I gripped Holly’s hips with a strength that would have made her think I was being unsafe, had either of us been in the right state of mind. When I first came over that evening, maybe a few minutes after we agreed via text to meet, the clothes were off within seconds and I was attacking her neck and feeling up every inch of her body. It only took a few minutes for the foreplay to transition into the main act, and from then on in, the train had no brakes.
It was hard to say how long the sex had lasted. An hour? Two? Neither of us showed any signs of stopping. Both of us knew by this point that Holly was my pit stop, my stress relief, my little pet.
Even so, I liked to make sure she knew her place.
“Whose ass is this?” I asked, releasing her left hip just long enough to give it a stinging slap as I kept drilling her from behind.
“Yours, Daddy.” she moaned, rewarded with a confirming chuckle from me and a quickening to my pace.
“That’s a good girl.” I remarked assertively as I continued to ram her from behind. Every few thrusts I would gather my strength then go faster and deeper than I had before, earning a moan of surprise and pleasure from my little pet. Whenever I felt like I was getting even a little tired, I would regather my energy while grinding my hips in a circular motion against her ass, making sure what I lacked in speed, I more than made up for in depth.
With each pump, I could tell Holly felt more and more filled, and the more pleasure she felt, the more she wanted. With her trademark style, Holly kept moving her hips back to meet mine as her animal lust took over.
I grinned as her eagerness grew. I loved when she got like this. I released her hips with my left hand and leaned forward slightly, wrapping my hand around her neck. I pulled back as soon as I got a good grip, squeezing the sides of her neck slightly with my fingers. Holly couldn’t even moan her approval, but I knew she loved to be choked. Plus, even from behind, the sight was quite something – A submissive blonde bombshell mashing herself against my hips as if she was addicted to my cock, her huge tits swaying and her head up straight to help my choking hand get the best grip possible.
The sight was helping me on my way, and even though I had already came once before, I could feel the crescendo approaching. Giving her neck one last squeeze to remind her she was mine, I returned my hand to her hips and fucked her with such a speed, our hips were practically a blur.
Her now-freed mouth was put to good use as she began moaning instantly, seemingly making up for lost time. “Ooooh fuuuck…” she could barely get out. “You’re my favorite fuck, Daddy. You’re soooo good… I’m close, Daddy, I’m so close, keep going, please!”
“You don’t get to order me around, slut.” I gruffly reminded her.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry sir…” she replied practically on autopilot, completely lost in the moment.
“You know what you are to me?” I asked her, wanting to capitalize on the moment.
“Yes sir.” she all but panted.
“What are you?”
“I’m your slave, your lapdog. I’m the pussy you use and the cocksleeve who will do anything for you.” she recited, seemingly getting even more turned on by what she was saying.
“Close.” I muttered, then slapped her ass extra hard as punishment. “You’re nothing but a useless slut. You’re the cocksleeve I use, but you are nothing more than that. You’re made to be used and abused. Do you understand?”
“Yessssss,” Holly moaned, though I could have told her anything and she would have said yes.
“That’s a good girl.” I replied, realizing how close I was myself. I gave her a telltale grunt of importance that let her knew she needed to speed up her process to climax or be left behind, and she followed suit perfectly. Babbling like she’d never been fucked before, Holly picked up her speed and depth and began to climax maybe a second before the churned-up tightness in my balls couldn’t hold back the floodgates any more. She practically screamed as I unleashed my first load into her, my vision almost going black as I felt the fruits of my dominance pour into her, wave by wave, sending her into a frenzy.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god…” she cried out hoarsely. Slowly, the two of us slowed our rhythm together, before I finally collapsed onto my side of the bed, breathing heavily, not realizing how out of breath I was. With little more than a giggle, Holly followed suit, looking at me the whole time.
As usual, I felt a wave of shame wash over me. I hated the duality of my existence. I couldn’t help but say those things in the heat of the moment (and let’s face it, being a rough dom was way better than saying a fake ‘I love you’ twelve times), but deep down I knew that I could never face a single friend or family member and admit the things I said to a girl during sex. Maybe it was playful banter, and maybe she enjoyed it, but that didn’t change how gross I felt afterwards. God help me, if Molly and I ever did end up together, was this what her first time was going to be like? Me yelling at her that she’s nothing but my sexual plaything? I would be too ashamed to look her in the eye after that.
“Breathe.” I heard Holly say, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned to face her, no doubt panic on my face. She responded by giving me a weirdly sympathetic smile. She slowly extended her hand forward and wiped what looked like a tear off of my face. I was surprised to see any on her fingers, and blinked rapidly to find that there were a lot more in my eyes.
With a sigh, I sat up, as Holly wiped the tears on her side of her bed. “You’d think that I’d be the one with the issues,” she dryly noted.
“I don’t have issues.” I managed to get out.
Holly’s sympathetic smile didn’t wane, but nevertheless she gave me a chuckle. “You go from telling me I’m nothing but your cocksleeve to telling me you love me, to nearly killing me with your choking then crying after. Dude, you have issues.”
“What, like you’re some expert now?” I spat out, a little too angrily.
She shrugged. “Something clearly is eating at you. I’m not saying it’s a specific thing, but most guys don’t do this. Granted, most guys also don’t have the balls to try out half the things you do to me, so if you have issues with your dad or something, keep them up.”
It was my turn to chuckle, even with the blatant insensitivity of her comment. “I actually do have issues with my dad, yeah.”
