The Panty Whisperer: The Complete Series

by Sloane Howell

  "Is he okay? Tommy, is he alright?" I ask.

  "He's going to be okay." Tommy stares at me.

  "Are you okay? How are you doing, babe? Do you need anything?"

  "We're okay, Quinn, I promise. Tommy will be fine," says Megan.

  There's something in their tone. Something is off. I don't have a good feeling about it, and my face starts to tingle. My nose is burning, and I start to tear up before I even have all of the information they are hesitant to give me.

  "Well can I see Joel?"

  They look at each other, and I ball my hands into fists. Tears stream down the sides of my cheeks.

  "He doesn't want to see you right now."

  I start bawling. I knew he would blame me. I knew it. I fucked everything up. I'm such a horrible person.

  I keep trying to speak, but the words just barely come out. "Did? Did he say why?"

  "Look, Quinn. He's just shaken up really bad right now. It's going to be fine, I swear—" says Tommy.

  "Well what'd he say? He hates me, doesn't he? What did I do? I'm so sorry—please—just, please tell him how sorry I am."

  Tommy and Megan wrap me up in a hug.

  "Don't worry about what he said. He's not himself right now. This is just how he deals. It's going to be alright."

  I can't stop sobbing. Fifteen minutes ago the guy was practically in love with me, and now he suddenly hates me. I don't know if I can take it. I just don't understand why. He wouldn't have been there with her. He would have been hanging out with Tommy. There has to be something else.

  I finally calm down a little and look into Tommy's eyes. I know he'll tell me the truth if I really want him to.

  "Tommy—what'd he say?"

  Him and Megan look at each other for a second, silently debating if he should tell me.

  "I think—well, from what little he said, I think he might be upset because he didn't go see his mom for about two weeks after all the shit went down with you guys the first go around. He just needs some time, he's still processing everything. He's emotional."

  It is like someone just ripped my heart out of my chest. I hadn't even considered it could be something to do with that.

  "W-was, that something he would normally do when he would get upset?"

  Tommy sits there, still not wanting to say anything to me. He buries his head in his palms and talks through them. Megan hugs me and I'm about to lose it.

  "I umm—" He looks up at me with his sad, glossy red eyes. "I had never seen him go that long without talking to her. I'm sorry."

  TOMMY

  IT LOOKS LIKE Comic Con blew a load all over my walls, and I love every goddamn bit of it. Megan walks through my apartment, and I gawk, as usual, when she comes into the bedroom. Her brunette curls bounce with each step every morning after she fixes it just right. I stare around at the greatness that is my decor and give my morning wood far less attention than it deserves. Star Wars shit lines one entire wall because that's how I fucking do.

  Megan's fussing about with some earrings, trying to get them in, and I need to stick my light saber in that pussy real quick. I'll find a way. It's difficult to focus on Megan's hot ass and Tom's magic beanstalk sprouting from my boxers with Joel and Quinn's bullshit kicking around in my head. My brain doesn't just shut off like that.

  Focus on titties. Focus on titties.

  No dice.

  "I just want to purple lightning the fuck out of those two. Palpatine style." My hands gesture to Megan like I'm putting Luke on his goddamned back. It amuses me greatly.

  "This is serious. Stop playing around. What are we going to do?" She stares at me trying not to laugh.

  "Woman, playing around is what I do. You know this about me." I scoff.

  "Quinn is asking me a ton of questions. She doesn't know if she should go to the funeral? If she should call Joel? Leave him alone?"

  The reminder of Mom being gone is akin to running into the end of a broad sword. Megan has a blank stare on her face.

  "Did you make coffee?" I return her stare.

  "Stop fucking around. What can I tell her?" She folds her arms across her chest, and it pushes her tits together.

  Titties, death, Star Wars, relationship drama—my brain is extremely close to shorting out, along with my cock. Let's order this bullshit up by what's most important to Megan at the moment, and that'll increase my chances of a morning pussy hug by at least 110 percent.

