Page 44 of The Tape Job
My first year of college felt like the longest year of my life. Vicky was over 2,500 miles away in B.C., and I was in Boston, trying my hardest to get through my first year without her. Yeah, we video called every single day, and my college buddies always ripped into me. It wasn’t cool to start college as a taken man, apparently, but Vicky was it for me and we made it work.
Every other month, she would visit so we could maximise our time together, often spending it in bed when I wasn’t playing hockey. Not always fucking—often just talking, watching crappy movies, just being together. It was bliss. We were so happy for that entire weekend, and we were even happier when she started at Boston U a year after me.
One thing that kept us going during our time apart was exchanging videos in response to each other. It had started as phone sex, but then she surprised me by sending me a video I could watch over and over again—it was only fair that I returned the favour. I still have the videos, and I believe she still has mine as well.
I’m lying in bed, horny and frustrated. I’ve spent all morning at the gym picturing Vicky in those yoga pants she used to wear, working out alongside me just like she used to do. It’s as if she used to bend over on purpose, trying to get a reaction. And now all I want is for her to sink down onto my dick and ride me, but I’ll have to make do with one of those old videos.
I navigate to my special Vicky folder and tap the password in before that voice in my head tells me I’m a complete chump for even going there. So, instead, I pull up some site Danny sent me the link to and flick through, aimlessly looking for something to catch my eye, but nothing does. I’ve never been big into porn since I didn’t need it, and I can’t help but think of how different these women are from Vicky. I end up tossing my phone down on the bed and screaming into a pillow as I hold it over my face.
Deep breath.
I go for a run around the block to calm myself down, but when I’m taking a shower afterward, my mind is running over a memory I have of Vicky in my damn shower in Toronto. She sunk to her knees, and the rest was a fog. And now my brain is working into overdrive, trying to remember the scene as if it was happening again right in front of me. But all that’s actually in front of me is my throbbing dick; and there’s nothing else for it.
I grab a towel and step back into my bedroom, drying off quickly before collapsing down on my bed. I grab my phone and navigate to that folder, searching through the files for my favourite clip. The file downloads from the cloud and I tap it, giving it a few seconds to load, but the anticipation causes my dick to leak pre-come. I give it a squeeze, then a few strokes as Vicky fills the screen of my phone.
I watch as she moves the camera, showing me her beautiful pink nipples and giving them a pinch, before she pans down, flashing me a view of some red lace panties, her hand rubbing herself over the material. I know which panties those are because they’re tucked away in the back of my closet. I briefly contemplate fetching them, but I’m too captivated by the video to break away.
She’s still teasing herself over the fabric, and I can definitely spot a damp patch. Then she slips them to the side, showing me her pussy, bare bar a landing strip thatshe knows I love. It’s fucking glorious and my mouth waters. She’s glistening with wetness. She slips her middle finger into herself, pumping a few times before retracting it and spreading herself to show me her clit.
What I’d give to bury my face in there, right now.
I grasp my dick and watch Vicky circle around her clit with her middle finger. I grip my shaft and give myself big, long strokes, trying to imagine that it’s her doing it. Only a few, before I get the lube out and add a few squirts of that, trying to imagine that smoothness is the feel of her pussy, not my own fist.
She keeps circling, never directly touching her clit, and she’s whispering about the video she’s watching—it’s one of me jerking off. She’s talking about how much she wants to be giving my balls a gentle tug as she strokes the head of my dick and how much she wants me to unload over her pussy. Before long, she’s telling me she’s getting close.
Video Vicky immediately stops and waits a moment before resuming her play. She’s teasing herself just like I like her too, so she’s begging me to let her come, not that I ever stop her.
She does this twice more before she tells me she can’t hold back. She’s panting as she comes, moans rippling through the audio, matching my own as I come over my stomach. It’s erotic as fuck, and I can’t take my eyes off the clip as she sucks her fingers clean. I watch as she blows me a kiss before turning the camera off.
The post-orgasm fog clears, and embarrassment sets in. I feel like such a loser, jacking off to old videos of my ex-girlfriend. But in my defence, nothing else seems to get me there, and I was desperate for release. I may not want my heart broken again, but that doesn’t stop me from being intoxicated by her. And not to mention, incredibly turned on by everything she does. That’s going to be difficult to shake.
My phone rings as I’m cleaning up, and it’s a number I don’t recognise—I let it ring off. The entire sequencehappens twice more before Vicky’s name flashes up on the screen. But my heart hammers: does she know what I’ve been doing? Fuck, I didn’t think this through. Would she detect it just from my voice? I pause briefly before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Lee. Sorry to bother you. Bella’s trying to get in touch with you about arranging a good time to mic you up.” Vicky coughs for impact.
“Right. Whenever,” I say bluntly, attempting not to give anything away.
“I’ll put it down for next practice, then.”
I can tell by her voice she’s not sounding good. Nothing to do with fake illness, though, and I make a split-second decision to press her.
“You okay, Vic? Aside from your, um, flu.”
“Yeah, fine,” she lies.
“How are things with your dad?” I ask.
She sighs. “He’s due out here in a few weeks. He’s pushing it back, thankfully, but he’s bringing his new girlfriend.”
“Johnny mentioned something about it,” I tell her, “Vic, I know you said you wanted me to keep my distance, but I’m always here for you, okay?” I curse myself as soon as I’ve said it. I don’t want her assuming I’ll always rush to her aid, even though I would—I just don’t want her aware of it.
“Thanks, Lee,” she says, “and thanks again for the muffin.”
We’re silent for a moment, then I hear whispering on the other end of the line before Vicky’s voice hits my ear again.
“Jen asked if Ryan is there or if he’s still at Johnny’s?”
