Unconventional

by Isabel Love

  “But don’t you ever miss being in a relationship?” she asks.

  “No, and please don’t go there. The only thing I need a man for is sex. Everything else is under control.”

  “Okay, okay.” She holds up her hands in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. I just worry about you, sweetie. I want you to find your happily ever after.”

  “Ugh, barf. Reid sabotaged any notion of happily ever after for me.” Reid is my ex-husband, the fucker who promised me forever. He showered me with love and affection, told me it was us against the world, was my number one fan and best friend, made me believe in love.

  And then, when I was going through an emotionally tough time, he proceeded to cheat on me with his secretary.

  How cliché.

  Fucking asshole. I don’t want to think about him. He made an ass out of me and taught me a valuable lesson: love is for fools. After I divorced his ass and wallowed in misery for a while, I wised up and decided to use men simply for sex. I’ve been so much happier ever since. No feelings are involved, only orgasms, a mutual exchange of pleasure (if I’m lucky) and then we both move on. No unmet expectations, no disappointment, no hurt feelings, and no cheating douchebags.

  “I just think you’re letting him rob you of a chance at something beautiful with someone,” she says wistfully.

  “I’m glad you have Max, babe, but I’m okay the way I am. I’m 32 years old, I make a living off of my art, and I love my home. I’m happy with my life, honest,” I say, trying yet again to convince her. “Tell me about you. How are things with you and Max?”

  She blushes—actually blushes at the thought of him. “Really good. He says he has a surprise date for us tomorrow.”

  “Ooooh, maybe he’ll take you shopping for sex toys. Have you guys ever played with toys together?” I love watching her squirm. Monica isn’t exactly shy, she just hasn’t embraced her sexuality as openly as I have.

  “No way!” she splutters.

  “Maybe he’s planning for your first night of anal!” I guess.

  “Uhh…” She looks to the side.

  “Shut the fuck up! Did he already pop your anal cherry?” I’m impressed—Max is taking good care of my girl.

  Her face turns bright red and she bites her lip. That is all the answer I need.

  “He so totally did! Was it good? Bad? Tell me all the dirty details!” I press.

  She clears her throat and shrugs. “I never thought I’d like that kind of thing, but Max makes everything so good for me.”

  “So you liked it! I knew you were a closet anal whore!”

  “Quinn!” She throws a pillow at me in mock outrage.

  “What’s the big deal?” I deflect the pillow and save my bowl of ice cream from falling off my lap. “I like anal. If it’s done well, it’s awesome. It’s all about lube and preparation. Toys help, too. If you hold a vibrator against your clit while he’s breaching the back door, you barely notice any pain at all,” I inform her, matter-of-factly.

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Miss Sexpert.”

  “The next step is to put the vibrator in your hooter while Max’s dick is in your tooter. That, my friend, feels amazing. Max would love it and so would you. I recommend you surprise him with it next time.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Double penetration for the monogamous.”

  She laughs at my choice of words and licks her spoon. “Sounds painful.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing unless you try.”

  “Have you ever?” She raises her eyebrows.

  “Used a toy during anal? Yes.”

  “No, I mean, have you ever had sex with two guys at the same time?”

  “Not yet. I’ve never had the opportunity arise. Have you?” I’m 100% sure she hasn’t.

  “No way, threesomes are a hard limit for me. I’m not that kind of girl.” She shakes her head from side to side.

  “Listen to you, Miss Hard Limit. Where did you learn that term?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I do read you know. I love me some good smut.”

  “Ooooh, tell me, tell me! What’s the kinkiest, filthiest book you’ve read that you never want anyone to find out you read?” I love reading smut.

  “I’m not telling you!”

  “I bet I’ve read it, too. Hey, you want to know what I just read that was so good?”

  “What?”

  “The Unrequited by Saffron Kent. It’s amazing, you have to read it.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “Forbidden love. A college student falls in love with her professor—her married professor.”

  Her eyebrows shoot up. “Teacher-student is my favorite.”

