by Brandy Ayers
Weasley sat patiently as Charlotte emptied two cans of wet food into his bowl and topped it with a little shredded cheese. Okay, he might be slightly spoiled.
Once the cat was content eating his meal, Charlotte made her way into the bedroom. Despite the exhaustion weighing down her limbs, she couldn’t resist checking in on the message board she had been frequenting for years. She curled up in the large club chair she’d found at a garage sale after first moving to the area and fired up her laptop. A yawn crept out of her before she could stop it.
The moment she logged onto “The Young and The Anxious,” she smiled at seeing all the messages from her fellow anxiety riddled twenty somethings. She’d discovered the website a few years before when trolling the internet for tips on how to date while dealing with several shyness. Instead of tips, she found a community of her people. They were all fairly young, mostly single, and all dealt with anxiety in one form or another. Her issues were mild compared to the others on the boards, but she still grappled with them each day.
She clicked in and out of conversation threads, lending support where needed, weighing in with opinions, and updating everyone on her life. Though there wasn’t much to update. Soon a private message box popped on her screen, and her smile widened when she saw her best friend’s screen name.
TattedFreak: Hey there, girlie. How you doing?
Kym, otherwise known as TattedFreak, had been the first person Charlotte ever really felt comfortable with. They bonded online over their mutual love for Harry Potter and Charlotte’s fascination with tattoos.
Weasley’sBitch: Doing ok, tired after working 14 hours. How are you?
TattedFreak: Awesome, I get to ink my favorite girl this weekend.
The smile on Charlotte’s face inched up, nearly making her cheeks hurt. She’d been an ink virgin when she first talked to Kym, but soon the woman had convinced Charlotte to come to her tattoo shop and get inked for the first time. Kym dealt with a combination of agoraphobia, anxiety attacks, and PTSD after her time as a too young bride being beaten by her husband. She’d escaped his clutches at the age of twenty, and after being homeless for a time, got taken in by a tattoo artist who taught her the trade. Now Kym was one of the most sought out tattoo artists in Pittsburgh. She got booked months in advance and brought in well over six figures each year.
But she never charged Charlotte, and always shut the shop down so that they would be alone during their sessions. No one knew about Charlotte’s tattoo addiction, not even her parents. She had one large back piece that they had been working on for a year, and another smaller tattoo on her hip. All places she could easily cover up.
Something about the combination of the sting of the needle, the buzz of the machine, and the calming influence of her best friend made the whole experience almost zen like for Charlotte. She went to another place while being tattooed, someplace where no one judged her and she didn’t second guess everything she felt. It was a place just for her. Plus, she got a beautiful piece of artwork permanently etched on her body after.
Weasley’sBitch: I can’t wait. I can’t believe my back will be done after this.
TattedFreak: Believe it. Then we get to start on your arms. I’m already brainstorming ideas. You’re my favorite canvas. All that perfect pale skin.
Charlotte blushed, even though the compliment was something she’d heard from Kym often enough it shouldn’t have that effect on her anymore.
Weasley’sBitch: Well, I’m glad my pasty skin makes someone happy ;) I’ll see you Saturday. I’m going to catch some sleep before I need to be back at work.
TattedFreak: Ok, sounds good. TTYL
Just as Charlotte was about to close the internet browser, the memory of Trey’s deep voice echoed through her mind. Never had she been so instantly turned on by something as innocent as a voice. Just thinking about it sent a punch of intense arousal straight through her core.
She glared at the computer screen and the blinking cursor in the Google search bar. If there was one skill she had perfected as the WQUZ overnight assignment editor, it was her superior cyber stalking skills. A full name wasn’t even needed to be able to track down her unknowing victims. Usually, she reserved the odd skill to tracking down photos of the scumbags getting arrested for crimes in the city when their mug shot wasn’t available yet.
But maybe an exception could be made just this once. Curiosity about what the man that could match that bass voice and intoxicating chuckle ate at her. What harm would it be?
Only knowing his first name was no problem. In fact, she decided to not even bother starting with him per se. Typing in a search for the Pittsburgh Fire Department zone 7, Charlotte held her breath waiting for the results to pop up. Thankfully there were only three fire stations in zone seven, which would make her job much easier. Two of the stations had their own Facebook pages. She clicked on both the links, opening them in new tabs.
The first didn’t have much content. Their location, phone number and a couple generic photos for the profile and cover photos were about it. But the other one held much more promise. Someone at Station 12 knew a little something about social media. The page was updated almost every day with a mix of fire safety tips, community events, and behind the scenes glimpses in the fire house.
Charlotte scrolled through the fire station’s timeline, looking at each picture featuring firefighters, checking out the tags to see if any included a man by the name of Trey. It didn’t take long until she found him, not a picture, though, a video. She stared at the screen, her finger hovering over the touchpad mouse. Should she watch it?
So many emotions warred through her system. Apprehension at what she might find, that the man she had pictured in her mind would be tainted by whatever was on the video. Excitement that he might be even better than she had pictured. Shame for so blatantly invading a man’s privacy. A man she had only talked to for a few minutes.
