Not Just His!
“Show me those lips, Baby,” Paul asked and I puckered for him.
“You’ll do anything for us now, won’t you?” he asked and I nodded, then licked his stomach.
“I’m your slut,” I gasped, feeling light-headed from the experience.
Paul pulled his pillow out from under him and lay back with a sigh. I smiled with the thought of making a man feel so good. I wanted more of that feeling. “I’m good, aren’t I?” I asked.
“If they had contests for sucking cock, Baby, you’d have a roomful of trophies.”
I don’t know when I started giggling but it had become a regular reaction. Then I went back to sucking cum from my neighbor’s stomach before getting the last of it from his cock.
Paul appeared ready to go to sleep.
I kissed his lips and whispered, “Enrique wants another turn with me, right?”
Paul grabbed my ass and answered, “Yeah, tell him I got you all warmed up.”
I gave him a warm smile and started to pick up my clothes.
“Hey, hold on,” Paul said trying to summon some energy.
It was adorable that I had worn him out!
“Enrique’s ex left this here when she dumped him,” he told me as he went to his dresser, “I said I’d give it back but see if he notices it.”
He laughed at his little joke and I put the choker on for him. “Excellent,” Paul announced, leaving me to go find the second bedroom.
He was waiting, the second neighbor I used to avoid, sitting back on his bed, looking at something on a screen. “Took you long enough,” he said though he didn’t seem mad.
“I, uh, I undressed for Paul… is this okay?”
He stood and I felt the back of his hand on my shoulder. “Aren’t you the hottie in hiding?” he quipped, “Hard to believe you’re that same little twerp we used to see running away from us.”
I had hoped they never noticed I ran away. “Sorry,” I said.
“I don’t blame you,” he replied, then paused.
“You still got my boy’s cum in your mouth?”
“I swallowed it.”
“Of course you did. Go out to the kitchen and drink something.”
I turned but Enrique stopped me. “Hold on, I’ll get it. Wait here.”
And so, I began to understand the rules. There would be kissing, undressing, and dirty talk. My neighbors would share me but always one at a time and the other wouldn’t watch. Paul liked coming in my mouth but also liked being jerked off. Enrique was big fan of coming on me. They both liked my body… a lot. A critical part of my second phase became defined that night as I willingly became the hall slut.
After a few sips of beer from a can, I was deemed ready and Enrique who, like his roommate before me, began kissing my lips with intent and desire.
And like I did with his roommate before him, I reacted with lust and a need to please.
With time, I reached down, sliding a hand into his jeans. Mmm… hard-ons simply drove me wild when I first touched them. He liked me, he really liked me.
“Go down,” he simply said and I got on my knees and started on the fly.
“We used to just think you were a sissy or something,” Enrique said, “We had no idea you were doing this.”
I tugged to get his pants down and didn’t say anything in response.
“So what is this? What are you?” he asked.
“I told Paul I’m your slut.”
Zero. Not an ounce of self-respect. I wanted to be defined only by the sex I would give to men.
At least that ended the conversation about who I used to be. “Yeah, I like that,” Enrique said.
It was like we had agreed or something and it was time to move on. So I did and pulled his jeans free then took off his boxers.
When he commanded, “Come up here,” I learned that Enrique liked kissing me every bit as much as his roommate did.
After enough kissing, he repeated the “Go down,” command and I got on my knees to give yet another blowjob. Fifth, sixth, seventh… I’d remember each one but couldn’t call out any of them as more spectacular or satisfying than the others. Enrique grabbed handfuls of hair, that was what I’d come to expect from him, and liked controlling my head that way as he thrust into my mouth.
I hummed, I whined, I wailed submissively and when he stopped and asked me, I’d tell him, “More!” eager to experience the hot sex that would become my life since my girlfriend delivered me to the guys I told her I disliked.
“Put your hands behind your back,” Enrique told me after he’d skull-fucked to a point of numb lips.
I looked up and watched as he took himself into his hand.
I opened my mouth willingly and without being asked. “You are a slut, aren’t you?” he taunted.
Then my neighbor jerked himself into my mouth and all over my face as I knelt before him.
I loved it, absolutely loved it.
I was so gone. So far gone.
Oliva
The guys down the hall were completely serious about not seeing Jimmy again and they reminded me before I left their place that night. It was different, hearing their demand when I wasn’t a breath away from an erection and I was able to finally understand what they meant.
“I need to go to work, though,” I replied.
I was zipping up my skirt. Enrique had brought out my clothes to the living room as I washed up. The sweetness of his cum was still in my mouth. He had slid his index finger across my face and then into my mouth, treating me with little doses of the warm cream as I knelt before him. It felt intimate and so very arousing. I purred between fingerfuls and Enrique just watched me like I was a prized pet.
The two drank beer and watched me get dressed.
“Look, we’re not gay,” Paul reminded me, “figure it out.”
I slid my hands through the straps of my bra and nodded. “I know, I know.”
Fastening it, I promised them I’d take care of it.
“You wanna be our slut, right?” Paul asked.
It was no longer dirty talk during sex, this was a man asking how I saw myself.
“Yes, I really do. Can I give you guys my number?”
Before I left, Paul asked his roommate, “Hey, recognize that necklace?”
Enrique squinted, then laughed. “You prick! Ha! I thought you gave that back?”
Now they both laughed. Enrique said, “Looks good on her. I think she should keep it and I’ll think of that little cunt when I’m shooting my wad on Olivia!”
Paul settled from his laughing to approach me as I slipped into my pumps. He turned to Enrique and asked, as if for permission, “You kissed her, right?”
Guiltily, Enrique said that he had. With the acknowledgement that it was okay, Paul kissed me goodnight. “You were great tonight, Baby. Really,” he told me.
Enrique nodded from a few feet away. “Don’t you worry. I’ll do you again,” he told me.
Paul checked to ensure the hall was empty and said, “See ya,” scooting me out.
back in my apartment, I had a lot to think about but it would wait.
Having sex four times over the course of a few hours had left my libido in overdrive. The moment I closed my door, I got out of the skirt and started to touch myself. I fell to the floor, on my knees, reliving the night I became a slut. I collapsed and whined loudly as I came just inside my doorway.
I got myself off again right after getting undressed, then a third and fourth time as I lay in bed wearing an animal print teddy. It was glorious.
I had a few days before I’d be back at work but I woke to my new reality.
The neighbors were serious, very serious. They didn’t want to see Jimmy again. They weren’t nice guys, I knew that much. Still, I’d only seen their teasing side before. What was their angry side like? I didn’t want to find out.
They had given me the best night of my life and my world was spinning so fast that all I knew was that I needed more.
So, after breakfast, I called my only friend to see what he thought.
After a little small talk, I told Ted, “Thanks for taking my call, I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this.”
“I had almost forgotten you had my number! I’m glad you used it. What’s up?”
“Ted, what do you think would happen if I started coming into work dressed as a girl?”
“Oh… so, is Olivia going to steal your job?”
I chuckled. Over the years, I’d told Ted enough about Olivia that he surely knew how I liked being her. He had no idea, of course, that Olivia was now the slut of Rolling Meadows Apartments.
He quickly said it would be fine and even offered to help smooth things over. Ted had gotten promoted and seemed happy to use his leverage as a rising star to help out a friend.
Naturally, he wanted to know why. I told him it was about Shelly which wasn’t completely a lie and, when pressed, I confessed it had something to do with sex but mostly I just told him it was getting too hard to hide what had become of my body. That part was true and he seemed sympathetic.
Ted always seemed to listen and to understand people but never gossiped, didn’t pry. He seemed satisfied knowing my need to be Olivia had something to do with sex but my motives didn’t matter.
He told me, “Look, when two people find their needs work together, it’s a beautiful thing. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks and enjoy what you enjoy.”
Though I said he didn’t have to, Ted insisted on talking with my boss before I returned to work. “I’ve got his number and he’s a good guy. He likes your work and never says anything about how you look. It’ll be fine,” he assured me.
Ted messaged me later that day to inform me that, yes, my boss didn’t care. He said, “I told him to call you Olivia but you need to decide if you want to make any sort of formal change.”
I still had two more days before Olivia would go to work for the first time.
I went shopping for work clothes and must have tried on every outfit I owned and practiced looking professional in my living room, telling myself that I could put on the appearance of a normal working girl by day though I had committed myself to be a slut by night.
“Your neighbors said you were quite something after I left!” Shelly wrote to me as I stood wearing the white ruffled blouse and long black leather skirt that I would eventually choose for my first day at work.
“You’re not mad, right?”
“They understand they only get you when I arrange it. I’ll get you out again soon.”
“I’d like that.”
“Did you tell them you’re a slut now?”
“Dirty talk, you know.”
She joked, “I think I like it. Jimmy the slut. Ha!”
I’d had one wild night. Yes, I was a slut that night but I hadn’t thought through just how my neighbors were going to react.
Now That You're a Slut
There was a tap at my door just around five o’clock. I was about to do some yoga. Nobody visited me, ever, and I wasn’t late with the rent check.
I peeked to see Paul. He was looking right and left and lightly tapped again before I could open it.
I cracked open the door but he pushed it open the rest of the way and rushed in. “Sorry, I didn’t know…” I began.
Now safely inside, Paul was more interested in just looking at me in shorts and the cropped top I had on.
“Yoga,” I explained as he stared.
“Um, can I get you something?” I asked, turning toward my kitchen.
Paul followed me and once I stopped, he just said, “No, I’ve got something for you,” and then he scooped me up until I straddled him with my legs, Paul holding me up with one hand under my ass, the other wrapped around me.
His kisses were deep and just as powerful as the first time. Maybe I sensed a lack of patience or a presence of confidence because Paul had come to my apartment for something and he knew he wouldn’t leave disappointed.
In response to his commanding hold, I pulled the neighbor in close and gave him my mouth with the kind of submissive kisses that told him he was absolutely right. When he set me down, I knelt on my kitchen floor and performed the first sexual act in my apartment that involved two people since I’d moved in.
Paul came in my mouth as I pumped his shaft to his repeated phrase, “You’re my slut, you’re my slut.”
I held his softening cock and kissed it. I made eye contact, now that the excitement was subsided for him and told him, “I’m your slut.”
It would be months before I would realize what I was doing. Paul and Enrique were more than just two guys who were mean to me. They were shallow, immature, and mean. I had committed myself to pleasing them even though I knew part of their delight was in humiliating me.
Paul would leave with a long kiss at my doorway, after which I stripped off my shorts and top and went into my bedroom. I knelt on the bed, then spread my knees apart until I felt the bed behind me. I began rocking as my eyes rolled up. I pulled up a pillow, leaned forward and ground down on it until I came in my panties.
My phone buzzed just after I got off. It was Enrique.
I would blow him in my living room before ever getting around to yoga that night.
It seemed a little presumptuous, even given how I had acted, but the guys were taking it seriously. I had become their slut and they would take full advantage of my deranged new personality.
Second Thoughts
After working in a skirt for my first day, I let Shelly know that I’d done it.
“You don’t have to worry about giving me extra time to get ready now if we go out,” I told her.
She seemed shocked. “Wow! Did they give you a hard time?”
“It was cool. My friend Ted made sure of that. I don’t really interact with anyone there.”
“We’ll go out soon. I’ll set something up,” was her reply. She added, “Stay away from Ted. You’re mine, remember.”
It was actually nice to think she was jealous.
That night, the guys down the hall messaged me and I went to them, as requested, in heels, bra and panty with my fur jacket and nothing else. Enrique sat on their couch as I sucked him off, his roommate waiting in his bedroom for a handjob with a lot of kissing once I was done. We had an unspoken agreement that nobody would let Shelly know because none of us wanted her meddling.
“Later,” Paul simply said as I left. Enrique just nodded.
I darted back to my room, masturbated a few times, then got ready for bed and that’s when the doubts came.
Looking back, it wasn’t an epiphany or some moment of clarity where I was able to step back and think about what I had become. Instead, it was a small subset of what a reasonable person would have felt. Small, because the only thing that was bugging me was that the guys were taking me for granted. “Later?” He just said, “Later?”
No goodnight kiss? No compliments? I had gotten Enrique to the point of trembling and held him there for minute after delicious minute before letting him unload into my mouth. Paul had kissed me so hard that I was putting on balm and hoping I wouldn’t still be red-lipped for work the next day.
So, when Shelly’s message came, I answered, “I don’t know. Maybe I need to take some time off. Not sure about all this.”
“Saturday,” she replied, “Remember that guy Jerry from his party?”
“The one with the girlfriend who doesn’t give head?”
“A lot of girls don’t do that,” Shelly snapped, adding, “A LOT.”
“Sorry. Is he having another party?”
“I found out he’s going out Saturday without his girlfriend. We’ll meet him there.”
“I don’t know,” I replied, “I’m not feeling great and I think they’re a serious couple or something.”
Her winking emoji showed satisfaction. “I know. That’s what’s so hot. You with another girl’s guy…” she hummed erotically, “Mmm… I get wet just thinking about it.”
I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. And wet? Gross.
She paused and told me, “I’ll come by after dinner. You’ll see. It’ll be good. Wear something trampy.”
That Saturday wouldn’t be the best sexual experience I’d had, but it would be one of the weirdest.
“Well, hello there, Little Miss Office Worker. Have I told you how great you look today?” Ted joked when he saw me leaving for lunch.
“Today and every day,” I said with a smile.
“I love your style, Olivia,” Ted replied, then added, “Just heading out?”
“Just gotta get my purse. I keep forgetting it.”
He smiled as if he understood my adjustment took work. “How about I take you? My treat,” he asked.
As he followed me, I shook my head and told him, “I actually looked outside, decided it was a beautiful day for a walk, took my sunglasses out of my purse but then left it there on my desk. Sometimes I’m pretty lame at being a girl.”
He laughed with me and said a walked sounded nice.
I winced. “I don’t know… my girlfriend’s the jealous type,” I explained.
That just made him laugh. “It’s me! Not some hot chick who’s into you like this. Jeeze, Olivia.” He seemed completely incredulous. Ted simply had no idea. In his mind, Shelly should be jealous if a pretty girl wanted to go on a walk with me. Me, the one who let a guy shoot cum all over my face and then feed it to me. Yeah, Ted, girls aren’t the problem.
Ploy
I took Ted up on his lunch offer and, of course, he asked about my love life. I just couldn’t tell him the truth but I wanted to learn. “Ted, you’ve been with girls who are into oral sex, right?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Not really. Well, never enough, but go on,” was his answer.
I looked down at my soup. I just didn’t know what to say. That left Ted to guess (wrongly) about what was on my mind. “Oh, so that’s her thing? Really? Your girl’s into going down on you? Damn, are you the luckiest guy on the planet?” I couldn’t stop him. “Really, Olivia, if that’s what it took, I’d happily grow my hair and wear hip pads and fake boobs to keep her happy!” He ended with, “You lucky son of a bitch!”
Oh, Ted… he had no idea… about so many things.
When Saturday came around, Shelly showed up early - a first. That was enough to make things weird. When I reminded her that I wasn’t in the mood, she said, “That’s why I’m here.”
She had, or tried to have, a sultry tone. I could tell it was foreign for her. Looking back, it reminded me of how she acted on the night be we met. Then she started to undress and lightly touched my face. “Take your clothes off, Olivia,” she whispered.
We were both in bra and panties and she asked, “Where do you keep your makeup?”
“On my makeup table,” I answered and looked in the direction of my bedroom.
“Go get on your bed,” she instructed. I shuddered. She wasn’t interested in sex, was she? Dread set in.
After showing shock upon seeing how much makeup I’d accumulated, my girlfriend returned with a handful of tubes and powders. I asked what she was doing and she told me, “Helping you get ready.”
I lightly objected. I was in no mood for a fight. I was relieved she wasn’t going to initiate sex.
Shelly proceeded to apply my makeup, all the while telling me how much Paul said I was sexy and gave the best head they’d ever had. “Don said the same thing, you know,” she added, “I love that you do this for me.”
