I reflect on how her green eyes looked when they locked with mine when she finally noticed my presence in the room. That moment filled with so much heat that I almost erupted on the spot. My stomach dropped, and I swear it fell directly into my pussy.
It took every bit of resistance not to touch myself while watching her.
I’ve known that I like both girls and boys for years. However, I preferred girls more after the Jerry and Old Greg experiences. I might have had a little crush on my best friend after a year of spending time with her.
I confirmed that I wanted her to be mine when I caught her fucking herself.
But how does one come out to their best friend and tell them, “Hey, I love you, and I fantasize about fucking you every day? I want to be more than friends?”
I think about her riding that pillow almost every night.
I glance out the window to the street below, squeezing my thighs to keep my wetness from further spilling. My clitoris is humming.
Chapter 3
Bradley coughs and interrupts my Charlotte-filled fantasies.
My eyebrows draw together, “So you guys got into a fight?”
“Yeah, but it's no big deal,” He stutters. “Charlie will come around. She always does.”
I know that it's a big deal because I know Charlotte. But I also know that Bradley's never deserved her, and I need a distraction right now. So brushing Charlotte off briskly, implying that breaking her heart meant nothing, sickens me. Her pain means nothing to Bradley. He will never change, not even for her.
Anger floods my system. My mind flashes back to those helpless years of being used and hurt by men like Bradley. The age was different, but that was where the differences ended. They were all the same. Ever since that last night back home, the night I ran away, I became someone different. I didn’t shy away from sex or pleasure. Instead, I sought it out and claimed it. I didn’t go around raping men. I devoured them all consensually while they begged me to. And then I broke their hearts and reputations.
Usually, I’d sink my teeth into another man for the evening for pleasure to distract me from my pain, but fucking Bradley could serve more than one purpose.
“My mom died,” I say, my voice void of emotion. It’s easiest not to feel pain if you pretend it isn’t there in the first place.
His face crumbles, and he's uncomfortable, “Shit, man, I don't even know what to say. Damn. I'm sorry.”
He tries to say some more sputtering mess, but I interrupt him, “You don't need to talk to me. Don't say anything. I needed Charlie, but I guess you'll do.”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“I said shut up,” I repeat, deep discontent within my voice.
“Just watchme,” I keep my eyes trained on his dark brown eyes.
I lick my lips, lean back into the sofa, and toss aside the yellow pillow. Placing my hands on my knees, I raise the skirt of my plain navy dress ever so slowly, deliberately taking as long as possible. Bradley’s fierce brown eyes scream confusion mixed with lust. He licks his lips. Once my skirt is up to where my panties should be, my fingers trail down to my knees.
After I ensure I have his full attention, I spread my thighs languidly as far as they go and as wide as possible. I'm not wearing any panties. He can see, and I can tell it's a huge surprise for him.
I take my fingers, and I place them in my mouth. I suck on my pointer finger while seductively looking at Bradley. Then, I cram another finger in my mouth, pushing my tongue out vulgarly licking them. Finally, I show him what he wants to see, the shit he has probably jacked off to a hundred times in front of his computer late at night. Once I have his attention and my fingers are wet enough to my liking, I take my hand and place it back on my mound.
Bradley sees I’m shaved bare down there. I know this is different from what he sees with Charlotte because I've seen Charlotte naked several times. She doesn't have much hair, but she does have a little landing strip of a path leading to her sweet lower lands. I’ve often dreamed about running my nose up and down that path of hair until I could taste her sweet nectar.
Thinking about Charlotte helps get me in the mood for the show I'm putting on for Bradley.
I arch my back purposefully and pant hard. I finger fuck myself like I never have before. Well, that's a lie, but I finger myself in a way that I'm sure Bradley has only experienced in virtual reality, not real life.
Charlie is too timid. It's part of the reason why I want her. She's the total opposite of me. Growing up, I never got enough attention, which isn’t a massive deal for ordinary girls. However, I’m not normal. So anytime I'm behind closed doors, I ensure I get my fill and am ready to be filled with Bradley.
I look at him, fluttering my lashes, “Do you like what you see, Bradley?”
He sputters, “What are you doing, Ella?”
I let the smile play across my face, “I think you know what I'm doing, Bradley. And better yet, I think you will like it. You like watching me touch myself. You like that I'm watching you while I do it.”