She nodded. “I feel like more guys do than are willing to admit. I think it’s a sensitive subject with males.”
“Maybe.” I replied.
“Anything really bad?”
“I think it’s the usual story. Drinks too much, gets a little too violent, didn’t actually want to have me, separated from mom.”
“Didn’t want to have you?” she picked that one out of my tangent.
“Yup.” I nodded. By this time both of us were sitting side-by-side on her bed, naked in more ways than one. “I was a, uh, an accident. They were drunk at a party or something.”
“Really?” Holly mused. “How old?”
“Mom couldn’t have been older than twenty-two. Dad was older.”
“The devil.” Holly replied, grinning. “Is that what the marks on your back are from?”
The conversation stopped there. I stopped my half-smile from spilling my guts and could only think to put my head in my hands, suddenly wanting to be as far away from the conversation as possible. I prided myself as a guy who could handle anything, a guy who was cool in a crisis, but I just suddenly wanted to hide. To not exist, at least not exist in this conversation.
It clearly showed. “Hey, hey.” Holly replied, as close to soothingly as she could. “I didn’t mean to bring that up. If it’s a sore spot, I’m sorry.”
I could feel my voice getting choked up. I cleared my throat and replied, “Uh, yeah. Those are from him.” as clearly and evenly as I could muster.
“You know you could do something about that, right? Report him or something?”
“It’s… complicated. There’s a, there’s a lot of factors at play.” I sighed. “He helps pay for tuition and he… he looms it over my head. I don’t want to have any debt when I leave.”
“Okay.” Holly accepted. “But as soon as college is over you don’t have to listen to him anymore.”
I shrugged. “We’ll see.” I let silence fill the air before continuing, “He’s still my dad.”
Holly glanced once more at my back. “He also seems like a fuck.” she commented. “Maybe you need a girlfriend more than a friend with benefits, just saying.”
I let my tongue sit over my front teeth in thought. “Are you propositioning me?” I asked, looking down, readying another talk of rejection.
Holly, surprisingly, laughed. “Normally I might be, but I can hear your tone loud and clear.”
“It’s nothing personal, I’m just not emotionally ready for a relationship.”
“Plus you have a crush on someone else.” Holly remarked, looking at her nails.
I raised my head to look at her. “How do you know…?”
She rolled her eyes. “Only an idiot couldn’t know. Broken guys are really easy to sweep into relationships. Have sex with them enough, talk about their life problems, and they cave. The only ones who won’t have someone else on their mind. Plus you keep saying you love me, and you keep calling me ‘Molly.’ I assume that’s her name?”
I noticed my mouth was hanging and clamped it shut. “Uh, yeah.” I replied, fidgeting with my hands.
“I wonder if it’s just coincidence you keep having sex with me when our names are so similar.” she replied with a knowing grin. “Girl from class?”
I sighed loudly, preparing myself. “I’ve known her for a long time. Family friend. Really innocent, really sweet. I know we’d be a bad match.”
“Go on.” Holly dared me, a slight smile on her face. For the next ten minutes I filled in every detail of the relationship between Molly and myself, with Holly not reacting beyond asking an occasional question. By the end, I was almost shaking, having to describe the encounter I had with Daisy in vivid detail. Holly’s hand was on my shoulder, rubbing sympathetically. I don’t think I minded that happening, but it didn’t help in any way either.
“It sounds like she means a lot to you.” Holly finally commented.
“Do you think I raped her?” I blurted out.
Holly chewed on my words for a bit. “I’m not the best person to ask about things like this.”
“Honestly? Hearing about what you did kinda turned me on.”
“What?!” I asked, surprised at her bluntness.
She shrugged. “Sue me. This whole situation sounds really hot. I dunno what I’d call what you did, but I’d be surprised if she didn’t want it. And she probably wants more.”
I wanted so badly to believe what Holly was saying. Maybe a little too badly. “Do… do you think so?”
Then Holly smiled, but in a way I had never seen her smile before. “I really do. So do you just wanna sit there and think about it, or do you wanna do something about it?”
“Wh… what do you mean?” I was completely off guard now. I didn’t know what was happening, and was numb enough to let her words carry me from place to place.
“What I mean is, how would you like some help converting her?” Holly asked, the smile remaining on her face.
“I’ll have you know that I did in fact really let loose over the weekend.” Molly fired back, grabbing a premade sandwich from the cafeteria’s counter.
“Yeah, you probably only studied for seven hours a night instead of the usual eight.” I sarcastically replied, waiting for my order of chicken fingers. Molly responded by lightly clocking me on the shoulder with her bottle of flavored water.
I turned to face her, one eyebrow lowered. “Okay then, party animal, what did you do?”
“I played The Sims 3 for the first time this year, and I played it for about three hours.” Molly proclaimed in a faux proud voice. “So you can take your chicken fingers and shove ‘em.”
“Jeez, aren’t you feisty today.” I remarked, turning back to the counter to accept my tray.
“If I’m not feisty, you just claim you win.” she replied. “You always say you’re fighting harder so you deserve the victory more, all because I’m not being mean or something. Sooooo fuck you.” she finished proudly.
Without realizing it, my mouth hung upon as I whipped my head around to stare at her in shock. Molly wasn’t exactly a saint, but she swore so little that it almost always was reserved for when she was furious. We both stared at each other studying each other’s faces before we eventually broke out in laughter. Eventually the laughter died down and with it, the conversation, so wordlessly we paid for our meals and found a place to sit and eat, in uncomfortably unusual silence.