“Honey, I know I don’t tell you enough but you’re beautiful and the guys love you. I’m sure Jerry still pictures you when he’s with his girlfriend. You know he deserves a refresher, right?”
She was obviously buttering me up. She was also closer to naked than she’d ever been around me. It was like Shelly was pulling out all the stops to sex me up and get me out that night. Her bare leg was purposefully stroking mine.
“Best they ever had? They said that?”
Yes. Shelly’s ploy worked. Not the one with her leg, trying to arouse me, but the one where she told me guys said I gave good head. She added, “I know you like doing this for me and I feel bad you’ve had to be so patient. After tonight, how about I finally let you have me? I mean, you’ve been so good.”
I think I said something like, “Yeah, that would be great,” or a similar lie.
Appealing to my love of clothes, she added, “You know, I’ve never seen in your leather pants and I thought we might both wear our matching jackets.”
We were sure to turn heads, dressed the same. It impossible to refuse.
“I’ll come back to pick you up around nine,” she told me before she left. I wasn’t one-hundred-percent sold but I nodded and agreed I’d be ready, wearing a leather pants, tall heels, a very snug sweater, and my kiss-proof lipstick.
Not long after, there was a tell-tale tap at my door. Paul came in and announced, “Your girl told us you were off-limits tonight. She’s got plans or something?”
“Yeah, we’re going out.”
“When’s that?”
He wouldn’t bother with an answer.
Shelly had done a nice job with my makeup and I just put on my short black robe after she left. That’s how Paul found me – made up with a silky little robe on. He didn’t waste much time and once the kissing began, I was all his yet again.
He wanted me to jerk him off so we went to my bedroom where I undressed him. That boy loved kissing me. I held my hair off to one side as I sucked the cum off of him so that I wouldn’t have to wash it again. Paul seemed to crash like always but, also like always, I wanted come.
“Just a few,” he answered when I suggested I needed to get ready. That boy was about to fall asleep in my bed.
I lay down close to him and slung a leg over his naked body.
We laid like that for a while. I’m not sure when but I had begun to grind a little. Then a little more and a little more until I could feel my pussy working against Paul’s thigh.
“You getting off or something?” he asked in a near-daze.
I was certainly on my way. My breath was heavy and I knew I wasn’t hiding anything.
“I might?”
That seemed to liven him up. Paul slid over to give me room. “Go ahead,” he offered.
I wasted no time and got on my back, then let my hand slide down. Paul was instantly impressed.
I began to whine as my fingers worked. Paul just gasped.
“Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!” I came into my panties, the image of my astounded neighbour in my blurred peripheral vision.
“Damn,” was all he had to say.
Satisfied the excitement was over, Paul turned and put his feet on the floor. He looked back at me in my bliss and offered one more “Damn” before getting dressed and quietly leaving.
Shelly would find me dressed but not ready to break up a relationship and quite worried about what she wanted to do afterwards.
Or, Would I.
Shelly. My girlfriend. My enabler. The woman who turned me onto eating cum. The woman who then turned me onto eating other men’s cum. The woman who, unknowingly, led me to become Olivia, the girl who loved to please men.
I still considered her my girlfriend.
We hadn’t even kissed in over two years. The sole evidence of our relationship was my willingness to suffer through her punishments and our shared enjoyment of my time with men.
And, yet, I still considered her my girlfriend.
Maybe it was because I could never do better, because she was too pretty for little Jimmy? Maybe it was because she was in my head and so thoroughly in charge that I wouldn’t question anything from her? I knew that part of the reason I stayed with her was because I felt indebted for what she’d brought out in me.
We had enjoyed a mildly erotic makeup session on my bed earlier that day but still, we hadn’t kissed in years.
I didn’t really miss it.
Guys were way better kissers. I suspected other girls might be, too.
Shelly, though, guessed that I did miss it.
We got to the bar and, just as she knew, Jerry was there with some friends. “I don’t know, Shelly… not sure I’m in the mood,” I told her. He seemed like a nice guy and even though he had a deal that allowed him to cheat on his girlfriend, that seemed like a bad idea.
“C’mon,” she said and led me to the ladies room.
My weird day was about to get more weird because she took me into a stall, closed the door and kissed me like it meant life or death. “You’re so gorgeous in that dress,” she told me, “I just know every guy out there has noticed you!”
Her kisses… eh… take ‘em or leave ‘em… they did nothing for me.
But her words… I could count the number of times I’d been out at night around guys and each one was electrifying. “You think so?” I asked, fishing for more.
“Your legs, those tits… your hair…” she said taking an inventory of how I’d become feminized, “you’re every guy’s wet dream.”
She kissed me again and I sort of wanted her to stop. No, I really wanted her to stop.
Thankfully, she wanted to get back to persuading. “I’m sure Jerry already saw you. Don’t you want to see if he remembers you?”
“I’d like to think he would.” I was good that night at his party, I really thought I was.
She could tell I was coming around though Shelly probably misplaced my attraction. “I’d love to see you take him out to his car. And, mmm, if you do, I’ll give you something special afterwards.”
Sex with Jerry was pretty hot. It had elements of danger because he didn’t know who I was and also a sort of “bad-girl” aspect since he was cheating on his girlfriend. It was also safe because I knew what he wanted and it surely wasn’t going to lead to a guy explaining why he wanted to ass-fuck me in his back seat. Shelly had said enough. My newfound slutty persona was ready and though she may have mistaken about the object of my desire, Shelly could see the need in my eyes.
With a big smile, Shelly opened the stall door. She was done kissing me, thank god, and had won me over. “I’ll stay out of sight, but know I’ll be watching,” she said as she led me on. Her last words were, “Get him to talk about his girlfriend. I mean, look at you… my little homewrecker. Ha!”
I left my apprehension in the ladies room and let myself hear the music and enjoy being out.
Jerry didn’t know the important role he played in helping me to find my slutty side but I’d reward him… assuming he was willing. We stepped away from the bathrooms. Shelly soon stopped moving; her smile bid me to go on while she would watch from the back.
He wasn’t hard to find. Tall, dark hair, big smile. He was with two other guys so I moved around until their backs were toward me and waited to be noticed.
Jerry was laughing, just a guy out with his mates for a few beers. His body language told me he had no idea that Shelly had set up the ambush I would drop on him.
I shifted my weight and noticed a blonde guy smiling at me. My return smile said, “Hi but, no, don’t come over,” or at least I tried. I had so much to learn about being a girl at a bar.
Back to fidgeting, I felt my feet in the high heels. I had changed to working as a woman in a decision that I really should have taken more seriously. My love for cum had grown into a love for giving head but it could have stopped there. It didn’t have to cross the line into my daily life but it had. Those platform heels would be part of the new me and standing in that bar I hadn’t yet appreciated that I’d walked away from being Jimmy. Olivia might change, she might develop or mature, but Jimmy… he was a memory and, though I was waiting to be taken out to some guy’s car to suck his dick, I was yet to face the fact that I was no longer a boy.
Shelly’s words still hung in my head. “Every guy’s wet dream.” It didn’t matter if she was just saying nice things to get me in the mood, I looked around to notice the men out that night and thought, yeah, I’d suck every one of them if I could.
I let my left hip rise as I shifted onto the right heel.
I had accumulated so many women’s shoes – pump and mary janes, booties and boots and strappy sandals and… I looked down at the pair I wore that night – black platform pumps with a tall stiletto heel. I’d worn them to work and, putting them on that evening felt comforting, like they reinforced who I wanted to be.
And… there it was. Jerry’s smile turned curious when he found me. I tried out a “I’m yours” smile in return and he soon excused himself and walked over.
“Olivia,” he said, seemingly unsure of what to say to the girl who swallowed his cum while kneeling on his bedroom carpet.
He seemed a bit nervous and I guessed that he hadn’t told his pals he cheated on his girlfriend. “Let’s move over there,” I directed, suggesting we move out of view from his drinking mates. Jerry seemed relieved and once we were hidden, I broke the ice with, “As soon as I recognized you, I just stood there waiting for you to notice me.”
“You did?”
I nodded. “I miss you,” I said softly, adding, “I mean, I think about that time. Do you?”
I never had an ego or, rather Jimmy didn’t. But slutty Olivia waited for what seemed like an eternity, needing to hear that she gave memorable head.
“Olivia, it was… yeah, I still think about it but…”
I put my finger to his lips. “Just once more,” I purred, “Take me out to your car. I need you in my mouth tonight.”
He stammered, “I… I shouldn’t… my girlfriend...”
“It’ll be our secret, just like last time.”
I had not, of course told anyone and Jerry knew that. Sluts don’t have to be blabbermouths. Jerry looked around and I took his arm and whispered, “My mouth needs you.”
He let out a little whine. “Just like last time,” I said as I giggled, “Come on, I promise you’ll like me.”
After a sigh, he answered, “Oh, I don’t doubt that…” Then, he let his shoulders slump in surrender and said, “Let’s go.” Then he helped with my jacket and out we went.
The fur that was my first had proven to be way too dressy for most occasions. The one I left at Roger’s place was long gone but I’d gotten another. Jerry was helping me with a fitted leather jacket that had an oversized fox fur collar and matched the one my girlfriend had worn the first time Olivia kissed a man.
“It’s over here. I really can’t be long,” he said as we walked. I took his arm, the second time for me, and headed to his car where I’d show him that it wasn’t just a one-time thing, that he was with a slut who any man could have if they wanted.
Pleased Girlfriend!
I wouldn’t let Jerry know that it was my first time in a car, so I moved slowly and followed his lead as we got into the back seat. “I should be able to resist you,” he began to say but I turned to him and kissed his lips before he could start to talk himself out of cheating.
Jerry held me and his hands let me know he wasn’t about to stop. I hummed with his touch and let him take off my twinsie jacket. More humming as he touched my breasts, then I took off my sweater and unclasped my bra, letting Jerry pull the straps down over my arms. “Holy hell…” he murmured while staring at my body.
My body. I wasn’t hiding anything and was done faking. They were my tits that had the boy in the car mesmerized along with my fine waist, my slender shoulders. Jerry was enthralled and I was the slut who stripped for his pleasure. I felt I could have come in seconds if I had something to rub against.
After getting my nipples oversized and erect with his play, Jerry leaned back as we kissed. I didn’t bother to check, that boy was hard, I was sure of it. I slide down onto the car’s floor, kneeling there, watching my painted nails glimmer in the parking lot’s light as my hands worked his belt and pants.
“I need it, I need it so much,” I purred.
He sprang out the moment he was freed from his underwear. It was like an erotic announcement marking the start of the main event. I hummed and held it the moment it had blossomed, then adjusted a bit so make sure he’d be comfortable before finally getting my mouth back on the man who helped me discover that I was a slut.
He was in a hurry, I knew that, but I just had to talk a little. I licked him and confessed, “I still think about that time in your bedroom. I’ve gotten myself off reliving it in my head.”
I hummed my lips over him and let my head fall as his dick invaded my mouth. My body shuddered in reply to his presence. “Damn, Olivia, you really do love giving head, don’t you?” he noted.
Jerry’s words felt, at first, like a compliment. He clearly liked the soft and tender sucking. His hand caressed my hair and I could tell he liked its softness.
But his observation was more than that and as I slowly bobbed up and down in the back seat of his car, the joy and passion bringing on a wonderful high, I let myself go deeper to the new me and let whatever remained of Jimmy just disappear.
It may have started by enjoying cum but I had taken it so much farther. I dropped my head so far into that man’s lap that I felt the tip of his cock on the back of my throat. He moaned. He moaned for me, for his slut.
Jerry came in my mouth and I squealed with joy as he pumped into me. Above me, the guy with a serious girlfriend heaved and grunted. He pulled my hair and thumped the back seat with his other hand. It was like a wrestler pounding out his surrender on the mat.
I’d won again. One more for Olivia the slut.
I lingered, possibly too long. Jerry started to sit up.
“Hey!” I blurted and quickly apologized.
“Sorry!” Jerry apologized in turn.
“It’s okay, just a little cum. It’ll wash out,” I said, looking down at the cashmere. I had gotten enough cum on clothing while masturbating to know it was best to just wait until I could wash it properly. “It’s not a big deal, cum’s easy to get out.”
Jerry cleared his throat and said we needed to get back inside.
“Of course,” I replied, adding, “Jerry, that was so good. I was worried you wouldn’t take me out here.”
He zipped up his fly and said, “I couldn’t… I… You’re just too good but, really, we can’t do this again.”
“Whatever you say.” I could tell Jerry wasn’t convinced. Thoughts raced forward in my head – would I blow him if he got married? How much of a slut was I going to be?
I took his arm once we were both out of the car but Jerry gently moved it away. “I’m sorry, Olivia but, really, I’ve got a girlfriend.”
“Right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
He shook his head and smiled. “You really do like that, don’t you?”
“Giving head? God, yes. Jerry, you have no idea.”
“One in a million,” he observed.
“Oh, stop. Other girls are into it.”
“Maybe,” he answered, “but not like you and, honestly, a lot just won’t.”
I frowned. “Your girlfriend… she won’t?”
“It’s not that she won’t,” he began, “she has a couple of times but, you know, I can tell she’s just doing it like it’s some kind of requirement. It’s an act and I just feel guilty afterwards.”
“That sounds weird but what do I know,” I told him.
Jerry shrugged. “Could be worse. I had a roommate whose girlfriend absolutely refused. Bummer was that’s all he wanted. I was stupid enough to get involved in their fight but then she found out that Courtney, that’s my girlfriend, that Courtney wasn’t into it and the whole thing blew up. They got in a big fight. That girl was crazy.” He sighed and finished with, “At least I don’t think Courtney would ever go after me if we broke up.”
“So you don’t like getting head?” I asked.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s great… you’re great!” he answered, “I’m just not one of those guys who lives for it. You know, like my old roomie.”
I leaned into him and smiled. Jerry went on, remembering for me, “That guy had no, like zero, interest in fucking. We used to tell him to get a gay guy, ‘they’re into it,’ we’d joke but he was all, ‘sorry, too into boobs and miniskirts.’ Ha! That dude was awesome – knew what he liked and didn’t care what anyone thought.”
We walked toward the door but before going in, Jerry asked, “Did you really get off thinking about us?”
“Dozens of times.”
That made him smile. “Do you think you’ll…” he began to ask.
I cut him off, “I almost did it in your car and, god yes, I’m going south the moment I get home.”
We shared a laugh. Jerry told me, “There’s something about you, Olivia, and it’s not just the oral. Being with you, being intimate with you is so… so real, so honest.”
I tried not to chuckle at the irony and said, “I’m sure you and your girlfriend have your moments.”
His face turned sad. “I never realized it before tonight but, no,” he answered, “Not like it is with you. Sex is just like a performance she wants to get over with.”
With that, I told him I was sorry, then I kissed his lips one last time.
I guessed I’d never see Jerry again and that time in his car, it would turn out, was our last. I let Jerry go through the door first and pulled out my phone to send an important message while I waited long enough so that nobody would think we were together.
When I did go back inside, Shelly was waiting for me with a delighted look. We made eye contact and I imagined her saying, “I’m so turned on right now! Just knowing what you did gets me hot!”
I was hot, too, just not for her.
Nothing Special
“You were out there for so long!” Shelly beamed, “You did it, right?”
Oh, Shelly, my dear Shelly. I’ve seen you give head, if that’s what you want to call it. Heck, I’ve been a recipient. Shelly’s lackluster, mechanical, get-this-over-with style could only be called a blowjob in the most academic sense. I supposed Jerry’s girlfriend was the same. I was glad Jerry took me his car. I actually didn’t want Shelly to watch me again. It was just too weird, like I was showing off to my girlfriend or trying to win some sort of contest when, in fact, I was just letting myself do what came naturally.
I nodded and my girlfriend jumped up. Yeah, she was into it. “Do I see a little cum on your sweater? Not into swallowing anymore?”
I looked down and nodded. Something inside just didn’t want to share the experience with Shelly.
