by Katie Ford
“I love how wet you get so easily.”
“I wish you were rubbing your clit in front of me. I’d watch and jerk my dick watching you get off.”
That would be nice. Closing my eyes, I imagined him standing over me with that sculpted male body inches away. I wouldn’t make him jerk off alone for too long. Eventually, I would want to tug on his rod myself, squeezing and loving the hard shaft. I wondered what it would feel like if he put it in my bottom. Would it hurt? No matter what, Trace would make sure I liked it.
“I want you to ride me reverse cowgirl. Your ass is too damn fine.”
“Fuck, I wish this was your pussy.”
I read through those texts repeatedly while touching myself, imagining what he’d described and wishing that he was with me.
My pussy pulsed and I shattered, dissolving into sweet heaven. After it was over, my lids felt heavy. I nearly considered going back to sleep again, but I could hear activity going on in the kitchen. Was it Annie’s cat getting into trouble again?
A scratching sound came again, and heaving my legs over the mattress, I decided to get up. That damned cat better not have gotten into the garbage again. Last time, it took two hours just to clean up her mess.
Turned out, it wasn’t Annie’s cat. It was Annie herself, up and moving around. She was dressed like she was going out on an early morning jog.
“Morning, sunshine,” Annie sang. “Sleep well?”
“Not really,” I answered grumpily. “Could I talk to you for a few minutes?”
Those few minutes always escalated into an hour, easily. Nonetheless, Annie sat down with me with a sunny smile. I had her tell me about her weekend first, since I knew my story was going to take up a sizable chunk of the morning. And then the madness began.
By the end of my explanations, I felt like I’d just gotten done with a morning jog, totally breathless and exhausted. My throat felt dry from talking, and I took a tentative sip of tea, the warm liquid soothing my vocal cords.
“Well,” she said. “If it helps, I don’t blame you for slapping him. He was being a pig.”
“I don’t know, I just feel like I really fucked up,” was my murmur. “Trace caught me at a weird moment, and my fuse was shorter than normal.”
“But he’s still sticking around, so don’t you think he wants things to continue with you?”
“I don’t know! I just feel like I’ve crossed a line or something.”
“If a man can choke you during sex, he can take a slap to the face,” she stated firmly.
“Oh, it was just light,” I laughed. “Nothing crazy. But seriously, what do you think I should do?” I asked her. “I don’t know how to feel about all this. I mean, Trace didn’t even acknowledge me in high school. Now, because of how I look, it’s okay to fuck me now? Is that okay?”
“You’re sorry that you guys had sex?” she asked, shooting me a long look.
“No, it was great! I just don’t know what to do. I can’t get a read on anything.”
“Well, you should at least try to talk with him and hash things out,” Annie said. “It sounds like you actually kind of like him. Wasn’t this the jock you’ve told me about before?” she asked curiously.
“Yes,” I sighed.
“And really, if the sex was as good as you make it sound, I think it’s worth it. Hey, whenever you go out to L.A. or he comes back to Miami, you can both have that fun whenever you want to. What’s wrong with that? Don’t miss out on an opportunity just because you’re flustered.”
“I’m not flustered. I’m annoyed.”
“Same thing,” Annie said with a smile.
“I just don’t really like the idea of him going around telling everyone within earshot that he’s gonna fuck the nerd that got hot after high school.”
“That’s what guys do, Lila.” Annie laughed. “They’re all gross and love to brag. At least he was honest with you about it. Most guys will just lie and say they never talk bad about you.”
“I guess,” was my grumpy reply.
“Besides, why does it matter what you used to look like before? Why does it matter if he tells his friends about you? The guy doesn’t even live in Miami. This is just a occasional thing,” she said casually. “Unless you want it to be more.”
I shook my head fervently.
“No, I have no expectations,” was my fervent reply. “Absolutely not.”
“Good,” Annie said lightly. “Then it should be okay.” She stood up, tapped me on the knee and headed for the door.
But for some reason, my heart felt heavy. Was I telling the truth? In my heart of hearts, did I actually want something more with Trace?
And I was so confused that there were no easy answers. Because on the one hand, I was sassy, confident Lila, international model. But on the other, I was still the shy nerdy girl from high school with her nose buried in the books. Both these women co-existed inside, and both of them wanted Trace, Mr. Big Man on Campus.
The only problem was … which girl did Trace want?
Chapter 8
Trace
No matter what I did, I couldn’t get Lila out of my head. Sure, those late night texts were embarrassing, but I didn’t care or regret sending them one whit. Those words were the truth because the curvy girl had me dying on the inside.
So I spent all of Wednesday trying to think of ways to get her talking to me again, but nothing surfaced. Really, I thought I was doing the nice thing, saying how I wished she’d stay in the bed with me. But there was no response. Clearly, something was off.
Even though we hadn’t spoken much, I felt like things were easy with Lila. When we talked, I only wanted to keep talking. When she laughed, I wanted to laugh. And when the woman was angry, I couldn’t breathe. She meant that much to me.
