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(Note: this story is the third in a continuing series, and is woven in very closely with Awakening Ch.s 1 an hour earlier I was topless, on my knees, and exhibiting the sluttiest behavior ever. Suddenly I’m modest again. Go figure.
I’m alone in the room that served as the scene of the crime a while ago. The energy is gone. It’s serene and peaceful. Such sexual chaos then. Suddenly, normal life now. The only sound is gentle afternoon traffic outside the open window, which also allows a breeze which cools my moist skin and wet hair.
I close my eyes for a moment.
…Dean’s reassuring smiles and nods. Stevie closing his eyes and surrendering to bliss. My knees aching from the hard floor. The THUMP of cum shooting into my hair. The smell of sex. The early afternoon light glistening off his sweaty face and neck. The power rush of having two hot guys entirely focused on me….
But….did I fuck up? Should I have taken that chance with Stevie? He never even touched me, but I’m still not sure if what we did qualifies as him cheating on Robyn with me or not – beautiful, aloof, insanely hot, but prudish Robyn. But he never even touched me.
Right afterwards, I felt proud, empowered, generous – happy. Was that just endorphins, or a sex high? Just a distraction from life? Is this fear, depression, sadness, guilt….shame? All of them?
I have my blue sarong and my black dance flats in one hand now, but where the hell is my boho blouse and my bra? My Ankara headband is also nowhere to be seen. I’m a blond New Englander of preppy lineage, by the way, but I dress world. The irony is not lost on me – I’m one of “them”. But I’m also a musician so fuck you all.
….Dean patiently waiting for me to deal with Stevie before cumming himself. The look in Stevie’s eyes when I started rubbing Dean’s thighs. That moment when I closed my eyes and got lost in the experience of a mouth full of cock….
Ok, there’s the blouse, and I think the bra. On the floor, near the chair where Stevie got an education about women and life. From nineteen year old blond girl-next-door preppy lineage me.
….finishing up with Dean’s eruption and then scrambling to crawl over into position in front of Stevie before he erupts. Shedding my top and bra in one quick motion as if they had just burst into flames. Getting into position at Stevie’s feet just in the nick of time….all the while spewing naughty language to heighten his excitement…
Dean is taking his turn in the shower now, and Stevie seemed to be in a hurry to get back to Robyn, so he is gone. I hope like hell he’s not in a hurry to confess. He’s been so moody and unpredictable. God knows what’s going through his mind or what he might do when he comes to his senses.
….My pussy on fire and soaked. Wishing I could take a second to touch myself. My blouse snagging on my hard left nipple as I rush to get naked for Stevie….
I scoop up the blouse. The headband falls to the floor. I guess that got caught up in the chaos too. There’s my bra under the blouse. I scoop that up too and, oh there’s my phone.
Wait. My phone’s on the coffee table where I set it when I suspected things were about to get a little crazy.
I pick the orphaned phone up, press the home button and am immediately assaulted by the lock screen – a full screen color image of gorgeous Stevie and beautiful Robyn – with her amazing hair, baby blues, and 1000 watt smile. Stevie’s wearing a white tux shirt, loosened black bowtie, black vest and is smiling joyously. He’s a little sweaty. She looks amazing as always, tanned in a strapless navy party dress, and she’s looking at Stevie with a wide toothy smile. 1000 watts.
It’s a candid shot taken by someone who loves them, at some kind of celebration – maybe a wedding? – and they are clearly having a great time. You can tell from the photo that she adores him, and that he’s so proud to have her on his arm.
Did I fuck that up? Have I broken up the perfect couple? Did I lead him to cheat? Is what we did cheating? Am I a “home-wrecker”? It didn’t feel that way earlier…..I was only trying to help…
I look back down at them. Not only are they both insanely hot, but they also seem to have each found their soulmates in the other, or at least that’s what the image implies.
Or have they? Stevie’s seemed really confused for a while now, and Robyn’s been nowhere to be seen lately – I hear she’s spending a lot of time with her (also hot) gal friends.
That rift is what I was trying to help fix with my plain talk to Stevie today, and then my demonstration of it with Dean for him. I felt like Mother Theresa earlier, so willing to help. Did I go too far? Maybe I should have Göztepe Escort just stuck to talking? Or kept my mouth shut, for once.
