This was legit fear. Real, actual fear.
What if she shot me down? What if she said yes and it turned out there wasn't anything between us except a couple good fucks? What if, what if, what if...
Laying in my little pup tent with my head on the grass outside the opening, staring up the stars, I decided to try my phone as a means of distraction. God knew I needed it, or all the bullshit jangling through my head would fry me to a crisp and I'd be useless tomorrow.
Shit, maybe I'd even rub one out.
Which was when I realized, with an actual shout of shocked laughter, that I hadn't so much as looked at a single picture since I'd met Eva, and hadn't jerked off since before I met her, either. Which was crazy.
Two and a half weeks, almost three, and I hadn't masturbated once; that was the longest I'd gone in my entire life, to the tune of...nineteen days, since today would be twenty, as I'd yanked it the morning I met Eva.
Crazy.
I unlocked my phone, and that was when I remembered Eva's little thing where she'd taken my phone and hadn't given it back for a few hours. I wondered what she'd gotten up to. I tried the photos, first.
And...holy hot damn.
She had taken a whole slew of selfies of her in the various lingerie outfits she'd tried on, and each photo was sexier than the last. I was hard instantly, as I swiped slowly through the photos, perusing each one in detail, zooming in to get the full picture, as it were. I groaned out loud, laughing, when the lingerie selfies ended, and became full-on nudes.
The first few were awkward, weird and not quite flattering poses, but she hadn't deleted them, like most girls did with selfie fails. There was a short video, next.
Just her face, her hair loose, a close-up, and she was whispering. "You're right outside the dressing room, so I have to be quiet, because I don't want you to know I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm doing it at all, really, but it's the craziest rush I've ever felt! I've never taken a naked picture of myself, not ever. I barely even know what my own privates look like, so this is...it's crazy, crazy, crazy, and so much fun."
She swiped her hair out of the way, the camera tilting and panning to face the ceiling until she went almost out of the shot completely, and then down and to the side, showing the changing room and piles of discarded underwear and bras, and then the shot finally re-centered on her, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her upper body and a hint of a nipple before focusing on her face again.
"Those first few shots are really bad, but they're funny, and I almost laughed out loud when I looked at them. I'm leaving them, though, just because I feel if I'm doing this, I should be honest about the whole process. I think I've got the hang of the right angles and poses, now, though, so hopefully the next few selfies will be better. If not...? Well, it's not like you'll be able to complain to me, since you hopefully won't see this until after I'm gone."
The video ended then, and when I swiped next, I discovered that she really had figured the knack of taking a sexy nude. Because...damn. Holy shit, the girl was fucking fine. Beyond fine. I hadn't forgotten how beautiful she was, how sexy, how incredible, but this series of nudes she'd left on my phone were...
They were art.
And they were erotic as fuck.
The first few were from the changing room, and then the background changed to what was clearly her room at the B and B, and with the change in scenery, the hotness factor ramped up exponentially. In the changing room she'd been limited to standing up, using a mirror. In the bedroom, though...god. She could lay down, sit down, lay on her belly and take a butt-over-back shot, all sorts of creative poses, and ohhhhh man, did she get creative. Like, no lie, she could do this for a living. I'm a pretty damn good judge of this shit, too, being a connoisseur of pornography and all things erotic media. She was good. I remembered her saying something about wanting to do art instead of politics, and that made this click. She was seriously creative and talented, and she'd done this on a time constraint, using herself as a subject, with something she'd never done before in terms of posing nude herself. I couldn't even imagine what kind of amazing stuff she could create using familiar subject and techniques.
Back to the photographs of a gorgeous naked woman, though.
I kept swiping, scrutinizing each one thoroughly before going to the next, and my erection grew agonizingly hard in my jeans.
Next on my phone was a series of video clips, of her in the B and B bedroom; the first one set up what was going on in the series.
The clip opened to Eva on her bed, showing her from the neck up. "So, Baxter. I found your porno. And ohhhhhh boy, do you like porn. My, oh my, Baxter. You're a very...bad...boy, aren't you? A little secret I've never said out loud, even to myself is that I watch porn. I might tell you later, but for now it's a terrifying enough experience to even say it out loud, alone. I WATCH PORNOGRAPHY. A lot of it. Every day. And I masturbate to it."
