by Deja Voss
My goofy but dangerous game.
A game that people who are ‘just friends’ don’t indulge in. Screw it; he started it. I don’t know what the outcome of a game like this is, just that we’re probably both going to lose.
From what I can see, he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, his phone propped up. All I can make out is his face, his long blonde hair and solid jawline, those bright blue eyes staring at me as his lips twist into a cruel smile.
I see his shirt come off over his head.
“Move your phone,” I say. “I can’t see you.”
“That’s not how this is going to work, Esther. You want to see me? It’s going to be in person. You just say the word.” I hear the shuffle of his jeans and I imagine those gorgeous thick thighs of his. “Mmm,” he groans. “Yeah, you’re definitely going to want to see this.”
He looks down and nods to me. “I like when you play games, Esther. So does my dick. “Are you gonna take that shirt off now? Or are you going to keep pretending like this isn’t going to happen?”
His words turn me on, but I feel so self-conscious.
“Come on, love,” he teases. “It’s not like I haven’t seen them before. Show me what you do when you think I’m not looking.”
“Not fair,” I whine, picturing his rock-hard abs covered in black ink, the hairs on his chest, every lean muscle in his arms.
“You know me well enough to know that I don’t play fair. I’d rather play dirty, Esther. Now show me your tits before I hang up this phone.”
It’s a side of him I haven’t seen before. A side of him that makes me wonder why I didn’t pull the trigger sooner. My heart races as I begin to tug the t-shirt up over my head, exposing my black lace bra and boy short underwear. I’m holding my breath. I feel so naked. He nods in approval and I hear him groan, “Perfect. God, your body is perfect.”
“I want to see what you’re doing,” I whisper. “I want to see your body.”
“You know exactly what I’m doing, Esther. And it’s all your fault. Are you going to be a good girl and take off that bra for me?”
I gulp and nod. Maybe he has seen all of me before, but for me, it still feels like the first time. I have spent years of my life imagining what it would be like if we ever hooked up, trying to perfect every detail of the scenario; hell, it’s one of my major fantasies. This isn’t what I expected at all.
Still, it’s incredibly fucking hot. I can hear his hand slide up and down his shaft, the way he’s biting his lip, looking at me like a hungry wolf who wants nothing more than to devour me alive. I slide out of my bra and let my curvy breasts free, my nipples already hard nubs, tender with anticipation. He lets out a light gasp, as if the sight of my body is painful.
“What do you do next?” he goads. “When you think I’m not watching.”
Every time he reminds me is like fuel to the fire. I feel my core throbbing. I know my panties are soaked. He’s got me wound up tighter than I’ve ever been wound, and I feel like I’m paralyzed.
“Come on, Esther, we both know how much you love tugging on those pretty little nipples of yours. How it makes you scream. I want to hear that. I want you to do that for me.”
I nervously run my hands over my skin. It’s not like me to feel so shy. I love showing off my body on camera. I know exactly what to do to get myself off and drive a crowd wild, but this feels so different. He’s definitely not a stranger, but I’ve never given this part of myself to him. I cup my breasts in my hands, feeling my flesh pebble underneath my touch, throwing my head back and letting out a sigh.
“Eyes on me,” he commands. If I wasn’t drenched before, I definitely am now. I squeeze my thighs together, my dripping pussy yearning for just the right stroke that will send me over the edge. I stare deep into his eyes, let the nerves melt away, the regret, the worry that I’m making a really bad life choice right now. He’s my best friend. He always has been. If we can’t share this dirty part of our souls, then who can we share it with, really?
I let my fingers trace my nipples, playing with the hard little peaks, pulling at them until I can’t hold my moans.
“I love that sound,” he says. “Are you wet yet?”
I nod, tracing my hands down my stomach, running them down to my thighs as I spread my legs ever so slightly. I slip my hand underneath my panties, sliding my fingers around the outside of my dripping slit as I shiver. “So fucking wet, Brooks.”
“I bet you want fucked so hard right now, don’t you, girl? I bet that pussy is begging for you to slip a finger inside of it while you pretend like it’s my dick you’re riding.”
I pick up my trusty vibrator and bat my eyelashes at him. All I need is four seconds and I’ll be screaming and writhing for him, gushing all over my bedsheets.
“We have two options here,” he growls. “You can stick that thing on your clit, I can bust my nut, and we can feel disgusting about ourselves for the next five minutes and hang up the phone, or I can be at your house before you have time to unlock the front door and I can make you feel disgusting all night long.”
“My front door’s already unlocked,” I whisper.
“Put that fucking thing back in the drawer,” he urges. “And lose the panties.”
The screen on the phone goes black and I fall back on the bed, my heart racing and my thighs trembling. At least it’s all out there on the table; this is just a dirty disgusting fling between friends who need to get something out of their system. I close my eyes, waiting for him to burst through the door, my breath shallow.
Four minutes feels like forever. Four minutes to change my mind. Lock that door. We can laugh about this someday when he’s married to a nice woman who isn’t a prostitute and I’m old, washed-up, and hoarding cats.
I hear the front door swing open. I wait for his footsteps in the hallway.
