All the good stuff

“Be fucking for real right now!” you shout as Jamie passes you heading straight into the bathroom to shower. You waited up and it’s three in the morning, his new normal as of late. Anger burns through your body, you're like dynamite liable to blow any moment now. The bathroom door still hasn't closed all the way meaning Jamie is contemplating his next move. “I’m right here you come in you greet me, we speak, you don't pass me after being MIA all week” you continue from where you are in the living room. It's moments before you hear movement. Jamie stands in front of you still in his coat that reeks of weed, probably to mask the perfume of the other women.

“You have to shout and curse me out for wanting to shower?” he asks, looking at you with contempt.

“I have a lot to shout about Jamie”

“Oh yeah? Like what is this place too comfortable for you Y/N ? Is not working too difficult for you? Did you have a hard time choosing your next hairstyle or nails?” he shouts back.

“Fuck you Jamie, go on shower wash off whatever skank you’ve been fooling around with. I don’t care anymore, I won't wait up either and when they DM me I won't lose sleep over it” you shrug so hot your anger’s flame is now blue. Jamie's facade cracks for a moment before he sighs looking bored by the accusations of his infidelity.

“Aint no women to wash off because there ain't no other women, one headache is enough” he says using his charm but it's no use, womens intuition is never wrong. Jamie’s been fooling around. “You don’t believe me?” he sighs.

“No, I don't believe you, knowing you and who you are she has to have you pretty pussywhipped to have the balls to come at me and not fear for her life. Well I hope the cunt was worth it” you mutter.

“Are you hearing yourself?” Jamie snaps. “You’re going to leave me for something that never happened?”

“No I’m gonna leave you because on top of being a piece of shit coward you are also lying straight to my face” you snap back.

“I have nothing to lie about, I’ve been working. I ain't been hope in almost a day and I want to wash up” he shouts.

“Whatever Jamie” you smile out of anger, frustration and irritation at his audacity.

“What’s funny?” he asks, weary of your amusement.

“You’ll see” you warn, getting up from the couch and heading into the bedroom.

“I’ll see what?” he questions. “Y/N I havent fucked anyone!” he snaps committing to the lie.

“Pull down your pants then, let me give you a blowjob” you say wanting to inspect the appendage yourself.

“I told you I need to wash up” he says as an excuse instead of inviting you into the shower like any other sane man would with a blowjob on the table.

“That’s never stopped us before,” you remind him.

“Y/N” he says in a judgemental tone.

“If you're innocent pull down your pants and let me smell your dick” you shrug and shock covers his face before he smiles folding his arms.

“What?”

“Jamie you heard me” you say maintaining eye contact.

“I’m not gonna do that, you're not a dog and I'm innocent. You’ve probably had too fucking much to drink or youre going mad.” he says heading into the shower and locking the door. You swallow at wits end, in your heart you don't want to leave him but deep down you know there's no forward motion without getting even.

Sure Jamie’s been good to you, he’s a provider and protector but cheating and lying are hallmarks of a weak man. Scrolling through your DM’s you delete the intimate photo of Jamie sleeping on her topless chest. Fuelled by anger you find the blue check mark, the famous footballer that's been after you for months. He's in town. He doesn't fool around and responds instantly. Two can play at Jamie's game. If he thinks you're here for his provision and not him then he’s in for a rude awakening, many men would love to be in his position. Jamie’s young and he's been through a lot fucking around can be excuseable but not lying, not both offenses together.

The bathroom door opens when you're finished packing your bags. Jamie comes out in boxers stunned. He had been going over excuses and deflections preparing for another round and not your retreat.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“I’m gonna go stay with my sister, you can call up that bitch and have her sitting up here looking dumb while you cheat and lie about it. I’m too good a woman, too young and too fine to be sitting in this penthouse waiting for you to come home Jamie” you scoff.

“You're gonna go stay with your sister who’s married with kids” he asks.

“Yeah so have fun” you nod.