“The girlfriend, did you get him to talk about the girlfriend?”
“Her name’s Courtney,” I answered. Shelly had a lot of kinks and I was happy to play along with that one. Sure, she could think that I played the home-wrecker and tried to fuck with Jerry’s head while making love with mine.
Delighted, she repeated the name then took a moment and oozed, “That’s such a turn on!” After another pause, she offered, “Let’s go back to your place. I promised you something special, right?”
Right. Something special.
Shelly had left me sex-starved for a year… two times. But it wasn’t her I wanted. I wouldn’t tell her, but I’d simply lost all interest in girls. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a sexual thought aimed at the “opposite” sex.
Opposite… I hadn’t come close to admitting I’d become female. A slut, yes, but that was more persona than gender. I was like a guy playing as a girl because I was a slut. Looking back, I didn’t find that confusing at all.
And even though I only thought about sex with men, I was far from confronting that I was Olivia and that Olivia was a woman. I suppose I was too addicted to sex for any self-analysis.
Her phone went off as we walked to her car. “It’s that guy,” she said as she read the message, “your neighbor.”
Trying to hide my eagerness, I asked, “What’s he want?”
She grinned as she read it. “He wants to know if I’m done with you.” She turned to me and said, “Sounds like he really wants you to come over.”
“Oh right!” I said, acting as if I was remembering, “He had asked me before you told me about tonight but I told them to check with you.”
We arrived at her car and got in. “I guess it’s up to you. I did promise you something…”
“I know,” I told her, feigning disappointment, “but I Paul moved around his schedule. I know you like it when I do that. I should go to see him.”
She asked, “What about his roommate, the hunk, is going to be there?”
Avoiding trouble, I lied. “He’ll probably just stay in his room like last time.” Maybe that wasn’t a total lie.
Shelly shrugged. As she drove, she observed, “You know those guys really don’t like you, right?”
Her words were testimony to my depravity but I wouldn’t hear them. Instead, I returned her shrug and said, “It’s just sex,” adding, “and it’s like something I do for you.”
While the sex part was true, it was also true that Paul and Enrique were jerks and the fact that I would make love to them with my mouth whenever they wanted it didn’t change how they treated me. But did I care? The notion that I was doing any of it for Shelly was never true but she needed to be in control so I’d let her think she always was.
“You don’t have to come in,” I told Shelly as we approached the building. The thought of her watching not only made me feel self-conscious but I also thought she’d be judging me if the guys ridiculed me like they often would.
Still in the platform heels, I did my best to briskly walk to my door. Inside, I tossed my jacket on the couch and quickly changed my sweater and delivered my horny self to the guys down the hall.
“There’s our girl,” Paul said as he let me in, “You need some thick cock in your mouth?”
I put a hand over his shoulder and let a sultry grin appear. “That’s exactly what I need,” walking in without any hesitation and setting my purse on the floor.
“So,” Enrique began. He was getting something from the kitchen and went on to as, “Does your girlfriend know you don’t want her anymore, that all you want is cock?”
“I didn’t tell her,” I answered, adding, “I’m afraid if she found out she wouldn’t be cool about me coming over. She’s pretty possessive.”
“Fucked up,” commented Paul.
We renewed our agreement that Shelly wouldn’t know we were getting together.
Enrique starting to get undressed; apparently they had decided he’d go first. As he did, he handed a spoon to Paul who grinned as he held onto it while his roommate took off his pants.
I knew where their bedrooms were and asked if I should go to Enrique’s. “Let’s see that body first,” Paul asked as he sat down, “I want to see what you’ve done to yourself.”
Wiggling out of leather pants always took some work but the guys didn’t seem rushed. Enrique stripped down to his underwear and took the spoon back. “You got anything racy, like garters ‘n shit?” Paul asked as I worked the pants free.
I answered, “Some,” and then added, “I guess I could do some shopping.” The idea of getting into some kind of outfit just for sex sounded like something I’d like… possibly quite a lot.
“Damn,” Paul announced as I pulled up my sweater, “You have totally fucked yourself up.”
“She’s a chick now,” Enrique summarized, standing in just his underwear, “That’s our Olivia.”
“Your slut,” I said once I stood topless, my panties easily hiding the only clue to what I used to be.
Paul gestured over his shoulder with a nod. “He gets you first,” then he called to his roommate, “Make sure she’s cleaned up for me! Don’t send her over with your jizz all over her face, bro!”
“I got you,” was the reply.
Still sitting comfortably on the couch, Paul grabbed my wrist as I walked by. He pulled me down and I giggled, then kissed his lips. Still giggling, “Wait your turn!” I joked as I got up.
I closed the bedroom door behind me. I was a good slut, one who knew the rules. These guys were way more fun in private anyway, they held back when the other might know how much they liked having me.
My first reward for following the privacy rules was a long, deep kiss. Enrique’s hands cupped my ass and he pulled me close, leaving no room for doubt – that man wanted me.
Oh! Oh! Jimmy!
What would happen in that room marked the beginning of the low point of my new life. Jimmy’s body was gone, unrecognizable as long as I kept my panties on. Jimmy’s persona had been pushed aside, boxed up and sealed but yet… not discarded, not completely.
I couldn’t completely move on because I allowed Enrique to remind me. “Damn, girl,” he began after stepping back, “Look at what you’ve done to yourself.”
His smile showed me he was pleased. More than that, he liked me or, rather, he liked having sex with the girl I’d become. I turned a little and put a hand on my hip. “You like?” I teased.
He shook his head. “It’s just so fucked up… what you did yourself. You were just some little shit down the hall that we liked fucking with and now… now you, like, made yourself look like a hot chick so you can suck our dicks. You know we hated you, right?”
Looking back, I foolishly thought I had hit bottom when I blew Jerry knowing he had a girlfriend. But, no, that wasn’t even close. I found bottom in Enrique’s room that night.
Enrique had a contemplative look and as he spoke, he seemed puzzled. I shrugged at his question. I wanted to move on, to just enjoy being Olivia. My neighbor’s reminders were meant to be cruel and hurtful.
“Whatever,” he said, “Go down like the little bitch you are.”
Finally. It had been an hour or so since Jerry delighted my mouth and I cleverly avoided sex with my girlfriend. I purred and smiled for my man, ready to feel the soft skin of a cock on my lips.
“Yeah, you always were a faggot, weren’t you? Go on, get it out, we know that’s all you want.”
I tried to hear him selectively and focused on what I wanted. I let myself enjoy the simplicity of Olivia’s place. She was a girl who loved giving head and the guys knew that. Erotic, fulfilling and simple – the new me had a place in this world and that was comforting enough to put up with just about anything.
Enrique’s words seems to amp up his libido because we’d only kissed a little but I was soon freeing a fairly erect cock. I dragged my fingertips up from the base and purred. Holding it, I’m sure, made my body temperature increase. I would eat his cum before leaving his room but I’d come to adore handling a man’s cock and taking it in my mouth. If Enrique wanted to belittle me to get turned-on, I wouldn’t care. I just wanted to make love to him.
Yes, he did want to belittle me. “So, now that you fucked-up your body, you’re my personal slut, you know that, right Jimmy?”
Ugh… It was bad enough that Shelly still called me that. I hoped this was a phase. I tried to block out the words I didn’t like. “I’m your slut,” I echoed.
“If you want to be a slut, you gotta earn it, bitch,” he challenged, “Get going.”
With a hum, I took him into my mouth, easily stiffening his cock with a few long, soft sucks. I was soon treating him to minute after minute of oral adoration as I tried to block out his teasing and insults.
“Pull your hair back, baby, here it comes.” Yeah, I was a good slut. Enrique’s words meant he wanted to come on my face again but I heard him promise Paul not to leave me covered in cum and knew that stuff was hard to get out of my hair. I kept pumping as I took my mouth off of him and pulled my hair over my shoulders with my free hand.
Enrique usually jerked himself off onto me but I asked, “Can I do it?” hoping to show him how good I was at giving a handjob.
“It’s all you, baby, pump my load all over yourself.”
I liked being called baby. Thankfully, he was done with my old name. “Oh… I want it,” I whined, “I want your cum.”
My man stood hands on hips when the moment arrived. The culmination of my first handjob with him was announced with one of those prolonged blasts consisting of several big drops strung together by short, thick strands of still-more cum. It just missed my hairline, the power of the blast surprising me and completely missing my open mouth. The second shot was only slightly more calm and landed on my nose and eye, then his pulsing member settled down enough to reliably take the rest of him on my lips and around my mouth. I slowed my pumping and closed in with tongue extended as blasts slowed to the last drop that departed his body as my light grip coaxed it out by pulling up the shaft.
“Damn, girl…” Enrique sighed. Yeah, I was pretty good.
He reached for his dresser, where he had set down the spoon. This was another first for me and, like jerking off the neighbor, wouldn’t be the last. I took it when offered, and playfully asked, “You want me to eat it with this?”
“That’s what a good slut would do, isn’t it?” he answered rhetorically.
His eyes – so intense, so deeply satisfied. Enrique looked down on me as I glided the spoon across my face. The first few were easy and produced healthy quantities that I savored after slurping them up. “I think I need a little help,” I said with a giggle once it became hard to get the rest.
“Here you go,” he said as he offered the spoon once he’d collected enough cum to make it worthwhile.
I didn’t touch it, instead I let him feed me and relished the submission as he cooed, “That’s a good slut,” as I ate the last of his cum from my face.
Without being asked, I sucked him gently to get just a little more from his softening cock. Enrique then dressed. “Thank you,” I told him, my voice soft and blissful. I added, “I liked jerking you off especially. That was our first time, you know.”
He just nodded and suggested I get cleaned up. We would kiss goodnight but I had another man to please before saying goodbye to apartment 4D.
Passed Around
I looked around for my clothes before I remembered that I’d stripped in the boys’ living room. That made me giggle a bit and I stood. “See you before I leave?” I asked. I was hardly the sentimental type but there was something about a goodnight kiss that gave me a rush.
“Sure, baby.”
Yeah, he was done using my old name. I smiled yet again, happy to be his “baby”. I brought my purse and heels into the bathroom, pausing by Paul’s closed door to tell him I’d be about ten minutes. He was probably doing something on his phone and wouldn’t mind the wait. “Sure,” was his reply.
I had managed to keep Enrique’s cum out of my hair, though that first bit of it came close. I’d learn to expect powerful blasts in the future. Paul wouldn’t mind if I took longer but he would mind if I went to his room with any of Enrique still on me so I washed carefully, dried my face, and re-did my makeup. I even sprayed a little perfume to make sure I’d be fresh like he wanted. Okay, it was more like twenty minutes.
Wearing just pumps and panties, I tapped on Paul’s door and opened it before he answered. That’s sort of a slut’s power and privilege, we get to walk in as long as we’re expected. “There’s my girl,” Paul said as he put down his phone. He reached toward me with a hand, which I took. Yeah, he didn’t care that I was late.
With one pull, my much larger neighbor yanked me on top of him, eliciting a giggle before I kissed his lips. Paul groped my body, squeezed my ass and pulled my hair. When our first kisses were over, he reached under his pillow and brought out a small paper bag. “I got you something,” he told me as he held it.
A gift? A gift?!!! A gift, for me… from a lover?!!! Never in my life did I think that might happen! I’d been with Shelly for years and aside from a few shots of cum, she’d never gotten me anything. A gift?!!!
I lit up and Paul could read my excitement.
“Go ahead,” he offered and I took the bag.
Inside, I found a black choker. It was a simple thing made of faux leather. “I love it!” I exclaimed.
“No, check it out,” he said, “the outside.”
I flipped the choker over. Writing, there was writing on the outside – the side that the world would see when I would wear it.
“Slut.”
I looked at the word and read it again, aloud. “Slut.”
Telling me the story, Paul said, “Enrique got that for his last girl, just when she was ready to take a face-load. He says once he gets them to put it on, they’re all his.” He shook his head. “Dude’s a master but I guess she freaked out after it happened and she took it off an bolted out of here. That’s the night she left the other necklace I gave you because she took it off for this one.”
“You like it?” he asked.
“I love it!” It was a gift and it was perfect. How better to tell everyone how simple and wonderful my new life had become? I started to pull it around my neck but Paul stopped me.
“Not so fast. You’ll have to earn it.”
I teased, “What did you have in mind?”
He hummed and answered, “How about you get down and suck me off?”
“Mmm, sounds like a deal.”
Paul propped up his pillows and got comfortable. He had been waiting for me naked so I only had to pull back the bedding. When he asked what I was, I happily said the word. I was a slut, a proud one at that.
“You like the way we take turns on you?” Paul asked as my head rolled slowly up, my lips tenderly wrapped around his manhood.
“I just wish there were more of you,” I teased, saying exactly what a good slut would say in reply.
There’s no feeling like the soft skin of a man’s cock as it passes by your lips. Shielded from the world, the skin is impossibly smooth, like stretched silk. Beneath it is a firm shaft that’s not uncomfortably hard like wood or steel but just pliable enough, like a stiff foam. The heat is real and transmits a human connection. The man might be tough but his cock’s a tender thing and when he offers it to you, he’s making himself vulnerable. He’s trusting you, trusting me, to be gentle, to be sweet-tempered as he lets me handle him and take him into my mouth.
Paul’s cock is all that and I tingle as it enters me. Better yet, I can hear Paul sigh with pleasure and his hand goes predictably to my hair where it gathers up enough before he begins to pull.
God, but I love giving head.
Unlike Enrique’s kinky mood that I only partly liked, Paul’s thoughts are completely welcome and I tune in to hear him call me a slut and tell me how good I am. I purr and hum when I’m able. He’s exactly what I want. The only words I utter are a reminder that I want him to cum in my mouth.
And he does.
Mmm. God but I love swallowing cum.
As I’m getting the last of it, Paul asks me to sit up. “Lemme see what you’ve done to your body,” he asks.
I play bashful and ask, “Did I earn my jewelry?”
There’s a drop forming on his cock, the last drop I was about to suck. I take it with my finger and ask once more, “Am I an official slut now?” before taking his finger in my mouth. Paul’s staring at my tits, I cover myself and ask, “Well?” before getting back to sucking my finger.
He just stares as I suck. It’s hot and there’s no doubt that boy is into me.
He presses against my leg with his, indicating he doesn’t want to surround me anymore. Paul’s not the limber type; straddling my body was probably fine while I performed but I can tell he wants to get more comfortable. I let his leg in between mine. I’m guessing he wants to kiss so I lean down. Paul still has a firm grip and turns my head with a yank of my hair. My reflex is to yelp and he takes advantage of my open mouth by planting his lips on it and then diving in with his tongue.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing when he bends the knee of the leg that’s between mine. He’s probably just trying to get better leverage for his very commanding hold of my body while we kiss.
But, whatever his intent, Paul’s big thigh is soon pressing close to my pleasure spot and before I can think about it, I angle my hips a little and let out a high-pitched whimper into his open mouth. Without looking for it, the neighbor has found my pussy.
The New Girl In The Hall!
One whimper leads to another and my partner can tell something’s going on.
“What are you doing?” he asks accusingly, “You getting off?”
It’s not easy to speak. Breathlessly, I answer, “Uh-huh.”
“What the…?!!!” Paul’s suddenly angry as well as surprised. He pushes me away.
“No, it’s not like that!” I tell him, “Not like a guy or anything!”
After pushing me away, my body’s now balanced on my right knee and hand like I’m in some kind of yoga pose. I put my other foot on the bed, careful not to touch him because Paul seems disgusted with me. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I assure him, “It’s like last time. Look.”
My thumb slips beneath my panties so I can pull them down to expose my shaved pelvis but not far enough so he can see my cock. “I don’t get hard or anything gross like that. I was rubbing on you here.”
“There?”
With his mood more curious than angry, I feel the tension might prove to be short-lived. “It’s my pussy.”
Yeah, that made him curious.
I explained, “Shelly taught me. She wanted me to learn to get off without… you know.” I loathed even thinking I had a cock, let alone talking about it – ever.
