Lying in bed Saturday morning, the only thing she could think about was work the day before. Or rather, play.
It still felt so wrong to say, even in her head. Sex. With a man. Her boss. The same man her father had counted as a friend for the last few years.
How could she have agreed to that?
The intimate pictures he’d claimed to have of her and Angie’s tryst. The blackmail.
No, that wasn’t it. He was right. She’d been stealing glances at him for years.
Looking at him didn’t mean she wasn’t a lesbian. After all, even straight men commented on the beauty of Michelangelo’s David.
But she’d had sex with him.
Sighing, Sarie slipped her thumb into her pink pajama shorts and slid it back and forth under the elastic.
Sex with Mr. Downey was amazing. It was wrong, on so many levels, but nothing could have felt more right. Nothing could have made her feel more alive. More sexy.
More straight.
She sat up, blinking her green eyes.
No way could she be straight. Not after dating Melinda for two years. After loving her for so long. She’d still be with her if Melinda hadn’t moved so far away to go to college.
As Sarie combed her hand through her wavy blonde hair, a glint of gold caught her eye. The cross necklace on her nightstand.
Tomorrow she’d have to go to church with her family. With Mr. Downey.
Nathan.
She closed her eyes and the memory came back to her. The conference room at work the day before. His body, so close it had brushed hers. His lips next to her ear. “We both know how wet you were for me,” his husky voice had said.
He was so right. Her thighs had been flooded, from the moment he’d spoken about being inside of her. It had only gotten worse, as she held his dick in her nimble hand. When it went over her tongue and hit her throat. Then he’d gone down on her, made her taste herself on his fingers...
Between her legs, her pussy pulsed. She squeezed her legs together and bit her lip. Let out a shaky breath.
Her phone. His video. She’d tried to contest how much she’d liked having sex with him, but he wouldn’t hear it.
“The next time you try to deny it, pull up your videos on your phone,” he’d said in her ear at the door. “Watch how your sweet cunt drools for my big cock before I give it to you for the first time. Listen to yourself beg me to give it to you deeper. Watch it over and over until you realize what you want.” He’d tugged her hand to the front of his pants, slid her fingers down his new erection, and told her he’d be waiting for her.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Aching, her fingers brushed her clit and rubbed harder through the flimsy fabric of her shorts, her hips writhing. Her free hand came up under her full breast and squeezed it like he had, almost to the point of pain. Then she pinched her nipple. Moaned.
Her finger moved faster between her legs, rubbing her clit even as her own wetness seeped through the shorts.
“Oh...”
The pleasure between her legs heightened. Her finger pushed forward. More. Then her room exploded in white. She stopped breathing. Her body arched. Legs kicking, eyes scrunched tight, she jolted with orgasm all the way to her toes.
Sarie tried to catch her breath as her orgasm dropped off. Her short exhales billowed off her pillow, brushing back into her face. The crotch of her shorts was soaked, her skin glistening with the finest sheen of sweat.
She withdrew her hand from between her legs. Rolled over on her back and opened up her eyes. Stared at the ceiling until the popcorn surface came into focus.
Bisexual. There was no denying it now. Just thinking about him turned her on. She couldn’t keep her hands off her pussy. Couldn’t keep her panties dry.
God, what would Melinda say? Angie? The disgust they’d displayed sexually for men wasn’t one she’d ever shared. She’d just been indifferent.
It wasn’t as if she had to tell them. Or anyone. But more secrets? Wasn’t it enough to keep her sexuality from her parents, her church, and all the people she’d known her whole life?
Sarie sighed. She turned her head to the nightstand, where her phone was charging. The same phone he’d held as he’d taken the video.
Her post orgasm pussy woke up.
Rolling over, she took the phone off the nightstand and unhooked the charger. It lit up in her hands, revealing a picture from her and Melinda’s last vacation in the Bahamas.
She licked her lips and tapped her finger pad to the screen, pulling up the video application. The first option to view was a still from yesterday. A hand. A penis.
Sarie tapped it and the image filled the phone. Feeling her heart beat faster, she hit play.
“You’ll love this, sweetheart,” Mr. Downey’s deep voice said from the phone.
The video wavered over her slim body before concentrating on her pussy. Her lips and thighs had glistened even in the darkened conference room. The huge head of his dick appeared, his big hand pumping the thick shaft. He moved in, lining up his blunt tip with her sodden opening. Spreading her open. Then his domed head disappeared inside her.