  “It’s hot as fuck. She gives him a BJ under his desk.” A small, secretive smile blossoms on her face at the word desk. “Wait, have you and Max fucked on your desk at work?”

  There’s that blush again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Oh, look at the time.” She checks her wrist that doesn’t have a watch on it.

  I laugh at her. “Monica! You hussy!”

  “Shut up!” She laughs.

  We chat about books for a while, then catch up on other less fun topics like work and family.

  Once she heads out, I tidy up our mess, wash the ice cream bowls, and wash up for the night. I change into my sleep attire, which consists of a tank top and underwear, and then I slide into bed and burrow into the soft sheets. I reach for my laptop, open my nightstand drawer, and pick out my favorite vibrator.

  It’s Tumblr time.

  As I log in to my account and wait for it to load, my thoughts drift back to that night with Charlie. I remember him watching me when I kissed the sexy guy on the dance floor. He didn’t look away when he saw me entwined with someone else, and he didn’t look jealous, either. He looked aroused, and he kept watching me. I loved it. Holding his gaze while I was in the arms of someone else…it was intoxicating. I wanted him to watch me.

  Then later, stumbling on him, seeing him touch that other woman…I should have left right away, but he caught me and his eyes dared me to stay.

  Fuck.

  My body warms at the memory. My Tumblr account is my go-to source for porn and I follow a wide variety of pages. I scroll down, skimming over the pictures of male/female couples. Then I see a GIF that catches my eye: a naked woman with a man fucking her from behind. The look on her face is pure pleasure and she stares into the eyes of a second man, seated in the corner of the room. This man is fully dressed, but he has his cock out and is stroking it while he watches the woman get fucked.

  I picture myself as the woman, in a room with two men, one fucking me while the other watches. God, why does that turn me on so much? Then I picture Charlie being the man who watches me take another man’s cock and my pussy clenches. I imagine him jacking off, watching me come while another man comes inside me. Whew.

  Time to turn on my vibrator. I run it over my underwear, teasing my clit without giving it too much stimulation. I could come in two seconds, but where’s the fun in that? I want to draw it out a bit. Closing my legs around the vibrator, I hold it in place against my panties while I keep scrolling down the website. I want to find a video to watch. I play a little game with myself when I masturbate—I try to see if I can come at the same time the people in the video do. On Tumblr, though, not all videos are created equal. Sometimes it takes a while to find something that strikes my fancy.

  A few scrolls later, a video gets my attention. This time, it’s a brunette woman watching while a man fucks a busty blonde. Yes. I scoot my underwear down and touch the vibrator directly against my wet folds, moving it up and down while I watch. The man is nowhere near as hot as Charlie is, but the blonde kind of resembles Miss Double D. The brunette is sitting back against the headboard while the couple fucking is lying across the bed sideways, right in front of her. She strums her clit as the man thrusts into the blonde over and over again. Fuck, I like that. I push the vibrator inside me and pump it in time with the man on the video. He comes all
over the girls’ tits, and the brunette crawls over to them and licks it off her. My eyes widen as I watch her lick the man’s cum off another woman’s chest and I can’t hold back my orgasm. Pleasure so intense it almost hurts courses through me and I tremble through my release. I turn my vibrator off, the sensation quickly becoming too much for my pulsating clit, and catch my breath.

  Fuck, that was hot.

  Would I ever want to do that? Watch Charlie fuck someone else?

  Lick his cum off of someone else?

  Or would I want him to watch me? See him stroke his cock while I suck some other man’s dick?

  My imagination goes wild with the possibilities.

  But that’s all it is—a fantasy. Just my imagination.

  So what if I get off to thoughts of a threesome?

  That doesn’t mean I want it to happen in real life.

  I mean, I’m not that kind of girl.

  Am I?

  Debauched.

  LOGAN, MAX, AND I have a long standing date at O’Malley’s for happy hour on Fridays, and we all try to make it unless there’s a legitimate reason to miss.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” Logan comments when I arrive 15 minutes late.

