Page 20 of Beautiful Desire
And at this point, I’m far too drunk on lust and the fantasy to want to.
In fact, I relish it as I imagine Fletcher sauntering into my room and over to the end of the bed, nothing but a pair of graysweatpants slung low on his hips and a layer of sweat covering his muscles like he just got home from the gym. He climbs on the bed, crawling over to where I’m spread open for him, gaze hungry and locked in on the way my pussy takes the dildo. Shoving the sweatpants down and tucking them under his balls, he pushes my hand away and removes the dildo—all without saying a fucking word, because thisisa fantasy, after all—before sinking his meaty cock to the hilt.
Fuck, fuck…
Arching my back off the bed, I continue to fuck myself with the toy, switching to deep, shallow strokes, while bringing my other hand to my clit at the same time, using my fingers to make quick, firm circles against the sensitive bud. As my hot, sweaty stepbrother continues to pound my pussy behind my closed eyelids, I bite down on my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. I need to keep it down, but the pleasure from this fantasy and these toys is making it hard to remember that as my head swims with lust and my heart pounds against my ribs.
Pressure builds, starting deep in my core and shooting throughout my entire body like an array of fireworks while heat spreads low in my stomach, the pleasure increasing until it feels like I can’t breathe. Beads of sweat line my brow and the back of my neck, chest heaving with shallow, gasping breaths, and as I picture Fletcher bringing his hand up to his mouth and wetting his fingers with the flat of his tongue before he drags his wild gaze up to meet mine, I can’t hold on any longer.
Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, my toes curl as my release climbs higher and higher until I’mright fucking there, and when I picture Fletcher’s mouth twisting into that cocky, dimply smirk I can’t fucking stand, I lose it, falling into euphoric bliss. My clit pulses under my fingers, and when I remove the toy from my cunt, the dam breaks, fluid gushing from me as I cry out. Oncethe final wave hits me, I sink deeper into the mattress, my bones like Jell-O as I catch my breath.
A couple of minutes pass, and I know I need to get up and clean the toy before putting it away, but as I sit up to do so, I feel the cool, wet spot beneath my ass, and just like that…reality hits me like a ton of fucking bricks.
“Fuck me,” I curse as I rip off the bedding Ijustwashed and toss it on the floor in a pile. Thankfully, it didn’t soak through to the mattress since I keep a waterproof protector on at all times for this very reason. After I retrieve a fresh set of bedding from my closet, I quickly make the bed, then clean the toy and decide to make the dirty sheets tomorrow’s problem.
Nothing like a little post-nut clarity to sober a person right up.
9
Georgia
“Hold up, wait a damn minute.” Charley scoots to the edge of the couch and grabs her glass, guzzling what’s left of it before she stands and says, “More wine.”
I huff out a small chuckle as I stand. Swiping my nearly empty glass off the table, I finish it off as I follow my best friend into the kitchen. It’s Friday night, and it’s been a hell of a week, so this girl time is much needed.
“Where’s he at anyway?” Charley asks. Setting her glass on the counter, she reaches for the bottle of red next to the stove before glancing over at me. “Do we have another? This one’s almost gone.”
“Yeah, I’ll grab it.” I nod. “He’s studying at the library for a few hours, then going to the gym, I think.”
It’s been a couple of days since the dick pic incident, and I’ve been silently freaking out about it ever since. Because of our conflicting schedules, the only time I’ve had to really see him since then has been at the store. Which has been nice sinceit’s easier to keep my distance when I’m focused on work. And distance isdefinitelywhat I want. I’m rarely ever an avoidant person, since confrontation isn’t something I struggle with, so hiding from my issues isn’t typically my go-to method, but this situation issovery different. I went back and forth with myself about whether I should tell Charley what happened, but I knew my head was going to explode if I didn’t get it off my chest. I usually always go to her and my sisters with everything—venting, advice, just needing a laugh—but there’s no way in hell I could tell my sisters about this—not with Fletcher being ourstepbrother.
Not only am I pissed at myself for allowing Fletcher to get under my skin, but also, more than that, I’m honestly a little ashamed about the reaction I had to the picture. It’s like I wasn’t in control of my own body, like my brain and vagina were on two completely different wavelengths. Because Iknowhad I been thinking clearly, had I not been completely driven by this blinding lust, there’s no way I would’ve done what I did. And what pisses me off the most, and what I keep going back to is,I don’t even fucking like him. Genuinely, I cannot stand being around him, because seeing his smug little rich boy face does nothing but remind me of the shitty situation I’m now in because of him and his father. So, how thefuckdid I get so turned on?Whywould seeing that turn me on?
“Damn, the gym this late at night.” She snorts. “I’d hate that.”
After I fetch another bottle of red from above the refrigerator, I hand it to Charley before grabbing the wine opener from the drawer and passing it to her. “Fletcher would live at the gym if he could, I swear.”
Charley pours on the heavy side, then hands me a nearly full refill as she rests her hip against the counter. “This iswild, Georg.” Huffing a laugh, she eyes me from above her glass beforetaking a sip. There’s a twinkle in her ice-blue eyes before she adds, “But, like, it kinda makes me horny at the same time.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn around and walk out of the kitchen and back into the living room. “This shouldn’t make you horny, Char.” I groan as I plop down in the chair, then take alargesip. “You need to tell me how stupid and inappropriate this is.”
Charly drops down on the couch and sets her glass on the table, glancing at me with an amused curl to her lip. “But why would I do that?”
“Uh, because it’s true?”
Arching a single brow, she asks, “Is it?”
“Oh, my gosh, Charley, yes!” Clicking my tongue, I say, “Yes, it’s inappropriate and stupid. I’m almost forty. Four. Oh. Charley!”
“Thank you for that,” she teases. “Had you not laid it out for me, I may never know what forty meant.”
I give her an unamused look, and she breathes out a chuckle before her gaze softens.
“First of all, you arenotstupid, Georgia, and you’re not allowed to talk about my best friend like that. Secondly, what’s your age have to do with it? Not only is Fletcher a fully grown man, but you say that like you don’t have a track record for being a cougar.” She snorts, and I bite back a smile wanting to come through.
“Not the point.”
“Okay, then whatisthe point?”