The clip dissolved into shaking incoherency as she lapsed into laughter. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh." It returned to her face, excitement making her lovely features glow as she fairly vibrated with animated energy; a low humming buzzing noise began, then, and a tiny vibrator slowly filled the screen in the foreground, and then vanished so the focus went back to her.
"You see that? That's my vibrator. My little tiny one, at least, the one I keep in my purse in case of emergencies. I've never used it, though, since I've never had the courage to actually masturbate anywhere except in my bedroom under the covers with the lights off and the door locked. I'm going to now, though. In broad daylight, with you right outside in the truck, waiting for me." She made a crazy, silly face. "I've never been this hyper about anything in my life, but you make me crazy, Baxter. So crazy. Crazy enough to do this. Swipe left, please." The clip ended, then.
So, obviously, I swiped as left as fast as I could and tapped the "Play" triangle. Eva was in the frame again, still from the neck up, this clip clearly taking place shortly after the first. She extended the camera to arm's length, giving me a mouth-watering, cock-destroying view of her naked body all spread out on her bed, legs parted, one knee bent and touching her opposite thigh to cover her pussy, her arm across her breasts to almost hide them as well--they were too big to completely be hidden behind her arm-- her hair splayed out around her like an inky cloud. She had a mini silver bullet vibrator in her hand, and she stared up at the camera, biting one lip, a nervous, excited expression on her face.
"I just watched a video, right before I switched over to record this. It was this girl, on her knees, going down on a guy. The way she used her hands, and her mouth? God, I've wanted to do that. I want to be on my knees, naked, my hands and mouth around a man's...god, I'm so darn--so damn--conditioned to be good and proper that it's hard to talk dirty, it just feels bad and wrong and weird. I'm going to try, though, and maybe I'll teach myself to undo the conditioning."
She slid her knee away, giving me a view of her pussy, and her finger and thumb twisted to turn the vibrator to full power, and she slid her hand down her body, baring her tits and touching the vibrator to her clit. "I've always wanted to be that girl, naked and on my knees...sucking a man's cock. Oh...oh...oh god...even talking about it, using those dirty words makes me go crazy. Sliding my hand up and down his huge cock, and then using my mouth...god, what would that even feel like? To have a cock all the way in my mouth? Down my throat? I'm imagining you, Baxter. God, I'm getting close already."
Her eyes were closed and she was circling her clit with the vibrator, and her hips were gyrating up and down, making her huge, luscious tits shake all over the place. My cock was on fucking fire, now, leaking pre-cum, and I knew I had to get it out before I made a mess in the only pair of jeans I had with me. I yanked them open and shoved them off, kicking my boots off frantically in a tangled mess, tripping over myself in desperation. I scrambled out of the tent and got onto my knees a few feet away in the cold, dew-wet grass, ripping my T-shirt off to get it out of the way. I kept watching the video, hangin
g utterly on each millisecond.
"I hope you watch this and masturbate sometime, Bax. I doubt I'll have the courage to go through with it, to actually suck your cock, but I hope, when you watch this and masturbate, you imagine me like I'm imagining myself right now. Totally naked, on my knees in front of you. You're standing up. Hunched over me, with your huge hands in my hair. My breasts are shaking everywhere"--they actually were, in the video, so that wasn't something I had to imagine--"and I've got both hands around your cock. God, it's so big. So fucking big, Baxter, I can't even get my mouth all the way around it. I'm using both hands, and I still have so much space to jerk up and down--" She broke off, gasping, whining, thrusting wildly. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, Baxter. I'm gagging on your cock. Are you picturing it? Can you feel me? Can you hear me gagging? I know you've watched videos where the girl gets gagged, the one I watched was saved to your phone, probably a favorite of yours. Good choice, by the way. Short and hot and right to the point."
She moaned, her mouth falling open, and I could easily picture my cock sliding between those plump, biteable lips.