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry I’m late. I’ll buy the next round.” I greet each of them with a hearty hug, giving Max an extra squeeze. “Congratulations, buddy. I can’t believe you’re getting married!!” I tell him. He beams at me and I can’t help but smile back at him as I take a seat and start pouring a beer into the empty cup waiting for me.

  “Thanks. It feels a bit too good to be true.”

  “I always thought Logan and Tate would be the first ones to get married.” I look over at Logan. “What gives? You guys have been together for a million years. What are you waiting for?”

  Logan throws a peanut at me. “Fuck off, dude. Why aren’t you getting married? Oh, that’s right, because you can’t keep a woman around long enough.”

  I burst out laughing. “It’s not that I can’t keep a woman around long enough, it’s that I don’t want to.”

  “Well there you go,” Logan points out. “You have your life choices and I have mine.”

  Point taken. “Wow, I didn’t realize you were on your period,” I mutter. Turning my attention back to Max, I ask him, “So when will you guys tie the knot?”

  “We haven’t planned that far ahead, but I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d let me. Will you guys be my best men?” He looks from me to Logan.

  “Both of us?” I ask him, surprised. The three of us have been best friends since grade school, but I always figured he’d ask Logan—he’s way better at adulting than I am.

  “Of course!”

  “You know I’ll probably make inappropriate comments in my best man speech, right? Are you sure you don’t want to limit my duties to just a regular groomsman? I think I can handle that without fucking it up.”

  “You’re not going to fuck anything up, Charlie. I want you to be my best man, inappropriate comments and all.” He smiles at me.

  “But you know my speech is going to be better, right?” Logan asks him.

  “Fuck you, Logan. My speech is going to kick your speech’s ass,” I say, puffing out my chest in mock seriousness.

  Max chuckles. “Both of your speeches are going to be awesome.”

  I narrow my eyes at Logan, who smirks at me with confidence. It’s on. I need to start working on mine immediately.

  “So how’s work going?” Max asks Logan.

  As he tells us about the latest with his job, my cell vibrates in my pocket. I take it out and see it’s a text from Quinn. Hmmm. She usually doesn’t get in touch with me unless she’s feeling frisky. I click on the notification to open the text, curious to see what she said.

  Instead of a text, I find that she has sent me a picture. It’s of her right shoulder, and her bare skin peeks out from beneath the strands of her wavy red hair. The picture is not explicit—no private parts are exposed—but fuck if it isn’t sexy, sensual even. My cock twitches as I zoom in to look at her creamy white skin covered in freckles. I want to touch her hair, sweep it behind her shoulder, trace the path those freckles make with my tongue. My fingers swipe at the keyboard to text her back.

  Me: Mmmm, Red. Thank you for this picture.

  Red: You’re welcome. What are you up to?

  Me: Happy hour with the boys.

  Red: What are you doing later?

  Me: What did you have in mind?

  Red: Your cock in my mouth.

  Me: That can be arranged.

  Red: Come over when you’re done.

  Me: Sounds good.

  Me: Actually, I have a favor to ask of you, too.

  Red: A sexual favor? A BJ isn’t a good enough favor?

  Me: A non-sexual favor.

  Red: Hmmm, it’ll cost you.

  Me: I’m willing to pay you in orgasms.

  Red: We’ll talk when you get here.

  “Seriously, Charlie. Who are you texting over there with that grin on your face? You setting up a play date?” Logan says, drawing my attention back to the conversation.

  “Uuuuuhhh, yes. If you want to know the truth, I am.”

  “Please tell me it isn’t with someone like that one chick you dated. Candi? You know, the one with the high-pitched giggle?” Max comments, groaning.

  I cringe. That giggle was unfortunate, but she had a thing for anal, which kept my attention for a couple weeks until I couldn’t stand listening to her laugh anymore.

  “No. I admit Candi wasn’t one of my best decisions, but we both had fun while it lasted,” I tell them. I don’t mention Quinn’s name because then they will think there is more going on with us than there really is.

