Corruption of a Geek Goddess Pt. 02

"Yes, honey, he's here. He's watching me right now..."

"Mmmm, oh my god, Chelz..."

"Are you mad, baby?"

"No, I could never be mad at you. Whatever you need, I understand."

"Oh, thank you, Mark. I have the best... little boyfriend in the world. Do you like this? You like knowing your girl jumps into someone else's bed as soon as your back is turned?"

"You know I do... I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize, it's ok... and I do know. Are you already hard for me, for your slutty girlfriend?"

"Unh... yes..."

"Ha, yeah, I knew that too, it's like flipping a switch with you. Go ahead and touch it, take it out, it's ok... I want you to have your fun, it's the least I can do... because I'm about to have mine..." She'd had so much practice with this kind of roleplay that it was easy to slip back into Evil Chelsea mode, even with an audience. Automatically, Chelsea's free hand came up to rub her breasts through her top -- in spite of herself, she was getting into it.

"Oh god, Chelsea... what's he gonna do to you?"

"Hmmm... what do you think he's gonna do?"

"I think... oh god, I think... he's gonna -- oh fuck!"

"Heheh, oh no, sweetie, are you about to cum already? I guess you really aren't mad after all."

"No. No, I didn't cum, I just... had to slow down."

"That's good, baby, you take your time, try to last as long as you can. But... you see why I need this, don't you? Why I need someone who doesn't pop off like a teenager?"

"Fuck, I know, I get it... if I was there I'd lick you, for as long as you want... fuck I want to taste you..."

"That's right, if you were here I'd let you lick it, you could still make me happy that way. You're so good with your tongue. But, baby... you're not here. You're not here, and I need a nice hard cock."

She was absentmindedly rubbing her crotch through her pants now. Without meaning to, Chelsea was quickly talking herself into this. She'd become so accustomed to getting off to these sick little games they played, and she'd come to enjoy it so much, that it was too easy to forget where she was and just slip back into her new role. Every day since her night with Dylan, the two versions of her -- the real Chelsea who hated the mistake she'd made, and the fantasy Chelsea she'd created to indulge Mark and make sense of that mistake -- grew closer and closer together. Now they were in danger of fusing into one, but Chelsea was too horny to notice.

A loud, feminine yelp came from Cody's room next door, surely the result of something terribly wrong and sexual happening to her friend.

"What was that?" Mark asked. Without thinking, Chelsea answered truthfully.

"Hmm? Oh, that's just Nora -- she's about to get fucked next door. Mmm, I messed up so bad, babe... I accidentally corrupted her, turned her into a slut like me..."

"Oh my god, Chelz," he muttered. Mark was impressed by his girlfriend's quick thinking, turning a stray noise into a new part of the fantasy. But he was still eager to get back to his main obsession: "Chelsea, baby... what's Dylan doing?"

"Hmmm... he's still just watching me, listening. Oh nooo, I think he's about to come over... he's gonna do awful things to your girl, Mark... I'm not sure I'll be able to stop him. I don't think you're able to protect me... and I want it so bad..."

"Fuck... it's ok, honey, you deserve it... What's he doing now?"

"Ohh, he's coming over, coming to claim your bride... he's so big & strong, baby... he's climbing on the bed, taking off my shoes... Mmm, he's just rubbing my feet... moving up to my calves... relaxing me... getting me ready..."

Her eyes shut, synapses firing like little A-bombs, Chelsea was lost in this fantasy world of her own creation, cut off from reality -- for all intents & purposes, she was altered. That night months ago when Dylan had too-easily seduced her, she was drunk on wine. Tonight she was drunk only on lust, supercharging her imagination. The real world was forgotten, and the dream scenario she described to her fiancé was so real to her then. She could almost feel the hands of her phantom lover on her body... and it was delicious.

Only when her eyes fluttered open did she snap back to reality: it felt real because it was real. Dylan was sitting on her bed, just like she said; was massaging her feet and her calves, just as she'd described. He'd decided to take her make-believe descriptions of a make-believe Dylan as instructions, as permission. He wanted to make it real, all of it.

"Ah!" Chelsea yelped in surprise, shooing him away with her hand and trying to pull her leg back. Dylan merely smiled and shook his head No. 'Keep going,' he mouthed.

"What was that?" Mark asked her.

"Nothing, he's touching me... still. It's bad..." She glared at Dylan but he didn't stop. With a great act of willpower she might have made him stop for real. But Mark and his fantasy distracted her, sapping what little resolve she still possessed.

"Mmm... it's fine, Chelz. It's not bad. He can touch you, just... tell me everything. Please." Mark heard a pained whimper come from his future wife. "What does he do next?"