“You’ll be back, you like your space too much” he says getting on a shirt and helping you wheel your cases out. The bastard is too good under pressure. If you didn't know him as well as you do you’d believe his innocence. “Don’t be gone too long I’ll miss your madness” he says in the elevator.

“I knew you’d take our breakup well” you smile.

“Break up?” he asks in amusement.

“Yep” you nod heading to your car. Jamie lifts your bags in the boot like a parent indulging a tantrum but the joke is on him. There's no use in tears, especially when they won't make him lose it nearly as much sleep as your next move. You get in the car and Jamie shuts the door. You roll down the window just a tad after starting the car, he stands there and you wish things were different. But he has to sweat and work his way back into your good graces.

“Glad I could provide you with some excitement tonight” he says, egging on the situation. His tone is patronizing and condescending.

“I love you Jamie but you're boring, you're a stereotype now. Maybe I’d be crying if you were still the unique man I fell for but you're not so this doesn't hurt as much as it should.” You spit venom and it stifles his gaslighting. His nostrils flare. “Getting over you shouldn't be too hard.”

“You’re crazy if you think someone is gonna out do me in any way” he snaps with well placed confidence.

“I know but if I fuck that footballer that all your friends rave about it’ll hurt your pride and humiliate you and thats enough for me” you smile as his features harden. You pull out the lot with a laugh and before you can even put your head down on the hotel pillow you get a call from your sister claiming Jamie’s outside promising to wake up the neighbourhood.

You knew OJ as the type to not say much. He couldn’t utter a word when he first saw you at a county fair almost a year ago. So caught up in your beauty and bosom sitting pretty in a yellow mini dress and Doc Martens, his grip loosened on the reins holding onto his favorite horse, Lucky. Lucky found his way to you, nuzzling its nose against your cheek. OJ gave his apologies through almost downtrodden eyes but they met yours at some point to give you a chance to look at him. 

“Lucky don’t take a liking to most people.”

OJ knew instantly that you weren’t just anybody. So did his sister, Em, whose own sapphic desires took some things into consideration for her damn self. But she wasn’t going to let her brother slide out of this one.  A smooth talker, she ran you down after the brief encounter with Lucky to grab your email for “business opportunities”. You knew she was running shotgun for her big brother, so you obliged. Days later, you received a message from OJ.  

He’d email you every morning after he fed the horses. After asking to FaceTime, he told you about his propensity for flip phones over the smart ones. He could Zoom though. When you connected, all he could do was stare at you.He failed to form the words to speak. In emails, he opened up about life on the farm and inside of the old house given to him and his sister by their  father. Em had no desire to run anything but the streets so the “horse business”  was left all to him. In short, things got lonely and talking to horses was all he had – until he found you. 

After months of laptop camera staring contests and post-session emails full of pining, with soft eyes and an even softer voice, he asked you to come visit him. 

Do I make you nervous, OJ? Don’t be… 

He loved it when you would model your favorite night time wear for him over Zoom, turning around to show your ass peeking under a T-shirt or a slip. One night, with a torrential downpour showering Agua Dulce, OJ couldn’t let the night time routine slip when he noticed something light blue laying on top of your bed. 

“What’s the blue thing back there?”

You wanted to sex OJ badly. He’d write in so many words about his dreams and desires to make love to you to the point of tears. For someone so quiet, so many wants and needs had to be told: I can’t wait to fall asleep next to you. I bet your skin is so damn soft. I dreamt of you on top of me last night. I really wanna make you cum. I can’t wait for you to get here. 

Here was weeks away. You wanted for OJ to get a preview. 

“You wanna see me play with it?” 

All OJ could do is nod like always. 

You placed your laptop at the end of your bed, making sure that you didn’t lose OJ in the process. Crawling to the top of your bed, you spread your legs for OJ to see you thrust your light blue vibrator inside of you. You take it from your insides onto your clit and back again, the vein-like ridges causing a massive sensation against you. Something about OJ watching you makes you turn the dial to the maximum. Toying with your left nipple piercing as your vibrator dances against your swollen clit, you came hard as OJ did too, embarrassed by the mess he made. 