  1) Joel and Quinn cunt shit

  2) Mom's funeral

  3) Star Wars

  4) Her getting to work on time

  5) Treatment of Tommy's dick 'n' berries

  "I'm not an employee of match.com. That is for them to decide. Don't put that skirt on either." I lean back for her to see the sheet propped up with my dick. I might even pull the covers down on the sides to make it look bigger. "Don't act like you're not impressed."

  Pink rushes into her cheeks, but she remains stoic. Admirable, but it will ultimately fail her. "Seriously. I need to give her some kind of information."

  "Tell her to ask him. Shit. Look at this fucking tent. I should get some kind of Boy Scout badge for this work of art." I give her my best "please fuck me" grin.

  "You really are a man boy."

  She decides to tease and pulls the skirt up over her tight ass. Goddamn I love this woman. I can't tell her that. It's too soon. People might start calling me The Panty Whisperer if I drop "L bombs" within the first few months. But it's a fact. Like the apple falling on Newton's pecker (how that little story went down in my mind). Don't give me that shit about it falling next to him. Apple to dick equals revelation of gravity.

  "I know this."

  She leans over me and bends down so I can see her skirt halfway off her ass. Dragging titties up my chest in nothing but a bra. I do believe I shall get my dick wet this fine morning. Perhaps I should solve her problem for her.

  "I'll ask Joel what's up. About the bullshit." I whisper into her ear while she kisses along my neck.

  "Thank you." She moves to kiss me and I wrap my arms around her and flip over so that I'm on top. Like her little tricksy tricks would work on me. I'm eye-to-eye with her and I can't wait to turn her to the dark side.

  "No. No. I'm late."

  "Jaysus woman! I've told you not to say that to a man. It freaks them the fuck out. It's right there with 'Can you see my dick hanging out of this skirt?'"

  "Fine. You should have gotten here sooner, Luke. Your aunt and uncle are dead. Mama has to go catch a ride on the Falcon."

  I shake my head at her and shove her skirt up to her waist.

  "Sorry baby. It's calling to me." I bust out my Vader voice. Shit gets Megan all hot. I work down, bypassing titties because no time, but I assure them I'll do something special for them later in the evening. My head is between her legs and I mimic Vader breathing with an Oscar-worthy performance. "You are unwise to lower your defenses."

  She giggles as I slide back up to kiss her.

  I slip my boxers down and my cock springs free. I glance down at it in all its glory. "An elegant weapon—for a more civilized age."

  She grips my hair, and I lean down and kiss her full on the lips, sinking my tongue in her mouth. She moans back into my kiss as my hand works between her legs.

  "You are bad. You know that?" A moan interrupts her words when my finger finds her clit.

  I lean back and remove her panties.

  "You better be quick."

  She's the only woman to ever reward me for a quick performance. I can get behind that kind of attitude.

  My fingers stroke across her clit and I speed up on her. She's wet, and her pussy needs to be wrapped around my dick. I line up my cock and part her lips with the head. I don't think I'll have any problems living up to her expectations after checking the temperature. My hands want to rip off her fucking bra so I can suck on those titties, but that would land me in the doghouse, and not in the pussy my dick is currently teasing.

  I look down and her eyes roll back as
I push into her. "Fuck."

  She moans as I thrust hard and deep. My cock is rock-solid and hitting her in all the right spots as she digs her nails into my shoulders.

  She flips me over to my back and my cock never leaves her. "Can't be messing up my hair." She squeezes my cheeks with one hand and looks into my eyes. "Seriously. Be quick."

  I hold my hands up and shrug. "I'll do my fucking best, Jesus."

  Her pussy squeezes me tight like she's been doing Kegel calisthenics. Black lace titties wobble in front of me when she speeds up on my dick.

  That'll help with the "blow quick" situation.

  My balls press up against her ass as she grinds on top of me. I dig my fingers into her hips. "You close?"

  She nods and my dick grows harder inside of her at the news she's about to come all over it. I thrust my hips into her and my thumb goes to her clit. She moans and clamps down on me.

  "Holy shit." Her nails dig into my chest, and I lose it. My cock kicks and my load shoots into her in waves as she shakes on top of me, all of her muscles tense and her toes curled.