"He... fuck. His... hands are, um, gliding up my thighs... massaging, stroking... making their way up to my... belt -- oh, my god, Mark..." Everything she said Dylan would make real, his hands now taking hold of her upper thighs, threatening to go higher. She couldn't advance Mark's fantasy roleplay without also hastening Dylan's reconquest of her own body. No, no, no; why aren't you stopping this Chelsea? Just make it stop... you have to stop. Right?

"Oh my god, Chelz... it's so hot. You're so sexy, I love you so much."

"I love you, too..."

"Mmmm, what are you gonna let him do? Do you want to fuck him?"

"I don't... I don't know if that's a good idea... "

"Ohhh, Chelz... I kinda like the reluctance, makes it seem more real. But you've got me so wound up, I want to hear more... what's he doing now?"

"He's... his hands, he's touching my belt, undoing it... oh, shit..."

"Oh wow, I can hear your belt coming open... are you getting turned on, too?"

"Yes, I'm turned on..."

"Is he pulling your pants down?"

"He's... Mark, I don't... yes, he's pulling them off me..."

Over the phone Mark could hear the rustling of clothes, could picture Chelsea's long, flawless legs coming bare, and he was thrilled. It excited him to know that she was maybe just as aroused as he was, that she'd called him back specifically because she wanted to play -- it always made him feel like less of a freak to see her enjoying their games. Now she was a continent away and they were still getting off together. He took his time, barely fondling his dick: the last thing he wanted to do was cum before Chelsea's scenario had time to play out. He wanted to hear everything.

Chelsea's jeans hit the floor; she gasped as Dylan began planting kisses on her feet, calves, and shins.

"Oh! God. He's kissing me, baby, kissing my legs... it feels good..."

"Mmm. Is he going higher?"

"Yes, he's... he's kissing his way up my legs..." Chelsea kept her eyes shut, trying to pretend it was all just a fantasy for as long as she could. But as Dylan's silent kisses approached her hips, she found herself pushing things forward, giving pretend descriptions to Mark that were actually instructions to the flesh & blood lover crawling all over her. "Oh, Mark honey, his... hands are going up under my shirt... playing with my breasts, while he... kisses my belly... Mmmmm..."

"God, I can hear how much you like it..."

"I do, baby, I do like it... I think I'm gonna let him take my shirt off..."

"Do it, I want him to get y--" Mark's voice was cut off as the phone was ripped from Chelsea's hand and placed beside her; Dylan wasted no time, pushing her top up, collecting her bra in his hands along the way, and lifting the garments over her head and past her now up-stretched arms; her glasses were left askew so Dylan plucked them off her face.

Then, for the first time that night, he improvised, doing something that wasn't in Chelsea's fantasy script: he stole a kiss. A surprised Chelsea tensed up for only a second before surrendering: melting into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Dylan's neck while they hungrily made out. Five seconds... ten... fifteen... Chelsea let herself vanish, let herself forget everything except the man on top of her. It was Dylan who finally called her back to the present, pulling away from the kiss and handing Chelsea her phone; dazed, she put it to her ear.

"...ou there? Honey? Chelsea?"

"I'm here, I'm here. Sorry... I'm sorry, baby. I had to kiss him..."

"Oh, fuck..."

"Hmm -- you like that, don't you, baby? You sick puppy, you like it when I ignore you so I can give it up to another man..."

"I do, god help me... you've got me so fucking turned on. What's he doing now? I want to know."

"Now? He's playing with my tits, sucking on my nipple, teasing it, biting it." Obligingly, Dylan took Chelsea's nipple between his teeth and lightly licked & nibbled. "Oh! Mmmmm... that feels good, baby... I'm getting so wet for him, sweetie, I can feel it..."

"Soaking your panties?"

"Yes..."

"Mmm... maybe he should take them off?"

"Are you sure, honey? If he takes off my panties I don't know what might happen." At the mention of underwear Dylan automatically grabbed at her waistband, but Chelsea's hand flew down to stop him -- absurdly, she still wanted Mark's permission to continue, no matter how deceptively obtained. "Do you really want him to take your girl's panties off? You have to say it."

"Oh my god... do you want him to? Do you want me to say it's alright?"

"... I do."

"Then so do I. Tell him he can take off your panties."

Chelsea paused and took in a deep breath. "Dylan, Mark says you can take off my panties." Her eyes were shut tight and she missed the evil smile this brought to Dylan's lips. As she felt her flimsy underwear gliding down her legs, she could hear Mark gasping into the phone, excited beyond belief at this new turn in their fantasy life.

"Oh fuck, Chelsea, oh fuck... what are you wearing now? Are you totally naked?"

