Page 6 of Out of the Blue

I continue playing with her clit, applying more pressure. But I know it’s not enough. After a few minutes of torture, I replace my finger with my thumb, find her opening, and slip inside. She welcomes me with a roll of her hips. “Look in the mirror. I want to watch you as you come for me.”

Obediently, she studies her reflection. Our gazes hold while I glide another digit inside her, fucking her like my cock soon will be doing. Her tits bounce as her breathing becomes more labored. When she closes her eyes, I tug on her ponytail once more to whip her head upward. “Watch.”

A sound—a cross between a mewl and a moan—escapes her lips, which aren’t so red anymore. Her fingers close around the rim of the sink as her entire body tightens. One more internal stroke and she comes. Her cheeks flush, her lips form a perfect “O,” and she lets out a yelp of ecstasy. Then, she collapses forward and hugs the sink while she catches her breath.

Without moving an inch, she instructs, “Condom.”

I’m one step ahead of Hot Chick as I bestow on her the packet I retrieved from my pocket while she was gathering her wits. She puts it between her teeth and rips it open, then spins around to glove me up.

I reach under her arms and bring her back to standing. Naked save for those fuck me heels and false eyelashes, she pushes her hair off her face. Hot Chick really is gorgeous. No way am I looking to have a relationship again, though. Years ago, my last girlfriend lied to me. Instead of applying the money I gave her toward college, she chose to buy out clothing departments—so I decided easy hook-ups were the answer. My mother’s lie cemented the fact that women are good for this one thing. And without any strings. Let my bandmates up the marriage statistics. Fucking her this once will be more than sufficient. Plenty more hot chicks out there to scratch my itch.

Butshe’shere now. So scratch away.

“Interesting tat.”

Any lighter feelings I was harboring toward Hot Chick evaporate with her reminder of my utter stupidity in getting inked in honor of my mother. “From a lifetime ago. Turn around. I want to fuck you now.” Before I can see her confusion—or worse, pity—I spin her away from me.

Grabbing my cock, I position myself at her entrance and shove all the way inside. Her inner walls wring me tight, and I still deep inside her. Pulling back, I shove myself forward hard, and she lets out a throaty moan. And repeat. My awareness of our location disappears, so it’s just me fucking away my anger in deep thrusts.

Our bodies slap together with our rough coupling. Because our positions allow, or even encourage it, I slap her round ass. She squeals at the contact. Yet, not a second later, she urges, “Again.”

This woman is taking what I’m giving her and asking for more. And I’m not about to deprive her. Or me. I slap her other butt cheek and admire how both are now a rosy red. Fitting.

“Yes! Yes!”

Her words spur me on. I reach down and rub her clit while biting her earlobe. My balls draw up, warning me I’m closing in on the point of no return. I flick her nub twice more. She freezes, then convulses around me. I add my groan to her sounds of ecstasy as I empty into her body. Gasping for breath, I collapse onto her back, thrusting into her warmth to milk every ounce of my orgasm.

After a minute of labored breathing, she flips her head. “That was amazing.”

“No complaints here.” With a deep breath, I hoist myself up and help her stand, only letting go when I’m sure she’s regained her footing. Then she surprises me by removing the condom, tying it off, and tossing it into the bin.

Hot Chick rubs her palm over my exposed tat, kissing my sweaty chest. I still her movements by grasping her wrist and lift it. She helped me forget about my treacherous mother for a short time. And rid me of all the rage building inside, even for a little while. My lips circle her pointer and I bite.

She pulls her finger out of my mouth and licks it. Damn. “Pleasure was mine.” She winks. “And yours.”

I slide up my underwear and jeans. Bending down, I pick up my shirt from the tile floor. Which exposes her pile of clothes, topped off with her Push-up Bra. My eyes narrow. Between her fake eyelashes, dyed highlights, and false chest she presents to the world, she’s a liar just like the rest. I yank on my shirt.

My gaze rakes her naked body from tip to stern.

The sound of my jeans zipping ricochets off the bathroom.

“Thanks.”

My long strides take me to the door, which I unlock and pass through without sparing a backward glance. My whole life has been based on a lie. Meaningless hookups in random bathrooms with other liars are all I deserve.

Chapter 3 - Cordelia

“Slow down, Juanita.” I remove the phone from my ear and glance around the grey carpeted walls of my cubicle. No one in the office is paying any attention to me. Good. Keeping my voice low, in stark contrast to my rising internal temperature, I return the phone close to my mouth and whisper, “What are you saying?”

My sister huffs. “Mom gambled away my tuition money!”

I grab onto my long, brown hair, watching as some of the red highlights dance in the fluorescent lighting. My drug store dye job is about the only “good” thing about this day. Seriously. Could life get any worse? An email pops up on my screen from my co-worker, Rita Ortiz, about tonight’s concert. Without thought, I minimize it. “Are you sure?”

I’m surprised her shriek doesn’t cause a stampede to my desk. “Of course I’m sure. And the cosmetology school wants its money like yesterday!”

I wrap a lock around my finger and inhale. “Have you spoken with the school to ask for an extension? I’m sure many students don’t have five thousand sitting around to pay.”

“You know I called them.” Papers rustle. “They told me, and I quote, ‘there are no exceptions.’ And it’s too late to apply for a loan.”

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