“Where are you going?”
“Back to studying.”
I rolled over onto my back and groaned. “What am I going to do?”
“Talk to him.” Chris smiled down at me.
“I have to work with him tomorrow night,” I said.
“Talk to him then. You know where I’ll be if you need me.” She walked back into her bedroom and shut the door. I rolled onto my side and clicked on the TV.
Chris was always pretty cold and logical, and I knew she was right. But the last thing I wanted at that moment was to talk to him. I felt used and manipulated, like he had known all of these special secrets about me and was using them to get into my pants. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but I already had my reservations about him. Lying to my face, then kissing me, was pretty much the tipping point.
Exhausted, but more than a little frustrated, I lost myself in some bad TV shows for a while. But that only had so much power to keep me from thinking about Noah and the kiss. His lips had been soft and perfect, and I had lost myself in his taste. I climbed out of my seat and was practically in his lap. Not to mention how hard his cock was afterward, and how he wasn’t ashamed to let me see it pressing against the fabric of his pants.
Face red, I turned off the television then went back to my room. I opened my drawer and pulled out my favorite vibrator. I felt bad masturbating to thoughts of that asshole, but I couldn’t help myself; for some reason, the guilt made it even hotter.
I pictured going down on him right there in the theater, slipping his huge cock into my mouth. I could already see how big it was and thick, and the kind of groaning grunts he’d make as I worked him. As he built up to orgasm, I’d stop and look him in the eye, smiling. He’d be practically begging me, huge dick rock stiff in his hand, perfect lips and face set in a hard look. Eventually, he’d grab my hips and pull off my clothes. I’d pretend to protest, but he’d see through my flimsy words. I’d stand in front of him, covering my spot, open mouthed. He’d pick me up then and slowly lower me onto him. I’d slide slowly down his length, up and down, riding him in the theater.
I pressed my toy deep inside myself, savoring the image. I imagined his huge, hard cock, maybe slap him once or twice, and he’d grab my ass, thrusting hard. Eventually, I’d come hard. As I pictured this, I felt my body stiffen and my toes point as I worked myself up to a real orgasm. I peaked as I pictured climbing off of him, his cock still hard, and leaving him begging me for more.
Eventually, my real life orgasm passed, and I relaxed in my sheets, still glowing from my revenge-fuck fantasy. I wasn’t usually into sadism, but he deserved whatever fantasy I could cook up.
Bored and content, I pulled out my laptop and logged into Facebook. Without thinking, I clicked the icon that said I had a message, and stared at Noah’s grinning face.
Noah: Where’d you run off to tonight?
He had sent it about five minutes ago, just as I began to get off while imagining his perfect body wrapped around me. It was almost like he had a sixth sense for when a girl was masturbating to him.
What a creep. And yet there I was, unable to stop myself from getting off at the mere thought of what he could do to my body.
I stared at his message for a while, wondering what to do. I knew what Chris would say if she were in the room, though I was pretty glad she wasn’t. But I wasn’t Chris, and I was still hurt and annoyed, even if I had just imagined how it would feel to slide myself down along him in an empty movie theater.
As I was just about to shut the laptop lid in a huff, I got another message.
Noah: Hey, you there? Is everything okay? I’m a little worried.
I rolled my eyes. Was he for real? There was no way Noah Carterson was losing any of his peace of mind over me. Maybe I had left him a little sexually frustrated, but he definitely deserved that. Really, he deserved way more than that. He had gotten off easy, or not gotten off, as the case may be.
With a sharp exhale, I slammed my laptop lid shut. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of buying into his whole “worried guy” routine. Let him be worried, if he really was. The asshole could probably figure out what the issue was on his own.
I climbed out of bed, changed into more comfortable clothes, and began to dedicate myself to the almost pointless task of trying to read for class. My mind was spinning in a million different directions, but I still had to be prepared for my classes.
Even if the only thing I really wanted to do was curl up in my bed and dream of mainlining a whole shipping container full of junk food.
Chapter Ten
You can cast your net as wide as you want, you can look as far as possible, you can create the largest pool of people possible, but in the end you’re always stuck with those you’re closest to. You don’t always get to choose who that is, and sometimes they sneak up on you and appear in the frame. Regardless of what happens, you just keep coming back, you keep getting put into the same bit role and you love it because that’s who you are. You’re not acting when you’re playing yourself.