“I don’t know. Because you’re a man.”
“Yeah, and I know how men think. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re still young.” Too young to be hanging around with boys.
Fuck. I have to make sure she never goes to any classic car rides. Too much shit goes on at them. Shit she’s too good for.
“I’ll be in high school in a few months,” Piper whines.
“But for the next few weeks, you’re still in middle school.”
She grumbles and takes a big mouthful of the chili. We eat in silence for a few minutes. I’m hungry, and it’s enough time to finish my food. I stand and refill my plate from the pot on the stove.
“Want more?” I ask.
“No, thanks. We should have Avery over for dinner.”
“Where did that come from?”
“She’s soooo amazing. You would love her. Can she come over for dinner? Can she?” Her smile is ear to ear.
“No.” As if. I’m not inviting her into my home. That would just be asking her to stick her nose in more places. Avery would probably tell me my cooking isn’t good enough for my daughter, or that her bedroom isn’t nice enough.
“Why not? That’s not fair. She’s funny, I know you’d like her. Why can’t she come over?”
Why would I like someone who tells me I’m a bad father?
“Because I said so. Why should she?”
“Because she’s our neighbor, and she’s great. She’s way more fun than Mrs Coupland,” Piper says, her eyes wide.
“Mrs Coupland never came for supper either.”
“But, Dad.”
“No buts,” I say in my firmest voice.
Defeated, she sinks back into her chair and finishes her dinner.
We watch two episodes of Law & Order before she goes to bed. Like every night, I flop exhausted on the couch and wonder how I’m going to make it through the teenage years.
I churn it around in my brain until I get fed up with thinking about it.
After flicking through all the channels on TV, I give up on finding something to take my mind off things, and decide I’d better check Avery’s YouTube channel to make sure I’m not on it.
The video she posted today is called Hot and Bothered. It turns out to be her talking about a book. An instruction manual on how to have good sex. Avery talks about how wonderful and amazing the book is.
“Every single person is guaranteed to learn a new sex tip in this, I promise you,” Avery says in her sultry voice.
Don’t think so.
Something comes over me. Before I can stop myself, I’ve registered a YouTube account and type out a response on my iPad.
Ox Man: I promise you I can teach you more than what’s in that book, guaranteed. Anytime you want a lesson, baby.
I chuckle out loud as I read it back. What will she make of it?
Before I know it, I’ve watched five more of her videos, and I’m sitting on my bed with my rock hard cock in my hand. This is stupid, I know. I shouldn’t be associating the meddler with a reason to get a chubby.
But right now I can’t help myself.
I stare at her full lips as they move, her voice sending shivers down my back. Gripping my cock, I imagine running the tip along her lips. How soft they’d be against me, before silencing her sexy voice by ramming my full length over her tongue and down her throat.
My hand moves faster and faster over my shaft while the memory of her voice puts my body on higher and higher edge. I imagine undoing more of those buttons she had on today, and picture what her tits look like. What shape they take as they hang braless from her body.
Avery says, “When she’s good and wet, and I mean dripping wet, put your cock in her and…”
I don’t hear the and. The thought of my cock moving in her dripping wet pussy makes my cock erupt. My body shudders violently, and I flop back onto the bed to let the ecstasy wash over me.
After a few minutes, I curse myself for what I’ve done. I have to stop watching her videos. I have to stop thinking of her voice when I come. It pisses me off that I didn’t have more restraint.
Avery
It’s Friday, and a beautiful day outside. It’s seventy five degrees, the warmest day of the year so far, and I’ve opened every window in the house to air it out. The goal is to totally eliminate the lingering smell of the last owner and make it all mine.
Because it is all mine. Not one single penny came from anyone else. The thought fills me with pride.
When I started making my YouTube videos, my friends all laughed at me. Except Darla, of course. They were all laughing at her too, and we spent many a long night consoling each other. Vodka was the biggest help in blocking out their taunting. Especially Nathan’s.
But who’s laughing now?
Both of us are now making good money. Best of all, they’re sitting in cubicles all day dreaming of doing something more with their lives and we’re doing what we want to do.
My plan for this afternoon is to familiarize myself with the next few products I’m going to pimp on video tomorrow. (Yes, I work seven days a week.) I have a schedule for releasing them that I have to meet, so I don’t have any control over the order once I’ve agreed and settled on a date and price with the client.
Tomorrow, I have to get Xtreme Buzz filmed and ready to post for Monday.
I go to my fake bedroom, grab the box and sit at my desk in front of the window.
The first thing I always do is examine the packaging. Xtreme Buzz comes in a purple box that looks expensive and it weighs a lot. The writing on the back promises all the power of an outboard motor and guarantees mind-exploding play every time.
Sure.
I pimp so many of these vibrators, and they all say the same. Well, maybe not the outboard motor part. That’s kind of weird.
It’s a sturdy box and I lift the lid, exposing the toy inside. It’s wrapped in a silky cloth that’s covered in purple kisses. It’s visual, and will look good on the webcam, which is always a bonus. Pretty items get a higher purchase rate, and I get a kick back on every sale I send them.
