“I’m not going to last like this, I’m too hot,” he said.
No problem. I bent down and took him in my mouth, taking leisurely trips up and down his length, and stopping to pay attention to the slit. I had been studying up on this, and judging by Blane’s moans, I was doing better than I’d done in women’s studies. I tickled his balls with my sticky fingers and used my other hand to pump him while I sucked hard.
“Christ, I’m going to come,” Blane roared.
I didn’t back off but stayed the course, my inner thighs totally drenched by the time he exploded into my mouth.
Collapsed in my bed in a sticky heap, I shut my eyes and dreaded getting up, but we did. I had to be ready at three, and Blane needed to watch tape.
With promises of finishing later, we parted ways.
Catie
“Heya, girl.”
Chantae pinched my cheek and headed straight for the kitchenette, wearing a ruby-red scarf over her wild curls. I had coffee ready to go, and she helped herself to a huge mug.
“Mich is sick,” Tish said as she came through the front door, wearing stiletto boots paired with skinny jeans.
Brittany was right behind her, looking like an average coed today in leggings and a sweatshirt with little makeup and cold-pinked cheeks. Like me.
“Hope she feels better,” I said.
While the others grabbed a coffee, I surreptitiously sniffed around my apartment, wanting to be sure it didn’t smell like Blane and I had just got it on. Which we had—exchanging orgasms with our fingers and mouths, and eating cheesecake off each other. A tingle ran through me at the thought of what might come later.
“Hey,” Sarina said, the last through the door.
“What’s up?”
“I’m good. My son’s sick, so I had to scramble to make sure his sitter was all prepped.”
I ran my hand down her back. “You have to go?”
Her situation made me firm in my resolve to see this project through. If Sarina worked in a bank or a school, she would have sick days. As it was, she didn’t get time off in the movie-making biz she called her career.
She shook her head. “I’m going to shoot a few extra clips for Frank tonight when I leave here, and then I may take tomorrow off.” She ran her red-tipped nails through her straight hair, tucking it behind an ear as she let out a long sigh. Pulling me into a hug, she said, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, help us justify our choice to the rest of the world.”
“Hey, don’t get all sappy on me.” I squeezed her tight.
She laughed and we parted, both of us grabbing coffee and joining the other girls.
We sat around for an hour discussing where the women saw themselves going in the long term.
“I’m just paying my way through school, but part of me wants to be discovered. I kind of like it,” Brittany quietly admitted. “I feel like I’m in charge of my destiny, self-sufficient.”
“What’s your degree in? Journalism?” I lifted my mug of coffee to my lips.
She nodded. “Yep. In fact, I think I’ll look for an internship at Playboy or Esquire, somewhere like that.”
I felt a weird sense of pride at her courage to make her own choices, choose her own destiny.
“Me, I’m gonna bank as much money as I can and open a little boutique,” Chantae said. “Scarves like this and hair ornaments. Probably African jewelry and maybe some art.”
“Where? Here?” Sarina asked, a worried look on her face.
“I’m not leaving you, babe.” Chantae winked at her.
“You’re my family,” Sarina admitted. “All of you. This little gang. If you go, what will I do?”
There was something else to consider when writing all this up. The network these women had formed gave them bonds stronger than most I had ever experienced. They not only were a support system of friends, but were also sisters, caregivers, and protectors.
“Mich and I are going to try to start our own web TV thing,” Tish said. “We’re going to do something with gay men, I think.”
“Get out!” I blushed at the idea, but since I’d been so affected by porn, maybe gay men were too.
Hmmm? I would google that.
We laughed for the last half hour, the girls teasing me about Blane.
“Our girl’s got her a good one,” they joked.
At four thirty, they all filed out to do what they needed, and I texted Blane.
CATIE: You still watching tape? I’m going to make dinner.
I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like that’s what couples did, touched base on the minutia of their day.
A tendril of anxiety curled around my heart while I waited to hear back from him. When I got no response, which wasn’t like Blane, I told myself he was busy with the team, and tried not to make it into something bigger than it was.