I spasmed before he finished the sentence, as a powerful spurt of cum left my dick and flew high in the air. His dick exploded next, and then we were both shooting cum all over us… our hands, our pubes, our fucking chests. With our foreheadspressed together, we watched our hands move frantically, now slick with semen.
“Aaaaaaaah…”
“Ohhhhh…”
“Mmmmm…”
“Fuuuuckk…”
Our moans subsided as our movements slowed down, and nothing could be heard in the room but our ragged breathing. I stared at our cum-sprayed hands, still attached to our hard dicks, feeling dazed. My body was numb, my brain was fried, and I had no idea what had just happened.
“Fuck,” Adam murmured. “Fucking lemons.”
“Huh?” It was all I could muster.
He shook his head instead of replying and straightened up, reaching for his shirt. His bare chest was splashed with cum, his cheeks were rosy, and his hair tousled. His eyes landed everywhere but on me. He barely got one arm into a sleeve when he headed towards the door, still half-naked.
“I thought you were staying,” I said without thinking.
“Yeah, I just remembered I have to be somewhere.”
His tone was casual, but my bullshit sensors were on high alert. He was practically running to the door, barely dressed and without cleaning our spunk off him.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I blurted, only to hear the front door slam behind him.
Chapter 11
The Biggest Asshole in the World
Adam
What a fucking fuck-up. I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but this… this was unprecedented. It was so mind-boggling that I couldn’t explain it to myself, let alone to someone else.
I could vaguely remember sitting next to Jordan and my senses becoming heightened. His scent filled my nostrils, making my breathing quicken. His proximity unsettled me, and then his body heat engulfed me until I felt strangely hot. I got itchy, I got anxious, and I got fidgety. Jordan started showing me his scars, and his bare skin made me think of something I tried hard not to think about—our time in prison. It made me think of things that happened that should never have happened. It was when my descent into madness began. Somewhere along the way, I found myself kissing him without deciding to kiss him. After I began, I couldn’t stop. If you had put a noose around my neck, I wouldn’t have stopped.
Since I wasn’t gay, or even bi, I blamed it on Jordan. He pushed me into it, first by becoming my sleep token and then by kissing me after he got drunk. He let me sleep at his place when I expected him to refuse me. He made me hang out with him last night, confusing me even more. I came there to sleep, for fuck’s sake, not give him a fucking massage. I tried to rationalize it before I tried to forget it, but nothing worked.
After I came home, I took an hour-long shower that still couldn’t wash the scent of lemons off me. No wonder I ended up drinking and cursing myself for my stupidity. I could have been with Jordan, sleeping in his bed like a baby. Instead, because of my lapse in judgment, I was at home alone, sleepless,frustrated, and horny. I was wallowing in despair and perspiring from all the anxiety. Fucking blushing probably, but regretting? I couldn’t find an ounce of regret in me.
The only question remained… Now what? Should I pretend it never happened? Should I act as if it were a one-time good time between buddies? Or should I just quit? Leave this damn job and this damn town and just be done with it? If there were another option available to me, I couldn’t see it. Bottom line, I was desperate. And drunk. And clueless. It was past midnight when I reached for my phone, desperately needing to hear a friendly voice.
“Verna’s Psychic Retreat, Verna speaking.” The soothing female voice could be heard after the first ring. “What’s troubling your soul, traveler?”
“Vern, it’s me,” I said, rubbing the now-empty bottle of bourbon against my cheek.
“Adam, hun,” Verna whispered. “I’m in the middle of the session. I’m trying to communicate with a malevolent spirit, and it’s not going well. Are you okay?”
“I’m not okay, Vern. I’m not fucking okay.”
God, I felt so sorry for myself that it made me physically ill.
“What happened, hun?”
“I had sex with someone I shouldn’t have. Well, not sex exactly, but close enough.”
“Was it bad? You sound bad.”
“No, it wasn’t bad, Vern,” I whined. “It was fucking amazing, but it can’t happen again. I’m working with this person, and it’s the wrong fucking person.”
