As I lounged in a sexy pose on a red velvet chaise, Ricky approached—more like sauntered for the camera—while rubbing his hand over his clothing-covered erection. His dick bulged in his skinny black pants, and he made all kinds of weird moans and facial expressions for the camera. I thought he looked like he was in pain, but Frank had assured me that was what ecstasy looked like.
To me, that wasn’t what Blane looked like during our one moment. The one I ran away from because I was ashamed of what we’d done.
Look at me now.
I kept trying to imagine what it would be like to actually be turned on by Ricky with his mouth shaped like an O and his body now angled over me, his breath puffing on my face.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” I said, repeating my lines. “If it isn’t another hard dick. Oh my . . .” This cued my long sigh and husky breathing as I ran my fingers along Ricky’s bicep.
“Baby, you have no idea,” he said, his voice all deep and manly.
I almost giggled because the dude was as gay as they came, or maybe he was bisexual. Whatever. His penis was huge and hard, so he must like women a little.
I was wearing tight leather leggings and a sheer white T-shirt marked PROPERTY OF ATHLETICS DEPARTMENT. It was a ridiculous outfit, made more so by the high-heeled athletic shoes I wore on my feet.
Was this what men wanted? It must be, since I was making big money doing it.
Ricky ripped off his gray hoodie. An effort to make him look like a college student? He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off, his tight black boxer briefs were next, and then his penis was in my face. I oohed and aahed as I touched it, acting like it was full of holy water and I needed to be baptized in the worst way.
He cupped my hand and stroked his length with my hand over his, working his shaft at a quick clip. I could have been microwaving oatmeal or sitting in stats class for all the excitement I felt. In one undisciplined second, my mind went back to my night with him before I yanked it back to the present.
Ricky leaned closer, bringing his penis front and center.
Moans and grunts mixed with choruses of Oh, baby and I’m gonna blow. The slap of skin provided the percussion to this perverted symphony as his hand and mine worked his penis. Leaning closer, he let go of my hand and yanked down the neckline of the V-neck I wore, exposing my breasts so he could run his penis between my cleavage.
I twisted and squirmed as if this was taking me to new heights of pleasure. Before long there was a splatter all over my boobs as Ricky grunted and pumped his hips, and he reached down to rub his ejaculate over my glittery skin.
“And that’s a wrap,” Frank yelled. “We’ll have this puppy out tomorrow, call it something like ‘Rose Bowl Splash.’ The college guys will devour it on game day.”
Ricky handed me a towel and kissed me on the cheek. “Have a great new year, Ari,” he said, and then he hightailed it out of there.
I wiped off and tossed my wig in a bag before I threw on my coat and went straight home for a shower. A long, hot, disinfecting one.
Blane
“Hafton, are you ready? Are you pumped? Sonny B., that’s me, and I’m here tonight at the field house, coming to you live for Hafton’s first conference game of the season. Can the Green take on those big, bad guys from Akron? I think so. Even though you losers didn’t get tickets to the game, put your hands together and up in the air, wave them like you actually do care for our starting lineup!”
Sonny’s voice boomed through the locker room’s speakers as we kept moving while we waited for our names to be called.
I bounced on the ball of my feet, jumping up and down and rolling my shoulders to stay warm and loose. It was the first Friday after winter break, and we were on point. I needed to play and burn out some aggression.
The holidays had been a fucking bust. First, Cate kicked me out of her life. Then my parents visited, ended up banging, and weren’t speaking afterward. Same shit, different day . . .
I’d been going on adrenaline and riding the high of a few easy wins, but wasn’t in the mood for any bullshit when I walked into brunch by myself. My mom had sat there waiting like the cat that ate the canary, a huge grin on her face.
Shit. I’d seen that look before.
“Christ, don’t even say it,” I’d said, sliding into the booth at Denny’s. She loved that restaurant, and although it wasn’t my favorite, I liked to make her happy. “He’s not going to fall for you like one of the guys in your books. You two were done before it started, Mom.”
She laughed like it was some funny late-night TV joke. “Honey, I know that. But that ass is stuck on me, and now I’m making him squirm.”
“Mom, you have got to stop playing these games. I get it. It makes you feel like you have the power, but you don’t. Relationships aren’t about power. They’re about being equals.”
“They’re not kidding,” she said, studying me with a smile. “You’ve gone soft. I like it, Blane. You’re one of the good ones.”
“Mom, stop. Stop messing around with Dad. Move on. Don’t go back to your mobile home and plot how you’re going to torture him more. I love you, and I know deep down, you hurt. Just move on.”