by Nikky Kaye
I tilted my head in breathless amazement. “Cass, you know I have my arm up your tight little cunt? I’m so proud of you. You’re incredible.”
She was panting now, her chest heaving as she struggled to remain still with my hand inside her. Her head dropped back, and I shuffled a little closer to her on my knees as she leaned against the tile.
“Will, I can’t—oh god, I think I’m gonna—”
Bending forward, I licked a long line from her tender clit up to her belly button.
Now she was almost hyperventilating. “Will, what happens when you take it—”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
I lavished attention on her clit and rocked my hand inside her until her arousal ran down my arm. I thought it was just water until I tasted it. Her knees wobbled when my knuckles rubbed the spongy spot inside her, and her breath came in short, sharp bursts.
“I think I’m going to come.”
Her chin jerked down as she stared at me, wide-eyed with apprehension. I met her gaze without flinching against the shower spray, feeling connected to her in every way as her walls grasped my hand. I gave her a reassuring nod as her orgasm began to ripple through her like an underwater earthquake.
“Ahhhh!”
At the same time that I slipped my fingers out of her pussy I gently wriggled the first finger of my other hand into her ass.
“Ungh! Holy fucking shit!” she wailed, her pitch rising as she was overcome by the sensations ripping through her body.
Every part of her fluttered uncontrollably, and when I helped her lower herself to a seated position in the tub, she was still making broken little noises of pleasure. The memory of her moans still echoed in my spank bank.
Right then, in the shower at my parents’ house, I bit my lower lip. That same fist that had been lodged in her pussy was now firmly wrapped around my cock, moving up and down with determination. I hissed as my balls tightened and I spurted helplessly against the tile.
It wasn’t all those evocative memories that made me come, I realized. What sent me over the edge was thinking of the astonished look of total trust in her eyes afterwards and the way she kissed me without fear or hesitation.
Oh, I was so fucked. I was in love with her.
Chapter Twelve
Cassie
He didn’t call back that day. When I woke the next morning, I discovered I was cradling my phone like it was a teddy bear. No missed calls, no texts.
Should I call him? Maybe he was really mad at me and didn’t want to tell me. Maybe I should have kept Dylan’s skeevy proposition to myself, but I needed to tell someone. In retrospect, it might not have been the best idea to share the story with Will, who had his own propositions for me.
No, it wasn’t the same. I wrapped myself in a Snuggie on the couch with a book and waited for the phone in my lap to ring. Or vibrate. Or self-destruct. Something. Will had sounded pretty upset. Had he thrown his phone against the wall and broken it? Maybe that was why he hadn’t called back. I was staring at it so intently that I jumped when it rang.
“Agh!”
My knees jerked up, tossing the phone to the floor beside me. Dammit. My heart was resounding in my rib cage like I’d just finished a 5k race as I picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi.”
I sank back into the couch, overwhelmed with relief at the sound of Will’s voice. “Hey. How’s it going?”
“Good. You?”
“Fine.”
Then we were both silent for a moment. So far I couldn’t tell anything from his words or tone. It was like talking to a plant. Actually, at least plants would lean towards you when you talked to them. I learned that in Biology.
“Uh, you okay?” I asked gingerly.
“More or less. I kind of overdid it at the gym yesterday.”
“I get it.” And I did. It took a long ass yoga class before I felt that I’d cleansed myself of Dylan’s sleazy come-on.
Will sighed. “So, please tell me that you reported him to Churchill.”
I fidgeted under the Snuggie. “Sort of. I told him that I’d had a disagreement with the TA and that I would prefer that he grade my finals.”
“You didn’t give him any details?”
I winced at the idea of describing any kind of sexual harassment to our myopic, anti-social professor. “No.”
Will hummed into the phone. “Wonder what Dillweed told him.”
“I don’t care. I have my grade, and it’s official. And I’m done with the class, thank god.” I chuckled.
“So what now?” he finally asked in a quiet voice.
I listed my courses for the coming semester, to which he made non-specific sounds in response. Then he was silent again.
“Will? What is it?”
“Are you done with me, too?”
What? Was that what he thought? Because I was done with the class, we were over, too?
“No! Will, no.” I shook my head, forgetting that he couldn’t see me. “We’re still friends, right?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “We’re still friends.”
The way he said “friends” made me nervous. Well, okay, maybe it was more the fact that I knew he had a massive crush on me. When he’d blurted it all out in the lab that day, I felt like he’d handed me a live grenade. What the hell was I supposed to do with that?
“If you still like me, that is,” I added.
“Yeah, Cass. I still like you.”
Part of me wanted to squee in my Snuggie. He liked me! The other part of me froze in awkward terror, like a nun at a strip club. Being liked was so much pressure!
I didn’t have a lot of experience with dating, other than a few forgettable assholes. Will was the first person to show me what it could be like with someone I cared about, someone who cared about me.
But being introduced to my sexual self—“Hey there, Sexual Self!”—had left me more unsure than before in some ways. Was I all that and a bag of chips? Or did I need to reel in my newfound self-confidence?