Feeling her pussy gush inside her already wet panties, she stripped off her shorts.
“Fuck. You feel so good, Sarie. So warm and wet.”
Sarie yanked her tank top over her head. She gripped the phone with one hand, rubbed her slick clit with the other.
His fingers gripped her hip as more of his dick disappeared inside her.
She remembered that. Every moment of the agonizingly slow first thrust. How she didn’t know how much more she could take. Feeling every inch of his cock as it pushed forward.
Her squeal came from the phone, followed by a shake of the camera.
“Quiet,” he ordered.
She wanted to feel it now. Her finger slipped from her clit and traced her pussy lips.
“It hurts. You’re so...wide.”
“Oh? Tell me how it feels.”
That moment. When she realized what he wanted to hear. Not a one word answer. A description. Explicit.
On the phone screen, his dick inched forward, half in.
The ache to be filled was too much. Joining her first two fingers, she penetrated herself.
Sarie moaned even as she heard herself gasp from the phone. “I didn’t know I was that deep,” she heard herself say.
Mr. Downey let out a breath, pulled back his cock. Slimy from her pussy. Hard. He was so wide, she could see her pussy still gripping him as he pulled away.
“You’re so warm. How can I feel your warmth so far inside of me?”
“God, yes, Sarie. Finally.” He thrust back, never giving her the whole thing. “How does it feel?”
“Hot. Huge. Like you’re splitting me in two. Except when you do that. Back and forth.”
“Yeah?” He panted. “You like that?”
“Deeper,” she moaned.
“Oh, now you want it deeper? How bad do you want it?”
“Please, Mr. Downey.”
More shallow thrusts. “Please what?”
“Please. Please.” The camera panned upward, her breasts undulating with his every movement inside her.
Her fingers shunted faster in and out of her sopping pussy.
The image went blurry then dark. The sound remained. Skin on skin. Lips on lips. Their shaky breaths.
“If you want something from me, make me fucking believe it.” His husky voice almost sent her over the edge.
Then the video and sound stopped.
“What? No!” She took her fingers out of her pussy, leaving it aching, to hold the cell with both hands.
Melinda’s face popped up on the screen, the phone belting out their song.
Sarie dropped it, her heart pounding, as Melinda’s hazel eyes staring up at her until the call was sent to voicemail. The screen went blank. Pussy juice smudged the side.
They hadn’t spoken in weeks. Not since Sarie had broken things off. Melinda was too busy with soccer and college. She lived on the opposite side of the state. They couldn’t continue. What did she want?
The phone blipped. A text. “I just pulled up in front of your house. Please talk to me.”
Melinda.
Sarie’s eyes widened. Wiping her hands on her discarded tank top, she picked up the cell.
“Just a minute,” she replied.
She put the phone down. Froze.
A minute? She needed an hour! A shower, make up, her hair done.
“God help me,” she whispered.
Jumping out of bed, she threw her pajamas in the hamper. Made sure to pull on matching bra and underwear. Jeans that hugged her ass. A tight, sleeveless black top. She pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail looked into the mirror.
There wasn’t time for make up. It was a shame. She hadn’t seen Melinda in weeks and now she had to see her like this.
She sighed and headed down the stairs. Opened the front door.
Dressed simply in a plaid button down shirt and jeans, her ex was beautiful. Dark, olive skin. A cute little dent in her chin. Bright hazel eyes. Long legs. Everything about her was posh Olympian beauty, the picture of youth, exuberance, and heart.
Melinda met her eyes. Her pale pink lips turned up slowly. “Hey Sarie.”
“Hi.” She hung on to the doorknob and bit her lip.
“Do you think I could come in and talk to you?”
Sarie’s mouth dropped open. She took a quick breath. “I don’t know.”
“Just to talk, babe. I know your parents aren’t here.” She tilted her head to the side. “And I know you don’t want to talk about this on your doorstep where your neighbors might hear.”
Swallowing, Sarie nodded. Stepped back and let her in.
“I miss you,” Melinda said when she shut the door.
She closed her eyes without facing her.
“Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have said that. But I do.”
She and Melinda had never broken up before. Theirs was Melinda’s second relationship, and Sarie’s first. Best friends before lovers, it had taken awhile for Sarie to realize that she loved her. As more than a friend. It took longer for her to decide that was okay. That it wasn’t too big a sin.
