“You’re not serious?” she’d asked.
“I’m serious about the fact that I’m gonna gag you if you don’t quit talking back.”
So, she’d shown up at his house dressed like a porno housekeeper, and they’d stuck to their characters all night. Toby had ordered her around while she nodded shyly and agreed first to give him a massage and then to lick the head of his cock while he jerked off. When he was done coming in her mouth, Toby had wiped himself on her cheeks, and since he was still hard, he’d pushed her onto the floor and fucked her.
It had been world-endingly good. They’d both gotten tested, so it was off to the races, semen-wise. That had been her request. She’d never been a ‘creampie’ gal, but she’d been dying to feel Toby dripping down her thighs, and it made the roleplay even more authentic, not having to stop for condoms.
It had meant a cringe-inducing ‘I’m not seeing anyone else right now, how about you?’ conversation, but she’d already known Toby wasn’t hooking up with other girls. The motherfucker didn’t have time. His tattoo was long finished, but there was never a question of ending their fuckbuddy status. Almost every afternoon, she found herself sneaking over to his place. She’d even started staying the night, sleeping in Toby’s massive bed with Mopsy at her feet. It wasn’t something she’d anticipated doing, but after four hours of sex, pizza, and more sex, it was impossible not to pass out in Toby’s arms. And he seemed more than happy to have her there, even if it did raise questions about their… situation.
No matter how you spun it, she and Toby weren’t actually dating. She’d met none of his friends, and all of hers had either forgotten he existed or remembered only ‘that tall dog guy who used to be around.’ But they were monogamous, and their post-sex conversations were getting kind of intimate. She hadn’t told him about Jo, but he knew about Nix’s struggle to stay pregnant and the shit inferno that was Sparkling Whine, and he’d talked to her about earning all his money in a dodgy crypto deal after his parents left for the Philippines.
“Holy shit,” she’d said, too shocked to make fun of him. “You’re, like, the only real-life person to make money from cryptocurrency.”
“Hey now,” he’d said, all mock offended. “There are at least four of us. We’re in a group chat called ‘Is This A Crime?’”
It was so nice having someone to talk to and fuck and laugh with. But it was also totally contained to that one area of her life. For his part, Toby hadn’t mentioned ‘where she saw this going’ or brought up the dreaded ‘C-word’ AKA ‘Commitment.’ And since no one knew they were hooking up, it was easy for her to avoid the relationship conversation, too. Personally, she was refusing to think more than five hours ahead about anything. Between Toby turning out to be a sex wizard, Jo sending more flowers addressed just to her, Sam’s fury and Nix desperately trying to contact their mother, any mention of the future gave her heart palpitations.
She’d shelved her plans to move to Cartagena because sleeping with Toby was so much fun, and considering the current state of her life, Tabby felt she deserved a little fun before she ran away forever.
She wasn’t an idiot. She knew it couldn’t last, but she also didn’t see why she should do anything to fix that.
I refuse to be the bigger person, she told herself whenever she felt guilty,as is my right as a half-baked baby woman.
A hollow thump below her window brought her back to the here and now. This time, she knew it was for real. Someone, hopefully Toby, was climbing the tree that led directly to her bedroom. Shivering, she pulled her duvet to her chin as the windowpane slid open, and a man’s weight landed on her carpeted floor. She listened, quivering with anticipation as Toby removed whatever shoes he’d worn.
Something stirred in her memory, and she realised he’d only been here once before. That first time they’d hooked up after the party.
Don’t think about that.No past. No future. Just now.
“Hey, girl.” Heavy hands landed on her body. “Miss me?”
Toby's breath was hot with whiskey.
“Jesus!” she gasped in a passable impression of surprise. “Toby? What are you doing here?”
“I wanna make those big tits bounce. All I can fucking think about.” He slid his hands under the covers. “Spread your legs for me.”
Tabby parted her thighs, but Toby’s palms found her tits first, massaging them through her silk slip. His fingers were freezing, but it was his casual disdain that made her shiver.
“Nice,” he said, flicking her right nipple. “You wear this for Fuckhead?”
“No,” Tabby whispered.
‘Fuckhead’ was Toby’s name for Conor, who was still very much getting fake-cucked in their minds.
“Course you didn’t.” He shoved the slip’s triangles down, his finger and thumb biting into her nipple. “You wore it for me, didn’t you? Hoping I’d come around and smash you like he can’t?”
God, but did she love fake-cucking Conor… “Toby, you can’t do this! This is our house. He’s in the other room!”
“Fuck him.” One of Toby’s hands moved down her stomach, his cold fingers sliding between her legs. “You’re wet. Been thinking ’bout me?”
Always.“Yes.”
“Then you should be happy I’m here.” He shoved back the covers and lowered his mouth to her pussy, licking her clit sideways. Tabby pressed her pillow to her face to muffle her screams as he lapped at her from the wrong angle. It felt strange, but good strange. The same song remixed by a master. Unlike his hands, Toby’s tongue was warm as blood. The alcohol in his mouth transferred to her soaking lips, making them tingle. Or maybe that was her imagination. Her clit had been swollen and pulsing with eagerness all day, and as Toby’s lips closed around it, sucking lightly, she came, her legs going stiff as she sank her teeth into her pillowcase.
“I’m gonna give you a nickname,” Toby said as she writhed in her sheets. “‘The Fountain.’”
Tabby shoved the pillow off her face and glared at him. “You can’t keep treating me like this!”
