Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
AlluringSinner
Star
- Joined
- Apr 5, 2020
So for this thread, I'll keep it a bit shorter and mainly just list the few prompts I'm craving the most right now. This is my main thread where you can read a bit more about me and see my kinks and more prompts.
I know I am blessed in the looks department. No one ever let me forget it. For as long as I remember, I was constantly being called the 'cute' one. The 'pretty' one that somehow set the standard for others to be compared to. It was the first thing anyone ever saw—and often the onlything. All through my life, I was always the 'pretty' one to my family. My friends were constantly mentioning how jealous they were at this or that. As if every day I woke up as I presented myself; the time it took putting myself together didn't happen. They spoke about it like it was a natural phenomenon. A foregone conclusion. None of the effort and hard work I poured into myself mattered because they only ever saw the finished product. They only cared about the finished product.
Maybe that was the reason why I formed such a close relationship with Colin. I still remember the first thing he ever said to me.
"You smell like coconut. My mom gave me coconut once. I don't like it."
The wonderful mind of a child.
That wasn't the start of our friendship. That came later. I think that was the first time someone had ever referred to something other than my looks. It was always, 'You have such pretty eyes,' or, 'I wish I had hair like yours,' or, 'Aren't you just cute as a button?' Not with Colin. My presence only reminded him of his passionate dislike of coconut.
I never used coconut scented products again.
As I grew older, the comments about my looks were gradually replaced by lingering looks or worse—lingering touches. Everyone seemed to have an excuse to touch me, and eyes tended to wander when they thought I wasn't paying attention. Maybe if I didn't try so hard to look the part, I wouldn't have gotten so much attention. By then, it was a part of me. I was the 'pretty' girl at school and I worked hard to live up to it.
High school was really when my relationship with Colin matured. He was a friend during middle school, but in high school, he stepped up in a big way. My rock, so to speak. Girls joked about how he was my shadow, seen but never heard. To me, he was my goofy sidekick, quick to a smile and always ready to listen. Spending time with him allowed me to feel like myself. I never felt the need to be anything other than... me.
Looking back with the wisdom of age, I hated how stupid I was. The signs were always there. He was my Hercules, my Atlas; carrying all the weight and drama of a popular teenage girl in high school without a single peep. Friendship drama.
Relationship drama. Family drama. I dumped so much on him, taking his presence and kind nature for granted. The way the immature me treated him horrified me. He was always a quiet and introverted boy, but I was constantly forcing him into social situations. I dragged him around like a fashion accessory, telling myself it was for his own good. He'd never have friends of his own unless I dragged him to this party or friend gathering.
Worse, I think I knew he liked me. Maybe not romantically, but as a crush. I thought I was being mature at the time, putting our friendship before all else. Maybe it was a good thing I dated so many other guys. I don't think I would have figured out what I wanted if I didn't have so much experience with what I didn't want. Besides, it wasn't like I was sleeping around or anything like some of our friends. Sure, I experimented. Over the years, I'd given a lot of handjobs. The last two years of high school, I'd graduated to blowjobs. Even then it wasn't like I was giving them out to random guys. Each and every one was with a guy I was in a relationship with... Even if the relationship only lasted a week or so.
Still, I drew a hard line there. Going farther never seemed right. Guys pressed for more. They alwayspressed for more. Number one reason for me dumping a guy was because he wouldn't shut up about it. That alone should have clued me in. Even when I was the one being dumped, I never really felt too broken up over it. Not that I stayed single long. The moment word got out that I was single, I had a line of guys begging me to give me a chance. Certainly didn't help my inflated ego.
Senior year changed everything. I'd been in my longest relationship yet—eight months! A milestone that young and dumb me declared I'd found, 'The One.' He was funny, charming, attractive, and most of all, patient. He never pushed me to do anything I wasn't comfortable with. When he tried to push for more, I told him to wait and that's exactly what he did. Prom came around and I decided that would be the perfect opportunity to take that next step. I had spent weeks building up my resolve. Everything was perfect. The dress, the festive atmosphere, the occasion. The man.
For a lifetime of simple straights, life's first curveball was especially devastating. On the night of my teenage fantasy of the perfect romantic evening, finding out that my loving and patient boyfriend was only patient because he was emptying his balls into my best friend on a regular basis completely blindsided me. Not only that, the asshole had knocked her up. To really kick me when I was down, my entire group of 'friends' had known about it. For months. Devastated didn't even begin to describe the emotional hell that followed. My entire high school life had been a lie. Things spiraled as the truth I'd been willfully ignorant of came out. Guys were only my friend in the hopes of fucking me. Girls were jealous for any one of numerous petty reasons. They had been biding their time, waiting for a single slip. Once it all started to fall apart, they leapt to feed on the corpse, tearing me down any way they could.
On reflection that can only come with time, wisdom, and a lot of pain, I _absolutely _deserved it. Endless praise had made me a stuck-up bitch. I took compliments for granted, never looking deeper into the reasons behind them. All the praise and worship I was showered with had made it feel natural. Like I deserved it for simply gracing others with my presence, and my actions reflected it. My friends were fake because I never offered anything real in return.
Colin was my lifeline. Through it all, he was there. Not once did he judge me or offer me advice. He was the shoulder to cry on. The ear to listen. The solid pillar I clung to as everything I knew fell apart. Like I had done all through high school, I abused my relationship with him. My one and only true friend who stood with me through good and bad. I abused our friendship and worse, I abused the feelings he had for me.
Sleeping with him was one of the greatest regrets of my life. Not that I slept with him, but the reasons behind it. I knew he had a crush on me and I was in a bad place. As if that excused what I did. Desperate to not lose him as I had lost everything else, I gave him what every other guy in my life wanted: me. I figured if I gave him that, he would have no reason to leave me like the others had. Looking back on how I treated him during that time still fills me with guilt and disgust.
Having sex with Colin woke something inside me. A realization that I liked sex. A lot. I guess a silver lining to the disaster that was the final half of my senior year was I made this discovery late, and with someone I would ultimately wake up to realize I loved. Considering my social life and the people I surrounded myself with, discovering the joys and wonder of sex earlier would have set me on a much different and destructive path.
Colin weathered my newfound sexual awakening like he had everything else—stoic acceptance. I wish I could blame it on the emotional turmoil going on in my life at the time, but the simple truth is I was obsessed with sex. Every possible moment I could, I was dragging Colin to bed. Not only was I completely invested in him physically, but as the weeks dragged into months, I put more and more of my emotional and mental well-being on the one person who I felt would always be by my side. After all, he had always been there for me in the past, so why would the future be any different? Our wild romp as friends-with-benefits ended two months after graduation. My parents were out of town for a four-day weekend, so I dragged him over and spent almost the entire time putting him through a gantlet. We burned through the box of condoms by the second day, so we continued without. Not the brightest decision considering I was not on the Pill at the time.
Still, one of the best weekends of my life for reasons other than the copious amount of sex we had. It was the weekend that Colin finally broke down and asked me the question that changed everything.
"What am I to you?"
Poor guy couldn't even look at me when he asked. I think it was the way he was acting that finally conked my dumbass straight. He looked terrified of the answer. Like I would answer how I always did when someone questioned our relationship.
A friend.
Just a friend.
His question made it all click. How I'd been acting. What I'd been doing to him all this time. How absolutely fucking clueless I was. In the moment, I had no idea how to respond to it.
What was Colin to me?
I answered with the only thing that felt right.
"My boyfriend."
———
Looking for this to be a long term story with a variety of characters for this.
The main dynamics I'm thinking would end up being the girlfriend's exposure to sex, after saving herself for a while she now absolutely loves it and wants it so often. But the boyfriend finds he can't quite keep up, so the pair of them have different ideas of how often they do it.
Maybe that was the reason why I formed such a close relationship with Colin. I still remember the first thing he ever said to me.
"You smell like coconut. My mom gave me coconut once. I don't like it."
The wonderful mind of a child.
That wasn't the start of our friendship. That came later. I think that was the first time someone had ever referred to something other than my looks. It was always, 'You have such pretty eyes,' or, 'I wish I had hair like yours,' or, 'Aren't you just cute as a button?' Not with Colin. My presence only reminded him of his passionate dislike of coconut.
I never used coconut scented products again.
As I grew older, the comments about my looks were gradually replaced by lingering looks or worse—lingering touches. Everyone seemed to have an excuse to touch me, and eyes tended to wander when they thought I wasn't paying attention. Maybe if I didn't try so hard to look the part, I wouldn't have gotten so much attention. By then, it was a part of me. I was the 'pretty' girl at school and I worked hard to live up to it.
High school was really when my relationship with Colin matured. He was a friend during middle school, but in high school, he stepped up in a big way. My rock, so to speak. Girls joked about how he was my shadow, seen but never heard. To me, he was my goofy sidekick, quick to a smile and always ready to listen. Spending time with him allowed me to feel like myself. I never felt the need to be anything other than... me.
Looking back with the wisdom of age, I hated how stupid I was. The signs were always there. He was my Hercules, my Atlas; carrying all the weight and drama of a popular teenage girl in high school without a single peep. Friendship drama.
Relationship drama. Family drama. I dumped so much on him, taking his presence and kind nature for granted. The way the immature me treated him horrified me. He was always a quiet and introverted boy, but I was constantly forcing him into social situations. I dragged him around like a fashion accessory, telling myself it was for his own good. He'd never have friends of his own unless I dragged him to this party or friend gathering.
Worse, I think I knew he liked me. Maybe not romantically, but as a crush. I thought I was being mature at the time, putting our friendship before all else. Maybe it was a good thing I dated so many other guys. I don't think I would have figured out what I wanted if I didn't have so much experience with what I didn't want. Besides, it wasn't like I was sleeping around or anything like some of our friends. Sure, I experimented. Over the years, I'd given a lot of handjobs. The last two years of high school, I'd graduated to blowjobs. Even then it wasn't like I was giving them out to random guys. Each and every one was with a guy I was in a relationship with... Even if the relationship only lasted a week or so.
Still, I drew a hard line there. Going farther never seemed right. Guys pressed for more. They alwayspressed for more. Number one reason for me dumping a guy was because he wouldn't shut up about it. That alone should have clued me in. Even when I was the one being dumped, I never really felt too broken up over it. Not that I stayed single long. The moment word got out that I was single, I had a line of guys begging me to give me a chance. Certainly didn't help my inflated ego.
Senior year changed everything. I'd been in my longest relationship yet—eight months! A milestone that young and dumb me declared I'd found, 'The One.' He was funny, charming, attractive, and most of all, patient. He never pushed me to do anything I wasn't comfortable with. When he tried to push for more, I told him to wait and that's exactly what he did. Prom came around and I decided that would be the perfect opportunity to take that next step. I had spent weeks building up my resolve. Everything was perfect. The dress, the festive atmosphere, the occasion. The man.
For a lifetime of simple straights, life's first curveball was especially devastating. On the night of my teenage fantasy of the perfect romantic evening, finding out that my loving and patient boyfriend was only patient because he was emptying his balls into my best friend on a regular basis completely blindsided me. Not only that, the asshole had knocked her up. To really kick me when I was down, my entire group of 'friends' had known about it. For months. Devastated didn't even begin to describe the emotional hell that followed. My entire high school life had been a lie. Things spiraled as the truth I'd been willfully ignorant of came out. Guys were only my friend in the hopes of fucking me. Girls were jealous for any one of numerous petty reasons. They had been biding their time, waiting for a single slip. Once it all started to fall apart, they leapt to feed on the corpse, tearing me down any way they could.
On reflection that can only come with time, wisdom, and a lot of pain, I _absolutely _deserved it. Endless praise had made me a stuck-up bitch. I took compliments for granted, never looking deeper into the reasons behind them. All the praise and worship I was showered with had made it feel natural. Like I deserved it for simply gracing others with my presence, and my actions reflected it. My friends were fake because I never offered anything real in return.
Colin was my lifeline. Through it all, he was there. Not once did he judge me or offer me advice. He was the shoulder to cry on. The ear to listen. The solid pillar I clung to as everything I knew fell apart. Like I had done all through high school, I abused my relationship with him. My one and only true friend who stood with me through good and bad. I abused our friendship and worse, I abused the feelings he had for me.
Sleeping with him was one of the greatest regrets of my life. Not that I slept with him, but the reasons behind it. I knew he had a crush on me and I was in a bad place. As if that excused what I did. Desperate to not lose him as I had lost everything else, I gave him what every other guy in my life wanted: me. I figured if I gave him that, he would have no reason to leave me like the others had. Looking back on how I treated him during that time still fills me with guilt and disgust.
Having sex with Colin woke something inside me. A realization that I liked sex. A lot. I guess a silver lining to the disaster that was the final half of my senior year was I made this discovery late, and with someone I would ultimately wake up to realize I loved. Considering my social life and the people I surrounded myself with, discovering the joys and wonder of sex earlier would have set me on a much different and destructive path.
Colin weathered my newfound sexual awakening like he had everything else—stoic acceptance. I wish I could blame it on the emotional turmoil going on in my life at the time, but the simple truth is I was obsessed with sex. Every possible moment I could, I was dragging Colin to bed. Not only was I completely invested in him physically, but as the weeks dragged into months, I put more and more of my emotional and mental well-being on the one person who I felt would always be by my side. After all, he had always been there for me in the past, so why would the future be any different? Our wild romp as friends-with-benefits ended two months after graduation. My parents were out of town for a four-day weekend, so I dragged him over and spent almost the entire time putting him through a gantlet. We burned through the box of condoms by the second day, so we continued without. Not the brightest decision considering I was not on the Pill at the time.
Still, one of the best weekends of my life for reasons other than the copious amount of sex we had. It was the weekend that Colin finally broke down and asked me the question that changed everything.
"What am I to you?"
Poor guy couldn't even look at me when he asked. I think it was the way he was acting that finally conked my dumbass straight. He looked terrified of the answer. Like I would answer how I always did when someone questioned our relationship.
A friend.
Just a friend.
His question made it all click. How I'd been acting. What I'd been doing to him all this time. How absolutely fucking clueless I was. In the moment, I had no idea how to respond to it.
What was Colin to me?
I answered with the only thing that felt right.
"My boyfriend."
———
Looking for this to be a long term story with a variety of characters for this.
The main dynamics I'm thinking would end up being the girlfriend's exposure to sex, after saving herself for a while she now absolutely loves it and wants it so often. But the boyfriend finds he can't quite keep up, so the pair of them have different ideas of how often they do it.
