Page 1 of Brother's Best Friend Biker Affair

Chapter One

I guess I talk about sex as much as the next girl. I mean, I’m not some kind of goody-two-shoes. Nobody is going to confuse me for a saint or a virgin, you know. Nobody is going to think I’m some kind of a whore or a slut, either. Actually, I hate that anyone would ever call any girl a whore or a slut unless it’s something a couple is doing to be kinky and it turns them on. I know that some people do that sort of thing. The guy calls the girl his whore, his slut, or even dirtier names like his cum slut or his cunt or his whore cunt. There are probably a ton of words and phrases like that designed to be demeaning and humiliating specifically because the kink is being humiliated. I know that stuff happens, and…

Wow.

Holy crap did I just hopped right along down a stupid bunny trail! It’s because I’m humiliated and embarrassed right now, and it has nothing to do with someone calling me something that turns me on. It has everything to do with someone hearing me talk about sex, though. It has everything to do with me blabbing on about something I don’t want anyone other than my best friend to hear. It’s most certainly not something I want an attractive guy to hear. That goes double when we’re talking about the attractive guy I’ve been crushing on for pretty much my whole life!

Yeah, that’s the situation.

I’ll back up.

I’m twenty-two years old and I’ve never had an orgasm. That’s the situation. It’s not something I want to be general knowledge, of course. Anyway, I’ve tried to give myself orgasms with my fingers, vibrators, dildos, and… well, think of a type of masturbation, and I’ve probably tried it. Anyway, my best friend Savannah and I live in a tiny little town called Pinecrest Peak. Well, I live here. Savannah will be back in a few weeks. She got a two-year degree here in town at the county community college satellite campus. I got my degree there, too. Actually, it’s not all in town. We drove to other satellite campuses, too, sometimes as long as an hour to get to our classes.

Yeah. I’m really embarrassed. Look at me with the rabbit trails again!

Anyway, I stayed in town and did my bachelor’s degree online. Savannah went to the city about five hours away and got her degree on campus at the State College. She’ll be home in a few weeks. We talk every day, multiple times a day. We grew up together and went to preschool together. Anyway, I guess I’m kind of promiscuous sometimes. I don’t sleep with every guy I go out with or anything like that but I let a guy get further along than most girls, I think.

It's like I’m on some desperate quest to have an orgasm, and I think it if let a guy get to third base, I’ll suddenly be caught up in orgasm central or something. Then, I realize the guy touching me isn’t getting me close to orgasm and so I moan like some kind of slut-whore to make him think he’s good at it and then proceed to give him a handjob or a blowjob.

Anyway, I’m just done with my fifth date with a boy named Aaron. He thinks he made me cum tonight with his hand. I gave him a blowjob afterward. He’s a nice guy, and I’ve faked orgasms with him on the last three dates now. I know it’s never going to happen but he’s a really nice guy, and I guess I’m kind of thinking maybe if I’m never going to have an orgasm anyway, Aaron might be the kind of guy I could think about as a long-term relationship. I mean, if making me cum was a requirement, I’d never find everyone. But I guess I’m just not going to do that with Aaron because I basically let him know that this is the last date. I guess the frustration of not being able to cum is really getting to me now.

Yeah. That’s my life. What can I say?

Wait… where am I going with all this? I’m so scattered! Oh, I guess by now you know that I’m pretty scattered. I don’t know. I hate to make it seem like it’s all about the sexual frustration. It’s hard to keep that possibility out of my head, though. I mean, I am horny all of the time and I have no way to get rid of the horniness. I don’t know how to convey to you how distracting that feels. I mean, it’s like it never leaves my head, this desire for an orgasm. When you add to that the nagging, horrible feeling that there’s something wrong with me, something defective about me… Well, it gets even harder to stay on track.

Anyway, the point of all this is that I give Aaron an orgasm but there’s one more night of me not getting one. I’m pretty damned frustrated when I get home. I still live in the house where I grew up. My brother and I bought it from our parents when they retired. They gave us a fantastic deal but we didn’t have quite enough buying power. Rather than let them carry a note and have to worry about money for their retirement, my brother’s best friend became the third buyer.

Evan.

The most beautiful, sexy, brilliant, and badass human being to ever walk the face of the Earth.

All right, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration but you have to understand I have been crushing on Evan since I was in elementary school. I mean, I’ve all but worshipped this man all my life. He’s my brother’s age, which puts him seven or eight years older than me. He’s tall, muscular, and so damned handsome I can just stare at him forever.

Anyway, I have the master bedroom (yay) and my brother and his best friend each have one of the other bedrooms. One bedroom is set up as a guest room even though we haven’t had any guests. But when I park the car, nobody else’s car is there. So, I keep bitching to Savannah. I bitch about Aaron not being able to make me cum all the way to the front door. Then, as I step inside, I bitch about how I can’t have an orgasm. I walk through the great room and I bitch about not knowing what an orgasm feels like. I walk down the hall and bitch about how something’s wrong with me.

I drop off my stuff in the bedroom and then walk back down the hallway to grab a drink from the frig.

And Ethan is sitting on the couch. He’s wearing a tee shirt and pajama bottoms.

He heard me bitching.

He heard everything!

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