Addicted Ch. 21

Brain fog.

Can't think.

I blinked the sleep from my eyes. It's Saturday morning. Okay, got that much. Body heat against me. Lizzie. Oh, yeah... I came like a firehose last night, during road head, then passed out the second we got home. After dancing, should've showered.

Lizzy collapsed on top of me. There were still dried flakes of cum in her brown hair. Honestly, I loved that.

Fuck. I was barely awake and the vanguard was already ahead of me: my dick was at half-staff and it wasn't the regular morning wood. No, this was thinking about my girlfriend wanting to watch me bone her two besties.

Not sure I'd ever go soft again.

Okay, calm down. This was after a night of drinking and dancing and people say crazy things in the moment.

Lizzie's voice was gravelly, "Oh, my God. The crick in my neck..."

"Good morning. You did kinda fall asleep on me."

She pushed herself up, rolling her head in circles. With her tousled brown hair, it was just the cutest goddamned thing ever.

She stopped, feeling my gaze. "What?"

"You're cute. That's all."

She stabbed my abs with a finger. "And don't you forget it!"

I laughed as I rolled out of bed. "There's 107 guys who will never forget how cute you are."

She blushed and buried her face in the comforter.

"There's still cum in your hair, by the way."

She groaned. "I'm pretty sure that's yours."

I chuckled as I strolled out. "You are such a slut."

"And you love me for it!" she called out from the bedroom.

Had to stop and think about that. Did I love her despite that or because of it? Why not both? "Yeah, you're not wrong."

I was on autopilot as I got the eggs, bacon and coffee going. She stumbled from the bedroom, comforter wrapped around her, and stopped in the middle of the kitchen.

"I love you," she sighed.

"I know."

Glanced over my shoulder to make sure her father wasn't standing there, waiting to encase me in carbonite. Went back to the eggs a moment later, shaking my head. Yeah, she loved me. She also loved sucking a cock, any cock, more than she loved me.

It stung, but that's just who she was. Gotta take the bad with the good.

Then again, if you'd ever felt her throat around your dick, you'd start to realize that conditional love wasn't necessarily bad. She was an artist and she was committed to her art. I could respect that.

I pulled out the bacon, it was crispy enough, and laid it out on a paper towel like a past girlfriend had instructed me. See, I can learn.

Love... I guess the thing that made it tolerable was that there was no guy that rated higher than me. She loved me. She loved my dick, too, but she loved me. As a person. She'd never loved anybody like she loved me. It was just that... well, she had embraced her obsession-compulsion and now it defined her. And dammit, that turned me on about her.

I guess that was the thing that finally pushed me past the "cuck" annoyance. Not that anybody said it, at least not to my face, not yet, but that would be a side-effect of a slutty girlfriend... or significant other, if that came to that.

But her sluttyness wasn't about me, it was all about her. To me, she was that unicorn: cutesy yet hot, lovable, yet an utter party girl. What was all that layered love to her? Not sure I was ready to unpack all that right now.

Her hand rested on my back. "Are you okay?"

"Shit. Yeah, sorry." I handed her a piece of bacon. "Lost in space."

She pulled up a stool and sat at the counter. The bacon disappeared into a hole in the comforter. "Thinking about last night?"

"Yeah. Thinking about everything."

"Oh." One slender hand slithered out and stole another piece of bacon. "Will I seem clingy if I admit I'm worried?"

"Yes...? But... no. It's complicated." Given everything else, I kinda needed her to be just a little bit clingy. I slid a plate of eggs over. "There's a lot to process."

There was a little tremble in her spork. "Are you having second thoughts?"

I pulled back the comforter, kissed her, and pulled her improvised hoodie back up again. "No. No second thoughts. Yeah, there's stuff... but no..."

"No?"

I leaned down to look up through the bacon hole. "I love you."

She dropped the comforter and wrapped herself around me in a hug. "Thank you. I love you so much!"

Complicated. No words. I just hugged her back.

#

We finished breakfast in silence, showered together but it was more sharing space than anything else. Weirdly, watching her suds up, I was reminded that she wanted to get breast enhancements. That would be interesting.

We got dressed in silence, sat on the new couch, and just stared at each other.

I couldn't help it: I busted out laughing.

She giggled, too, and once she started, it rolled into a moment.

Stress? I don't know.

We finally caught our breath, and I was nodding. Don't even know why. "It's been a crazy week."

"Yeah," she wiped a tear away, still giggling a little.

I leaned back into the couch. "Last night was good. I kinda felt like we needed to reconnect after the week."

