by Amy Brent
During our year long relationship, Trey had tried to fuck me many times, but I always refused him. Although I liked him a lot, having him as my first never felt right. It was hard to explain why, but as I watched the hungry need in which the girl welcomed that guy’s cock into her mouth, I realized that was the reason I was still a virgin. I had never been hungry for Trey or any other man.
But for some reason, I was hungry now.
I had no idea if it was due to frustration or loneliness, but I wanted to feel something as intense as what the girl on TV was feeling. I wanted to forget, if only for a moment, about my fast track plan and my perfect GPA and just focus on feeling something other than pressured, tired and lonely.
So, as the man continued to fuck the blonde’s mouth, my hands wandered to my breasts. My touch was timid and unsure, just light massage and soft pinches to my nipples, and thought the sensation was good it wasn’t what I expected it would be. Growing more frustrated by the second, I thought about giving up and writing sex as one of the few things I wasn’t good at. However, before I could reach for the remote, the man’s pleasure reached its peak and poured out of him, covering the girl’s chin, neck and chest as he groaned like an animal.
I have no idea why, but the sight of a girl who even looked like me covered in some guy’s sperm was so hot and forbidden it liberated me from thoughts of what I should do or feel at that moment and allowed me to relax and simply enjoy what was happening. With a deep breath, I leaned against the pillows and cleared my mind.
In that sweet emptiness of desire, my hands came alive and started working my sensitive nipples with a liberated energy. As the couple on my screen kissed and made their way to bed, I pinched, rolled, flickered and massaged my rosy peaks until my heart started to race, and my center became warm and wet with arousal. The delicious and strange sensation propelled me forward and urged me to explore other parts of my body.
As he picked the girl up from the floor and tossed her onto a bed, my right hand left my breast and traveled on a downward path that connected my tits to my pussy. My knees widened to welcome my fingers into my wet center just as the man on the screen flipped his lover onto all fours and started to push himself inside of her.
The scene playing out in front of me was so fucking arousing it breathed new life into my hands and, out of their own accord, my fingers started moving and circling around my clit. My movements were slow and tentative at first, but as my body began to get used to the sensation, my fingers moved faster and faster until I was pleasuring myself with the same voracity as that man was fucking his partner. Still, it didn’t feel like enough.
Never moving my eyes from the TV, I continued to rub my clit and pinch my nipples until my lips parted to pull in breaths that never fully filled my chest. Before I knew what was happening, my heart started to pound, my limbs began to tingle, and the world disappeared. Everything that existed was the growing pleasure inside of me and my need for release.
Although I didn’t really know what to expect, I could tell I was close, and I treasured every second of the delicious sensation. Then, as my toes curled and my eyes finally closed to enjoy my very first orgasm, I heard noise coming from the other side of the door. I could tell someone was calling me, but I refused to acknowledge and just kept circling my fingers until I felt myself dangling from the edge of a precipice and then falling into a sea of pleasure.
“Jess,” I heard mom’s voice calling from the other side of the door as I relaxed into the incredible sensation that followed my orgasm. “You awake? I have something important to talk to you.”
I turned off the TV and pulled in a deep breath through my mouth. Doing my best to steady my voice, I replied, “Yeah, I’m just changing. Give me five, okay?”
“Okay, baby,” mom replied, and I heard her heels walking away.
A smile curled up on my lips as the after effects of my new favorite pastime started to wear off. Decided to do this again and often, I got up from the bed and went to put some clothes on, feeling better and more relaxed than I had in ages.
Dressed in a comfortable pajama set, I exited my room with that silly grin still on my face and went over to the kitchen where my mother was waiting. Barefoot but still in her uniform dress and with her hair tied in a neat bun, Mom was perched on top of the counter and munching on the rest of my pizza with a worried line creasing her furrowed brow.
“Didn’t you just go out for dinner?” I asked as I approached her.
With a roll of her hazel eyes, she replied, “Yeah, but the whole thing was so crazy I barely ate.”
Despite my curiosity, I stepped away from the subject for a second to hug my mom. My display of affection broke through her anxious eating and made her face relax a little. We had a brief conversation about what she had seen in her travels and of how much we had missed each other while she was away, and once those subjects were exhausted, I stepped away and leaned against the counter opposite to her.
Pulling my brows together, I asked, “Why was your dinner crazy?”
The worry returned to my mother’s face, and instead of replying, she simply reached into her purse and removed a small black box which she tossed over to me. With my frown deepening, I opened it and gasped at the gorgeous—and huge—diamond ring inside.
“What the actual hell?” I asked as my gaze bounced back to her.
A small smirk curled up on her lips as she nodded. “I was proposed to by a man I’ve only seen twice in my life. He plans to be unfaithful and divorce me in a year, but if I say yes and marry him, you and I will be multimillionaires.”
Thoroughly confused, I shook my head and asked for more information so I could understand the situation better. Although she was clearly overwhelmed as well, mom did her best to explain everything and fill me in on all the details of her bizarre proposal.
From the information she was able to give me about Ben Walker, he seemed like a nice enough man, and though the whole proposition was a little too crazy for my taste, the more mom explained it, the better it sounded. Since starting college, I had blamed myself for the strain my career choice had put on my mother. As a single mother, she had always worked a lot to provide for us, but with the added expense of my tuition and student loans, I knew she was working herself to an early grave.
Because I loved her and wanted her to live a long and happy life, I couldn’t help but think that maybe this marriage deal wasn’t such a crazy idea after all. Perhaps, it was the answer to our prayers.
“And you wouldn’t have to sleep with him or do anything weird?” I asked once she was done explaining.
A frown formed on my mom’s face. “Of course, not. I’m not a whore, Jessica. To the world, we would be husband and wife, but inside our home, we would be just friends. I would have my own room and everything.”
“Then you should do it,” I finally advised, and her eyes widened. “If you’re sure he’s not going to murder us in our sleep, then marry him. It’s just a year, and you’re traveling most of the time anyways. I’m always at school and would have some company at night while you’re away. And, most importantly, at the end of it, we would have a more relaxed life than what we have now. I know you love your job, but wouldn’t it be nice to work a regular schedule every once in a while? Maybe you could enjoy the places you visit instead of just hopping from airport to airport.”
Mom sighed and looked up at me with a new light sparkling in her eyes. “Enjoying traveling would be fun.” I smiled at her and nodded my agreement. “Okay, then. I guess you’re finally getting a daddy.”
I laughed at her joke and pulled out a couple beers from the fridge to celebrate. After twenty-two years struggling to get by, our luck was about to change. Yay!
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Copyright © 2018 Amy Brent – All Rights Reserved
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This is a work of fiction. While, as in all fiction, the literary perceptions and insights are based on life experiences and conclusions drawn from research, all names, characters, places and specific instances are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. No actual reference to any real person, living or dead, is intended or inferred.