by Sarina Bowen
I turn away and fish my jacket off the floor. From a pocket, I retrieve one of the condoms I always carry. Because I’m a filthy opportunist. I hold it up between two fingers to show Chastity.
Her chin bobs in a quick nod.
I almost add, you sure? Except I know in my gut that she is. The reason my body is on fire right now is because my friend mauled me almost as aggressively as I mauled her. Chastity’s cheeks are pink and her glorious chest rises and falls with each rapid breath.
I want what everyone else has, she’d said. Well, I’m the guy who can deliver that. Thoughtless sex and fun times are pretty much all I have to offer the world.
So I tear open the packet and roll the condom down my aching cock. This is madness. I’m ninety-eight percent sure that Chastity has never had sex before.
What am I even doing?
“Dylan?” she breathes. Maybe she’s finally come to her senses. Except she’s rolling onto her back, and spreading her legs on the sheets. I can’t look away. And now there’s literally nothing between us except a condom and the thinnest filament of my restraint.
“Yeah?” I croak.
“Don’t be careful with me.”
“You don’t have anything to prove, Chass.” It gets so quiet that I can hear my heart thumping in my chest.
I drop a hand to her bare leg, running my fingertips up to her hip. I pass my hand over the tidy triangle of hair between her legs, and my pulse kicks up a notch. Has anyone ever touched her like that?
She moans and tosses her head when I stroke her. I could almost come just from this—the view of her lush body arching into my hand and the sound of her hunger.
I lean down and trail my lips across one pale breast. Then I kiss my way across the smooth skin of her tummy, toward the honeyed center of her. At the first touch of my tongue against her clit, she lets out a hot gasp. So I drop my mouth onto her pussy and take a greedy taste.
All her muscles go rigid, and she tugs at my hair, straining against me. But a moment later she’s pushing my face away. “Not like that,” she pants.
“No?” I lift my head, startled. “You don’t want my mouth? What do you want?”
“You,” she says firmly. “I need you.”
“You need me to do what?” I ask, because I cannot get this wrong. My cock is screaming, and my blood is pounding, and I don’t trust myself at all.
I swing myself into position above her, so that I can look down into her flushed face and bright eyes.
This also has the effect of pinning her to the bed with my cock. Her hips strain beneath me, lifting toward my body, as if willing me inside.
“Just…” She takes a breath, and the next two words come out so quietly that I can barely hear them. “Use me.”
Gulp.
I can’t deny that my body flashes hot when she says those words. Erotic imagery assaults my overstimulated brain. I want Chastity at the edge of the bed—her hips lifted to meet me. I want her seated on my cock, while I’m encouraging her to ride me. I want her backwards and forwards and every which way.
I want. I want. I want. All of it.
But first I lean down and take her mouth again. She opens for me immediately, like an offering. I could kiss all day like this. Her tongue is sweet and willing.
Her arms wrap around my neck, and her soft tits rub against my bare chest. It’s glorious. I can’t resist slipping a hand between her legs to stroke her pussy. She gasps against my mouth and spreads her legs for me.
“Good girl,” I groan, as her slickness coats my fingers.
I’m hard as a fencepost. I should probably be intimidated by what we’re about to do. But I want it too much to care.
Use me, she’d said. Christ. I slide my arm beneath her silky leg, lifting her knee, making space for myself in the cradle of her body. I know I need to go slow. But instinct makes me tuck my cock against her pussy, sliding my shaft against her clit.
“Oh!” she moans. “Yes.”
We fall into a deep kiss, grinding and desperate. I thrust against her, in imitation of fucking her. And she pushes back against me, greedy and slick.
“Please,” she begs. “Now.”
Right. No big deal. It’s just my incredibly sexy, virginal best friend, naked beneath me and begging me to fuck her. So I grip my cock and line myself up. And I slide partway into her tight, wet pussy.
“Oh!” Her arms grip me, and she tenses suddenly.
“Hey,” I whisper, stroking her hair with a trembling hand. “Melt for me.”
