by Amy Brent
I dropped down into my chair, spun it around to face my computer, and plucked my phone from the desk. Steven’s name flashed across the screen. He’d messaged me. I smiled absently to myself and opened our conversation.
What I saw made my stomach leap up into my throat. My heart started fluttering, my chest felt hot, and it was everything I could do not to drop the phone.
On my screen was a picture of Steven; well, it was sort of a picture of Steven. He wasn’t in the foreground. Or the background, either.
I recognized his watch, his knuckles, and even his hips from seeing him nearly naked that one drunken night this past June.
What I didn’t recognize was his dick, front and center, demanding all of my attention.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, glancing up to make sure none of my coworkers were around. The coast was clear. I peered closer to the picture, taking note of the size and girth of his member, and realizing quite suddenly that this probably hadn’t been meant for me.
I felt my cheeks grow hot and knew I was blushing. I closed the picture, and it shrank to a smaller size as it fell back into the conversation. I quickly typed out a message to Steven.
“Uh. Steven. Wrong person!”
I hit send, locked the phone, and put it face down on my desk.
It chimed again not even ten seconds later.
Another picture lit up my screen. This time I gawked at it. It was a picture of an all too familiar yellow notebook. My diary.
I put the phone down. My stomach rolled. I picked the phone back up. My stomach turned again.
“How did you get that?” I typed before hitting send.
He answered quickly again. My heart was racing as my eyes scanned his words. “I don’t know. How come you never told me you wanted me to bend you over and fuck you?”
I felt my panties become wet. I shifted in my seat. I realized I was chewing the inside of my cheek. If I played dumb, maybe he would leave it alone. Tasting blood from my gnawed-on cheek, I typed out my reply. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t believe you stole my diary.”
As I sent it, my alarm went off. I had plans to meet my sister for lunch again. I stood, thoroughly flustered, and rushed out of the office with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. A couple people at their desks looked up at me and watched me go. They probably saw how red my face was. This only made me blush harder.
I raced to the elevator, rode it down in shocked silence, and then tore out of the building. I hurried down the sidewalk to the restaurant and was relieved to see Melissa was already there. She was the early bird out of the two of us.
When she saw me coming her eyebrows drew together. I sat across from her, looked around like everyone in the place knew what picture was on in my phone, and glanced back at her.
“Allie? What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Melissa said, her eyes flicking back and forth as she regarded me with concern. “Drink some water.”
I sipped from the glass, dabbed at my cold, wet lips with my shaking fingertips, and then clutched my hands in my lap. “Something happened,” I said, leaning forward like I was letting her in on some deep dark conspiracy.
“Okay,” Melissa said slowly. “What happened?”
I bit my bottom lip and leaned in closer. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Steven just sent me a dick pic.”
“A what?” Melissa wasn’t in on all the new terms when it came to sexual advances through technology.
I groaned and rested my forehead in my hands. “He sent me a picture of his penis, Melissa.”
“What the fuck? When?”
“Like, fifteen minutes ago!”
“Let me see,” she said, holding out her hand expectantly.
I stared at her open palm. “I can’t show you,” I said defensively. “That would be a violation of his privacy.”
“The man sent you a picture of his penis, which you clearly didn’t ask for. Show me already. I’ve always been curious.”
“No,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and scowling at her.
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “What did you say to him?”
“I told him he sent it to the wrong person, of course. Which I was sure he had. Until he texted me back a picture of my diary.”
“Your diary?” Melissa asked, her eyebrows arching. “What do you mean, your diary? Why would he have access to it?”
“He was over last night. He must have found it and took it home with him. And he read some of it. Melissa, you know some of the things I’ve written in there. He knows how into him I am. I’m so embarrassed.” I buried my face in my hands again and hung my head. I hadn’t even told her the worst part yet.
“Why would he take it in the first place?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, not wanting to utter the next words aloud. “But, Melissa, everything about Andrew is in there.”
Melissa paused with her glass of water halfway to her mouth. She slowly returned it to the table, shook her head once, and stared back at me firmly. “Define ‘everything.’”
“Everything,” I said not knowing how else to explain it.
Andrew was Steven’s older brother—his very hot older brother. He and I had hooked up ages ago and both agreed never to say anything to Steven. Andrew knew how I felt about his younger brother, and the whole situation had been awful. I was only sixteen at the time, and Andrew had been twenty-two. And, for a while, we thought we were pregnant. Melissa was the only person who knew about the whole thing.
“Why would you write it in there?” she asked.
“Why shouldn’t I?” I said, giving a huff. “I didn’t ever think Steven would read it. Why on earth would I ever worry about that? If he reads that page. Oh, my God. If he reads that page, he will hate me forever. Andrew and I have been keeping this secret from him for ten years. Ten. Years. Melissa. I have to get it back.”
“Obviously,” Melissa said. “And you have to kick his ass for taking it in the first place. What a sleazeball.”
