Blue Snow

"Of course, Jess," I said trying to mask my guilt. She sat on the couch, and scooted away just enough to let me know.

I went through the motions of cutting her cigar for her, teaching her smoking technique. I was going to move back to the armchair when she put a hand on my shoulder, and looked me in the eyes. She smiled then put her lips to the cigar, puffing it, then smiled. With a single hand, she pushed me back against the sofa so I was leaning into the corner, then she laid back into the other corner, bringing her knees up. "Not a bad way to live, shonny," she said and we both shared a laugh and finished the movie, puffing on our smokes.

Bestie Jessie

That was basically our life for the next year. I had been writing even less, but I had something of a companion, and that was nice. She helped me to stay fit, we'd share dinner almost every night, and occasionally she'd even have a cigar with me. We shared our birthdays with each other, and even holidays. She was basically my best friend.

I still had the occasional fantasy about her. After all, she was the only real woman in my life. Sure, some of them were raunchy, visions of me doing violent things to her cunt, pushing her down against the bed and holding her down by her bare stomach. She'd look at me lustfully telling me with a look to do it. I'd stick my fingers inside of her, curling them up and jackhammering her until she squirted all over me...

But more so then not, they were fantasies filled with gentle kisses starting at my cheek, over and over. We'd be sitting on the couch watching a movie giving each other a backrub. She'd get startled and put her hands back onto my stomach, but now it was flat, all thanks to her. She'd nibble on my earlobe as I heard her breathing into it, her hands roving up my body, up to my chest, under my shirt, her soft hands making me melt and rise at the same time.

I'd guide her onto her back as she'd lay on the couch, not breaking eye contact with me the whole time. I'd kiss her cheek, all over until I reached the corner of her lips. There'd be a long road to travel from one corner to the other as my hand would find its way down her stomach, the soft fabric of a silk thong. My hand would push under the elastic and I'd feel how bare she was down there, skin as soft as her hands... until I pressed upon her wetness. She'd moan onto my lips. I'd moan onto hers as I rubbed little circles while planting more kisses. She'd run her hands through me, rustle my hair before grabbing at it in a frenzy. She'd whisper, "I love you," and I'd suck on her neck. Gentle and small licks, tracing fingers digging to bone. She'd guide me inside her saying "Please more don't stop." I'd give her long slow strokes pushing inside and out. Then she'd ride me as I'd just watch the way her face would writhe in ecstasy...

She would cum for me every time I came. Then I'd sleep off the guilt because we were just friends. And for that I was already grateful.

...The crew had been reunited. Our heroine has been struggling with her feelings towards the captain as she's still coping with the aftermath of her run in with the Cromion crew, where in the last book she had been raped and held captive. Our heroine is still jumpy around some of her male crewmates which causes tension aboard the ship and some infighting. All this while they try to complete their latest mission of... I had no idea what their latest mission would be. And truthfully, I hadn't really been focusing on it. It didn't seem to matter as much, not that it mattered all that much to begin with.

But there was another part of me that knew it did matter. I had a loyal fan base who would write to me, and put food on my table, and afford me Jessie.

I had noticed that there wasn't a set schedule she would follow. There were days she would only go into town for a couple hours before coming back home. Other days where she would be gone longer than any regular shift would take. I made it a point not to pry as the life we had together was still good.

She'd stay out of my way, spending the bulk of her time in her room while I would write while waiting for yoga, or running, or dinner. The truth was I would love to spend time with her. When she would go into town, I'd miss her. Even when she'd leave me after bringing coffee I would miss her. I so looked forward to the moments we'd get to hang out, and the anticipation was distracting.

One night, I had been anticipating TV after dinner. She put the plates away and started to head straight to her room. I asked if she was mad at me but she told me she just had some things she was in the middle of. I didn't think anything of it, but it started to become a regular occurrence. It hurt me when I realized it became regular, that there was less Jessie for me, but I came to terms with it. After all, she was her own person.

I was in the study, door locked with headphones on. I'd been particularly fond of tall blondes the past year in my porn searches. During the shots where there was just the girl bouncing on the guy's dick with their face out of view, I'd imagine it was Jessie. It was even better if they had a husky voice like hers, but that was pretty rare as most porn actors raise their voices up an octave or three.