Her blue eyes blink once. Then she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. I feel her sink back onto the mattress.
“Good girl,” I rasp as I slide right inside, where everything is tight and wonderful.
She lets out a low moan that nearly undoes me. I bite my lip, holding very still. Farm chores. That’s what I need to think about right now. Shoveling manure. Milking cows with frozen fingers in February…
“Dyl,” she breathes. “Don’t stop.”
Easy for you to say. I lean down and kiss her neck. “You got me so fucking worked up, Chass. I almost can’t stand it.” I push my face into the pillow for a second, breathing deeply until the blinding need to come ebbs a little.
Chastity’s hand finds mine. I weave our fingers together and take another calming breath. I’m still trembling as I pull my hips back and then slide in again.
“Yes,” she breathes, tightening against me.
Slowly, I pick up the pace. It’s sweet agony. With every thrust, she makes a breathy sound of pleasure. And I’m feeding off it. I break out in a sweat, trying to hold myself back.
It has to be good for her. I know Chastity really well, but I don’t know this side of her. My mind is blown by the way she’s clutching me and by all the sounds she’s making, like she can’t get enough. And the way she’s staring into my eyes, like she can see all the way to my horny soul.
It’s overwhelming. There’s so much tension in my body right now. The good kind. But I won’t stop until I give her something to cheer about.
Her hip fits so nicely in my hand. I slide into another thrust, and she moans immediately. I pick up the pace again, running when I ought to walk.
I’ve had a lot of sex, in every conceivable position. But I have never been this turned on before. It’s not just the novelty, either. It’s everything. Chastity’s hands gripping the sheets. The sound of her ragged, hungry breaths.
It’s the complete submission of her posture right now—splayed out and taking my cock like it’s her only goal in life.
And giving it to her is mine. If I’m not careful, sensory overload is going to ruin me.
I slide a hand under my body, until I can fork my fingers over the place where we’re joined. I pass my thumb over her clit, and she shivers.
“Yeah,” I say. “Come on now. Get there for me. I need you to.” I’ve always been a motormouth during sex.
And Chastity doesn’t seem to mind. As I whisper little words of encouragement, she begins to strain back against me, her rhythm uneven and desperate. She shivers again.
“Good girl,” I babble. I close my eyes and give it to her again and again.
But I’m running out of time. Desperate, I take one of her hands and stretch it over her head, until I find the bedrail. And then I do the same to the other one, until she’s gripping it with both hands, wide-eyed and watchful.
“You like that?” I ask, and she’s instantly trembling.
“Then hold on tight.” I jerk my hips forward.
Right away she gasps. And when I thrust a second time, her whole body shudders around my cock. She drops her head back onto the pillow and sobs with pleasure.
Her climax wrecks me. It’s all I can do to give one last slow-motion thrust as pleasure roars through me. And then I pour my whole self out with a soul-deep groan.
For several long seconds after that, all I can do is try to remember how to breathe. Chastity is collapsed on the sheet, her chest rising and falling a
t the same vicious pace as mine.
The room looks like a storm blew through. There are clothes thrown everywhere, beer bottles on the floor. And then there’s us—sweaty and spent.
As gently as possible, I disengage. I place a couple of slow kisses on Chastity’s neck and then sink down onto the bed, my limbs shaking.
“You okay?” I croak. My voice sounds too loud in all this silence.
“Totally,” she pants. Like it’s a given.
I’m not entirely okay, myself. I lift the sheet and pull it over us on the narrow bed. I’ve lain in bed with naked women many times before. But this time, as my hand finds the bare curve of her hip, the moment feels shockingly intimate.
But we don’t talk. I’m all mixed up inside. Somehow, I was just fine with the pounding I gave her a few minutes ago, but pulling her close to my bare chest gives me goosebumps.
I make myself comfortable on her pillow, her body tilted toward mine. We lie there together a while, coming off the sexual high. “Are you sleepy?” I ask eventually.
“Not even a little,” she says.