No one liked sitting near the teachers at lunch—no one except Isaac that is. Normally he would sit by his friends, but senior year was especially unlucky for him and none of them were in the same lunch block he was. His choice of seating afforded him an island free of immediate distraction. Here, he fed his mind as well as the body. Book propped open in front of him, his eyes never stopped moving as He worked to absorb the information inside it while numbly picking at the mediocre food on the tray.
Every day was practically a carbon copy of the one before. It would continue like that for some time considering how much of Isaac's life was already planned for him. The constant studying would pay dividends later on. His dad had connections that would get him into a nearby prestigious college. A well-paying job awaited him after as he would simply start working in the company he started. Theyalready had an agreement about it. He would start at the ground and work his way up—abilities willing. There wasn't an elevator ride to the top waiting, but he wasn't worried. Doors were already open. He only needed to walk through them and eventually he would take over. His brother certainly didn't want it, content with his own path.
His days may have been entirely predictable and even a bit lonely but none of it mattered. Monotony was a small price to pay for stability and peace. Every day was relatively stress-free and he loved it. Too bad life was never that easy. No matter how straightforward the path stretches out in front of you, there are always twists and turns you never see coming.
The sound of a tray hitting the table in front of Isaac broke his bubble. Around him, the noise of conversation washed away my concentration. Blinking, he looked up from the government textbook he was reading through to find a raven-haired beauty settling in across from him. Not only was the interruption unbalancing him, but he recognized the person who did it. Emma Wright wasn't the type of girl whose social circles put them in the same places. Normally she sat with her large group of friends at the far side of the cafeteria. It made no sense why she was here alone. Even if there was some sort of argument or drama going on, she had a dozen other acquaintances she could sit with. Moreover, it seemed like she was looking expressly at Isaac like she had sought him out specifically.
"Isaac, right?"
Silence was his response as his mind was slow to remember how to speak. It had nothing to do with any social anxiety, but more from the intense concentration he had been giving the studies. He needed a moment to shift gears.
Her eyebrow quirked at the long silence. Isaac cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah."
She flashed him a dazzling smile. He could understand why she was so popular. Depending on who you asked, she was one of the hottest girls in school. Usually top ten. Then again, his dataset was somewhat limited. Isaacs handful of friends weren't exactly the definitive voice of the school and he didn't speak much to people outside of that small group.
"Rumor has it you were the only one to get a perfect score on Mr. Adams' physics test."
"I did get a perfect score, but I doubt I was the only one."
"You sit here all by yourself?" The swerve in conversation took me by surprise.
"It's easier to study."
"What about friends?"
"They are in the other periods."
"That sucks."
Isaac shrugged and said nothing more. It was still an enigma why she was here and not with her friends. He was already on guard in case this was some kind of elaborate prank. There were a few people who liked to throw their weight around and 'have some fun' with some less fortunate people. The bullying wasn't too severe at this school, but it wasn't something he'd enjoy one bit. He managed to get this far without attracting any attention and this whole situation was putting him on the radar. Emma was the type of girl who had eyes following her no matter where she was.
The rumors did too. Even Isaac, with barely any social interaction outside my friends, had heard the whispers about how she was an absolute slut. Rumors varied from something as benign as having an above-average amount of sexual partners to wild, and often unbelievable, stories involving gangbangs, trains, and orgies.
"I'm guessing you're curious why I'm here."
"The thought did cross my mind."
"You are pretty good at studying, right?"
"Is a fish good at swimming?"
"What?" She had a clueless expression on her face. Not in the sense that she didn't understand what he said, but stupefied that he had said it.
Isaac waved his hand for her to forget what he said. "I suppose."
"Well, I was hoping to find a study buddy to help me out."
Frowning, he glanced around. It seemed like she was serious and he couldn't see anyone overtly watching them. "Are you in danger of failing or something?"
She gave a light laugh that made him uncomfortable. It made him realize how lacking his interaction with the opposite sex was. "Hardly. I'm a solid B student."
"And why do you need help studying?"
Her head tilted slightly. "Is there anything wrong with wanting to boost my grades up a bit?"
That was certainly something they could both agree on. "Not at all. I'm surprised you are asking me and not one of your friends."
"Ah," she said with a nod. "Yeah, I've tried. The problem with studying with friends is how easy it is to get distracted. I don't know anyone who takes studying as seriously as you do, so I'm hoping some of that study power rubs off on me."
"I don't think it works that way."
She laughed again. "I know, but I figure if I want to improve my grades, I should go with the master of academics himself. I hear you are top of the class or something."
Uncomfortable with the praise, Isaac scratched at his cheek. "So what are you proposing?"
"How often do you study after school?"
"Every day."
A chuckle as she shook her head. "I should have seen that coming. Okay, so maybe we can meet a few times after school to go over things?"
He took a moment to mentally step back and look over the situation. Emma seemed noble in her purpose. He was still unsure why she was asking him, but it wouldn't be too disruptive to his routine. Actually, it might be helpful. He heard that the process of teaching someone helped garner a deeper understanding of the material as well.
He nodded. "If you want."
"Great!" she said with another big smile. It was a little alarming how his body reacted to something as simple as a smile. "Here, I'll add you on Snap."
"I don't have that." She seemed surprised at that. He could see why people were interested in social media, but wasn't one to join in. The closest thing he had was Discord which his friends and him used to share all sorts of memes and information with each other.
She named a few other social media apps and he found himself shaking his head to each one. "Okay, just a phone number then."
He said nothing as they exchanged numbers. His phone buzzed as a message popped up. Opening it, he read that she was looking forward to studying with him. Saying our goodbyes, she collected her lunch and walked off.
As Isaac tried to get his mindset back into studying, he didn't think too much of his new relationship with Emma. He figured she'd show up a few times at the library before getting bored and drifting back out of his life. That's how it usually worked with the popular kids anyways, and he expected Emma to be no different.
———
This can go a lot of different ways but I think a lead female character that will delve into a lot of things and have a variety of males around with main focus on the poor nerd.
I think she could mess around with a lot of her friend group and even his.
Motivations can vary as I think she's still going to be getting dick from whatever guy she wants and fucked far better than Isaac and his friends could probably do.
I think she'll enjoy toying and teasing him, plus the benefits of him teaching her and doing some of her work
I think she'll be a bit messed up and devious, enjoying being a slut while also enjoying the games she plays with Isaac.
And I think a big part early on would them be texting, her giving him rewards for helping her study, with homework, etc.
It would be images that keep ramping up in scale, her hot pics while clothes, to nudes, to her doing sexual things with guys.
I think it can be a pretty messed up story. They both enjoy each other's friendship but she also enjoys how much he will develop and care about her along with enjoying that she can be a slut.
While he will be the same and perhaps finds out he has a kink of seeing her get fucked by other guys…. After awhile since it would make for some fun drama for him to be jealous for a while
Every day was practically a carbon copy of the one before. It would continue like that for some time considering how much of Isaac's life was already planned for him. The constant studying would pay dividends later on. His dad had connections that would get him into a nearby prestigious college. A well-paying job awaited him after as he would simply start working in the company he started. Theyalready had an agreement about it. He would start at the ground and work his way up—abilities willing. There wasn't an elevator ride to the top waiting, but he wasn't worried. Doors were already open. He only needed to walk through them and eventually he would take over. His brother certainly didn't want it, content with his own path.
His days may have been entirely predictable and even a bit lonely but none of it mattered. Monotony was a small price to pay for stability and peace. Every day was relatively stress-free and he loved it. Too bad life was never that easy. No matter how straightforward the path stretches out in front of you, there are always twists and turns you never see coming.
The sound of a tray hitting the table in front of Isaac broke his bubble. Around him, the noise of conversation washed away my concentration. Blinking, he looked up from the government textbook he was reading through to find a raven-haired beauty settling in across from him. Not only was the interruption unbalancing him, but he recognized the person who did it. Emma Wright wasn't the type of girl whose social circles put them in the same places. Normally she sat with her large group of friends at the far side of the cafeteria. It made no sense why she was here alone. Even if there was some sort of argument or drama going on, she had a dozen other acquaintances she could sit with. Moreover, it seemed like she was looking expressly at Isaac like she had sought him out specifically.
"Isaac, right?"
Silence was his response as his mind was slow to remember how to speak. It had nothing to do with any social anxiety, but more from the intense concentration he had been giving the studies. He needed a moment to shift gears.
Her eyebrow quirked at the long silence. Isaac cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah."
She flashed him a dazzling smile. He could understand why she was so popular. Depending on who you asked, she was one of the hottest girls in school. Usually top ten. Then again, his dataset was somewhat limited. Isaacs handful of friends weren't exactly the definitive voice of the school and he didn't speak much to people outside of that small group.
"Rumor has it you were the only one to get a perfect score on Mr. Adams' physics test."
"I did get a perfect score, but I doubt I was the only one."
"You sit here all by yourself?" The swerve in conversation took me by surprise.
"It's easier to study."
"What about friends?"
"They are in the other periods."
"That sucks."
Isaac shrugged and said nothing more. It was still an enigma why she was here and not with her friends. He was already on guard in case this was some kind of elaborate prank. There were a few people who liked to throw their weight around and 'have some fun' with some less fortunate people. The bullying wasn't too severe at this school, but it wasn't something he'd enjoy one bit. He managed to get this far without attracting any attention and this whole situation was putting him on the radar. Emma was the type of girl who had eyes following her no matter where she was.
The rumors did too. Even Isaac, with barely any social interaction outside my friends, had heard the whispers about how she was an absolute slut. Rumors varied from something as benign as having an above-average amount of sexual partners to wild, and often unbelievable, stories involving gangbangs, trains, and orgies.
"I'm guessing you're curious why I'm here."
"The thought did cross my mind."
"You are pretty good at studying, right?"
"Is a fish good at swimming?"
"What?" She had a clueless expression on her face. Not in the sense that she didn't understand what he said, but stupefied that he had said it.
Isaac waved his hand for her to forget what he said. "I suppose."
"Well, I was hoping to find a study buddy to help me out."
Frowning, he glanced around. It seemed like she was serious and he couldn't see anyone overtly watching them. "Are you in danger of failing or something?"
She gave a light laugh that made him uncomfortable. It made him realize how lacking his interaction with the opposite sex was. "Hardly. I'm a solid B student."
"And why do you need help studying?"
Her head tilted slightly. "Is there anything wrong with wanting to boost my grades up a bit?"
That was certainly something they could both agree on. "Not at all. I'm surprised you are asking me and not one of your friends."
"Ah," she said with a nod. "Yeah, I've tried. The problem with studying with friends is how easy it is to get distracted. I don't know anyone who takes studying as seriously as you do, so I'm hoping some of that study power rubs off on me."
"I don't think it works that way."
She laughed again. "I know, but I figure if I want to improve my grades, I should go with the master of academics himself. I hear you are top of the class or something."
Uncomfortable with the praise, Isaac scratched at his cheek. "So what are you proposing?"
"How often do you study after school?"
"Every day."
A chuckle as she shook her head. "I should have seen that coming. Okay, so maybe we can meet a few times after school to go over things?"
He took a moment to mentally step back and look over the situation. Emma seemed noble in her purpose. He was still unsure why she was asking him, but it wouldn't be too disruptive to his routine. Actually, it might be helpful. He heard that the process of teaching someone helped garner a deeper understanding of the material as well.
He nodded. "If you want."
"Great!" she said with another big smile. It was a little alarming how his body reacted to something as simple as a smile. "Here, I'll add you on Snap."
"I don't have that." She seemed surprised at that. He could see why people were interested in social media, but wasn't one to join in. The closest thing he had was Discord which his friends and him used to share all sorts of memes and information with each other.
She named a few other social media apps and he found himself shaking his head to each one. "Okay, just a phone number then."
He said nothing as they exchanged numbers. His phone buzzed as a message popped up. Opening it, he read that she was looking forward to studying with him. Saying our goodbyes, she collected her lunch and walked off.
As Isaac tried to get his mindset back into studying, he didn't think too much of his new relationship with Emma. He figured she'd show up a few times at the library before getting bored and drifting back out of his life. That's how it usually worked with the popular kids anyways, and he expected Emma to be no different.
———
This can go a lot of different ways but I think a lead female character that will delve into a lot of things and have a variety of males around with main focus on the poor nerd.
I think she could mess around with a lot of her friend group and even his.
Motivations can vary as I think she's still going to be getting dick from whatever guy she wants and fucked far better than Isaac and his friends could probably do.
I think she'll enjoy toying and teasing him, plus the benefits of him teaching her and doing some of her work
I think she'll be a bit messed up and devious, enjoying being a slut while also enjoying the games she plays with Isaac.
And I think a big part early on would them be texting, her giving him rewards for helping her study, with homework, etc.
It would be images that keep ramping up in scale, her hot pics while clothes, to nudes, to her doing sexual things with guys.
I think it can be a pretty messed up story. They both enjoy each other's friendship but she also enjoys how much he will develop and care about her along with enjoying that she can be a slut.
While he will be the same and perhaps finds out he has a kink of seeing her get fucked by other guys…. After awhile since it would make for some fun drama for him to be jealous for a while
My boyfriend's alpha "best friend"
My boyfriend turns his typically placid expression toward his feet, but he's not avoiding my gaze out of child-like shame but equally child-like irritation that I'm even upset. His weak shoulders lift in a mild shrug, accompanied by an infuriating what's-the-big-deal sigh with a hint of get-off-my-back, as if I'm the bad guy in this situation.
"It's a big house, babe," says Jake, already pulling out his phone so he has something else to look at besides his girlfriend. "You'll probably never even have to be in the same room as him. Besides, you invited Brittany, and you know I don't like her."
"You don't like her because she didn't know who John De Lancie was," I fire back, arms crossed across my chest. "I don't like Cameron because he's a… a… "
Asshole. Bully. Womanizer. A few hundred more names spring to mind, but I don't like to swear and all of them heavily involve cursing.
"Jerk!" I finish, a little weaker than I intended.
"He's been my best friend for like, forever. And if I didn't invite him, he'd give me shit," protests Jake, starting to fidget. "Can you just be cool?"
Oh, I hate that phrase. It's what Cameron says whenever someone takes offence to his behaviour. I once saw Cameron pants Jake at a frat party in front of everyone, then proceed to make fun of his flaccid penis while comparing it unfavourably to his own. Somehow, they were buddy-buddy about an hour later. Such is the power of 'be cool', but it's never worked on m e.