“So, you played the Sims?” I awkwardly tried to reignite the conversation. I didn’t like being silent after her, not after what I’d done.
Molly enthusiastically nodded, pausing only to swallow the bite she’d taken. “Honestly, I forgot how much fun it was to play games like that. The Sims is like that weird kind of fun that you binge on for like three days, then stop playing for a year.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t know, I guess.”
“You should play it sometime, I think you’d get really into it.” she continued.
“Pass.” I declared, taking another bite.
“What is it about video games that scares you?” Molly asked with a challenging smile.
“Bores me.” I clarified. “What the fuck is the point of doing things in a digital space if it doesn’t affect the real world? It’s like living in a fantasy.”
Molly lowered one eyebrow, her smile not waning. “Uh, yeah. Escapism is kind of the point. I get to live in a fantasy and escape the reality of my boring life.”
“By playing The Sims.” I replied, putting emphasis on the title to make my point. “Get a job, make a family, pay taxes. Yeah, it’s a brave new world in there with those Mac graphics.”
“Become the President in a few hours, make a seventeen-story house, burn it down for fun, then remove a ladder to your swimming pool and watch your little family drown.” Molly replied with this cute sadistic fire in her eyes.
“Aha!” I replied, putting my arm down on the table pointing at her, forgetting about my lunch at this point. “Sims don’t drown in The Sims 3 when you take away pool ladders.”
“Aha!” Molly replied with as much ferocity, surprising me, mimicking my arm with her own. “What kind of non-gamer knows that? You’re interested in it, admit it!”
“I’ll admit no such thing.” I turned my nose away from her.
“Admi- admit it!” Molly pressured, her smile growing.
I responded by blowing a raspberry at her, and she laughed back heartily. “You’re such a goof.” she mumbled, still smiling. “I made a Sim of you last night too, I’ll have you know.”
I smiled at her incredulously. “Oh yeah?”
She nodded. “Now, if only I could remember what traits he had.” She looked up at the ceiling in mock thought and began counting on her fingers. “Grumpy, childish, hates the outdoors…”
“You suck.” I pushed her, both of us grinning. Molly would have responded to me, but in that moment, something else caught her attention. She was waving at someone behind me. I turned around to see Captain Suave from earlier on waving to her confidently.
I looked back at her, then at the good Captain, then back at her. “Is that the gigolo that got your number the other day?”
“Aaron!” Molly blurted out in disappointment.
I shrugged, gesturing outwardly with my hands. “What?”
“He is not… a gigolo. He’s a nice guy.”
“He sure looks like he could charm any girl’s dad but then make her come home to him in tears.” I remarked bitterly, turning back to face where he was.
Molly chuckled, albeit begrudgingly. “That’s just Carson’s style. That’s who he is on the outside, but he still is sweet. He has my best interests at heart, I’ll have you know.”
“Carson.” I remarked with a poisonous tone to myself, ignoring everything else she said. “I forgot he had a name.”
“You are such a lump.” Molly complained sourly, with an annoyed smile on her face. She took another bite of her food before speaking again. “I would have thought that you’d be proud of me for making a friend.”
“I am proud of you! Really! I’m bouncing off the walls!” I turned back to face her, talking with my hands Italian-style like I always did when I was flustered. “It’s him I don’t trust! You mark my words, he’s all sweet but that’s because he wants something from you. That’s always why guys do these things.”
“And why are you always so nice to me?” Molly asked me, smirking like she caught me.
I didn’t hesitate. “Because your happiness is the most important thing to me, because your smile lights up the whole damn world, because I feel like I owe you for making my whole life worth living so I at least want to make sure you go through life with as little pain as possible, take your pick.”
Molly visibly blushed and looked down at her food. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.” she lamely mumbled.
“Oh, I am so fuckin’ sorry you matter to me.” I replied, still as riled up as ever. “What, you don’t like the truth of it?”
“I really like the truth of it, you protective doofus.” Molly replied, looking back up at me. “It doesn’t mean you’re my guardian angel. And you’re yelling again.”
“I am n-” I began, before someone’s shadow overtook Molly’s face. I turned around to see a very familiar busty blonde standing before us.
“Mind if I sit here?” Holly asked us. “I couldn’t find any free tables.”
“Uh…” I started, looking back at Molly, shrugging. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”
Molly shrugged back, though her shoulders were hunched up and her jaw was clenched, clearly anxious. I invited the stranger I clearly had never met to sit beside me and cleared my throat.
“So, what were we talking about?” I asked Molly, doing my best to ignore Holly entirely.
“I dunno.” Molly replied quietly.
“Sure.” she shrugged meekly.
“Did you actually make a Sim of me?” I grinned, trying to make Molly open up a little, as hard as that was around strangers.
Molly smiled weakly, noticing my conversation starters and attempting to make an effort. “Yup.” she simply answered.
“Was he devilishly handsome?” I lowered one eyebrow at her, smiling.
Molly’s smile grew too. “Of course.” she replied, still anxious but progress being made.
“And lemme guess, you killed him.”
Molly laughed out loud. “Set him on fire.”
“Oooof course you did.” I mumbled. “I at least hope he had a good career.”
“Line cook.” Molly mumble-replied before taking another bite of her food.
“Line cook.” I repeated, practically to myself. I knew I’d be carrying the conversation by this point. “Ouch. Well, there are worse fates. You got class soon?”