“And that’s how you came when we were in your bed?” he asked.
I nodded but added, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t thinking.”
“You just rub that against something and…”
Hmm… he was more than curious. Paul seemed to be into it.
I softened and gave him a grin. “Wanna see me finish?”
He reached for the back of my head and as he was grabbing my hair, told me, “Get that slutty body back on top of me.”
Armed with a general idea of what I liked, Paul now pressed his thigh, maybe a bit too forcefully, between my legs. Too hard but that was alright, I adjusted and began rocking on him as we kissed.
The whining that generally preceded my orgasms soon returned. This time, instead of freaking out, Paul grabbed my ass and controlled my body once he could feel my rhythm. For a moment, I let myself go as my lover yanked on my hair and pulled on my ass to leg-fuck me.
It only took a moment.
“Unhhhhhhhh!” I wailed.
Paul let go with both hands as he pulled back to marvel at my orgasm as if it was the greatest thing he’d ever seen. I shuddered through it, eyes closed to see the stars flashing as emotions thundered through every nerve in my body.
“Damn, we do have a new girl in the building,” he joked once the theatrics were over.
We kissed some more and I could feel wetness below. “Time to clean up,” Paul told me, “Do a good job, now.”
I licked off his thigh but that wasn’t enough. “You, too,” he said so I reached down to wipe up my cum and licked my fingers cleaned as he watched.
“I feel like such a slut,” I said as I found the last major wet spot.
“And…?” Paul asked, leading me.
No hesitation – “And I love it.”
I thanked him. I kissed him. I told him how much I loved his cock. I thanked him some more.
I took the sips of beer when offered. I got dressed and let the neighbors take turns kissing me goodnight.
I strutted victoriously down the hall to my own apartment. Through my actions that night, I had entered into a pact with the neighbors. An agreement whereby they could say whatever they wanted to me and treat me as badly as they might. I would make love to them with my mouth anytime they asked. I’d dress any way they wanted and would buy some lingerie to wear for them. Through my own suggestion, our pact would even include their friends if they wanted. I would thank them for letting me suck them off. They were done calling me by my old name; they preferred to think there was a new girl in the building.
The new girl, Olivia, conveniently lived just down the hall. Even better, she was a slut.
Fun!
I was venting while stretching and burying my fingers in my hair. Ted thanked me. “You’re the only one who volunteered, you know.”
“I’ve got a soft spot for you, I guess. I’d have felt guilty sleeping in all week knowing you were here alone working against a deadline.” >
“Well, it is my job,” he told me.
Ted had been doing so well, they eliminated a position at headquarters and moved the work to him. He was sure he could handle it but he had a lot of catching up before the monthly reports were due so our boss asked for volunteers to help out.
“I like helping you,” I simply answered.
“And, if you don’t mind me saying, I like looking at you.” He had been gawking as I arched my back and added, “I don’t know if your girlfriend appreciates it but you’re really something.”
“She barely seems to notice,” I told him.
“I get it,” he replied, “she likes you dressing up but doesn’t care that you’re a total sexpot.”
I chuckled and repeated, “Sexpot… Ha!”
I didn’t mind going in early to work so long as Ted was going to be there. He was the one bit of normalcy in my life. He offered to pay me back by taking me to dinner but I knew I had to decline. “Hey, this is all going on my timecard!” I said with a smile, “No need for you to do anything.”
Shelly was trying to be nice to me. She seemed to pull out this different side every few months or if I started showing less interest in her. She had asked me earlier about going out to meet up with a guy she thought would like me but I wasn’t enthusiastic.
“I can get you to meet JJ. I know he’ll like you. Afterwards,” she offered, “we can go back to your place and I can show you how turned on I get seeing you around guys.”
The idea of being sexual with a girl had officially become gross. I snarled in disgust as I keyed my reply, saying I wasn’t sure if I was interested. Shelly was offering to “reward me” with, I don’t know – kissing touching, or god forbid she might try to go down on me. Ewww.
Of course, she just assumed I wasn’t sure about meeting a new guy. “Come on now. We both know you’ll probably like it once you get started.”
“I don’t know…” I answered. Sure, meeting someone new sounded great but how many times could I use the neighbors as an excuse to get out Shelly’s reward afterwards?
It was an hour later when she messaged with the lesson idea. “Dancing! I’ll come over and help you learn how to dance like a girl!”
Dancing did sound fun… “Do you have a leotard?” she asked.
“A black one – I wear it for stretching sometimes but I don’t know…”
“I’m a blonde now,” she replied, “I think you’ll like it.”
How in the hell could she think I was into blondes or cared about her hair color?”
“And we can see how you move in heels!” she wrote, “What would you wear?”
Leotard… I started to picture it. “I have a cute pair of over-the-knee boots I haven’t worn yet.”
“Perfect!” she replied. “Get yourself dolled up a little. We’ll have some fun! See you around 7!”
I knew Shelly. My reply didn’t matter once she declared victory. Still, I’d been thinking I should learn how to dance. I guessed that I’d be able to keep her from wanting to do anything more.
I never thought of my leotard as something I’d wear around anyone else but as I got ready that evening, I put together the outfit in my head. The leotard was low-cut and if I wore it with hose and my tall boots… mmm, it might be the sort of thing the guys down the hall would like.
I sure wasn’t going over there again in just jeans and a sweater, that was for sure.
By the time Shelly tapped on my door I was convinced that I needed to show Paul and Enrique the outfit and had also convinced myself they’d love it. I almost went over but, doing the math, there was no way I’d make it back by seven o’clock and I didn’t want Shelly knowing that I was hooking up without her arranging it.
We never did kiss hello and I was thankful for that when I opened the door. She smiled and seemed genuinely happy to see me. Her words were believable when she told me I looked sexy. Then, to my surprise, Shelly revealed she had driven over in a black leotard beneath her woolen coat. My eyes lit up; this was NOT like her.
“So, you like me in this?” she said coyly, modelling as if I was into her.
“I’ve just… you never…” I stumbled. Except for our first night, that girl dressed as if her clothes had to always reinforce the point that she would not be treated as a sex object. She was like a hard-core feminist who felt showing skin would discredit the cause. Her exception was visits to Don’s and I could tell she didn’t like having to dress like that.
“Come on, let’s get some music on,” she suggested as she moved some furniture in my purple living room.
She surprised me by actually knowing how to move like a woman as we danced. And not just the bare minimum, Shelly knew some pretty hot moves. Puzzled, I asked her about it.
She answered, “A guy I dated was into it so I tried to learn a little. But the idea of actually dancing like this in front of people is crazy, right?”
I was thinking just the opposite; how hot it would be to throw my hair around on a crowded dance floor and grind into some guy. Mmm.
As if she felt compelled, she added, “He was a total pervert. A real freak.”
I bent at the waist and shot back up, causing a cascade of dark brunette all around me. Yeah, it would be a blast to go dancing.
“You’re doing great,” she told me but added, “You know, not like anyone wouldn’t know you’re a guy. Your dancing’s fine but, of course, you still look like a boy in makeup.”
She seemed to make a point of saying that every time we were together. It was as if she would slip and tell me I was pretty then seem to tell me I looked like a boy as if that was a message on a cue card that she had to deliver.
We went on for a while, maybe three-quarters of an hour. Shelly proclaimed me a fast learner but, more importantly, she paused and with a quizzical look told me, “You really move well as a girl, like it just comes naturally or something. Isn’t it hard for you?”
“I just need to focus,” I told her.
I was lying. From the way I sat down at my desk at work to flipping my hair back as I chatted with Ted, the machinery that drove my body had become completely rewired to feminine. There was no focus, no effort, no thought. I was Olivia, after all.
“Well, you’re really great,” she concluded.
“I had a good teacher.” I figured she’d want to hear that.
We got a glass of water in my kitchen and that’s when she brought up the guy again. “His name’s JJ. I know him from a friend and we both think he’d really like you.”
She was uncomfortably close and giving off confusing signals. I looked at the floor, my inner voice panicked and chanting, “Please don’t kiss me, please don’t kiss me!”
I think she really did get turned-on seeing me as Olivia and knowing I was getting together with the guys she set up for me. Some of it, I guessed, was power. She liked being in control.
But she also got turned on by me, by watching me.
Where she wasn’t being honest was any suggestion that she wanted to be with me. I could tell that girl had no more interest in blowing me than I did in having her do it. We had entered an odd state that would spell the end of our relationship, though that would take a little more time.
We stood there in my kitchen wearing black leotards, me in tall heels and Shelly in sneakers. She leaned in and I leaned back, hiding my revulsion at the idea of sexual contact with a woman. Shelly feigned interest that I didn’t want. I hid my disinterest so as not to anger her. I might have been ready for her to break up with me but that girl still terrified me. There was no telling what she might do.
It’s not like I’d seen a collection of human bones at her house or like she was always cleaning her guns when I came over. Shelly didn’t need to make any overt signals that she was dangerous. It was the sum of all the little signals and you wouldn’t know unless you spent enough time with her but I had come to learn I was dating a psychopath who might just set out to ruin me if I got on her bad side.
“You see, Shelly,” I began.
In the time I strutted around my apartment wearing the slutty dance outfit, I’d come up with a plan. I began to deliver my rehearsed lines.
“When you get me around guys, I…”
The hesitation was planned; better to look sincere and as if I was struggling to confess.
“I just start thinking about…”
“Oh! I get it!” Shelly cut in as if reading the script, “It’s about cum, isn’t it?”
I silently nodded.
“You really are into that stuff, aren’t you?” she noted with a judgement as if she wanted to add, “What’s wrong with you?” but she didn’t. More lies but that’s what our relationship was.
I just nodded again.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got me then, right?”
“I’d never have known if it weren’t for you.”
That was the first truth spoken in our conversation. Shelly would never know how much I adored the act of taking a man in my mouth. Swallowing was beautiful but it was hardly all I wanted.
“Well, after all you’ve done to get it, let’s get you what you want,” she declared. I could tell my plan had worked. “We’ll go meet JJ this weekend and, assuming you do well, I’ll talk to your neighbor Paul and see if he’ll let you hook up again. How’s that?”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Are you going to be around?” I replied, “I’d love to see you. I got a new outfit to show you!”
“You need more dick?”
“Always.”
I was trying to be fun and slutty but Enrique couldn’t help being a jerk. He replied, “You sure do! Ha!”
Both the guys were mean to me but Enrique was a total asshole. From his teasing to his power trip of coming on my face, that guy was the worst.
Of course, it would take me a while to care enough. I just ignored his insult. He’d forget about it once we were together. That guy loved sex with me.
“Remember, she doesn’t know we’re talking, okay?” I told him.
“Not gonna fuck up a good thing,” he replied, “I’m still working on her anyway. She thinks I’m not into it and Paul’s the only one who likes you.”
The crazy thing is that when he sent that message I actually felt like it was a fair exchange. He would keep from telling Shelly that I had a thing going with the guys and, in return, I would put on some lingerie, go to his bedroom, kiss him, make love to his cock, jerk him off onto my face and then eat his cum as he looked down at me and called me names.
Sure, that’s an even trade.
It seemed that all the guys Shelly hooked me up with had some kind of baggage or quirk. “JJ’s never had a threesome,” she explained on the afternoon before I’d meet him, “He’s got a girlfriend so I think the best way to get him interested is if we offer to both do him.”
“Like we did with Don?” I asked.
“Exactly! A lot of perverts have that fantasy. Girlfriend or not, he’ll say yes, I just know it.”
Another guy with a steady girlfriend. I would have asked her to just find a single guy but it wasn’t like she offered a menu and I was convinced that I was in a beggars-can’t-be-choosers state. “Let’s dress alike,” she said, “guys are into that. I’ve got a halter top, do you?”
Did I have a halter top? I had a half-dozen. We agreed on jeans and I dressed thinking, “Shelly has a halter top?”
She picked me up wearing a denim jacket and… were those tight jeans? On Shelly? She looked like a completely different person.
Sure, I had tight jeans on and six-inch heels and tiny pink halter that about the smallest legal garment I could find. But Shelly?
As I sat in her car, I asked about her clothes.
With a sigh, she confessed, “I told you my ex was a pervert. He got this for me, the whole outfit. The jerk actually thought I’d wear it on the vacation we took.” She paused to take a turn and seemed to recall her feelings. “I remember I was so excited. We were on a romantic weekend and going out dancing and he says, ‘I got you something you might want to wear tonight’. What a total jerk.”
“They’re just tight jeans.”
“And a top that’s basically a bra. I told him I wasn’t a bimbo or a whore and we got in a big fight.”
I didn’t know how to react. Not only did I love the halter but, in my jacket pocket, I carried the slut necklace Paul had given me. I guessed it was too much but wanted to be ready in case I decided to put it on.
Glad I didn’t.
“JJ waits tables here on the weekend,” she explained, “We’ll just make sure we get in his section then I’ll do all the talking, alright?”
“Sure.”
“You just look at him with those eyes,” she told me, “you know, like the way I saw you look up at Don when you were on your knees with him.”
“I remember.” God, did I remember.
And not just Don. I was so deeply in touch with my submissive erotic side that unless I was at work, it was practically my steady emotional place. Yeah, I could give her mark the look Shelly wanted.
We arrived and waited until she could tell where JJ was working and then we sat down. Shelly kept her jacket on but I was eager to show off my new body. Shelly took notice and then seemed to try to temper her reaction as she said, “Still look a bit like a guy but I think with the two of us, this should work.”
JJ came by and Shelly ordered a dessert for us to split. I just looked up at him and pictured giving head to one more man. My inner voice said, “Yeah, Shelly, he’s cute. He can have me.” I had no doubt my eyes conveyed the right message.
When JJ returned to check on us, Shelly unbuttoned her jacket and let it slip from her shoulders. She actually did have a halter top! I stared into space and just sat there trying to imagine her boyfriend’s reaction as she blew up at him for thinking she’d wear it.
As I pondered Ms. Frigid, she was telling the waiter that I had an instant crush on him. “You think maybe my friend,” she said in a poorly done sultry tone, “well, maybe the two of us could have a taste of you after we taste this dessert?”
Worst pick-up line ever.
“Sorry, can’t tonight,” was his reply.
Of course, the girlfriend.
“How about tomorrow?” she asked. Once JJ declined, Shelly took her jacket off completely and put a hand on my thigh, “For a guy like you, we make house calls.”
Hmm, the “house calls” idea was cute. She was desperate but getting better.
He didn’t hesitate further and we soon had an address.
I was a mess.
I, in the meantime, looked around the room, hoping to make eye contact with any man who was noticing me. Sadly, there were only couples that night and though I engaged a few welcome glances, I wouldn’t be making any new acquaintances.
“So, he doesn’t know about me,” I observed as we walked to her car.
“No, but I’ll keep you safe,” she replied. One thing was true about Shelly, she kept me safe. Under her wing, I never worried about some guy wanting to fuck me and I did trust her words.
She paused before starting her car. She was sending a message and told me, “I’m telling Paul that it’ll be tomorrow night.” She quickly got a reply and giggled. “He says, ‘whatever you say, chief!’ My roommate will be over at a buddy’s.”
“Hmm, the roommate…” she said aloud and typed a reply.
With an unfamiliar tone, she said to me, “He’s obviously the handsome one. Enrique says you’re not his type. I’ll bet that makes you sad, doesn’t it?”
Wow. That was a doozie. If I wasn’t his type, I didn’t know who would have been. And was that… jealousy? But, alright, I’d go along. “Paul likes it, I think,” was all I said.
When Shelly then said, “Hmm, Enrique’s a cool guy, isn’t he? Maybe I need to get to know him better?” I stayed quiet. Shelly’s future flashed before me.
Enrique would pursue her patiently as he did with his prey. Slowly and methodically, he’d try to mold her. He wasn’t without his charm if he tried and, sure, he was very handsome. Would Shelly go along? Would she be fooled? Would she end up taking his load on her face? She was sure to find out what he was really like and then… damn, I’d hate to be Enrique. I was about at the point where I felt that was justified – for both of them.
