by Olivia Fox
When Curtis first started rubbing me I froze. I knew the other two could see, could feel their eyes moving lustily from the telly to my little skirt, but I didn’t say no. It shocked me - scared me - but it felt good. I loved that Curtis couldn’t keep his hands off me, and more than that, I wanted to please him.
So when he pulled my skirt up over my thighs, revealing my little satin thong, I let him. Just like I let him slide his hand inside the flimsy pink fabric to push his fingers inside me.
I couldn’t move. Gabe and Jesse were shifting either side of me, shuffling with their zippers as Curtis worked his fingers into a slick, steady rhythm. He lulled me with his words the whole time, whispering sweet filthy nothings in my ear, calming me, subduing me. “So pretty, baby,” he cooed. “So tight. Just like a fantasy. You want to be my fantasy, princess?”
I did! Man, how I longed to be Curtis’ fantasy, burned for it. I wriggled against his cock, panting, telling him wordlessly I was his to use for his wildest imaginings.
“Suck Jesse,” he said.
My heart stopped. I turned to look at Curtis, to see if he meant it. His wild near-black eyes told me he did, and I couldn’t deny that look of his, the one that told me everything I wanted to hear: I want you, Emma. More than anything, right now, I want you.
So I slid to my knees in front of Jesse and let him fist his cock into my mouth. Too deep at first. Enough to bring Curtis down next to me, saying, “Easy… easy…” to either me or Jesse, or both, I’m not sure. But it wasn’t easy, not even when Jesse stopped thrusting and let me set my own pace. Not easy at all, but bearable, with Curtis by my side.
And then his fingers were inside me again, spearing me, and I knew what was coming next. I knew but I did it anyway. For Curtis.
“So fucking perfect,” Jesse sighed, toying with a condom wrapper. “Would you help me, baby? Help me give Gabe a birthday present?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have to. He knew I’d do whatever he wanted.
Gabe wasn’t gentle but he didn’t take long. And as he groaned out his release, mercifully Jesse did the same, spurting thick and fast down my throat. And then it was Curtis’ turn. My Curtis. Powering into me in front of his hammered, drowsy mates, until he too was grunting out his climax. And then he said the words that still sit wedged inside me like a bullet.
“Happy birthday, boys. Told you she was easy.”
The worst thing is, that should have been the end of things. I shouldn’t have let him drive me back to halls. And I shouldn’t have let him stay the night, hoping we’d wake up the next day with him still wanting me. But I did. And he didn’t.
He had to end it. Even after he’d used me like a dog with an old chew-toy, I still wanted to be Curtis Leigh’s girlfriend. Right up until he told me, “No thanks, love. I don’t date sluts.” Right up until he crushed my heart.
*****
Harry’s disgusted with me. I can tell by the way he’s tensed up, his arm thick and unyielding around my waist, and I can’t bring myself to look at him.
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he says, and then I know I’m right. I’ve ruined my chances with Harry by fessing-up, when quite frankly I didn’t have to. He’d never have pushed me. But now he knows and he can’t unknow, and I’ve fucked it all up. At least I think I have, right up until he kisses me. He kisses my ear first. We’re both too tense to move properly, so he kisses my ear, then my wet cheek, then works his way round to my lips. I close my eyes and let him lead the kiss. His fingers are threading through my hair like he so desperately wants my touch. I want it as badly as he does, but I’m drained, and as his tongue sinks between my lips I can’t give him what he needs. Right now, he thinks he wants me. But it won’t last. How can it, when I’m the way I am?
He pulls back to look at me in horror. "You think I'm too good for you. You think I'll figure it out then I'll fuck you over like he did. You do, don't you?”
What can I say to that? He’s pretty much nailed it. That is what’s going to happen.
