Nikki's Secret

by William Malmborg

  A few days ago you would have wanted to stay like this forever just because of that boob, he told himself with a smile. Now you’re trying to get away from it.

  Disbelief at what had unfolded this afternoon struck. He was no longer a virgin.

  And you were good.

  From his readings and media watching experiences Mark knew that most guys thought they were good, and would claim perfection after the act even when the evidence showed otherwise. In this case, however, Mark knew the evidence didn’t point toward a different conclusion. Amy’s reactions had made this clear. She had had an orgasm, and not just one, but several. That was huge. He had also lasted a long time, which seemed unusual for a first timer. Actually, according to popular culture it was unusual for men in general, the joke always being that they came in two or three minutes. Why this hadn’t happened with him he didn’t know, but he didn’t mind. Lasting a long time like that had been great, except when he had started to worry that he wouldn’t come at all. That would have been humiliating.

  Nothing to worry about now though, nor did he have anything to worry about in the future because even if he had an off night (or day) in bed Amy could remember how amazing this time around had been. Because of that, she would know the potential was there and would crave such future moments.

  He managed to slip free of her arms while thinking this, his body sliding under the covers completely and then popping free in the foot of space between her arms and the wall.

  “No,” Amy mumbled during this, startling him. Nothing else followed, however, and it seemed she was still asleep.

  Being careful not to rock the bed too much, Mark crawled to the edge and stood up, gooseflesh rising upon his naked body despite the heat within the attic room.

  Knowing he would just take them off in a minute or two so he could crawl back into bed, he dismissed the urge to put his pants on and headed into the bathroom, his hand easing the door shut so as not to disturb Amy’s sleep.

  Relief arrived.

  Never before had peeing felt so good; it was almost like another ejaculation, though he wasn’t sure why.

  Once finished he decided to clean himself off a bit, both because he didn’t like the odd feeling the condom had left upon him and also because he thought there might be a good chance that Amy would suck him off again if he hinted at it once she woke up.

  A few seconds later, with a wad of crumbling toilet paper in his hand, he discovered the bathroom was lacking a garbage can, and, not wanting to flush the toilet a second time for fear of waking Amy, he headed into the kitchen area where he knew there had to be a garbage can.

  With that taken care of, he went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water, and then returned to the bed, his body failing to ease himself in without waking Amy this time.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “Had to use the bathroom.”

  “It’s okay,” she said with a smile and then snuggled up against him once again. “I’d hate to spend all my time with you sleeping, though it is nice to have someone in bed with me. I get so lonely sometimes.”

  He smiled. “Me too.”

  “Then you’ll just have to come keep me company whenever possible,” she said. “That way no more lonely nights for the two of us.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  “And make sure you always bring this guy with,” she said, her hand slipping down between his legs and gripping his penis, which, naturally, began to grow.

  “Ha, no worries there,” he said and then, as her hand started stroking him, “Oooo, I like that.”

  “I know you do.”

  After that it wasn’t long before a new condom had been opened so that he could start fucking her once again, this time with her bent over on the bed, while he came at her from behind.

  17

  Amy had to admit, she was pleasantly surprised by the pleasure Mark was able to pull from her that afternoon. Never before had a guy brought forth so many orgasms from her in one event, professor included. He also was the first guy that ever managed to give her a clitoral orgasm, his focus on that area after fucking her doggy style for a while unlike anything she had ever experienced. Even her own masturbation moments couldn’t compare, which just completely blew her away. It was also the reason he was going to have a huge bruise on the side of his face come the first day of class, her knee having jerked inward as the orgasm arrived.

  “You sure you’re okay?” she asked for the third time once the second round was complete.

  “I’m fine,” he said and smiled. “It’ll be like a badge of honor. I can’t wait to tell people how I got it.”

  “You wouldn’t!” she cried and gently hit him with a pillow.

  “Hmm, sounds like me keeping this secret is worth something to you, so what will you do to keep this information secure?”

  “What would you like me to do, sir?” she asked, her voice taking on the innocence of a schoolgirl, a roll her professor had always enjoyed. He had even bought her outfits to wear to enhance the fantasy.

  “I’ll let you know tomorrow after class when we get together again. Just so you know it will involve your lips.”

  “Oh, that sounds naughty.”

  He grinned and then lifted his arm so that she could curl up against him again, a wonderful sense of comfort arriving as he pulled her close. Pain followed as her bruised breast was pressed into his chest and caused her to wince slightly.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “We both have our bruises.”

  “We do, but I think mine was more fun to get.”

  She smiled and then rested her head on his chest once again.

  He tightened his own hold on her and said, “I really like this.”

  “Me too,” she replied. And I’m not just saying it, she realized. The thought both thrilled and chilled her. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  “Aww, but I won’t be leaving anytime soon and once I do go it won’t be long before I’m back.” He ran a hand through her hair while saying this.

