Morgan opened her eyes to the electronic chirping of her alarm. She turned it off and rolled over to find the other side of her bed empty and cold. It was a feeling she was still getting used to. Some mornings, it made her sad. Some mornings, it made her angry. Some mornings, it made her hopeful. And some mornings, it made her irresistibly horny. She rubbed her thighs together under the covers to see if this was one of those mornings. It wasn’t.
She shifted onto her back and stretched her arms out, arching her neck and leaning her head back against the pillow before reaching for her glasses on the nightstand. Once her vision came into focus, she reached for her phone. No missed calls, no new messages. She knew that already. Her ringtone and text notifications had been turned all the way up for the past month. Still, she sighed.
“Hector.” The name slipped through her lips without her permission.
She pulled the blankets off and climbed out of bed, her men’s-sized t-shirt slipping down past her hips to cover her baby blue panties. The late spring sun shone in through the window. She used to love the way it highlighted the whites, off-whites, and yellows of the room. Now she just wanted to close the blinds and turn everything dark like a moody teenager going through a goth phase.
Her long, hazelnut hair slid down her shoulders in cascading knots and split ends. Her eyes matched their color. Guys didn’t seem to notice until they were hip-deep inside her. Hector was an exception.
She walked on the balls of her bare feet to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and placing her phone on the toilet tank before turning on the shower. For the sixth morning in a row, she wondered if it was really worth it to take a shower before she went for a run. Then she reminded herself that it was one of the few contacts she had left with the outside world. She wanted to look her best, and smell her best too.
Stepping into the shower was easy. She braced her hands against her wall, leaned her weight against her wrists, and lowered her head, closing her eyes to embrace the torrent of hot water running down her back. She could still feel the power of his thrusts, the heat of his moans against her ear, the tight grip of his fingers digging into her hips. She thought about touching herself, but decided against it, knowing it would only leave her feeling unsatisfied in the end.
The shower lasted longer than she needed it to. She washed herself twice over, every nook and cranny. Then she put enough shampoo in her hair to make it shine like fine silk. She didn’t do this because she was a germaphobe, or compulsive, or vain. She did it simply because she didn’t want to leave. Leaving would mean turning her back on the place that held the last intimate memory she had with him, and she could hardly bear it, regardless of how many showers she’s taken since then.
It was the cost of the bill that finally motivated her to turn the water off and step out. The last one was high enough, and she couldn’t afford for the next one to be higher.
She couldn’t help but admire her skin as she dried herself off, the way it reflected the light like bronzed porcelain. She didn’t normally like the way it tanned, but she was getting a good color and an even coat with the warmer weather approaching. If she had someone to go to bed with, she knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. He would suck on her succulent tits, marveling at their size and shape, making her nipples swell and protrude. Her pussy would be freshly shaved for him, her skin slick and smooth, slathering all over his cock as he rubbed it against her, teasing her relentlessly.
She didn’t notice how turned on she was until she tucked the towel between her legs and let out a moan. She tucked it again, and again, and again, back and forth over and over. Her breath shuddered in a way she hadn’t felt in weeks. Her knees grew weak, and she felt compelled to sit on the toilet seat and spread her legs, replacing the towel with her fingers, sliding them down either side of her swollen clit. Her free hand squeezed her breast, her fingers pinching her nipple at the very peak. Her hips began to roll, her sweat rising to the surface of her skin, her escalating moans filling the cramped space with heat and longing.
The phone rang behind her, catching her off guard and jolting her out of her fantasy, her hand resting on her racing heart as she reached behind her and checked the name on the screen. It was Claire. She answered the call and put it on speaker.
“Hey, Morgan.”
“Hey.”
“Sorry to call so early. I just wanted to check in on you.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you?”
Her blissful sigh told her everything she needed to know, and everything she didn’t want to know.
“Oh, I’m great. I’m lying in bed in some guy’s apartment. I don’t even know his last name.”
“Just the size of his dick, huh?”
“Mm-hmm. It’s nothing to brag about, but at least he knows how to use it. And God, the things he could do with his tongue.”
“Yeah, I get it, Claire. Thanks.”
“Sorry.”
The word didn’t mean anything coming from her. She knew her little sex romps made Morgan jealous and uncomfortable. She just didn’t care.
“Anyway, how’s your vacation going?”
“Back tomorrow.”
Morgan rose to her feet, picked up the towel, wrapped it around her chest under her arms, and wiped the steam from the mirror to check the state of her hair.
