She’s a chameleon in the truest sense, and I sometimes wonder if her ridiculously rich father realizes that this polished, perfect version of his daughter is nothing more than a show. Behind the curtain, she’s kind of mean and insecure, which she hides behind fake smiles and sharp comments. And that’s when she’s not doing the splits in my bed while I’m coming over her pounded pussy.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I discreetly pull it out, drinking water. Beside me, Amy tells her parents that she’s been asked to organize a fundraiser for the homeless shelter. Her mother, a socialite who considers herself a connoisseur, launches into a spiel about food choices and flower arrangements.
Unlocking my phone, I almost choke on my drink.
Arkin:I can still taste your cum.
I’m coughing violently, so Amy pats me on the back and swaps concerned glances with her parents. I wave her off, drinking more water to settle my coughing. But of course, that only makes me choke more.
I can still taste your cum.
Dammit.
Now all I can think about is Arkin tasting me… The way he looked at me as he dragged his tongue through my semen on his hand. I never expected him to message something so…sexual.
Unlike the beef casserole earlier, I could barely taste the Husk Meringue a waiter brought us for dessert.
My mind spins and my hands tremble slightly as I wipe them on a tissue. Glancing around the table, I turn the phone over to read the message again, ready to shut him down with a scathing reply.
How dare he do this to me? I’m at dinner with my girlfriend and trying to act normal. To forget about the shit he pulled and the confusing emotions he has evoked since he entered my home. But no. I can’t even eat a meringue without sprouting a hard-on at the thought of that damn guy. I’m not gay or bi or whatever the fuck else. I’m just…straight.
But even as the wordstraightbounces around in my brain like a pinball, my stomach tightens uncomfortably. The meringue gets caught in my throat like a jagged rock, and no matter how much I swallow, I can’t dislodge it.
After dinner,we head to Amy’s room, and while her favorite romance movieDear Johnplays on the TV, she snuggles up to me amongst her countless pillows. We’ve watched this movie endless times. Amy knows all the lines and she mouths them now as she draws circles on my chest through my T-shirt with her ridiculously long nails.
Staring at the numerous teddies on her dresser, I feel my skin crawl. There’s even a ballerina song box that she’s had since she was five or something. Her parents still treat her like a Disney princess, and her room reflects that, with baby pink walls, soft pastels, and stuffed toys. Needless to say, I always feel like a creep when I’m here. Like I’m a predator with a thing for underage girls, which is ridiculous since Amy is the same age as me. Even so, when she lifts her head off my shoulder andoffers me one of her signatureI want to fucksmiles, my stomach churns as if the meringue wants to make a reappearance.
Channing Tatum disappears from the screen, replaced by Amy’s lust-filled expression as she straddles me. “Do you know what I thought about during dinner?” she asks, pulling her dress off and unclipping her bra.
Unable to help myself, I cup her breasts, feeling their weight in my hands. I like fucking her, even if I don’t like the décor in her room, and when she dives her hand into my underwear, my body reacts.
“I kept thinking about all the dirty things I want you to do to me.” She strokes my cock, grazing her nipple over my mouth. I capture it between my teeth, trying to be in the here and now with a set of spectacular tits in my face. But it’s hard to concentrate when thoughts of Arkin invade.
I grunt, “Like what?” and then lick a path to her other nipple.
I can still taste your cum.
My eyes squeeze shut as I inwardly curse my damn thoughts. What will it take to stop thinking about him?
“Like how I couldn’t wait to go upstairs and fuck you while Daddy works in his office to avoid being around my mum any more than he has to.”
“That’s disturbing,” I mumble, biting the soft flesh. “But I like these tits.” Squeezing them together, I force down any thoughts that involve muscular, silent guys with big dicks and veiny hands.
Amy frees my hard cock, slides her panties aside, and sinks down. She’s tight, and it takes her a few moments to bottom out, but then she’s bouncing on me while I massage her breasts.
It’s strange… I usually love sex, but my chest feels empty tonight. It's just this big hole with nothing in it, and not even Amy’s bobbing tits can fill the space. It still feels good, though.So I lean into that and let her take her pleasure. It’s weird to be this distanced. Like I don’t really want to be here, with her.
After shifting positions, I shove her face into the fluffy pillows before rooting through the bedside drawer for lube. Amy squeaks as I squirt the cold liquid over her tight exit, and while I prep her with my fingers, my phone vibrates in my pocket with an incoming call.
“Want me to fuck you here?” I ask her, knuckle deep in her ass.
“Yes. God, yes.” She moans, squirming.
I stretch her with a second finger, working them in and out of her before adding a third. Luckily, Amy is no stranger to anal.
Moments later, my phone stops vibrating but starts back up, so I take it out of my back pocket and pause.
Arkin.
