by Nyla K
Tracien: It was a really thoughtful gift Lazarus. I’m still sorta blown away…
Swallowing hard, I chew the inside of my cheek like a reflex. I really didn’t want her reading into it this much. Now I kind of wish I had gotten her a fucking Amex gift card or some shit, so she’d leave me alone about it.
But deep down I know I’d never do that. I’ve always put thought into Traci’s birthday gifts. It felt like the right thing to do, and this one was no exception.
While I’m internally fumbling over what I could reply to that message, she texts me again, and this time I almost drop my phone.
Tracien: I wish I could have thanked you properly
I gape at my phone screen in shock, speechless and dumbfounded.
Typing out several messages, I end up erasing each one before sending. Things like, You can’t say stuff like that. And, No proper thanking needed, Trix. And even, Alright well have a good night!
But unfortunately the one that wins out is the worst possible response.
Me: How?
I’m going to Hell.
Tracien: Maybe next time you’re in the Champagne Room I could kneel for you
Fuck. Me. Hard.
My cock swells up in an instant, many wildly inappropriate images flicking around in my skull as the valet pulls up to the curb and jumps out of my car. I’m drooling on my phone screen when he darts up to me.
“Keys are inside, Mr. Weston,” the kid I know pretty well says, and I reach into my pocket, avoiding the python, grabbing a bill and handing it to him, before wandering dazed toward the driver's seat of my car.
I hear him thanking me, but I can’t be bothered to acknowledge it, because I’m still too busy spiraling.
Traci Wright is going to be the death of me. It’s becoming abundantly clear I won’t be able to just brush her off, not after what we’ve already done together, and how good it was despite it being so wrong.
Apparently she’s not over me. Not inviting me up to her apartment again after that first night must have been some kind of tactic.
I mindlessly buckle my seat belt and type another message I definitely should not be sending.
Me: What would you do for me on your knees Trix?
I place my phone in the cupholder as I pull away, and it’s not until I’ve been driving for five minutes that I remember the girl who was supposed to come home with me.
This is getting so out of hand.
Another message comes in, this time showing up on the screen in my car through the Bluetooth.
Tracien: You know, there’s something I’ve always wondered about you Lazarus Weston. Something I’ve spent some long nights thinking about… and imagining
I’m a responsible driver, so it kills me to wait until I’m stopped at a red light long enough to type out my response.
Me: Tell me
Tracien: How you taste
My cock flinches so hard it digs into my zipper, even through my boxers.
Tracien: How long and thick you are. If I could even fit you all the way in my mouth
“Fuck me…” I whimper, dropping my head back against my headrest, running a hand over my bulging erection, all the tantalizing images in my brain mixing with the feelings and making me pant.
Some asshole beeps from behind me, and I realize I’m still stopped with the light now green.
Tracien: I mean, I’ve never done it before so I might need a little practice…
That last message has me driving past the off-ramp for Bayshore and speeding up on Ocean Drive, going straight to the same place I’ve ended up just about every night this week.
I don’t know what I’m doing.
I can’t go in. I won’t.
I just… I don’t know. I need to be close to her.
I’m completely fucking fucked. I’m going to burn for eternity.
But I suppose if I’m already going there… Might as well make it count.
Me: You can practice on me
Tracien: I want to. So bad.
Me: What do you think you’re supposed to do? To make me feel good
Tracien: Use my tongue. Make it very wet. Keep my eyes on yours. Relax my throat.
I can barely breathe as I pull up along the curb outside of her building and park, turning off the engine and grabbing my phone fast while my cock throbs and my balls ache.
Me: Jesus… Are you sure you haven’t done it before?
Tracien: Lol I’m sure. Just thought a lot about you over the years
I’m not sure why that response gives me the tingles, rather than making me uncomfortable like it probably would have before. I suppose I know she’s been thinking about me for years, maybe even since she first started fantasizing about sex.
Being the first man she’s thought about, even the only one… I feel like a god.
Me: More
Tracien: Would you hold my hands down? So I’m forced to use only my mouth
A ragged breath escapes me and I can’t help but cup myself over my pants, closing my eyes again, this time seeing nothing but Traci’s beautiful young face, looking up at me with those plush lips as wide as they go.
Maybe while I kneel over her, holding her hands down like she said, with one hand while the other fists in her hair, keeping her in place so I can thrust into her pretty, untapped throat.
Reading my mind, she replies.
Tracien: Would you hold my face and guide me, helping me suck the way you want it?
Me: Yes
Tracien: Give me more Lazarus
I know I should resist, but my willpower is dissolving. All I can see is that gorgeous mouth; hot, wet and warm.
Knowing it’s right across the street, in that building right upstairs, is dragging me through purgatory. I want to go up there right now and let her practice dozens of blowjobs on me.
She can practice all night if she wants.
Me: I would do both those things.