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“I know it’s not, but I go back tomorrow. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I hope you’re not blaming me. It’s not like I put a gun to your head and forced you to take some time off.”
“No, Claire. No, you didn’t.” She picked up her hairbrush and ran it through the same spot over and over again, applying more pressure with each pass until it no longer pulled at her scalp. “You just pulled every other trick in the book is all.”
“Can you blame me? I was worried about you.”
“And how does this help? I told you over and over again that I used up the last of my vacation days already. I can’t afford to take another day off, let alone a whole week.”
“And I told you that I would send you more than enough money to make up for it, didn’t I? So don’t worry about it.”
Morgan knew she would never see a dime. She just couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud and sift through the mountain of excuses Claire had prepared for her.
“Anyway, I gotta go. I want to join Brad in the shower before he finishes up.”
“Brad, huh?”
“Yeah, or Bill. I can’t remember. Hope you enjoy the last of your vacation, Morgan. I’m thinking about you.”
“Thank you.” She hung up before she said something she knew she was gonna regret, then she continued brushing her hair until she got all the knots out.
Claire was Morgan’s older sister. She was also a married woman. Her husband’s name was Fred, not Brad. Or Bill. Either way, Morgan couldn’t bring herself to feel too bad for Fred, seeing as how he was sleeping with Claire while she was still married to her first husband.
“You marry a cheater, that’s what you get.” She told him that once, but her words fell on deaf ears. He told her she didn’t understand. He said Claire loved him for him, not for his money, and she would never do anything to hurt him. Morgan did understand. More than he did. She knew her sister, and she knew that Fred wasn’t even her type.
She walked into her bedroom and turned on the TV, half-listening to the weather channel as she picked out a pair of gray leggings and a black sports bra from her closet. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and sighed, leaning her head down and holding her face in her hands, letting the towel come undone around her chest as she tuned out the voice of the newscaster.
She didn’t have to go on morning runs when she was with Hector. They burned enough calories in bed together, and in the shower, and on the kitchen counter. It was healthy, it was passionate, and she wanted it back more than anything.
But it was never coming back, and she was still trying to figure out how to live without it.
“Get out there and meet new people. A young, attractive woman like yourself, you’ll find someone else in no time.”
“Focus on yourself, dear. Treat yourself to a weekend at the spa. You’ll feel like a whole new woman, I promise.”
“You gotta date a couple’a the bad eggs, kinda guys who always have a few women on the side. Let ‘em give you a good fuck, then let ‘em leave. Make you forget all about this Hector guy, trust me. Just make sure they don’t carry nothin’. And no rubbers either. Let yourself feel it all. You are on the pill, right?”
All of this advice came from her coworkers, and all of it was unsolicited. They made it sound so easy, and that was how she knew that none of them had been through anything like this themselves. They didn’t even know the full story. They cut her off too many times to hear the end of it, having an answer ready for her before she even opened her mouth.
She raised her head with a deep breath. Then she stood up, laid the towel on the bed, and got dressed. Routine. It wasn’t the key, but it did help. She started a new routine with Hector, one that kept her in a constant state of euphoria. It broke her out of a lot of her habits; good habits to have when you lived alone. Running was the first one she wanted to get back into the swing of.
She caught a glimpse of red on the weather radar before she turned the TV off. It didn’t look like it was heading for her area, so she paid it no mind.
While the habit of running was still a work in progress, the habit of listening to music during her runs had been laid to rest, at least for the time being. She had too many love songs on her playlist. She didn’t have the heart to get rid of them, but she didn’t have the courage to listen to them. They stirred up too many memories, and too many unfulfilled promises of what could’ve been. So she instead opted to listen to the bustling sounds of the city for a third of her run, and the calming serenity of nature for the rest of it.
Her shoes weren’t top of the line. In fact, they weren’t much good at all. They were worn with age and needed to be replaced, the insoles slapping against the concrete like two slabs of rawhide. She kept up the tempo all the same, breathing in time with the lunging pace of her strides, her loose ponytail flapping freely behind her. She kept her phone clipped to her waistband in case an unexpected emergency came up, or in case a certain name in her contacts appeared on her lockscreen.
She rounded the corner of her block, leaving her apartment building behind as she headed for the park, the early morning air still crisp and cool with fresh dew, the sun shining through the clouds to comfort her with the knowledge that it was still there. She weaved through young couples out on walks, other runners heading in the opposite direction, a bicyclist or two. She only saw one umbrella hanging from the wrist of a middle-aged woman waiting for her dog to mark its scent on a fire hydrant. Either she was the only smart one, or she went through the trouble for nothing.