I open the bathroom door and stick my head into the steam and heat. I momentarily consider surprising Dean with a quick suck job while sitting on the edge of the shower surround. I decide not to. Maybe I’ve caused enough trouble for one day. Plus, it might take a while, given that he just came not that long ago, and I don’t know if I wanna spend any more of my time making guys cum today.
“YO DEAN – STEVIE LEFT HIS PHONE – YOU GOTTA BRING IT BACK TO HIM.”, I yell over the sound of the shower.
“NO CAN DO, BABY GIRL…” he responds, “WORK JUST TEXTED AND I HAVE TO GET MY ASS OVER THERE ASAP”
“OH COME ON, DEAN – JUST DROP IT ON THE WAY…PULL-EEEZZE”
“TELLIN YA, I CANT, KIMMY. SOME SHIT’S GOING DOWN – I GOTTA GET OVER THERE ASAP”
“DEAN, I CAN’T GO OVER THERE – WHAT IF ROBYN’S THERE? – AFTER WHAT JUST HAPPENED?”
He stuck his head out through the curtain. “Just leave it on the table. I’ll bring it over to him tomorrow.” He glanced down for a peek at my tits. The towel had slipped to my waist.
“OMG – thanks, you’re my hero.” I replied.
I slip into my bra, then my Sarong, then the blouse, then the headband, then the flats. Good news. -the blouse, bra and headband somehow escaped the cum tempest. Safe to wear.
Not the panties, though. Definitely not the panties. They are a soggy lost cause because of earlier. Pussy juice in the heat of the moment is exciting. Two-hour old room temperature pussy juice is not. Into the kitchen trash can they go, only because there’s not a toxic waste dump nearby. No panties for me today. After what had happened earlier, going panty-less will be pretty low-level slut behavior. This is not kink – it’s practicality.
God, was I on fire this morning….
I pick up Stevie’s phone. I can’t keep my thumb from pressing the home button again. Again, I’m assaulted: but voluntarily this time.
…she adores him, and he’s so proud to have her on his arm….
I think it over a little. The phone, that is.
I’m nineteen and I can tell you that there’s no way any twenty year old can get his phone back “tomorrow”. I’ve got to get this over to him today, or he’ll go nuts nuts nuts til he gets it back.
I’ve gotta steel my nerves, head over to their apartment, and let the chips fall where they may.
If I want to talk about being a fearless “femi-warrior” in my music, I guess should actually try it in real life. Maybe Robyns not there. I hope I hope I hope.
It’s a a gorgeous sunny day. It should be spent outside in nature, not sucking guys off inside and letting them cum on you. Of course, I guess you could always suck a guy off outside too.
It’s a short walk over there, so off I go. My walking pace is leisurely, my thinking pace is still manic.
….The perfect couple.. I went too far. Am I using Dean? Is this an ego boost cuz Stevie is so hot? Was I subconsciously trying to steal Stevie away from Robyn? Do I need professional help?…
OMG – Is my pussy still wet? Even after the shower? Thinking about my pussy possibly being wet reminds me of what happened earlier; remembering that scene makes my pussy wet all over again.
….Everyone else in the room got to cum this morning except for me….
I turn up the walk to their first floor apartment and stop dead in my tracks.
Oh my mother-fucking God. Holy fucking shit…
How many times had I jacked….er…jilled myself off to this? Only, what I had imagined in my mind while masturbating was nowhere near as hot as what I was now seeing….
Fifteen feet away from me was naked Stevie and mostly naked Robyn. There was sweat running down Stevie’s muscular shoulders and back. Tan line just above his ass, his tight ass and strong tan legs. I couldn’t fully see Robyn’s face behind him, but that was definitely her – you couldn’t mistake her thick chestnut hair and broad Jayne Mansfield hips, even though they were mostly concealed by jeans now. With cuffs rolled up mid-calf. Fuck. And those bare feet. Even this bitch’s feet are beautiful. Perfect.
For some reason the shades are not drawn. For some reason, Robyn is on her back, I think topless, on the kitchen table. The gorgeous perfect midcentury teak table she got from her gorgeous perfect mom.
Stevie is standing at the side of the table looking down at her, running his fingers lovingly through her hair. Considering where her face appears to be, and where he is standing – um – does she have his cock in her mouth? It looks like his beautiful cock might be in her beautiful perfect mouth.
….running İstanbul Escort hIs fingers lovingly through her hair….
Sex is hot. Loving sex is insanely hot. What I’m seeing is loving sex. It’s insanely hot
OH God, another pussy gush for me. This time with no panties. I’m horny all over again.
