Breaking Jessi Ch. 03

I woke sometime early Thursday morning and didn't know who was in bed with me. Without making a conscious decision to do so, I rolled to my feet, a scream on my lips. Then I saw Sheri, blinking at me as she sat up.

"What's wrong?" she asked, reminding me of when she had asked the same thing hours earlier when I'd been crying.

"Nothing. Scared myself."

"How'd you do that," the strawberry blonde girl asked, lying on her back and stretching, the thin material of her borrowed sleepshirt pulling tight against her tits, revealing hard, thick nipples.

"I didn't know who you were at first."

"Ah, I've had that happen, usually when I pick up a girl or guy when I'm drunk."

"Do you do that a lot?"

"Why? You worried about being with a sleazebag ho?"

"No," I laughed, liking the feel of the smile on my lips. "Mainly because I'm probably at least as much of a sleazebag ho myself."

"Oh, I doubt that," Sheri grinned "I have a few years' worth of bad decisions on you."

"Maybe," I shrugged as the strawberry blonde girl turned on her side and patted the bed.

"Trust me. Now, come back to bed."

"My alarm will go off in less than thirty minutes," I told her, wishing I could do as she asked. "Not worth going back to sleep for that long."

"I wasn't thinking we'd sleep."

"Oh," was all I managed, surprised at myself for not picking up sooner what the other girl intended.

"So, you going to stand there or come get this?" she asked when I didn't move.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Sheri pulled the nightshirt up to her neck, revealing her shaved pussy and her soft, round, freckled boobs. I licked my dry lips, fully aware that my lower lips were in the exact opposite condition.

"Come get that," I told her, my voice huskier than I'd expected.

I pulled off my nightshirt and tossed it aside as I climbed back into bed. Sheri did the same with her shirt, so we were both completely naked when I straddled her, pushing my tits against her chest and mashing our lips together. Sheri grabbed my ass, pulled my groin closer against her own, and wiggled her tongue into my mouth before I could do the same to her. for several seconds, we battled it out. Finally, I let her win, sucking on her tongue as she thrust it in and out.

"You ever do the rubbing pussies together thing?" a breathless Sheri asked me when we took a break.

"No. You?"

"Tried once. Didn't work that well. But I kinda don't want to stop kissing you."

"Here, turn on your side," I suggested, doing the same.

"Okay, now what?"

I held my hand up, wiggled my fingers, then reached between her legs, tracing her labia before slipping two digits inside her vadge. Sheri bit her bottom lip, then her fingers were on my shaved mound, sliding their way down until she thrust them inside of me.

"Oh, that'll work," the freckle-faced girl moaned.

"Yeah, it will," I breathed, using my thumb to find her clit while adding a third finger to the two already fucking her.

"But aren't we supposed to be kissing?" Sheri pouted as she tried to follow my lead. She couldn't get a third finger inside me, however, so she settled for using her thumb on my clit and ramming two fingers into my cunt even faster and harder than I was doing to hers.

I didn't bother replying, other than to lock my lips on her bottom one and pull on it. Sheri moaned again, then our tongues returned to the earlier contest. But I didn't give in to her like before, and by the time my body tensed from a small but very pleasurable orgasm, I figured my tongue had been past her lips maybe twice as much as hers had made it past mine.

"I'm... almost... there... too...," she panted, her hands now pushing my thumb harder against her button, as I'd let up a little while I came. Shaking off the after-orgasm laziness that threatened to set in, I pulled my hand away, twisted around, buried my head between her legs, and sucked her clit between my lips all before she could ask what I was doing.

"Oh God yes!" Sheri said, hands in my hair.

Seconds later, as I attacked her most sensitive spot with my tongue, Sheri shuddered and mewled while her face, neck, and chest flushed. When her breathing began to return to normal, I kissed her clit and labia, then shoved my tongue into her pussy once before I sat up and swept my hair back from where it had fallen in front of my face.

"No fair," the strawberry blonde girl sighed. "Now I owe you."

"Why? You came and I came. Seems fair to me."

"You used your tongue. I only used my fingers."

"I used my fingers to get you most of the way. Besides, it felt very good coming on your fingers. So, don't think you owe me nothing."

"Maybe."