The path she chose through the park was a popular one for runners, allowing them to put in a mile or two free from the obstacles of the city streets. It led her uphill, downhill, through winding trails between the trees. It let her breathe in the aroma of blooming flowers and listen to the birdsongs coming down from the treetops. None of them were love songs, which she approved of.
She was about halfway through the trail when she inhaled a scent that made her slow down. She could sense the sky getting darker above the canopy. The sweat on her skin began to give her chills. Just when she was thinking about taking a shortcut back, she felt a drop of rain on her shoulder, then another one, then three more. They pattered and splashed on the dirt path in front of her, then they pummeled it, turning the light brown soil into mud before her eyes. The leaves above her head fought a losing battle to keep her dry, caving in under the rushing weight of the water and the whipping force of the wind.
Everyone around her ran for cover, shrieking and laughing. None of them noticed the pavilion off the beaten path before she did. She had to run through a field to get to it, and she moved fast, refusing to let the sinking ground beneath her suck the shoes off her feet. A flash of lighting lit up the sky behind her by the time she was under the roof, panting and blinking the water from her eye that had dripped from her brow. She took her glass off and rubbed the lenses against the fabric of her pant leg only to realize she wasn’t drying them so much as smearing the water around and making it worse.
Not that it mattered. She had nowhere to go and nothing to see, so she left them off and set them on the picnic table. Her hair was soaked along with the rest of her. She removed her scrunchie and let it fall free before it did any permanent damage, trying in vain to dry it out by combing her fingers through it.
With nothing left to do, she sat down on the bench with her back turned to the table, rested her forearms on her thighs, hunched her shoulders, and listened to the endless roar of rainfall. A strange thought passed through her mind, and she wondered if she would’ve been bold enough to have sex with Hector in a situation like this if the opportunity arose. It didn’t take her long to come to the conclusion that she probably would’ve so long as he made the first move. They’d have to be discreet about it though. She’d start by giving him a handjob, getting him nice and hard while keeping watch for any lurking eyes. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she’d pull her leggings down to her knees and sit on his lap with her back turned to him, her legs closed tight as she’d ride his length nice and slow, knowing that doing it too fast would make it all the more obvious. She also knew that if he wanted to go fast regardless, there’d be no way she could deny him.
She leaned back against the table and rubbed her legs together, her heart racing when she felt an unexpected surge of arousal between her thighs, her mind flooding with thoughts she shouldn’t be having in public. She unclipped her phone from her leggings and set it down on the table behind her, looking around to make sure there was no one else nearby. She could only make out shadows and vague shapes without her glasses on, but she didn’t see anything moving. The rain gave her no reason to think it was going to let up anytime soon, the rolling thunder drawing closer with each flash of lightning.
Against her better judgment, and defying all societal norms, she slid her hand down her waistband and began to finger herself, stroking her clit in a way that made her hips move beneath her touch. Her head tilted back, her moans rising with her heaving chest. Hector’s name slipped through her lips when she slid a finger inside, the syllables rising to the roof to be washed away like they were never spoken in the first place.
She fucked herself slow and deep, imitating the pace of his hips but unable to replicate their power. The tight fabric of her leggings constricted her movements. She’d have to take them off, but she knew that’d be pushing her luck too far. It didn’t matter. She had toys at home, and she had every intent to head back and use them as soon as the storm passed. In that moment, she couldn’t think of a better way to spend the last day of her vacation.
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
Her breath hitched in her throat and came to a sudden stop, her eyes opened wide, her heart pounding against her ribcage with panic. The voice came from behind her, compelling her to lean forward and hunch down as she slipped her hand out of her pants, hoping beyond reason that whoever it was hadn’t noticed yet.
“Um, y-yes?” She looked over her shoulder to see the blurry silhouette of a man standing on the other side of the table, tall and light-skinned, his figure attractive enough to catch her attention. She scrambled for her glasses and put them on to find him greeting her with a smile free of judgment.
“Sorry to bother you. Uh, could I use your phone for a minute?” he asked, pointing to it on the table. “Mine got lost somewhere in…” He gestured behind him out toward the muddied mess of tree trunks and wind gails and thunderclaps. “Out there, and I really need to call my girlfriend.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” She picked it up and stretched her arm over the table, waiting for him to lean over and grab it.
“Thank you so much.”