Wasn’t Stevie just three hours ago lamenting the fact that Robyn refused to blow him? Wasn’t that what today was all about? Wasn’t my empathy for his situation and my desire to help him the reason I became his temporary slut earlier? His temporary slut?!? Didn’t I perform for him, the show of his life, because she supposedly refuses to blow him, and I felt bad for him? But I’m sure she’s blowing him now. So fucking hot.
….running hIs fingers lovingly through her hair….
Didn’t I tell Stevie that I “liked Robyn and wanted to help him find release, so that he wouldn’t cheat on her, or break up with her”? Didn’t I let him cum all over me because of that? Because she wouldn’t suck him off?
Oh man, seeing this is making me really really horny all over again…
Didn’t I set boundaries, and make it clear that he wasn’t to touch me or try anything, because I “didn’t want to hurt Robyn in that way”? And because she wouldn’t suck him off?
What. The. Fuck.
Has he been lying all along? Guy head-games? Take advantage of the dumb slut? Did Dean tell him that I was sucking his dick regularly, then Stevie decided to see if he could get a “pity suck” from me? From the “dumb slut”? Or at least a free show? Am I a naive fool? Am I a naive slut? Am I a slut?
I’m really, really horny.
But he never tried anything, in fact I practically had to twist his arm to get him to stroke his own cock, and he desperately asked me not to look while he did it. He never reached out to touch me, although I was an arm’s length away and topless, and despite my bold talk, I probably would have let him…
And what about Robyn? Is the prude uptight shit just an act? Does she really suck cock like me, but claim otherwise to protect her “good girl” reputation? Is she a slut – just like me? Am I a slut? I thought I was just a nice girl with a little bit of slut in me? Maybe, I’m just a garden variety slut after all. Maybe that’s all a woman can ever be – despite accomplishments, despite fame, despite delusions of integrity, deep down maybe we’re all just dumb sluts….
….running hIs fingers lovingly through her hair….
No-one is forcing her, that’s obvious. I can’t actually see a cock in her mouth, but I know enough about sucking cock to know that that’s what I’m seeing. She is sucking his cock and he is….running hIs fingers lovingly through her hair….while she sucks his cock….like a slut. The most beautiful slut in the history of the world. A goddess slut.
I desperately want to get my phone out and get a photo or video – for my use later. But I can’t risk missing even a second of this hot, beautiful scene….can I get away with putting my hand up the sarong to touch my pussy? There’s no-one really around…
Don’t be crazy, bitch…but maybe….
Then her eyes, suddenly….Robyns beautiful blue eyes. I can’t see the blue from here, but I know it’s there…..
OH SHIT – SHE’S LOOKING DIRECTLY AT ME…
OH FUCK OH FUCK – NOW HE’S TURNING TO LOOK AT ME TOO!
I freeze, trying to will myself invisible.
NOW HE’S COMING TOWARDS THE WINDOW…..TOWARDS ME…I’M FUCKED….THEY SEE ME….HER BEAUTIFUL FACE NOW LOOKING THIS WAY..
OH FUCK OH FUCK…
Smiling and relaxed, saying something over his shoulder to her, Stevie pulls the shade down. What the fuck just happened?
PING, Suddenly, my phone…
I move over to the neighbors stoop and sit down before I pass out from horny. Only the sarong separates my bare soaked pussy from the cold concrete. I feel the cold against the hot of my pussy.
Yo gurl – I’m free now – can you meet me at Taffy’s asap
It’s a text from Lopsy, A.k.a. Lopsy Lu. A.k.a.. Amanda. Amanda Smith. But she’s not an Amanda, she’s definitely a Lopsy. She walks like a Lopsy. “Lopsy” from bassist Stanley Clarke’s epic 1974 bass album “Stanley Clarke”. Lopsy Lu – the best bass song on the best bass album ever. The best title a bass song could ever have. Only serious music geeks know that. You do too, now. Listen to that song and you’ll automatically know how she walks, then when you see her walk, you’ll go “yup, she’s definitely not an Amanda, she’s a Lopsy for sure.
Hey Lopsy. c u there, I respond.
Lopsy’s finally responded to this morning’s text. She takes her time. With everything.
I start down the street. It’s not far.
