Filthy Dirty Normal, Volume 4
Page 7
Taylor stood up and gave Jessie a small smile. Then, as an afterthought, she stooped to dip a finger between Jessie’s legs. It came out shining. Taylor gave a small nod and then put her lips to Jessie’s ear to whisper, “Good girl.”
Taylor sat down, comfortable in her nakedness, not so much as bothering to wipe the cum off of her back. The chairs were a waterproof material. She’d be able to wipe it off before they left… or, even better, she could make one of the men do it, since they were the ones who’d made the mess in the first place.
Jessie sat across from her, exhausted. The buildup had been intense, and she was now simply drained. That small, vibrating presence was still inside of her, but it was less insistent, and right now she couldn’t imagine moving, let alone doing anything more. She felt as if the strength had gone out of every muscle in her body. The feeling was blissful, and she wanted to smile, but she didn’t smile because that’s what the others were doing, and she was still clinging to the illusory idea that nobody else knew she’d gotten off.
She was fine. She was unsullied. Yes, these three people — two men she loathed and one good friend who she sometimes had margaritas with after work — had seen everything her body had to offer, and yes she’d been on the giving and receiving end of some new and different girl/girl action. But other than that one drop of cum, which she’d wiped subtly away and which nobody had seen, the men hadn’t touched her and she hadn’t touched them. So she was still innocent in all of this, right? It was basically the same thing as if she’d spent the whole night totally clothed, sitting here with her arms crossed, giving the others disapproving scowls, right? Or it was as if as if none of them had done anything and had instead gone right home after the party ended — which, she was sure, would be the story that all of them would tell whenever they talked about the Christmas party.
Ken and Nick wouldn’t increase their come-ons now that she’d been come on (har-har), would they?
Her relationship with Taylor wouldn’t change, would it?
She wouldn’t feel incredibly embarrassed tomorrow, would she? And that feeling wouldn’t carry over and triple by Monday, requiring her to quit, would it?
She looked at Heather, still passed out under the blanket on the couch. Heather had missed all of it. And that was just happenstance, because had Heather had less to drink at the party, she would have played through to the end. Heather had been the number two girl all along, after all, and maybe Jessie wouldn’t even have been very involved.
After a few minutes, Taylor stood, shook out her long, blonde hair, and announced that she needed a cleanup. She presented her back to Ken, who grabbed one of the kitchen’s dish towels and wiped her clean. Then he did the same for the chair, then threw the dish towel into the garbage. Jessie had a disturbing fear that someone might see it there on top, think it had fallen in by accident, and retrieve it, so she grabbed some paper garbage from the recycling can and pressed it down on top of the towel to bury it.
They discarded the joints and their detritus, closed the windows, returned the space heaters, and got dressed. Jessie was already extremely embarrassed, and she got dressed with her back to the others.
When everything was cleaned up, Nick woke Heather and told her that it was time to go home. He volunteered to take her. After watching Nick shoot a load on Taylor’s back, the gesture seemed surprisingly gentlemanly. Jessie even believed — and maybe she was being naive, but she didn’t think so — that Nick would actually just take her home and not try to fuck her.
Jessie couldn’t say goodbye. The idea sounded pointless and ridiculously normal. You said goodbye after meetings and after reunions and after a lot of other things, but you didn’t say it after a random sex party. After a random sex party, you did the walk of shame without a word, your head hung low.
But Taylor actually hugged both of the men, saying she’d see them at work on Monday. Watching it, Jessie thought that her opinion of Taylor was about to take a nose dive, but it didn’t. Instead, the cordialness of it all reframed everything for Jessie. What had just happened, for Taylor, was simply blowing off steam. Jessie wasn’t like Taylor, but she couldn’t find it in herself to think of Taylor as a slut, either. And besides, it wasn’t her place to point any fingers. All that separated what she’d done tonight from what Taylor had done was just a technicality. Swap a tongue-job for an insertion and they’d be more or less on par.
“Coming?” said Taylor, turning off lights.
Jessie flinched. “What?”
Taylor gave a small laugh. “Literally coming. We drove together, remember?”
Shit. Jessie just wanted to go home, sit in a warm tub, and try to make sense of all of this before it crushed her. The last thing she wanted to do was to prolong the awkwardness.
Taylor came over, put a hand on her arm, and said, “Hey. Tonight was something, right?”
Jessie laughed.
“First time doing anything this crazy?”
Jessie nodded. “By a long shot.”
Taylor looked into her eyes. Jessie found herself remembering that long, long kiss, and the way Taylor had seemed to look into her very center.
“Mind a piece of advice?”
“I think I could use one.”
“You wanted to do this,” said Taylor.
“That’s not advice.”
“The advice is to keep that in mind, and not deny it. You’d had a few drinks at the party and a few tokes earlier, but that was all gone by the time things heated up. What we did, you did in a state of mind sufficient to swear to a will.”
Taylor talked like a lawyer. Then Jessie remembered how high-level the work was that Taylor did, and reminded herself not to make the mistake, after tonight, of dismissing her as some random skank.
“That’s advice, but it’s not much of a piece of advice,” said Jessie.
“It’s a process. This was a part of you that wanted an excuse to come out. The more you try to deny it and repress it, the more you’ll deny that part of yourself… while also feeling terrible that it exists.”
They closed up, locked the doors, and began walking toward the car. They got in in silence, started the engine, and drove off. Jessie wanted to turn on the radio to break the silence, but she didn’t. She was trying to process what Taylor had said.
“How are you, Jessie?” said Taylor a few minutes later.
“Fine,” said Jessie. She smiled, then added, “Satisfied.”
“Things falling into place?”
“Maybe.”
“Not everyone is like us, and that’s fine,” said Taylor. “But we are like us. You’ll want to sit with that, and think on it.”
“I was going to draw a hot bath when I got home, to sit and think.”
“Do you have a nice tub?”
Jessie laughed. “No. Not at all.”
Taylor nodded. Then she said, “I have a really big, really nice tub. Maybe you’d like to do your thinking there.”
The idea was ridiculous, but some part of her was interested. She tried to take Taylor’s advice and not repress it. And there was still that small, vibrating presence inside of her. She wasn’t lying when she said she was satisfied, but there were degrees to everything.
“How big and how nice is it?” said Jessie.
“Big enough for two.”
“Ah.”
“With room to spare,” said Taylor. “For… splashing around.”
Jessie pursed her lips into a small, almost devilish smile.
“I’ll bet I can help you think,” said Taylor. “Come to grips, I mean.”
Jessie looked over. Taylor really was beautiful. But it was more than that. Jessie just plain, flat-out liked Taylor. In several ways.
“Okay,” said Jessie. “I’ll do my thinking in your tub.”
“Excellent.”
“And maybe I can do some other things, too — if I can find any other interested parties.”
“If,” said Taylor.
They drove on through the q
uiet streets, under strings of red and green lights.
About the Author
Hi, I’m Lexi!
I write sexy stories about people who know what they want and aren’t afraid to reach out and take it.
I think that most books would have erotic elements if more writers were willing to tell the truth, and I’m not afraid to let the camera roll in the intimate places where other authors would yell “cut.”
I believe that sexy stories allow us to learn more about ourselves, and see how sex and intimacy fit into our world—so I write those stories and then share them with you.
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~ Lexi Maxxwell
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