Exrated

by Stevie J. Cole

“No, Heather, he works here. I just had to watch him plow thru two girls.” “Oh, you have gotta be shitting me!” She laughs so hard she snorts. “Your ex is a porn star? Only you, Jemma, only you!”

I wanted to make him regret it because as much as I hate it, as much as I don’t want to, I still have a thing for him. Always have. Always will. And now—he’s a fucking porn star. Brilliant!

I plop the pill in my mouth and swallow it without water. And since I can’t get my dick all the way hard because my ex-fucking-girlfriend is across the room and laughing, Hudson films a little girl on girl. Without warning, my dick gets so hard it feels like it’s going to split open, and not because of the girl on girl. Fuck Viagra is like giving your dick steroids.

Hudson catches sight of my raging hard-on. “Fuck yes. He’s back. Okay, so just start off like you’ve been at it for a while. Jemma, mist him would you? He needs to look sweaty.” Jemma trots over with a smirk, holds a spray bottle out in front of her and squirts me right in the fucking face like I’m a damn cat. Three squirts. And I flinch every single time.

I lean over the bed, spreading Vee’s legs apart. And I swear to you, I couldn’t enjoy this if I wanted to. Shame. That is exactly what this is—shame.

A few minutes later, I glance to the side of the bar to find a group of girls gathered around that bartender. She has her phone in front of her face, and all the girls are smiling. “Hahaha, no way, they’re watching you fuck right now.” Jake points. “You’re a fucking cock star.” “Great.” I wipe my hand over my mouth and push back from the bar.

The longer I watch it, the sicker I feel. That guy was my boyfriend. That guy was my best friend. That guy—a long moan comes from the computer then Tyler groans. “You’re a dirty whore,” he says. And that guy’s not the Tyler I knew. That’s it. I have to walk out of the room.

The thing with Tyler is he’s not just a small part of my past, he is in every single memory I have of my life. I stop on one of my favorite pictures. One where we’d been at the lake all day doing absolutely nothing but having sex and lounging on the pier. At seventeen, it all seemed so simple. Life seemed so certain. I can still vividly recall the look in his eyes when he leaned over me, blocking the sun before he kissed me and whispered: “I mean, how many people get to spend their entire lives with the person they love? Not one memory of my life doesn’t include you and I don’t ever want to have one that won’t.”

I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, I swear. I just had to figure out how. Not the easiest thing to divulge. I didn’t mean to hurt you…again. And that makes nothing better because he knows he can hurt me. He believes he can still hurt me. And I wish he couldn’t.

Librarian? Antisocial.

Hey now!

What’s beyond amazing is that right now I am strutting up to a beautiful skyscraper in downtown LA and why? Oh, to go help my porn star, ex-boyfriend make a mold of his huge dick so thousands of women can shove a silicone replica of it up their vaginas.

In a matter of minutes, I am going to walk into the office of Dick Doubles and have to stand there with Tyler as he fills out paperwork to have his penis cloned. Fuck my life.

The door clicks shut. And now, here we are. Alone. In a room with a penis mold in my right hand. “So,” I say. “Let’s get this over with, I guess.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s fine. No big deal.” “Jemma, really,” he says, his voice soft. “Look at me.” I do and immediately wish I hadn’t because fuck me, he is breathtaking and it makes me feel like a stupid, weak bitch for wanting him. “Yep. Looking.”

His eyes narrow as he kicks his shoes off. When he pulls his shirt over his head, my gaze immediately goes to his broad chest. Now he’s unfastening his jeans and shoving both them and his boxers down. I swallow. He’s naked, and it’s just him and me and this dick mold in my hand. And this is awkward because I cannot stop my eyes from dragging over him. Damn, that body. When my gaze meets his, he’s smirking, his tongue flicking over that damn lip ring. “What?” I ask, almost sounding defensive. “You’re staring.” “You’re naked.” “I am.”

He laughs. My gaze remains trained on his face, but I can still see the movement of his arm. He’s fisting his cock right in front of me, I mean, he kind of has to, given the situation. Damn this is weird and awkward and hot, and I hate myself for thinking it’s hot. I fight to keep my eyes from straying down to his dick. I mean, really, really fight it.

I can’t help but laugh when I glance down at his crotch. His dick is crammed inside that tube white goop oozing over the edges.