Lopsy is big. Anadolu Yakası Escort Everything about her is big. Her hair, her hips, her smile, her laugh, her talent, her presence. Ironically, her hands are not big. They are beautiful, delicate, slender and precious. Feminine. That’s ironic because she’s a bass player – one I’ve been trying to get to work on my latest project, and apparently she’s interested.
That’s where Lopsy came from, by the way, the song.
In middle school she fell in love with bass instead of boys, like the rest of us. Instead of her first name with her crush’s last name like when she’s married to him eventually, she covered her brown paper book-covers with “Lopsy Lu” in fancy script after hearing that track and trying to play it with her 14 year old precious hands. Other kids saw her book-covers and tried to punish her for being unique by calling her “Lopsy Lou”. They couldn’t even spell it right.
It backfired. Instead of shame, she felt love. How loving of them to make her name the same as her favorite song. She loved being Lopsy. It didn’t take long for everyone to start calling her that. After all, we all knew she was destined to be Lopsy. Even her parents abandoned Amanda for Lopsy. They’d tried their best and she was a decent Amanda, but it was temporary. She could be nothing other than Lopsy. The mean kids didn’t realize God was using them so that she could meet her destiny. The universe is mysterious and things always work out exactly as they should – Lopsy is living proof of that.
She’s twice my age, by the way, but seems younger than me in spirit. She’s a beautiful delicious mocha color. I want to just eat her up. Not that way, silly, I like boys….
In Taffy’s, it takes my eyes a moment for my eyes to adjust. Umm…the comforting smell of coffee. I need coffee after the day I’ve had. Good coffee. I realize I’m still wearing my sunglasses. P-funk on the house system. I love Taffy’s. Crazy shit from the 70s on the walls. Lazily floating ceiling fan. I take the sunglasses off.
“YO GIRL, YO OVER HERE OVER HERE”
I look up and there’s Lopsy, holding court with Taffy. Taffy’s also big, but former division l linebacker big. Six-feet-two. 210ish. His shoulders as wide as he is tall, it seems. He’s testosterone big as opposed to Lopsy’s estrogen big. Taffy and Lopsy. Great name for a comedy team. They’d make a great comedy team, on one of those shows like Sonny and Cher or Flip Wilson used to have in the 70s. The Lopsy and Taffy Comedy Hour. They wouldn’t even have to change wardrobe or hair styles. They are pure 70s. Like the Stanley Clarke album.
Taffy really was a division l linebacker 15 years ago for USC. Mighta gone pro but his heart wasn’t in it. He was Cornell then. He didn’t want to be Cornell any more. He wanted to be Taffy.
He’s wearing a yellow floral wrap skirt with a bright red tight wife-beater. But he’d never beat a wife. He’d beat your ass if you ever did. Beads and earrings. But nobody challenges him on his wardrobe selections. No-one. Chuck Norris wouldn’t challenge him.
“Hey K – medium Capp with oat milk?” He asks in a flirty voice that doesn’t fit his presence.
I nod. He knows what I like. Too confused to speak a response..
“So what’s up girl how you been – oh – you don’t look so good Baby you look like shit you been crying?” She talks like that. No punctuation. Her big brown eyes tell me that I really do look like shit. I was supposed to be happy and empowered after this morning. And had I been crying? I wasn’t sure.
….running hIs fingers lovingly through her hair….
I’d given blowjobs with hair-pulling, blowjobs that resulted in my hair full of cum, blowjobs with my hair down, my hair in a ponytail…but never with fingers running lovingly through my hair…
“Oh, I’m ok…” I lied, “just feeling a little blue today.”
She read me. “Bullshit” she said. “Well I’d love to be your personal shrink today baby but I don’t have long before a session can I come over tonight so we can take a look at the charts and get this thing going, say Seven?”
“Seven” I repeated
She lopsys her way out the door.
I look down into my cappuccino. A heart. A fuckin heart. In the foam. Today of all days. I look up and Taffy blows me a kiss from the counter. I smile back despite myself.
I spend another hour spinning inside. Sitting with my capp.
It’s been long enough now, they should be done by now. You can only suck a guy for so long before your mouth starts hurting. He already came once this morning, so it would take longer the second time, but by by now he either came again or she needs a rest. I know all about sucking cock. I like guys,
I head back over to Stevies. And Robyns.
PING.
YO SLUT – GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE NOW
The text screamed that out, right in my face.
I looked at my phone again.
Yes, that’s what it says, and yes, it’s definitely from Robyn. Uh-oh
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