Page 1 of Better Run
CHAPTER ONE
Mary Jo
I hang my keys from the hanger shaped like boobs, holding all my groceries in one hand. The store had been packed with people who walked with no purpose and I managed to get behind every single one of them.
Kyle sits on the couch, playing Xbox and barking orders into the headset. As I walk past him into the kitchen, he flips his phone over so I can’t see the screen. A flash of irritation runs through me as I duck under the hanging vines that are taking over my kitchen and drop the groceries on the small island.
“Babe. I got food.” I try to keep the sudden venom out of my tone.
He doesn’t reply. I glare for a second then pop in a microwave meal. The same sage chicken I’ve been hooked on for the past month. I start putting away the groceries as the food warms and smells pleasant. I pop open the freezer to put more meals away and shake my head. It’s ironic that I review food for a living, but my most recent fixation has been a frozen meal from Walmart.
“God are you eating that again?”
I snap my gaze up to him. He’s still looking at the TV. He’s dusty blond, toned, and has always dressed nicely, keeping up with the latest trends.
“You play the same game over and over and you don’t get tired of it.” I roll my eyes. His phone chimes. I glare and add, “Plus you can’t tell me what to eat.”
He doesn’t flip his phone over to look at it.
It’s nothing. Probably just an email. I stand to eat and open my phone. I had a video go viral about a year ago and now I’ve built up a small platform to pay the bills and even do a few nice things, like paying off my car. We used to rely on Kyle’s less-than-impressive income as a night shift security guard and at that time, Ramen was my staple. That’s what I started posting videos about - all the cheap, yummy ways I made Ramen interesting. And things took off from there.
I look at my phone and see I got fewer views on the video I posted this morning, as has been the trend recently. I turn it off again and look toward the living room. Kyle and I have been dating for a while. Started off like firecrackers but recently things have been slowing down. We haven’t had sex in weeks. And before that, it was a month. Kyle says he’s tired from work, although it never stopped him before. Coincidentally I’ve been a bit of a bitch recently.
Maybe that’s why my views are down.
I finish my dinner and toss the empty container in the trash. I flit between chores and scrolling social media, picking up the clothes that Kyle throws next to the hamper and doing both our dishes. He likes the ‘let it soak’ method. I like the ‘no bugs’ method. As I work, I tell myself I’m overreacting. As I go, I methodically undress and casually walk between Kyle and the TV with no shirt, pants, or bra.
He finally looks up at me. “Nice.” Then he goes back to telling Tucker to get behind cover.
The fucker.
I flop down on my bed and glare at the ceiling. A fight would be fun, but it never gets anywhere with him. It’s getting boring to even pick them anymore as he predictably spins the blame around on me and then leaves the house in a muted huff. It’s fine. I’ll take care of myself. I slide my hand down to my thong. I rub tight but light circles around my clit, trying to clear my mind. I think about the gorgeous blond woman I watched get dominated by her partner in my porn browsing last night. They are my favorites. He makes noise and she isn’t putting on a show. He spanks and bites and chokes her and she always fights back until she comes. I tried showing it to Kyle once. He looked disgusted and asked why I liked domestic violence.
I rub harder circles around my clit, feeling the blood rush to my pussy. I keep at it until I come. It isn’t hard or electrifying, but it gets the job done. I don’t go for a second orgasm, I just turn on some ASMR and pull the blankets over my shoulders. At some point Kyle turns off the TV and bumps around, eventually leaving the house for work. I fall into a fitful sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
Him
I glare at my phone. She’s so pretty when she sleeps, her blond hair fanned out, arms splayed, her body open and vulnerable to attack. Her features are delicate, and her body is petite, only adding to her helplessness. I curl my lip in disgust.
I shift in my seat, parked a block away from her house. It’s a run-down, middle to lower-class neighborhood, so no one asks why I’ve been sitting in my running car for hours. I used a different rental car this time, just in case anyone was paying attention. I check the footage from the small camera I put on her dresser, facing her bed. I had watched her half-ass masturbation session earlier. It made my dick hard.
Which made me angry.
I turn my lights on and drive off, driving past her house, my headlights briefly lighting up her bedroom window. I keep going.
Soon, kitten.Very soon.
CHAPTER THREE
Mary Jo
A few evenings later, I sit on video chat with Carissa, wine drunk on the couch and talking about our next vacation spot for the hundredth time.
“Bitch, I’m telling you, Mexico is next. Forget Florida.” Her voice slurs a little.
“I’m so down” I laugh. We’ve visited every state between Ohio and Texas where she is and she’s always ready to chase that next spot with me. As I put my empty wine glass on the coffee table, a tingly feeling rolled down my back. I shiver. This damn house and its drafts.