Plus, now that I don’t have a sex life, solo toys are easiest for me to yammer on about. Since I identify with them now and all.
It’s really hard to do this job without a sex life. How depressing, dishing out advice to all these people having sex, when I haven’t had so much as a kiss in six whole months.
I think I’m even forgetting how it’s done. And I’m certainly running out of new ideas. Sometimes I feel like a nun doling out sex advice.
Turning my attention to the toy, at first I think you only plug the Xtreme Buzz in to charge it, then realize the cord is fixed in. This vibrator must be used while plugged into the wall. The cord is long, but that’s still some planning if you’re going to use it with a partner. ‘Over here honey, near the plug.’ Yeah.
Maybe it’s intended to be used solo.
I get down on my hands and knees to plug it in under my desk. Once I’m back in my chair, I turn on the dial. It’s the lowest setting, but the vibrations in my hand are strong enough to resonate through my entire body. And that’s at a slow speed.
Slowly, I turn up the dial until it’s at its fastest setting. Fuck me.
This thing is insane. Yes, it’s loud like an outboard motor, but holy fucking God, even just holding it in my hand sends vibrations through my entire body.
It’s making me wet, really wet, so I turn it off and drop it on my desk.
My breath heaves as I stare at it. Xtreme Buzz is actually an understatement. A script starts to form in my head and I gaze blankly out the window while I let it form.
A movement breaks my trance. It’s Knox, he’s lifting his garage door. As he stretches to open it fully, his t-shirt lifts up and exposes the bottom of his back muscles.
I zero in on the muscles, wishing he’d turn around so I can see his abs.
The next thing I know, Knox takes off his t-shirt and tosses it into his garage. My breath stops as I survey the
perfect specimen of a man.
In addition to all the arm tattoos, he has a few on his chest. His big, powerful, muscular chest.
This isn’t good. He’s my neighbor. And a jerk. I try to drag my eyes away, but can’t.
Like Darla said, there’s nothing wrong with looking. And right now I have the best view going.
Knox disappears into the garage. A few seconds later, a car reverses all the way out of the garage. It’s not the red Mustang from earlier this week. This one is powder blue, but I have no idea what it is. Something old, although it looks shiny new.
He gets out of the car and raises the hood. I assume he’s taking advantage of the beautiful weather as much as I am.
Leaning under the hood, his black jeans mold to his muscular ass, and I get a perfect view.
This is bad, and wrong, and all sorts of other stuff, but my pussy is still wet from the Xtreme Buzz and I have an itch that needs to be scratched.
Standing up, I undo my shorts and let them fall around my feet.
No. I shouldn’t do this.
But his ass, those arms, that torso. I slip my finger under my panties to feel how wet I am. Sopping. And at this point, it’s difficult to know how much is from the vibrator and how much is from Knox.
I pull off my panties and sit back at my desk. It takes a bit of contorting, but I get myself in a position where, due to the angles, I can discreetly look out my window at him without him being able to see me.
There’s no need for any lubricant, I’m wet enough already. I put the Xtreme Buzz to my entrance and insert it slowly into me. It’s actually quite thick and long. Fucking thick.
My breath is already shallow, and I slowly turn the dial on. The low setting resonates through me, but I keep on turning until it’s at the fastest setting.
It doesn’t take long before my entire body, from my head to my toes, is full of tension. I flick my eyes out the window at Knox.
He’s standing in a different position now, giving me a side view of his muscular bicep. I imagine his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight.
His imagined strength sends a low moan out of my mouth, and I wonder how long before the dam bursts. I concentrate on the pulsing inside of me as it builds and builds at an alarmingly fast rate. It seems like every cell in my body is vibrating, and my legs go weak.
A high-pitched moan bursts from me as the damn crumbles and my body gyrates with the craziest orgasm I’ve felt in years. Possibly ever.
My hand is shaking so much, it can barely hold the vibrator. But before my brain can send the signal to let go, the tension once again fills me. A single glance at Knox and my brain imagines all sorts of possibilities.
I muffle a scream as an even more powerful orgasm rips through me with such force, I fall out of my precarious position. I have to scramble to keep from falling over.
My laptop falls to the floor and the coffee mug falls onto it, smashing. I worry about the noise and if Knox heard it. Only then do I realize my head is smushed up against the window screen, and Knox is staring straight at me.
As fast as my still climaxing body can move, I slink down from the open window, off my desk and onto the floor.
Once the last ripples subside, I bury my hands in my face. As if the laptop incident wasn’t bad enough. I really hope I managed to dampen that scream. And all those moans. He’s only actually about ten feet away and what the hell was I thinking with the open windows.
Idiot.
Knox
I adjust my stiff cock in my jeans. Fuck me. There’s no doubt that was just Avery’s come face smushed up against her window screen. She’s going to have lines in her cheeks from it.
Not that she noticed at the time.
I don’t know what kind of sex toy that was, but it sure as fuck was loud.
Her moaning and screaming was better than I even imagined. The back of my neck is prickling at the memory of them.
But what the fuck was she doing, with her head up against her window? Making those noises. Doesn’t she know how close I am to her open window? It’s like she was up there just to call my cock into action.