My phone chimed. We both stared at it.
“Well,” Melissa urged. “Aren’t you going to check? It’s probably him.”
I swallowed. “Yeah. Probably is.” I reached out, my fingers trembling harder than before. I read his text aloud. “Tonight. Eight o’clock. My place.”
I lifted my gaze slowly to Melissa. She was leaning back in her chair again, her arms crossed, wearing an expression of cool curiosity. “Are you going to go?”
My mind raced. Steven Marx was inviting me over to his house. This wasn’t for a movie night. This wasn’t to sit around and play cards while laughing over stupid stories from college. This was for something else entirely.
This was what I had been waiting for.
I knocked on Steven’s door at two minutes to eight. My knuckles had only hit his door three times before he wrenched it open. He wore only a pair of sweatpants. His dark hair was an unruly mess. His eyes beheld me with an intensity I had never seen there before. It lit a fire in me.
He reached out, one hand taking my waist, and pulled me into him. The bare skin of his chest and stomach was hot and smooth. His other hand cupped the back of my neck, and he used his thumb against my jaw to force me to look up at him. He was staring at my lips.
He leaned down, closing the distance between us with agonizing slowness. Moments before his lips grazed mine, my eyes closed.
Our lips touched. He was gentle at first. Then, his hand at the back of my neck gripped me tighter, and his kiss grew fiercer. Before I knew what I was doing, I draped my arms over his shoulders and held on to him. My lips parted, and I let his tongue slip between my teeth. I relished in how he tasted. Mint and something sweet. Something that made my knees tremble.
His hand around my waist held me up when I thought I might turn to butter. I could feel his teeth against my bottom lip as his kiss became hungrier. I matched his intensity, burying my fingers in his hair and tightening my hands into fists.
; I tried to cement this feeling into my memory. I was kissing Steven Marx.
He pulled me into the house, spun us both around, and kicked his door closed. It slammed into the frame, and I felt the vibration in the soles of my shoes. He pushed me backward, step by step, down his hallway. I knew where he was guiding me when we turned right. Our lips never parted. His desperate exploration of my mouth with his tongue never ceased.
We passed through the open doorway to his bedroom. As we walked, his fingers pulled my jacket from my shoulders. He yanked it off of me and let it fall to the ground. Then he caught the hem of my shirt, and our lips parted for the first time when he pulled it over my head. Then, breathlessly, we came back together like magnets.
He undid my jeans. I didn’t stop him. I worked to shimmy them down over my hips as Steven unclasped my bra.
I realized how naked I was when his hands grazed my breasts, and his thumbs flicked over my nipples. I giggled more out of excitement than anything else. He smiled into our kiss. His hands continued to caress my breasts, gliding over my skin and teasing me with the lightest touch.
Steven’s arm wrapped around my lower back. Ever so slowly, he lowered me to his bed, his sheets soft against my bare back. I lay below him, staring up at him as he leaned over me, bracing himself with a hand planted firmly on each side of me. His face was dark in shadow, but his eyes glinted from the porch light streaming through his bedroom window.
He began kissing me again. His lips left my mouth to trail kisses down my neck, over my collarbone, and over the line in the middle of my stomach. When he reached my hips, he stopped. He snapped my thong playfully, and it stung, sending a thrill through me.
Then he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. His hands fell between my thighs, and he pushed my legs apart. He pulled my panties to the side. I watched him, hungry, desperate, as he drew closer to me.
His tongue kissed my clit. My eyes closed of their own volition. My fingers curled in his sheets, and a breathless sigh escaped me. His tongue slid up and down over the length of my pussy, tasting me, teasing me, until I thought I was going to come undone.
I was so close to losing control. He sensed it, and he ceased the swirling of his tongue. He stood, looking down at me like he owned me as he stripped out of his sweatpants.
I reveled in his nakedness. He was perfection, as I already knew he was, but seeing him this time was different. I knew I was about to have him. I knew I was about to feel him inside me.
“Please,” I breathed, begging him to hurry. I couldn’t wait any longer. This emptiness inside me was begging to be filled.
He stroked his cock and stepped closer to me. I felt the top of his thighs against the bottom of mine; firm and warm. The tip of his hardness pressed up against me, and he moved his cock up and down, stroking my wetness, making me wait.
“Please,” I begged again, willing him to enter me.
When he did, everything around me vanished. I was nothing but the sex. He slid deep inside me, pushing me open and demanding I give all of myself to him. Each slow thrust stretched me further until a cry escaped my lips.
He pressed his thumb to my clit. A quiver of excitement rushed through me. I could hear the blood hammering in my ears.
Then, he was spreading my legs farther apart. I let him use me like a gymnast, pushing my legs back and apart, leaning into me so that he could grind his cock against my G-spot. I gripped his forearms, whimpered with delight, and then, to my surprise and delight, became a shaking mass of pleasure as my orgasm ripped me open.