"That's right, baby, I'm completely naked... I'm lying on Dylan's bed and I don't have on anything at all..." Upon hearing this, Dylan cruelly took her hand and tapped on Chelsea's engagement ring, drawing her attention, prompting her to blurt out, "... except the ring you gave me."

"Ohhh my GOD, oh my god..."

"Jesus, honey, I can't believe you like that idea... and you do like it, don't you?"

"I do... it's fucked up, but I do. Is Dylan naked?"

"Him? No, too focused on stripping your girl, he's still fully dressed. He's got on a... oh! Spoke too soon, sweetie..." Taking his cue, Dylan stood up and made short work of his clothes -- in no time flat he was bare-assed naked, standing beside the bed and running his hands over Chelsea's upper-body. "He's naked now, touching me... fuck, he's so sexy -- so big, strong... so hard..."

"He's already hard?"

"Yes baby, he's hard for your girl." Without thinking, Chelsea reached her hand out to take hold of Dylan's rigid manhood, reacquainting herself with the piece of flesh that had fucked her so well it changed her life, and which had had an invisible hold on her ever since.

"Fuck. Is he big? Is he, you know... bigger?" Mouth agape, eyes glassy, hand caressing -- Chelsea silently nodded. Fuck yes he's bigger. Mark's voice had to call her back to him. "Baby?"

"Oh. Yes, sweetie, he's bigger..." Then, in a whisper, as if to herself: "So beautiful..." Mark groaned on the other side of the call, hearing the lust & awe in his fiancée's voice.

"Shit... will you suck it?"

"No, I can't, I'm talking to you, sweetie... but I'll kiss it. Oh, god, I want to kiss it so bad, it's so perfect." Mark heard Chelsea making lip-smacking noises for a second and had to pull his hand away from his dick to keep from cumming on the spot. "Mmm, he tastes so good, baby -- he tastes... like a real man."

"Ohh, fuck." A loud bang startled the three of them; the door to Cody's room had just slammed shut. "What was that?" Mark asked. Again, Chelsea gave him the truth.

"It's the door to Nora's room. Oh, honey, it's really happening: Nora's about to get fucked, she's about to cheat. Don't tell anyone, ok? She doesn't have a guy like you at home, someone so... understanding."

Dylan was enjoying this whole scene immensely -- and when it came to pussy he was a patient man -- but even he had his limits. He climbed onto the bed and began touching, kissing, licking everywhere, getting Chelsea ready; he had to be inside her. While Mark listened to the bed's creaking and his girlfriend's whimpering, Dylan slid up to speak into Chelsea's other ear.

"Hang up the phone," he whispered. Chelsea furrowed her brow and shook her head no. She could feel the heat from the cock hovering just outside her starved pussy and it was driving her insane. But she couldn't do that to Mark, couldn't just hang up on him and admit that she'd rather get fucked than help her trusting fiancé play with himself. "Hang up and I'll give you the fucking you need -- you're mine tonight, and I'm tired of sharing. Make him cum and get him off the phone, but do it now... or he can stay on and listen, I really don't give a shit... but I'm about to fuck you until you can't even remember his name."

She gasped. He kissed his way down her abdomen and began to teasingly lick her pussy to break down the last of her willpower.

"Oh! Oh god... mm-MMM! Oh my g-god..." Chelsea moaned and whimpered into the phone. If Mark had been in his right mind, he'd have known that something was off: she never sounded like this when they played their game, so out of control, and even Chelsea wasn't this good an actress. But instead, turned on as he was, he merely thought it was the hottest thing ever.

"Ohhh, my god, Chelz. I love you so much, you're being so sexy... don't stop, please, what's he doing now?"

"I love you too, sweetie... but, he says it's time. He wants me to hang up and fuck him. He's licking me down there, and... o-ohhh!... and I think we're about to have sex again..." Mark completely missed the import of that word: 'again.'

"Nooo, don't hang up, don't hang up... I want to keep going, just a little more... are you gonna let him fuck you? Do you want it?"

"I think... ahh... I do..."

"Tell me."

"Yes, I need it... I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry, but your girl needs it..."

"Ohhh, fuck... Chelz, that's so fucking hot... did you bring condoms? Did you know this would happen?"

"Condoms...?" Chelsea looked down at Dylan, still at work between her legs; Dylan smiled to himself and shook his head. "No, sweetie. Remember what we talked about? Condoms aren't for Dylan. They're just for you..."

"Oh, god..."

"Honey... oh, god... sweetie, tell me you want this..."

"Yes, Chelz, I want it."