But the amateurs were my favorite. Their voices were the most real, let alone the sounds they would make during sex. The faceless ones were the best, of course; the ones who would keep their faces out of view, that is. I was in the middle of stroking it, an array of porn tabs open when there was a girl that looked a lot like Jessie in one of the videos. I wanted more of her, so I scrolled down looking for a name in the comments.

In a new tab, I looked up MiaLolita then looked through some of the related videos from the video I just watched, a few strokes to keep myself hard. "BestieJessie plays with herself live," caught my eye. First it was the title, of course, but the girl in the thumbnail looked more like Jessie than the girl in the video I just watched.

Excitedly, I clicked the link. I impatiently sat through five seconds of the advertisement before the video, but then there was a shot of the room. The angle was strange, but that definitely looked a lot like Jessie's room, done up the same way I had seen it last!

Then, without a shot of her face, Jessie sat in the chair. You could only see from the neck down and the waist up. But I recognized the sports bra immediately. My stomach dropped, and I quickly hit the spacebar.

I couldn't believe it. I looked around the study, then back to the screen. I knew it was her, but knew I shouldn't watch it. I looked past her at the room. It was the same blue wallpaper, the same bed, and the same sheets she slept on. There was virtually no chance that this was anybody but Jessie and I felt sick.

My cock was rock hard, throbbing, really, in my hand, and as if to shield it, I pressed it down between my thighs as if to hide it. I sat back in my chair and just saw the paused screen. "BestieJessie plays with herself live."

My mind was racing. Had I really not been paying her enough. Clearly, that was a mistake, and I would have to pay her more. Was that all it was? Money? Maybe she was lonely and needed more attention than from that of someone my age? But surely, the guys on here must vary from my age and even much older. I suddenly felt a hatred for all males in the world. A sorrow and an anger towards her parents. Society as a whole. I had an intense desire to keep playing the video, to see what those forbidden parts of hers really looked like and how close they were to my own imagination and I chastised myself for having the desire to see it. After all, this was my Jessie. My friend Jessie. My best friend... I had called her that once, during a drunken cigar night that I didn't have any friends like her. Is that where she got the name? Furthermore, how could she be so naive as to use her actual name as her handle.

I hit the space bar, and she stood up. She was wearing her same running shorts. I felt worse. Sicker, yet harder as my cock wanted to burst from between my legs. I was still holding it down, squeezing my legs together, willing it to go away. Those were her legs. That was her body. Then... "I actually did just get back from my run. How else do you think I stay so tight like this?" she said extending her leg for the camera. It was her voice. It was definitely her voice. It was definitely Jessie. I couldn't stand it, and I closed the tab, then the whole browser.

Elbows on my bare knees, I bent over, one arm across my diminishing stomach, one hand holding my forehead. I focused on my breath like Jessie had taught me during Yoga. I tried denying it was her, but I knew. I ripped the headphones from off my head and it clattered onto my desk. I was shaking, and I don't know why something like this would make me shake.

My erection went away after a few minutes and I put on my pants and a shirt and walked out of the study down to her room. I had to talk to her. I raised a fist to pound on her door when I heard her say, "Hold on. I think Mr. Hawthone just left his study... What? No. I like working for him. He's a great guy. No. He can never know... Oh yeah, I suck his cock for him all the time. How else would he get his inspiration," she said with fake laughter.

I was clearly Mr. Hawthorne and she was making up this fantasy for her audience. "How big is it? I don't want to tell you," she said with a nervous laugh. "It's average," she lied. "And it's curved at the end so it hits my g-spot," another sickening fake laugh. But I was hard again. Then she started moaning. "No, I can't. He'll hear me." Another moan. "I'd fuck you hard right now, if you were here. Shhh. Just don't tell Mr. Hawthorne." I was rock hard again.

My fist opened up and I put my hand on the posts as I pushed it down. "Yeah, that feels sooo good, hawkeye. Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you" the moaning of her voice tilted up, getting higher in tone. "Thank you." Higher, "Thank you. Come on, boys, I'm almost there. I just need you to push me over the top!" My hand was on my dick. Disgustedly, I pulled it out and started stroking myself. "Aw, slick rick. Ambrose, hawkeye, keep me going. Keep it going. Almost there," she said, extending out the last word with a strained voice. I felt the heat in my face, I was stroking myself vigorously now, eyes clenched, body flexed and hunched over while on my toes.

