoy it was his glare. He took a drink of his beer. His eyes remained locked with mine.
Leaning forward, he whispered something in Addison’s ear.
The lump rose in my throat when I saw his hand on Addison’s hip, his fingers tracing over her skin. I wondered what the two of them were thinking.
He whispered in her ear, again, and she giggled.
It made me sick to think about this being my life forever. Did I want this life? The one where I had to share him?
An hour later, Jeb had forced me to dance with him. Josh glanced in my direction, his eyes glossy and weighted the alcohol swimming in his veins, his mouth near Addison’s neck, kissing her in the darkness of the room near the tree.
I knew that look and I knew where this was leading.
Could I do this again? Did I want to?
Why was I having this same feeling, every time I saw the two of them together?
Jeb approached
me from behind. “Hey, sexy, meet me upstairs.”
I wanted to say no, mechanically make the denial come out, but I couldn’t.
I could see Brevin glaring in the distance and talking near the door, wanting to leave but hesitating. Tearing his eyes from mine, he spun around to leave, the door slamming behind him.
What was I doing?
Not knowing what else to do, I took Jeb’s hand and let him lead me upstairs.
SOMETIME THAT MORNING before the sun had come up, I woke up feeling Josh’s leg against mine, and his breath hitting the side of my neck. Looking around the room, the only light was the gray seeping in through the dark curtains.
It was then as I stared at the ambient light I realized I didn’t want this anymore.
This life, the way where we had sex with Addison and Jeb constantly, wasn’t for me. It was a slow creeping feeling and now it was a darkness covering me entirely. I definitely wanted out.
Have you ever heard someone tell a story and halfway through it you’re thinking to yourself, there’s a point to this, right?
There is.
And here’s where it takes a turn.
Maybe for the worse, maybe for the better, I made a decision from the heart.
An impulse.
One I thought was right, at the time.
Not everything you see and hear is real in this world.
Have you ever looked into a mirror and wondered if the image you see, is right?
Technically, it’s a reversed image.
You want to believe you made the choice for the right reasons.
But can you ever trust your heart?
Consequences.
They were brutal sometimes.
But didn’t someone once say, it was better to cross a line and suffer the consequences than to just sit and stare at the line the rest of your life?
Twisting to look at him, his eyes still held worry as he scanned my face. This decision, what we were doing affected him just as much, if not more.
Handing me the helmet, he brushed away the hair stuck to my face from my wet cheeks. Neither of us moved, our stare locked on one another.