Me: I would fuck your throat until you have tears coming out of your eyes
Without thinking, I unbutton and unzip my jeans, reaching inside to free my cock, which is so damn solid I’m surprised it didn’t break being trapped in there.
Tracien: Come over
I breathe out of frustration and bang my head against the headrest.
No. Nope. Don’t do it.
Me: I’m not yours to order around Trix. Now tell me how wet you are.
Tracien: I’m dripping. It soaked through my panties
Me: Are you petting it for me like a bad girl?
Tracien: Yes
Me: Good. Now imagine my dick sliding all the way down your throat. Do you think you could take it all?
Tracien: I would try for you
“Mmf,” I pained noise escapes me as I grab my shaft, feeling it thicken in my hand.
God, this girl is killing me. I want to teach her things… So many dirty, awful, shameful things.
I pull on it a few times, slow and hard.
Me: You’ll have to do better than try Trix. You need to stuff it all down. Gulp it and choke on it.
Tracien: God Lazarus
Tracien: I want to do everything for you
Tracien: Can I please do it next time I see you?
The fact that I’m fucking my fist hard while imagining it’s her tight throat doesn’t persuade me to give in to what she’s doing. I can’t encourage us actually exploring these things together. As much as I want to, I can’t give in.
Despite what we’ve already done, I haven’t crossed a specific line with her. And I know I can’t do that, even though it seems like she’s tempting me more and more each day. Soon I might not be able to just park outside without going in.
Me: That would be bad
Tracien: But bad would feel so good with you
Me: Where are you right now?
Tracien: In my bed
Me: Are you naked?
Tracien: I have a sheer tank top on. I took my panties off… They were too wet
Fuck me f
uck me fuck me.
My hand moves faster, and whether my eyes are open or closed, I see the same thing. I see her perfect, angelic face, blue eyes sparkling up at me while her lips quiver in pleasure, full, round tits moving up and down as her chest flutters with rapid breaths. Her pink tongue peeking out to curl around the crown of my cock and lap up the pre-cum that’s dripping out because Jesus, I just want to feel her inside. Anywhere.
Me: Do you wish I was there?
Tracien: Yes. I need you to take care of me Lazarus
Me: You don’t even know what you’re saying…
Tracien: Yes I do.
Tracien: I know I only get this wet when I think about you. I know you’re the only person I see when I close my eyes at night, alone in my bed. I know you can make me come just from kissing me.
My cock pulses harder. My car windows are fogging up a little, and it’s completely insane, but I want to come so fucking bad. I’m past the point of no return, and if I can’t manage to fuck someone else to forget about this damn teenager, if I won’t allow myself to go inside and say fuck it to my moral compass, then I can at least let her dirty fucking messages and the fantasies they evoke get me off.
Tracien: I know you touched yourself that night in your hotel suite…
I’m actively growling out loud now, part frustration and part pleasure. I’m so fucking angry that she’s gotten me to this point, and I’m even more enraged that I fucking love it so much.
Tracien: I know you’re touching yourself right now.
“Fuck you, little girl,” I grunt at my phone in the cupholder, tugging my cock in long, hard jerks, while my left hand slides between my thighs to rub my balls.
Tracien: Because you want it just as bad as I do. And you hate that… But the hate makes it hotter.
Tracien: I bet you’re so fucking hard right now. I bet your cock wants to explode all over those sexy fucking muscles in your stomach
Me: Your imagination is running wild Trix.
My head drops back, eyes closed, so fucking close.
Tracien: Yea and so is yours
Tracien: Fuck… come with me Lazarus
I spit in my palm before I give myself goddamn rug burn, jerking harder and faster, seeing nothing but her, everywhere.
Gobbling my dick, holding my face between her thighs, bending that sweet ass over in front of me, or spread-eagle underneath me while I fuck her so hard she screams.
My balls seize up and my hand slows as I milk myself to orgasm, shooting on my stomach while I hum. “Trix… Yes, Trix, my fucking sweet… sweet girl. God, take my cock, eat my cum. Jesus… yes…”
My body is shivering through the sweet release; so hot I’m burning, like I’m sure I’m meant to. I’m breathless as my heart hammers, echoing in my ears.
Flecks of light swirl in my vision for some hazy seconds before I peel my eyes open and look around. The high wears off fast when I recall that I’m sitting in a parked car in front of her building, jerking off like a total fucking creep.
I glance down at all the glistening stuff on my shirt and exposed skin. Correcting my breathing, I shake my head, rubbing my eyes with the hand that doesn’t have jizz all over it, mentally berating myself for being such a fucking idiot.
How the fuck does she get me to this level? How can she, of all people, reduce me to things I’ve literally never done before? Things that are so completely fucked…
What has this girl done to me?
I let out a steady exhale and remove my button-down, wiping everything up and tossing it onto the passenger floor, quickly starting the engine before anyone notices me, as if I haven’t already been parked here for like twenty minutes.