Emerson came back to the house late, expecting me to either be gone or with Lila. Once it was clear that I’d been deserted, he immediately took out some beers from the fridge and let me spill the beans on Lila.
“So what do you think?” I asked morosely. “Have I been an idiot?
Emerson looked thoughtful.
“It sounds like you actually like this girl,” he said slowly.
“Yeah, sure,” was my reply. “Why not?”
Emerson shifted in his seat before sighing.
“What can I tell you, man? Just listen to your instincts and follow your heart.”
I was amazed to hear those words come out of his mouth in any context. “Are you serious? What did you just say?”
“I’m actually being serious,” he chuckled in return. “I don’t know, dude. Don’t run away from your thoughts or feelings. Think about it, and do what you think is best.”
“I don’t know what way is best,” was my morose reply.
“If you want to be single and chase tail, bro—having as many Lilas as you want—I support you. You know I support you in that. That’s not the issue.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “There ain’t more than one Lila, though. That’s for sure.”
“And see, that’s my point right there,” Emerson said. “You can go after pussy, or maybe you might have found someone special that you might want to get yourself involved with. Regardless, I’ll support you no matter what.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“Just as long as you’re getting laid one way or the other,” he finished. “Otherwise you’re cranky as hell.”
We both laughed, sipping on our beers contemplatively.
“You’re a true wingman.” I chuckled.
“I wouldn’t mind relocating to Miami, just saying,” he added.
“Okay, maybe you’re the one that wants to get with Lila,” I said. “You’re moving a little fast there, pal.”
“Just calling it like it is,” he said. “She’s pretty damn hot, bro.”
I thought back to when I had her on the kitchen table.
“Yes, she certainly is,” I agreed.
“Call her up and ask her out on a date,” he suggested. “
Just go out to dinner or something. Sex, only if it leads to it.”
“I called her and texted her a whole bunch of times,” was my rough grunt. “There’s no sense in pushing so hard.”
“Just call her again and see,” he prodded. “Why not?”
I whipped out my cell phone, fully expecting to be ignored.
“I’m telling you,” I said as I found her number. “She’s not going to answer.”
“Do it anyways,” Emerson said.
The phone started ringing. My heart started thumping.
“She’s not going to answer,” was my grunt.
But then, to my surprise, Lila answered.
“Hello?” that sweet voice chimed.
“Um, hey,” was my surprised reply. “How you doing, Lila?”
“I’m okay,” she answered neutrally.
“Thanks for picking up.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Listen, I was wondering if we could make plans to go out for dinner,” I said.
“Tonight?”
“Or tomorrow,” I said. “Whatever works best for you.”
There was silence on her end of the line for several seconds.
“You there?” I asked.
“I’m here,” she replied. “Let’s meet up tomorrow night,” she relented.
“Sounds great,” I said. “I’ll text you the address for the restaurant.”
We hung up. Emerson raised his eyebrows.
“Good luck, amigo,” was his grunt.
I sighed, sure that I’d need it.
Chapter 9
Lila
I met Trace around nine at the seafood restaurant, Brasserie de Mer. It was a homey place with red and white checkered table cloths, but even the casual atmosphere couldn’t settle my stomach. I was so torn about what to do and what I wanted.
And when the photographer walked in, my heart jumped. He was so gorgeous, powerful and tall, and every woman’s eyes followed him as he strode in.
“Hey,” he smiled, taking a seat.
“Hey,” I murmured back.
We started with casual small talk. He told me what it was like for him in L.A., and I shared my brief L.A. stories with him. I talked about Annie and how she’d been modeling with me ever since we met in college. It was still hard for me to process that my closest friend was about to move away.
Once we got our appetizers, the conversation grew serious and we started to hash some things out. I began with an admission:
“I did feel guilty that first night when I left, you know?”
“Is that so?” he asked dryly.
“It wasn’t anything against you,” I said. “I only stay overnight with my boyfriends. I’ve never slept over with a guy that was just a fling, so the other night was kind of a big step for me.”
“Wow,” he said, sounding genuine. “Truthfully, I did worry a little that I did something then that upset you.”
“No, you were just a jerk that one time,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I hit you.”
“Please, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried.” He laughed.
“I think you underestimate me,” was my wry reply. “But anyways, I was kind of on edge that morning after I slept over, and I overreacted. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t think before I spoke.”
“It’s okay.”
“I want to be very clear, though,” he said. “You’re not just a lay to me, Lila. I’m really into you, as a matter of fact.”
Even though I believed him, it was still strange to hear those words coming out of his mouth. My whole body flushed.
“You’re actually the first person I’ve confided anything to in like… I don’t even know how long,” he continued. “But something about seeing you again and this time we’ve had together, I just wanted you to know that I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.”
“Sounds like I’m melting your heart, Trace,” was my carefree quip, heart in my throat.
“What if you are?” he asked, blue eyes suddenly serious.
I didn’t have an answer for him. Instead, I just giggled like we were back in high school. It was pathetic.
“Thank you for being open and honest with me,” he said.