The intellectual part of me knew that Dylan’s sexual harassment—because that’s what it was—was just wrong. The nascent sexpot in me, however, wondered if I’d led him on somehow, which was a horrible, ugly thing to worry about.
Super Pussy! Able to leap to conclusions in a single bound!
“Ah, fuck it. I’m just going to say it.” Will sighed.
I held my breath, my heart pounding and my body hot.
“I miss you. I’m sorry, and I miss you. I was an asshole, and I miss you.”
Stunned into silence, I pulled the Snuggie up over my face with one hand and hid inside.
“Tell me I haven’t totally fucked this up. Cass?”
“Mmph!”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
I popped my head out of my fleecy cocoon and tried to give him a straight, clear answer. “Gnomes YouTube,” I mumbled.
“What?”
“No! I! Miss! You! Too!” I yelled.
“Oh! Kay!” he shouted back.
“Jerk.”
I could hear him laughing quietly. We were quite the pair.
“Cassandra…” His voice was husky and full of very friendly promises. I squirmed, my yoga pants suddenly feeling very tight. But he trailed off and left it all unsaid. I wasn’t sure what to say myself.
“What are you doing for New Year’s Eve?” I asked him abruptly.
My imagination took me to a douchebag bar where he kissed some drunken skank. In my mind she was curvy and blonde but wore so much hairspray, I wouldn’t dare give her a sparkler at midnight. It still made my heart hurt, because he could do that.
I had no claim on him. I’d said we were friends and we were in consensus about missing each other. What did that mean? He was the one reminding me that I had choices. Well, so did he. For the first time I wished we lived closer to each other. I was only a six-hour drive from school, but his parents were nearly a three-hour flight away.
“Ne
w Year’s?” he repeated. “Oh. Huh. Probably masturbating.”
A shocked giggle caught in my throat. “What?”
“Well, yeah. Probably jerking off.” He sounded matter-of-fact about it. “Maybe I’ll watch a movie.” Then he paused. “You have big plans?”
“Actually, I think you’ve got a good idea there.”
“Oh?” Somehow, he managed to sound provocative, flirtatious, dominant, and sexy with one simple syllable. My body was close to overheating in the Snuggie. “Just what are you planning to do, Cassie? Hmmm?”
“I might watch a movie, too.”
He laughed. “Okay, I deserved that.”
“Hold on, I gotta put the phone down for a second.” Without waiting for his response, I dropped the phone and tried to get out of the blanket robe cocoon thing. I managed to get my arms free and pushed the whole thing down to my waist. It all bunched up in my lap as I sat cross-legged on the couch. “Okay, I’m back. I was too hot.”
He was quiet, then asked “Cass? What are you wearing?”
My body throbbed at the husky desire I could hear in his voice. Yeah, there was no way we could be just friends. We could definitely be naked friends, however. But I still wondered—did I need to contain the power of Super Pussy?
It was such an unfair double standard. Men could fuck anything not nailed down and just be called a “player,” whereas women who liked sex (even if they didn’t sleep around) were labeled sluts and whores. Stupid patriarchal bullshit.
“Um, what are you wearing?” I asked, avoiding the question. Snuggie and sexy did not go together.
“Uh uh uh, I asked you first.”
I looked down at my flannel pajama top. “A tank top. A really thin tank top.”
He hummed appreciatively. “I bet I could see your nipples through it, couldn’t I?”
“They’re hard for you right now, Will.” I lowered my voice, trying to sound sexy. Instead I just sounded as though I’d swallowed an ornament from the tree. Were we about to try phone sex for the first time?
“Let’s FaceTime.”
“What? No!”
It was too late. He’d hung up and was already trying to FaceTime me. With a sigh, I answered, keeping the camera above my neck.
“Hi.” According to the little selfie box at the bottom, I was grinning like an idiot. Oh well. I never claimed to have much of a poker face. Excitement swelled in my chest just seeing him, even when his dark eyebrows drew together in a frown.
“You lied to me.”
“Moi?” I blinked innocently.
“Pan down.”
“No.”
“You’re not wearing a sexy little top, are you?” he whined.
I stuck my tongue out at him. “You really shouldn’t put girls on the spot like that, you know.”
“So what are you wearing?”
Pulling the phone back, I tilted it down to show him my jammies. His grin didn’t appear at all disappointed, though—until the phone angled lower.
“What the fuck? Are—are you wearing a Muppet around your waist?”
I jerked the phone back up. “It’s a blanket, asshole.”
He rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. “Do you have a hand free?” he asked.
“Yeah…”
“Undo the buttons on your top.”
My face flamed to match the red plaid of my shirt. “What?”
“Now.”
Demanding Will was Sexy Will. And since both were also Friend Will, I was helpless against him. All the lines were blurred now. With a trembling hand, I obeyed. As I parted my shirt, the flannel brushed over my now tight nipples, making me hiss softly.
“Show me, Cass.”
Again, I held out the phone. My breath was short and shallow, and my panties were getting wetter. His groan and pained expression gave me confidence to shrug off the shirt altogether.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.”
He made me feel that way. “So are you,” I said shyly.