"Oh, so you're 'cool' with the way he treats me?"
Jake puts away his phone. "He's just a flirt. It doesn't mean anything when he gets a little frisky, okay? Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you out of everyone else?"
If I could spit poison in my boyfriend's face, I would. Jake doesn't even seem to realize what he's said; he thinks it should make me feel better, and oh boy, it sure as heck doesn't. It's one more example of Jake taking me for granted, which he's been doing a lot recently. We've been together for nearly two years and somewhere along the line, he started to get confident that I'll put up with anything.
Maybe that's Cameron's influence, since I've yet to slap him across his aggravatingly chiselled jaw for the numerous instances of him trying to flirt heavily with me, brushing against my breasts whenever he passes me in a narrow hall, or even the time when he full-on grabbed my ass. At first I thought it was Jake, and was pleasantly surprised that he was capable of such an open display of passion, not to mention the intense strength felt in his rough, eager grasp. When I turned around and saw that cocksure smirk, I very nearly did slap him. I'd started to pull my hand back when Jake stepped in between us. Cameron didn't even bother to lie convincingly, acting like he thought I was his girlfriend from behind. Jake accepted the explanation. I didn't, and with the way Cameron looked at me, I don't think he expected me to.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But he's already invited. It would be rude to disinvite him now," whines Jake. "And he's my best friend."
"Yeah? Well, you're not his. He's a bully, Jake, always has been," I say. "You're not his friend, you're his victim."
"That's not true. And it's done now, so can we just try to enjoy the lake? Please? I don't want to fight all over the break," says Jake, and there's enough of a plea in his voice that I just can't summon the energy to keep the argument going. It's too exhausting, and I suppose it's done. Maybe we can just do what we planned, and having Cameron along won't hurt. Jake's kind of right about Cameron being able to have any girl he wants, with that jawline, those mesmerising eyes brimming with confidence, the well-sculpted washboard abs he never hesitates to show off, the ample bulge in his -
Anyway, point is, he pretty much can have any woman he wants and with the number of sorority girls there he'll probably be too distracted to torment me too much.
I clear my throat, throw up my hands up and head out of Jake's dorm room. I walk across the hall into the kitchen, where the bags sit on the table with just a few more things to pack. I need to focus on just relaxing this week after the stress of finals. The house by the lake is beautiful as well as massive, isolated but with the kind of gorgeous scenery you mostly only see in movies. I've invited my classmates, friends and siblings, and Jake has done the same. They've all invited their friends too, and Cameron will probably have his cronies along too, so it'll be packed to the brim with college students partying their brains out. Not being a big drinker, I'm looking forward to lounging in the lake. The thought of it manages to bring a smile to my face.
"You can be real loud, hot stuff."
My smile falls from my face quicker than I'd throw a live grenade. I turn, and Cameron is in the doorway with that arrogant smirk which twists into me like a hot knife, making my stomach bubble. He's more than good-looking, he's devastatingly handsome. When I first met Cameron, I'd been taken aback by his striking features, incredible body and that swaggering, sensual confidence he exudes. Of course, that was before I got to know him.
Maybe Jake would be more reluctant to bring Cameron along if he knew that I still found him attractive. Maybe if he knew that, against my better judgment, Cameron has been creeping into my dreams lately and making me wetter than the lake we're going to. Maybe if he knew that I stare at the ceiling, wide-eyed, as Cameron has vigorous sex with a girl in the dorm above me, the sounds filling me with a curious heat that sends my fingers gliding down my body, eventually rocking me to the kind of intense orgasm Jake has never pulled out of me, all while I listen to moans, springs, the headboard thudding and the crumbling flecks of ceiling which rain down. I've never had that kind of sex with Jake.
I try not to think about it as I focus on Cameron with narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Little rough on Jake, weren't you? Shouting at him like that. Heard the whole thing," says Cameron, his tone tinged with amusement as he swaggers on into the kitchen, coming to stand right next to me. Towering over me. Almost looming. "Look, I know Jake was a bad boy, but there are easier ways to resolve arguments. Maybe you should have given him a spanking."
I roll my eyes and scoff, but Cameron's smile doesn't dim. "Or maybe you're the one who needs a spanking. Might loosen that stick up your ass. It is a stick, right? Or are you kinkier than you act?" Pink shades my cheeks, my breath growing shallow. I shove the last items into the bag, hoist it up over my shoulder and move to push my way past Cameron… only for him to grab my ass, again, and without Jake here I don't hesitate to turn and slap -
But Cameron catches my wrist in his hand before my palm makes contact. He holds me there, our gazes locked together, his hand rough against my soft skin. When he releases me, I let my hand drop… and in a moment of sudden, fiery impulse I reach between his legs and grab his crotch in a firm squeeze. He grows tense for a moment, and a smile touches the corner of my lips. Within my grasp, I can feel his large member pulse with interest… and then I release him. "Should make us even. Asshole."
I'm still thinking about the feeling of his tool in my hand as I pack up the car.
----
So what will happen when we reach the lake? With all those people, all those rooms? Well, obviously I'm going to cheat on my wimpy boyfriend with a real man. So how does that happen?
* Jake does something to infuriate me into finally giving Cameron what he so eagerly desires.
* A game of Spin-the-Bottle leads to me kissing Cameron passionately in front of everyone, and later that night, I find myself alone with Cameron. Alone, and unable to stop thinking about the kiss.
* A dubcon situation where Cameron corners me, and once he starts touching me with intent I can't resist for too long.
* I see Cameron naked (accident on my part, purposeful on his) and can't stop thinking about what I saw on display. One thing leads to another after Jake passes out from drinking later that night...
I'm open to brainstorming too!
My boyfriend turns his typically placid expression toward his feet, but he's not avoiding my gaze out of child-like shame but equally child-like irritation that I'm even upset. His weak shoulders lift in a mild shrug, accompanied by an infuriating what's-the-big-deal sigh with a hint of get-off-my-back, as if I'm the bad guy in this situation.
"It's a big house, babe," says Jake, already pulling out his phone so he has something else to look at besides his girlfriend. "You'll probably never even have to be in the same room as him. Besides, you invited Brittany, and you know I don't like her."
"You don't like her because she didn't know who John De Lancie was," I fire back, arms crossed across my chest. "I don't like Cameron because he's a… a… "
Asshole. Bully. Womanizer. A few hundred more names spring to mind, but I don't like to swear and all of them heavily involve cursing.
"Jerk!" I finish, a little weaker than I intended.
"He's been my best friend for like, forever. And if I didn't invite him, he'd give me shit," protests Jake, starting to fidget. "Can you just be cool?"
Oh, I hate that phrase. It's what Cameron says whenever someone takes offence to his behaviour. I once saw Cameron pants Jake at a frat party in front of everyone, then proceed to make fun of his flaccid penis while comparing it unfavourably to his own. Somehow, they were buddy-buddy about an hour later. Such is the power of 'be cool', but it's never worked on m e.
"Oh, so you're 'cool' with the way he treats me?"
Jake puts away his phone. "He's just a flirt. It doesn't mean anything when he gets a little frisky, okay? Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you out of everyone else?"
If I could spit poison in my boyfriend's face, I would. Jake doesn't even seem to realize what he's said; he thinks it should make me feel better, and oh boy, it sure as heck doesn't. It's one more example of Jake taking me for granted, which he's been doing a lot recently. We've been together for nearly two years and somewhere along the line, he started to get confident that I'll put up with anything.
Maybe that's Cameron's influence, since I've yet to slap him across his aggravatingly chiselled jaw for the numerous instances of him trying to flirt heavily with me, brushing against my breasts whenever he passes me in a narrow hall, or even the time when he full-on grabbed my ass. At first I thought it was Jake, and was pleasantly surprised that he was capable of such an open display of passion, not to mention the intense strength felt in his rough, eager grasp. When I turned around and saw that cocksure smirk, I very nearly did slap him. I'd started to pull my hand back when Jake stepped in between us. Cameron didn't even bother to lie convincingly, acting like he thought I was his girlfriend from behind. Jake accepted the explanation. I didn't, and with the way Cameron looked at me, I don't think he expected me to.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But he's already invited. It would be rude to disinvite him now," whines Jake. "And he's my best friend."
"Yeah? Well, you're not his. He's a bully, Jake, always has been," I say. "You're not his friend, you're his victim."
"That's not true. And it's done now, so can we just try to enjoy the lake? Please? I don't want to fight all over the break," says Jake, and there's enough of a plea in his voice that I just can't summon the energy to keep the argument going. It's too exhausting, and I suppose it's done. Maybe we can just do what we planned, and having Cameron along won't hurt. Jake's kind of right about Cameron being able to have any girl he wants, with that jawline, those mesmerising eyes brimming with confidence, the well-sculpted washboard abs he never hesitates to show off, the ample bulge in his -
Anyway, point is, he pretty much can have any woman he wants and with the number of sorority girls there he'll probably be too distracted to torment me too much.
I clear my throat, throw up my hands up and head out of Jake's dorm room. I walk across the hall into the kitchen, where the bags sit on the table with just a few more things to pack. I need to focus on just relaxing this week after the stress of finals. The house by the lake is beautiful as well as massive, isolated but with the kind of gorgeous scenery you mostly only see in movies. I've invited my classmates, friends and siblings, and Jake has done the same. They've all invited their friends too, and Cameron will probably have his cronies along too, so it'll be packed to the brim with college students partying their brains out. Not being a big drinker, I'm looking forward to lounging in the lake. The thought of it manages to bring a smile to my face.
"You can be real loud, hot stuff."
My smile falls from my face quicker than I'd throw a live grenade. I turn, and Cameron is in the doorway with that arrogant smirk which twists into me like a hot knife, making my stomach bubble. He's more than good-looking, he's devastatingly handsome. When I first met Cameron, I'd been taken aback by his striking features, incredible body and that swaggering, sensual confidence he exudes. Of course, that was before I got to know him.
Maybe Jake would be more reluctant to bring Cameron along if he knew that I still found him attractive. Maybe if he knew that, against my better judgment, Cameron has been creeping into my dreams lately and making me wetter than the lake we're going to. Maybe if he knew that I stare at the ceiling, wide-eyed, as Cameron has vigorous sex with a girl in the dorm above me, the sounds filling me with a curious heat that sends my fingers gliding down my body, eventually rocking me to the kind of intense orgasm Jake has never pulled out of me, all while I listen to moans, springs, the headboard thudding and the crumbling flecks of ceiling which rain down. I've never had that kind of sex with Jake.
I try not to think about it as I focus on Cameron with narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Little rough on Jake, weren't you? Shouting at him like that. Heard the whole thing," says Cameron, his tone tinged with amusement as he swaggers on into the kitchen, coming to stand right next to me. Towering over me. Almost looming. "Look, I know Jake was a bad boy, but there are easier ways to resolve arguments. Maybe you should have given him a spanking."
I roll my eyes and scoff, but Cameron's smile doesn't dim. "Or maybe you're the one who needs a spanking. Might loosen that stick up your ass. It is a stick, right? Or are you kinkier than you act?" Pink shades my cheeks, my breath growing shallow. I shove the last items into the bag, hoist it up over my shoulder and move to push my way past Cameron… only for him to grab my ass, again, and without Jake here I don't hesitate to turn and slap -
But Cameron catches my wrist in his hand before my palm makes contact. He holds me there, our gazes locked together, his hand rough against my soft skin. When he releases me, I let my hand drop… and in a moment of sudden, fiery impulse I reach between his legs and grab his crotch in a firm squeeze. He grows tense for a moment, and a smile touches the corner of my lips. Within my grasp, I can feel his large member pulse with interest… and then I release him. "Should make us even. Asshole."
I'm still thinking about the feeling of his tool in my hand as I pack up the car.
----
So what will happen when we reach the lake? With all those people, all those rooms? Well, obviously I'm going to cheat on my wimpy boyfriend with a real man. So how does that happen?
* Jake does something to infuriate me into finally giving Cameron what he so eagerly desires.
* A game of Spin-the-Bottle leads to me kissing Cameron passionately in front of everyone, and later that night, I find myself alone with Cameron. Alone, and unable to stop thinking about the kiss.
* A dubcon situation where Cameron corners me, and once he starts touching me with intent I can't resist for too long.
* I see Cameron naked (accident on my part, purposeful on his) and can't stop thinking about what I saw on display. One thing leads to another after Jake passes out from drinking later that night...
I'm open to brainstorming too!
No longer just 'one of the guys'
Growing up I was always just one of the guys. We were fast friends since… well as early as either of us can remember. We grew up playing Pokémon and Warhammer, got midnight tickets to see the first Avengers movie, and generally goofed around like a couple of happy nerds. Over time, we carved out a small cliche (all boys, save myself) with the same nerdy enthusiasm.Things stayed this way all the way through graduation. We had our ups and downs, dramas and secret crushes, but overall we were a happy, caring bunch of misfits.
Now we're all firmly over 18, taking the summer to decide on what lies next for use. Most plan to keep studying. Others want to learn a trade. Some still have no idea whatsoever. One day, someone suggested we go to the beach. Not out usual hangout, but everyone seems keen to try something different, and doing my best to hide my nerves, I agree to come along.
See, I've been hiding a little bit of a secret. All the years you had known me, you had never seen me in anything but my trademark baggy graphic t shirt and some kind of loose pants. There's a reason for that; I've developed quite the…. ample figure. One i had gone to great length to hide, lest this tomboy stop being just 'one of the guys.' But, well, now you see me. All of my. My tits and arse barely contained by my red bikini and jiggling as we splash around in the waves. You'll deny it, even to yourselves, but there's no denying that the relationship has changed. You practically take turns eyeballing me, soaking in as much of my body as you think you can get away with. Once we've all returned to our respective homes for the day, we keep chatting. The group chat is the usual friendly banter, but as the night progresses each and everyone of the boys tries to slide into my DM's. And they're sure as hell not talking about Star Wars.
So, what happens next?
Do I fall for one of you? Do you compete for my affections? To you all talk me into letting you run a train on me? Am I still 'one of the guys' but now with my tits perpetually out? ("Last one downed in zombies gets his dick sucked by Maddie")
Growing up I was always just one of the guys. We were fast friends since… well as early as either of us can remember. We grew up playing Pokémon and Warhammer, got midnight tickets to see the first Avengers movie, and generally goofed around like a couple of happy nerds. Over time, we carved out a small cliche (all boys, save myself) with the same nerdy enthusiasm.Things stayed this way all the way through graduation. We had our ups and downs, dramas and secret crushes, but overall we were a happy, caring bunch of misfits.