“Brooks…” I start to say when I see him looming in my bedroom doorway, sexy as always, eyeing me up like he’s stalking his prey.
“Don’t even start,” he growls. “We’ve spent our whole lives overthinking things. Right now I just want to fuck you.”
He’s pulling off his shirt, those inked abs I’ve stolen glances at all these years, hard and perfect, and I shiver, imagining them pressed up tight to my body as he thrusts in and out of me.
He jumps up on the bed, straddling my body, overpowering me, his lips centimeters from mine. I reach up and grab him by the back of his head, pulling him into me for our first real kiss.
Dammit, I think. It’s not bad at all. It’s good. It’s more than good. It’s everything I’ve ever imagined it to be, his tongue hungrily swirling my mouth, rough, commanding, electric.
In the back of my mind, I was almost hoping that one kiss would be enough for us to come to our senses. That it would be so awful, so awkward, we could just call a time-out and go about our business.
But it’s not. My back arches, moaning into his mouth as his hand travels down my throat, grabbing for my breast, squeezing it just hard enough to show me who’s in charge.
Who’s owning my body.
Who’s doing the fucking.
I might be an expert in a clinical sense, but this man is a sex god.
I reach for the button on his jeans, but it’s already undone. I grasp for his waistband, pulling down his pants and boxer briefs in one hard swoop. I’ve been waiting so long to get my hands on his perfect ass, never mind the raging erection that’s poking me in the stomach.
He’s so hard. He’s so thick.
“Just fuck me, Brooks,” I beg. I don’t need foreplay. The last fifteen years of my life have been foreplay enough. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been before, and I don’t care if his cock is going to rip me in half. I want him inside me.
He lines the head of his cock up with my slit, tormenting me while he drags it up and down.
“God, you’re soaked,” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath on my neck electrifying my whole body.
He slips inside me without any res
istance, stretching my walls as they contract around him, milking his cock for everything he has to offer. All I can do, pinned under the weight of his strong body, is dig my fingernails into the corded muscles of his back. I’m a screaming, quivering, melting mess, and he’s unrelenting, the way he just slowly saws in and out of me, each thrust bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
He knows exactly what he’s doing. Every time I feel my toes curl, he backs off, slows down, prolonging my ecstasy. I feel like I’m melting, riding a wave between full-blown orgasm and gentle tremors of pleasure washing over me.
The man’s right.
If this is how he fucks, then I should probably just throw that vibrator out the window.
“I’m so close,” I squeal, the sound coming from my throat a whine, a howl, a desperate plea for release.
“That’s cute, Esther,” he says, his voice vibrating through my skull. “You think you’re getting off that easy?”
He pulls out of me, stroking his gorgeous cock right over my stomach. I feel shocked, I feel empty. I feel frustrated.
“I’ve been waiting to do this for so long. I’ve been waiting to show you what it’s like to be with a real man. I’m gonna make you cum a million times, but first I’m gonna fuck you stupid. I’m gonna own you. I’m gonna push you towards that edge until you want to throw yourself off a cliff.”
All I can do is blink up at him, staring into those gorgeous eyes as he lays down the rules.
“You’ve always been such a tease. The way you kiss me goodbye, the way you’re always touching me, the way you accidentally forget to wear a bra whenever you invite me inside for drinks,” he growls. “It’s my turn now.”
“Shit,” I mutter, my eyes wide, not really sure what I’m getting myself into.
He laughs at me, stroking my hair out of my face, wrapping it around his fist and gripping it tight.
“That’s good,” he shrugs. “Now get over here and suck my dick.”
13
Brooks
Sure, I’m being an asshole, but that’s what she likes. How do I know? Years of watching, years of observing. I didn’t go into this completely blind; I’ve been planning this day for a long, long time.
I’ve seen her after ‘work,’ as much as it fucking pains me. She’s a completely different person. She’s disassociated. She goes somewhere else. She takes charge and doesn’t let anyone even come close to getting at what’s deep inside of her.
Not how she is when she’s alone.
Not how she is when she’s with me.
When she’s with me, she’s all mine, only mine, all there. I’ve got her in the palm of my hand and she knows I could destroy her at any second. Shatter her. She trusts me. It’s so hot.
I let her ease her pretty lips around my dick, her tongue swirling my sensitive head. I could cum any second know, just looking down at her, desperate to please me while I grip her by the hair. I’m not going to, though. If this is going to be my only chance with her, I’m going to do whatever I can to make it last.
“Oh that’s so fucking good,” I growl, pushing her further down my shaft, feeling her warm mouth take me in as far as she can. She gags briefly, but pushes forward, until I feel my cock grazing the back of her throat. I loosen my grip on her gorgeous red hair, just enough so that she still knows I’m there, but letting her take over, my only desire to know exactly how bad she wants me.
I reach for her swollen mound; she’s dripping. She’s rocking her hips into my hand like a wild woman, moaning into my cock. I’ve got her in the palm of my hand, literally, and I know that all I have to do is move my finger in just the right way and she’ll be cumming buckets.