I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t weird, and not even for the obvious reasons. It’s strange to have someone you were once so close to become a stranger, but that’s what we really are. This kind of awkwardness is the worst kind. This deep seated part of me wants everything to be the way it used to, but it can’t be.

I quickly look over at him, and he forces a smile. Fuck those dimples that just popped out. He pulls his phone from his pocket, and while he stares down at it, my attention remains on his face.

“The point is,” he says. “I’m not a whore, as contradicting as that sounds.” And as much as I want to believe that, I can’t.

Jemma sighs behind me, and I turn to look at her. The wind catches her dark hair and she swats it out of her face, swearing. Fuck, I want to kiss her. It’s weird actually wanting a girl. When you do what I do, it really doesn’t leave much room for desire.

I loved that girl right there so deep, so hard, and I had since the first time I saw her. I can’t remember a time in my life I didn’t love her, and if I’m honest, I never really stopped. This is fucking dumb as shit. There’s no reason for us to be dicks about this.

Maybe it’s fucking stupid of me to think that anything can come from this. But I’m damn certain the possibility of something happening between us is much higher if she’s not watching me ram my dick up pussies all day long. Since I’m not about to give up my job for something that may or may not happen, it’s the next best thing. Out of sight. Out of mind.

“Titch, it’s just different. It’s work. I get paid for it. There’s nothing to it.” He exhales before glancing over at me. “Look, when we ran into each other and ended up having sex—that happened, and I wanted it to. I wanted to fuck you, it’s all I could think about from the moment you got in that cab, and then once we started, I couldn’t get enough of you.” Pausing, he gently rubs his hand over my leg. “That was the kind of feeling that makes your eyes roll back in your head. It was organic. What I do at work, it’s just the mechanics. There is nothing there. At. All.”

“Just so you know, you’re the first person I’ve slept with outside of work since I started.” “Oh, God, is that a compliment or what?” “Definite compliment.”

“Hmph…” He takes a seat on the far end of the couch, then smiles at me. My gaze falls to his mouth as he bites down on his lip. Why is that piercing so sexy? Jesus. Tyler rubs his hands down the legs of his worn jeans. “So,” he says, “what do you wanna do?” “Tyler…” “Yeah.” He smirks. “What, titch?” “You said you just had to piss.” “I did.” “And?” He shrugs. “And I did, and now I’m sitting on your couch. Funny how that worked out, huh?”

“Even as a kid, I just wanted to be close to you, you know, there was always that what if that drove me to pick at you, to chase you, to love you harder, and then when we broke up, well, there was no more what if. At least not the kind of what if I wanted.” He glances up from his hands, his eyes soft. “I was stupid and hurt and angry at myself for moving.” “You had a scholarship.” I swallow because this is getting to me and I don’t want it to. “Yeah, but I had you.” He reaches out, trailing his hand down the side of my face, and out of instinct, I turn to his touch, my eyes closing. “Had I stayed, I would have kept you,” he says, and I pull in a hard breath. “I was jealous. I hated fighting with you all the time.”

If I kiss him there is no way it will stop there. I swallow, forcing my brain and vagina to have a very long conversation about why this is a bad idea.

My entire life was spent chasing that girl right there, why stop now? She's stubborn as shit, but the thing is, she's always been mine. Always has. Always will. Now, I just have to convince her of that.

Tyler bites down on his lip as he pushes a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “This is how it’s supposed to be with us.” He cups the back of my head in his hand. “Push and pull. You know that, titch.” Part of me knows he’s right. As much as I want to pretend, time did nothing to make me love him less. I watch his eyes slowly flick down to my lips, and I catch his Adam’s apple move as he swallows. The hustle and bustle of the bar around us fades into a faint hum. All I can focus on right now is him. On us. On how fucked up this is.

We sit in silence for a few moments. I stare at her, watching the street lights bounce off her high cheekbones. Jemma is stunning, and those obvious things, the beautiful things anyone in their right fucking mind couldn’t miss, of course, I love those, but it’s the other things, her little quirks, her flaws that make her who she—that’s what I can’t get over. There is something so deeply woven into her that I find irresistible. It’s the way she snorts when she fucking laughs. The way her eye twitches when she gets angry. That scar on her knee from where she fell off her bike when we were kids. Her confidence and insecurities. The way she makes me feel like nothing else in this world matters but her.