Unless. No.
I put my t-shirt on and stick my head back under the hood of the ’58 Corvette that I’m working on. I brought it here from our main garage yesterday, where Marcus repaired the ripped upholstery in the seats. It’s almost ready, and I can do everything else that needs to be done here.
My cock doesn’t get the hint from my brain that this is work time, and that it needs to go down. Avery isn’t an option anyway.
No matter how hard she makes me.
I ignore the pain in my pants and force myself to focus on the car.
When it’s six, I head inside. There’s still enough chili for tonight, our third night in a row eating it. At some point in my life, I’m going to buy some plastic containers so I can freeze the leftovers and we don’t have to eat the same one-pot wonder night after night.
“Supper!” I call to Piper as I set everything on the table.
She appears, turns up her nose and whines, “Again?”
“Don’t worry, it’s gone now.”
“Can we order pizza tomorrow? Please?”
“Sure thing.” Saves me cooking on the weekend.
“It’s my shopping trip tomorrow, don’t forget. I need money, too. Like you said I could have.”
“Sure.”
I’d pushed it from my mind. Somehow the topic of me not being enough for my daughter wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on.
Piper swallows her food, and says, “Hey, can Avery come for pizza too?”
“No,” I snap without hesitation.
“But, Dad, why? It would be fun. And you’d love her, I know you would.”
Because I’d end up nailing her against the wall to coax those sounds she made earlier from her throat. I know I could do better than whatever sex toy she has to use.
“Because I said so.”
She takes another mouthful of food, and glares at me while she chews. I try my best to ignore her.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that you’re okay with sending me off to the mall with someone you don’t even know?”
“I do know her, she lives next door.”
“You know where she lives, that isn’t the same as knowing her.”
“Close enough.”
“Is it really? What if she’s an ax murderer and I’m too young and naive to see it?”
“Avery’s not an ax murderer.” Though she is a little weird. And is all over the internet talking about sex. And masturbates with her head against her window.
Maybe Piper is right. I should know Avery better before letting Piper go off with her on a shopping trip.
“Tell you what, go next door and tell Avery to come over here now for dessert.”
“Now?” she exclaims, jumping from her chair.
“Yes, now.”
“Dessert! Really?”
“Sure.”
“Do we have any? We never eat dessert.”
“I’ll find something. Go get her while I load the dishwasher.”
Piper runs out the front door, and I stack all the dishes into the dishwasher. I open the cupboard, looking for some sort of dessert, but there are only bags of chips and chocolate chip cookies.
Maybe there’s ice cream. I dig around in the freezer and find a tub of vanilla, but when I open the container it’s mostly empty and what’s left is covered in freezer burn.
Chocolate chip cookies will have to do.
While I wait for them, I crack open another beer and take a seat on the denim couch.
Piper’s been over there a while, and I start to wonder if Avery will come at all. Though I know how persuasive Piper is.
I finish off my beer and stand to get another when Piper comes bounding into the house, dragging Avery by the hand.
“Hey,” I say, nodding at Avery. I have to look away, to clear my mind of the image of her face pressed up against the window. If I don’t clear
it now, I’ll have to leave the room and hide in my bedroom, because there’s no way I’ll be able to have a conversation with her.
“What’s for dessert?” Piper says, bouncing into the kitchen.
“Chocolate chip cookies.”
Her face falls, “That’s it?”
“For you, yes.” I turn to Avery, she’s stifling a laugh. “Beer?” I ask.
“Sounds nice,” she says, her voice somehow even sexier than before.
Piper takes the entire package of cookies and says “Come on, Avery. Let’s sit down.”
I follow the two of them down into the living room, trying to keep my eyes off the sway of Avery’s ass as she walks in front of me.
Piper sits on the couch, and Avery sits beside her. I sit on the armchair, near Piper’s end of the couch.
Piper sits on her knees sideways on the couch, facing Avery with her back to me. Avery twists in her seat, and I have a full frontal view of her.
She’s wearing khaki shorts and a loose-fitting pink top that seems to emphasis her tits. I take a sip of my beer to force my eyes from her. When I come up for air, I rest the can on my knee and stare at it.
They talk to each other while I listen, my eyes fixed on my beer. Once I get used to hearing so much of Avery’s voice, my dick settles down and I’m able to hear what they’re actually saying.
I can’t believe how Avery plays right along with all Piper’s would you rather questions, and always has another one ready to give to Piper. They seem to have some sort of connection.
The longer I sit here and listen to them, the more grateful I am for Avery taking Piper shopping. Maybe it’s time for me to acknowledge I can’t do the girly shit after all. And God knows it’s only going to get harder and more serious than buying bras.
It was a good piece of luck, Avery moving in next door. For Piper’s sake.
“What about you, Knox? You’re being awfully quiet,” Avery says.
“Huh?”
“Would you rather have x-ray vision or be able to read minds?” Piper asks.
I raise my eyes to them and exhale through my mouth.
“Easy, x-ray vision,” I say. If I had x-ray vision I could see straight through that pink top Avery’s wearing.
Pierce Me: Satisfied by the Bad Boy Page 38