I have the power to give her the only thing she wants right now, and for the first time in our whole lives, I actually feel like she’s mine. Even if it’s just a second. Even if I’m doing whatever I can not to shoot my load in her mouth, her gorgeous pouty lips wrapped around my dick is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
I’ve been dreaming about this for years.
I press my finger against her warm throbbing clit. I feel the tremors ripping through her body.
In one swoop, I pull out of her mouth, flip her on her stomach, and enjoy the feeling of the walls of her pussy contracting around my cock.
Fucking her. Owning her. Showing her that I have everything that she needs in her life.
Not a friend.
A man who knows how to take care of her, how to make her pussy gush, and how to love her unconditionally.
But right now, I can’t hold off any more. I feel my cock twitch inside of her, her moans and pleas enough to drive me off the deep end.
I pull out, and with a devious smile on her face, she rolls over, grinning from ear to ear.
“May I?” she whispers before taking me in her mouth once again, and just those two words alone are enough to get me off.
I’ve never cum so hard before in my life. My ultimate fantasy fulfilled, having her for the night is, unfortunately, the best I’ve ever had.
Nothing will ever compare again to this little redheaded fox doing everything she possibly can to please me. The girl I’ve always loved.
The only girl I’ve ever really loved.
I’m screwed.
We both are quaking. I’m sure she’s come to the reality of what she’s done, that this can’t be undone, but we both collide back onto her comforter, my hands never leaving her body. I need to feel her as close to me as possible. I need to make sure this is real. Like the second I let go of her, all of this is going to go away.
I’m certain it is. That’s just how shit like this works. We’re not meant to be together, even though I want her more than anything in the world. She knows it, I know it, but neither one of us has the desire to admit it right in this moment.
“Holy shit, Brooks,” she sighs. “I don’t know if I’m gonna be up for the million orgasms you promised me.” She sweetly wipes the sweat from my brow, looking into my eyes. “Maybe after a nap and a sandwich. But I don’t think I can even walk at this point.”
All I can do is laugh. Laugh so I don’t say something really stupid.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, looking concerned all of a sudden.
“Nothing at all.” I pull her in for a kiss, needing to feel those lips on mine once again, needing to show her a little tenderness. I don’t want her to think she’s just some slam piece. She’s still Esther. I run my fingers through her hair and she softens in my arms. Our bodies fit together like we were made this way. Like of all the damn places on this earth either of us could’ve been dropped, of all the lives we could’ve had, it was meant to be like this.
“Why did you do it, Brooks?” she asks, her back facing me. “Why were you watching me? You’ve known me so long. We talk about everything.”
“Do we really though?” I ask her.
She doesn’t say anything to me, just wraps her fingers in mine. If we talk about it, then we have to admit all the reasons why this will never work. It’s easier to just live in this fantasy land where right now is all that matters.
“I watch you because it makes me feel like I have a part of you that no one else does. I like to know that you’re safe and happy. I let you down before, and it kills me every day. It wasn’t supposed to end up being some perverted Peeping Tom thing. I can’t help it that your hobbies give me a boner.”
“I’ll take that,” she says with a shrug. “You know you have a part of me no one else does, even if none of this ever happened, though. You have to know that by now.”
I do.
I just needed to hear her say it.
And now I don’t know if it’s a gift or a curse of a lifetime of misery.
It doesn’t matter now. I’m scared to move. Scared to make any move at all that will snap us out of this moment.
14
I don’t know if it’s a dream come true or the start of some sort of wide-awake nightmare that’s only just beginning.
Her
soft body is nestled up against mine, her breath sweet and shallow. She looks so pretty and perfect when she sleeps, but I already knew that, the creep that I am. I want nothing more than to join her in slumber, but my mind is racing.
“Hey,” I whisper in her ear, brushing her hair out of her face.
She blinks her eyes open, and I expect the worst. Instead, she just smiles at me groggily. “What time is it?” she whispers, her voice hoarse.
“I dunno, but your brother is gonna be beating down my door in a couple hours. I can’t blow him off again.”
“Well aren’t you a lucky guy,” she giggles. “You can’t get away from us Bodens, no matter what you do.”
“Well I promise I won’t be doing any of this with him.”
“Get outta here,” she says. She kisses me on the cheek in that not quite so casual way she always has, and this time I know I’m not just reading into things.
“What are you getting into today?” I ask as I pick my clothes up off the floor.
“Taking a ride downtown. There’s a pervert running around peeking in girls’ windows and I don’t have any blinds.”
She grabs a pillow and chucks it at me.
“Are we good here?” I ask, not sure what the appropriate protocol is supposed to be about moving forward. Obviously, if I had my way, she’d be on the back of my bike and moved into my house tomorrow, but it’s all on her.
“I just want to give you a heads-up,” she says somberly. “I have a job this weekend. Salazar. I’m gonna do it.” I don’t know if she’s asking my permission or looking for a lifeline, or if she just wants to establish the fact that this thing is just a fling between us.
“OK.” I shrug, feeling her reaction out. I want to put my fist through the wall, but it’s not my place. If she’s going to be my old lady, I’m definitely not sharing her, no matter what it means to the club.