“Oh my God, do you even know how totally fucking mental that is?! Have you seen you? Don't you know yourself at all? Do you really not know how truly fucking amazing you are? Seriously?" He's getting really angry now and yet again I'm uncharacteristically silent. He seems to be thinking the same thing, because he says, "Good. You stay like that. You just shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear it," and he holds me against him so tight that I'm not sure which one of us he’s trying to comfort. Or maybe he’s not comforting anyone at all - he’s attempting to body-meld, to mush our bodies together so I can’t ever leave him. And oh I hope it works.
It doesn’t. After long minutes of beautiful suffocation, he releases me. “I need your phone,” he says, and I hand it to him. No questions. I don’t have the strength to ask him what he’s doing, even when he calls Lily and asks her to come and join us.
“I need to go thump my big brother,” he offers by way of an explanation. “Don’t want to leave you here alone while I’m gone.” He reads the quick streak of anxiety that rips across my expression and promises me he won’t cause permanent damage.
Then he stills. His fingers spear through my hair as he holds my face level with his, our foreheads and noses touching as he speaks low and slow, with stony serious intent. “I’m not going to fuck you over, Em,” he promises. “Never. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you - let alone me.”
And oddly enough, I think he means it.
*****
Lily bundles herself through the door not half an hour later, dishevelled, red-faced and effortlessly lovely. Totally oblivious to the lusty stares she's attracting as she flits through the pub. Harry hails her over. He buys her a coffee then passes the me-shaped baton.
"Won't be long," he tells us, emptying Jake's pockets of his belongings, but leaving the jacket with me.
I don't tell Lily the Curtis story yet, but I will. It's funny. I’ve attached so much meaning to that nasty segment of my life - spent years beating myself up over it - and now it's out in the world, I can't help wondering why I've carried it alone for so long.
But that's the thing about shame isn't it? The risk of admission, the terror of the people you love seeing you differently. I guess, when it comes down to it, I'm just not the headstrong force of nature I like to think I am. I'm just a bumbling twenty-something, as lost and vulnerable as the next girl. Tough sometimes, but not - it seems - unbreakable. But that’s OK, because for once in my life, I’m thinking I might be mend-able too.
We earmark tomorrow night for girl-time. Pizza and ice-cream, and wine - God help us - even though it's a Monday. And then Lily grimaces and I know what's coming next.
"I think we should invite Cayley."
"No fucking way." Why mince words over this when it's point-blank not gonna happen.
Lily toys with her sugar packet. "She means well," she sighs.
"You are joking, right? She doesn't mean well. She's an interfering, heartless bitch who enjoys messing with other people's sanity. No. Fucking. Way."
Lily shakes her head. "She's more complicated than that, and - yeah - I know, I know - you don't care, and I don't really blame you. But she does care about you. Even if she's got a screwy way of showing it.” But I doubt very much she’s right. I love Lily, but she tends to see the good in people, even when it’s not there. And she’s not going to let this drop until I see the imaginary ‘good’ in Cayley too. “She said she emailed you,” Lily sighs. “What did she say?"
"Didn't see. Not interested."
Her lips set into a stern line as she leans back in her seat, breathing loudly through her nose.
"Oh for God's sake. Fine. I'll read the damn email," I mutter, just so we can move on and talk about something else. Something to do with her man-issues rather than mine would be nice!
I scroll through the unread emails on my phone, and there it is:
Dear Emma,
I'm assuming you don't want any more to do with me after the stunt I pulled. I under
stand. I'd feel the same. But before we sign off for good, I need you to know why I did it.
We've never been that close. I know you only put up with me because I was Lily's friend - I'm not exactly great with reading body language, but I'm not totally stupid. And I get it. I bug you. And - no offense - but you bug me too. You're crude and rowdy and I never know if your joking or if you're being catty. But I like you - when you're not taking a pop at me - I like you enough to want you to be happy.
It's obvious Harry loves you, even to me, and I'm sure you'll agree that's saying something. I thought you knew too, but maybe not. Maybe I’m not the only one with huge great emotional blind-spots .
Anyhow, I didn't realize you loved him too until you spelled it out for me the other morning. I'm good with facts, Em, not with subtle looks or double-edged comments. Facts. And the fact is, you were losing Harry because of some weird attitude to relationships.