Now we're all firmly over 18, taking the summer to decide on what lies next for use. Most plan to keep studying. Others want to learn a trade. Some still have no idea whatsoever. One day, someone suggested we go to the beach. Not out usual hangout, but everyone seems keen to try something different, and doing my best to hide my nerves, I agree to come along.
See, I've been hiding a little bit of a secret. All the years you had known me, you had never seen me in anything but my trademark baggy graphic t shirt and some kind of loose pants. There's a reason for that; I've developed quite the…. ample figure. One i had gone to great length to hide, lest this tomboy stop being just 'one of the guys.' But, well, now you see me. All of my. My tits and arse barely contained by my red bikini and jiggling as we splash around in the waves. You'll deny it, even to yourselves, but there's no denying that the relationship has changed. You practically take turns eyeballing me, soaking in as much of my body as you think you can get away with. Once we've all returned to our respective homes for the day, we keep chatting. The group chat is the usual friendly banter, but as the night progresses each and everyone of the boys tries to slide into my DM's. And they're sure as hell not talking about Star Wars.
So, what happens next?
Do I fall for one of you? Do you compete for my affections? To you all talk me into letting you run a train on me? Am I still 'one of the guys' but now with my tits perpetually out? ("Last one downed in zombies gets his dick sucked by Maddie")
Scott had short dark brown hair, angular brows and a bit of a rounded jaw, while a little overweight, he looked good in a suit. Not particularly tall, and all together he had a sweet and sensitive gaze. He had been looking forward to tonight for the last couple of months. Sydney and Scott worked wildly different schedules that made it difficult to line up their days off without either of them using their vacation time. While he didn't like the situation Scott did love Sydney dearly as she did him. Sydney worked for a pharmaceutical outfit in Vermont and as such she was constantly on the move, traveling, sometimes to neighboring states. She was recently promoted and now her job was taking up even more time so tonight's date was a big deal for her as well.
"Hello, my name is Sally and I'll be your waitress this evening. Is there anything I can start you two with?" Sally asked, her gaze shifting between Scottand Sydney.
"I'll have a Riesling please." Sydney requested.
"Sure, and you sir?" Sally asked.
"Merlot, please." Scott smiled.
"Great! I'll be right back with your drinks!" The waitress said before departing.
"So how's work been going honey?" Scott asked.
"It's okay." Sydney sighed. "I just a have a huge week of meetings coming up and since we got bought out last month, management has been on us all about making our sales." She shook her head. "I'm ready for our vacation."
"Ugh." Scott made a face. "Well I think..."
"Here are your drinks. A Riesling for the lady." Sally said cutting off Scott's thoughts. "...and for the gentleman, his Merlot." Their waitress deposited the drinks before her guests. "Would you like me to give you more time?" She asked.
"Oh, uh, yes please." Scott smiled pleasantly.
"Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes." Sally returned the smile before darting off.
"What was I saying?" Scott asked as he sipped his wine.
"Um..." Sydney began as she too took a pull on her glass.
"Sydney?!" A gravelly voice called out. "Oh my god! Sydney!"
Sydney's eyes lit up and grew wide as she straightened in her seat, peering around the restaurant for the source of her name. No one was looking their direction at the bar or by the windows. It wasn't until he came from around the restaurant's small arboretum, a series of palms and fronds, sitting near the entrance that Sydney's lips curled into a wide grin.
"Oh?" Scott was curious too and had attempted a half turn to trace the voice but couldn't see its hidden source from his seat.
"Lance?!" Sydney shouted as she jumped up from her seat.
She looked so beautiful, Scott thought. Sydneywas a little taller than Scott and the way her body moved in that sparkling red gown set more than his heart ablaze. Bright blues eyes scrunched as she smiled broadly, her straight shoulder-length auburn locks floated behind her as she bound and hopped into Lance's arms. He was tall and looked as if he might tear his suit apart should he decided to flex in even the slightest of ways. He easily caught Sydney in his powerful arms as she wrapped her own around him. What made Scott uncomfortable was that Sydney had also wrapped her legs around this stranger who had now just slipped his hands down over her butt.
"You look great!" Sydney began as leaned back to look into Lance's eyes.
"So do you! Seriously, Sydney. Wow." Lancegrinned before setting her back down and giving her long look over.
'Okay will you two please stop holding each other now?' Scott thought to himself as she shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He took a sip of his wine as he regarded his girlfriend's reaction to this stranger whom she clearly had a deeper relationship with than the term 'stranger' would imply, but as he didn't know anything about this guy, Scott found himself beginning to experience a pang of jealousy for the first time since he and Sydney started dating.
"Oh my god, Lance!" Sydney half bent and slapped her thighs with a giggle. "What are you doing here?"
Scott attempted to clear his throat and when that didn't seem to catch their attention he took another sip of his wine, shifting uneasily in his seat.
"Business." Lance shrugged and made a face. "What about you? What have you been up to?" He asked.
"Not a whole. I'm just here with Scott." She nodded back to her boyfriend who was again taking another sip of wine. "Come! You should join us!" Sydney took hold of Lance's giant paw and pulled him back the table, much to Scott's chagrin. "Scott, this is Lance. He's an old friend of mine. Lance, Scott. "
"Nice to meet you." Lancerumbled as he offered his hand to Scott.
"Likewise." Scott responded weakly as he accepted Luke's hand, looking up at the giant of a man, made all the worse by his seated position.
"Listen, I'm all for catching up, but do you mind if we do this at a booth?" Lance asked as he held his arm up, catching the attention of their waitress.
"Yes, sir? What can I do for you?" Sally asked with a warm smile. Scott noticed Sally's interest in Lance as he caught her checking him out.
"Tell me you have a booth for us." Lance indicated Sydney, and Scottwith a wave of his hand and that damnably charming smile.
"Oh yeah. Right this way!" She beamed.
The trio followed their waitress to their new table, a booth in a far corner. Scott took his seat opposite Lance, but Sydney plopped herself in right next to her friend. She was closer than Scott cared for but he was still processing the initial interruption. He felt flush but chalked that up to the wine.
"I'll give you guys a little more time to order. However can I get you something? Anything at all, sir?" Sally asked with a glaze in her eyes.
"Yes, a scotch, clean please." Lance said as he leaned back in the booth.
"It's so nice to see you! So how have you been!?" Sydney asked as she leaned into Lance's shoulder.
"I've been doing well. I have my own brokerage firm now and we just purchased a pharmaceutical lab." Lancerevealed.
"A pharma...? Wait..." Sydney's brow cocked up. "Did you buy PharMont?"
"How did you know?" Lance asked.
"I fucking work for them!" Sydney shouted with a laugh.
"Get out." Lance blurted.
"Yes, go. Leave, damn it. What is even going on here?" Scott thought to himself. He couldn't even believe what he was hearing. He had had plans for tonight and now that was all out the door, so he again returned to his wine.
"Your, you bought PharMont?" Sydney asked again.
"Yes. There's good money to be made and PharMont looks profitable. Now that I know you're on the team, I can understand why." Lanceshared.
"Here's your drink, sir." Sally said as she set his scotch down.
"Can I get a ref-..." Scott began but Sally was already gone.
"Oh wow. I can't believe it." Sydney laughed.
"Yeah who would've thought I'd buy some pharmaceutical business and you'd be working there?" Lance laughed as he sipped his drink. "Pardon me, Sydney, but I have to hit the head." Lance said.
"Oh, sorry!" Sydney smiled as she wiggled out of his way to let him out of the booth.
"Thanks. I'll be back." Lance announced unnecessarily.
"Okay who the hell is he?" Scott asked once Lance was out of earshot.
"Who? Lance?" Sydney asked. "He's just a friend from school." She shrugged.
"He must be one hell of a friend since you've never mentioned once." Scott stated.
"Oh stop it, honey." Sydney said. "You're being silly."
Scott didn't think so but Lance's return stifled that branch of conversation rather effectively. Eventually the trio would order their dinner, while Sydney and Lance seemed to be enjoying the company of one another, Scott made due with his bottle of wine. The night he had been looking forward to all month long was not going how ad he hoped. While he could not have foreseen such an interruption like this he was still feeling defeated.
———-
Alright, leaving this a bit open ended with how I'd like to take this but I'd like to play out the concerns the boyfriend might have, the insecurities and jealousy he may have along with perhaps the arousal and hotness that he finds. Whether we want something to genuinely be going on behind the boyfriends back or not.
The background and set up can be different as well, down for adjustments.
"Hello, my name is Sally and I'll be your waitress this evening. Is there anything I can start you two with?" Sally asked, her gaze shifting between Scottand Sydney.
"I'll have a Riesling please." Sydney requested.
"Sure, and you sir?" Sally asked.
"Merlot, please." Scott smiled.
"Great! I'll be right back with your drinks!" The waitress said before departing.
"So how's work been going honey?" Scott asked.
"It's okay." Sydney sighed. "I just a have a huge week of meetings coming up and since we got bought out last month, management has been on us all about making our sales." She shook her head. "I'm ready for our vacation."
"Ugh." Scott made a face. "Well I think..."
"Here are your drinks. A Riesling for the lady." Sally said cutting off Scott's thoughts. "...and for the gentleman, his Merlot." Their waitress deposited the drinks before her guests. "Would you like me to give you more time?" She asked.
"Oh, uh, yes please." Scott smiled pleasantly.
"Okay, I'll be back in a few minutes." Sally returned the smile before darting off.
"What was I saying?" Scott asked as he sipped his wine.
"Um..." Sydney began as she too took a pull on her glass.
"Sydney?!" A gravelly voice called out. "Oh my god! Sydney!"
Sydney's eyes lit up and grew wide as she straightened in her seat, peering around the restaurant for the source of her name. No one was looking their direction at the bar or by the windows. It wasn't until he came from around the restaurant's small arboretum, a series of palms and fronds, sitting near the entrance that Sydney's lips curled into a wide grin.
"Oh?" Scott was curious too and had attempted a half turn to trace the voice but couldn't see its hidden source from his seat.
"Lance?!" Sydney shouted as she jumped up from her seat.
She looked so beautiful, Scott thought. Sydneywas a little taller than Scott and the way her body moved in that sparkling red gown set more than his heart ablaze. Bright blues eyes scrunched as she smiled broadly, her straight shoulder-length auburn locks floated behind her as she bound and hopped into Lance's arms. He was tall and looked as if he might tear his suit apart should he decided to flex in even the slightest of ways. He easily caught Sydney in his powerful arms as she wrapped her own around him. What made Scott uncomfortable was that Sydney had also wrapped her legs around this stranger who had now just slipped his hands down over her butt.
"You look great!" Sydney began as leaned back to look into Lance's eyes.
"So do you! Seriously, Sydney. Wow." Lancegrinned before setting her back down and giving her long look over.
'Okay will you two please stop holding each other now?' Scott thought to himself as she shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He took a sip of his wine as he regarded his girlfriend's reaction to this stranger whom she clearly had a deeper relationship with than the term 'stranger' would imply, but as he didn't know anything about this guy, Scott found himself beginning to experience a pang of jealousy for the first time since he and Sydney started dating.
"Oh my god, Lance!" Sydney half bent and slapped her thighs with a giggle. "What are you doing here?"
Scott attempted to clear his throat and when that didn't seem to catch their attention he took another sip of his wine, shifting uneasily in his seat.
"Business." Lance shrugged and made a face. "What about you? What have you been up to?" He asked.
"Not a whole. I'm just here with Scott." She nodded back to her boyfriend who was again taking another sip of wine. "Come! You should join us!" Sydney took hold of Lance's giant paw and pulled him back the table, much to Scott's chagrin. "Scott, this is Lance. He's an old friend of mine. Lance, Scott. "
"Nice to meet you." Lancerumbled as he offered his hand to Scott.
"Likewise." Scott responded weakly as he accepted Luke's hand, looking up at the giant of a man, made all the worse by his seated position.
"Listen, I'm all for catching up, but do you mind if we do this at a booth?" Lance asked as he held his arm up, catching the attention of their waitress.
"Yes, sir? What can I do for you?" Sally asked with a warm smile. Scott noticed Sally's interest in Lance as he caught her checking him out.
"Tell me you have a booth for us." Lance indicated Sydney, and Scottwith a wave of his hand and that damnably charming smile.
"Oh yeah. Right this way!" She beamed.
The trio followed their waitress to their new table, a booth in a far corner. Scott took his seat opposite Lance, but Sydney plopped herself in right next to her friend. She was closer than Scott cared for but he was still processing the initial interruption. He felt flush but chalked that up to the wine.
"I'll give you guys a little more time to order. However can I get you something? Anything at all, sir?" Sally asked with a glaze in her eyes.
"Yes, a scotch, clean please." Lance said as he leaned back in the booth.
"It's so nice to see you! So how have you been!?" Sydney asked as she leaned into Lance's shoulder.
"I've been doing well. I have my own brokerage firm now and we just purchased a pharmaceutical lab." Lancerevealed.
"A pharma...? Wait..." Sydney's brow cocked up. "Did you buy PharMont?"
"How did you know?" Lance asked.
"I fucking work for them!" Sydney shouted with a laugh.
"Get out." Lance blurted.
"Yes, go. Leave, damn it. What is even going on here?" Scott thought to himself. He couldn't even believe what he was hearing. He had had plans for tonight and now that was all out the door, so he again returned to his wine.
"Your, you bought PharMont?" Sydney asked again.
"Yes. There's good money to be made and PharMont looks profitable. Now that I know you're on the team, I can understand why." Lanceshared.
"Here's your drink, sir." Sally said as she set his scotch down.
"Can I get a ref-..." Scott began but Sally was already gone.
"Oh wow. I can't believe it." Sydney laughed.
"Yeah who would've thought I'd buy some pharmaceutical business and you'd be working there?" Lance laughed as he sipped his drink. "Pardon me, Sydney, but I have to hit the head." Lance said.
"Oh, sorry!" Sydney smiled as she wiggled out of his way to let him out of the booth.
"Thanks. I'll be back." Lance announced unnecessarily.
"Okay who the hell is he?" Scott asked once Lance was out of earshot.
"Who? Lance?" Sydney asked. "He's just a friend from school." She shrugged.
"He must be one hell of a friend since you've never mentioned once." Scott stated.
"Oh stop it, honey." Sydney said. "You're being silly."