"No maybes. And I gotta get ready for work now."

"So that's it? You've had your way with me and you're kicking me to the curb?" Sheri chuckled, her tits shaking with her laughter and making me wish I could stay there with her all day.

"Something like that. I'd ask you to shower with me, but I know I'd be late."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the hint," she sighed, getting out of bed. "Can you throw me my clothes?"

I gathered them up from where we had discarded them the night before—scattered across my floor—and tossed them onto the bed. Sheri picked them up, then looked at me.

"Can I take a piss before you start your shower?"

"Sure," I shrugged.

Clothes in hand, Sheri moved past me. As she did, I smacked her toned, rounded ass. The other girl gave me what I was sure was a put-on look of shock before she grinned and sashayed into the bathroom. I followed, walking by her to turn on the shower as she sat on the toilet.

"Privacy," she teased, closing her legs.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, slut," I shot back as I waited for the water to warm up.

"No reason to be a bitch about it," Sheri grinned.

"You just going to sit there?"

"Yeah, until you're in the shower."

"Like I haven't seen your cunt before."

"Yeah, but I don't wipe in front of anyone," she said, and I heard enough seriousness beneath the light tone that I understood why she was waiting.

"Okay, okay," I said, holding up my hands in defeat. "I'll give you a little privacy."

I stepped into the now steamy shower stall and closed the door. Through the frosted glass, I saw Sheri get up and heard the sink faucet run. Then she was gone. Closing my eyes, I worked shampoo into my hair and wondered if she would wait around until I was done with my shower. A second later, a blast of cold air hit me when the shower door was yanked open.

"What the fuck," I snarled, opening my eyes to see a dressed Sheri standing there.

"Just wanted to say goodbye," she laughed. "And see that hot little body one more time."

"Privacy," I snapped, putting one arm over my tits and covering my pussy with my other hand.

"Please, like I haven't seen your snatch and tits before."

"I don't like that word," I said even as I gave up the pretense of modesty and dropped my arms to my side.

"Tits?"

"You know better than that. The other one."

"Snatch?"

"Yeah. That and the 't' word."

"What 't' word?"

"Twat. Can we talk about this later when you're not letting cold air into my shower?"

"Sure, sexy," Sheri laughed. "Oh, and next time I'm gonna lick that sweet snatch of yours."

"Ugh" was all I managed to say before she blew me a kiss, waved, and shut the shower stall door.

***

The high from being with Sheri lingered through the morning. But after lunch, I began to worry about the plans we had made for Saturday night. I tried to make myself concentrate on my data entry, but that only worked fifteen or twenty minutes at a time before the brain bugs slithered out of hiding. Once they were scurrying around inside my head, it would take me at least ten more minutes to drive them back into the shadows.

What was worrying me was not the idea of picking up a couple of guys to share with Sheri—that continued to turn me on. No, the issue that was stirring up the millipedes was my fear that something would happen when we did, like they'd both want Sheri and not me. That kind of fear was mostly foreign to me. Other than when my ex had fucked my friend's pussy during a threesome, despite them both knowing that was supposed to be off limits, I'd never been worried like that about another girl taking all the attention even when there was only one guy involved.

Mark did a real number on your already fucked up head, a chorus of brain bugs suggested, and while I didn't want to believe it was true, I was afraid it was. My ex had ended our relationship and chosen his other lover, a brunette with big tits. And although Sheri's breasts were not as large as my formal rival for Mark's attention, they were still a lot bigger than mine. And that had me worried in a way I'd never really been worried before.

I thought about taking my anti-anxiety medication, but it was sure to make me sleepy, and I still had a couple of hours to go at work. An image of a bottles of tequila bounced around my mind for a few seconds, but not only did I not have any with me, but I was also positive that drinking on the job would likely leave me unemployed. A light tap on the back of my chair yanked me out of my thoughts.

"You look like you feel better today, Jessica," my boss said after I swiveled to look at him.

"Thanks, Karl. I feel better."

"Very good," he replied, that goofy smile of his breaking across his face and ensuring I wouldn't feel the unwanted attraction I had felt the day before. "I wanted to talk to you about that sick time issue. You could come in on Saturday if you want to make up time. Cami will be here from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm, and she can let you in."

