Arouse: A Spiral of Bliss Novel (Book One)

“What’re you going to do?” she asks me while we wait for Dean to finish getting ready. “Pop popcorn and watch movies? Drink wine? Can I stay with you instead?”

 

I kind of wish she would—even though I wouldn’t tell her everything that’s been going on, I’d like her no-nonsense company.

 

Dean emerges from the bedroom, still knotting his tie. He looks incredible, masculine and handsome with his hair combed away from his forehead and his navy suit pressed to perfection.

 

“Wow,” Kelsey remarks in admiration, glancing from him to me. “Maybe he should stay just so you can have the fun of taking that suit off him.”

 

Dean and I both laugh, but the sound is forced and rusty. Kelsey gets it immediately because she frowns and looks at both of us again. I suspect my husband will be subjected to the third degree en route to the banquet.

 

I give him the obligatory kiss, hug Kelsey and tell her to behave. They head off. I’m somewhat relieved to be alone because at least now I don’t have to pretend.

 

I take Kelsey’s advice and eat some popcorn while watching an action movie, then part of a romantic comedy. But I’m soon bored, so I turn off the TV and page through a magazine. Then I wander over to check my email at my laptop by the window.

 

After surfing a few book-related websites, I’m bored again and restless and wishing Dean were here and everything was like it was before the idea of a baby made it all so messy.

 

I type a few words into a search engine. A massive list of results appears—live porn, amateur videos, free porn, fetish movies, hardcore videos, bondage, girls with glasses… girls with glasses?

 

Out of curiosity, I click that link. Sure enough, a screen of clips appears of half-naked girls with glasses. At least they’re honest about their advertising.

 

They’re in various stages of apparent arousal and intercourse. I don’t know whether to be intrigued or not. I’ve seen porn videos, of course, but not such a proliferation or such a niche market.

 

I click on a clip. There’s a guy between the spread legs of a girl wearing glasses. He’s rubbing his erection, teasing the head around the folds of her sex, slipping partway into her opening before pulling back again.

 

I’ve always liked it when Dean does that to me.

 

I switch to another clip. An older man is actively pumping into another girl, but his belly is fat and jiggling, which grosses me out. A third clip has a woman looking astonishingly uninterested while giving a blow job. I close the window. I find another clip of a decent-looking man and a girl wearing horn-rimmed glasses.

 

She’s on her hands and knees, and he’s gripping her ass as he thrusts into her from behind. The camera angle isn’t ridiculously close, but it’s close enough that I can see his cock moving in and out of her. It’s smooth and slick.

 

His fingers dig into her flesh. He’s pumping hard enough that her whole body is rocking with the motion, her large breasts swaying beneath her, her mouth open on a moan.

 

I squeeze my thighs together a little. I’m wearing yoga pants, and they’re getting warm. Not to mention that I’m frustrated over not having had sex with Dean in a while.

 

The man in the video shifts his position, planting his foot on the bed to enhance the depth of his thrusts.

 

Dean does that too. It works.

 

My breathing increases. The girl is moaning in a long, steady stream. She’s also sweating. Her hair is long, longer than mine, and sticking to her back in damp strands. The man slaps her bottom a few times, causing her to shriek and her skin to redden. She has a great ass, round and smooth and tight.

 

I feel perverted, but I’m getting achy in a good way. A way that I can’t deny. I make sure the curtains are drawn before I pull my pants off and kick them beneath the desk. I’m too embarrassed to actually touch myself while staring at a hardcore video clip, but I don’t stop watching.

 

The sounds of the man’s hips slapping against the woman emerge from the speaker. She grabs the headboard and starts to push against him. It’s graphic and raw. They’re moaning and panting. Then he lets out a grunt and pulls his cock from her, rubbing the shaft between her ass cheeks as he spurts over her back.

 

I love it when Dean does that to me.

 

My heart is pulsing fast. I press my thighs together again and feel the burgeoning throb. I shut the laptop and move to the sofa, pulling my underpants down my legs and tossing them aside.

 

I’m wearing a T-shirt, but I’m in a hurry now and I reach beneath it to shove my bra up so I can play with my breasts. I rub them hard, tweak the nipples, and feel sensation uncoiling through my belly. I spread my legs and thrust a hand between them, unsurprised but still embarrassed by how wet I am.

 

At least my perversion is a secret one.

 

I close my eyes and imagine Dean and I in the same position—him thrusting into me from behind while I grip the headboard and rock back against him.

 

It takes almost no time at all. I know exactly how to touch myself and where. And with images of Dean clutching my hips, pumping in and out of me before he comes all over my bottom…

 

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