Scott didn't think so but Lance's return stifled that branch of conversation rather effectively. Eventually the trio would order their dinner, while Sydney and Lance seemed to be enjoying the company of one another, Scott made due with his bottle of wine. The night he had been looking forward to all month long was not going how ad he hoped. While he could not have foreseen such an interruption like this he was still feeling defeated.
———-
Alright, leaving this a bit open ended with how I'd like to take this but I'd like to play out the concerns the boyfriend might have, the insecurities and jealousy he may have along with perhaps the arousal and hotness that he finds. Whether we want something to genuinely be going on behind the boyfriends back or not.
The background and set up can be different as well, down for adjustments.
Can I Borrow Your Wife?
Dean admired his wife Billie as she slipped into her comfy pyjamas. He often wondered how he had ended up with such an attractive woman. He wasn't bad looking in fact many would have called him handsome. At 27 he was tall and trim from regular running, with mousy brown hair and a bright friendly face that put people at ease. The reason he was so surprised that a beautiful woman like Billie had married him was that he'd never been much good with women in the past. His problem was he was always so enamoured of them that he could never play it cool. He was so excited by beautiful women that he got flustered when trying to be anything more than their friend.
He had had a semi serious girlfriend and even a very drunk one night stand before he met Billie in his third year of Uni. They met through a mutual friend and really clicked. She had been with someone else when they met. Dean theorised that this was why he got on with her so easily as he didn't see a relationship happening so he hung out with her as a friend and never felt the pressure of having to come on to her.
Her relationship didn't last and one fateful night they hooked up at a house party. Billie had decided that she was going to have him that night and came on to him so aggressively that he didn't have a chance to get jittery before they were already doing it. That was it. From then on they hung out and fucked and come the end of Uni he got a flat and she moved in while she finished her final year.
Living together was a breeze and it was without hesitation that he proposed and she accepted with tears in her eyes. She had never expected to be a young bride but equally she always thought she was going to end up with jerks like the guys she had always been with before. She couldn't imagine finding a man who she loved spending time with as much as Dean.
Billie was 25 and had long straight blonde hair that had darkened as he became an adult from the bright blonde of her childhood but she had highlights in that kept it looking bright. She was on the shorter side of average height and very slim. As a kid she had always looked like a pencil but she'd been a bit of a tomboy and had given neighbourhood boys back as good as they gave. Now as an adult she had a model's physique with B cup breasts that looked large on her frame. Her legs were long and slender and her thighs had a little gap in between even when her knees were touching and a pert behind that guys always called cute.
Despite her figure she was healthy and ate well but that energy she had had as a kid had continued into her adult years. She loved to run with Dean but also hit the gym regularly and swam at least once per week. Back at Uni she had been a club monster and was out dancing two or three times per week. She had also burned a lot of her energy at that time with sex.
Billie was the opposite of Dean in that regard. Her tomboy personality had led her to get on well with boys and she quickly found that boys were attracted to girls who could play along with their games. Mixed with her natural good looks she found that she was never short of male attention and from the point of losing her virginity she had enjoyed sex but she avoided relationships. They got in the way and jealousy was such a pain to deal with so she kept it casual.
That was until she met Dean. She had just broken away from a guy who was trying to get clingy and needed a new cock to help her forget him. She had been getting on with Dean and when the opportunity arose to bed him she jumped on it. She'd seen him try to chat up girls and he was hopeless so she took the initiative.
The following morning they hung out and did it again. The sex was nice. Not mind blowing but good. It wasn't the sex though, she just felt comfortable with him in a way she had never felt before. For once she was just as interested in just being with him than partying.
After a year together he asked her to move in after he got a job and it just seemed right. It had probably saved her education as well. Being in a committed relationship in a flat away from the partying allowed her to knuckle down and get some work done and she came away with a good degree but whereas Dean had gone straight into a good position in the accounts department of a good company her marketing degree wasn't helping her out so much.
Eventually she landed a part time reception gig for an office complex. She knew she had got the job because she was pretty and had flirted with the interviewer as it had nothing to do with her qualifications but it was bringing in enough to cover her own expenses and give at least a little to the flat but things were tighter than they would have liked and she was constantly on the lookout for something she had trained in or at least a better pay-check.
She climbed into bed with her man and he held his arm out so she could rest her head on his chest. "I've got to drop the car into the garage tomorrow" she said laden with meaning.
Dean knew what she was getting it "I know it needs a lot doing to it but we can cope. We are just going to have to spread the payment out a bit. We'll be fine" he said as he stroked her silky hair.
"I could cancel my gym membership and run with you more" she said sleepily being lulled by his calming touch.
"Really my love we are going to be fine." It was going to be tight but he was a budgeting master, they may have to shop frugally for the next month or so but they could do it. Just then his phone buzzed and he reached over to get it. Billie protested at the slight movement of his chest which disturbed her "Huh" he said as he read the message.
"What is it" said Billie lifting her head slightly.
"Nothing serious, it's from Liam. It says he's in the area soon and wants to meet up."
--
Dean set the table while Billie did the cooking. He was looking forward to seeing Liam, without him Dean's university life would have been pretty quiet and it was at his party that he had met Billie. The issue was that Liam had a very different view on the world to Dean and it sometimes caused a little friction.
This visit was a good example of that. Liam came from money and really had no concept of struggling to make ends meet. When Dean had called him to arrange meeting up Liam had instantly suggested going out to dinner and was throwing out restaurant names that Dean recognised as being pretty expensive. It had taken ages to convince him that they really couldn't afford to eat out at all let alone in a fancy restaurant. Eventually he got it "A quiet night in sounds great" he had announced in his big exuberant way. I'll bring the wine. I want to talk to you about something that might help with that money problem of yours." Dean had pushed him for more details but he jovially refused to say more.
Liam was like that but Dean had always appreciated him being a counterfoil to his own quieter, more nervous personality and had always let himself get swept up by his charisma. It had gotten them into trouble a few times which Dean now viewed as some of his fondest memories.
In return Dean was always there when Liam needed to knuckle down and do some work. It turned out that Liam's parents were pretty strict. They had made him go to university to study accountancy to teach him fiscal responsibility and while he loved to party and was certainly a ladies man, he also respected/feared his parents enough that he needed to do well. He would come, cap in hand to Dean asking for help on one subject or another and Dean would help him. Liam always had the good grace to take it seriously at those times and then after the test, essay or presentation was over he would drag Dean out for more fun and hi-jinx. After university they had lost touch a little as Dean focussed on work and Liam began whatever enterprise he had been working at.
There was a knock on the door and Dean rushed over to answer it. There he was, arms outstretched ready to hug and Dean found himself pulled into a hard, manly embrace. Liam's mother was Middle Eastern and his father was Scandinavian this had resulted in a son well above the average height with broad shoulders. His features were more on the European side but he had the black hair and tanned skin from his mother's side. His father would joke that he had kidnapped his mother on a Viking raid and there was definitely something of the Viking about Liam.
Liam came in and greeted Billie with a cheer as he picked her up and turned around with her nearly knocking things over in their modest apartment. Billie squealed and laughed at the big oaf and she punched him on the arm before going on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and saying "Hello Liam, good to see you." The couple fussed around setting out dinner as Liam opened the no doubt expensive wine he had brought with him and they sat down to dinner.
Nobody mentioned the thing that Liam had wanted to discuss because they were too busy catching up and by the end of the meal they were one bottle of wine down and well on the way to polishing off the second. Liam was largely unaffected and Billie was holding it well but Dean was starting to move from merry to pissed. He really didn't drink much these days as he saw it as an unnecessary expense but Billie still drank semi regularly.
They had moved over to the living area and were slouched on comfortable chairs. Liam in an armchair and Billie was reclining against Dean on the sofa. Liam leaned forward after a natural break in the conversation and looked serious "I have something I need to discuss with you guys" he said. "I have a big favour to ask and if it's too much please say, I won't be offended."
Billie and Dean looked at each other with concern the effects of the wine lessened by the shift in tone. "What is it buddy" asked Dean.
Liam sighed and ran his hands over his face "I would like to borrow Billie" he announced.
"Borrow her for what?" asked Dean.
"I would like Billie to be my girlfriend."
They stared at him blankly.
"I should say I would like her to pretend to be my girlfriend" corrected Liam.
The couple nearly spat out their wine when he first said it but once he clarified it Billie laughed "Why do you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?"
"Yea bud' I think we need a bit more context here."
"It's my damn parent's dude. I'm busy trying to set up my own businesses but they are on at me about settling down and finding a steady girl."
That made sense to Dean. He had met Liam's parents. His dad was strict about money and responsibility but pretty easy going about most other things. His mother was pretty conservative and didn't like his loose behaviour with women. She barely tolerated him wanting to be an entrepreneur preferring he had followed a more traditional route like Dean and she wanted him married or at the very least to stop playing around and to find a nice girl to be with and not the party girls he usually dated if he saw them more than once that was. "What are they wanting?" Dean asked.
"My big sister is getting married and my mum has been worse than ever" said Liam. "To shut her up I told her I was seeing a nice girl. That was fine for a few days but then she was pestering me for details and a picture so I went through my phone to find a picture of me with a girl to send her but none of them were particularly appropriate."
"Oh I can see where this is going" said Billie sitting up and leaning forward.
Liam made eye contact and gave a guilty shrug but continued the story. "I found a picture of me with a nice girl who was dressed nicely and didn't have too much makeup on who I looked relaxed and happy with. It was you from that garden party Jeff threw a couple of years ago so I sent her that. My god was she delighted and there were so many questions and, well, because I knew you so well I just used you as a template and told her all about you. So now we have this big pre wedding planning party to go to and I really need a date and maybe for the wedding?" His voice went up as he winced while making his request.
There was a pregnant pause where nobody said anything. Dean was fighting the alcohol to make sense of this stupid request but he was snapped out of it when Billie burst out laughing. "You stupid bastard" she said while laughing "I can't believe you put yourself in these situations. Just tell her we broke up, probably because you cheated on me with a stripper."
"I would but she is being a nightmare. She won't leave me alone and I am trying to set up some businesses that she wouldn't strictly approve of. A lovely girlfriend for her to fawn over will distract her long enough that I can get things running and hopefully she doesn't find out but if she does and persuades my dad to cut me off it won't matter because I'll be solvent. It's only the wedding and a couple of meetups, please" he begged putting his hands together and giving them both puppy dog eyes which he managed to do very well considering his size.
Dean's head was fuzzy with wine and he couldn't quite get it "So you take Billie to meet your family and pass her off as your girlfriend until after the wedding?"
"That's the gist of it" confirmed Liam.
Dean rubbed his temples "Exactly how far does she have to go to prove it?"
Liam laughed "Yes I get your point. I don't think my parents are expecting a leaked sex tape if that's what you are getting at but yes we would have to be comfortable with casual contact and maybe even share a kiss and definitely share a room." Liam could see that Dean looked uncomfortable. "If you think of it as an acting job which it kind of is, then it's not eleven as much as a lot of actors do in films" he added trying to persuade him. "I'd consider it like a job too. I'd be taking up your spare time Billie so I'd pay you."
"Doesn't that kind of make me a bit like a whore?" asked Billie seriously.
"Or like an actress" Liam reiterated with a cheeky grin.
Dean turned to Billie and asked "What do you think about all this?"
"Honestly I think Liam is a silly prick for getting himself in this situation," she said exasperated "but I was looking for another job to fill in between my current one and I could think of worse jobs." She sighed, leaned back and crossed her arms "In theory I'm happy to do it but I'm not sure you are" she gestured to Dean.
"What do you mean?" he asked, a little hurt.
"I mean men have delicate egos' and I am not prepared to risk damaging our marriage for a little cash. If you think you can deal with me disappearing for a couple of nights with another man and you'll have no idea what we are up to then go ahead. If you can't take it then just say no and I'll find another job."
Dean went quiet as he thought. All eyes were on him but he wasn't aware of their stares as he searched his feelings. He wanted to help his friend and they needed some extra income. These were good enough reasons to say yes. What was Billie thinking questioning his confidence in her and Liam? Did she think he didn't trust her? Still, those things she said did give him pause…
Dean admired his wife Billie as she slipped into her comfy pyjamas. He often wondered how he had ended up with such an attractive woman. He wasn't bad looking in fact many would have called him handsome. At 27 he was tall and trim from regular running, with mousy brown hair and a bright friendly face that put people at ease. The reason he was so surprised that a beautiful woman like Billie had married him was that he'd never been much good with women in the past. His problem was he was always so enamoured of them that he could never play it cool. He was so excited by beautiful women that he got flustered when trying to be anything more than their friend.
He had had a semi serious girlfriend and even a very drunk one night stand before he met Billie in his third year of Uni. They met through a mutual friend and really clicked. She had been with someone else when they met. Dean theorised that this was why he got on with her so easily as he didn't see a relationship happening so he hung out with her as a friend and never felt the pressure of having to come on to her.
Her relationship didn't last and one fateful night they hooked up at a house party. Billie had decided that she was going to have him that night and came on to him so aggressively that he didn't have a chance to get jittery before they were already doing it. That was it. From then on they hung out and fucked and come the end of Uni he got a flat and she moved in while she finished her final year.
Living together was a breeze and it was without hesitation that he proposed and she accepted with tears in her eyes. She had never expected to be a young bride but equally she always thought she was going to end up with jerks like the guys she had always been with before. She couldn't imagine finding a man who she loved spending time with as much as Dean.
Billie was 25 and had long straight blonde hair that had darkened as he became an adult from the bright blonde of her childhood but she had highlights in that kept it looking bright. She was on the shorter side of average height and very slim. As a kid she had always looked like a pencil but she'd been a bit of a tomboy and had given neighbourhood boys back as good as they gave. Now as an adult she had a model's physique with B cup breasts that looked large on her frame. Her legs were long and slender and her thighs had a little gap in between even when her knees were touching and a pert behind that guys always called cute.
Despite her figure she was healthy and ate well but that energy she had had as a kid had continued into her adult years. She loved to run with Dean but also hit the gym regularly and swam at least once per week. Back at Uni she had been a club monster and was out dancing two or three times per week. She had also burned a lot of her energy at that time with sex.
Billie was the opposite of Dean in that regard. Her tomboy personality had led her to get on well with boys and she quickly found that boys were attracted to girls who could play along with their games. Mixed with her natural good looks she found that she was never short of male attention and from the point of losing her virginity she had enjoyed sex but she avoided relationships. They got in the way and jealousy was such a pain to deal with so she kept it casual.