But curiosity won in the end, and she clicked the play icon. The shaky cellphone video seemed to have been shot in a toy store around Christmas time. Several firefighters and police officers wandered through the aisles with children of all ages excitedly tagging along beside them.
The same deep voice she had drooled over on the phone earlier burst through the speakers of her laptop. “It’s my favorite event of the year, Shop till you Drop! Police and firefighters from all across Pittsburgh have shut down the mall to help some awesome kids find presents for their parents, siblings, and loved ones.” The phone spun around in a dizzying blur, then came to rest on the broad face of the man that could only be Trey.
Immediately, Charlotte’s eyes were drawn to his lips. They were the most amazing lips she had ever seen on a man in her entire life. They were thick and pillowy, seemingly permanently curled at the corners, ready to let loose a grin at any moment. His tightly coiled black hair was buzzed on the sides and left longer on top. Warm brown eyes with the slightest tinge of a deep reddish-gold twinkled, the corners creased with wrinkles that indicated he smiled often. She couldn’t see his body in the video, but could tell by the way he carried himself he would be tall and solid.
“I’m here with my buddy Lorel.” He bent down and tilted the camera to include a little girl smiling from ear to ear next to him. “So Lorel, what are you looking for today?”
“Ummmm. I want to find some nice shoes for mama.” The little girl fidgeted on her feet bouncing around a little bit like she either needed to use the bathroom, or just had so much energy she didn’t know what to do with it. She looked to be around six or seven, but Charlotte couldn’t be sure since she had never been around children much. “A dress for sissy that doesn’t have any rips, and a skateboard for Jim.” She nodded her head in determination.
The entire time Lorel spoke, Trey kept his eyes on her, hanging on each word, kindness shining through him. Judging by the girl’s appearance, she didn’t have much money, but she was obviously well taken care of. Her clothes were slightly too small, but her cheeks were rounded and hair p
ulled up into two neat little braids that stuck out slightly.
“Those sound like real nice presents, sweetie. Shall we get going?”
The little girl nodded, and Trey stood to his full height again.
“Thanks to all our followers and neighbors that donate and make this event possible every year. Time for me to go spend your hard-earned money on some really awesome kids!” The video stopped, the replay icon mocking her in the center of the picture.
She shouldn’t watch it again. That would be weird. But his smile, his face, his easy way with the little girl. It all came together to form this impossible guy, and without even knowing him, Charlotte found herself drawn to him. She’d talked with him for three minutes and watched a minute thirty video of him, and she wanted more.
Charlotte continued to scroll down the fire station’s page. She hit pay dirt not a couple more posts down. Apparently, they had done a calendar fundraiser to help get the money for the Christmas shopping event. The photo jogged her memory of Bekah pitching a story on the calendar. They must have made a fortune off the thing. The cover was a group shot of about two dozen fire, police, and ambulance workers.
Shirtless.
If it were physically possible for a woman’s ovaries to spontaneously implode from the sheer heat of a picture, this would be the one that did it.
Nose practically touching the screen of her laptop, Charlotte scanned the picture for Trey. It was like a well oiled sexy version of Where’s Waldo. She found him in the left back corner of the group. His dark brown skin glistened with sweat or oil. That ever-present smirk curled the corners of his mouth, despite the rest of the men in the picture giving off stoic, stony faced vibes. It seemed Trey just couldn’t pull off the same tough guy look as the rest of them.
Though nothing about him said soft either. Even from the wide angle the photographer had used to get them all in the picture, Charlotte could still make out the lines separating his six pack, the deep grooves of his Adonis belt pointing the way down to his cock, hidden beneath his bulky firefighter’s pants. The waistband hung so precariously low on his hips, Charlotte had the crazy urge to blow on her computer screen in the hopes that one strong gust of wind would cause them to slip down, exposing the part of a man she had never seen in person before. Thanks to her slight Tumblr porn obsession, she knew what a man looked like with no clothes on. But this man, she had a feeling, would be on another plane.
Charlotte wondered what people would think if they ever looked at her browser history. Would her coworkers be disgusted if they knew that shy and quiet little Charlotte had quite the fascination with Tumblr porn? Certainly they would be shocked. Sex was something she was enormously curious about. She had no doubt her lack of experience in the bedroom only magnified her interest.
It crossed her mind on more than one occasion that it was maybe a little twisted and sad that she felt more comfortable watching two people fucking on the internet then she did even holding a conversation with a man she found attractive. But at that point in her life, she had given up on the idea that she might find someone who eased her anxiety enough to get the deed over with.
The one time she had tried hadn’t gone well. A chatroom acquaintance had agreed to come over and meet her in an attempt for them to both get over their issues and do it. The whole time, that little voice she hated so much screamed in her head that he would be judging her for her small breasts and non-existent ass. They kissed for damn near an hour. Charlotte constantly wondered if she was doing it right. Did she use too much tongue? Not enough? Were her lips too firm?
She also wondered why she felt next to nothing. She’s been prepared to stuff down the overwhelming emotions that tended to wash over her in new situations. Those unwanted feelings washing over her brought on the anxiety of not being able to control them, so she generally avoided any situation resulting in anything too far from her normal baseline of meh.
