Chapter Seven
Myfingerstwitchedabovethe keyboard. The box for the new message stood empty, staring at me with nothing but the proxy email generated by the website that hosted my ad. I picked at my lip nervously. I didn’t know his name, or anything about him other than what he told me, and the fact he liked to go to the library. The nerves rolled inside me as I considered how little I knew about this man and how much I needed him back in my life.
I plucked out a few words and quickly erased them. I had already gotten the sentiment wrong a multitude of times, each apology more anticlimactic than the last. He deserved so much better than the nothing I gave him, and if he already moved on, that would be more than fair. I hoped he was angry with me. There was still a chance for us if he was angry, but if I simply killed his interest in me, that was another story. I couldn’t fault him for it, but God, would the rejection hurt. I pressed my face into my hands, exhaling hard, then blew a raspberry against my palms. This was the only chance I had to get him back.
Hey Stranger,
I'm sorry I've been a ghost lately. I would have started out with a picture of my titties to soften you up, but I feared you'd find it patronizing. In all seriousness, things have not been easy for me. I lost my job through some elaborate ridiculousness. Now, I'm unemployed and too pitiful to be dejected further. I don't blame you if you moved on. Please let me down gently.
-Very Sorry
He didn’t answer me at all that first day. An overwhelming part of me feared he never would, and I prepared myself for the pain of his rejection. The other part—much smaller, and unfamiliarly optimistic—sensed he wasn’t far away. In the nearly two months since I first spoke to him, I felt oddly aligned with him. It could be the fact that he kept writing to me when I said nothing in response. Somehow, that alone didn’t seem like enough of an explanation. My life seemed tied to his in a way I didn’t understand. I couldn’t let him go without trying.
The following day, I stayed dressed in my pajamas, eating junk food and staring listlessly at the TV. The shampoo commercial and the sexy sudsy actor I loved so much were both replaced by a bouncy, beachy blonde. “Nothing good ever lasts,” I told the gorgeous supermodel as she washed her hair and skipped down a city street.
Each time the ding sounded, my heart jumped into my throat, and then the disappointment crushed me. I unsubscribed to every mailing list I could find and still more arrived. I was so angry with them for playing with my emotions that I made a note of companies I would never buy from again. Heaving myself off the couch, I went for a walk around the block to breathe some fresh air and sense into my brain. None of these massive corporations gave a crap if I bought from them or not, and I was a sucker for coupons.
That night I lay in my bed, not tired enough to sleep, and lacking the energy to get up and do something productive. The email notification went off, and I ignored it. I received so many that were not from him, and the cycle of excitement and disappointment exhausted me emotionally. I stared at the ceiling, trying to distract myself by counting the peaks of the hideous water-stained stucco. When I got to two hundred and the thrumming in my heart still didn’t ease, I opened my phone to check who it was. The subject line read “I thought about it.”
This was it, he was telling me no. He was finished with me and I couldn’t blame him for his choice. I gripped helplessly at my chest, trying to coax my lungs into drawing steady breaths. Passing out would not be the worst thing in the world considering I was already laying down in my soft bed. I fought against the spots of light blooming in my vision, even if unconsciousness was more appealing than reading the words that would sever us and our budding connection. I fumbled with the phone, getting the email open.
Titties are never patronizing.
I laughed out loud. The sound came out more like a shout as the intense relief surged through me. Hopping out of my bed as if sleep was never a consideration, I pulled off my shirt and made my way over to my full-length mirror. A frenzied light shined in the back of my eyes, making me appear wild, but he didn’t need to see my face. My hands adjusted my breasts, ensuring they looked round and pert. I pinched my nipples to make sure they puckered for him, but they were already hard from the excitement. I glared at the random crap caked on the glass and decided against taking a mirror selfie.
I flipped my phone’s camera to front-facing as I admired the pinkish-brown cast to my nipples. My breasts were always one of my favorite assets, and I was particularly fond of them now as I thought of my friend’s cock hardening while looking at them. I took a few pictures of myself, including nothing but my inviting lips pushed into an exaggerated pout and my breasts, which I surreptitiously squished between my arms. I sorted through the pictures, choosing the softest and poutiest, and then sent it to him.