That was until she met Dean. She had just broken away from a guy who was trying to get clingy and needed a new cock to help her forget him. She had been getting on with Dean and when the opportunity arose to bed him she jumped on it. She'd seen him try to chat up girls and he was hopeless so she took the initiative.
The following morning they hung out and did it again. The sex was nice. Not mind blowing but good. It wasn't the sex though, she just felt comfortable with him in a way she had never felt before. For once she was just as interested in just being with him than partying.
After a year together he asked her to move in after he got a job and it just seemed right. It had probably saved her education as well. Being in a committed relationship in a flat away from the partying allowed her to knuckle down and get some work done and she came away with a good degree but whereas Dean had gone straight into a good position in the accounts department of a good company her marketing degree wasn't helping her out so much.
Eventually she landed a part time reception gig for an office complex. She knew she had got the job because she was pretty and had flirted with the interviewer as it had nothing to do with her qualifications but it was bringing in enough to cover her own expenses and give at least a little to the flat but things were tighter than they would have liked and she was constantly on the lookout for something she had trained in or at least a better pay-check.
She climbed into bed with her man and he held his arm out so she could rest her head on his chest. "I've got to drop the car into the garage tomorrow" she said laden with meaning.
Dean knew what she was getting it "I know it needs a lot doing to it but we can cope. We are just going to have to spread the payment out a bit. We'll be fine" he said as he stroked her silky hair.
"I could cancel my gym membership and run with you more" she said sleepily being lulled by his calming touch.
"Really my love we are going to be fine." It was going to be tight but he was a budgeting master, they may have to shop frugally for the next month or so but they could do it. Just then his phone buzzed and he reached over to get it. Billie protested at the slight movement of his chest which disturbed her "Huh" he said as he read the message.
"What is it" said Billie lifting her head slightly.
"Nothing serious, it's from Liam. It says he's in the area soon and wants to meet up."
--
Dean set the table while Billie did the cooking. He was looking forward to seeing Liam, without him Dean's university life would have been pretty quiet and it was at his party that he had met Billie. The issue was that Liam had a very different view on the world to Dean and it sometimes caused a little friction.
This visit was a good example of that. Liam came from money and really had no concept of struggling to make ends meet. When Dean had called him to arrange meeting up Liam had instantly suggested going out to dinner and was throwing out restaurant names that Dean recognised as being pretty expensive. It had taken ages to convince him that they really couldn't afford to eat out at all let alone in a fancy restaurant. Eventually he got it "A quiet night in sounds great" he had announced in his big exuberant way. I'll bring the wine. I want to talk to you about something that might help with that money problem of yours." Dean had pushed him for more details but he jovially refused to say more.
Liam was like that but Dean had always appreciated him being a counterfoil to his own quieter, more nervous personality and had always let himself get swept up by his charisma. It had gotten them into trouble a few times which Dean now viewed as some of his fondest memories.
In return Dean was always there when Liam needed to knuckle down and do some work. It turned out that Liam's parents were pretty strict. They had made him go to university to study accountancy to teach him fiscal responsibility and while he loved to party and was certainly a ladies man, he also respected/feared his parents enough that he needed to do well. He would come, cap in hand to Dean asking for help on one subject or another and Dean would help him. Liam always had the good grace to take it seriously at those times and then after the test, essay or presentation was over he would drag Dean out for more fun and hi-jinx. After university they had lost touch a little as Dean focussed on work and Liam began whatever enterprise he had been working at.
There was a knock on the door and Dean rushed over to answer it. There he was, arms outstretched ready to hug and Dean found himself pulled into a hard, manly embrace. Liam's mother was Middle Eastern and his father was Scandinavian this had resulted in a son well above the average height with broad shoulders. His features were more on the European side but he had the black hair and tanned skin from his mother's side. His father would joke that he had kidnapped his mother on a Viking raid and there was definitely something of the Viking about Liam.
Liam came in and greeted Billie with a cheer as he picked her up and turned around with her nearly knocking things over in their modest apartment. Billie squealed and laughed at the big oaf and she punched him on the arm before going on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and saying "Hello Liam, good to see you." The couple fussed around setting out dinner as Liam opened the no doubt expensive wine he had brought with him and they sat down to dinner.
Nobody mentioned the thing that Liam had wanted to discuss because they were too busy catching up and by the end of the meal they were one bottle of wine down and well on the way to polishing off the second. Liam was largely unaffected and Billie was holding it well but Dean was starting to move from merry to pissed. He really didn't drink much these days as he saw it as an unnecessary expense but Billie still drank semi regularly.
They had moved over to the living area and were slouched on comfortable chairs. Liam in an armchair and Billie was reclining against Dean on the sofa. Liam leaned forward after a natural break in the conversation and looked serious "I have something I need to discuss with you guys" he said. "I have a big favour to ask and if it's too much please say, I won't be offended."
Billie and Dean looked at each other with concern the effects of the wine lessened by the shift in tone. "What is it buddy" asked Dean.
Liam sighed and ran his hands over his face "I would like to borrow Billie" he announced.
"Borrow her for what?" asked Dean.
"I would like Billie to be my girlfriend."
They stared at him blankly.
"I should say I would like her to pretend to be my girlfriend" corrected Liam.
The couple nearly spat out their wine when he first said it but once he clarified it Billie laughed "Why do you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?"
"Yea bud' I think we need a bit more context here."
"It's my damn parent's dude. I'm busy trying to set up my own businesses but they are on at me about settling down and finding a steady girl."
That made sense to Dean. He had met Liam's parents. His dad was strict about money and responsibility but pretty easy going about most other things. His mother was pretty conservative and didn't like his loose behaviour with women. She barely tolerated him wanting to be an entrepreneur preferring he had followed a more traditional route like Dean and she wanted him married or at the very least to stop playing around and to find a nice girl to be with and not the party girls he usually dated if he saw them more than once that was. "What are they wanting?" Dean asked.
"My big sister is getting married and my mum has been worse than ever" said Liam. "To shut her up I told her I was seeing a nice girl. That was fine for a few days but then she was pestering me for details and a picture so I went through my phone to find a picture of me with a girl to send her but none of them were particularly appropriate."
"Oh I can see where this is going" said Billie sitting up and leaning forward.
Liam made eye contact and gave a guilty shrug but continued the story. "I found a picture of me with a nice girl who was dressed nicely and didn't have too much makeup on who I looked relaxed and happy with. It was you from that garden party Jeff threw a couple of years ago so I sent her that. My god was she delighted and there were so many questions and, well, because I knew you so well I just used you as a template and told her all about you. So now we have this big pre wedding planning party to go to and I really need a date and maybe for the wedding?" His voice went up as he winced while making his request.
There was a pregnant pause where nobody said anything. Dean was fighting the alcohol to make sense of this stupid request but he was snapped out of it when Billie burst out laughing. "You stupid bastard" she said while laughing "I can't believe you put yourself in these situations. Just tell her we broke up, probably because you cheated on me with a stripper."
"I would but she is being a nightmare. She won't leave me alone and I am trying to set up some businesses that she wouldn't strictly approve of. A lovely girlfriend for her to fawn over will distract her long enough that I can get things running and hopefully she doesn't find out but if she does and persuades my dad to cut me off it won't matter because I'll be solvent. It's only the wedding and a couple of meetups, please" he begged putting his hands together and giving them both puppy dog eyes which he managed to do very well considering his size.
Dean's head was fuzzy with wine and he couldn't quite get it "So you take Billie to meet your family and pass her off as your girlfriend until after the wedding?"
"That's the gist of it" confirmed Liam.
Dean rubbed his temples "Exactly how far does she have to go to prove it?"
Liam laughed "Yes I get your point. I don't think my parents are expecting a leaked sex tape if that's what you are getting at but yes we would have to be comfortable with casual contact and maybe even share a kiss and definitely share a room." Liam could see that Dean looked uncomfortable. "If you think of it as an acting job which it kind of is, then it's not eleven as much as a lot of actors do in films" he added trying to persuade him. "I'd consider it like a job too. I'd be taking up your spare time Billie so I'd pay you."
"Doesn't that kind of make me a bit like a whore?" asked Billie seriously.
"Or like an actress" Liam reiterated with a cheeky grin.
Dean turned to Billie and asked "What do you think about all this?"
"Honestly I think Liam is a silly prick for getting himself in this situation," she said exasperated "but I was looking for another job to fill in between my current one and I could think of worse jobs." She sighed, leaned back and crossed her arms "In theory I'm happy to do it but I'm not sure you are" she gestured to Dean.
"What do you mean?" he asked, a little hurt.
"I mean men have delicate egos' and I am not prepared to risk damaging our marriage for a little cash. If you think you can deal with me disappearing for a couple of nights with another man and you'll have no idea what we are up to then go ahead. If you can't take it then just say no and I'll find another job."
Dean went quiet as he thought. All eyes were on him but he wasn't aware of their stares as he searched his feelings. He wanted to help his friend and they needed some extra income. These were good enough reasons to say yes. What was Billie thinking questioning his confidence in her and Liam? Did she think he didn't trust her? Still, those things she said did give him pause…
Dating a girl with an OnlyFans should be fun right? Like mind blowing to have a girl be so skill full and hot, so open with her kinks and experience. Sure there were the weird initial concerns, the jealousy, the thoughts of not being enough and that she would be chatting to other guys online and doing photos and videos for them.
But it paid a lot and that money was super helpful while being in college. It helped that the boyfriend had a bit of skill in photography and was able to capture his girlfriend in all her glory and help out when possible. Or maybe he doesn't want to be involved or know much about it.
Maybe one day he decides to subscribe to her OnlyFans and scrolls back far enough to see his girlfriend sucking on a huge cock that's twice the size of his, her ex boyfriend that she filmed a fair amount of content with… maybe the boyfriend finds the content so hot.
So I'd like to explore a college couple. A girl that's been a bit promiscuous and is out there with an OnlyFans. Now the boyfriend can be played in a variety of ways, whether he encourages her OnlyFans content or helps out or not.
I'd like to play out the concerns the boyfriend might have, the insecurities and jealousy he may have along with perhaps the arousal and hotness that he finds. I'm thinking that her Ex will come back into the picture at some point. Other characters that I can see playing a big part can be friends of the boyfriend and maybe an established porn company that might reach out to our gal.
But I'd very much enjoy a kind of cheating or cuckold/sharing dynamics to this story.
But it paid a lot and that money was super helpful while being in college. It helped that the boyfriend had a bit of skill in photography and was able to capture his girlfriend in all her glory and help out when possible. Or maybe he doesn't want to be involved or know much about it.
Maybe one day he decides to subscribe to her OnlyFans and scrolls back far enough to see his girlfriend sucking on a huge cock that's twice the size of his, her ex boyfriend that she filmed a fair amount of content with… maybe the boyfriend finds the content so hot.
So I'd like to explore a college couple. A girl that's been a bit promiscuous and is out there with an OnlyFans. Now the boyfriend can be played in a variety of ways, whether he encourages her OnlyFans content or helps out or not.
I'd like to play out the concerns the boyfriend might have, the insecurities and jealousy he may have along with perhaps the arousal and hotness that he finds. I'm thinking that her Ex will come back into the picture at some point. Other characters that I can see playing a big part can be friends of the boyfriend and maybe an established porn company that might reach out to our gal.
But I'd very much enjoy a kind of cheating or cuckold/sharing dynamics to this story.
I'd never seen Peter this giddy before, fidgeting and squirming like it was Christmas Eve, forehead glistening with beads of flop sweat as he peered over the line of people holding their posters, jerseys, and other pieces of memorabilia for you to autograph. It would've been more embarrassing if it hadn't been my idea, to surprise him on his birthday with a meet-and-greet from his favorite athlete. I wasn't really into sports, and didn't know much about you other than the things I gleaned from Peter when he'd gush about an amazing play you made, or some last-second heroics that won the game.
The perfect birthday present for my sweet boyfriend, I thought.
As we reached the front of the line, I was caught off guard by a tickle in the pit of my stomach when I saw you. In all the time that Peter had fawned over you, I'd never bothered to think about what you might look like. You were handsome, with a square jaw, glimmering eyes, and a charming smile. Even as you sat behind that fold-out table, I could tell how impressive your physique was underneath the shirt that clung to your broad shoulders and pecs. I crossed my arms over my chest when I felt my nipples harden and chafe against my cashmere sweater.
Peter was in too much shock to notice the lengthy eye-contact between us, his lips trembling as he mustered up the courage to ask you to sign a game jersey you'd worn your rookie year, something he'd bid hundreds of dollars on and kept in a glass case in his living room. While he recounted statistics, and memorable plays back to you, your eyes kept wandering over to me, unabashedly roaming over my body, lingering on the hem of the plaid skirt that hung just above my mid-thigh. My own gaze lingered on the pulsing veins in your meaty hands and thick forearms, eliciting a tickle between my legs.
Peter defied the sign that read "No Pictures" next to you, and quietly requested one to which you politely obliged. When you stood up and put your arm around him, the contrast between the two of you took my breath away. I never considered Peter to be a small guy, but he seemed so tiny compared to your massive frame. I took the picture with my phone and, afterwards you asked if you could have a copy. Strange, I thought, but before I knew it you were grabbing my phone and texting the picture to yourself. As you handed the phone back to me, you held onto it a little tightly, and our eyes danced together for another lingering moment.
As we left, Peter rambled on excitedly, while I walked beside him in a confused thrill, my body warming over in a longing reverberation as I replayed that brief moment in my head. I was bewildered by our interaction, yet strangely flattered at the idea that someone so attractive, famous, and powerful would even have the slightest interest in me. Had I imagined the whole thing, I wondered, perhaps mistaking your innocent expressions as something more.
Then, my phone vibrated in my purse...
The perfect birthday present for my sweet boyfriend, I thought.
As we reached the front of the line, I was caught off guard by a tickle in the pit of my stomach when I saw you. In all the time that Peter had fawned over you, I'd never bothered to think about what you might look like. You were handsome, with a square jaw, glimmering eyes, and a charming smile. Even as you sat behind that fold-out table, I could tell how impressive your physique was underneath the shirt that clung to your broad shoulders and pecs. I crossed my arms over my chest when I felt my nipples harden and chafe against my cashmere sweater.