“You looking forward to it?” I hoped Molly wouldn’t get too uncomfortable with all of my questions.
She merely shrugged. “It’s class.” she replied. “It’ll be okay.”
“Fair enough.” I replied, looking at my watch. “I should probably get going, speaking of.”
“Yeah, I should too.” she replied, standing up. She awkwardly looked at Holly, and knowing her, she wanted to tell Holly ‘sorry’ or something, but thought better of it and walked away a little too quickly. I practically jogged to join her so we could say goodbye to each other as we dropped our trays off. By the time I had looked back at the table, Holly was gone. I looked back to the hallway, and sure enough, Molly was gone too.
For good measure, I looked back at the cafeteria to see if Carson was gone too. Annoyingly, he was the only one that was still there, eating lunch alone at a table usually meant for four. Like a loser. I scoff-laughed and started to make my own way out of there.
As I walked, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and began to call a certain someone. It rang a few times, then she picked up.
“So, detective, do you have enough to go on?” I asked Holly.
“I got a pretty good feel of her personality, yeah. It’s usually just down to the stereotypes. The true stereotypes, I mean. You get me?”
I really didn’t. “Sure.”
“I will say that she’s definitely a cutie. You know how to pick them, daddy.”
“Don’t get creepy with me.” I replied a little uncomfortably, glancing around at the people I shared the hallway with. “Where even are you on campus, aren’t you afraid people will… y’know… listen in?”
I heard her laugh on the other end. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.” she replied smugly. “Speaking of, I need a few more details.”
“Okay, shoot.” I responded, finding a hallway with relatively few people and sitting down on an unoccupied bench-couch thing. Whatever you call those couches in university hallways.
For the next little while Holly quizzed me on Molly, on everything she could think of. The last time I heard her be flat-out angry, what she said when she was angry or sad, her fears, her goals, her dream job, any celebrity crushes, allergies, her favorite color, her favorite food, Marvel or DC, you name it. Each time she asked, I had a reliable answer.
“Damn.” she almost softly muttered. “You certainly know quite a lot about her.”
I shrugged in response, despite her not being able to see me. “Is that all?”
“Yup, I’ve got a pretty good profile on her, give me a week or so to make up a plan.” She clicked her tongue in some kind of thought. “Oh, and when you’re done with her, let me know. After getting to see her myself, I think I’ll want a turn with her when you’re done.” I could practically hear her smile through the phone.
It annoyed me. “Okay, bye.” I replied, not waiting for her response before hanging up. I could feel tension building up. My mouth twitched once or twice while my brain was trying to prevent me from saying something aloud. White-hot flashes of some kind of adrenaline flashed through my vision as I scanned my surroundings looking for something I wanted to throw at the wall.
Once I’m done with her, as she said. Please. I shook my head in disgust, then realized how worked up I was making myself and forced breath into my lungs. Breath one. Breath two. Breath three. Eyes closed. Eyes open. Rational. Be rational.
To my relief, I was calm again. I tried to practice what I was reading in some self-help book I bought, and I’m glad it worked.
I wasn’t going to be ‘done with’ Molly. That’s not how it worked. Molly wasn’t some plaything I wanted to use. She wanted this… well, she probably wanted this as much as I did. No, definitely. She definitely did. She was lusting after me, at least in her sleep. No, in real life, disguised as sleep. She was pulling me into her, it was just a ruse. A ruse that lasted… since we were children. She was just… pretending to be as innocent as she was. Saying ‘fuck’ today, that wasn’t coincidence. That was a message. Hell, I bet Captain Suave was a plant. She asked him to appear in front of us to make me jealous, to make me do something. Hell, I bet he was a nice guy in real life.
In real life… I chuckled to myself. I sounded pathetic. Was I just a monster? Maybe. May-freaking-be. But as far as I knew, I bet I wasn’t one. I bet it was all true, that Molly wanted me too and everything was going to be okay from here on in. Once Holly gives me the plan, I reasoned to myself, I’d act on it, fuck it, now-or-never style. The rest would be up to the universe.
The plan was executed the following Monday night. Before Molly got home, I hopped into her room armed with my toolbox. Suppose Molly’s bed was unstable. Say the bedboards were redesigned so that, when she hopped into bed like she normally does, the bed falls apart. Not broken, but in need of fixing. Of course, if she’d inspect it she’d realize it was only taken apart, but no one ever inspects these things if someone more experienced rushes in at the first sign of an “Ouch.” Suppose the only guy that knew how to fix it was Aaron and his box of tools, but he couldn’t fix it in one night. She’d probably have to find somewhere else to sleep.
Smiling at my handiwork, I surveyed the bed one more time and picked up my box of tools. The first part of the plan worked. I checked my watch – on schedule. On to part two.
I placed my tools back into my room, then reached into my pocket to pull out a plastic bag filled with an unlikely substance, a surprisingly volatile one. One of the things that made Molly and I bond so early on in life was that we were seemingly similar in so many ways – allergies was one of them. Dog hair.
Suppose dog hair was sprinkled on the couch then kneaded into it, just minutes before Chris and Jerome would get home from whatever they’d been up to. Molly couldn’t sleep on that, definitely not. Step three would be on her shoulders. Molly was a kind girl – kind and paranoid. I would need both on my side for the whole plan to succeed.