  She opens her eyes and smiles. "I'm late, you prick."

  "Already?"

  She slaps my chest and giggles then rolls off of me. "I have to tell her something. Text me."

  "I will as soon as I get done at Buy Buy Baby, buying up all the Star Wars onesies."

  She glares as she shimmies her skirt down and throws on a red top. I watch her ass rock back and forth, curls of hair bouncing down her back as she walks toward the door.

  "Hey babe?"

  Her hair flips around like one of those big moments in the old movies, only it's unintentional on her part. Heat balloons in my chest every time she does it.

  "What's up?" She smiles.

  "You look beautiful. Have a great day at work."

  She flashes a shy grin and turns a little pink. "Thank you." She blows me a kiss as she walks through the door.

  When she's out of sight I catch her kiss and slap it on my Megan-flavored dick.

  I sit up in bed, and stare around the room. For a brief second, I contemplate growing up a little.

  JOEL

  WORK WAS LONG, and I didn't see Tommy at all. I sent him a text earlier, and we agreed to meet after work. I beat him to the bar and glance around at all the other professionals sipping their scotch and talking about work. I sit and stare out of the glass windows that line the front, giving a view of the busy street and business crowd leaving their offices. My mind races, and I attempt to think about anything that could possibly take my mind off of Mom—and Quinn.

  I want to call her. I want to talk to her. But I just can't. Too much time has passed. She probably hates me, and I've pretty much decided it's over—done for. She'd never take me back now. Quinn is more stubborn than I am.

  Mom would've wanted me to call her. She'd smack the fuck out of me if she saw me right now, to tell the truth. Sabotaging my own life is kind of my thing. It's just what I do.

  Tommy struts in front of the glass windows of the bar and walks through the door. Thank god. I can use some laughs. He weaves through the rows of pub tables littered with men in suits. When he nears, I notice that he's glaring right at me.

  "What's up with you and Quinn? I'm getting lawyered all to fuck at my house."

  "Nice to see you too, baby."

  "Jesus, how many have you had already? Fucking Dennis Hopper from Hoosiers over here? You gonna roofie my drink?" He bats his eyelashes at me.

  "You gonna bitch to me about your day first? Before I take that ass to pound town in the woods?"

  He gasps, and I can't stop laughing.

  "For real man. Just tell me if you're going to call her or not. I have to give Megan something. She's relentless. Like Templeton looking for garbage at the fair."

  "It's bad, huh? I don't know man. I want to. So much time has passed though. It'd be weird. I think I'm over her."

  He stares daggers into my skull.

  Fuck.

  "Really? That's how you're going to play this?" He makes finger quotes because he knows it irritates the shit out of me. "Over her?" He draws out the syllables for the whole effect.

  Dick.

  I lift up my hands all awkward and slow. "I don't know what to do with my hands."

  It draws a laugh, but I'm shit at distracting him. He's locked onto me like Maverick on a Mig.

  "I ain't fuckin' around, Herbert. Give me something. She wants to know if she should come—well—you know." His head drops. There's desperation in his voice. Shit must be bad at home.

  "Just—fuck man. Tell her no. It'll be hard enough already."

  I want her there. Her hand holding mine right about now would make me happy. But if I give in, there's so much explaining to do. So much complication. She'll never trust me. It's the right thing to do.

  "Okay." He actually appears serious. It's a rarity since, well ever. "How are you holding up with shit?"

  He looks like he might cry, and I might do the same. Two grown pussies sobbing at a pub table. We are quite the sight.

  Fortunately, the waitress intervenes. "Anything else?"

  "Yes, two more of these." I hold up my near-full glass of Glenfiddich that doesn't even have condensation on the sides yet.

  "Yeah, that's good." Tommy looks back at me. "Look man, it's hard for me too. You know this. We have to quit dancing around like it didn't happen."

  "I know man, but fuck." My fist hits the table before I can stop and stares shoot in our direction. "Sorry." I hold up my hands to the other patrons, then turn back to Tommy. "Yeah man, it's rough. Not gonna lie. How are you doing with it though?"

