I lower the paper, mind thrown back to that night. Tilda in my bed, her sweet scent fogging the room. That complicated worry over hurting her. My body singing just having her near. Hating it and loving it.
Jesus, is that really a road she wants to go down? One made of broken glass, bound to slice and cut and wound us.
Fancy isn’t a word that comes to mind when I think of her. There are darker words more befitting. Feelings that don’t even have names. She might favour the others in that way, they might have won her over, but not me. Jesus, not me. What would that even mean? What would that look like? It’s such a black scramble in my brain just to think about. Wouldn’t end well, anyway. It just couldn’t. We’ve been cursed since day one.
My ears twitch when I hear a noise below. Not laughter this time. A definite moan. One of Tilda’s. I close my eyes, damning the instant throbbing in my clit. Not as though I haven’t heard her before. Her and Elly. Her and Haz. All three of them this time? Happy fucking birthday.
With a scornful smile, I lie back on my bed, that dark red kiss held above me.
I swallow, thinking of her lips, that flush I feel every time she kisses one of the others. Like I’m some fucking prude. But it’s not that. It’s imagining those lips on mine, some invasive thought I have no control over. Same thoughts from a decade ago and here they are again.
Her face goes so smoky, even when it’s just a peck. And those fucking eyes, so fluttery and heavy. Looking like she’s just had sex, no matter the time of day, no matter where we are.
Do you fancy me?
I run a fingertip over the kiss.
Oh, you are playing with fire, Matilda. One we’ll both burn in.
My chest turns heavy as her moans grow more desperate. I hear Haz grunt, either one of exertion or pleasure, I don’t know. Don’t care. It’s only Tilda’s noises that make it hard to breathe, feeling like I might come just by moving my legs. I hold in a groan as I push a hand between them, raising my hips to meet it.
I try not to do this. Sometimes I’m successful, other times…not. Today is one of those other times. Tilda’s kiss in my hands, endorphins softening my mind, the sound of her just metres below me.
Palm flat, I rub myself over my clothes, breath stuttering at the pleasure. I speed up as Tilda gets louder. I let myself imagine what they’re doing to her. Probably strapping her knowing Haz. Strapping her hard.
I imaginemyselfstrapping her, letting her feel every fucking thing I have over the last ten years. And she’ll like it. She’ll beg for it. She’ll let it atone her.
I bend my legs, my lonely breaths harsh in the room. I rub myself faster. I need to come before she does, staving off that empty feeling that would consume me otherwise.
I gasp when pleasure shoots between my legs. I rub tighter, harder, my arm screaming, the muscles corded.
‘Come on,’ I grit out, my other hand fisted around Tilda’s kiss.
It’s like dynamite when it finally hits. I press the kiss over my mouth, muffling my groan, pretending the kiss is real, that Tilda’s moans are because of me. I squeeze myself with my hand, hard enough for it to hurt, my inner walls clenching desperately around nothing.
Then the orgasm ebbs, Tilda shuts up, and I’m left with that black, viscous self-disgust I feel every time this happens.
Sitting up, I unrumple the kitchen roll, smoothing it with a strange desperation. I put it back in its box, sliding it safely to the back of my drawer.
Then, for the billionth time, I vow never to do that again.
Tilda
I hum as Haz pulls out of me, the sensation burning as much as it’s soothing.
‘So much for going slow,’ Elly scoffs, looking all lonely over on the edge of the bed.
Haz sits back on her heels, grinning down at me. ‘Didn’t want it slow, did you, baby?’
I smile weakly, gliding my eyes over her half-clad body, the black sports bra and harness darkening her skin. Elly’s dressed similarly, only minus the harness. I want them both naked but maybe this is just how they do it. Not sure I’d be keen on seeing my BFF fully naked either.
I pull them both to me for a cuddle. It’s definitely break time. Gonna turn to dust if I don’t get some water in me soon.
‘What are we up to?’
‘Five?’ Elly hazards a guess.
Haz grins, flicking the tip of her dildo. ‘Six.’