"You really mean it? Are you sure? Oh, fuck... baby, I'm so wet for him... if you say yes, I don't know if I can ever stop. If you say yes... you're gonna be married... to Dylan's slut -- oh g-god..."

"Yes, babe, I'm sure."

"Ok, I'll do it... but cum for me. Cum for me first so I know you're really ok with this."

If Mark had been in his right mind, he might have questioned why this fantasy was so drawn out in this direction... or why Chelsea was so very out of sorts... or what the soft, wet licking noises were in the background... or about those muffled sex noises, pounding & yelling from Cody's room next door, faintly audible in the background. Instead he just thought it was the hottest fantasy Chelsea had ever spun out for him, and despite being on a hair trigger he wanted it to keep going. But his hopes would be dashed.

"No no no, I want to hear. I'm ok with it, I want to listen while you get fucked."

"You want to listen while he fucks me?" Again Chelsea looked down at Dylan; again he smiled and shook his head No, then raised himself up and got into position between Chelsea long legs.

"Yes," Mark said, "please. I want to listen so bad..."

"No. No, baby, I'm sorry. You're my little cuckold, you don't get to listen... you get to cum in your hand..."

"Oh, FUCK! Oh god..."

"Do it, sweetie, cum for me! Cum all over yourself so I know you really want this..."

"AHHH, Jesus! Oh, fuck -- FUCKKK! AARGH-ahhh...." Chelsea listened to Mark's drawn-out orgasm and smiled in giddy excitement -- because she wanted him to feel good, because in her head it really was permission... and because it meant she could get off the phone with him and finally get the fucking she needed, from the man she really wanted.

"Mmmm... all better, baby?"

"Ha... holy shit, Chelsea. That was... wow."

"Yeah, wow... well, I have to go now, sweetie: it's time for me to get fucked, heheh..."

"Oh, haha, yeah... sweet dreams. And I guess I'll see you at the airport."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow... maybe. Dylan might not let me go..."

"Oh my god, Chelz, ha, don't even start again. You're gonna make me want--"

"Gotta go! Bye."

She ended the call and tossed her phone aside.

***

"Fucking finally!" Dylan said. Chelsea's eyes were fixed between her legs, locked on to the hard, swaying cock that would soon be inside her again.

"I know. Thanks for letting me finish..."

"Would you have hung up on him if I told you to?"

"I don't know, maybe." Then, in a whisper: "... yes. Shit."

"Good girl." Chelsea groaned in desperate arousal, perversely excited by Dylan's words. He began to lightly drag the tip of his cock up & down her slick folds, coating it in her wetness, and drawing a gasp from her lips. "And, deep down, you knew what you were really doing, coming here with me. Right?"

Chelsea bit her lip and nodded. "Yes, I knew what would happen when I came up to the room. I've known for a while. I tried telling myself it was just... I mean, I didn't think I wanted... ugh. You were right, ok? You were right about everything. I... I need more. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry I made you wait..."

"All is forgiven... but you won't do it again, will you? Next time it won't take so long."

"No, it won't. Oh, god..."

"Don't worry, you'll love having a naughty little secret. You'll see."

"Yes... no. No, I can't hide this from him. I'll find a way to tell him, make him understand..."

This was a complication he hadn't planned on -- so much simpler just to fuck the adorable bride-to-be on the sly. But she seemed to really mean it, and Dylan was nothing if not adaptable.

"Hmmm... ok, I'll help." He reached over, grabbed Chelsea's cell phone, and asked her for her passcode. She told him. "He needs to see it to really understand."

"Oh my god, Dylan, no! You can't--"

"Relax. We'll shoot some video, and you just show him whenever you're ready. Don't worry, you're still getting married. Shit, he'll be so turned on he'll forget to be mad. Ha, ten bucks says he cums in his pants."

"Oh god, oh god..." Chelsea's hands flew up to cover her face.

"Ok, ready?" Dylan opened up the phone's camera, pointed it at Chelsea, and pressed Record. "Alright, here we are! Chel-seeeaa... come on, don't be shy. Look at the camera, baby."

She uncovered her face and opened her eyes, clearly nervous. "H-hi, honey..."

"Little more, Chelsea. What are we doing?" She took in a breath and steeled herself to play her role. Mark would probably never see this anyway... right?

"Mark, honey, I hope you're ok with this. You told me you wanted it... like, so, so many times... and I want it too, so now Dylan & I are going to... oh, my god, I can't..." Her courage faltered for a moment; Dylan helped her out.

"Mark, buddy! I have good news and I have great news. The good news is that she really, really loves you, couldn't bear the thought of doing this behind your back. And the great news is: she's about to make all your fantasies come true. Isn't that right, Chelsea?"