21
Liesel
This is all a game.
A twisted.
Fucked up.
Evil game.
Langston may not realize how dangerous this game is yet, but he will soon.
I ride Waylon’s cock like I have an unhealthy level of love for him. My body pumps over his harder and faster; my eyes are wild with love and lust. I even let my eyes water a little. I haven’t cried in years, but this—seeing Langston next to me, pretending to hurt his wife while I pretend that fucking Waylon is my favorite thing in the world, makes me insane.
It pushes me to the edge of spilling my heart. To telling every rotten truth. To stop the lies between Langston and me. But if I did, we’d both be destroyed.
So I keep pretending. I like Waylon—truly, I do, but I don’t love him. I’m incapable of love.
Yet, by the way that Langston keeps shooting me dirty glances, it’s clear he believes I love the man whose cock is inside me.
Mission accomplished.
That was what I was supposed to do according to my card. Make Langston think I’m in love with Waylon. And I’m sure Langston’s told him to make me afraid of him.
I don’t really fear Langston any more than I did before we started, but still, I wince at every slap.
Maybe I’m lying to myself? Maybe I do fear Langston?
No, I’m just afraid of what will come next. I can’t be with Langston in that way…
Waylon moans, and I turn my attention back to him. I feel him close to coming. I rock my hips against him, pushing him closer to orgasm.
“Come with me, baby,” he says.
I smile at him and stroke his hair like his words are melting my heart.
I nod. “Together.”
Then I feel his warm cum inside me at the same time I yell out his name—faking an orgasm, something I’ve perfected over the years.
Once he’s done shooting cum into my body, I lean forward and kiss him tenderly on the lips.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“My pleasure. I love fucking you here where everyone is watching, knowing that you can have another man’s cock in you, but that you belong to me, no one else.”
“Yours,” I whisper against his lips.
I feel Langston’s hot stare on me. I hear his growl and the rough slapping of skin as he fucks Phoenix with everything he has. Every noise bites into me.
He’s taking out his frustration with me on Phoenix. And instead of feeling pity for the woman, I feel jealousy. I wish I were the one Langston was fucking that hard.
But my body and mind couldn’t handle it. Langston is too much for me. Maybe that’s why I chose Waylon—he’s safe.
I continue to kiss Waylon sweetly until our time is up. I’ve already completed my mission, and I’m just trying to focus on anything else except Langston going to town on Phoenix.
The slapping.