I couldn’t see his other hand—the one not holding the phone. I suspected it was lower than his waist, but instead of feeling creeped out, the idea just turned me on more. What could be sexier than a smart, funny, beautiful man aroused out of his mind just by glimpsing a sliver of your skin on a four-inch screen? Super Pussy had some superpowers, that was for damn sure.
Biting back a moan, I tweaked my nipples for him, rolling the hard, tender buds with my thumb.
“Yes,” he hissed. “Do you want to touch yourself, baby?”
“Mmmm.”
“Do it,” he urged. “Slip your hand down and find your clit. I want to see your fingers in your pussy.”
“Okay.” I wriggled in my seat, uncrossing my legs and stretching them out to rest on the coffee table. Really, this would be better on speakerphone, but there was nowhere to prop it up for the camera to get the right view. “Are you—”
“Oh fuck yeah. But get rid of the Muppet, okay?”
I snickered and pulled off the Snuggie. Then I fell back on the couch, bare from the waist up, and snuck my left hand into my flannel pajama bottoms. Goosebumps spread over my upper arms and my body was taut with anticipation. When I slid my first two fingers over my lips, I couldn’t contain my response.
“Ooohhh! God, I feel like I could come any minute. Super Pussy missed you.”
“Christ, I need you, too,” he panted, licking his lips and glancing down at his lap. “Wait, super what?”
I wasn’t about to explain, not when it felt like flames were coming out of my fingertips when I circled my entrance. It only took two fingers plunging into my core and the fleshy part of my palm rubbing against my clit for me to fall into a breathless climax. The phone drooped a little as my body shivered.
It wasn’t enough, though. I wanted him to come with me. “Are you clo—”
“Cassie, look what we got!”
I froze in naked, humiliated shock, my hand in my pussy and my insides still clenching from my climax, as my parents and little brother filed into the living room, wearing their coats and carrying bags from the mall.
Chapter Thirteen
Will
“Shut the fuck up!”
“I swear on my dead grandmother’s grave,” Cassie said solemnly.
All I’d heard was the ball-tightening sound of her orgasm noises, then a shriek and a lot of muffled noises before the call ended. Then nothing for three long hours.
I was dying—and not just from delayed gratification. What the hell had happened? Now she was explaining on FaceTime, and the visual I was getting from what she was describing… I thought my cheeks would split from grinning so widely.
“Did you at least finish coming?”
“Will! Oh my god!” On the screen of my phone, her arm flailed out, as though she wished she could slap me on the arm.
Now I was dying with laughter. “C’mon, Cass. You gotta admit it’s fucking hysterical.”
She rolled her eyes as I tried to get myself together. “Yeah, my mother was ‘hysterical’. It was like that Seinfeld episode where George’s mother catches him being the Master of His Domain. Or whatever.”
I went off again, my stomach beginning to ache a little. “Oh god. Too fucking funny.” I sighed, wiping my eyes.
Then a fresh set of giggles got me at the image she’d painted of her father clapping his hands over her little brother’s eyes. Cassie found it a little less funny, probably because her parents threatened to make her give her brother the birds and the bees talk. She’d pointed out that since he was thirteen, he probably knew more about sex than she did.
“And yes, I did finish.” The quirk of her lips was threatening to ruin her stern expression. “Did you?”
“Uh, sort of.” I waited with blue balls for about half an hour, hoping she’d call back, before taking care of things myself.
“Well, that’s charming,” she said sarcastically after I explained.
I shrugged, my free hand adjusting my jeans. Apparently I had to fight
a constant hard-on with her, even over the phone. “It wasn’t as good as it would have been with you, baby.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” She made a fake retching noise.
With any other girl, I would have been offended. Hell, with any other girl this conversation would never even happen. But this was Cassie.
We talked for another hour, about everything and nothing—Christmas presents, seeing old friends, Netflix binges. Neither of us wanted to hang up, so we kept starting new topics of conversation.
In less than twenty-four hours, I’d gone from feeling bah humbug to Game of Thrones levels of violence, then finally to happy endings. If anything else happened today, I would have to consider a mood stabilizer.
Finally we hung up, mostly because she had to go face the firing squad in what was sure to be the most awkward family dinner in history.
I sat at the desk in my room, drumming my fingers idly on the top. She’d mentioned our stupid sex bet before she went, which I’d totally forgotten about. Maybe the phone sex had reminded her? Either way, I figured we’d abandoned the wager, or at least were tied.
Clearly I’d had my head up my ass for the past week—and not in the Urban Dictionary sex way—so I doubted it counted for the bet.
It also suddenly occurred to me that we hadn’t actually talked about that junior high question of what we were—or are. Were we dating? Fuck buddies? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Fuck, would we go back to being friends with penalties?
Double or nothing…
* * *
It was pretty ironic that you could freeze your balls off and flop sweat at the same time, I thought to myself. Maybe it would make more sense if I was doing a Resolution Run or something, but instead I was in a rental car outside Cassie’s house on New Year’s Eve.
And she wasn’t home.
Surprise!
After her little brother gave me the stink eye, he told me the name of the bar she was at with a group of old friends. I gave him a brief primer on how to appropriately deal with strange men looking for his sister before heading back to my car.