After the plan was completely executed, I went downstairs into my room, put my head in my hands, and prayed. I probably prayed like that for hours, long enough to hear Molly come home, make small talk, and go to her room. Long enough to make out the typing noises coming from her room, that sigh she made when she was done her work, and a few footsteps. The sound of her bag hitting the floor.
Her walking out into the washroom.
An electric toothbrush whirring.
One set of clothes rustling to the floor, and a pair of makeshift pajamas hitting skin.
A few more footsteps. A closing door.
I could practically hear the tick-tock of time, the individual seconds passing me by in super-slow motion as I focused, waiting for one sound.
An uncomfortable “Aah!” accompanied by a crunch-esque sound of wood collapsing.
My hands whipped off of my face like a bolt of lightning. I bolted to my door, then quickly realized immediately responding would be unrealistic. At the door, I counted to three in my head, then opened my door, then hers.
“What’s going on?” I asked to the darkness of her room.
Molly only groaned in response. A second or so passed before she somehow found the switch to her bedside lamp. My eyes were treated to an almost comical portrayal of Molly strewn across her mangled heap of what used to be her bed.
“The bed…” she managed.
I immediately went to her and extended a hand to her in assistance. “Are you okay?” I asked with the tone and face I had been rehearsing.
“Yeah, I think so.” She grimaced as she stood up straight, grabbing her back with one hand. “Ack. That… hurts.” She glanced back to the bed, then at me, and smiled slightly. “Did I gain fifty pounds today?”
I smiled sympathetically, then the both of us looked back to her bed. “I’m pretty sure beds are supposed to hold the weight of human bodies.” I remarked. “You’re not exactly John Pinette either.”
“Who?” she asked, still wincing in pain as she bent her back from side to side.
“Never mind.” I dismissed her.
“So what happened?” Molly turned her attention back to the bed, glancing under it.
I glanced too. “Shit’s broken.” I replied, getting a lowered eyebrow from her. “It looks like a particular spot was stressed. I could probably fix it, but I don’t think I could have it ready for you by tonight. I’d need to get a few parts.”
“Oh, no, Aaron.” she soothed. “I’m not expecting you to do that.”
“Who else will? The Terrible Twins upstairs?” I gestured to the ceiling. “They didn’t even come downstairs to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m sure they just had the TV on a little loud is all…” she replied uncomfortably.
“Molly.” I asserted. “I’m going to fix it for you. It’ll be like new. You’ll sleep like a baby. Okay?”
A smile broke across her face. “Okay.” she softly replied. “Thank you, Aaron. You’re such a good person.”
“I try to be.” I replied, looking her right in the eyes. I had hoped the moment would last longer, but Molly looked right back to her bed. Even without realizing it, she was always chastising me in one way or another.
“So in the meantime, I guess we just move the base out and I’ll sleep on the mattress itself?” she asked, eyeing the carcass up and down. My eyes drifted from side to side in panic. I hadn’t prepared for that solution. My lower eyelid twitched as she reached for the underside. I needed to think of something, fast.
“I… wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I blurted out in a cautious tone.
“Why?” she asked, looking back at me.
“From looking at that, you’re lucky as little is broken as it is.” I replied with a surge of adrenaline-fueled confidence. “If we move that thing without knowing how to go about it, there’s a good chance it could break further. I’m only so good at this kind of thing, and I want to make sure you still have a bed after this.”
Molly didn’t need any further convincing. “Okay, fair enough. Thanks, Aaron.” she replied with a slight smile, one that instantly faded. “That still puts me out of a bed, though.”
I shrugged. “Do you mind taking the couch upstairs?”
“Yeah, I guess that makes the most sense.” she replied. As she excused herself past me, I faintly smiled. The most sense. As if there were other options. Like my bed. My smile got bigger as I thought to myself how she wanted this too. Finally realizing I was just staring at nothing, I quickly got upstairs to join the other three.
Jerome and Chris had evidently settled down by this part of the night. Chris was gently playing with Molly’s hair as he kept telling her sympathetic things.
“Chris, really, I’m fine.” Molly practically laughed. “It was honestly more funny than anything.”
“Well, still.” Chris pouted. “I couldn’t think about what I’d do if I lost you.”
Molly gave him a dry smile. “Yeah, I’m lucky to be alive.” We all resigned to the TV and over time, I began to hear sniffling. It was difficult to stifle my smile as they got more and more frequent. Finally Molly broke the silence.
“What…?” she asked to herself, loud enough for me to hear. I turned my attention to her in time to see her rake her hand along the couch. Dog hair got caught in her fingernails, which she examined with her hand held as high as her head.
“Um… what’s with the dog hair on the bed?” she asked.
“Dog hair?” I repeated.
“Yes. Dog hair.” Molly replied emphatically to me. She had a hint of anger in her eyes now. Part of me felt bad, but I knew it was because she was exhausted and kept getting bad luck. No one said anything, so she looked around. “Hello? I’m asking a question here!”
Jerome and I had joked around about Molly being the real head of the household before because the only person who always had the higher status each and every time they got even close to angry was Molly. “Uh… dunno.” Jerome replied.
“I’m, uh, very allergic to dog hair.” Molly replied before sniffling again. “Very allergic. Here, get up.” She nudged Chris up out of the way, enough so that he got off the couch. While he stood there, Molly raked the couch. “It’s everywhere! I can’t sleep on the couch like this!”