  “I can’t wait until the day you fall for someone.” Max grins.

  “You’re going to be waiting a long time, then,” I tell Max. Been there, done that, and I have no desire to repeat that fiasco ever again.

  “I bet he falls hard,” Logan says to Max, like I’m not even here.

  “He won’t even know what hit him,” Max agrees, grinning.

  “Have you met me? What about my track record for the past 10 years says I’m a relationship kind of guy?” I ask.

  “I think there’s a lid for every pot,” Max tells me.

  “And sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them,” Logan adds helpfully.

  “When did you two start working for Hallmark? I need to find some single friends.” I shake my head in mock disgust. “I’m going to go to the bathroom to make sure my balls didn’t run away from this conversation.” I stand. “I suggest you guys find yours.” Logan and Max bust up laughing as I make my way to the bathroom.

  My cell vibrates in my pocket again and I pull it out, hoping Quinn has sent me another picture.

  The universe is smiling at me because that’s exactly what it is. Like the first one, it’s not explicit. It’s a picture of her waist—well, half of it anyway. It starts just under her breast, capturing the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips. No nipple is showing, no pubic hair is exposed, only milky white skin with the sexiest freckles ever. I can tell she’s naked and lying in bed, her silky purple sheets contrasting against her fair skin. Mmmm. I make a folder in my phone labeled Red and save both pictures for easy access later.

  Fuck. I check my watch and see that I’ve only been here 45 minutes. Max and Logan will probably give me grief for arriving late and leaving early, but my cock is eager to get in between Quinn’s cherry red lips.

  I go to the bathroom then make my way back to the table, an excuse to leave on the tip of my tongue. It dies when Max says, “You’re not leaving yet, right?”

  “Uh, no, of course not.” I sink down into my chair and deflate.

  “Are we keeping you from your play date?” Logan smirks at me knowingly.

  I scratch my forehead with my middle finger.

  “You guys would never believe how much work having a dog is. I feel like we have a newbor
n for all the attention Sparky requires.” Logan says, changing the subject when I don’t answer.

  One subject leads to another, and I covertly check the time on my phone. 20 minutes have passed, and I really want to leave. Just as I begin to make my excuse for real this time, I look over Max’s shoulder to find Monica, Tate, and Quinn approaching the table. Half of me wants to bitch that the ladies are crashing happy hour, but the other half is so excited to see Quinn, I want to throw her over my shoulder and go back to her place. I raise my eyebrow at her questioningly.

  “Ladies, how nice of you to join us,” I comment, flashing them my most charming grin.

  “Sorry we’re crashing happy hour,” Monica apologizes to me, giving me big puppy dog eyes. I chuckle and give her my usual greeting, picking her up and spinning her around. “No worries, beautiful. Congratulations on your engagement to the male nurse.”

  “Easy there,” Max growls. I love seeing him get so riled up whenever I touch Monica—as if I’d ever be interested in my best friend’s girl.

  “Relax, you lovesick fool,” I tell Max, setting Monica down and holding up my hands. Then it’s Tate’s turn. She’s been with Logan far longer than Monica has been with Max, so Logan doesn’t even blink at my overzealous greeting. Finally, I step in front of Quinn. Her eyes are lined in purple and her lips are painted cherry red. It might look stupid on some other woman, but it just makes Quinn look exotic.

  “Red,” I say in greeting, a smile spreading slowly across my face at the thought of getting her alone later.

  “Just so you know, this wasn’t my idea,” she whispers in my ear as I give her the same greeting.

  “Whose idea was it?” I ask, setting her down. The only empty seat happens to be next to me, and I press my leg against hers as we sit.

  “I thought we should celebrate Max and Monica’s engagement,” Tate pipes up, “so we stopped by to pick Quinn up.”

  “Well, what are you drinking? Let me get us some spirits.” I collect drink orders from everyone and Quinn volunteers to help me get the drinks from the bar.