The kissing had been okay from her end, though her lack of experience meant she didn’t know for sure. But nothing swelled in her chest, not fear, not excitement, not sadness. It was all still just meh. The whole experience had been pleasant, but nothing that set her panties on fire. She couldn’t help but notice, that despite him lying on top of her, hips between her thighs, there was a suspicious lack of bulge. She knew she wasn’t the most beautiful woman on earth, but she thought with all the friction from their bodies sliding together and the over the clothes groping, something would have popped up in his pants.
That little voice in her head got louder and louder, practically shouting at her that she couldn’t even get a guy hard despite humping the hell out him. The whole thing ended with the guy jumping off her, making a lame excuse about forgetting to let his dog out, and bolting for the door before Charlotte could even get up from her reclined position.
After that, the thought of trying to make a physical connection with a guy sent her into a near panic attack, so she’d stopped even considering dates.
But that didn’t mean her curiosity went away. She still watched porn damn near every day before bed, bringing herself to orgasm three or four times before passing out.
Charlotte quickly clicked on Trey’s face in the picture, which had been tagged and led her to his personal page, which was blessedly open to the public. He didn’t seem to post a lot, but there was a photo of him holding up the calendar opened to his solo photo, and a little old lady kissing his cheek while he grinned at the camera. The calendar photo was even better than the cover had been. He was laying down in a bed, with probably a dozen kittens crawling all over his naked chest, and laughing so hard, his eyes were squeezed closed when the photographer snapped the shot.
A face like that should be illegal, not to mention the body attached to it. Charlotte tilted her head, considering his perfection for a moment. He was like a young Idris Elba, only his face seemed far more relaxed, less intense. But Trey’s body would put Mr. Elba to shame any day. He was big all over, and Charlotte wondered what it would feel like to have all that muscle holding her down, thrusting into her.
Before she could over think it too much, Charlotte found her hand blazing a trail down past her stomach to the waistband of her panties. She shoved her fingers between her folds, finding herself already wet and practically throbbing. She wasted no time going to work on her swollen clit, flicking it up and down, side-to-side with the pad of her index finger.
A moment of guilt struck her right in the chest as she stared at his photo, following the hard lines of his muscles and racing towards her climax. But she shoved the feeling of shame at using a photo of a man she barely knew to the side. God knew there were probably hundreds of women in the greater Pittsburgh area who had done the exact same thing to the exact same photo.
A rare burst of jealousy consumed her every thought. Charlotte hated knowing that women everywhere had probably creamed their panties to his image. But like everything else, that possessive urge got drop-kicked back into the tight box where she held all her overwhelming emotions.
Charlotte threw her head back to rest against her chair, slouching down more as she imagined Trey releasing the button on his firefighter pants and letting them fall to the ground, nothing underneath. Then he would stalk towards her, fire in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. He’d throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the bed, never saying a word.
The pressure built in her belly. She curled her toes, desperate for some stabilizing force as her fingers picked up speed and her pussy grew slicker by the second.
In her mind, Trey threw her on her bed, ripped the too large sleep shirt from her body, then giving her panties the same treatment. Charlotte’s gaze swept down his muscled chest and abdomen until her eyes landed on the long, thick cock jutting out from between his hips and thighs.
In her fantasies, she wasn’t a virgin. There was no hesitance or fear, only lust raging through her, and a need to have him filled her to the brim. This inner vixen that Charlotte used in her fantasies reached up, pulling him toward
s her. He braced his hands on either side of her head, hovering over her body, and with a confidence she knew she would never possess in real life, Charlotte wrapped her hand around his thick member and guided it to her sopping entrance. Planting her feet wide on the bed, she pressed her hips up and thrust herself onto him.
The orgasm ripped through her body, making her limbs shake. She bit down hard on her lips to prevent the screams of ecstasy from erupting and cluing her neighbors into what she was doing.
Slumped in the chair, Charlotte kept her eyes shut as the tremors eased. Never in her life had she brought herself to such an intense orgasm. Not even when she had gone through a brief fascination with double penetration porn. Gradually, she pulled her hand from her panties, and smoothed the sleep shirt back down over her hips and thighs.
She sat up, glancing at Trey’s photo one last time with guilt building once more in her chest. There was no real reason to be feeling so guilty. She’d most likely never talk to the man again. And even if she did, there was no way he would know about her bringing herself to climax to his image.
Before she could over think it anymore, she clicked the windows closed on her computer and shut it down for the night. She glanced at the time on her cell phone and groaned when she saw she had wasted two hours with her internet stalking. Her next shift started at ten, so at this rate, she would only have three hours to sleep before she had to get up and get ready.
Charlotte clambered into bed, her heavy eyelids drifting closed before her head even hit the pillow.
Chapter Three
The shrill ring of an old-fashioned phone ripped Charlotte out of a very intense dream she’d been having about Trey. She’d been stuck in a fire in her apartment, and he came bursting through her door, shirtless of course, because firefighters often came running into fires half naked. The strong man had scooped her up in his arms, but instead of flying out of the burning building, he’d placed her right in the middle of the unscorched bed.