"Oh," she squealed high pitched, "My!" higher, "God!" Then I heard the chair shifting, moving and I could only imagine her writhing in her chair as my cum shot onto the door post before I cupped my hand over the tip of my cock, cum shooting through my shaft as I let out quick sharp breaths I heard her quick sharp breaths. Another high pitched, "Oh my god. Oh my god." then lower. "Oh my god. Oh my god, that was so good." there was a squishing noise as she gave her audience some short little laughs. Then her voice more sultry than I had ever heard. Half an octave lower than she normally spoke. "Look what you made me do."

I was gasping. I held my cum in one hand, pulled my pants up and wiped the cum off the post. Then I tiptoed away back to my study. I texted her the coffee emoticon after I opened up the document containing my book. I hated myself as I sat there.

She arrived a few minutes later, steaming mug in her hand. Her cheeks were flushed, but other than that there was nothing on her face to indicate what she had just done. I hid the guilt on my face with a smile as she walked in.

"Thank you so much, Jess," I said as I glanced at her face, although I couldn't stand to look into her eyes. Not after what I'd just done.

"You alright?" she asked before she ran her hand through my hair. I shuddered feeling an aftershock down my spine.

"Yeah, sorry. Just... I just did another horrible thing to one of the characters in my book."

"Aww," she said, her soft hand on the back of my neck. I wondered if that was the hand she had been doing it with. Or if it was just one of those hands free vibrators the cam girls wear. "Liquor and cigar night?"

I looked up at her. She was so sweet to me. Could Mr. Hawthorne be more than a performance tool for her audience? History had made me believe this was highly unlikely. I tried to keep eye contact, but even that made me shutter and I had to look away. "I don't know."

"Come on. I could use a drink myself... and a smoke for that matter. You can tell me all about how sorry you are for what you've done, then I'll do my old timey gangster. I even got one of those hats."

I looked up at her, "A hat?"

"You know, pinstripe fedora, gangster costume. Want me to wear it for you?" she said with a glint in her eye.

I laughed through my nose. "You're all done with your thing, then?"

She lifted her eyebrows and sucked her teeth. "Yup. All done. I'm all yours."

I wanted to say Bestie Jessie, but I was sure I never could again.

She wore a pinstripe suit with a matching skirt and hat. The fedora had a little bow on it, hair tucked up inside. She even had her makeup done with red lipstick and an accent of mascara on the corners of her eyes. She posed in the doorway after putting the cigar in her mouth. "Eachya heart out," she said.

My stomach dropped. I had a need to tell her that I knew, but the way she stood had me spinning. I sat silently as she went through an array of different poses while swigging away at the bottle of Crown. I felt a pang in my heart as I watched her. Her face was so bright, she was so cheerful and playful. She brought over the bottle and sat on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Why so glum chum?"

This really surprised me as she'd never done that before. I couldn't help but smile. The way her skin felt against my neck... I wanted to kiss her so badly. It was in that moment that I knew I had fallen in love with her, that I had been in love with her and as it dawned on me I just watched her face, and every movement became so precious.

The way her eyes would squint as she'd laugh. The tiny slope of her nose you would never notice unless you really looked at it. Her sunken cheeks, and of course that mouth. I was sure she belonged in magazine ads and the silver screen. But she was here. Somehow I got lucky and got to experience being in her presence first hand. It was a truth so terrible I couldn't contain it...

She brought out the ashtray and cut the cigars, taking care to toast the foot of them properly. She poured my drink for me and we cheersed. "So. Tell me." she said.

"About what?"

"You said you're sad about your character."

"Eh, it's the same old thing."

"How bad did you kill who?"

I chuckled. "Nobody died today."

She lifted her glass into the air. "Don't leave me hanging!"

I smiled and lifted my glass and clanked her glass. We both sipped, eyes meeting each others, not a foot away. I could smell the liquor on her breath. She squinted looking into my eyes and I was afraid she'd see it... that she'd see me.

She kissed my forehead and got off of my lap, sitting in the chair next to me. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked.

