Page 3 of The Tape Job
“Come on,” she says, pulling my arm lightly, and I follow like the lovesick fool that I am.
Vicky told me she hasn’t skated since I last took her, which was too long ago for me to recount when. She had a fall a few years back and is adamant that she’ll only skate with me. This makes me feel like I’m a fucking hero or something.
I skate a lot faster than her, but I slow my pace right down so she’s next to me. Our hands link automatically, just like when we were kids. We watch my brother and his girlfriend, Jenna, skating like a couple of kids too, giggling and chasing each other, similar to how Vicky and I were, always horsing around.
I take a chance and reach down, putting my right arm at the back of her knees and my left arm at the small of her back. I lift her up, and she squeals and kicks. But as soon as I’ve slung her over my shoulder, she lets up and giggles.
“You’re a doofus,” she chuckles, like the past year never happened.
I do a few laps at speed this time, and Vicky squeals with joy. It’s my favourite sound, and it breaks my heart that this temporary bubble we’re in will soon fucking pop and leave a horrible stain in its place. I skate over to the benches and sit her down.
“What the hell are we going to do, Vic?” I look down at her. I’ve got my serious face on. I’m not messing around this time.
“Pretend like I wasn’t a complete idiot? And the past, however many years, never happened?” she offers, her white teeth glinting like they’re out of a commercial.
“We could,” I lean into her, “but then I wouldn’t know all your dirty secrets.”
I’m not helping myself here. As soon as I’ve said it, I realise I’m approaching flirting territory, which has only intensified today after sleeping in Vicky’s bed last night. We only spooned, her body pressed against mine, but that made things a lot worse, in my opinion, because it was nice.
“What dirty secrets?” Vicky’s eyes widen. She’ll know by now that I’m horny for her. She’s like a fucking pill to me, and I can’t get enough.
I wink at her. “Don’t play dumb—”
“Do you still have the videos?” she asks, and I can feel my blood rush south.
“Maybe.” Of course I do. All of them. They’re locked away, but I have them.
“Do you still watch them?” She stands up and wobbles on her skates a bit, and our eyes lock—a glint of something naughty in her gaze.
“Maybe,” I choke.
“Are you done, love?”
That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time, but it sends a ripple of something through my body. Lust? No, it’s a lot more than lust.
She eyes me, biting her lip, still waiting for me to respond.
I clear my throat. “Sure.”
She sits back down, and I flop next to her, our knees touching, and then she reaches out and puts her manicured hand on my leg. Fuck.
She knows what she’s doing as her hand runs up and down my quad. She leans her head in, her breath catching directly on that golden spot on my neck. She wants me as much as I want her.
“Take your skates off and follow me,” she says, undoing her laces quickly. She works in silence like she’s in a race with herself, and I make headway with mine, pulling them off and reaching for my shoes underneath the bench.
I’m too weak to resist, even though I know it’s a terrible idea and I should be putting an end to all the heartbreak, but I want her too. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. My judgement is clouded by how turned on I am.
We put our shoes on and abandon the skates. Vicky pulls me, heading to the tunnels unfamiliar to me. Still, she clearlyknows where she’s going as she rounds the corner, heading to the end of the last corridor we come to. She pushes open the door labelled ‘Equipment Storage’ and pulls me inside. The only light in the room is from an emergency sign overhead, but it’s enough for her to see what she’s doing as she grabs an equipment box and pushes it against the door.
I pull her towards me, wanting to taste her, to feel her pressed up against me. Her mouth is on mine, and her hand reaches for my belt buckle. My cock is hard already, and she knows it’s her doing. It doesn’t take her long to pull the zip down, pop the button and slide her hand into my boxers.
“I’ve missed you,” she breathes, touching my neck with her lips.
She’s doing all the right things; I’ll give her that. She hasn’t forgotten. Nor have I.
She tugs at my jeans, pulls them down and then follows with my boxers. Her hands grip my shaft, and the long strokes drive me crazy with want.
“You gonna be a good girl and get your panties off for me?” I whisper. A voice in the back of my mind tells me this is a bad idea, but the thought of missing out, and with how delicious she smells—I can’t stop myself.