I went back to laying in my bed, not bothering with the shirt. Talking to him always made me feel sexy and uninhibited. I stroked my nipples gently with one hand and ran the other along the lacy tops of my panties, imagining his hands on me. My eyes fell shut as I imagined his flawless face the moment he opened the pictures, his lush tongue darting out to wet his lips. My fingers drifted closer to their destination, but the ping of my email interrupted the movement.
Before I become too enthralled with the most perfect breasts I have ever seen, I need some answers. First, why were you fired? I'm sorry that happened, unless you burned the place down or something, in which case, you deserved it. Though, I have a penchant for destructive behavior and debauchery. So, it’s possible I could be okay with it.
Second, what does being let go have to do with the last month or so? Why haven't you answered any of my emails, especially the one where I wanted to know if you were okay? Third, you are too tempting and I forgot my final point.
-Tossed Out and Turned On
The emotions surging through me were more complex than I was used to dealing with. My body pleasing him satisfied me in a way I couldn’t justify to myself. His praise lit me up as if he was the only person whose opinion mattered. The intensity of it frightened me. Anger followed right behind it as I reread the words suggesting me losing the job was my fault.
He didn’t understand the circumstances, and his assumption stung. Most of the time people get fired because they did something wrong, but in this situation, I was the one who’d been wronged. It hurt me that he didn’t assume this was the case. What I really wanted was for him to respond with anger on my behalf, to defend me against the baseless accusations hurled at me. Truthfully, it was my outburst that got me fired, but the rest of the situation was not my fault. He should know me better than that, even if I didn’t give him a fair opportunity to. I breathed out a sigh as my anger faded.Now, how am I going to explain to him the reason he doesn’t know me better?
I went for a meal with a male coworker, stupid—I know. He was horrible. I faked having a stomach bug if that gives you any idea how awful it was. The perfect gentleman lied to the entire office and told them all I fucked him on my couch before he could take me out. In his version of events, he begged to at least buy me dinner first, but my raging, slutty lust for him would not be denied.
To put it mildly, people were mistreating me. I asked my boss for help and she informed me she couldn't do anything. I snapped and screamed at all of them, then walked out. Going back was the last of my plans, but my boss followed me out to fire me anyway. It might not sound very important, but it was hard on me. I miss you, and I'm sorry for not answering you.
-Tits Out and Turned On
I flopped on my pillows, letting my limbs sprawl out. I was truly tired. The anxiety burned itself out and the rest of my energy went along with it. Why did he answer me only now when I waited for him all day? Leave it to him to disturb my patterns and turn my life upside down. I prepared myself for the possibility that he wouldn’t believe me, just like my coworkers.
Hell, the way we started speaking to one another said little in my defense. I had asked the dregs of the internet for a random hook-up. He likely assumed he was one of many. He probably thought I was a slut too. The way I built him up in my mind could surely backfire on me, or outright bite me in the ass.Ping.
That is terrible. I am so sorry that happened to you. As for not answering me, forget about it, I have. I missed you too. I think you are the only person I've ever met who hasn't bored me for a single second. The scene you described sounds true to form. I would pay good money to watch you in all your glory, defending yourself against people who would treat you less than you deserve. You really are something special, aren't you?
Part of me is ready to demand we end this now. I want to look into your beautiful brown eyes and see that sweet bewilderment as I stand above you. I could make your perfect cheeks flame hotter than they did when I helped you with your dick pics. Talking to you in person without you running from me is too delicious to resist. Though I must admit, running from me may be in your best interest.
Your mind and body serve as a constant temptation, teasing me when you're not even near. I can do things to you that no other man ever could, and I would never talk about them to another soul. The very least you deserve is respect and discretion, but I'd be happy to give you so much more.
The other part of me craves the mystery of it all. I want you in a way I've never wanted another person, but this thing between us feels supernatural. You tell me, where do we go from here?
-Twisted Up and Turned On