Cami was a lead worker who usually came in on Saturdays. I did so myself from time to time, either because I needed a weekday off or because the data I'd be tasked with entering needed to be in by a certain day. I'd even done it before to make up for a sick day, but I'd been told a few weeks earlier that we would not be allowed to do so going forward.

"That would be great," I grinned, resisting rubbing his bare forearm. "But I thought we weren't supposed to do that anymore."

"I can make case-by-case exceptions," Karl shrugged.

"Thank you. I appreciate it," I told him, wondering if there was something he wanted in exchange, wondering whether he might have picked up on the odd attraction I'd felt toward him the day before. But all he did was flash that goofy smile, give me a thumbs up, and walk away. If he wanted anything in return, he was not communicating that to me.

My first response was relief, but then a few millipedes came out to play, and I found myself pondering why he didn't want anything in return. My rational brain tried to tell me it was because he was my boss and had a girlfriend I knew he was serious about, but my anxiety cast it in terms of there being something wrong with me that made him not find me attractive. And that frightened me, because of all the things I'd been anxious about over the years, being unattractive to guys hadn't been one of them.

Sure, I was well aware that I was not every guy's type. But I'd never worried that a particular guy might not want to fool around with me. They either did or they didn't, and it never impacted me one way or the other except for trying to pick the right guys. But here I was sitting at work anxious because my bass hadn't tried to exchange a favor for sex.

"Mark, you fucked me up even more than I was," I whispered to the universe, longing to be home with my tequila.

***

I didn't get sloppy drunk on Thursday night, but I was far from sober when I went to bed. Well, went to bed is the wrong way of putting it. I passed out watching a movie and didn't wake until my bladder nearly burst a little after 3:00 am. After taking a much needed piss, I made myself drink a glass of water before I went back to sleep. And when I stumbled into my shower three and a half hours later, I was only a little hung over.

Pounding iced coffee was the only way I made it through Friday morning, but I knew by lunch that the caffeine from the morning had conspired with the alcohol from the night before to leave me dehydrated with a splitting headache. I considered asking Karl if I could go home for a few hours and come back in the evening to finish my shift, but he'd been so nice the day before when he told me I could come in on Saturday to make up some of I missed time that I didn't want to push my luck. Plus, I was worried that he might say 'yes' and not want anything in return, and in my state, I was sure I'd start obsessing on why he didn't seem to want to coerce me into sex.

So, I toughed out the afternoon, with the help of ibuprofen and plenty of water. When 5:00 pm came, I headed home. But instead of going there, I went for pizza. And while I ate, I thought about texting Sheri. I knew she was working, but I needed to talk to someone, and more importantly, fuck someone who was into me.

I had no doubt I could find a willing guy, but I didn't want just any guy. I wanted someone to make me feel like I was the first choice, not just a willing mouth and pussy. Sheri would do that if she were free. And Mark would've when we were together, even though he had his other slut too. But Sheri was busy, and I knew I'd never fuck Mark again. That left Colton, my pussy of a next-door neighbor.

You aren't being fair to him, I chastised myself. He's a nice, caring guy.

Yeah, one who doesn't know how to fuck without directions, another part of me responded, the fucked-up slut part, which was really most of me.

The fucked-up slut won, in a sense. She very much would've liked to fuck, but Colton wasn't what she needed. And since the rest of me was unwilling to find some rando guy, I took what was left of my pizza to go and went home. I didn't knock on Colton's door when I got there. I went right into my apartment, put the pizza in the fridge, and pulled down a bottle of tequila. But despite the allure of the amber liquid, I didn't drink any of it. I just stared at it as my thoughts churned.

After several minutes, I made up my mind. If I wasn't going to get laid, I needed to take my anti-anxiety medicine. The alcohol would help me relax and keep the brain bugs at bay, but it wouldn't help my horniness at all. In fact, it'd make it worse. The medicine, on the other hand, tended to suppress my sex drive, and that was what I needed.

I took the pills with a glass of water, then settled onto my bed to watch TV. I must've been more tired than I thought, however, because I didn't even make it through one show before falling asleep.

***

When my alarm woke me Saturday morning, I was amazed that I'd slept over nine hours without waking up once. I didn't even remember having any dreams. I knew part of that was the medicine, but I was sure part was the lack of alcohol the day before.