It wasn’t until after he took it from her that she remembered she was still using a picture of her and Hector together for her lockscreen, standing in the foreground of the city skyline on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in the area.
“Uh, could you…?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
She huffed out an embarrassed laugh through her nose as he made his way around the table and sat down next to her, handing the phone back to her. She unlocked the phone for him with a shaky hand, setting it up for him to dial a number, giving him no reason in the world to lay eyes on her background image which was more than a little risque.
“Here you go,” she said, handing it back to him.
“Thank you.” He held the phone in front of him, stared at the screen, and hesitated with an uncertain chuckle.
“What?”
He shook his head in response.
“Uh, I don’t know her number by heart.”
“Really?” she giggled.
“I mean, who remembers phone numbers anymore? Can you tell me your boyfriend’s number off the top of your head?”
“Well, no.” Yes, she could. She had it memorized in case she was ever dumb enough to delete it. “Just about the only number I can recite by heart is my own.”
“Yeah, I’d imagine that’s the case with most people nowadays.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
He shrugged and leaned back with a sigh.
“Guess I’m gonna have to wait it out.”
“Aww, so you’re stuck here with little old me?”
He turned his head in time to meet her gaze, handing her phone back to her with a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Looks that way, doesn’t it?”
He was a runner too. She could tell by his shoes. They were the same brand as hers, and they had the same creases on them; the same cracks in the soles. Too bad he wasn’t her type. It wasn’t that he was ugly. He was more mismatched, like an experiment gone wrong. His arms were too long for his torso and his ears were too big for his head. He had the workings of a chiseled chin, but his jawline had too many dimples and ridges to pass for a perfect sculpt.
Still, her eyes lingered on him longer than they should’ve. She couldn’t deny that his muscles had a nice, lean tone to them, and she could see herself running her fingers through the pale blonde chest hairs that peeked out from the collar of his tanktop, still damp with rainwater and sweat.
“I’m Todd, by the way.”
He extended his hand for a shake. She accepted the invitation.
“I’m Morgan.”
His eyes wanted to look her up and down below the neck. She could tell by the way they quivered. He blinked the temptation away and broke her gaze, turning back around to face away from her.
“So, uh, Morgan, I guess we’re the lucky ones in a way.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well,” he shrugged. “We got some decent shelter, at least. And we got it to ourselves.”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “That’s true.”
“Then again, I guess we’re the idiots who decided to go for a run in the first place.”
“Yeah, I, uh…” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know about the storm before I went out this morning. Must’ve missed it on the weather channel.”
“Well, what about your phone?” he asked, pointing to it with a lazy flick of his wrist. “I mean, that’s what it’s there for, right?”
“Yeah, I’m kind of weird like that. I don’t really check my phone for the weather anymore. It’s hard to explain.”
“You mean because you’re dating the weather guy?”
“Huh?” Her eyes went wide, her heart racing for reasons she couldn’t discern at that particular moment.
“You know, the weather guy. Hector something. That’s who you were with in that picture, right?”
She averted her gaze with a sigh, feeling more exposed than she had reason to.
“Hector Cabello. Yeah, that’s him.”
“Cabello, right. Didn’t he just retire or something?”
“No.” Her sigh grew more anxious, more agitated. “He didn’t retire. The news station two states over offered him a bigger salary, so he’s working there now.”
“Oh.” The tone of his voice clued her in that he was finally starting to get it. “So you two aren’t- I mean, not anymore?”
She shook her head.
“Nope.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to harp on it like I did. It’s just, you two looked so happy in the picture together that I thought-”
“It’s fine.” She leaned forward and closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sound of the rain wash her emotions away. “It’s fine.”
“You loved him, didn’t you?”
She nodded, rubbing her palms together with splayed fingers.
“Still do.”
“How long did it last?”
“All of three months.”
“Three months, huh?”
“Yep,” she said, leaning back once more and glancing in his direction to make sure he was still there. “He warned me that it might happen too. That’s the real bitch of it.”
“Hey, at least you had something real with him, right? I’d give anything to have that, even if it lasted three days.”
She gave him a skeptical look, trying to put the pieces of him together in ways that didn’t quite fit.
“What about this girlfriend of yours? The one whose number you can’t remember?”
He huffed a scoff through his nose and shook his head.
“We’re on rocky terrain, to say the least.”
“How come?” Part of her felt bad for being so nosy, but she figured it was only fair since she was so open with him.