"Do whatever you want."

She squinted again, pressing her lips thin. I just stared, wishing, no, hoping she felt the same.

The next day she knocked on the door of my study. I had the document to the current book open, but I couldn't think of anything to write. "Come in," I said, putting my hands on the keyboard.

She was holding the mats and she looked at me. "Come on," she said.

I put my hands on my lap and took a breath before looking at her. She looked so tall, like a shot out of a magazine with her running shoes on, thin legs that extended to those thin grey shorts, wide hips... then there was that top again.

"Maybe tomorrow," I said.

"Oh, come on, I don't want to do this by myself."

"Well, you don't always get what you want," I said with a curtness.

She went rigid but she was looking down at me. There was a long silence before she finally said. "You hungover?"

"What does that have to do with anything."

"Look, if you don't want to work out, forget it."

"Maybe I don't," I said.

Her head tilted and her eyebrows furrowed. "Fine, get all fat again, what do I care?"

"Excuse me?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I mean... Sorry, I'm just hung..."

"Do I work for you?"

"What?"

"Do I. Work for. You. Or was it the other way around."

She scoffed, "Look, where is this coming from?"

"Answer the question."

Her shoulders slumped, and I saw her bottom lip quiver. "The other way," she said quietly, like a little girl who was in trouble.

I looked at her and saw the hurt in her face. "Fuck," I said.

Her voice was shaky, "Look, If you're in a bad mood, or if... If I did something. Like... Did I mess something up?"

I closed my eyes and sighed, shaking my head down at the floor. "No... I'm... No. You didn't."

"Then, why are you mad... Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not. I just..." I looked up at her and she looked at me, then down at the ground with a scared little face. I felt so horribly. "I just... I'm taking something out on you... It's this book."

"You've never done that before."

"I know. I'm sorry. Could you... come on. Let's go work out."

"No, it's okay."

"No. I'm sorry. It'll be good for me. Let's go."

She looked up. "If that's what you want."

She laid out the mats and we followed the video routine in silence. I felt her look my way a couple of times, but I was too ashamed to look at her. All I could think of was the things she said. How she acted like she did nothing wrong. For no good reason, I felt betrayed.

We went through the motions of our lives. Dinners with forced conversations. Running and Yoga that were now mainly just running and Yoga. Coffee was just delivered, like the old days, and she'd just disappear. Movies with cigars in silence. But mostly she stayed in her room and when she went into town she was gone all day, sometimes past when I'd go to sleep. The worst part was knowing.

There were a couple weeks I couldn't bring myself to jack off, and a couple months where I couldn't bring myself to watch any porn. I'd just watch my Jessie wander around the kitchen like a ghost. I hated her.

I locked the door to my study. I opened up the browser and a few tabs of porn. It was back to regular porn stars with fake tits and overacting. Peta Jensen was looking into the camera with her blue eyes, looking at me saying, "Yeah, let me suck that big cock. I want it all." I was stroking it, "Yeah, it's so big, I want it to hurt," as she straddled the muscular body in front of her, grabbing at the dick and easing herself onto it. Big titties bouncing with that tiny frame.

"Jessie," escaped my lips. "Oh fuck yeah, Jess," I said as I stroked myself. Then I stopped, watching Peta put on her performance. I move the cursor to the search bar and typed in "BestieJessie". My pinky finger hovering over the enter key. I hit it.

There were only ten videos that came up. "BestieJessie dances in the nude," "Bestie Jessie plays with her tits for you." "JOI with BestieJessie," "Stripshow..." etc.

I hovered over a thumbnail. It was her face. She was holding a dildo, stroking it in front of the camera. Then it cut to her sucking on it. I hovered over "Stripshow by BestieJessie." I leaned in, squinting at the little thumbnail. I clicked.

She had on headphones with a long wire. She was looking into the camera, laughing and talking back to whoever. Then she sat up. "Well, you get what you pay for," she said. She moved back from her chair and she put on a song I had never heard with a hip hop beat.

She had on those short shorts, a velour zip up jacket I had seen a few times and her hair in a ponytail. She started gyrating her hips with the rhythm of the music. She slapped her ass and the sound made my cock jump. I was gripping it, holding it in place, as if to try to squeeze all the blood from it.