  Leaving for the day hadn’t been what she meant by her statement, but she didn’t correct him.

  “By the way,” he asked. “What time are your classes tomorrow?”

  “Oh . . . um,” she started, her mind quickly trying to think up a time that would sound legitimate. “Wow, see what you did to me, my mind is too exhausted to pull it up right now. I’ll have to look at my schedule.”

  He chuckled. “Okay. I was thinking we could get together between classes or something, or just afterward if nothing matches up.”

  “Send me your class list tonight once you’re home and I’ll let you know. And of course afterward is good, unless you think I’d be a distraction from your homework or something.”

  “If you are I won’t complain,” he said and smiled. “Especially if that distraction involves activities similar to those we did today.”

  “Hehe, oh they will. I promise.” Once that was said she rested her cheek on his chest again, and, like before, found herself drifting away.

  18

  Kimberly didn’t accomplish anything of note that afternoon, though this was to be expected given that she had no real goal when leaving the apartment. All she did was explore the city of DeKalb, her feet taking her up and down the sidewalks of Lincoln Highway and, occasionally, up and down some side streets if the areas looked interesting. One of these side trips brought her to the Confectionery, which Bill had mentioned to her at some point during their time together. It was located a few doors down from a famous local landmark called the Egyptian Theater, and pretty much consisted of every homemade chocolate treat one could want to eat. Willpower did not make itself known during her time inside, her stressed out mind deciding she could have anything she wanted. Because of this she bought thirty dollars’ worth of chocolate, some dark, some milk, and systematically put items in her mouth as she walked the rest of the street, her hand crumbling up the top of the large white bag anytime she entered a store for fear of acce
ss restrictions due to food.

  Her thoughts were few and far between, and when they did appear, they mostly focused on how unfair everything was. Thankfully, putting a piece of chocolate in her mouth would dispel these thoughts, though it didn’t clear them away completely. And then it happened. She was near a small park to the south of Lincoln Highway and caught sight of a mother pushing a stroller. Memories flooded her mind and no amount of chocolate would help dispel them. Tears came too, along with a weakness in her knees that forced her to sit down on a bench.

  Looking down at her feet she saw a pool of blood upon the tile floor rather than the concrete sidewalk, and felt the chocolate in her stomach turn sour.

  Not again! her mind pleaded.

  The image would not go away.

  When she did vomit, she did it into a bush behind the bench so that people wouldn’t have to come upon it unexpectedly when taking a seat.

  She then left the playground area, her mind vowing never to return. Unfortunately, she knew it was just one of many things that could spark a memory of her miscarriage and that more incidents like this would occur without warning in the days ahead.

  Back at her car exhaustion struck and she knew that even though it was only a fifteen-minute drive she couldn’t make it just yet. At the same time she didn’t want to simply sit there for fear that her thoughts would turn to the miscarriage again and the horror that followed.

  Call Melissa, her mind suggested. Call her and tell her everything that has been going on.

  A discussion on this idea was not necessary. Instead, her hand simply pulled out the phone, found her name in the address book, and hit CALL.

  Voicemail.

  Go figure.

  She left a message asking Melissa to call her back and then dropped the phone in her cup holder. She then risked another piece of chocolate, her hope being to remove the taste of stomach acid from her mouth. It worked. Even better, Melissa called her back as she swallowed the chewed up sweet.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, concern dominating her voice.

  For the second time that hour, Kimberly broke down in tears; her voice making this condition known as she told her little sister about everything that had occurred since their last talk a few weeks ago.

  “My God, why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” Melissa asked.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. Though it had taken days to unfold, it had felt like it had happened quickly and without pause. One thing had led to another thing and another and another until this moment. “At first it didn’t even seem real, but now . . .” she didn’t know what to say.

  “Did you tell Mom and Dad about all this?”

  Kimberly knew her sister already knew the answer, but didn’t chide her for asking and simply said, “No.”

  “And is Kyle helping you at all?”

  “Oh, I didn’t even tell you about that. I broke up with him right before all this really got going.”

  “Well . . . that’s good I guess.”

  “Yeah,” Kimberly agreed. Kyle would not have been much help during any of this.

  The two were silent for a moment, then, “So, you know who this girl is, the one who is leaving the notes and everything?”

  “Kind of,” Kimberly said. She wanted to explain how it was nothing more than a theory at this point, though one that seemed incredibly likely, but it all seemed too exhausting to relay, so she left it at that.

  “Well, my suggestion would be to find her and make sure she realizes that it isn’t you. I know this might sound silly given everything she has done already, but honestly, if she isn’t a full-blown wacko, she might realize her mistake and back off.”

  “And if she doesn’t?” Kimberly asked.

  Melissa didn’t reply, which, in itself, was an answer.

  “Yeah,” Kimberly said after a moment.

  “There is something else you could do, though I know you won’t like it.”

  “What?”