“Caught her cheating on me a few months ago. Was dumb enough to give her a second chance. I have no reason to think she’s been unfaithful to me since then, but I don’t know. Can’t help but feel like it’s just a matter of time, you know?”
“It is,” she said, her voice blunt enough to cut through the bullshit. “Dump her before she breaks your heart again. You’re too good for her.”
“I don’t know,” he sighed. “Maybe I’m not, and maybe it’s better than ending up alone.”
“So what if you end up alone for a while? You’ll bounce back. Kick that bitch to the curb. Let her prey on someone else for a change.”
“It’s not that easy, Morgan.” He shot her a glance, warning her to let it go before looking away again.
“It never is. But you have to stand up for yourself and let her know that she can’t…” Morgan’s gaze dropped to the bulge in his running shorts, the rain-soaked fabric clinging to his skin underneath, giving her a clear outline of his size and shape.
“Can’t what?”
She brought her gaze back to his, and he noticed the color of her eyes. She held her breath, waiting for him to make the observation about her hair. His smile told her that he made the connection, and she reached out to touch him before he could say anything. She cupped his bulge in her hand and gave it a squeeze, rubbing her palm against it as she watched his reaction.
“Morgan, what are you-”
“Shh.” She didn’t know what she was doing, and she didn’t give herself time to think about it. His bulge strained against the fabric of his clothes as she rubbed it harder and faster, his moans driving her to keep going, to keep pushing. “Does that feel good, Ted?”
“My-” A shuddering gasp swept away the rest of his words when Morgan slipped her hand under his waistband, grabbing his cock by the base and tugging at his foreskin. His head tilted back, his eyes fluttered closed, and his body struggled to contain the desire coursing through him.
Just when she started to ask herself if she had crossed a line, he hooked his thumb into his shorts and lifted his hips off the seat to pull them down, giving her permission to take his cock out and stroke it in the open air. She marveled at its length, letting out a soft moan at the sight of pre-cum leaking from the tip.
“I don’t know how anyone could cheat on you with a cock like that.” Her lips were at his ear, her voice taking on a tone she hardly recognized. “Do you fuck your girlfriend with this thing every night?”
He shook his head, struggling to speak through panted breaths as she stroked him from base to tip and back down again.
“We haven’t had sex in a while.”
“I can tell. You’re so pent up.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek, her voice a hot whisper against his skin. “Let me take care of that for you.”
His hips twitched in place as she rubbed her thumb against the crown of his cock. He turned his head to kiss her lips, his hand reaching up to cradle the side of her face, his fingers brushing the hairs on the nape of her neck. It made her moan in his mouth and press herself against him.
Hector used to touch her in the same way when he wanted her. The only thing missing was his chin stubble, but she was too lost in the moment to care.
She held the kiss for a moment longer before breaking it off, gazing into his eyes and biting her bottom lip as she stroked him faster. Then she leaned over his lap and took him in her mouth, sliding her lips along the head until they tugged at the skin beneath the ridge, her tongue flicking at the slit to lap up his fluids.
She hadn’t tasted anyone since Hector. She almost forgot that different men had different flavors. His tasted wet, and she could tell it wasn’t just because of the rainwater. There was something more to it, something verile and creamy. She wanted more of it, compelling her to take more of his shaft into her mouth, her head bobbing up and down in his lap, her lips stroking his foreskin at a steady pace.
The more she sucked him off, the more she realized that she couldn’t fit all of him into her mouth. She could fit all of Hector with the right angle of approach, but not him. It made her wonder how far he could fit in other places, so she withdrew her mouth and panted for air, jerking him off to keep him hard as she met his gaze, her voice coming out more hoarse and desperate than she meant it to.
“I wanna ride you.”
He nodded in agreement, letting out a trembling breath as she rose to her feet and stood in front of him with grace and purpose. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move as she turned her back to him and bent over, pulling her leggings down to her knees to reveal the folds of her pussy tucked neatly between her thighs, the cold, damp air caressing her bare buttocks with a sense of worship and exposure. She lifted her head to stare at the constant downpour in front of her, trying to gauge how much time she had left before it cleared up and what she could do in that time.
Just as she was starting to measure it all, she felt something other than air touch her ass, and she knew it had to be him, his warm palm and curious fingers a welcome intrusion. She arched her back and pressed back into his grasp, knowing in that moment that she didn’t have half as much time with him as she would’ve liked.