“Sarie? Will you turn around?”
Biting her lip, she looked into her ex’s eyes. “I miss you too.”
Melinda took a step toward her, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. She met her gaze, then looked down at her mouth. Cupping Sarie’s face in her hands, she bent forward and brushed her lips against hers.
Automatically, Sarie’s hands found Melinda’s waist. She leaned into the kiss, their tongues sliding together as she tugged the plaid shirt from her waistband.
“Oh God, baby. I knew you still loved me,” Melinda murmured.
Sarie’s hands paused at the underside of her breasts. Every part of her wanted to grab her them, to squeeze and pinch and suck her dark nipples. To throw open the button on her jeans and work her fingers underneath.
She pulled away, staring at the ground as she caught her breath. “This isn’t right.”
“Why?” Melinda kissed her forehead.
“I can’t....be with you if I can’t really be with you.” She looked up at her face, praying for her to understand.
Her dark eyebrows furrowed. “You broke it off. Not me.”
“I know.” Her ex’s pale pink lips were so distracting. “I had to. You don’t even live here anymore.”
Melinda’s breasts lifted as she took a deep breath. “That’s why I’m here, baby. Move in with me.”
Blinking, Sarie looked into her hazel eyes. For a moment she pictured herself waiting for Melinda to get home, having dinner on the table. Laughing together. Cheering her on at her games like she used to. Sleeping next to her every night.
“We’ve been together for two years. We love each other. Why not take the next step?”
Sarie shook her head. Looked at their intertwined hands. “You’ve got school. Soccer. Everything that comes with college. What would I do there? My life is here. My parents, my job...”
Mr. Downey. Why was she thinking about him right now?
“Is there someone else?”
“No.” She didn’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.
“Someone at work?”
Feeling like her heart would stop, Sarie met her gaze. “What are you talking about?”
“You used to talk about that girl Angie a lot. The lesbian.” Her voice lowered, lips pursed. “Are you interested in her?”
She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She couldn’t lie. Not when asked point blank. Not to Melinda.
Her ex shut her eyes. “You slept with her already, didn’t you?”
“I--it didn’t mean anything to me.”
“It always means something to you, Sarie.”
“With you,” Sarie murmured. “With you it always does.”
Melinda finally opened her eyes. “Was she the only one?”
Sarie couldn’t answer. All she could do was look at her. What would she say if she knew? If she told her that she was bisexual? She wouldn’t love her anymore. She’d never want to see her again.
“There’s more. How many?” Melinda yanked her hands away. “Did you break up with me just to become a whore?”
“No!” Sarie was horrified. “I am not a whore!”
“How many bitches did you bang then? How long did you know them? Two weeks, two minutes? How do you think your precious church is going to accept you when they find out you’re not only a dyke, but a whore?”
Open mouthed, Sarie stared at her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Who.” The word strangled in her throat. She cleared it. “Who are you?”
“Me? You’re the one who’s changing. I’m the same person I’ve always been. You know how many girls I’ve been with in the few weeks since we broke up? None. What’s your number, Sarie? How many have you been with? Four? Eight? Or can you remember?”
“One. Once.”
Technically, it was true.
Doubt registered on Melinda’s face. “One. I don’t believe you.”
Eyes watering, Sarie stepped back and fumbled for the doorknob before pulling it open. “Please leave.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Melinda’s voice softened. “I’m just jealous is all. I miss you.”
She shook her head without looking back at her. “I don’t want you in my house, Melinda.”
Her ex stared at her. “Sarie.”
She waited at the door. Finally, Melinda moved past her. Stepped over the threshold outside.
“Baby.” Melinda reached for her hand.
Sarie moved away from her grasp, looking straight into her hazel eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t believe me. Maybe I am a whore. I might even be bisexual. But I will never let you touch me again.”
Shutting the door on Melinda’s shocked face, Sarie tried to hold herself together. Her ex’s words echoed in her mind. Was she a whore? In the span of a weekend, she’d had sex with two people. Both genders. She’d almost seduced her ex girlfriend.
Whore. The word followed her all day, haunted her all night.
She didn’t sleep well.
At church the next morning, she and her parents sat in the fourth row. Mr. Downey sat next to her. His date next to him. Sarah.
The woman was leggy and gorgeous in a flower print dress. She looked like a mom from the ‘50s. Perfect hair. Perfect make up. Perfect man on her arm.