“Me neither.” I kiss her cheek. “But I really need to get rid of this condom. And probably take a quick shower so I can eventually take you out for coffee and bagels.”
She gives me a serious glance before looking away. “Better test to see if the water is hot yet.”
“Good idea,” I reply, my voice still gravelly and weird. Everything is weird. Did we really just do that?
I wait another beat. Gingerly, I get out of the bed, running a hand through Chastity’s hair before I go. I hate leaving the bed, but I’m also glad that I have to.
Regret is already tickling the back of my neck as I walk naked into the bathroom. Disposing of the condom, I squint at myself in the shocking light. I see a red-faced guy who doesn’t know what hit him. I guzzle some water and then quickly push back the shower curtain and turn on the water so I can clean myself up.
From sex. With Chastity.
Jesus H. I loved every second of it. No—I craved it. But already I feel guilty. As if I took a delicate friendship and threw it as carelessly to the floor as I did our clothes.
It doesn’t help that there was a smear of pink on the condom. Just a trace, but still a reminder of Chastity’s inexperience.
Luckily, the water heats quickly. I ease my body under the spray and let out a giant sigh. As the water beats down on my head, I begin to feel more like myself.
It was just epic sex with a friend, I tell myself. Amazing. Surprising. But not life-altering.
It’s funny how recently I’d been worried about a kiss messing everything up. Chastity hadn’t liked it that I’d overreacted. She doesn’t like to be babied.
Good thing, because I wasn’t babying her in the bed just now. I gave her just what she asked for. A quick lesson in clawing, desperate sex.
It’s going to be fine, I reassure myself. We’re adults. We can handle this.
Just as I’m finishing up my shower, the bathroom door opens.
“Hey, can I borrow a towel?” I ask as I turn off the taps. I yank the shower curtain open, looking toward the doorway for Chastity.
But it’s not Chastity who’s standing there.
Twenty
Dylan
“Kaitlyn!” I yelp. “You weren't supposed to be home.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve just made it worse.
“Right,” Kaitlyn spits, fire in her eyes. “If you'd known I was here, you would have fucked Chastity at your place, instead. My bed was too small, huh? But hers is just right?”
“Now hang on,” I look around for a bath towel. There's only a tiny hand towel on the bar.
I reach for it but Kaitlyn is faster. She grabs it and holds it to her chest. “I want to hear this.”
Fuck. “We… I…” My brain is empty, from shock, confusion, and a lack of caffeine. “There’s nothing to say. It’s none of your business that we…” The sentence dies, because I'm not about to discuss it. Not that I’d even know what to say. I haven’t processed it myself. Things with Chastity are…
Speak of the devil. I hear Chastity’s bedroom door open, and then her shocked face appears in the bathroom doorway. She tosses me a towel, which I snatch out of the air.
“Let me guess.” Kaitlyn folds her arms in front of her pert little chest. Kaitlyn reminds me of an ice queen sometimes. So pretty, but also cold. And then she opens her mouth again, and it gets worse. “You got drunk, huh? Had a few beers. Got horny. So now Chastity knows what beer goggles are. Did you ever hear that expression?” She turns, directing this question at Chastity. “It means he’ll do anyone when he’s had three or four beers.”
“Hey!” I argue. “That is not what happened here.”
Chastity goes absolutely white and grips the door frame.
Kaitlyn’s not done. “You said she wasn’t your type. You said she isn’t even attractive! So it must have taken a few drinks for you to end up naked in her bed, right?”
“Kaitlyn,” I holler. “Shut your mouth.”
“Why? You didn’t shut yours,” she shrieks. “Fuck, Chastity. Take it. Yes! Sound familiar? You said she was like a little sister to you. Is that how you’d treat your little sister?”
Chastity gasps. Her face is now bright red.
“Stop it,” I growl. “You're putting words in my mouth, and you’re just being cruel.” I dry myself off quickly. I have got to get out of this bathtub.
“Am I? Or are you? I called you out so many times, and you laughed it off. I saw it.”