She embraced it nonetheless, letting out a soft moan and looking over her shoulder with a sly grin, encouraging him to continue. Thankfully he did, and her moans grew louder as she felt a finger run along the outer lips of her pussy. She braced her hands against the wooden pillar in front of her, chipped with old paint and splinters, and pushed herself deeper into his touch, her eyes snapping shut and her mouth gaping open as she felt the penetration of that same finger, then another, his free hand holding her ass steady as he began to fuck her slow and deep, her hips swaying with the motion, her pussy swelling against the rolls of her thighs.
“Oh, God, don’t stop.”
She could hear the sound of it, the lewd whispers of fluid and skin. She closed her eyes and pictured herself alone in her bedroom with him. Her pussy gushed at the thought of all the things they could do to each other in that private setting.
“I want your cock, Ted.”
That was his cue to stop, to grab her by the hips and pull her down onto his lap. But he didn’t. He kept fingering her as if her words fell on deaf ears, and she realized that he was set on doing it until she climaxed. She could’ve, but she didn’t want to. She wanted something deeper and more daring.
So she took matters into her own hands, pulling away from his touch and backing up in awkward baby steps until she was in position, trying not to trip on her leggings as she grabbed the bench on either side of him and lowered herself down, trusting him to hold his cock steady at the very least. She felt the tip brush against her lips with a guided hand, giving her the confidence to sit down the rest of the way, his blunder all but forgotten when she felt the full extent of his length nestled inside her.
She pushed herself up on her palms and lowered herself back down, again and again, faster and faster, building up a rhythm until she could hear her skin slap against his. Her head tilted back, her hair sliding down her shoulders, her breasts straining against her bra, feeling imprisoned and left out.
“God, you’re so deep.”
Her words finally compelled him to grab her by the hips, his own hips moving with hers as he lifted them up to thrust into her, reminding her that he was his own person with his own desires and not just a puppet for her pleasure.
She was fine with it as long as his desires aligned with hers, and she bounced on him even harder, the heat of her moans rising to the ceiling of the pavilion, their volume spilling out into the rain to be pulverized and wiped from existence.
“When’s the last time you fucked someone besides that cunt?”
“Who, Melissa?” His fingers dug deeper into her skin, and she knew he was enjoying this just as much as she was. “I haven’t been with anyone else since we started dating.”
His moans rose and mingled with hers, his grip pulling her down on top of him with just the right amount of force, his length reaching deeper inside her than she was prepared for.
“Oh, God, fuck me just like that.”
She leaned forward and closed her eyes, letting his hands guide the pace of her hips, her voice slipping through her lips in breathless gasps.
“Should I come inside you?” he asked, his inquisitive tone lacking the raw passion she craved.
“No, don’t come yet. I’m almost there.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just-”
“Just don’t come yet.”
She concentrated on the silence of his voice and the length of his cock, the way it felt inside her, the way she knew it could fill her up. She had relied on sex toys for too long, but all the sex toys in the world couldn’t compare to the real thing. The motion of skin on skin, the mix of fluids, the shared feeling of ecstasy, she missed it all even more than she realized, and she wasn’t ready for it to end just yet.
She held on for as long as she could before she finally came. Her hips bucked in his grasp, her gasps turning loud and sharp, her pussy clamping down on his cock, trying in desperation to milk it to the point of climax. But he came a moment too late, flooding her with his seed after her orgasm had already passed, the sensation of it leaving her feeling warm and full. And dissatisfied.
“Oh, God.” She could hear him panting for air behind her, his erection going flaccid inside her, the sun breaking through the dark clouds as the rain slowed down to a light drizzle. “Did you come too?”
“Mm-hmm.” She looked over her shoulder and gave him a convincing smile, pushing herself off of him and feeling his cum leaking out onto her thighs. She pulled her leggings up and tucked her curves back into place before turning around to face him. He almost looked sexy sitting there catching his breath, his chest heaving, his face caked with sweat, his penis flaccid and spent in his naked lap. She might’ve given him a second chance if they only had more time.
She instead placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear, her voice laced with a false conviction she had never practiced before.
“Don’t ever fuck your girlfriend like that. She doesn’t deserve it.”
She reached over to grab her phone and clipped it back on her waistband before she parted ways with him, leaving him to interpret her words however he wished.
She walked in the direction he came from, her back turned to his, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she pondered how long it would take him before he collected himself.
Just as she was about to set foot out from under the shelter, she happened to look down and see something half-buried in the mud, its rounded corner less than an inch away from the concrete edge. She reached down to pick it up, quickly recognizing it as a phone once the entirety of its shape came into view.