  "I drove down the street five times this week. Crying like a grown teddy bear. Wanted to go in and hug her, talk to her. I'm not doing well at all."

  I'm fighting back tears as I guzzle my scotch. It burns going down and doesn't stop once it's in my stomach. This whole ordeal is not fucking fair. "Thanks for taking me to see her. It was good. If there had to be a last encounter. It was a good one."

  "It was, wasn't it?" He smiles, and I do the same. The waitress walks up with our drinks and sets them on new coasters. "Thanks."

  Tommy turns back to me. "Hey."

  "Yeah?"

  "Let's finish these and go hook up the Nintendo. Play some Tecmo Bowl. It's what Mom would've wanted."

  I look down at the cubes melting into the whiskey and pick up the rocks glass, swirling it as the ice clanks against the rim. "Yeah. Let's do it."

  QUINN

  "I DON'T KNOW what the fuck to do. I'm a mess." I look over at Megan. She's trying to console me. I feel terrible for her and Tommy being dragged into this.

  "Tommy isn't giving me anything. I'm trying. I swear. It'll be okay."

  I hate Joel for making me do this to him, and yet it breaks my heart that this happened. He has to be hurting so bad, and I just want to be there for him. The fact he won't let me has me warring with myself, and I know Megan can see it. I promised myself to never let a guy get to me like this. It always happens. Someone always gets hurt, and it's usually me.

  "It's okay. I'm not going to go. If he wanted me there, he'd ask me." I pace back and forth in front of the coffee machine.

  "Are you sure?"

  The goddamn coffee pot is not filling fast enough, and I just want it to be done so I can get away from this conversation. I need to put everything into my work. The bitch brigade is standing over in the corner, no doubt trying to hear what Megan and I are discussing. I want to rip that fucking mole off Madeline's face right about now. Why can't life be simple?

  "Yeah. I'm sure." I can smell the coffee, and it's drawing me toward it. People are racing down the halls, and I try to think of everything I have on my plate for the day to rid Joel from my mind. It's not working. Not one bit.

  "Quinn?"

  Megan and I look up at Sylvia. She has on black pumps and a skin-tight black dress that makes her blonde hair more blonde. She's gorgeous, if I'm being honest with myself, but all I can
think about is Joel wanting to fuck her too, and I clench my fists. I reserve my anger because she's the secretary to my boss.

  Her bright-blue eyes are narrowed, and she appears in a hurry as always. "Jason wants to see you. Do you have time?"

  Her voice is calm, despite her appearance, and I know it's an order and not an actual request. I exhale a long breath, relieved to have a chance to focus on something other than how bad my heart hurts at the moment.

  "Sure. Be right there." I turn to Megan. "Gotta go."

  "If I hear anything new, I'll text you. Okay?" She stands up from the table and tries to hide the glow on her face. Tommy must be doing something right. Good for him.

  "Thank you."

  Her heels clack on the tile as she walks back to the building where the computer nerds reside.

  I head over to the coffee and sit in front of the machine, letting the aroma swirl around me.

  Focus, bitch. Knock things out at the office. Forget about him.

  Easier said than done, as he's the first and only thing on my mind every day.

  I fill up my coffee cup and head down the hall to Jason's corner office. Sylvia sits at her desk and nods, letting me know it's okay to go back. I walk through the door and look around to the windows that cover half the room and overlook the city. The coffee burns my tongue and I don't care, because I want the caffeine. Jason peeks up from around his computer. Pictures of his family line the walls. They're perfectly spaced apart, and a tall white bookshelf runs to the ceiling behind him. It's full of marketing and advertising books I haven't read.

  "Quinn, have a seat." He motions to one of the three chairs that sit in front of his desk. I'm usually only in his office for quarterly reviews, and my collar grows tighter against my neck. I look over at a large plant against the wall and wonder if it's fake or not.

  "It's real." He smiles as he looks up at me. His hair is dark brown along with his eyes, and they meet mine. He's always sizing everything (or everyone) up. His managerial style is very hands off. He lets people run with ideas. My hand trembles as I set my cup of coffee on his desk and watch the steam rise from it.