"I'm gagging on your cock, and you're grunting like crazy," she continued. "You're jerking me onto you, so I have no choice but to take all of you. Ohhhhhh!" This was a high-pitched whimper in the back of her throat as she stiffened, her hips thrust into the air, coming. "I'm coming, Baxter! Ohhhh! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god. You came in my mouth, shot your come all down my throat, and I choked on it. You came so much I couldn't even swallow it all, and it spilled all down my mouth and chin. Maybe it even dripped out onto my breasts. Or--or maybe I spit it out onto my breasts. I've seen that before, and it's kind of hot. Is that how it was in your fantasy, Baxter? Did I swallow it all, or did I spit it out onto myself? I wish I could know the answer."
She finished coming as she said that last sentence, and the frame closed in on her face, sweat dotting her upper lip, her eyes heavy-lidded and lazy with sex-fueled satisfaction. "I'm going to clean up, get dressed, put on makeup, and go out to the truck where you're waiting for me. And I'm going to pretend this never happened, and hope you don't find this until after I'm forced back to my horrible, stupid, meaningless life, controlled by my father and fucking Thomas. God, that ruined the mood, didn't it? Sorry. Maybe I'll record something after this to end my little experiment on a slightly sexier note than me complaining about my future." It ended then.
I rewound the video to the beginning, and watched it as I jerked myself off slowly. When she finished coming, I stopped it right before she ended it, and instead of going through it a third time, I closed my eyes and imagined her, as she'd described me--imagined us as she'd described us.
I shot a thick gout of come a good two feet across the grass, groaning and fighting to stay upright on my knees as I came, the intensity of it making me dizzy.
Reminding myself to remember in the morning that I'd come all over the grass right outside the tent, I set the phone aside and quickly re-dressed and slid back into the tent to watch the last video.
"Okay, here we go." She was dressed, walking as she spoke, her bedroom in the B and B retreating behind her as she moved to the door. "You probably noticed right away, since I have a feeling you masturbate rather frequently, but I logged out of your YouPorn account and logged into mine. So you can see what I watch. Maybe someday we'll be watching the same thing, masturbating at the same time. You won't know it, but I will." She smiled brightly, and did a finger-wiggle wave. "Goodbye to the Baxter watching this video, and...oh my gosh, you're so gorgeous...hello to the Baxter in your truck, waiting for me in real life."
The clip ended, and it was the last one.
I immediately flipped out of the photos app and opened my porn account, and sure enough, instead of my recent history, there was unfamiliar stuff, her history. There was one that was obviously watched a lot, so I clicked on it. It was one of those videos that tries to add some romance and emotion to it, supposedly catering to a female audience or whatever, I guess. It was hot, though, and became all the more hot when I imagined Eva watching it right now, at that exact moment, her fingers on her clit, a big vibrator in her pussy, moaning, thinking of me...
I jerked off again, a matter of minutes after the first time, thinking of Eva. Of us. Of what we'd done, of what I wanted to do. I didn't need porn, didn't need visuals, just needed my own imagination and memory, and the thought of Eva.
She was all it took for me, now.
I shoved the phone in the pocket of my leather jacket, which I tugged on against the coolness of the night, and fell asleep thinking of her, hoping and hoping and hoping I'd get a chance to even see her again, to kiss her again. To find out if there was something here, or if I was fucking nuts.
13
Evangeline
* * *
With the bridal march playing, and the guests standing, I literally marched up the aisle and finally reached the archway, where Thomas and the minister were waiting. Father gave Thomas some kind of meaningful look, the way men can express a whole conversation with each other in a single manly stare, and then the minister was asking who was giving me away. Apropos, that--he really was giving me away, as if I were a possession, a prized mare.
I stood, trembling, fighting tears, and trying not to think about Baxter, ignoring the nattering, rambling bullshit of the minister. I think he'd been coached on my silence, and had tailored the ceremony to necessitate me saying as little as possible, it seemed, since when I finally I tuned back in he was in the middle of asking Thomas if he had rings to exchange.
At that moment, there was the snarling roar of a motorcycle from off in the distance. The minister stammered to a stop, glanced at Thomas and then Father for an explanation, but both just stared back in confusion and consternation.