Her head rolled a little, a bit self-conscious. "Yeah, me too."

A second later, we made eye contact. Click and lock.

She bit her lip. "This week was crazy. Last night was crazy. Maybe last night was crazier, even though it wasn't that crazy. Weird, right?"

That I kissed both her besties... in front of her? "Yeah, but I know what you mean."

She gave me the Big Eyes. "Where do we go from here?"

"With the girls? No idea. With Travis?" I shrugged. "Funny: of all the randos you coulda picked up that night, it had to be a guy who likes to play games."

"I know, right?!"

This... right here, right now, this moment would set the tone moving forward. The answer just sorta came to me. "You dive down the rabbit hole, Alice. See where it takes you. You know I'll always be your Cheshire."

That lip bite wasn't going away. "No judgment?"

This sounded like a confession. "Fire away."

"The love I have for you is making another part of me want to drive over to Travis' place and suck his cock, like right now."

"Just because you can?"

She nodded, smiling, then caught herself. Then she smiled again... until she started shaking her head. "I can't... that... It's..."

"Easy for you to say."

"No," she shook her head. "It's really not."

"Jesus Christ, I think I just figured it out."

She was wide-eyed: "What?!"

"A buck says part of it, not all of it, but part of it is fear of commitment. You get attached, so you sabotage it."

"Oh, shit..." She leaned back into the couch. "Yeah. No... yeah."

"Or at least that's probably how it all started. I think it's evolved since then, it's its own thing now, but..."

"No. Yeah. Totally." She squinted, thinking hard a moment. "Okay, how do I put this?"

"Travis-related?"

She nodded. "There's no 'Travis' unless there's you, first. And yeah, if he lived next door, I'd totally pop over, suck his cock, and come right back, but he's not... and so I'm thinking more clearly."

I squinted right back at her. "Are you, though?"

Her look was deadpan. "Look, I can't help it that cock is my oxygen."

"Cocksygen?"

"Yes!" she giggled. "I need cocksygen to survive."

"I love that about you."

"Thank you! About time somebody appreciated me for the right things!" She held out a don't-interrupt hand. "What I need, right now, is more 'you' time."

"It's Saturday morning. You got anywhere to be before Monday?"

She shook her head.

"Might be a little chilly for a beach-camp night."

"But I like the beach... especially with you... but you're right."

"We could go up in the mountains for a little regular camping..."

"Ohh," her eyes lit up. "Ooh, but that's a drive for a one-night stay."

"Yeah, true. There's always..."

She leaned in. "What?"

"Vegas?"

"Goddammit, I'm in!"

#

Round trip flights for less than a hundred bucks? Sure! We booked the tickets, then had to book it to the airport. I was friends with some of the other trainers, but the one person I knew who'd jump at the chance to drive us? Carly, the manager at the gym.

I didn't even have the chance to promise her a favor before she hung up on her way out the door.

Carly pulled up to the curb, saw us, and hopped out with a big wave and a smile. "Hey! James... and you must be the 'Lizzie' I keep hearing about!"

Lizzie curtsied. "Carly, is it?"

"Yeah!" She gave Lizzie a once-over, grabbed our roll-ons, and threw them in the back hatch of her Subaru. "Get in, let's go!"

Carly was a volleyball blonde, Valkyrie of the nets, very married, yet she'd been hitting on me from the first day I started work. I think I'd mentioned that to Lizzie, once, but don't know if she remembered. Now, as she pulled away from the curb, she was looking as much at Lizzie in the passenger seat as the traffic ahead.

Well, this was gonna be interesting.

I sat in the back and watched the whole scene unfold. True to form, married Carly was eyeing Lizzie like she was competition.

"James, your girlfriend is so goddamned cute! Tell me you work at Disney! You've got to be Snow White!"

Lizzie shook her head. "No, but I get that a lot. Thank you."

Mutual downloads: Carly learned everything there was to know about my girlfriend, save for the compulsive cock-sucking, and there were hints of that.

Carly shot me a smirk in the rear-view mirror. Couldn't quite pin-point what she was pulling out of that last double-entendre, but this was Carly. It was dirty.

Lizzie was no slouch herself, quizzing Carly on what it was like to be my boss. Then peeling back details on Carly's volleyball college days, her cross-fit obsession, breast cancer and boob replacements (I had no idea), her older ex-football player husband (who was all about the cardio now), and their swinging lifestyle... which I also had no idea about.

Well, that explained a few things.

Lizzie glared at me, then studied Carly. "So you're a swinger, but you... and him... have never...?"