“Yeah, he’s the cool one,” I calmly replied.
It was a weekend of lies. Riding in her car, I couldn’t wait to go see the guys. Sure, they were jerks but at least we were all honest in those bedrooms.
“So, tomorrow,” she began. Shelly was back to business, the business of hooking me up. I’ll pick you up at eight. Just come back out once you’re done.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be waiting in the car.”
“But you told him…”
“Jimmy, I’m not getting my mouth near another one of those things unless I have to. I saw the way he looked at you. You’ll be just fine.”
“But he doesn’t know…”
“You’re going to show up at his door to suck his dick. Men are terrible, he won’t care even if he suspects you’re a boy.”
That night really was a turning point. I realized that the primary emotion keeping us together was fear – my fear. And Shelly wasn’t my protector. It was like she was on a mission and my well-being wouldn’t hinder its success. I just had to find a way out.
Shelly mistook my thoughts and went on, “You’ll be fine, really. I’ve seen how you can be with guys. Just put on the same act and then, you know, when you get what you want, act yourself. You’re really hot when you get cum, you know.”
She actually thought it was an act. I had become certain that girl never enjoyed sex.
Cum… Paul was waiting for me. Enrique, too. The chances of them respecting Shelly’s postponement were just about zero. I’d be in one of their bedrooms and showing my love soon. Gauging from the gas station we just passed, I was about two minutes from the apartment building, after a change of clothes, fifteen minutes from apartment 4D. I wondered which one would have me first? I looked at the passing streets and landmarks, willing them to go by faster.
“Trust me, Jimmy,” were the words that interrupted my thoughts, “you’ll get what you want and I’ll be ready to take you back home.”
“Okay,” was my vapid response. Shelly didn’t know me at all. I was becoming aware she didn’t really like me much, either. That night marked the beginning of the end for us.
“It’ll be fine,” were her last words as I got out of her car. I left Shelly and imagined her rushing home to get into sweatpants, possibly burning the revealing outfit from her boyfriend. I actually thought it was cute on her but I was sure she would have been angry to hear that.
Once inside, I quickly changed into the leotard. I skipped the hose. I’d learned the hard way that cum was hard to get out of panty hose and I guessed Paul might like to see me climax for him. Mmm… men… I rushed through changing and was in my white coat with the leopard fur trim, slipping back into my tall pumps and ready for love.
I tapped on the door. There was no way the guys were being straight when they told Shelly they’d wait until tomorrow. Enrique answered. “So, we’re getting you two nights in a row, slut?” he asked (or said, actually) as he let me in.
“I hope so,” I told him as I passed by. These guys were predictable; they wouldn’t object.
“I like it,” Paul said of my outfit. He didn’t bother getting off the couch. “I love that you’re trying for us, am I right, En?”
“I wore my new necklace,” I pointed out. The guys took note and smiled.
“Pull down that top so we can see your tits, you freak,” Enrique commanded. “You know, I played Bekka for months, trying to get her to come around but you… you’re just a natural, aren’t you?” he said.
“Who’s Bekka?” I asked as I shifted to one hip after slipping my arms out of the leotard.
The man on the couch answered, “That’s his ex, I gave you her necklace and she wore that one once, remember?”
“Oh, right,” I replied, touching my neck, “it’s okay that I wore it, right?”
“You come over here in a slut collar and you think we’re going to object?!!!” Enrique said, nearly howling. He took a breath as he smiled and admired me in my special choker. Talking to Paul, he said, “You know, I was probably just a little early getting Bekka to wear it. Next time, I’ll wait just a little more so I can really get another cumslut.”
“You’re a pro, En,” Paul agreed, “Didn’t help she was engaged. You’ll train another someday.”
There was a girl named Bekka in the complex; I had met her at a party in the common room. She seemed nice enough, maybe a little bossy, definitely not the type to let a guy do that to her. Enrique’s method must really be something. I ran into her at the mailboxes a few days before and introduced myself as Olivia, said I was new to the complex. While I didn’t think she recognized me, she still looked at me with a knowing smile and said something really odd.
She told me, “I just got back from a trip to Vegas and you remind me of someone I met there.” Looking as if she was trying to make sense of what she saw, she went on, “Something about you, Olivia… reminds me of Desiree…”
“Desiree?” I asked.
With a grin, she waved me off, “Oh, sorry. That’s another story.”
After that, her eyes followed me like a stalker. Maybe it was in my head but I’d swear that girl gave me signals like she wanted me to go down on her. If I had any kind of normal relationship with my neighbors, I would have told Paul and Enrique about the encounter.
The guys took note of my body and Enrique commented, “Damn… if only I could get a real chick who acted like you do. Yeah, I almost had my ex there…” He stared at my chest and went on, “Yeah, she took one load from me,” (I knew that meant Bekka let him come on her face) “It took a lot of mind-fucking, A LOT, I tell you.”
“It’s his specialty,” Paul interjected, proudly thumbing to his roommate, “He once got a girl to agree to let him hold his camera and make a video!”
Enrique nodded with a big grin, “She got so pissed when I posted it online!”
They both laughed. My neighbors were assholes.
“He can get girls to do anything,” Paul summarized.
“Wasted talent with someone like you,” Enrique said. I sure didn’t need to be tricked or manipulated – any more than I already was, that is. When he said, “Go ahead, Paul, I’ll take seconds,” I offered my hand so Paul could take me to his room.
Once situated, I lay down with my head on his stomach and held him in my hand.
I began to purr.
As if in awe, Paul noted, “You really do love it, don’t you?”
“Your cock?”
I turned my head to see him nodding then back to the object in my hand. “I can’t explain it,” I began. Paul would hear the words I couldn’t utter to Shelly. “It’s everything, it’s the way this makes me feel, it’s the tactile sensation when it’s in my mouth, the way I can make you feel… I love it, Paul, all of it. I don’t know if anyone ever felt so right in the world as I do when I’m making love with my mouth.
“You’d be something if you had a pussy,” he told me.
Curious, I asked, “Don’t you like getting head?”
“Sure, Olivia and, trust me, you’re the best. But, you know, BJs are like accessory sex. Guys like fucking.”
“It’s that important?” I knew nothing about real men. I was sure that I never was one.
He put a hand in my hair, “Sorry, Babe but don’t worry. We’re having fun with you for now. I guess you should know this is all you’ll ever be, just a cum whore.”
I was still in the low trough of my new life. “That’s fine with me,” I replied before I took him in my mouth.
By the time I was ready to go, Enrique had to open the door to check that the hallway was clear. He sent me home with his cum still on my face. Denying me the chance to clean up first was just one more way for him to assert himself over me. I went into my shower and masturbated in the warm water, equally warm memories of my time down the hall driving my orgasm.
Coming home with groceries early Saturday night, I could hear my neighbors from the hall as I started to open my door.As I put things away, my mind drifted back to being with them. I’d had a break of only a day and would see JJ the next night.
Ted and I had made plans to watch our show at the same time and I pictured myself messaging back and forth and laughing alone in my living room as we made jokes.
Looking at the time, that was an hour away and I couldn’t stop thinking about being with a man if I had the chance. With a bit of courage, I closed the refrigerator once unpacking was done, spun on my tall mary janes and went down the hall.
“You guys having a party?” I asked. The guys made a point of asking me to come over in lingerie but I didn’t have time to change out of my simple jeans and sleeveless turtleneck outfit. I smiled and hoped they wouldn’t mind since, at least, the sweater was tight enough to get me some looks in the produce aisle.
Always worried someone might know I was visiting, Paul ushered me inside quickly. He then called to Enrique, “Hey, the slut’s here!”
He took a moment, then offered to let me pour a glass of champagne, while explaining, “We got a half-hour, here, you can toast while you’re here but then you gotta get back home before anyone sees you. Sorry, no dick for you tonight.”
I took the glass and sat to learn that a friend had gotten a new job and they were throwing a little celebration for him. Enrique joined us, initially displeased to see me but calmed when Paul assured him I’d be gone before their friends showed up.
As if I didn’t understand, Enrique explained, “Can’t have anyone know where you live, see. What if someone asks about you and finds out you’re Jimmy?”
“Your friends know about me?”
“Hell yeah,” Paul replied, “But we told them we picked you up on a bar.”
“And that we’re fucking you,” Enrique added, then turned back toward his room.
Maybe it was because sex was off the table or the fact that I was wearing normal clothes, talking with people outside of work but, whatever the reason, when Paul left me alone, I had a moment of introspection.
Normalcy. Going over to the neighbors, sharing a drink. Celebrating a promotion. Going on a walk and not getting picked up by a guy who wants to ass-fuck me. Okay, the last one really should have been possible but still…
Coming back into the room as he zipped his fly, Enrique paused to stare. “Damn,” he said, shaking his head, “Those tits. I’ll never get over what you did to yourself for that girl.” He shook his head again and said, “It’s like she was the wrong person for you to meet.”
Paul called out from the kitchen, “Or the right one!” and they laughed.
“Hey, drink up, you gotta be gone,” Enrique said, obviously worried their friends might find out they were getting head from the neighbor.
“Oh, right,” I said as if acknowledging I was an embarrassment. At least I got to leave without cum in my hair. The guys went back to getting ready; neither said goodbye.
Instead of being bothered by the absence of manners, I left with thoughts of Shelly. Was she the wrong person or the right one for me to meet?
Back home, I undressed and put on a cute pink cropped T-shirt that I bought for wearing around the house. I liked wearing it without a bra and pictured myself looking sexy/casual with just panties on as if I might wear the outfit to bed if I had a roommate.
Was Shelly good for me in the long run? I couldn’t know but I couldn’t land on a decision about whether she had been right or wrong for me so far. Sure, I was finding moments of indescribable bliss and had found true passion – the kind of emotion few people ever know.
But the cost… At my core, I knew I wasn’t a “real” person, I was more like a thing and I knew that had to end. How, when… I had no idea but I suspected that I’d have to wait it out to render a verdict on Shelly’s influence.
Standing in my living room and looking at the full-length mirror on the inside of my open closet door I had to admit that I liked what had become of the way I looked. Would I ever truly and completely like what was inside?
Ted messaged: “Five minutes!” excited to start our remote evening together. My good friend would take my mind off of the question.
Too Late!
“Get him to tell you about Kim before you leave,” Shelly told me as we drove to JJ’s, “That’s his girlfriend. See how guilty he acts.”
She had a thing for fucking up relationships. Shelly, I was sure, was not a nice person.
“You sure this is safe?” I asked. I would never tell her about my near miss but, then again, she was sending her boyfriend to a stranger’s home with the intent of having sex with him. Anyone would think that was risky.
She didn’t really hear me and, instead, just said, “Kim, that’s her name.”
I wore a cap that night, for some reason extra nervous about being seen. I looked out at the passing storefronts and thought about how JJ had looked at me, worrying what he might want from me.
Before getting out of her car, she reminded me, “Don’t bring up Kim’s name until after he gets off, okay?”
“I got it.” So many rules. I had a message from Ted with the third invitation to get together that I would have to decline.
As I waited for the elevator, I read, “Just lunch?” he replied, “I’d like to see you this weekend.”
Rules. Shelly’s rules. “Sorry, can’t,” I messaged back to the only person who seemed to really care about me.
She had already messaged JJ from the car; he would only expect me but didn’t seem to mind. A message from her appeared as I declined Ted’s invitation, asking, “Send me a picture. I told a friend we were doing this and she wants to see how you look.”
I sighed and gave her what she wanted as I rode up. I wouldn’t ask about the friend, if there was one. If Shelly needed some kind of trophy picture before she sent me to get another guy to cheat on his girlfriend, that was her business.
My experience with guys in relationships was limited to Jerry. I could see why his girlfriend liked Jerry even if I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t into blowing him. He was a real sweetheart and I felt both attracted to him and sorry to messing with his relationship.
As I arrived at JJ’s door, I was about to learn that Shelly’s set-ups to screw with relationships wouldn’t all be the same.
“Niiiice,” JJ commented upon seeing me. He was out of his polite workplace demeanor and I was apparently seeing the real JJ. He let me in and told me to put my coat on his sofa. “So, you like cruising restaurants for waiters, is that your thing?” he asked.
Going along seemed like a great way to avoid any suspicion about this being a set-up. “I couldn’t help but notice you,” I replied coyly.
He took ahold of one hip. “I thought about you all through my shift, Sugar.” Then he took the other hip and said, “I thought about us and what we could be doing if everyone else left.”
It seemed like a good time to let him know there would be no fucking. I couldn’t tell Shelly about my near-miss with Rodge and was more worried about what a guy might want after what Paul had told me that guys aren’t really satisfied with only getting head. “I thought about you in my mouth,” I said.
That seemed like enough conversation for him. We began kissing.
I let him take off my top and I pulled his T-shirt off. “You like sucking, Sugar?” he teased.
“Soooo much.”
“Come over here to your table,” he invited, “just like how you were.”
I sat down at his little kitchen table. JJ spun around and grabbed an empty mug. “Your coffee, Miss,” he said as he placed it on the table, “Can I get you anything else? Some cream, maybe?”
“Mmm, cream. Yes, absolutely.”
He took his pants off and stroked his own cock as I watched. “You like coming here?” he asked, playing his waiter game. He seemed less spontaneous than was healthy, like he actually thought about this happening.
“I’m going to like it better when you come,” I teased back.
He stepped over to my side of the table, straddled me and then sat on the table, leaned back and wrapped his legs around me. “It’s time for my tip,” he said.
I’d blown guys while they stood and in bed. JJ was the first on a kitchen table. It didn’t seem comfortable for him but he was really into his waiter fantasy. I was able to stay seated in my miniskirt so I sure didn’t care. For me, it was just another cock to have, a cock to love, a cock that would treat me right if I treated it right.
I knew no other way.
JJ was soon shuddering on the lightweight table. I wondered if we might break it but didn’t want to stop.
He sat up and took ahold of my hair, controlling my head with just enough of the rough handling that I’d come to love. He let out a long, muffled exhale when he came in my mouth. JJ came like it was pent-up for weeks - long, heavy shots, one after another. I delighted in the volume and caressed his thigh as I pumped him.
“Mmm, so much!” I said, unable to help myself.
“Sorry, it’s been a while.”
“I can tell,” I said like the experienced slut I’d become. I loved giving head, no matter what, but if JJ declined the night before because he was seeing his girlfriend, it seemed she didn’t get him off. “Girlfriend not taking care of you?” I asked.
He winced a bit. “No girlfriend. I mean, I had one but she dumped me last week.” He spun a leg over my head and then stood on the floor.
“No girlfriend?” I asked before I thought about it.
He shook his head and asked, “How about you?”
There was nothing I liked about that guy except that he was properly equipped. Plus, he didn’t know that blowjobs were as far as I could go. Anyway, Shelly had taught me that I was not allowed to make my own plans with the guys she introduced me to. “I’m seeing one of my neighbors,” I answered, “Hope you don’t mind. I guess I just had a waiter fantasy I needed to get out of my system.”
I could only hope Shelly wouldn’t somehow blame me. It seemed we were a week too late if I was supposed to suck off Kim’s boyfriend.
“Broke up?” she echoed once I gave Shelly the news.
“But don’t worry. He asked to see me again and I said no.”
“Dammit!” she complained, “Hold on.” Then she sent a message to someone. As I waited, I put on the necklace Paul gave to me and touched up my lipstick.
“Everything alright?” I asked as she messaged back and forth with someone. She didn’t seem happy. Was she talking to Kim? I wondered if was supposed to have tested JJ’s fidelity.
She put her phone down and started the car, curtly telling me it wasn’t a big deal. That’s what our relationship had come to. She executed a scheme to have me suck of someone’s boyfriend and after I returned to her from giving head, she found out it was for nothing and just shrugged, “No big deal.”
Just Another!
No, “Sorry I took you down this path to giving head.” No, “So, how was it?” No, “Do you like being a slut?” And certainly no, “Glad that didn’t become dangerous for you.” Nope. Just, “No big deal.”