So I had two choices. I could either ignore it, keep you as a kind-of-friend, and let you destroy your chance of happiness. Or I could interfere, wave goodbye to our friendship, and hope you’d work out whatever issues you had.
I wish I could say it was a hard choice to make, but it wasn’t. I had very little to lose, and you had a hell of a lot to gain.
I’ve been with my fair share of men, Emma. Not that I advertise it the way you sometimes do. And - I don’t mean to brag - but I always let them go. I want what you have so badly. No one floats my boat the way Harry floats yours. No one ever has.
So I hope you’ll forgive me, but I’ll cope if you don’t.
Cayley
“Well?” Lily says, eventually, once I’ve read the thing half a dozen times.
I shrug. I don’t know what to make of it. It’s not exactly the grovelling apology I was expecting, but it is very Cayley. The directness. The honesty. “She says I’m rowdy, crude and catty… and I’m pretty sure she’s calling me a slut,” I say, starting with the bit that’s easy to digest. The bit that’s Cayley as I know her - critical and superior. “But the rest of it…” I don’t know how to phrase this. It’s just too unexpected. Cayley, always seems so independent, so self-sufficient and headstrong. But here, she sounds - well - lonely. “Oh fuck it,” I grunt, pushing my phone in front of Lily. “Invite her. Before I change my mind.”
She grins then, because it’s obvious I’m all bravado. I can’t stay angry with anyone willing to lay themselves out bare like Cayley just has. Lily knows it, and I know it. We’ll hook up after work tomorrow, I’ll make Cayley suffer a little, but in the end we’ll work it out.
“OK, babe, we’re all set.” Harry makes me jump for the umpteenth time. For a big man he sure has some mean ninja skills. My heart shuttles into my mouth when I see the dark intent blazing in his eyes. “Lily, you - er - you wanna come too?”
I have to laugh, and thankfully so does Lily. He couldn’t have sounded less like he wanted the extra company if he tried.
“Let me see,” Lily ponders, rubbing her chin. “Do I want to be a third wheel while you too make fuck-me eyes at each other for the next couple of hours…? You know - I think I’ll pass - but maybe some other time, yeah?”
Harry gently punches my best friend in the shoulder and tells her, “I owe you one.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll add it to your tab,” she says. Then she turns to me, watching me meaningfully as she says the words that make me squeeze and kiss her pretty little head: “What are you waiting for? Go get dirty.”
8.
The flat’s empty when we return. Deanne’s stuff is still here, but Jake’s taken her out to lunch I’m told, and they’re on strict orders to stay away for the next three hours.
“What did you say to Jake,” I ask, wondering how much Harry told him. Would I mind if he’d told him the truth about Curtis? Maybe. Maybe not…
“Nothing, babe. Just that he’s a dick, and that he needs to check his facts before slinging accusations at half-naked girls. He can be a real cock when he thinks he needs to act all big-brotherly, but he knows he’s screwed up. He’ll apologize,” he says, and I shake my head because Jake’s apology is really the last thing on my mind. “He will apologize, Emma. No one talks to you like that, got it?”
I kind of like this side of Harry, the side he’s kept hidden from me for so long. And when I see his hands are tucked suspiciously behind his back, I wonder what else he’s hiding.
“We need to teach you a lesson, Emma James,” he tells me with a wink. “So… what do you want first? “The carrot or the stick?”
My eyes flash wide as I try to peek round him, to see what he’s hiding. But he catches me in one strong arm and grips me to his chest, his erection pushing hard against my belly. “Well, that depends,” I say, squishing a hand between us to rub his thick length. “Would this be the carrot or the stick?”
He nips my ear and tells me with a deep chuckle: “You’re such a bad girl, Em. We’ll start with the stick.”
“Oh, yeah?!” I’m trying to sound flirty, but it’s coming out all hoarse and needy, and I shouldn’t be at all surprised by what he does next. But Harry’s getting good at snatching my breath away.