When I looked at my phone, I saw Sheri had texted me several times the night before. The texts mainly gave me details about where and when we would get together for the night's fun. She wanted to meet at the club at 8:30, and she suggested we both Uber it there so neither of us would have to leave our car.

"Can't w8t," I texted her, along with a devil emoji.

"Yep same," she replied. "Gettin ready 4 my AM shift."

"Me 2."

She didn't respond, and I didn't expect her to as she'd said she was getting ready. Besides, I had to do that myself. Not that it was that big a deal on Saturdays. I threw on jeans and an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of flats. And after applying minimal makeup, I put my hair in a ponytail. After all, the only other person at work would be Cami, and she'd be dressed like me.

Once I got to work, Cami and I exchanged "hellos" before going to our respective cubicles. We were always pleasant to each other, but we were not friendly. Cami was a couple of years older than me and a lead worker. She was also a bit overweight with mousy brown, shoulder length hair, and a bad case of resting bitch face. The best thing I could say about her was that I knew she'd leave me alone.

In addition to not having to deal with other people, one of the nice things about Saturdays was I could put in my earbuds and crank the music. On regular days, we were allowed to listen to music through headphones or earbuds, but it couldn't be so loud that we weren't able to hear if someone came to talk to us. But on evenings and the weekend, no one cared.

Around 10:00 am, a text popped up on my phone. When I saw the name and number, I felt my stomach try its best to drop out of my body. Hands trembling, I picked up the phone and read the text from Mark.

"Hey, Jessi. I just wanted to see how you are doing."

I licked my suddenly parched lips, which stood in contrast to my clammy skin. I couldn't believe that he'd texted me. After everything we'd said, after what he'd done choosing her, he'd texted me. But that was not the worst of the situation. The worst was that a warm wetness had started soaking my panties the moment I saw his name.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... a billion millipedes chanted as they invaded my previously calm mind.

Texting him back would be a mistake. I was certain of that. But it was what I wanted to do. Employing what I believed was considerable personal restraint, I put my phone face down on my desk and went back to work. Of course, I made many mistakes over the next hour, but I was slowly able to push my thoughts of Mark to the background. And I kept it up until lunchtime, when I turned over my phone and saw he had texted again, the message almost exactly the same.

"I need a fucking drink," I whispered to no one while I stared at the phone.

For a few seconds, I considered running out for lunch and getting an airplane size bottle of tequila. I was sure Cami would neither notice nor care. But in the end, my more rational mind won, and I stayed in and ate the pizza I'd brought from home, drinking nothing but water.

***

I received two more texts from Mark while I was at work, one around 2:00 pm and one a little after 4:00 pm. By that time, I handled them better, at least in terms of my immediate response to each text. But I knew from my greatly reduced productivity that their impact on me couldn't be denied. And after struggling through those last few hours at work, it was with considerable relief that I said goodbye to Cami and headed home.

Once there, I fixed a sandwich for dinner. And I didn't drink anything but water since I knew I would be having plenty to drink later at the club. I didn't take my medicine either, however, so it was difficult to keep the Mark millipedes from stomping across every other thought I had. Hoping for some relief from my thoughts, I tried to distract myself by watching TV. It didn't really work. A little before 7:00 pm, a text from Sheri came in, and that did the trick.

"Headed home 2 get ready. U thinkin about 2 guys 2 share? I know I am."

As if by magic, my swarming thoughts about my ex were subsumed in wickedly vivid fantasies of what it might be like to have a cock in my pussy and my mouth at the same time. Yeah, he was still in my mind, a disapproving figure warning me not to go through with what I hoped would happen later. But his voice had almost no impact on me.

Going to my closet, I pulled out the short, form-fitting black dress I'd bought for a date with Mark before I'd decided on a more elegantly sexy dress. But I'd modeled the black slutty one for him later that night. I'd worn a padded push-up bra then to give me much more cleavage than I'd normally have, but I decided against that for this occasion. The dress had spaghetti straps and the pushup bra was white, so its straps would have been quite obvious. More importantly, I did not want to sell anything I couldn't back up. So instead, I opted for no bra.