At one point she noted my choker. Shocked, she asked, “What the hell have you got on?”
“Oh, it’s from Paul. He likes seeing me in it.”
“It says Slut?”
“Uh-huh. Sexy, right?”
“Damn, Jimmy…” was her reply, “I’m glad that’s from Paul and not his roommate.”
“Yeah, those guys are totally different.”
Different in that Enrique liked to control and abuse women, that was. Oh well, she didn’t need details. “Thanks for taking me back to him. I’m glad you understand how I’d like to see Paul now.”
“You know, I still like taking you to men. Sorry this one got screwed up,” she told me.
“He was fine.”
As I got out at home, she just said, “Tell Enrique I said hello.”
I would, but only after I spent time in Paul’s bed, lavishing his cock with attention. “Take your time tonight, Babe,” he suggested, “I like watching a slut like you enjoy herself.”
An extended play session followed. Paul liked reminding me that I wasn’t good for anything but giving head and that he wanted to find other guys for me to suck but, “I gotta be careful. Can’t let anyone find out what you are, you know. That would come back to me.”
“Uh-huh,” I agreed blindly. I didn’t really listen as I kissed and teased his erection.
He was completely aroused when Paul pulled himself up the bed and propped his pillows. “Go get a towel, I wanna see you get yourself off,” he asked.
“But you’re so close!”
“I know… I like watching what you do,” he told me.
I got a towel and started back to the bed, “Hold on,” he began, “Can you do yourself standing up?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Mmm, that’s what I want to see.” He then clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back, “Give me a little suck to keep me hard first.”
I leaned down and held my hair back to take him in deeply for a slow, passionate suck. “How’s that?” I asked.
“Such a good slut. Now, go ahead. Take off your underwear, I wanna see it happen.”
I took off my panties and spread the towel between my feet. With my eyes fixed on Paul’s erection, started to rub. Paul cooed his approval and I was soon whining and bucking.
“Damn but you’ve got great tits,” he said, commenting with emotion that fit his words, “I really wish you were real.”
I let myself hear just the first part and cupped a breast with my free hand. Standing and topless, I could feel my long hair falling about my shoulders, my back, upper arms, and my breasts. So soft and lovely, I’d long-since stopped being bothered by the work it required and simply loved having the hair that Shelly made me grow.
Paul’s tip glistened wet and my practiced movements had little trouble producing arousal.
With a long high-pitched release, my own cum shot out of me, hitting my butt crack where it gathered for a moment before dropping onto the towel.
“That’s so hot, Babe. Come do me now.”
After all the foreplay, I made him shudder as he came, giving me goosebumps while I jerked him off. Mmm…
Though I had tried not to hear them, his words rang just after I had eaten his cum. “I wish you were real.” What a shitty thing to say.
“Oh, before I forget, Shelly says hi,” I told Enrique when I had moved to his room.
“What’s she like?” he asked.
“Hard to pin down,” I began, “Secretly kinky, kinda prudish otherwise.”
“Hmm, that’s exactly my type. You dated her, you think I could break her down?” he asked.
That was a hard question. “Oh, Enrique, I have no idea. I’m nothing like you.”
“You sure the fuck ain’t,” was his simple reply, “now lie down on the bed, I’m gonna fuck your face.”
Without a question, I got onto the bed, my head just over the edge and positioned myself as Enrique took off his pants and approached me. I opened my mouth when he held is partly erect penis so he could insert it and when he told me to, “Start sucking,” I did.
Once hard, my awful neighbor began rocking and pulled hard on my hair so get the best angle for his entry. I fought off the gagging which should have at least impressed him and let myself drift into pleasure. I ignored the man, ignored the body attached and, instead, just thought of the stiffening shaft in my mouth. The way a cock responded to me with intent and desire gave me goosebumps and, I was sure, always would.
I wondered, for a flashing moment, as brought on the erection, if I might ever feel a connection – a real connection – with the man and not just his organ. Would I ever know love for a person that could match my love for a person’s cock?
As if muffled, I heard some words from above me. One of them was “slut” it brought my thoughts back to the moment, to my purpose, to my love.
Once hard, the cock quickly turned impatient. I bobbed my head a few times but was told to stop so that man’s strong hands could brace it instead. I was so focused on not gagging and felt one brutal entry after another. Enrique’s bucking picked up its tempo as if every insult enflamed his arousal until he quickly announced he was about to come. “Look at me, slut!” he called then withdrew and jerked off into my hair and onto my face. The massive explosion seemed to correlate with the arousal that humiliating me brought on.
It’s hard to think that wasn’t the end but, instead, when Enrique brought his spent cock back to me, I took it lovingly and suckled it as he heaved above and called me a slut again.
He made me leave, that night, carrying my clothes, cum dripping off my face as I ran down the hall, quickly hearing the door to 4D close and lock behind me.
Once in my shower, part of me looked back fondly on that visit and I felt the comfort of my role and excitement thinking about what I had done.
The other part of me said that I’d probably never want anyone to know what I left the neighbors do to me.
The first part won out as I started masturbating under the warm stream of water, taking fingerfuls of Enrique’s cum from face and hair and eating it as my other hand pulse me to orgasm.
No Talking!
”Come over tonight. We walk to talk to you about something,” was Paul’s message.
It had been a week since I nonchalantly put on a choker with “SLUT” written on it while riding in my girlfriend’s car. She didn’t really care that I wore it, I didn’t care that her shock lasted about two seconds and then she just moved on to a different topic.
She didn’t care what I had become and neither did I.
Paul and Enrique were both getting increasingly comfortable stopping by my place and visited several times that week. On a Saturday, Paul showed up completely drunk but managed to cum for me before puking in my living room. On another, Enrique made me beg for it before he let me jerk him off onto my face while kneeling on my hard kitchen floor.
While enjoying the low-point of my self-esteem, I’d gotten cozy with having a purpose. It was so comforting that I simply ignored the humiliation and the ridicule. I pushed aside the reality that I was in a relationship with someone for whom the sole emotions I felt were fear and dislike. I didn’t fret over what I’d done to my body or the fact that I’d slipped way beyond disguise and had truly become a girl named Olivia.
Instead of an ounce of reflection, I took joy in every sexual act I performed and spent the rest of my time preparing for the next one. If it weren’t for the fact I’d gotten so comfortable with tasks at work, I would have surely been fired but that job had become easy enough for me to accomplish on mental cruise control. Ted had officially become the only person who would talk to me and, while he noticed I’d become “detached”, he respected my wishes when I said I didn’t want to talk about it.
The guys had asked me to get some lingerie so when I was summoned that night, I wore my new red garter and hose set, complete with red pumps and matching red over-the-elbow gloves (fingerless, of course, so I could feel a cock when I would inevitably hold one).
I dropped my long coat with a big grin once I was in their place. “Jesus, we just wanted to talk about making plans,” quipped Paul.
His roommate shrugged, “But, hey, I’ll give you something before you go.”
Given how I showed up, Paul decided he wanted to get me alone and said he didn’t want to wait. “Mmm,” I cooed, “You like my new outfit?”
He surely did.
I was soon in his bed with my heels still on, my fingerless gloves getting put to use as I played with his cock. Paul set the mood by having the talk that was the reason for my visit.
“We’re going to share you,” he began, “You know, with some friends but we need to set ground rules.”
The idea of hooking me up with friends was getting us both going. Paul’s cock seemed to lurch a bit with the word “share”.
“Enrique told them that we’re fucking you and was really clear nobody can get near your pussy,” he explained, adding, “He pretty much threated to kill anyone who touches you below the waist.”
Unlike my girlfriend, the asshole neighbors seemed to want to keep me safe.
He went on, “We can’t risk anyone knowing you’re a freak…”
So much for them caring about keeping me safe…
“so you can’t tell anyone where you live and you definitely can’t come around these guys, cool?”
He had gotten totally hard. I leaned down to give the tip a kiss and then agreed, “Of course.”
“Alright,” he said in summary, “We just needed you to know the rules.”
I lived by others’ rules. That’s what sluts do.
Then he said, “Go ahead,” and I slid between his legs and loved the cock of the man who was going to share me with his friends.
I tapped on Enrique’s door after Paul was done and after I’d sipped a little beer from their fridge. We kissed for a while before I knelt to jerk him off, getting cum on my new red bra.
The Share!
I was back at their place two nights later to hear they were ready to move forward with their plan. Giggling like they were still in high school, Paul and Enrique explained they had arranged my first outing with one of their friends.
“He’s our favorite bartender,” Paul explained, “He’s heard us talking about you and we said there was enough of you to go around.”
“Free drinks, here we come!” Enrique boomed with a smile.
“Here’s the plan,” Paul started and then proceeded to explain that I would drive to the bar’s parking garage and their friend would come out during his break.
“You’ll borrow my truck,” Enrique said, “Can’t risk him ever recognizing your car later.”
Oddly, Enrique thought I had plans to at least try to return to life as Jimmy. I winced at the notion but he was the overly cautious type. “Do him in my backseat but make sure you swallow it all and don’t leave a mess!”
As if the whole thing wasn’t cheap enough, when the time came, I stopped by the guys’ place as planned. There, Enrique had me take off my skirt and sweater and then sent me out to the parking lot with nothing but bra and panties beneath a coat of his.
It was a ridiculously big thing and I took it off the moment I parked. I waited there too long and had a rare moment of reasonable thoughts enter my mind. I had no idea who was coming for me and my only comfort was that my asshole neighbors had good reason to make sure he knew not to touch me. Still, what kind of girl drives to a parking garage to blow someone’s bartender?
“You must be Olivia,” I heard, interrupting thoughts that I probably should have continued. Broken from my daze, I smiled and got up when he said, “Enrique said to use his back seat. Come on, Hottie.”
Okay, the “Hottie” comment was nice. In fact, the bartender went on to call me gorgeous, too, and that was before he felt my mouth on him. “Goddamn! You’re fucking incredible!” he called out as loudly as one might without getting the attention of someone else in a parking garage.
My ego was thoroughly satisfied, as was my need for cum. I returned to the neighbors to witness high-fives and hear the read the bartender’s glowing report for my skills and looks. Paul wanted to me to talk about it as we had sex that night and even Enrique had some nice words and came in my mouth for the first time in weeks.
Shelly had gone dormant during this time but I didn’t mind. The neighbors were having me regularly and even took me out to my second party. Chuckling as he explained, “We’re gonna, like, make it a contest!” Paul told me.
They would take me to a party and let the other guys know about my love for giving head. Then, they were going to sort of interview anyone interested, taking me around to their friends, and judge what they had to say in order to pick a winner.
“The guy we pick gets to take you out,” Enrique said, “Just remember the rules, right?”
I nodded.
Getting ready, I decided on a new pair of letherette pants that laced up the backside to my upper thighs. I’d wear them with a casual cropped t-shirt that would show off my waist. That was the night I realized how much I loved my clothes.
I found myself in my sweater drawer, sliding my hand between the out-of-season cashmere and delighting in its softness and thoughts of how my breasts looked so inviting to touch. Then to my work clothes, the snug-but-professional set of skirts and tops that had come to define the girl nobody talked to. Miniskirts, tight jeans, short-shorts and fun tops – my summer wear, most of which had never seen the light of day were part of the collection that kept growing every week even though I still stayed in my apartment building unless going to work or infrequent shopping trips. I could make so many great outfits!
As much as I loved my clothes, I knew that the people around me saw them differently. When they invited me to that party, the guys started to talk about what they wanted me to wear, then just laughed and said, “Eh, it doesn’t matter. You always dress like a slut!” Shelly had said the same thing.
But I just didn’t see my wardrobe that way. It was fun, flirty, and made me happy. I wondered, as I pulled out a miniskirts that I couldn’t wait to wear, if I’d ever find someone who liked my clothes without thinking they only advertised me for sex?
We would be among the first to arrive at the party. “Why so early?” I asked as we got out of the car. I looked at the building and tried to picture what the guys had in mind. I loved that they were going to show me off. They didn’t have to tell me that was part of their plan; taking me to a party where I’d hang on them as they made sure their friends all got a look – yeah, they wanted to show me off. It was a first for me and I was enthralled with the notion.
Then there was this contest-thing. I was less sure of that. It sounded more like a party icebreaker, asking, I supposed, “Why do you deserve to date our slut?” or something like that. Still, I imagined my teasing expression, a little giggling, maybe licking my lips as the boys talked. It sounded like fun and in we went.
Exactly as I guessed, Paul and Enrique kept me close by and beamed as I hung onto one, then the other. I could hear the pride as they explained, “Yeah, really, this is her, the chick we told you about. Hot, right?” One after another, their friends laughed and played along, describing their need for oral sex and eyeing me with anticipation.
I felt like the real winner when the guys declared not one, but two of their friends as winners. The pair, like Enrique and Paul, shared a place and one said, “Hell yeah, come on over and hang out. We’ll have some beers while we take turns with her.”
I had read that only a small percentage of girls have ever had sex with more than one guy in a day. It had become my norm and couldn’t wait for another pair.
The Brain
I felt like an out-of-place sex zombie as I dumbly went through my work days. A growing part of me was sure I was missing out by not acting like a real person.
Sluts, true sluts, don’t have friends and really don’t get anything out of working.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed and my only friend broke his “no prying” rule when things had gotten bad enough that even I started to worry about my future.
I sat my desk and clacked at my keyboard, my brain completely occupied with the idea that I was going to be delivered to two men I had only met so that I could blow them at the same time.
“So, I was going over the mid-year performance with your boss,” Ted began, “and he’s sure you could move up if you wanted to try a little.”
The fact that my friend was at my desk instead of my boss said a lot. He and Ted were peers and my boss’s office was nearby – down the hall, turn left, there it was. But I hadn’t been there in nearly a year. In fact, I hadn’t actually seen my boss in months. Instead, we had this understanding that I liked to be left alone and as long as my work was good enough, he did just that. As Ted smiled at me, sitting at ease on the corner of my desk, we both knew that my boss agreed Ted was the better person to deliver whatever message was coming from management.
To his suggestion, I could only shrug. Ted went on to say, “You know go to meetings…”
I cut him off. “I don’t do meetings.”
He smiled and nodded but I had to apologize. Maybe I should have explained why I didn’t want to be around others and that I’d devloped this new persona and she had completely taken over my body and maybe I didn’t really like it anymore and maybe I should try to be more and maybe…
“Sorry, not my thing,” I simply said.
“I know,” he acknowledged. His prying into my life wouldn’t go farther than the suggestion, “Just know that your work is fine but, really, Olivia, if you ever want more, he thinks… well, we think, you’d be a great trainer and you should be working at least one level higher but, you know, that would mean interacting with others.”
“I talk to you,” I blandly told him as if that was a defense.
Ted always smiled and he always made me smile. “You make my day,” he answered, “when anyone asks why I like being around you so much I always tell them they’re the crazy one, like, ‘Oliva’s the brightest, coolest person here!’ but, I guess you’ve not been interested in making other friends.”
I was going to be driven to some strange house or apartment where I’d have two guys at the same time. How many girls ever get the chance to do something like that?
“Not really,” I drolly told him.
“Olivia, is there anything you want to talk about?” he asked, “Maybe we can get lunch tomorrow or just take a walk?”
“Nope, I’m good. Just, you know, relationship stuff but I don’t want to get into it.”
With that, he tapped my desk and said he had to go. It was clear Ted knew there was something wrong but he respected my boundries.
It wasn’t until the following morning that I really thought about what he had to say. Makeup on, and about to get dressed for work, I lay back down on my bed and thought, only for a moment, about what it would be like to be a normal version of Olivia. Normal, with friends and a job she really liked and hobbies and going hiking and… the vision started to play but wouldn’t come into focus, though I tried.
Then Ted messaged me to excitedly talk about a show we were both watching the night before. I laughed aloud as we typed our words back and forth. That guy cracked me up and our messaging cleared my head of the angst I was starting to feel about being a slut.