“I regret it,” I blurt out without realizing it. “What?” She looks at me. “You regret what?” “The past four years.” A soft smile tugs at her lips. Her gaze drops to her lap, and she begins fiddling with her purse. “All those years…” I pause because I’m drunk. She’s drunk. And drunk confessions can lead to some awkward moments once everyone’s sobered up, but I don’t fucking care. I just want to tell her. “All of those years of growing up together, I never missed anything, and now, I feel like I’ve missed everything because I have.”

She smiles and God, I want to fucking slam my mouth over hers right now. When the car rattles over a speed bump, I realize we’ve pulled up in front of her apartments. The brakes squeak as the cab rolls to a stop. She reaches for the door. I want to grab her and pin her down on the seat. I want to make her feel what she does to me. I want to show her why we shouldn’t have drifted apart. I want to fuck myself so deep inside of her that she can’t shake me from her thoughts.

My eyes stray over to my bedside table, stopping on the top drawer. I bite down on my lip then glance back at the screen. Shit. Reaching over to the table, I tell myself it’s normal to do this. It’s completely normal to watch porn and then feel this overwhelming urge to masturbate. That’s why people watch it—to get turned on. And what do you do when you get turned on? You spank one out. It’s just that, I’ve now got this dildo buried to the hilt, and tomorrow I’m going to be face to face with the guy whose dick has made me desperate to ram this piece of silicone inside me, and he’s my fucking ex.

Laughing, I stand and cross the room, and as I do, Jemma and her friend walk in from the foyer. Jemma’s in this short purple dress. A tight—skin-fucking-tight—purple dress. It clings to every goddamn curve, leaving just enough for me to imagine ripping it off of her before slamming her down on a bed. Fuck. Wanting her is about to kill me.

Her eyes lock with mine, and I immediately walk over to her like a sick fucking puppy. I could have any girl in this room…except this one. Except the one fucking woman I want.

The soft light from the pool casts a blue haze over her, and goddamn she looks like a goddess. My eyes drift over her body—over every fucking curve of that woman—until they reach her legs. All I can think about is tearing that dress off of her and fucking her senseless. I’m fucking tense. My pulse is thrumming in my neck. My skin heating. My dick is so damn hard it’s throbbing.

“You know we can’t be friends,” I say. I wet my lips with the edge of my tongue. “Because all I can think about when I’m around you is fucking you.” Her eyes widen as she drags in an uneven breath. “Tell me you don’t do the same thing,” I say. “Tyler, I—” “Look, stop. Fucking admit it.” “There’s nothing to admit.” My eyes lock on her red lips. “Bullshit. The way your breathing tells me you’re fucking turned on, and I bet if I were to run my finger over your pussy, it’d be soaking fucking wet.”

“The thing you forget, titch, I know you. I spent thirteen fucking years learning what you liked, what got to you. You say you don’t like it, but you fucking do. You like me, you just don’t like that I hurt you. You don’t like what I do for a living, but the thing is…logic rarely wins.” She keeps walking toward the door. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I don’t know what she likes any more. “Jemma,” I say, “wait.” She stops but doesn’t turn around. And at this moment, I realize how fucked I am. I’m still in love with her. I’m still in fucking love with her.

And before I can form words, his lips are on mine. Something inside tells me not to kiss him back, that this is bad. This is very, very bad, but don’t we all like to feel like a dirty little whore sometimes? His large hands cup my face, and the way he touches me—I can’t not kiss him. I tilt my head, parting my lips to allow his tongue to dip inside my mouth. His wet chest presses against mine, his hold on my face tightens and the kiss grows more desperate, needier.

When Tyler kisses me, I swear it’s as though the boundaries between our bodies melt away, and we become one person. It’s always been like that, and only with him. My very soul bleeds into his with this kiss, my body betrays me because as much as I want to say I don’t want him, he’s right. It’s a damn lie. His lips press over my throat and with each hard breath he releases, chill bumps race over my wet skin. Teeth rake over my neck, forcing a slutty moan from my lips as he glides his hands over the soaked material of my dress and groans. Before I know it, he’s ripped the straps down and is squeezing my exposed breasts while pressing his hard dick against me.

Fisting my hair, he kisses me with a refined brutality, in a way that would leave any woman weak and at his mercy. My hands fall beneath the water, rubbing over the defined ridges of his stomach on the way to the waist of his jeans. The whirring of the pool pump drowns out the noise from the party as Tyler walks us away from the lights of the house, wading deeper into the pool. His hand slides down the small of my back and across the top of my thigh, every last inch of my skin heating beneath his touch. His finger brushes the lace of my thong. Even in the water, I can feel how wet I am.

He teases my entrance. I grab his face to kiss him, but he turns his head, sucking one of my fingers into his warm mouth. And then, he sinks his finger inside me, my body involuntarily clenching around it. Tyler pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and bites down on it. Moaning, I push my hips against his hand. He slips another finger in up to his knuckles, resting his forehead against mine and staring into my eyes. He fucks me with his hand. Hard. Rough. Gentle. Slow. His thumb circling my clit the entire time. My body tenses, my back bows, and when I’m teetering on the brink of all that built up tension releasing. He stops moving. His lips lay next to my ear, his hot, uneven breathes fanning over my cooled skin. “Tell me you lied.” “Tyler!” I swat at his chest and water splashes up. “Tell me.” His thumb glides over my clit, causing my body to jerk. “Fine. Fuck. I lied.”

He shoves his fingers deeper inside me, bending them to rub over that one perfect spot. Then he stops again. “Tell me you missed this.” “Ugh.” I grit my teeth. “I missed it.” “And…” There he goes over my clit again, this time pinching it between his fingers and tugging on it. Fuck me. A moan slips from my lips. “Tell me you want me,” he says. “Goddamn it. I want you to get me off and stop with this bullshit.”

Laughing a deep, throaty laugh, he traces his tongue over the shell of my ear, and with just a few slight movements of his hand, my fingers are digging into his shoulders, my head falling back, and I’m moaning like a whore in heat. The moment I open my eyes I’m met with his intense stare. A slight smirk plays over his lips as he pulls his hand from the water and slips his fi...

Hands. Mouths. Teeth—we’re all over each other. And in a split second, his shirt’s over his head, my thong is floating in the water, and his pants are undone, hi...

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair’s matted to my head, my mascara’s all over the place, and my face is flushed. There is no coming back from this. And you want to know why? Because I fucking lied to myself. I told myself I could handle this. That it didn’t matter to me that he did porn because there would never be an “us” again when the truth is, when someone has meant as much to you as Tyler has, that idea of “us” never goes away.

Her eyes lock with mine and she sighs, her warm breath blowing over my hand. I keep my gaze trained on her as I slowly inch my face toward hers. “I never forgot this…” I whisper against her mouth before I kiss her. “Letting you go was a mistake. Everything since that day has been a mistake,” I whisper against her ear. “Don’t tell me that,” she says in a desperate tone. “Don’t…” “It was.”

A hard, sexy beat booms through the speakers and before I know what’s happening, Tyler’s standing between my legs. “What the hell are you doing,” I yell. “Proving my point,” he says, dropping his ass and falling between my thighs. I go rigid. Completely rigid as I stare down at his face. He slides up my body. I can feel every hard muscle under his shirt. Tyler grabs my hand, forcing my palm over his exposed lower stomach. I try to jerk it away from him, but all he does is smile and force it under the waist of his jeans.

Biting down on his bottom lip, he wraps his arms around me and jumps up, bringing me with him. My natural reaction is to wrap my legs around his waist because my body is a traitorous whore. His fingers splay across my lower back as he thrusts under me, basically fucking me through my clothes. I should hit him or something, cuss him out, but I can’t because fuck my life, this is too hot to actually force him off of me. I catch myself grinding my hips over him and stop myself. There’s a flash of a smirk, and he laughs as his hands slide up to the back of my head. His fingers tangle in my hair before he jerks my head to the side and blows a heated breath over my throat. “I’d fucking ruin you if you’d let me.”

He spins around before he falls back into the chair. The second his ass hits that seat, he’s shoving his cock against me, rolling his hips in ways no man should be able to. His hands roam over my front before he flips me over, pressing his body against me. Our eyes lock and for a brief moment, I see that boy I fell so hard for. Emotions well up inside of me. He’s no good for me. I’m no good for him. Everything about this is wrong. Sometimes the things our hearts want aren’t the things our souls need, and that’s a hard pill to swallow.