Chris scratched the back of his head, clearly as bewildered as Molly. “I… I-I Dunno.” he replied sheepishly. “I mean I visited my parents today, and they have a few dogs… but I didn’t think that much would get on me, let alone the couch. I didn’t know you were allergic.”
“So it was you?” Molly asked, probably more accusingly than she meant to.
“It… it could have!” Chris replied, again sheepishly. “I just can’t believe…”
“Yeah, well, you know what I can’t believe?” Molly replied, her heat turning into sadness at this point. “How little I can… how much I need to fight to just… find a place to sleep!” The annoyance of it all brought the beginnings of tears to her eyes.
That sight was torture to me. I hated seeing Molly upset, and that emotional reaction gave me the genuineness I needed in my voice. “Molly,” I began. “Sleep in my bed tonight. I’ll take the couch, or a chair in here.”
“But you’re allergic too.” she replied in a small voice, her tears still there. “I don’t want you to suffer.”
“Watching you this sad is suffering enough.” I replied with a tone of seriousness.
Chris nodded towards me. “I can agree with that.” he sighed. “Molly, just take him up on it. It really breaks all of our hearts to see you like this, and you work so hard. You deserve at least a good night’s sleep after all that.”
“Okay.” Molly finally conceded.
“Great.” Chris replied happily, turning to me and smiling. “Thanks for being a good friend.”
“On one condition.” Molly continued as if Chris hadn’t said a word. “Aaron, don’t sleep up here either. I know you, and I know how much you hate it, even without the hair being here. Just share the bed with me.” She saw me open up my mouth in protest and immediately continued. “It’s no big deal, we’ve done it before. It’s fine, it’s not awkward or anything.” She ended her speech with that trademark sweet smile with hers, although her eyes were still slightly moist from her earlier frustration.
“As long as we’re all in agreement.” Chris added, his smile now faded.
I scrunched my lips up together in annoyance. “Fine.” I conceded, turning around. “I’m going to go get ready for bed.” I rounded the corner and disappeared into the staircase, not quite going down as I wanted to hear the aftermath.
“What’s up with him, is he okay?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, he just finds this whole thing awkward.” Molly answered.
“Mm.” Chris replied, kind of lazily. It was hard to tell without getting to see his face. With that, I quickly went downstairs and brushed my teeth, then changed into something comfy, but not too lewd or awkward for sharing a bed platonically. As I got into bed, Molly came into the room.
I could tell there was tension, so I decided to cut it. “Just so you know, my room is not a hotel.” I told her. “You’re starting to sleep in my bed about as much as your own.”
“I wouldn’t have to if the couch upstairs was available.” Molly replied, not even hiding the disgust in her voice.
I quieted my own voice down. “Chris?” I asked, like we were sharing a joke.
“Oh my G-” Molly started, whispering too. She then pretended to pull out her hair, which made the both of us laugh. “Don’t worry.” she returned to her normal voice. “After this, I’m taking good care of my bed from now on.” She returned to her shy state as she popped her own bubble, turning off the room light and getting in beside me.
“Comfy?” I asked.
“Yes, thanks.” she replied softly. “Goodnight, Aaron. Sorry for being such a burden.”
“Only apologize if that ever happens, because it hasn’t yet.” I replied, albeit dismissively. With that, silence enveloped us and Molly drifted off to sleep. I don’t know how long it took – one hour, two – before I was confident enough to test the waters.
“Molly.” No response.
“Molly.” Nothing. She was asleep. I made a mental note to track her breathing when she was awake compared to when she was asleep and then went to make a move.
Part of me was calculating, the other part pure nervousness. How was I going to make a move? What would I do? What I try some incentive?
As if wired to an electric-shock machine, a flash and a buzz whirred through me. It kind of sounded like a wrong-answer buzzer during a game show, accompanied by a blood-red portrayal of Daisy’s face. No. No, I couldn’t make the first move. If this was all in my head, I couldn’t make the first move. That would only mean Daisy would be right. And Daisy was wrong, I didn’t molest anyone. Molly wanted it. Hell, Molly wants it, I reasoned to myself. And to prove it, I was just going to turn to my side and wait for her to come to me.
There was only one problem. Molly never came to me. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed awake, but she never did anything. At one point she turned onto her side and temporarily grabbed my shoulder, but just as I held my breath and the first firework of the show went off in my brain in anticipation, she loosened her grip and just remained there, only shifting again when she was uncomfortable or something.
Part of me was devastated. As I slowly lost the battle to sleep, it became inevitable that nothing would happen tonight. On the other hand, another part of me was elated. Nothing would happen tonight. Sure, Molly didn’t repeat her performance, but I was letting that happen. A rapist wouldn’t do that. Rapists didn’t do that. They just took what they wanted without consent. I was a good man, waiting for consent. I was a good person. A good person.
At the same time, I may have been a good person, but I was a good person that had ‘not so good person’ thoughts. And my final thought before sleep finally took me was, “Something tells me Molly would be too paranoid to sleep on the couch if I couldn’t fix the bed by tomorrow…”
“Yup, almost done.” I replied as I screwed a part of her bed back together. “I reckon I could have your bed finished by tomorrow, if you can hold out that long.”
“Okay.” Molly replied, visibly uncomfortable.
“What, what’s wrong?” I asked, getting out from under her bed, standing up.
“Look… this is going to sound stupid.” Molly began.
I waited, then gestured outwards with my hands. “Well I won’t know until you say it.”