It was nice to be reminded that I had a friend and took him up on his offer for a walk that day but I avoided any real conversation about what was going on with me, instead we just talked about our show and I got to hear about a backpacking trip he had planned before the summer was over.
The Next Share
The guys wanted their first car sex with me on the ride home and they took turns in the back seat. “Of course,” I answered when they asked if I ever gave head in a car. I actually felt relieved that I’d become experienced and suggested, “Just lean back,” when Paul didn’t know how he should sit.
Unwilling to risk any cum on his leather seats, Enrique came in my mouth again, holding my hair firmly when he let go while deep down my throat.
I had one more visit from Paul the day before we’d venture out to reward the winners and he watched me come twice in my bedroom before I went down on him. The sex had become both routine and consistently wonderful. It didn’t matter where or how the guys wanted me, I relished every encounter and every chance to please.
Enrique drove us to his friends’ place and I watched as the guys high-fived as if the four were champions or had accomplished something truly special.
The fact was that none of them had done anything of note. My guys simply had the good fortune of being down the hall when I decided to spend part of my life whoring around with my mouth. At best, their accomplishment was bullying me so that I mentioned them to my psychotic girlfriend. The ones we were visiting won the silly contest because they lived together. When Enrique asked if they’d let me suck them at the same time, they said agreed while the other roommate pair wouldn’t.
So, yay, boys celebrating after doing nothing, really.
I didn’t care. I just wanted to get back on my knees.
“We gotta have a few more beers first,” was the reaction when Enrique reminded his friends they had to share me at the same time. It would be a first for all three of us but the guys in the apartment agreed I looked like I would be worth it.
“And wait until you have her!” Paul added. With a hand on my ass, he told his friends, “Not kidding. This chick gives head like she was born for it!”
Noting his roommate’s hand, Enrique reminded them, “No touching below her waist, remember.”
When it was clear their friends wanted to get a little drunk before seeing each other’s dicks, Paul announced he’d warm me up and left the others so I could finally start getting what I’d come for.
“Damn, I wish you were real,” Paul noted once we were alone.
He seemed to like holding my ass and I smiled and said, “Like these jeans?”
The black jeans were the stretchy type, too casual for the office and the snug camisole had a little criss-cross feature that seemed to draw attention to my cleavage in a pretty, fun way.
I made love to Paul’s cock with no less affection than the first time I licked, kissed, and sucked the cock of an older man in his living room. Paul hummed and offered his usual encouragement as I bathed in the physical and emotional joy of the act that had come to define my existence.
Enrique would be next to take advantage of the wait for his friends to drink away their inhibitions. He was uncharacteristically passive as I blew him that night. “Don’t want to mess you up yet,” he explained as he sat on a bed and let me do all the work until I’d swallowed his cum.
It was impossible to know just how much cum I’d eaten by that point. I freshened up my makeup in a bathroom and wondered about the volume. Doing the math in my head, it was over a cup, maybe two.
I rejoined the boys and fell into Enrique’s lap when he pulled me down. They were half-watching baseball and talking about athletes in a way that sounded more like gossip than anything else. I didn’t have much interest so I just waited there and let Enrique play with my tits while I waited.
It took only two beers and a few reminders about my skills from Paul before our hosts were ready. They led me away to the sound of my guys cheering and Enrique calling out, “Treat ‘em right, slut!”
I made out with the pair, back and forth, for only a short time. It didn’t seem they were disinterested in kissing but, rather, the idea of watching me suck two cocks was getting them turned-on and they wanted to see me in action.
Once I was kneeling before two men, one of them commented, “Damn, such a shame, you know.” I was looking up at them, ready to take my cock worshiping to a new level. “I mean,” he went on to explain, “you’re absolutely gorgeous. Why would a babe like you think she needs to be a whore?”
In the moment, I just answered, “I just love this,” adding, “Come on, let me show you.”
The guys stepped forward and I took hold of both, giddy with the notion that at least four men would think of me as an even bigger whore when that day was over.
Once it began, the logistics of the fantasy soon showed its its impracticality. I jerked one while sucking the other but couldn’t really focus on either cock. The guys didn’t want to touch each other so I didn’t feel any hands on me. I wanted to go through with it because I wanted the reputation but, from the moment we got going, I could tell it wasn’t something I wanted to repeat.
It made me glad that Paul and Enrique always had me in turns and not together.
As soon as one of them came, he stepped away so I at least got to enjoy the second guy with the kind of focus that I craved. I swallowed his load, adding it to the uncertain volume that had entered my body and then thanked him for making the contribution.
I refused to think of Paul and Enrique as my boyfriends but it was hard to deny that they were. I blew Paul in the backseat on the drive home and Enrique followed me into my apartment when we got back. He left me kneeling with my face covered with his cum.
Over the following weeks, I would visit apartment 4D dozens of times. My neighbors’ moods would vary from seeming tired of me to surprising me with taps on my door after coming home drunk from a late night out.
I’d come for Paul while standing up, while fully clothed and while grinding on his leg. Paul continued to relish in telling me I would only know life as a slut – a whore no man would ever treat well. He went through a “show me” phase and liked making me open my mouth once I had his cum. I proudly complied like I was boasting each time.
His roommate would ensure I knew what it was like to not be treated well. He laid me on my back one night, my head just over the edge and my hands trapped beneath my body. Then Enrique entered my mouth. Once I was able to keep from gagging, he fucked me in that position, pulling out just to come on my face and my breasts. In our future hook-ups he would come on my face, my breasts and intentionally in my hair, then laugh as he’d remind me how hard it would be to get it out.
He started enjoying sending me home with cum all over my face so much that he always went second and he’d call me a cum whore, chuckling as I dashed down the hall to my door.
The bottom. I was at bottom. After being mercilessly skull-fucked on his bed and after taking his load on my face, I turned to see Enrique sitting on the floor as he caught his breath. “Let me see what I did to you,” he asked.
I smiled at him and I actually thanked him. “Can I come back next week?” I asked, “Maybe one night after work?”
The Wrong Path
It was Sunday in the late afternoon, the day after I’d blown both of my neighbors before they went out bar-hopping. “Olivia?” I heard from my left.
The only people I knew who might have been at the same grocery store were Paul and Enrique and they would never say hi to me.
I turned. “Ted? What are you doing here?”
My co-worker answered, “Watching the game at a buddy’s,” he gestured over his shoulder, “he lives over that way and said this was the closest place.” He closed with, “Beer run, you know.”
“Oh.” It was always nice to see Ted but I’d refused all of his invitations since Shelly didn’t allow it.
“You look great, as always,” he noted.
I got a bit stymied. “Oh… just out shopping,” then I touched my hair, “My hair’s just a mess… I didn’t have time…” I had, at least, washed all the cum out of it and was thankful for that.
“I do love your style, Olivia, even out of work.”
It was just a white tennis skirt and a halter top. “I love yours, too.” Ugh! What a dorky thing to say.
He said, “I messaged you this morning but, in case you didn’t see it, I was wondering if we could get together. I’d like to talk with you.”
So frustrating! Shelly had clearly made that boy off-limits. But I hadn’t heard from Shelly in over two months! Her possible reaction still terrified me. “Sorry,” I responded, “I was going to just talk to you at work. I’ve got plans tonight.”
He seemed more bothered than he should then he broke the awkward silence by saying, “That girlfriend of yours is a very lucky girl.”
“I just don’t know why nobody’s scooped you up yet, Ted! She’s out there somewhere!” I said in reply.
I was still thinking about Ted when Shelly messaged me an hour later.
“Your neighbor wants you to hook up with a friend of his. Go see him for the details. I said I’d drop you off,” was the extent of her message.
I replied with, “Hey, where have you been?” but got nothing more from her.
On Monday after work, I was back at 4D, where I learned about Carl, the next boy I would suck off.
“He’s such a douchebag!” Paul began, “always bragging about all these chick’s he’s had.”
“Kiki, Kiki, Kiki,” Enrique added, “Some Japanese whore who let him cum on her tits. His brother was doing her in college and Carl started joining in while he was still in high school. Fucker never shuts up about it!”
“So, we decided it would be awesome to have you go blow him,” Paul said.
His roommate quickly added, “It’ll be the greatest inside joke ever! Carl will be bragging about another hot chick blowing him and we’ll be the only ones who know it was a dude!”
It seemed stupid to me. “You’re not going to tell him?” I asked.
“Hell no!” roared Paul, “Best inside joke ever!”
The two high-fived.
Enrique got quiet and looked at me. “Look, I asked your girlfriend if she’d set it up and she told me she’d do it only if I took her out. That’s cool, right? I mean you two….”
“It’s cool,” I answered, “We’re not.”
“Yeah, I guessed. I figured this would be a good way to get with her, you know, like we can talk about hooking you up with other guys,” Enrique told me, then added, “Remember. It’s just Paul who’s been doing you, right?”
I nodded. Enrique and Shelly. I couldn’t imagine the devastation that would follow. Without being able to picture details, it was clear those two would end up in a war. Paul might likely become a casualty, too. Shelly was dangerous and Enrique was controlling, manipulative, and smart enough to be a truly scary individual.
Paul noted the time and apologized, “Sorry, can’t do you tonight, we got plans,” he simply told me, then opened the door so I could leave.
When I got back to my place I told Shelly that I had Carl’s address and added, “Is it okay now if I were to meet a guy, that I might go out with him without your permission?”
Her reply was clear. “What the hell gave you that idea? I made you what you are, Jimmy. You belong to me.”
“But I haven’t even heard from you all summer!” I replied.
“Pick you up Saturday at 11,” was her answer.
Summer had arrived and I was over Shelly. I had become Olivia, Olivia the slut. I got out of my work skirt and top then lay back on my bed, looking at Shelly’s terse messages. I kept my heels on because, I always masturbated after being with Paul and Enrique and what girl doesn’t like high heels when she’s getting off?
I looked at the name, Jimmy. So foreign, so far away. Shelly knew I wasn’t Jimmy anymore but she threw it out to hurt me or to assert herself or something else equally fucked-up.
Sure, I was Olivia, but there was more. As I thought about what awaited my girlfriend and not-boyfriend if they tried dating, I felt the warmth of justice and not a bit of guilt for letting it move forward without a warning from me.
For a long time, I’d known that I didn’t like Shelly. I stayed with her out of fear but I had appreciated her help. The neighbors, though, that was a different story. Those guys simply used me and I’d been downplaying or ignoring the terrible way they treated me.
I turned my legs side to side, my heels still on the bed as I realized I wasn’t horny. It wasn’t just because I didn’t blow the neighbors, there was something more. I was coming around to the reality that I deserved to like the guys I would be with. I told myself that wasn’t a crazy notion and even I deserved to be treated decently.
I wasn’t sure what I wanted but I had finally figured out I was on the wrong path.
The Last
“Yeah, it’s that one,” Carl says, gesturing at a window on the second floor. He looks over my shoulder, no doubt seeing the guys who tried to talk to me. They’re hunky types while Carl’s pretty ordinary and makes a shitty first impression.
I make it clear that I’m his for the taking. I can only wonder what the guys behind me are thinking as I take Carl’s arm. He’s got a certain saunter in his walk, like it’s not the first time a girl has offered herself to him. Interestingly, Carl’s really not that special. He’s not particularly attractive and doesn’t give off the kind of charisma that a guy like Ted has.
Still, I’m in a mood and on a mission. I’ll be on my knees for this boy as soon as we’re alone.
Carl becomes more disappointing as we make our way to his apartment. “Of course, a hottie like you would find me here. I can’t hide from girls like you.”
As he opens the door, I have to hear about Kiki. It was just like the guys told me. “It all started with this sexy little Chinagirl, Kiki, that chick was so into me!” he told me.
For a moment I long for the companionship of a friend. “Sounds fun,” I drolly respond but then add, “Is she around?” The moment I ask, I realize that Kiki’s probably not the kind of friend I need.
“Nah,” he replies, “She was something but that’s another story.”
Looking at Carl, I have no idea what anyone would see in him. Still, I have this slut mentality in my head and a sense of duty to Shelly that I need to re-examine… later. “I’m glad we’re alone,” I tell him.
Carl takes ahold of me as if his experience holding women was limited to livestock. How the hell is this jerk a womanizer?
For what’s coming up, I feel I’m just going through the motions. I don’t feel anything from his kisses. I assume that’s because he’s so vanilla. No, he’s worse; Carl’s actually a bad kisser. Too much tongue and his lips are like cardboard. I enjoy his cock enough but it’s not like the religious experiences of my past. Is that because I don’t care much for this guy or is it something else?
He wants to cum on my face but I demur, “Sorry, Carl. I have to walk out of here, you know,” I tell him. The old me would never say no… to anything.
His cum is fine but just that – fine. I pause and try to recreate the magic but, no.
Where’s the emotional moment, the racing heart, the goosebumps?
Surely, some of that is because I’m with some poser but there’s more going on.
“It’s been great, Carl. I’ll see ya,” I simply tell him.
I go back out by the pool. Time to message for my ride home.
I stand there, entirely too long. I’m supposed to simply send a message so I get picked up. It’s not a hard thing to do. There’s nothing to think about.
Two minutes… then five.
Finally, I message for my ride.
I hit “send”.
It shouldn’t make me so anxious but it does.
Bath And Clearer Head
I’m wearing the bikini bottom under my shorts and I’ve got a wait so I pull off the shorts and climb into the pool.
My lifestyle has deprived me from every normal pleasure a person might enjoy. I haven’t been in a pool for years.
The idea that I’m doing something normal helps all the pent-up emotions come loose. The faint taste of cum is still in my mouth as I start to finally ask myself, “What the hell has happened to you?”
I wait there and look toward the gate, a nervous smile growing on my face as I see my ride entering the pool area.
“Hey, Olivia, what a great surprise! Actually, I have some good news I want to brag about!”
Ted seems oddly happy, delighted, actually, to see me on a weekend. I apologize as I get out of the pool, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know who else to call.”
“It’s fine,” he replies, “Can I take you home? Don’t have you have any stuff?”
He’s commenting on the fact that he’s picking me up wearing just a bikini. My phone’s in the pocket of my shorts and I collect them from a chair. I have no shirt, no purse, no wallet.
“It’s, um, complicated,” I tell him, “This is all I have.” Someone left a towel on the rail and I dry off my legs and pull up the shorts.
He just shrugs. Ted was never one to pry. “Glad I can help,” is all he says.
I get into his car and I just break down. “Ted! I feel so out of control! It’s Shelly, my girlfriend! She’s got me doing things and I… I just don’t think I want to anymore!”
It felt good to unload but Ted’s driving and is as shocked as I would expect. “Hold on… it’ll be okay… what things… um… hey, are you okay?”
I feel okay. I’m not shaking, I just don’t have anything figured out. I sigh. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so dramatic. I just need some time, okay?”
The car is silent as he gives me a moment. “How about dinner tonight? Would that help?” Ted suggests.
“I think I’d like to talk to someone,” I tell him, “You know, you’re my only friend.”
That makes him smile. Ted tells me, “You mean more to me than you know.”
My phone buzzes with a message from Shelly but I ignore it.
“Oh, here,” Ted begins as he reaches to his back seat, “these are for you.”
Flowers.
Flowers. The man got flowers for me. Shelly’s message be damned. Nobody ever got me flowers.
“For me?” I can’t believe it.
He’s looking ahead as he makes a turn. “You sounded troubled and… well, it’s not like you to ever ask for anything. I guessed you were having a bad day or something.”
If I had any doubts that Ted was the best friend I could ever had, I was mistaken.
Flowers.
“They’re… you’re… oh, Ted…”
“Do you want to talk about it, about what’s up?”
“I can’t. I mean, not now. I need a little time. Dinner?” I imagine myself completely falling apart or showing my angry side or… well, I don’t know. I should compose myself a little.
My smile probably looks a little awkward but it’s sincere when he parks at my building. “Is seven okay?” he asks and I nod. “Oh, and not that you don’t look fantastic but maybe something a little nicer?”