He didn’t slow. His thrusts became more powerful, more primal, and as my orgasm ended, I felt another one mounting. It built and built until I could feel the walls of my pussy closing around him. He seemed to feel it too.
A sound in the back of his throat was enough to make me come again. His hands gripped my hips, and he pushed his weight upon me, holding me in place so that each time he buried himself in me, I couldn’t move. I gasped as he filled me with his hot, silky cum.
Then he pulled out of me and collapsed on the bed beside me. We both lay on our backs with our eyes closed sucking in great gulps of air. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on how wonderful I felt. I had never had an orgasm like that before.
I knew that soon I would want more.
Chapter 7
Steven
Allie’s bare leg was draped over mine when I woke in the morning. It was early—probably not even seven yet. I was on my back with one arm beneath my pillow. I turned my head slowly, fearful to move and wake her.
She was sleeping on her side facing me. Her dark hair was splayed out on my pillow in a way that made me think of a mermaid underwater. Her cheek and most of her face were nestled into the pillow, and the blankets were tucked neatly around her. She looked incredibly peaceful.
I moved my hand to the leg she had resting on mine and rubbed her thigh gently. Her skin was smooth. She sighed softly in her sleep and buried her face deeper into the pillow.
I wanted to know more of what she wanted. I had tried to do right by her last night, but her body and her pussy had been too much to bear. I hadn’t been able to hold on as long as I wanted.
Her diary was tucked under my mattress on my side of the bed. I knew that all the answers I needed rested in its pages. I reached my free arm out, my fingers searching the edge of the mattress for the spine of her diary.
Allie stirred. I froze. I drew my arm back to my side just as her eyes opened. She regarded me sleepily for a moment before closing her eyes again as she stretched.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” I said, meaning it. I had never been with a girl who looked like Allie. She had curves in all the right places. She was sexy without trying. Even now, an hour after dawn, tired with bed head, she was beautiful. Especially now.
“Morning,” she mumbled, lifting her head to peer at the clock on my nightstand. “Coffee,” she mumbled. “Need coffee.”
I swung out of bed and grabbed my boxers from the floor. I hop-stepped into them while she rolled onto her back and stretched again. She lifted her arms above her head, and the blanket slipped down her chest. Her breasts appeared, teasing me with their fullness.
“I’ll make coffee,” I said, staring at her breasts. “You take your time.” There was no need for her to be in a hurry to put her clothes on.
She met me in the kitchen five minutes later. She had found a blanket in my linen closet and wrapped herself up in it. Her hair was still a messy disaster, a sign that I had done at least a semi-decent job last night.
She sat on the stool at my counter, and I handed her a mug of piping hot black coffee. She wrapped her hands around it, breathed in the steam, and took a sip. “Thank you,” she said as she closed her eyes. Looking at her now only reminded me of how she had looked beneath me the previous night. Naked, bathed in the light from the porch through the window. Like a goddess.
“Steven,” she said slowly, pulling me out of my reverie. “I need my diary back.”
“You’ll get it. If you come back here tonight.”
She stared at me blankly. I couldn’t tell what thoughts were happening behind those dark eyes of hers. “I don’t know if I should.”
“Don’t know if you should come back tonight?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding slightly and clutching the mug of coffee tighter. “This is strange for me, Steven. I don’t know what this all means.”
“Don’t overthink it. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
She stared at the counter.
“We don’t have to over complicate this by putting labels on it, Allie. We can enjoy it for what it is.”
“And what is that?” she asked, meeting my eye again.
“It’s whatever we want it to be. We are friends who happen to be attracted to one another. Friends with benefits. No commitments. No strings. Friends who can occasionally, or regularly, bone. What’s so confusing about that?”
She bit her bottom lip. It drove me wild. The girl didn’t know
what she did to me.
“Fine,” she said as she stood. “I’ll come back tonight. But please, don’t read any more of my diary. It’s private, and you’ve already read enough as it is.”
“I won’t,” I said, holding up both my hands and giving her my best “I promise” smile. “You make sure you’re back here tonight. Last night was just a sampling. A taste test, if you will,” I winked.
“Right,” she said, making her way down the hall. When she was dressed and ready, I walked her to the door. She was quieter than usual. I assumed she was nervous, or shy, or both.
We said goodbye, and I found myself standing in my doorway alone. I was still consumed with thoughts of her naked body on my bed.
I went back to my bedroom where I lay on the bed and pulled Allie’s diary out from under the mattress. I turned to the last page I was on. I was hot for her again, and she had only left a minute ago. I was rock hard and had to be at work in less than two hours. The girl was going to single-handedly be responsible for a chronic case of blue balls.
Unless, of course, I handled things on my own.
Thursday, June 26th
I had another dream about Steven. This one was so much better than the last. I woke up, and my sheets were wet beneath me. I had to finish myself before I got out of bed.