That slows me down for a second, because unfortunately she has a point.
“Saw what?” Chastity whispers.
“Did you know Dylan lies?” She turns on Chastity. “Either he lied to you just now, or he lied to me for several weeks straight. Which is it, Dylan? Why don’t you clear it up right now? Because not even two weeks have passed since you told me you had no interest in sleeping with her. You said it so many times. You said—”
“Stop!” I holler. “You have something to say to me, you can do it privately.”
“Privately?” she asks, blinking back tears. “Should I bring the condoms and the lube?” She turns to Chastity again. “Congratulations on finally getting a turn on the mechanical bull. How did you manage it? Did you ask him for a little tutoring help, maybe? This algebra is so boring Dylan. Why don’t you teach me how to ride your dick. Did you learn it from a romcom? Did you hope he’d fall in love with you?”
Chastity’s eyes go red. She takes a step backward, as if to distance herself from Kaitlyn’s venom. And she can’t even look at me.
“Just don’t forget,” Kaitlyn spits. “He wanted me first. And I didn’t have to beg to see his dick.”
On that horrible note, she finally leaves, striding past Chastity and heading for her room. Her door slams closed with an earth-shattering crash a moment later.
Chastity looks as shell-shocked as I feel.
“Hey…” I don’t even know what to say next. Thanks for the towel. Shall we go out for breakfast? “I’m really sorry—”
But Chastity’s hand slices through the air with surprising violence. “Do not apologize right now.”
“Why the hell not?”
I’m clearly the dumbest man alive, therefore “I’m sorry” seems like a pretty good opener. I can’t believe I let myself get caught out naked in their bathroom. It’s marginally insensitive to my ex. But it’s a disaster for Chastity, who still has to live with that harpy.
“Because I don’t want to hear your opinion of what actually happened,” she says, her voice shaking. “Just…let’s forget everything.” She turns and hurries into her room.
“Wait!” I finish drying off as quickly as I can. My mind is a twisted knot of anxiety. I need to take her somewhere quiet and try to explain.
But when I leave the bathroom, Chastity meets me at the doorway to her room, her arms full of my clothes, backpack, and shoes. “Here. I think you should go.”
; “Right now?”
“Right now,” she says stiffly.
“No way,” I say, my voice cracking with unhappiness. “We have to talk.”
“But I don’t want to,” she says. And then she steps into her room and shuts the door with a horrible click.
Leaving me standing there in the hall like an idiot. A moment later I hear a sob. And I honestly can’t tell which door it came from.
I lean my forehead against Chastity’s door and try to think. If I could talk to her, I’d say…
Yeah, okay. So I’m not even sure what. You’re not unattractive. And I’m not the slut that Kaitlyn claims I am.
Except that while the first thing is true, the second one is iffy.
“Chastity,” I whisper against the door.
But she doesn’t answer me.
After a few more minutes shivering in this hallway, I have no other choice than to throw on my clothes and go.
My head is pounding as I drive back to Spruce Street. When I get there, I reach for the backseat to grab the backpack that I tossed there.
That’s when I spot the last boxes of caramels on the seat. The ones that we had an appointment to drop off at nine thirty this morning. I pull out my phone. It’s 9:23.
Shit!
Rickie comes out of the house just as I have this horrible realization. “Hey, man. We’re out of groceries. Want to drive me to Hannaford?”
“Get in,” I say, fishing for my keys. “But we’re going to City Market.”
“Ooh, fancy,” Rickie says, opening the passenger door. “What’s the occasion?”
“Saving my ass and selling caramels.”
“Can I try one, yet?” he asks.
“I guess,” I grumble. “Chastity hates me already for a long list of reasons. A few missing caramels won’t even hit the top ten.”
“Chastity does not hate you,” Rickie says, grabbing a box off the backseat as I back down the driveway and then hustle the truck through our little neighborhood.
“You don’t know that.”
“I sense a story here.”
“Yeah, you have no idea.”