She shook the clumps of dirt off and pressed the button to turn it on. The screen lit up with 9+ messages from someone named Melissa.
“Where are you?”
“Are you okay?”
“Please answer me.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“I told you it wasn’t a good idea to go out there.”
“Why won’t you answer me?”
Hector. She did the same thing to Hector once when his boss tasked him with chasing down a tornado. The difference was, she didn’t cheat on him.
She looked over her shoulder in time to see Todd rise to his feet, his back still turned to her, her gaze drawn to his ass before he pulled his shorts back up. She set the phone down on the table in front of her and walked all the way back to her apartment. The open air tasted fresh and damp, like it had been washed clean from a layer of dirt and grime that had accumulated for far too long. Maybe she would’ve felt the same way if she set foot out from under her shelter before the storm passed.
Morgan opened her eyes to the electronic chirping of her alarm clock the next morning. She turned it off and looked at the time with a heavy sigh, unsure if she should be happy or depressed that it marked the end of her vacation.
She rolled over on her side and rubbed her legs together. Then she moaned. She was still horny after her marathon last night. Her partner was the long black dildo standing proud on her nightstand, held in place by the suction cup at the base. It still reeked of her scent. She passed out from exhaustion before she had a chance to clean it.
She knocked it over when she reached for her glasses and cursed under her breath, climbing out of bed and picking the thing off the ground to take it to the bathroom with her along with her phone, checking it on the way as she walked on the balls of her bare feet, her white cotton negligee draping over her naked bottom half. No missed calls, no new messages.
She intended to wash the dildo in the sink, but she figured the shower was just as good. Water was water, after all. So she stuck it to the wall, turned the hot water on, and stripped herself naked as she waited for it to steam. Then she stepped inside, closed the curtain, and braced as she bent over, inviting the dildo to take her from behind. If only it had hips to thrust and hands to grab hold of her. She made do regardless, reaching behind her to hold it steady and pushing herself back until she felt it penetrate. It was as thick as Hector and as long as Todd.
The water droplets sizzled against her skin as she moved her hips just right, feeling it deep inside her in a way she couldn’t last night. She closed her eyes and pictured herself out on a run, lost in the woods, braced against a tree with her leggings pulled down to her knees. A man was fucking her; perhaps a tall man with a strong grip and a British accent, or a black man with a powerful cock and powerful hips to back it up. They both made her feel small, helpless, completely at their mercy. They praised her for how tight her pussy was and refused to pull out even when she begged them to. The British man leaned over and whispered a secret in her ear, telling her it was tighter than his wife’s, telling her he never wanted to go back to her after getting a taste of what a real woman felt like. That made her come. Hard.
She soaped her body, shampooed her hair, turned the water off, and stepped out to dry herself off. Her phone rang when she was in the middle of brushing her hair. It was Claire. She pressed the “ignore” button and kept brushing.
She was three minutes late to work. Her boss teased her about it.
“Well, looks like Miss Punctuality might be starting to slip up after a week to herself, huh?”
“It’s good to see you too, Jerry.”
Her coworkers were just as annoying and twice as nosy.
“How was your vacation? Did you go to that spa I mentioned? You look absolutely radiant.”
“Oh, honey. You met someone new, didn’t you? See? I told you it was just a matter of time, young, attractive woman like yourself.”
She gritted her teeth, sat at her desk, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and got to work, letting the monotony of office reports, cover sheets, and memos numb her thoughts like it had so many times before.
“You have to stand up for yourself, Morgan.”
“Stand up for myself?”
“Yeah. Don’t let those women walk over you like that. You’ve been working there longer than they have.”
“I know. It’s just, I don’t want to cause any trouble at work, you know?”
“I’m not telling you to take a swing at them or anything. Just let them know that what they say makes you uncomfortable.”
It was the first conversation Morgan had with Hector that made her heart race in a way she didn’t like. Her palms grew sweaty and her jaw clenched as she grew more and more anxious with each word he spoke.
“I can’t, Hector. I just can’t. You know I hate confrontation, I told you that.”
“Yes, you can, Morgan. I know you can. You can’t avoid it forever, and this would be a good place to start. If they have a problem with it, then they would be the ones causing the confrontation, not you.”
She folded her arms over her chest and looked away with a shake of her head, afraid that he was right more than anything.
“Look, you don’t have to be so stubborn about this. I just-”
“Stubborn?” It sounded like a curse word coming from his lips. He had never used that kind of language with her before. “You’re the one trying to talk me into doing something I’m not comfortable with.”