Peter was in too much shock to notice the lengthy eye-contact between us, his lips trembling as he mustered up the courage to ask you to sign a game jersey you'd worn your rookie year, something he'd bid hundreds of dollars on and kept in a glass case in his living room. While he recounted statistics, and memorable plays back to you, your eyes kept wandering over to me, unabashedly roaming over my body, lingering on the hem of the plaid skirt that hung just above my mid-thigh. My own gaze lingered on the pulsing veins in your meaty hands and thick forearms, eliciting a tickle between my legs.
Peter defied the sign that read "No Pictures" next to you, and quietly requested one to which you politely obliged. When you stood up and put your arm around him, the contrast between the two of you took my breath away. I never considered Peter to be a small guy, but he seemed so tiny compared to your massive frame. I took the picture with my phone and, afterwards you asked if you could have a copy. Strange, I thought, but before I knew it you were grabbing my phone and texting the picture to yourself. As you handed the phone back to me, you held onto it a little tightly, and our eyes danced together for another lingering moment.
As we left, Peter rambled on excitedly, while I walked beside him in a confused thrill, my body warming over in a longing reverberation as I replayed that brief moment in my head. I was bewildered by our interaction, yet strangely flattered at the idea that someone so attractive, famous, and powerful would even have the slightest interest in me. Had I imagined the whole thing, I wondered, perhaps mistaking your innocent expressions as something more.
Then, my phone vibrated in my purse...
"Look at me... why are you trying to pull off on my cock? You know this is your fucking job? You know, like, right now... right now, we own you? Do you know that? Answer me..."
I flinched when he lifted his hand up to smack my face again, the way he promised he would if I didn't answer him, and muttered out a sloppy "ungh-huh" around his thick cock.
"Okay..." he said through a breath as he thrusted forward, burying the tip into the back of my throat, eliciting a soft gag. "That's it," he huffs, excitedly. "Back in, back where it was. Back in again... come on... make it easy on yourself..."
How the fuck did we get here so quickly? How did my husband's little poker game devolve into me having my throat fucked and shared by his friends?
\_\_\_
They were supposed to be gone by the time I got back. Your poker buddies. I went out with my girl friends to give you the house for a few hours so you could, I dunno... do whatever it is guys do together. But they weren't. No, they were still there, sitting at the kitchen table starting another round. I'd usually give you a dirty look, or some kind of gesture to tell them to leave, but not tonight. No, I'm a little tipsy from the wine, and I even pour myself another and ask if I can watch.
I forget how it even began, but someone started streaming videos onto the big screen. Tik Tok challenges of people doing stupid shit to themselves or others. People balancing on milk crates and busting their asses. Men waxing their facial hair through screams of intense pain. Stupid, yes, but hilarious, no less.
Then, we get to the "banana challenge." Women attempting to shove a big banana down their throats to see how far they can get without gagging, some successful, others not. I'm a little annoyed, at first, rolling my eyes and silently seething nearby. Through all of the whooping, hollering, and laughter, I can feel your concerned eyes on me, wondering if you're in for a lecture in bed tonight about how gross and misogynistic your friends are. Your friends sense this too, and I can feel them looking my way, checking in perhaps? Or maybe imagining me like that? Who knows.
"Hey, maybe we should turn it off," you say, before I cut you off.
"Oh God," I scoff with a roll of my eyes, pouring myself another glass of wine. "Why? Cause there's a \*girl\* in the room. Grow up."
"Yeah, come on," a deep voice chimes in. His name's Rick, not one of your usual card players, a man I'd just met tonight. He's tall, fit, ruggedly handsome, and seemingly older than the rest of you. Mid-30's? Early 40's, maybe? It's hard to tell. "We're all grown ups here, right?" he asks with a little wink towards me as he plays with the deck of cards in his large mitts. "You can handle it, can't you?"
Something about his voice, or the look in his eyes, or the swagger practically melting off of him makes me blush. "Uh-huh..."
"Well... show us then?"
Your eyes grow as big as saucers, believing I might be close to popping off and laying into this new friend of yours. But I don't. Instead, I just giggle.
"Show you? Show you what?"
"You know what... the challenge."
Your eyes dart between him and me, confused as to why I'm not turning into the bad bitch you're used to when anyone says shit like this.
"Oh, yeah?" I laugh while my face turns maroon. "You wanna see me do the challenge, huh?" Rick and I lock eyes. It's as if we're the only two people in the room. "Okay..."
The room bursts into nervous and excited chuckling, murmurs of my name bouncing around the room, all while you follow me with those bewildered eyes as I walk over to a bowl of fruit and pluck out a banana. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I unpeel it slowly, teasing it all while keeping eyes on Rick, who continues playing with the cards, stoic except for a slight smirk on his face.
I flinched when he lifted his hand up to smack my face again, the way he promised he would if I didn't answer him, and muttered out a sloppy "ungh-huh" around his thick cock.
"Okay..." he said through a breath as he thrusted forward, burying the tip into the back of my throat, eliciting a soft gag. "That's it," he huffs, excitedly. "Back in, back where it was. Back in again... come on... make it easy on yourself..."
How the fuck did we get here so quickly? How did my husband's little poker game devolve into me having my throat fucked and shared by his friends?
\_\_\_
They were supposed to be gone by the time I got back. Your poker buddies. I went out with my girl friends to give you the house for a few hours so you could, I dunno... do whatever it is guys do together. But they weren't. No, they were still there, sitting at the kitchen table starting another round. I'd usually give you a dirty look, or some kind of gesture to tell them to leave, but not tonight. No, I'm a little tipsy from the wine, and I even pour myself another and ask if I can watch.
I forget how it even began, but someone started streaming videos onto the big screen. Tik Tok challenges of people doing stupid shit to themselves or others. People balancing on milk crates and busting their asses. Men waxing their facial hair through screams of intense pain. Stupid, yes, but hilarious, no less.
Then, we get to the "banana challenge." Women attempting to shove a big banana down their throats to see how far they can get without gagging, some successful, others not. I'm a little annoyed, at first, rolling my eyes and silently seething nearby. Through all of the whooping, hollering, and laughter, I can feel your concerned eyes on me, wondering if you're in for a lecture in bed tonight about how gross and misogynistic your friends are. Your friends sense this too, and I can feel them looking my way, checking in perhaps? Or maybe imagining me like that? Who knows.
"Hey, maybe we should turn it off," you say, before I cut you off.
"Oh God," I scoff with a roll of my eyes, pouring myself another glass of wine. "Why? Cause there's a \*girl\* in the room. Grow up."
"Yeah, come on," a deep voice chimes in. His name's Rick, not one of your usual card players, a man I'd just met tonight. He's tall, fit, ruggedly handsome, and seemingly older than the rest of you. Mid-30's? Early 40's, maybe? It's hard to tell. "We're all grown ups here, right?" he asks with a little wink towards me as he plays with the deck of cards in his large mitts. "You can handle it, can't you?"
Something about his voice, or the look in his eyes, or the swagger practically melting off of him makes me blush. "Uh-huh..."
"Well... show us then?"
Your eyes grow as big as saucers, believing I might be close to popping off and laying into this new friend of yours. But I don't. Instead, I just giggle.
"Show you? Show you what?"
"You know what... the challenge."
Your eyes dart between him and me, confused as to why I'm not turning into the bad bitch you're used to when anyone says shit like this.
"Oh, yeah?" I laugh while my face turns maroon. "You wanna see me do the challenge, huh?" Rick and I lock eyes. It's as if we're the only two people in the room. "Okay..."
The room bursts into nervous and excited chuckling, murmurs of my name bouncing around the room, all while you follow me with those bewildered eyes as I walk over to a bowl of fruit and pluck out a banana. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I unpeel it slowly, teasing it all while keeping eyes on Rick, who continues playing with the cards, stoic except for a slight smirk on his face.
*"Lovin' that dick, huh?"*
The echos of my fatal moan slowly receded into the distance.
**Fuck...**
I slipped. I let my guard down, just for a second, but long enough for him to notice. Was that the first hungry noise I'd made? Or one of many? I didn't know. The last few seconds... minutes(?)... were a blur.
When I looked up at him, he had that smug grin on his face, the one that always made my blood boil, as it was doing now. I pulled my mouth away from his cock with a loud schlucking noise and held it firmly in my palm, continuing to stroke it as I sent him a piercing glare.
"Fuck you," I huffed with a roll of my eyes before returning to the task at hand.
*"Mmhm... fuck me, alright..."*
His retort stung, but the hitch of excitement in his voice made my pussy quiver. As much as I hated him, I was, indeed, "lovin' that dick."
"Are you almost... done?" I asked with feigned impatience while I continued to slurp him down like a thirsty dog lapping at a dish of water.
*"Mmmph... that's up to you..."*
I shot him another eye-dagger, hoping to convey my half-sincere irritation.
*"What?" he said with a snicker. "Does Trev cum when you suck his dick like this?"*
Mother... fucker...
My boyfriend's name coming out of his mouth made me angry, not only at him, but at myself for allowing this to happen. How had I stooped low enough to suck a guy's dick that we both claimed to hate with a passion. The same guy that I told Trevor, just last night, that I couldn't stand. That I wanted to gouge his eyes out. That if he said one more offensive thing to me in that cocky tone that I might kill him. And yet, here I am, with his big dick stretching my lips to their limit, sucking it like my life depended on it.
"Shut the fuck up," I snapped back at him.
*"Make me," he winked.*
So I tried getting it over with as quickly as possible before a guilty breakdown hit me. I opened wide, getting into a zone, slipping into a steady rhythm of wet slurps and drooling quaffs of dick meat. He liked it when I gagged, I could tell by the groand and moans and pants of hot air puffing through his nose when I did. So I tried to throat him, over and over and over, practically killing myself on his rigid shaft.
*"Mmmfuck," he muttered as he shifted in his seat.*
I couldn't help it, the excitement in his voice made my pussy wet, and my nipples hard. I moaned again, louder this time, throwing my defiant facade out the window while I focused on the mission at hand, to make him cum.
*"Goddamn," he mumbled, placing a hand softly on the back of my head. "I'm close..."*
"Mmmmm," I mewled on the way up his cock. "Yeah?" My voice was thick with arousal. "Mmm, fuck my face..."
I wasn't sure why I offered. If I just wanted him to hurry up, or if I wanted to impress him? I didn't know, but the surprise in his eyes gave me goosebumps.
*"Mmm, good girl..." He took control, palming the back of my little skull, guiding me into a steady, yet brutal, rhythm. "That's it... fuck... there we go..."*
He stood up and took a step forward, forcing my bubbly ass onto my heels, and proceeded to thrust in and out of my throat with plunging stabs, grunting like a plumber working a clog out of a drain. My brow furrowed, eyes watered, shoulders hunched with each violent retch he pushed out of my gullet.
Finally, his chest heaved up and down and his breaths became more intense before he released a steady flow of baby batter right down my esophagus. Instinctively, I pushed against his thighs, but he was too strong and kept the bulbous head lodged in my throat before having mercy on me and snatching me away by my hair, only to cover my forehead, the bridge of my nose, and one of my eyelids with hot and sticky ropes of cum.
The serene calm after the storm had arrived, and the only sounds filling the room were the sounds of both of us cathing our breaths. Through one eye, I looked up at him, and he looked down at me, still holding his dick against my lips, and gripping the back of my hair. A moment later, that smug expression returned.
*"Damn... didn't know you sucked dick like a fuckin' porn star."*
"Fuck you," I growled before swiping away the lingering dollop of semen dribbling from the slit of his cock.
The echos of my fatal moan slowly receded into the distance.
**Fuck...**
I slipped. I let my guard down, just for a second, but long enough for him to notice. Was that the first hungry noise I'd made? Or one of many? I didn't know. The last few seconds... minutes(?)... were a blur.
When I looked up at him, he had that smug grin on his face, the one that always made my blood boil, as it was doing now. I pulled my mouth away from his cock with a loud schlucking noise and held it firmly in my palm, continuing to stroke it as I sent him a piercing glare.
"Fuck you," I huffed with a roll of my eyes before returning to the task at hand.
*"Mmhm... fuck me, alright..."*
His retort stung, but the hitch of excitement in his voice made my pussy quiver. As much as I hated him, I was, indeed, "lovin' that dick."
"Are you almost... done?" I asked with feigned impatience while I continued to slurp him down like a thirsty dog lapping at a dish of water.
*"Mmmph... that's up to you..."*
I shot him another eye-dagger, hoping to convey my half-sincere irritation.
*"What?" he said with a snicker. "Does Trev cum when you suck his dick like this?"*
Mother... fucker...
My boyfriend's name coming out of his mouth made me angry, not only at him, but at myself for allowing this to happen. How had I stooped low enough to suck a guy's dick that we both claimed to hate with a passion. The same guy that I told Trevor, just last night, that I couldn't stand. That I wanted to gouge his eyes out. That if he said one more offensive thing to me in that cocky tone that I might kill him. And yet, here I am, with his big dick stretching my lips to their limit, sucking it like my life depended on it.
"Shut the fuck up," I snapped back at him.
*"Make me," he winked.*
So I tried getting it over with as quickly as possible before a guilty breakdown hit me. I opened wide, getting into a zone, slipping into a steady rhythm of wet slurps and drooling quaffs of dick meat. He liked it when I gagged, I could tell by the groand and moans and pants of hot air puffing through his nose when I did. So I tried to throat him, over and over and over, practically killing myself on his rigid shaft.
*"Mmmfuck," he muttered as he shifted in his seat.*
I couldn't help it, the excitement in his voice made my pussy wet, and my nipples hard. I moaned again, louder this time, throwing my defiant facade out the window while I focused on the mission at hand, to make him cum.
*"Goddamn," he mumbled, placing a hand softly on the back of my head. "I'm close..."*
"Mmmmm," I mewled on the way up his cock. "Yeah?" My voice was thick with arousal. "Mmm, fuck my face..."
I wasn't sure why I offered. If I just wanted him to hurry up, or if I wanted to impress him? I didn't know, but the surprise in his eyes gave me goosebumps.
*"Mmm, good girl..." He took control, palming the back of my little skull, guiding me into a steady, yet brutal, rhythm. "That's it... fuck... there we go..."*
He stood up and took a step forward, forcing my bubbly ass onto my heels, and proceeded to thrust in and out of my throat with plunging stabs, grunting like a plumber working a clog out of a drain. My brow furrowed, eyes watered, shoulders hunched with each violent retch he pushed out of my gullet.
