Chapter One
Tanner
“Ass up, face down.”
My order is clear as I press Bella’s head against the cushion of the couch before putting on my favorite reruns. With my dick out, sheathed in a condom, I watch the screen in front of me and position my cock at Stella’s pussy entrance. Or is it just plain Ella? Who the fuck knows?
It’s not a television show or a movie that has my undivided attention, it’s a surveillance tape. One I’ve watched over and over, and I still get hard as a rock when I see those legs spread open and her pink vibrator slide into her cunt.
“Fuck me, Tanner!” The woman, whose name eludes me, is trying to be sexy but her begging is only pulling me out of the zone. I told her when she sidled up to me at the downtown country bar a couple of hours ago that I just needed to get my dick wet. The rest—her hopes, her dreams, her name—didn’t interest me in the least.
I guess she’s already got amnesia and I haven’t even rammed her tonsils yet.
“Shut the fuck up.” She does what she’s told just before I slam my dick inside her wet pussy and fuck her to the rhythm of the pink dildo on the screen. The audio is muted, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve replayed the tape often enough that I’ve memorized every moan and every grunt.
Both of my hands are on Country Bar’s hips at my groin, fingers indenting the flesh as I keep pace with the dildo.
Thrust.
Thrust.
Hold. Grind.
Thrust. Thrust.
Hold. Grind.
As the blonde on the screen slides her fingers over her clit, I mimic the act on the—fuck, what color hair does this chick have?
I hate that I have to take my eyes off the screen, knowing damn well she’s about to buck up and take the dildo even deeper, but I’m quick, and it turns out the woman below has auburn hair and that’s just fine. It doesn’t matter who I’m fucking, the only way for me to bust a satisfying nut is to imagine it’sher.
I look away for only a split second before my eyes are back on the screen, my body pretending I’m the one fucking the blonde. I’m the one pressing the pad of my thumb against her clit and making her work for her orgasm. I’m the one ripping those antagonizing sounds of pleasure from her throat.
Changing it up, I slap the redhead’s ass, leaving a hand print just where the ass meets the thigh. My dick jolts with the action, almost making me groan. Bella or Stella or whoever the fuck, is beautiful and sexy in her own right, but she’ll never compare to the woman on the screen. She’ll never hold a candle to the blonde with skin so fair and soft it makes me want to leave an array of scars all over her body just so we can match. So we’re the least bit compatible.
Like we used to be.
On the screen, the blonde turns over, propping her ass up in the air as she fucks herself in earnest. Her spine rolls into a perfect arch, like a wave cresting seconds before crashing on the shore, her chin-length hair falling forward across her cheek bones. One hand is busy reaching for an orgasm while the other is fisting her cream-colored sheets with the strength of a thousand warriors.
Fuck, I’m so close becauseshe’sso close.
Pulling the woman beneath me up higher so I can get a better angle, I start pumping my hips harder and faster. Skin slapping skin, gasps clashing with grunts, I clench my jaw as the blonde stills, grinding her cunt against her mattress and letting herself go.
I know she’s mewling, her high pitched cry of satisfaction has been imprinted into my brain. Except the redhead below me is ruining the moment with her own, long-winded groan. No worries, though. I’m done anyway.
I come, a temporary fix to a permanent problem. Careful not to release or break the condom, I pull out slowly, seconds after emptying out my balls inside the latex glove. Because I’m not a complete fucking psycho—although my shrinks would beg to differ—I pat Ella? Nella? on the ass in a silent thanks of sorts.
Okay, I’m an asshole, but these are awkward moments between two people just trying to get off.
“Um…you’re welcome?”
I’m getting a vibe that says she’s none too happy about my social skills. She’s lucky I haven’t thrown her out of the house yet. I figure she needs to take a piss and maybe have a glass of water or some shit.
“The bathroom is down the hall, first door on the left. Don’t fucking snoop around.” I don’t raise my voice. The permanent scowl on my face usually does the trick of keeping people aroundme obedient. Though, it’s not the only tool at my disposal; I can be a charming fucker when it benefits me.
“Don’t worry, I’m not that desperate.” She throws her bratty response over her shoulder as she adjusts her dress, and I’m eager to see her leave out the front door. For good.
I don’t know why I do this. Picking up random women for a subpar fuck is getting old, especially knowing the surveillance tapes work just as well with my own hand.