Hope welled in the pit of my stomach, and I tried to not let it bloom too fully until I knew what was going on.
The minister tried to go back to the ceremony. "Thomas, do you have rings with which to pledge your eternal--"
The motorcycle engine roared again, cutting him off, and it was even louder now and approaching rapidly, and everyone was turning and twisting, trying to see anything, but there was nothing to see yet.
I stood in place, quietly slipping out of my heels in case I needed to jump out of the way or something--a silly precaution to take, making me think I had probably watched too many Lifetime movies. But then, with a third deafening roar, a black motorcycle rounded the side of the mansion and streaked toward us, ripping up the grass as the rear tire fishtailed.
I knew, immediately, who it was, despite the helmet obscuring his features.
The shoulders as broad as mountain ranges gave it away, the arms as thick as most men's legs, the trim waist, the powerful thighs gripping the snarling motorcycle. Father's bodyguards leapt to their feet and rushed toward him, but--obviously to me, not so obviously to them, I supposed--he had no interest in Father.
Bax only slowed a little bit as he carved across the lawn and straight down the aisle between the rows of chairs, scattering the people like bowling pins--they ran screaming as the bike approached. Hauling the bike to the side at the last second, he barked the throttle and squeezed the front brakes so the front tire locked in place and the rear tire ripped sideways in a dramatic arc, spraying sod and mud. He ended up less than three feet away from me, the motorcycle parallel to the archway, and his feet planted in the ground to prop himself up.
He was wearing a full-coverage helmet, which had a camera affixed to the top--his brothers would get a kick out of all this, I realized, and it was classic Baxter, to record this for them. I was grinning ear to ear as Baxter lifted the helmet off and tucked it under his arm so the camera would still record a level shot of what went on next.
I had eyes only for Bax, of course, but utter chaos ruled around us. Wedding guests were yelling and arguing, some were watching Bax and me, and others were taking videos with their cell phones. Mom was trying to do damage control, attempting to calm the guests. Thomas w
as freaking out, shouting at Dad, who was shouting back, and the venue security and management were hustling over, pointing at the damage to the lawn caused by the motorcycle, not to mention the broken chairs scattered by panicking guests.
It was chaos, and it was beautiful.
Not as beautiful as Bax, though.
He shot me an amused, cocky grin, wearing a rumpled but well-cut and insanely sexy tuxedo. "Hey, Eva. What up, babe?"
Father approached, his face stormy with rage. "YOU. Leave now or I shall have you arrested. I might anyway, you filthy redneck."
"You know people, I know people," Baxter answered, breezily. "Shut the fuck up a minute, though, I'm talkin' to the lady."
"Hi, Bax," I said, my voice bright and happy. "What a surprise."
"Yeah, well, I was in the area, thought I'd drop by."
I laughed, a genuine belly laugh. "In the area? Baxter...you live in Alaska."
He ran his hand over his head and squeezed his neck, and I realized then, with that gesture, that he was a nervous wreck despite his easy demeanor. "Yeah, got me there. Truth is, I drove sixty-some hours to get here."
"You did?"
He tilted his head to one side. "I stopped last night outside Scranton, so I could time my entrance. Gotta make a flashy entrance, you know? Folks love a good show."
"What is the meaning of this?" Thomas demanded, stomping forward with puffed-up bravado--but not before checking to make sure there were bodyguards nearby. "Seize him at once, Theodore."
Baxter's face hardened, taking on the ruthless, brutal, icy coldness of his Basher alter-ego. "You." He snapped his gaze to Thomas, who halted under that glare, visibly blanching. "You hold your fuckin' horses, pussy-boy. I'll get to you."
I couldn't help a snort. "Pussy-boy?"
"How I've always thought of him." He quirked an eyebrow. "And what'd I tell you about what it does to me when you talk like that, Eva? You're gonna make it hard for me to get off this motorcycle, and it looks like I got a bit of a tussle brewing."
I bit my lip, hesitating, and then let fly the joke running through my head. "I'm...making it hard to get off, huh?"
Good Girl Gone Badd Page 23