Finally, his chest heaved up and down and his breaths became more intense before he released a steady flow of baby batter right down my esophagus. Instinctively, I pushed against his thighs, but he was too strong and kept the bulbous head lodged in my throat before having mercy on me and snatching me away by my hair, only to cover my forehead, the bridge of my nose, and one of my eyelids with hot and sticky ropes of cum.
The serene calm after the storm had arrived, and the only sounds filling the room were the sounds of both of us cathing our breaths. Through one eye, I looked up at him, and he looked down at me, still holding his dick against my lips, and gripping the back of my hair. A moment later, that smug expression returned.
*"Damn... didn't know you sucked dick like a fuckin' porn star."*
"Fuck you," I growled before swiping away the lingering dollop of semen dribbling from the slit of his cock.
"Excuse me..."
*I know that voice.* When I turned around and saw his face again for the first time in years, everything came flooding back.
"You live here?"
"Y-yeah," I stammered.
"I'm Hunter..."
*He doesn't remember me.*
"C-Clare," I answered, extending my hand to meet his, doing my best to hide the hurricane of emotions wreaking havoc on my psyche.
"Clare... nice to meet you." He still had that perfect smile, a pearly white grin that accentuated his cute dimples, and the charming gleam in his eyes. "I just moved in next door."
*I'd like to say that I broke up with you, but that wouldn't be accurate. Neither would saying that you broke up with me, unless you consider ghosting someone after six months "breaking up." You also couldn't say that we actually dated, unless you consider the time I spent giving you head and letting you fuck me whenever you wanted as dating.*
*We started off as bio lab partners my freshman and your junior year of college, and I use the term "partners" very lightly. I was the smart, bookish, type A girl, to your jock, golden boy, devil-may-care persona. So, needless to say, I did all the work. Yes, I was pissed when you'd show up late, if at all, and when you'd just goof off with your friends, or flirt with other girls in our class while I toiled away at the assignment. Still, as much as I resisted it, becoming some giggly air-head around you, your charm and swagger won me over. I even giggled along when you teased me about my clothes, and my nerdy exterior, and it didn't take much flattery for me to take you up on the invite to come over and "study."*
*"Studying," as I found out later that day, consisted of me giving you head, then doing your homework for you. We "studied" three to four times a week, and as the months went on, there wasn't a hole of mine that you weren't familiar with. I didn't know I liked it rough until I met you, that I got a thrill out of being choked, slapped, spit on, having my hair pulled, gagging on your dick. I never thought I'd be the type of girl to be such a slut for anyone's cock, much less someone like you, but here I was.*
"Hey, babe..."
The sound of Mark's voice, and the touch of his hand on the small of my back, startled me.
"H-hey, babe... this is, um... Hunter... he just moved in next door..."
"Mark," he smiled, extending his hand.
I shivered the moment I saw the contrast of Hunter's giant, meaty paw swallow Mark's up like a python feasting on a mouse.
"Hunter..."
*Mark and I started off as friends, and met while you and I were going on. He was my study partner in a math class we were taking, and he and I actually did, indeed, study. He was short and skinny, but cute, nice, compassionate, and smart. He'd worked up the nerve to ask me out, melting into a sweaty mess before he finally invited me to dinner. Of course, I was too cock drunk and obsessed with you to think about anyone else, so I turned him down, telling him I didn't want to ruin our friendship. A few minutes later, I was on my knees in your apartment getting my throat fucked with my hands cuffed behind my back.*
*A few months later, after mid-terms, our bio lab ended, and everything came crashing to a halt. You stopped texting me. A few days later, after resisting the urge to become a clingy side piece, I finally caved and blew up your phone. I even showed up to your apartment, hoping to talk to you, but your roommates covered for you. Then it was Christmas break, and I finally tracked you down once the next semester began. You were unbothered by my tears, stoic in your stance that it was fun while it lasted, but that you'd moved on, leaving me a tear-streaked mess. That was it.*
*Mark's was one of the first shoulders I cried on. Of course, I left out the details, even your name, but told him everything, about how you treated me like shit and only wanted me for sex. He was consoling, sympathetic, and listened with sincerity and patience. As the months went by, we got closer, and I soon realized that I needed someone like him. Someone who cared about me for more than just my body.*
"Nice meeting you two... I gotta run, but I'm in 3455 if you need anything... and here's my number." Hunter pulled out a business card and handed it to Mark before walking away.
"Nice guy," Mark smiled.
"Yeah..."
I should have been relieved that he didn't remember me, as I wasn't proud of how low I'd stooped all those years ago, but I wasn't. I was angry. Sad. Confused. Jealous. How many girls had come along since me that turned me into just another faded notch on his belt, I wondered?
*I didn't think it could get worse after those few months you and I had spent together, but it did.*
*I still couldn't believe I did it. How a few months after Mark and I began officially dating, you texted me out of the blue, asking... no... telling me your girlfriend would be out of town that weekend, and to come over, as if nothing happened. How the anger I'd held for you for so long just disappeared, like a puff of smoke, and I didn't even hesitate in saying yes. How lied to Mark and told him I was going to the gym, only to race over to your off-campus apartment to get my brains fucked out for hours, into the night, while Mark was blowing up my phone, worried, wondering where I was. When I finally came home at 6am the next day, only after you told me to leave, I made up a flimsy excuse about stopping at a friend's house for a drink, and my phone died, and I didn't want to drive home drunk. Mark bought it, or at least didn't ask any questions, and that was that.*
*Three years later, Mark and I are engaged, planning our wedding that's supposed to happen in a few months, and even talking kids. We bought a condo together, in the same neighborhood that you just moved into.*
*I know that voice.* When I turned around and saw his face again for the first time in years, everything came flooding back.
"You live here?"
"Y-yeah," I stammered.
"I'm Hunter..."
*He doesn't remember me.*
"C-Clare," I answered, extending my hand to meet his, doing my best to hide the hurricane of emotions wreaking havoc on my psyche.
"Clare... nice to meet you." He still had that perfect smile, a pearly white grin that accentuated his cute dimples, and the charming gleam in his eyes. "I just moved in next door."
*I'd like to say that I broke up with you, but that wouldn't be accurate. Neither would saying that you broke up with me, unless you consider ghosting someone after six months "breaking up." You also couldn't say that we actually dated, unless you consider the time I spent giving you head and letting you fuck me whenever you wanted as dating.*
*We started off as bio lab partners my freshman and your junior year of college, and I use the term "partners" very lightly. I was the smart, bookish, type A girl, to your jock, golden boy, devil-may-care persona. So, needless to say, I did all the work. Yes, I was pissed when you'd show up late, if at all, and when you'd just goof off with your friends, or flirt with other girls in our class while I toiled away at the assignment. Still, as much as I resisted it, becoming some giggly air-head around you, your charm and swagger won me over. I even giggled along when you teased me about my clothes, and my nerdy exterior, and it didn't take much flattery for me to take you up on the invite to come over and "study."*
*"Studying," as I found out later that day, consisted of me giving you head, then doing your homework for you. We "studied" three to four times a week, and as the months went on, there wasn't a hole of mine that you weren't familiar with. I didn't know I liked it rough until I met you, that I got a thrill out of being choked, slapped, spit on, having my hair pulled, gagging on your dick. I never thought I'd be the type of girl to be such a slut for anyone's cock, much less someone like you, but here I was.*
"Hey, babe..."
The sound of Mark's voice, and the touch of his hand on the small of my back, startled me.
"H-hey, babe... this is, um... Hunter... he just moved in next door..."
"Mark," he smiled, extending his hand.
I shivered the moment I saw the contrast of Hunter's giant, meaty paw swallow Mark's up like a python feasting on a mouse.
"Hunter..."
*Mark and I started off as friends, and met while you and I were going on. He was my study partner in a math class we were taking, and he and I actually did, indeed, study. He was short and skinny, but cute, nice, compassionate, and smart. He'd worked up the nerve to ask me out, melting into a sweaty mess before he finally invited me to dinner. Of course, I was too cock drunk and obsessed with you to think about anyone else, so I turned him down, telling him I didn't want to ruin our friendship. A few minutes later, I was on my knees in your apartment getting my throat fucked with my hands cuffed behind my back.*
*A few months later, after mid-terms, our bio lab ended, and everything came crashing to a halt. You stopped texting me. A few days later, after resisting the urge to become a clingy side piece, I finally caved and blew up your phone. I even showed up to your apartment, hoping to talk to you, but your roommates covered for you. Then it was Christmas break, and I finally tracked you down once the next semester began. You were unbothered by my tears, stoic in your stance that it was fun while it lasted, but that you'd moved on, leaving me a tear-streaked mess. That was it.*
*Mark's was one of the first shoulders I cried on. Of course, I left out the details, even your name, but told him everything, about how you treated me like shit and only wanted me for sex. He was consoling, sympathetic, and listened with sincerity and patience. As the months went by, we got closer, and I soon realized that I needed someone like him. Someone who cared about me for more than just my body.*
"Nice meeting you two... I gotta run, but I'm in 3455 if you need anything... and here's my number." Hunter pulled out a business card and handed it to Mark before walking away.
"Nice guy," Mark smiled.
"Yeah..."
I should have been relieved that he didn't remember me, as I wasn't proud of how low I'd stooped all those years ago, but I wasn't. I was angry. Sad. Confused. Jealous. How many girls had come along since me that turned me into just another faded notch on his belt, I wondered?
*I didn't think it could get worse after those few months you and I had spent together, but it did.*
*I still couldn't believe I did it. How a few months after Mark and I began officially dating, you texted me out of the blue, asking... no... telling me your girlfriend would be out of town that weekend, and to come over, as if nothing happened. How the anger I'd held for you for so long just disappeared, like a puff of smoke, and I didn't even hesitate in saying yes. How lied to Mark and told him I was going to the gym, only to race over to your off-campus apartment to get my brains fucked out for hours, into the night, while Mark was blowing up my phone, worried, wondering where I was. When I finally came home at 6am the next day, only after you told me to leave, I made up a flimsy excuse about stopping at a friend's house for a drink, and my phone died, and I didn't want to drive home drunk. Mark bought it, or at least didn't ask any questions, and that was that.*
*Three years later, Mark and I are engaged, planning our wedding that's supposed to happen in a few months, and even talking kids. We bought a condo together, in the same neighborhood that you just moved into.*
Your office, perched on the top floor of a gleaming skyscraper, overlooks the sprawling city below. This is your kingdom, or at least that's what you tell yourself whenever you manage to forget the small fact that your parents funded the entire enterprise. At thirty, you've achieved what most people only dream of: a billion-dollar empire, accolades from the business world, and a life of unparalleled luxury—all thanks to unparalleled hard work, financial acumen and a generous start-up loan from dear old Mom and Dad. Your penthouse, an architectural marvel, boasts floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the skyline, and a collection of rare art that would make any curator envious.
Yet, for all the success and wealth, your life feels like a gilded cage. The constant hum of the city below is a stark contrast to the silence that greets you each evening as you step into your lavish but empty home. You've poured everything into your career (with a little help from the family trust fund), pushing aside relationships and personal connections, telling yourself there would be time for that later. But later never came. Instead, you find yourself isolated, with only the cold comfort of your achievements to keep you company.
It wasn't always this way. There were brief flings and fleeting romances, but nothing ever lasted. You became adept at dodging questions about your personal life, crafting a veneer of contentment that hid the growing void inside. That is, until your parents called from their harbour-side mansion in Sydney. They were excited, voices bubbling over with joy. "The big wedding is next month," your mother said, "and we can't wait to meet your girlfriend!"
There was a pause on the line as your heart skipped a beat. In a moment of panic, you'd blurted out a lie. Yes, you had a girlfriend. Yes, she would come to the wedding. The happiness in your mother's voice was palpable, and you hung up feeling a sense of dread creeping in.
Days turned into weeks, and the lie loomed larger. Every attempt to meet someone new felt forced and unnatural. The idea of bringing a stranger to such an intimate family event was laughable. You knew you were running out of time and options.
That's when you found yourself, one late night, scrolling through high-end escort services. It was an indulgence, a desperate measure, but it seemed like the only solution. You needed someone who could seamlessly blend into your world, who could charm your family and play the part convincingly.
Her profile stood out immediately. She was charming, gorgeous, looked *great* in a dinner dress and was even somewhat educated. At least enough that you could lie and tell your family she went to law school or something. Making the call was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of your life. Explaining your situation felt both embarrassing and surreal, but the agency were professional and the arrangements were made swiftly.
So that's basically the story of how you wound up on the other side of the world, entrenched in family politics and old money drama, with an expensive and surprisingly well-spoken sex worker on your arm. May as well get your money's worth, right?
Yet, for all the success and wealth, your life feels like a gilded cage. The constant hum of the city below is a stark contrast to the silence that greets you each evening as you step into your lavish but empty home. You've poured everything into your career (with a little help from the family trust fund), pushing aside relationships and personal connections, telling yourself there would be time for that later. But later never came. Instead, you find yourself isolated, with only the cold comfort of your achievements to keep you company.
It wasn't always this way. There were brief flings and fleeting romances, but nothing ever lasted. You became adept at dodging questions about your personal life, crafting a veneer of contentment that hid the growing void inside. That is, until your parents called from their harbour-side mansion in Sydney. They were excited, voices bubbling over with joy. "The big wedding is next month," your mother said, "and we can't wait to meet your girlfriend!"
There was a pause on the line as your heart skipped a beat. In a moment of panic, you'd blurted out a lie. Yes, you had a girlfriend. Yes, she would come to the wedding. The happiness in your mother's voice was palpable, and you hung up feeling a sense of dread creeping in.
Days turned into weeks, and the lie loomed larger. Every attempt to meet someone new felt forced and unnatural. The idea of bringing a stranger to such an intimate family event was laughable. You knew you were running out of time and options.
That's when you found yourself, one late night, scrolling through high-end escort services. It was an indulgence, a desperate measure, but it seemed like the only solution. You needed someone who could seamlessly blend into your world, who could charm your family and play the part convincingly.
Her profile stood out immediately. She was charming, gorgeous, looked *great* in a dinner dress and was even somewhat educated. At least enough that you could lie and tell your family she went to law school or something. Making the call was one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of your life. Explaining your situation felt both embarrassing and surreal, but the agency were professional and the arrangements were made swiftly.
So that's basically the story of how you wound up on the other side of the world, entrenched in family politics and old money drama, with an expensive and surprisingly well-spoken sex worker on your arm. May as well get your money's worth, right?
Last edited: