“It’s Saturday tomorrow,” I say. “We need some normality. How about you come over for some beers in the evening, we’ll try to wind this shit-storm back down to some kind of decency. A few drinks, maybe a film. Absolutely no spanking.” I laugh but he doesn’t laugh with me.
“I’ll let you know,” he says as he gets to the door.
“You can stay if you want,” I tell him. “You can take the sofa,” I add hastily, in case there was any confusion.
He’s already halfway down the drive when he raises his hand in a thanks but no thanks.
It appears he doesn’t want a ride home either.
He’s turned the corner before I’ve even found my keys.
Chapter Seventeen
Michael
I walk fast, head down and hands in my pockets, guilt rattling through me at the thought of how badly I’ve desecrated my professional judgement. This should never be. This thing with Carrie was bad enough, this craziness with Jack involved is nothing short of criminal.
But it’s not criminal.
It violates the moral code of my career, but it’s not criminal. Not on paper.
She’s of age and willing. Definitely willing.
And we mean her no harm, Jack and I. Quite the opposite.
But that matters not. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of what nearly went down in there, and sicker still to know that my cock is still rock fucking hard, no matter how harshly I condemn myself.
I could have fucked her then handed her over to Jack to do the same. We could’ve taken turns all night long. I could still be there now, buried deep inside the only girl who’s ever made me lose my fucking mind.
Would I have still been hard as I watched him take her? Would I still have wanted her pretty little pussy in my face if he’d been inside her first?
Yes.
It sickens me, but it’s the truth of it.
Me and Jack are close, close enough to weather anything. But this? How can we possibly come through this unchanged if one of us ends up hooked up with the girl we’re both insane about?
And if we don’t come through it?
If we can’t?
It doesn’t bear thinking about. Neither does losing Carrie after coming this far.
The memory of searching for her day after day, night after night, is still terrifyingly vivid. The fear of never seeing her again still palpable.
The fear of watching her fall in love with my best friend should be a walk in the park after all that, but it isn’t.
Jealousy isn’t me, it never has been, but it feels that way tonight. Sharing her seems a better option than being left out in the cold, but sharing a girl isn’t something that any sane man in my position should ever consider.
No. We can’t share her.
We shouldn’t even be considering the possibility. Neither of us.
We should never have broken the boundaries we’ve already ploughed through tonight, but it’s too late for that now.
I’m almost back to the main stretch of town when I just can’t hold it any longer. I slip behind the old oak we used to scale as kids and pull down my zip. My cock is throbbing as I wrap my hand around the length, my breath coming in grunts as I jerk myself off.
Fuck, it feels so much better than it should.
I remember how she wriggled against my lap, the feel of her smooth ass against my palm. Her clammy thighs, the pretty swollen pink of her pussy. The way she looked at me after Jack gave her a good hiding, the way she so willingly dropped herself over my knees.
The way she looked over his knees.
The way he spanked her.
I slam my head into the trunk of the oak, eyes screwed tight as I shoot my load. My dick twitches as the rush floods me. I’m lightheaded and disoriented, open-mouthed at the filthy pleasure of sharing that girl with the man who’s been at my side my whole fucking life.
I stuff my cock back in my pants and catch my breath, stumbling back out onto the main road to continue my walk back to regular civilisation.
This isn’t me.
I was never like this with Molly, but Molly wasn’t anything like Carrie Wells. Molly never let me indulge any of my darkest fantasies, she never wanted any of them.
The only person who’s ever known the shit I’m really into is Jack.
Trips to visit him at University. The mad thrill of going along with his wild hedonism without the pressure of social standing back home. Without the gossip and the whispers, and the fear of everyone in the corner shop knowing about your kinky sex life.
Jack’s a dirty sonofabitch. It’s one of the reasons he’s chronically single.
Jack knows what he likes, and he likes pretty much everything.
He goes for what he wants, and he wants Carrie Wells.
I think he even wants her as much as I do.
It’s a relief to stride through the high street and arrive on my own doorstep. Pam’s light is on downstairs and I see the curtain twitch as I turn my key in the lock.