  “Give all this information to the police, which you should have done right away anyway, and then go back to Mom and Dad’s place for a little while.”

  “I –- “ she started.

  “I know you wouldn’t like that, but it would just be for a little while. The police should have no problem tracking this girl down now that you think you know who it is, and once that happens I can’t imagine it going any further than it has.”

  Kimberly didn’t reply.

  “And if this is all a mistake like you say then chances are she’ll have no idea where you are.”

  “I don’t know,” Kimberly said.

  “Just think about it, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And keep me posted on what’s going on. I don’t care what time it is, if you need to talk to me give me a call. If I’m busy I’ll get back to you as soon as I’m finished.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  19

  “Hey Mark, wake up,” a voice called.

  Startled, Mark opened his eyes and looked around, confusion filling his head. Amy’s face then appeared which sparked relief. It wasn’t a dream. Lord knows he had had enough of them in the past, ones that always left him disappointed upon waking, yet also turned on to the point that he had no choice but to look at some porn and play with himself.

  “Wow, I fell asleep,” he muttered.

  “We both did, actually,” she said. A smile then appeared. “I was going to wake you by playing with your penis a bit, but then thought it might be worn out from everything.”

  “It’s never that worn out.” He grinned and pushed himself into a sitting position.

  Amy laughed. “Men. The whole building could be burning down and yet you’d all still consider sex if it was an option.”

  “Well, at least you always know the answer is yes. It’s not so easy when the tables are turned.”

  “Really? Maybe that’s just because most women haven’t experienced what I just experienced. If they did then the answer would always be yes as well.”

  “Oh? Good to know.” An unexpected yawn hit. “Wow, you wore me out. What time is it?”

  “Almost seven.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, we slept for quite a while it seems.”

  “I’ll say.” And I could have slept longer if you hadn’t woken me. This, added to the fact that he had finally had sex, left him in awe.

  “By the way, the reason I woke you, aside from my being really REALLY hungry, is that your phone buzzed several times.

  “It did?”

  “Yeah, and I think one of them was a call.”

  “Probably my Mom,” he said with a sigh. “I forgot to tell her I wouldn’t be home for dinner. She worries.”

  “Oh, in that case you should probably let her know what’s going on,” Amy said. “Well, maybe not everything that’s going on.” With that she got up from the bed and retrieved his pants for him.

  The phone was in the right front pocket.

  “Let’s see,” he said while opening the phone to check the missed call. “Yep, my mother. Looks like I got some texts as -- ” shit!

  “What is it?” Amy asked.

  Mark shook his head. “Remember I told you that girl was harassing me?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, she’s still at it.” He turned the phone screen toward her. “See.”

  “Wow, why’s she doing that?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s really annoying. Did you know she sent me to a completely random address?”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Not too long ago actually, she told me she wanted to get together but rather than meeting someone in public like we did yesterday she wanted to meet at her place, only it wasn’t really her place. Some poor girl who had just moved in lived there.” He stopped, his mind debating how much he should tell her. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she was a fall back girl or something, especially after what they had just done.

  But she likes you, a voic
e said. What you just did is proof of it so relax.

  “What happened?” Amy said, unknowingly adding pressure.

  “Well, I looked like a fool. Brought flowers and everything only to learn the girl had no idea what was going on. At first I figured she just didn’t like what she saw, but then I kept getting messages and soon realized the person claiming to be this Nikki was just fucking with me the entire time.” He shook his head. “The worst is what that poor girl is going through though. Can you imagine moving to a new place for the first time and being pummeled like this from guys who all think you’re someone else?”

  Amy didn’t reply right away.

  Mark shifted his attention to the text, which read: HOPE YOU AND AMY ARE HAVING A GOOD TIME. Several others followed, the next of which read: HAVE YOU SHARED WITH HER SOME OF THE FANTASIES YOU SHARED WITH ME YET?

  “How do you know it isn’t really her?”

  Mark looked over at Amy and said, “Sorry, what do you mean?”

  “That girl at the house,” Amy said. “How do you know it isn’t really this Nikki girl?”

  “Um . . . I could just tell when talking to her. She is so distraught about all this and concerned. I showed her the blog that the Nikki girl used to have and the profile online. It’s really weird.”

  “I don’t understand why this person would send you to her house if it isn’t really her. And you said you’re not the only one. There has to be a reason for it, right?”

  “Whatever it is, I can’t figure it out.” He shrugged. “Neither can she it seems. I feel bad too because I told her I would help, but there isn’t really anything I can do. Plus I don’t want to keep encouraging this Nikki person. It’s bad enough she won’t leave me alone when I’m not even sending her messages or trying to mess with her.”

  “Yeah, probably best not to poke around, unless of course she forces your hand.” She reached around him for a hug. “Don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Awwww,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

  “Plus I’d be worried about this other girl. It seems the possibility that she might be this Nikki girl herself still exists. People can be pretty convincing in person.”