"NO!" Carly huffed. "Not for lack of trying. You've got something, Snow. He's loyal."

Snow?

"Yeah," Lizzie agreed, staring right at Carly's chest. "I know if I were him, I'd be into you..."

"Aww..." The estrogen was spiking. "Thank you!"

Lizzie looked down a moment later, and I knew the face: she was trying to not get emotional

Carly eyed the LAX exit ramp and she focused as we got close. "So, I know the HOTTEST parties in the Valley. Well, in Southern California, actually. We are THE trainers, after all..."

"I gathered that," Lizzie nodded. "Though your star trainer hasn't named names."

"Yeah, James takes his NDAs seriously." Carly maneuvered through traffic. "Say, you two ever work out together?"

"Well, yeah, sorta, all the time," Lizzie giggled. "But in a gym? No. We run together."

"Okay, hun, two things. First, when you want to hit a real party, ask me and I'll hook you up."

"Cool-"

"And second, free gym membership. You probably love where you're at, and it shows... but I would pay to see him as your trainer in my gym."

"That's-"

"Totally selfish on my part," Carly admit. "You're eye-candy. Do you do influencer work?"

"Shut up! I love you!"

"Mutual! But do you?"

"No."

"Well, you should. Wait!" Carly glanced between the two of us. "You two aren't running off to get married, are you?"

"Eloping...?" Lizzie giggled, suddenly flushed. "I think this was more about sinning in Sin City."

Carly shook her head as she gave us both the side-eye. "Marriage is when the fun really begins."

#

We had to check our bags and dash through security. Somehow, "Snow White" got flagged and patted down by a TSA officer at the metal detectors. I thought they were supposed to do that in a back room. I got the feeling it was for the benefit of the rest of the leering mall cops.

That said... it was oddly arousing. There's probably a movie like that, somewhere. "...Sorry, ma'am, a woman fitting your description was fantasized about sucking my cock."

By the time we hit the Spirit gate, the boarding line had already dwindled. "Just in the nick of time."

I glanced out the window and saw a winged banana parked at the end of the jetway. Roughly the same size as one, too. This was going to be a tight flight. Any hanky-panky in the seats was going to be an automatic threesome.

When finally caught our breath: "Sorry. Carly can be a bit much."

"Hey, free ride," Lizzie laughed. "She's... 28, I'm guessing?"

"35, technically, and she likes that people guess younger."

"Aaaand why haven't you two fucked?"

The bearded guy standing in front of us couldn't help but glancing back, his eyes giving Lizzie the same treatment the TSA agent just had.

"Hang on, I need to process that my girlfriend just asked that question."

"Let me guess: you didn't know she was a swinger?"

"Uh, yeah. That. I just thought she was cheating on her husband. She's hot, but I don't need that kind of drama--"

"And yet..." Lizzie interrupted, holding out her hands. "Surprise!"

I shook my head, burying my face in my hand. "I was also going by that old rule to 'not dip your pen in the company inkwell' and all that."

Lizzie whistled and looked away. "Yeah, I've heard that one, too. It's a stupid rule."

I was still deep in a face-palm. "Yeah, you've been changing my mind."

The guy in front of us turned around again, wide-eyed. Not only did he have a beard, his long hair gave him kind of a hippie look.

Lizzie gave him a big, beaming smile and a finger-wave. "Hi, I'm Lizzie!"

"Hey-sus," he responded.

"Of all the flights to Vegas, we're in line behind Jesus."

He smiled as he turned back around. "Hey, man, all you need is love."

#

The cockpit door was already closed, and the engines were warming up. Forgive my visions of her sneaking in and showing the flight deck she was a bit of a cockpit herself.

Okay, that was low... but I think she'd giggle if I were ever stupid enough to say it out loud. Again, I'm sure there's porn of that out there, somewhere.

We were close to the back, and I practically had to walk down the aisle sideways. Any more people on this go-kart and I'd have to get out and push.

Then there was us trying to find space in the overhead storage compartments.

Credit where it's due: even in 6-seat rows built from discarded office chairs, it still beat driving.

Over the PA: "...In the event of a water landing, wade to the edge of the pool and use the ladder to climb out..."

#

We were not in the same row as Jesus, thank God. That would've been awkward. Or interesting.

Buckled in, the conversation picked up right where it left off.

Lizzie leaned in, stage whispering over the jet noise. "...If I were you, I would've fucked her already."

"I know," I nodded. "I'm tempted."

"You should!"

"You're nuts."