But the image of you fucking yourself was now seared onto his memory. 

You won’t hurt me, my love.

OJ slowly drags the toy in and out of your pussy. Through fogging glasses, you watch him study the way your mess pools at the base. It starts to drip down onto his hand, the slick fucking with his grip. Like a sponge rung out after a sink load of dishes, the wetness he’s creating starts to drench his sheets. He didn’t think a thunderstorm like this was possible.  

He can’t talk. All he can do is bite down on his lower lip and moan softly in-between your swear words. You just want one little fuck, one quiet little shit, to escape his mouth. You two are in the middle of nowhere – can’t nobody hear him. You just want to hear his voice at full tilt, not just the whistle sounds he makes to gather up his horses. He has permission to yell all he wants to. 

You like what you see? All OJ can do is nod. His left hand grabs onto your right hip for leverage. He wants to feel your pelvis vibrate because of his touch. He doesn’t know what to do next. Back and forth, in and out. A long drag to witness your toy catch a mean glaze. A slow insertion to hear you moan for him to take it deeper. This intense stare as if your pussy is going to run away from him. 

Speaking of staring, you had no idea that hard-ons could show through Levi’s but his rock isn’t shy anymore. His horse was to stay in its stable tonight but now you want to ride it. Or put it in your mouth. You just want it. But OJ’s desire was to reenact one of his fantasies: to make you orgasm so hard that your hips fall out of their sockets. He bought this toy so he could try it on you. Similar to the one that he saw you take yourself to pound town with that one that night weeks before until you were able to come visit him on the farm. 

So he knows that it vibrates. And he witnessed you pull it out and tap it on your clit until your lower body bounced uncontrollably on the bed. 

He runs the vibrator up and down between your folds. The tip grazes your clit with every pass, elongating the torture with every downstroke taking the pressure away from the build. OJ didn’t know he was edging you but alas, he’s figuring it out. OJ, pleaseeee … let me c-cumm-mm. He wants to help you do just that, slipping two fingers inside that get clenched within seconds. Marveling at how wet you are, how warm it feels inside of you, his dick jumps at the thought of copping a feel. 

The rounded tip of your toy meets the bottom of your clit and you meet heaven. Your tongue starts to flick rapidly inside of your mouth as you moan out expletives and incoherencies. Shivers travel from the roots of the braids to the bottoms of your feet. You’re so pretty when you fucking cum…

OJ talking you through your peak unleashes an extra helping of orgasm you didn’t know you had. This is when he chooses to start talking?! 

OJ slowly pulls out his middle and ring finger and slips them into your mouth. You moan as you suck off your accomplishments, looking up at him as you do so. A fire lights inside of him. He wants to taste you so bad, it hurts. He meets your lips with his, both of your tongues trying to lasso each other down. 

Fuck me, OJ. Please. 

Those jeans hit the floor quicker than a lighting strike. His boxers barely make it down before the condom gets rolled down onto his dick. He crawls in between your thighs and slides into you. This bed, as old as this house, creaks loudly as the headboard crash lands into the wall. There’s something wild about his strokes, something uncharacteristic about his pace. Slow but powerful, his hips grind into your pussy,  causing your body to inch even more closer to the top of the bed. The one thing that’s been avoiding you is starting to happen: A California-by-way- of- South Texas drawl peeks through his shyness. Ohh-h. Fuck. You feel so fucking good. Fucking wet-ass pussy. Damn. 

You wrap your legs around OJ’s waist. He can’t run from the grind. The sweat between your bodies gets colder. An upper body strength you knew he had lifts himself up. Your legs unlock so OJ can put them on his shoulders. Your left ankle almost touches an earlobe. He pounds into you, gentle yet commanding. His eyes meet yours, the grunts at the base of his throat scream to be let out of the pen. Shit, shit, shit!  Fuck, I’m…