He’s chuckling a bit and I look down. “God, I forgot what I had on!”
Still laughing, “You look great, Olivia, you always do. I love your style.”
Shelly and the guys I’ve been with just saw my clothes as some kind of costume, make-believe outfits that they wanted me to wear because my sole purpose was sex. Ted, though, Ted was different. He admired my clothes in a way that acknowledged I liked to look a certain way but that it was alright, that I could be me and still be a real person (just one who likes being noticed). I smile again and tell him, “I’m not kidding, I forgot how I was dressed. I just…” I sigh, “I think I’ve got too much on my mind. Maybe a glass of wine and a bath will take the place of a complete breakdown.”
“You sure you don’t want me to come in and talk? I really do need to talk to you about something, too.”
“You’re the best but, no. I really need a little time right now.”
Once inside, I go right to the bath. My phone buzzes a reminder and I see Shelly’s message asking, “What the hell is taking so long?” I had actually forgotten about her and that makes me smile.
“All done,” I reply, “I got a ride home. Mission accomplished.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her complete lack of concern for me is notable.
So predictable.
“I ran into a friend. Thought I’d save you the trouble.”
“What friend?”
I answer with Ted’s name before I think about it but once I do, I feel like I don’t care. Let her get angry. I’m through.
Shelly’s reply is in all-caps. Wow, I didn’t expect her to be this angry!
“I TOLD YOU TEC WAS OFF LIMOTS!”
Angry enough for two typos… that’s pretty angry. Yeah-yeah-yeah, you did. Maybe I need to stop caring about your stupid rules!
She goes on to tell me that, as punishment, Paul’s off-limits to me. In fact, she set up a date with Enrique and she’s going to tell him how awful I’ve been. “I’ll let them both know that I’ll be quite happy if they want to go back to making your life miserable!” she writes. She’s back to asserting control and I’m just not in the mood.
“Sometimes you act like you’re someone special, Jimmy,” she goes on to say.
It’s a long message, a multi-screen rant that I can only imagine was keyed with fingers trembling with rage.
It goes on, “You know everyone thinks you’re a joke, a loser guy playing dress up. Without me finding suckers for you, you’d be alone in that sad apartment every night!” It goes on to say I dress like a slut, can’t dance, and look like a ridiculous boy playing in makeup.
I walk into the kitchen and get the glass of wine I promised myself. Deep breaths. There, on the counter, are the flowers from Ted.
He got me flowers. Just looking at them is calming.
Warm water, bubbles, and now a few sips of wine help even more. I feel my head clearing.
Shelly and I, we’re done. That’s it, I decide.
She sure as hell isn’t my girlfriend. At best, she’s been my pimp and now that she’s taken that away (again), she’s nothing to me.
I sigh softly. These flowers are gorgeous.
Shelly’s utter control of me has been like a weight on my shoulders or maybe more like a yoke around my neck that she used to pull me this way and that. This latest punishment just feels like it’s too much, the last straw.
Once again, she’s pressed pause on my sex life but…
Do I really want to pick up again? Even if Shelly were to say my punishment is over in a few weeks (or months, more likely) would I want that? The neighbors never cared what Shelly thought; they’ll probably call me to come over tonight or tomorrow. But do I want that?
Someone gave me flowers! I could have a more normal life. I can’t help but look back at what I’ve done, who I was. Mmm… past tense?
Who I was…
Disclosure
I curl my hair for dinner. Some time with my only friend, my best friend, that’s what I need.
I take a moment and look in the bathroom mirror as I’m getting ready. Except when I’m around Shelly, I don’t feel like a “loser guy”. At work and even with strangers, I feel, well, I feel pretty. I feel like Olivia and except when I’m with the neighbors or with guys Shelly hooks me up with, I really do like myself; I like who I’ve become.
Shelly, I suppose, still sees me as Jimmy and I guess I can’t blame her for that since she saw me as I changed.
Is this lipstick too bright?
Then again, Ted saw me as I changed and he seems to like me.
I walk into the living room to get my purse since my burgundy lipstick is in it. Outside my door I hear footsteps. I wonder if that could be Enrique, on his way to pick up Shelly for their date. I imagine her, getting dressed up like she did that night we first met, hoping to lure Enrique in before she reverts to sweatpants and making him come over to her place to…
Ha! I chuckle aloud. No, no, no, not Enrique. Definitely not.
For starters, he’s more than handsome enough to be with her. And while Shelly may have been good at taking advantage of me, Enrique is an experience manipulator. Oh my god – is he going to get her to…?!!! Whatever comes of it, those two are headed to trouble together. Ha!
This simple black dress should be fine for tonight. It’s nice enough for a friend’s dinner, though not the sort of thing I’d wear on a real date.
Sigh… a real date. I wonder if that’s something I’ll ever know? The idea of putting on something sexy for a guy I really like, hoping he’ll accept my suggesting for a nightcap at my place where I’ll end up on my knees, making love to a man who likes me as a person and not just for sex?
In my lingerie drawer is a black garter. It’s a set, along with panties and a bra. I got it to wear for the neighbors and I pick it up to admire it.
The French label reminds me it was a bit of a splurge. It’s a little sad that I spent so much money because I wanted to impress those two. I exhale. God, I had really lost my mind for a while there. Part of me wants to thank Shelly for cutting me off. Even though it’s only been a few hours, I’m already feeling better. I’m letting myself feel like a real person, like a woman and not…
… a slut. Wow, that was a crazy chapter. I’m glad it’s over.
Yes, it’s over.
I’ll wear my new garter set for dinner. Olivia can be the kind of girl who would have a fancy French garter belt on under her simple dress. Yeah, that’s who I am.
“I’ll meet you there,” I tell Ted by message, “Where are we going?”
I can’t know whose footsteps I heard earlier and if there’s any reason Shelly’s coming over to Enrique’s I need to avoid what would be colossal scene if she ran into me going out on a date now. It doesn’t matter how I feel, that girl might explode.
I sneak out like I used to when I first started dressing up. It feels nostalgic and makes me giggle a bit as I walk quickly down the hall in my pumps.
Ted’s standing outside the restaurant when I arrive. “Sorry, am I late?” I say as I walk to him.
He’s casual, as always. That man’s never anxious, worried, or bothered. “Nope,” he simply says, “I came early.”
I think I’m early so I’m caught off guard that he’s even earlier. Shelly once left me in a dress outside of her apartment and didn’t even apologize. “You know,” he says, “Didn’t want to think of a pretty girl standing by herself, waiting.”
“You’re too nice.” I take his hand and we walk toward the door. Fuck Shelly for leaving me waiting, what a horrible person.
It’s a nice place. I could have worn a nicer dress. “I’ve never been here, Ted. I feel a little underdressed.”
“Nonsense. You look fantastic as always.”
Then we sit, we get a drink, we order, we chat a little between visits by the waiter but the moment it’s clear we’re alone for a while, he asks what’s going on.
“Actually, Ted, I do need to tell someone and you’re the only person I can really talk to.”
“I’m here for you Olivia.”
Suddenly it’s like I was in some kind of fast-moving car that eases to a graceful halt. Piloted by Shelly and my neighbors, the car had sped me along. The steering wheel and the brakes were nonexistent from my vantage point; there was no stopping or slowing, I had no control. Along the way were the experiences, the clothes, my body, and that cup or two of cum.
But now it not moving. No, more than that, it’s… vanished. Sitting at that nice restaurant, I’m the girl that ride produced but I feel I’m the best possible version of her. I’ve done so much, learned so much, know so much. Most importantly, I know what I want. I finally know.
“Hey, you thinking?”
It’s Ted’s voice and I soften as I look across the table. My one and only friend. Olivia is finally ready to really, truly, have a friend.
His smile has some kind of near-magical effect on me, like it just takes life’s worries down a notch. “I haven’t been completely honest about my girlfriend.”
And here I go, about to finally tell someone the absolute truth.
“See…” I’ve decided and I know I need to talk to someone but it’s not easy. Ted reaches across the table and takes my hand. Now I notice his eyes are magical, too.
“It, um… it wasn’t her who had a fondness for oral sex. It was, I mean it is… it’s me.”
He nods and I realize he has the wrong impression.
“I don’t mean with her… not with girls.” Just say it! I’m not shaking or anything but I… oh, I’m being a coward. No, that’s not Olivia.
“I like men. I, well, I like having sex with men. Oral sex. I like it. I like it a lot.”
Ted just stares at me.
“Are you… does that bother you?” I ask, “Grossed out or shocked or something?” Rapid-fire, I add, “It’s okay if you are. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have…”
He seems flustered. Ted’s never flustered. He manages to say he’s not bothered.
“It all started with,” I hush my voice even lower, “cum. I had some of my own and then from some other guy and then, well, I wanted to have it more, you know, directly so she took me to some guy she’d been seeing and after she did it, kissed me and put it into my mouth.”
Ted seems a little surprised and smiles. “Seems there’s a lot of guys getting lucky. An old boss of mine had an experience like that,” he tells me, “Wild stuff.”
If I wasn’t in the middle of bearing my soul, I’d say something like, “From the look in your eyes, you’re a little envious,” but I’m trying to get help here and letting Ted talk about his interests will have to wait.
“Well,” I begin, ready to just lay it all out there, “you might imagine that led to me doing the whole thing myself and that’s when my feelings started to change.”
“How so?”
“I guess I discovered something, my life’s passion or something, because suddenly I found that the greatest joy I had was making love with my mouth.”
Ted’s jaw drops a little.
“She’s been setting me up with other guys who have girlfriends, at least she thought they did. Then she got mad at me and tricked me into being with my neighbors and I’ve been with them… a lot.” I add, “They’re not nice guys.
“Wow, Olivia. You’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, I think I lost control. Nine, I think, guys since this started. It all just got away from me and built up over time but I was in a pretty dark place.”
“Is that why you called me?”
“I didn’t realize it but I think I needed to be rescued,” I tell him. “I just needed to get away from her.” I add, “When she found out I called you to pick me up, she went nuts. I guess she counted on me being reliant on her but that’s over.”
Now Ted cocks his head to one side. “So, she brought you over to some guy who she’d been seeing,” he says, “That’s how it started?”
I nod. “She had his cum in a glass before then. That was really the beginning.”
“And you were always just at his place?”
“Uh-huh.” I rest my chin in my hand, feeling a little spent, but good for finally telling someone the truth.
“And these guys, the ones in relationships, did you meet one at a house party?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Olivia,” he begins. He’s still holding my hand but seems very serious, “Your girlfriend, is her name Shelly Hardy?”
Karma
I choke a little. I’m taking too long to answer but Ted just waits patiently.
Nothing frazzles that man.
“How… how did you know?”
Ted exhales. “Olivia, I’m afraid you’ve been put in the middle of something awful. I dated her, years ago. She’s not well.”
“Tell me about it!” I quip, then genuinely ask, “I mean, tell me about it.”
“It didn’t last long and, well, since we’re being honest, I should confess that I, too, have my sexual interests.”
It seems I should let him share and, sure, I’m curious. “I’m listening,” I tell him.
“I ended it with Shelly because she had no interest in oral sex which, well, is the only way I like it.” He then adds, “My god, it was good to end it because she’s really not okay in the head. She swore revenge on me and then I found out she was blowing my boss thinking that was a way to get back at me!”
Now I’m trying to understand it all. “The house party. You know a guy named Jerry?” I ask.
Ted nods. “My old roomie. Nice guy.” He quickly adds, “He and Courtney broke up recently. Funny, you know, he told me about a girl who showed him what he was missing, that passion’s not just an empty word.”
Ted looks at me quizzically.
It’s a long silence that feels more cute than awkward.
“Guilty?” I say with a smile.
Ted joins me with a smile and chuckles a bit; he’s not mad.
Thinking for second, I ask, “Your ex-boss. Don?”
Slowly and knowingly he replies, “Uh-huh.”
Nothing to do but smile. Ted’s not upset. I think he understands.
I need to change the subject. “Hey, what did you have to tell me?”
Ted takes a moment to reorient. “Oh, right! Um… Olivia, I think your news changes what I had to say.”
“What? Don’t be like that. Tell me, Ted!”
There’s that smile of his again. “Oh, not like that. See I’ve been wanting to tell you that I applied for a job at corporate and I got it.”
“What? That’s great! Why didn’t you just tell me at work?”
“Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to take it. I didn’t want to leave you.”
“Don’t be a jerk,” I quip, “you should totally take it!”
He settles a moment and says, “I asked if they’d take you, too and they have a position waiting for you. It’s a promotion.”
“Me?!!!” I light up. First flowers and now a promotion? I want to pinch myself.
Ted reaches for my other hand and goes on, “I want you to go. I want us to go together. Olivia, I think I’m in love with you.”
I last about a minute before the tears start.
When it’s obvious that I’m now an emotional mess, Ted pays the check. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car,” he says. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “I shouldn’t throw all this at you after you’ve had a rough day. I didn’t know…”
I get up, barely able to stand. “Ted, I…” No, I can’t speak.
In the car park, I stop him and turn toward him. Finally, I blurt, “Ted, I love you, too.”
We share our first kiss there.
Frazzled (In a Good Way)
I start to babble, “Ted, I know you just told me and we’re just friends or maybe we were, I mean, I know we were, I mean we still are friends but now you said and I, well love and you and…”
He patiently holds me. Ted says, “You have no idea how long I’ve thought of kissing you.”
I fall into him. “Want to come by for a nightcap?” I ask.
“How about my place?” he asks, “I can order a pizza and the company gave a bottle of champagne to celebrate my move.”
“God, yes!” I’m completely unable to hide my enthusiasm. I grab a gym bag from my car, “In case I need something,” I say.
“So Don was your old boss?” I ask as we drive.
He chuckles.
“Sorry,” I say, “we don’t have to talk about this.”
“It’s fine,” Ted answers, “I think I’m figuring this out but it’s best to know. Shelly hooked up with him right after we broke up. He called and asked if it was okay and I just said to be careful. That’s why he never went out in public with her. They’d only have oral sex and only at his place.”
“Uh… yeah, that’s where I was and not just once,” I confessed.
“It’s alright, Olivia, everyone has a first and Shelly…” he shook his head, “Shelly.”
He goes on and says, “And you’re the mystery girl who showed Jerry what love was?”
“I guess? I mean, the girl part… yikes.”
“Oh, he’ll be cool.” He pauses to reflect and tells me, “When were we sharing that house, one night we had this long talk about sex. Maybe it was mostly me but we both agree that we’d do anything for great sex. Then we’re like, ‘what if she’s ugly’ or ‘what if she’s married?’ Eventually, Jerry says, ‘what if it turns out to be a guy?’ and we both end up saying that’s cool.
See, we were thinking this hypothetical of a dark room or something, not a beautiful woman like you!”
I can’t help but think that I’m going to see Jerry again. As Ted’s girlfriend? Don’t get ahead of yourself, Olivia.
I get to hear a few of his Shelly stories, not many, just enough to tell me how crazy she was. I also learn that my Ted (he’s my Ted now) does indeed love to see his woman in sexy clothes and he’s the one who bought the halter for Shelly.
“Every day, Olivia, I drove to work wondering what you’d have on. Damn, that skin-tight tan sweater and leather skirt outfit… I can still picture it!”
So, while he’s in the kitchen opening the champagne, I dawdle just a bit in his living room. Once alone, off goes the dress.
Ted returns, bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. He just stops in his tracks and stares.
“What is it?” I say coyly, sitting in a chair with my bra and garter set on, “Something got your attention?”
It’s a first, the very first time Mister Composure seems to lose himself. He’s actually stammering and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.
“Olivia… you’re just… oh god…”
“Are you going to come kiss me or should I come to you?”
He sets the bottle down and nearly breaks the glasses in a rush to free his other hand. I giggle at my rising executive’s lack of motor control. As he gets close, I open my arms and he falls right in, then picks me up and moves me to his couch as I giggle and kiss his neck.
“I think I might know one more way to get you frazzled,” I tease.
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