We'd had this conversation a couple days ago. She wanted me to fuck around, too, so she didn't feel so guilty. Remember that night of dancing with her friends at Universal CityWalk? Yeah. Remember that whole fear-of-commitment thing? Yeah. That.

Ya know, I was just bright enough to figure out that our situations were as much of a turn-on as the visuals or the touch. It was risky, in so many ways, and here I was: an adrenaline junky. Fuck. Once the door was open, I never really stood a chance.

Now that I stumbled through, I figured out it was all about risk management. Lizzy dealt with the risk of being called a slut in public. Sticks and stones and all that, but depending on the context, it could be a big deal. Or having the wrong guy hit on her, especially at the wrong time. Yeah: sexual assault. Just because she's willing doesn't mean she's obligated.

We weren't really swingers, yet, but it felt like that was coming. So to speak. That she wanted me to fuck Chloe and Claire, without their husbands knowing...? Yeah, it was a drunk admission, but drunk talk is honest. It was also the ultimate Danger Zone material. For her part, it signaled she was willing to deal not only with the slut label, but the cuckquean thing, too.

Lizzie was all-in.

From the guy side? Having a slutty girlfriend, or a hotwife (as Carly bubbled up), meant I might have to deal with being called a cuck in public. It was easy to say "fuck it, don't care" but I had yet to actually deal with it. Guys who really internalize this shit could have a problem.

...And what was I doing right now? Yeah, the fact that I was crammed into an Airbus 320 like a fucking sardine, but all I could think about was Lizzie...? Gonna have to be careful about this.

17 minutes later, we hit cruising altitude. I knew we'd have, maybe, ten minutes like this before we started descent...

I whispered in her ear. "Want to join the Mile-High Club?"

She leaned into me. "Uhh... I'm already in that club."

"Fuuuck."

"Are you actually surprised?!"

"Not even a little," I lied. No, it made perfect sense once I thought about it. Suddenly, imagination was outpacing the plane, picturing what she looked like, with who, and when. "...But I am turned on."

"Good!" She glanced up and down the row. "I should probably pay my dues before they revoke my card."

"Yeah!" Couldn't even come up with a good come-back.

She zeroed in on the back lavatories, then leaned in to kiss me. "Give me two minutes. At two minutes, I'll unlock the door."

We held up watches, started stopwatches, and she sauntered toward the back of the plane, down the long, narrow row. Pretty sure she was humming the theme to Mission:Impossible.

I watched the time climb, and waited... then got out of my seat. It's not illegal if we don't get caught. Had a totally different song playing through my head: Don't be suspicious... don't be suspicious.

There was one stewardess back there. Yeah, I know, 'flight attendant,' but she was hot. Glammed up. Spirit Airline was batting way out of their league with this one, and her vibe was definitely 'sexy stewardess.' For just a second, I really wanted to see if we could fit three people into a john.

We glanced at each other, traded an awkward smile, and both of us saw the "occupied" sign shut off.

"Pardon me," I grinned as reached for the handle.

Suddenly, the stew caught on. She smiled and tapped her lips with her finger as I opened the door.

Just inside, ass. Magnificent, round, firm, slightly tanned ass -- and pussy, just below. Lizzie was standing there, bent over, facing away, leggings around her knees.

"How many guys on this plane would love this view?"

"Most of them," Lizzie answered, "but I've only got time for half."

"Wow."

The stewardess peeked around the corner, then shoved me into the lavatory. "Shhh..."

It was so goddamned hot, I was on sensory overload. The literal timer was on. The pressure was on. Jesus, how do porn stars do it? My dick threatened to cancel the date, but I could still feel the hand-print where the stew had shoved me in. She'd seen Lizzie's naked ass -- her pussy -- before she'd shoved me in.

For some reason, the stewardess seeing my girlfriend got me rock hard all over again. Or her shoving me in and closing the door behind us.

"Jesus-Fuck-Shit, Lizzy," I whispered, "You are just so... goddamned... hot."

She wiggled her ass at me, humming something. Took me a second to realize she was humming "Someday, My Prince Will Come..."

I don't even remember undoing my fly, but suddenly, my dick was deep in the wet. She was pushing against the back wall, eyes squeezed shut, teeth bared, trying not grunt as I pulled her hips with the strength of all seven dwarves.

I don't know if she'd brought a bottle of lube, but she was so wet, we were starting to make obscene plunger noises... and it was awesome.

Gripping her hips, I was sure I was going to leave bruises, but I just didn't care as I yanked her hips back against mine, driving my dick to bottom out over and over.