“Thank you for being honest and open with me!” I returned with a smile.
Electric tension filled the air for a moment.
“Lila, you know I’m going to get you back for slapping me,” he growled.
“What are you going to do?” I asked, cheeks flushing. “Punish me?”
Those blue eyes gleamed.
“Yes, exactly. I’m going to make it hurt.”
Oh god, yes. A nervous thrill ran down my spine, making my pussy tingle. Because I wanted it … and this time, I didn’t want him to hold back.
***
We decided to head back to my place. Annie was spending the night with her boyfriend, so we’d have the apartment to ourselves.
But unfortunately, we’d had a little to drink at the restaurant, and I wasn’t able to communicate to our driver properly about where to take us. So instead, we went back to Emerson’s brother’s place which was conveniently empty once again. Perfect. Of course, I suspected that Trace texted the guys and warned them we were coming.
True to his word, the photographer’s punishment did hurt. He spanked me so hard and so often before we’d even had sex that he was leaving flaming red marks. At times, the pain was excruciating, and yet, at the same time, incredibly hot and insanely satisfying. I loved that he wasn’t afraid to use force with me. I loved the way that he made me his, owning me completely.
After spanking me for what seemed like an eternity, surely leaving no inch of my flesh untouched, he finally grabbed hold of my bottom, and then proceeded to fuck me as deeply as he could. Trace was buried inside of me, and it was drove me absolutely crazy. I could barely find enough will and strength to touch my clit as he pushed deeper, giving me his all.
“Oh!” I cried out, cheek pressed to the cool marble countertop. “Yes more!”
“That’s right sweetheart,” he growled, as I exploded. “Enjoy it. Ride each one.”
Frankly, it was difficult to tell where one climax ended and another began, the ecstasy was so good. And Trace was inventive. He’d rub my clit, making me pulse as my pussy took his length. And occasionally, the man would reach over and smack one of my breasts, hitting hard, before pinching my nipples. His bites were painful, but also wonderfully exciting.
Finally, after my third orgasm, Trace pulled himself from my pussy, running his wet dick up and down my folds. He started to climb up the bed toward my face, and I licked my lips in anticipation.
He didn’t ask, and I didn’t hesitate. He pushed his throbbing, delicious cock into my mouth, piercing my throat repeatedly. The man roared as I sucked hard, my thirst for his dick unquenchable.
I expected him to fill my mouth with his load, but he decided on a different destination. Once he was ready, he pulled out, smacked his pulsating member against one big breast, and began to beat his meat. I was daring, taking his dick away from him and grasping it tightly with my hands. I jerked his wet cock off, stroking hard, feeling his dick and balls enlarge, ready to shoot. And without any warning, the man came all over my chest, coating my breasts and stomach with his exquisite concoction. I even scooped some of it on my fingers and swallowed it eagerly, enjoying the flavor of his semen.
Because this is what Trace and I enjoy together. We’re dirty yet loving at once, our hearts beating in rhythm as bodies explode. And as we lay on the mattress, exhausted, our eyes caught, blue tangling with brown. Because somehow, this was right … even if neither of us could admit it.
Chapter 10
Trace
I was pretty livid when I woke up the next morning and saw that, once again, Lila had left. I’m not sure if it was in the night or the morning, but that didn’t matter. I honestly couldn’t believe that she’d done it
to me again.
And like a fool, immediately I reached for my phone, texting and calling the girl. Unsurprisingly, Lila didn’t respond or answer me in any way.
“What is going on with you, girl?” I muttered to myself. “Talk to me here.”
About then, I decided that the fairer sex was simply unreadable sometimes on purpose. I had no idea why the brunette kept leaving. Maybe my assertiveness had scared her away. Maybe it was the talk we’d had. Who knew. And this time, I actually felt kind of pissed, like I’d been the one used.
Because the saying was true: people want what they can’t have. And now, I understood it then more than ever. For whatever reason, Lila’s departures always left me wanting her more. Because something about how hard she was making me work drove me crazy. She submitted, but she still managed to have things her way. And as much as her sassy attitude annoyed me, it somehow managed to make me want her even more.
Shit. It was dumb to catch feelings for her, especially considering I was due to return to Los Angeles any day now. In fact, I’d already postponed my flight a couple times to figure things out with Lila. And yet, I couldn’t even get a call back, which was ludicrous.
***
Being a man of action, I took the initiative and show up at Lila’s apartment unannounced. A bouquet of roses filled my arms, pink not red. It was too early for red. I wasn’t sure if the gift would come off as cheesy or romantic, but I was hoping she would go for it.
When I knocked on her door, she answered it nonchalantly.
“Hey,” the beautiful brunette greeted with a smile.
“Do you mind if I come in for a little bit?” was my low growl. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but would you mind?”
“Not at all,” she said graciously, allowing me in.
I wanted to hand her the flowers, but suddenly awkwardness paralyzed my form. I stood there, looking around her place, clutching the bouquet to my stomach like some star-struck teenage boy.