The thing he's been hiding is quickly stashed in his back pocket, and before I know it, he's carrying me to the sofa. He arranges me there, front down, bent over the black leather arm with my arse in the air. And then comes the fun bit. All that time running Thrills has clearly turned Harry into some kind of BDSM kink-ster, because before I know it my hands are being bound behind my back. Bound with a shirt tie, I think, as another loops around my head to blindfold me. He flips my skirt up around my waste and drags my knickers down to my knees, leaving my backside totally exposed.
"You've been thinking some spectacularly stupid things for far too long, Em. I'm going to have to do something about that," he says, and I shiver with anticipation. I assume he’ll smack my butt - it’s the obvious next move - but he’s got something else in mind. He smooths cold lube across my puckered entrance and follows up with a teasing prod of something rubbery against that too-tight hole.
So this is what he’s been hiding. A dildo? Or a butt-plug, maybe? Either way, I’ve done this before - I’m not ashamed to admit - and I know how to ease it in. I relax my muscles and let them expand around the invasion, taking it all without a qualm. Knowing exactly how it’ll be.
"Oh, that's so good," I moan. Then I freeze as the feeling intensifies. Whoa… OK. This I wasn’t expecting… "Christ, Harry! Is that thing... Are you inflating it?!"
"You need to pay more attention to our stock, Em. In fact, I think I'll be trying all our new toys out on you in future," he laughs, but I really hope he’s not joking. Because this is sensational. I’m burning inside and I mean that in a good way. I’m so wet as I grind my clit into the leather arm, that I’m making a sticky patch on his sofa. And Lord, I ache for his cock. My cunt wants it most but my mouth’s a very close second, and - hell - if he wants to try an ear or a nostril, then I’m willing to give that a go too. I’ll take it any way he wants to give it to me, so long as he hurries up.
"That'll do,” he says when I’m full to bursting. “I'm going to fuck you there eventually. Not today, but soon, and we'll need to get you ready first. Relax. Breath, Em. That's as far as we'll go for now." But he doesn’t ask if I’m OK. He knows me well enough not to have to. He knows it’s not the threat of pain that’s got me tensing. It’s the promise of pleasure. And it’s pleasure - pure pleasure - I feel, as his palm slams into my butt cheek.
“That’s for thinking so little of yourself,” he says as he strokes my stinging flesh. “And this is for thinking I could hurt you,” he tells me as he smacks my other cheek.
“Irony. Nice touch,” I pant, and his low, throaty laugh makes my clit twitch with longing.
“No talking,” he warns but his voice isn’t quite stern enough. There’s humour to it. A hint of a dare. He wants me to disobey him, and I’m more than willing to oblige.
“But I’ve done other bad stuff,” I tel
l him. “Don’t you want to hear?”
“Go on,” he says, though it’s difficult now that he’s easing the dildo - I’ve decided it’s a dildo - back and forth. He’s fucking me slowly with it but the pressure’s intense.
My breathing’s haphazard as I tell him, “I’ve been walking around with love-beads up my jacksie. Serving customers and everything.”
His palm flashes hot against my skin as he groans, “Tell me that wasn’t a lie…”
“Fraid so, boss,” I say, and another smack falls, this time landing below the toy, scorching the throbbing lips of my pussy. And Jesus - I’ve never been spanked liked that before. I’m crying out as an even sharper need spears through me. I could come like this - I’m so close - but I want everything he has to give me.
He laughs behind me, pressing kisses to my heated flesh, then fucks me harder with the dildo. I writhe against it, my clit twisting against the couch. I can’t take much more. “I need you now, Harry. Do it!”
“Ready for the carrot?” he chuckles, and I almost tell him ‘fine - whatever - carrot, cucumber, courgette - just stick something inside me!’ but then I get his meaning. He’s going to reward me for something. Now, ain’t that a tantalizing thought…
“Please!” I beg him, but he’s already preparing. I can hear the slap of the latex condom, then the teasing head of his cock at my slippery cunt lips.