Fucking moron.
My phone buzzes next to me.
Tracien: Was it good for you Lazarus?
Jaw clenched, I shift into drive and pull away, leaving that whole ordeal behind, going back where I belong.
There’s only one problem, though.
I’m fucking smiling. All the way home.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Traci
I’m so excited I want to squeal out loud.
Today is my first official day as an instructor at Aton. My first time teaching a class without Vaughn or one of the twins sitting in and monitoring everything. They’re actually not even here today.
Apparently there’s some convention for small businesses downtown that they’re all attending. Alli and Aleya think it’ll be a great place to network, and Vaughn thinks it’ll be a great place to impart her wisdom on unsuspecting attendees. Either way, I’m glad they all decided to go. It might be the only reason they allowed me to teach a class by myself so soon.
But I’d like to think they have some faith in my abilities at this point, since I’ve spent the last three weeks shadowing, training and demonstrating positions in their classes. And while the three of them are quick to provide constructive criticism when it’s needed - Vaughn more than the other two - they’ve had nothing but great things to say so far.
So I guess it was an easy decision to leave me in charge for the day, which I’m fully ecstatic about. I’m only teaching one beginner’s class at one-thirty, and then we’re closing up for the day. Even the receptionist, Claire, is leaving right after class. A bit of a half-day, but I think it’s a much-needed one.
I’m also giddy about not having a shift at the club tonight. As good as I’m getting on the pole, mainly thanks to my newfound flexibility from all the additional yoga and Pilates, I want to limit how much time I spend at Boom Boom. I know the longer I work there, the more Kurt will push me to work more private dances, and I’m really not into it.
Being on the stage is one thing. It’s like a performance, and I enjoy having all eyes on me, acting like a sexy little vixen up there, bending and twirling and hypnotizing men. But when I have to be up close and personal with those greasy perverts, I want to throw up in my mouth. I usually have to run to the bathroom to snort some Xannie before I can even work up the nerve not to punch each one of those losers in the face.
Maybe having my first private dance with Lazarus ruined me for everyone else.
But come on. Nothing can top that night. Though last night came close…
I bring my new diffuser bracelet up to my nose and inhale the gardenia essential oil I drizzled all over my jasper beads this morning, awakening memories of last night. Lying in my bed, teasing myself while teasing Lazarus via dirty text message.
Sure, there’s a chance he wasn’t as affected by that little convo as I was. But seeing as how he’s been showing up a lot more recently, since the night at the club, I’m willing to bet he was into it.
I know Lazarus needs to keep fighting the obvious chemistry between us. His lifelong bond with my father makes it impossible for him to look at me as just a woman he’s attracted to, and I get that. Honestly, it still bewilders me from time to time that I can be so detrimentally hung up on him, after having memories of him when I was as young as five. But for me, it’s easier. It’s like falling in love with a friend you’ve known your whole life.
But for Lazarus it’s more complex. He won’t allow himself to hurt my father, and I understand it. He still sees his loyalty to my father and his attraction to me as conflicting actions. What he doesn’t understand is that they don’t have to be. One might have nothing to do with the other.
I know Dad would be hurt if he found out the things Lazarus and I have done together. He would probably assume that Laz has been harboring some sick pedophilial lust for me forever, when there’s absolutely no way that’s the case. I, of all people, would know since Lazarus Weston never gave me the time of day until around the time of his failed wedding.
All these things aside, I’m still desperate for Lazarus to realize how good we could be together. I’m not sure he’ll ever give it any real chance, but a girl can hope, right?
The door to my studio swings open and my thoughts are cut off by the chatter of my class, meandering inside with their mats.
Smiling to myself, I take one more whiff of gardenia before turning the volume to my playlist up a bit, setting the mood as my students, if you want to call them that, spread out their mats and begin stretching amongst themselves.
I wait for the stragglers, and as soon as the clock strikes one-thirty, I close the door and dim the lights, like Vaughn does.
“Hi, everyone,” I address the class. They look calm and happy, which is already a good sign. “I recognize most of you, but for anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Traci and I’m sort of new here. I’m thrilled to be working with you today. First off, does anyone have any injuries I should know about?”
Everyone shakes their heads subtly, keeping quiet. I nod and continue. “Great. So we’ll go through some basic movements and flexibility poses today. If anyone has questions at any point, please stop me. Let’s start with a few breathing exercises.”
I take a seat on my mat, facing the class, and begin counting them through the moves, then we lie down on our backs and alternate between relaxed and flexed-spine positions.
As we’re wrapping it up, movement outside the studio doors catches my eye. It looks like a person is wandering around out there, and my initial reaction is irritation at someone being almost ten minutes late to class.
“Great job, guys,” I instruct and finish the counting as I stand up and go to the door, ready to tell whoever’s out there to either get inside or get lost and stop distracting me. “Let’s move to a seated position.”