“Yes, for your own good.”
“For my own good.” She scoffed and turned her back to him, lowering her head and feeling small under his gaze.
It was just a fight. All couples had fights. But none of the fights she had with her partners ended in her favor. Many of them walked out on her when she shut down. She waited for Hector to do the same, holding back tears at the very thought of it. But he didn’t. He instead walked up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and brought his lips to her ear.
“Call me.”
“Hmm?” She tilted her head to the side and offered her neck to him, waiting to hear more.
“Call me when you stand up to them, and we’ll celebrate together.”
“At that cute little Italian place?”
He huffed a chuckle through his nose and pressed his lips against the base of her jawline, slipping his hands under her shirt to cup her breasts through her bra.
“Wherever you want.”
She leaned back against him with a soft moan, pressing her ass against his crotch. She could feel him getting hard, and her heart raced in a way she liked.
They ended up having sex in the kitchen, the shower, and the bedroom that night. It was the first time in her life anyone had ever given her an orgasm that made her scream.
Three days later, Hector’s boss sent him to chase after that tornado. He did it because the reporter usually in charge of such things was on vacation that day, and Hector had some experience putting himself in the face of danger for a good broadcast. He cracked a few jokes, provided some valuable insight into the forces of nature, and commented on the rarity of such an occurrence in a Metropolitan area. Then he texted Morgan after it was all over to let her know he would be coming home to her safe and sound.
A week after that, he got a call from another news station in another state offering him more money. They praised him for his broadcast and told him they’d do anything in their power to make him a part of their team.
“Let me bring my girl with me,” he said to them.
They didn’t refuse, but she did. She refused because she was afraid. She was afraid to leave her job, her home, her family. She made him choose so she didn’t have to. He chose his career, and she supported him without shedding a single tear. As she came to find out, he wasn’t as strong as she was.
She found herself alone in the breakroom when she took her lunch. She got a turkey and cheese sandwich and a bottle of water from the vending machines. The cheese had mold on it and the water was warm. Just as she was about to throw it all out, she heard the clack of high heels behind her, followed by a voice.
“So what’s his name?”
She looked over her shoulder to see Chelsea leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded over her chest, smacking a piece of gum between her teeth, her cherry lip gloss and short black curls giving the impression that she belonged more on a street corner than an office building. She reeked of cheap perfume, even from ten feet away.
“I’m sorry?”
“This new guy you’re glowing over, what’s his name?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes in response.
“Oh, come on, you can tell me. Bet he fucked you good, huh? Bet he made you forget all about what’s-his-face.”
“Hector.”
“Right, Hector. He hispanic?”
“Yeah.”
“You should get tested then. A lotta hispanic guys carry diseases, you know.”
“No, not him.”
“Yes, him. I mean, maybe. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”
Morgan didn’t say a single word in response. Not yet. Instead, she rose to her feet, collected her trash, and walked over to the garbage can next to Chelsea to throw it away, glaring in her direction with each step. Then she spoke.
“If I ever hear you talk about Hector that way again, I’m telling Jerry about what you and Matt did in the filing room last week.”
Chelsea’s mouth dropped open, and all she could do was gasp in shock. Morgan wondered if it was the same face she made when she came, and the thought of it made her sick to her stomach.
She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she bought a fresh lunch and brought it out to her car, feeling both proud and afraid at the same time; too afraid to go back in the building and face the consequences of her actions until she had to. Thoughts of Hector eased her mind, and she imagined what he might’ve said to her if she ever got the chance to tell him she stood up for herself. Then she cursed when she realized she spilled a glob of mayonnaise on her blouse, opening the glove compartment and reaching inside for a napkin.
“Clumsiness is a trait,” he said to her on their first date. “Not a flaw.”
It was her first time seeing him in person. She was so taken aback by his charm and good looks that she tripped over her own shoes and knocked a plate of spaghetti on the ground when she threw her hands out to catch herself.
“Don’t ever confuse the two, and don’t let anyone do it for you.”
His words fell on deaf ears at the time. Her heart was racing too fast, her hands were shaking, and her eyes couldn’t look away from his.
Now she could hear his voice like he was sitting right next to her, and she decided that wanted to hear it for real before her break was over. She took her phone out of her pocket, navigated her way to the number pad, and punched in each digit of his phone number with her thumb. Then she pressed the “call” button and waited for him to pick up, her heart racing in a way she liked.