“I’m just worried about the couch.” Molly began. “I don’t think I can… I’m worried it’ll still be there.”
“Chris vacuumed the couch himself.” I pointed out. “He looked pretty guilty.”
“I think I read once that allergens can remain for a few days.” Molly uneasily added.
“So what, you’re going to avoid the living room for the next week?”
“Just tonight. Could I… could I take your bed again? Just once?” Molly asked, then immediately felt her face flush from nervousness. “You said it wasn’t a bother, right?”
I chuckled. “Right.” She suggested it. She liked it. And you know what, if she was going to get this bold, so was I. “Fine, but I want to sleep in my bed too. After all, you said that wasn’t a bother either.”
Molly sported a large smile. “Deal.” she replied.
I smiled back. This was our way of flirting now. Flirting without… without flirting. The smile was all innocence, but I think we both knew. Why else would she ask to take my bed again? I bet she didn’t even believe all that about allergens. She just wanted in my bed again.
Hell, maybe she herself was testing to see if I would make the first move. And I didn’t. I was a gentleman who could be trusted. Or I was a shy guy and needed a girl who would take some incentive. Either way, Molly wanted me. She wanted me as badly as I wanted her. I could practically taste that answer.
It became almost routine. Prepare for bed, crawl in, wait for Molly to join. Listen to her breathing, wait for her to ‘fall asleep,’ or just fall asleep. Maybe, fuck it, maybe sleeping Molly was the one with the crush on me. I didn’t know. I didn’t know…
Wham. Guilt. You know what I just did, I thought to myself… I just used Molly’s anxiety against her. I knew she’d be too anxious to use the couch on night two. I knew that, and used it to get her in bed with me. Here was the biggest What If of all… what if none of this was actually Molly wanting me, and I was the biggest psycho creep on the planet?
I turned to face Molly. It was hard to make out her face given there was virtually any light in the room… hell, maybe I was imagining what light was in the room. I thought I could make out her face, and from what I could see, it was innocent and sweet. Cute, even. An innocent unspoilt lamb.
I turned back away. It was, after all, one time. Even if it was what Daisy said it wasn’t, maybe she was just having an incredibly sexual dream. Who knows when that might happen again? If I was sleeping beside another guy because we had to share a bed, there was a chance of basically zero that I would be fondling him in his sleep. What in the hell were the chances of this happening twice with Molly?
I lay there, like that, thinking as I always did, for perhaps another hour straight. Every small movement Molly made created a sliver of hope in me, then after her movements died down, a wash of shame. I got laid regularly. Why the fuck did I need this so badly?
The movements themselves were usually out of comfort. Once or twice she’d latch on to my shoulder or somewhere similar, and I’d even get to feel her breath on my arm skin as she silently snored.
Suddenly, completely out of nowhere, Molly grabbed the same arm and turned over herself, in what I could only guess was an attempt to spoon. Of course, it was the wrong arm, and arms don’t bend that way. I held to suppress a yelp of pain as I quickly turned over and substituted one arm for another, and pulled it over her.
It was happening again. My throat was on fire in nervousness and anticipation. Whatever was happening, something was. Molly guided my hand over her chest as she pulled me in closer to the spoon. My hand was now on her chest, and while I could have used this opportunity to feel her breasts again, I couldn’t help but notice her pulse hadn’t changed at all. Were Molly conscious, I knew her heart could beat out a samba at double timing at that moment. Hell, even the first time this happened, she recoiled at our first touch. Now she was inciting it.
Was this because I didn’t make the first move last night? Was this Molly’s was of saying I should be bold…? This had to be a conscious move. Against my better judgment, I cleared my throat.
It was a bit quieter than I wanted it to be, but loud enough to be unmistakable if one were awake. I wanted to see how she’d react. Would she respond, shrink away, do anything…? I waited, holding my breath for whatever would happen.
And waited. Nothing happened. She was still holding my arm against her, contently I imagined. I could help but think again of if she was waiting for me to make a move, and eventually the thought consumed me enough to want to try. Slowly, gingerly, I moved my hand Molly had draped over herself just a tad south, enough to start a journey of feeling her up over her clothes.
At first, it was a slight touch. Then, emboldened by her inaction to refuse me, I began to caress her breasts from outside her pajama shirt, all the while listening to any changes in her breathing and heartbeat like I was Sherlock Holmes. I don’t know myself why, but I decided again to try to find a sign of conscious life in her.
Still nothing, no visible change in her at all. Smiling to myself at the strange situation, I decided to just accept the situation for what it was and continued to lightly caress her through her shirt. Her signs of enjoyment came pretty clearly, as she began to make little breath-sighs of pleasure at the caressing my hands were doing. This was par for the course if I was remembering our previous encounter correctly, until she started to slowly rub her butt up and down against me.
I almost froze in shock. My sweet, innocent (albeit sex-story-reading) little Molly was essentially grinding up against me. I could do nothing but mumble, “Oh, fuck…” to myself as I could feel my erection growing, and my lust building.
Sleeping Molly was at it again. Arching her back to push her chest forward into my hand and at the same time pushing her butt into my crotch against my still-growing cock. I was practically panting in anticipation, and couldn’t take it anymore. With one swift motion I yanked her shirt up to find, to no one’s surprise, no bra again. I teasingly encircled her nipple with my middle finger before going back to my caressing motions as her sighs gained more throatiness, more desire.
After a few minutes of this teasing, Molly slowly flipped over to nuzzle into me, her cute face burying itself into my chest. Instead of grinding up against me from behind, now she was attempting to grind her front into me. Again, I tried to see into the darkness to the best of my ability – eyes closed. It was still possible she had no idea this was happening. I couldn’t resist seeing her cute face and leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek. She appeared to have no response, but to be fair, her mind was occupied elsewhere.
That ‘elsewhere’ turned out to be a bit more of a southern area. Molly, the innocentress, the girl I lusted after for so long, but thought I would never actually have sex with, was tracing her hand down my clothed chest lower… and lower… until she eventually reached my waistband. Just like Molly, I was wearing a shirt but no pants, just boxers. It would be incredibly easy for her to get her hand into that elastic waistband.
I held my breath, sweat forming at my brow, feeling like everything that had ever happened between us was leading up to this one moment. Molly’s fingers slid down to that sensitive area of skin between the shirt and the boxers, and kept on going. As soon as I felt her hand’s tracing line make contact with my dick, I opened my mouth instinctively and clamped my teeth together to avoid making any other movement. I was antsier than I had ever been in my entire life.
Sleeping Molly clearly took a lesson or two from my efforts with her breasts as she began to fondle me through my boxers. My legs wanted to jerk back and forth with every motion she made, but with controlled breathing, I was able to contain myself. Each trace of her hand against my painfully hard shaft only caused it to twitch again, and brought me a hair’s width closer to both an orgasm and insanity.
Eventually, something clicked. Molly was inciting this. But she wanted me to make the first move. In this situation, I was the master of our destiny. Gingerly, I lowered my hand down to my boxers and slid them down – not too far, but enough to free my aching cock to the cool night air of my room.
I think at first Sleeping Molly didn’t know what to make of this development. I bet if I could see closer, I’d see her face slightly scrunch up in confusion as she kept feeling my dick, only now there wasn’t a layer of clothes between us. Once Molly got a feel for it, she began to map my dick out with her hand (and I wouldn’t want to brag, but there was a fair amount to map out) and then began to slowly jack me off with her hand.
And… it wasn’t good. At all. She’d pull a little too far back on my dick and she would kind of do it in a tugging motion, which was totally fair for what I assumed she’d be, a first-timer. At the same time, telling a girl she’s doing it wrong is easy – non-verbally getting a sleep-slut to stop jacking me off was another story. I could have taken the risk on shaking her, but if she was completely unaware of what she was doing, shaking her awake would traumatize her. Eventually I reasoned that no amount of intimacy was worth what I was feeling at this moment and I did what I could only think to do, which was to sit up further on the bed.
It seemed to work. As my dick went further up the bed, Molly’s hand attempted to rise with it, but soon she let go. My logic that Molly wouldn’t rise to sit up alongside the dick had paid off, until I realized another dilemma – my dick was conveniently at her mouth’s height.
I’d like to say I was a good man that night, that I would have made Daisy proud with what I had done next, but I was lost in a haze of lust and it was clear Molly was too. At first it was experimental – I’d angle my hips so that the head of my dick would lightly land on her face. As I figured out where her face was, I tried to angle it closer to her lips – not to force it in or anything, but purely to see what she would do.
At first, she did nothing. The head of my dick rested on her lips and she’d make a kind of grunt – those you’d hear people make when they were still asleep. Still, her grunt scared me half to death thinking she was coming to – I was beyond through the looking glass at this point. I just had to own it.
After staring into the darkness for a bit, I gained enough courage to push my hips slightly forward, and that’s when Molly’s mouth opened. I didn’t pry her mouth open by any means, it was quite clear that her sleeping self wanted this. She wanted me. I slowly pushed my cock one of two inches into her mouth, then realized choking would wake her up and pulled my hips back, retracting my dick. I cringed at the slight feeling of teeth (though it was less of a scraping feel and more of a tease) and tried to retract my dick fully, but when I did, I felt a cramp in my lower back and had to push slightly forward again.
That was when Molly’s lips closed over my dick. I gasped in shock as her mouth started, incredibly slowly at first, to bob forth, then back, then forth again. We were at the next level, Molly was blowing me in her sleep. I had to train myself, on the fly, to keep my panting as quiet as possible as Molly continued her oral efforts on me.
I was in heaven. The blowjob itself was okay, but the fact that Molly had my dick in her mouth was a dream come true, an erotic adventure come to life. Slowly, softly, I put my hand on the back of her head and gently applied pressure so I could enjoy the moment more as my dick pulsed, enjoying the feeling of her warm mouth engulfing me.
Molly never gave up, and while her tongue was never engaged, she sucked me for a good five to ten minutes before I gently moved back far enough to take my dick completely out of her mouth. I could her her mouth opening and closing a few more times, perhaps out of confusion, before she got the memo and her arms went out again, I guess trying to find me. Gladly, I sunk down to my original placement and accepted the embrace. Part of me wondered whether I should have broken off the embrace so she wouldn’t feel awkward in the morning realizing her arms were around me, but I wanted to see what she would do if she did wake up like this. I couldn’t help sporting a grin – Molly blew me. Progress was being made. I was so glad I had made that deal with Holly. If I hadn’t, Molly and I could have had a one-time incident and the whole thing would have been forgotten in time.
But now we had something more. A pattern. Proof, undeniable evidence that this wasn’t something that happened… this was something that was happening. And I knew for a fact this wouldn’t be the last time it would be happening.
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