Deep Down Inside Ch. 01-04

"Dude, Bobbie watched me text her back and explain I had a girlfriend, so I don't know what her issue is."

"What'd her initial text say?"

"She wanted to hook up for a weekend in San Francisco."

"When's the last time you fucked her?"

"I dunno. A while ago."

"But while you were with Bobbie, right?"

"Alright, yeah, but Bobbie and I have only been serious for a couple of weeks."

They'd been together for months.

"God, Kaden, normally I wouldn't care, but now I have a vested interest in your relationship. I like her friend."

"You like her ass, man. And you know me, Bobbie'll get over it."

"I don't doubt it. But can you be a little nicer to Camille in the meantime?"

He softly punched me in my shoulder. "Sorry, bro. I will. Camille just gets so high and mighty about shit. I dunno." He then grabbed his pint and tapped his glass to mine. "Drink up. Next one's on me. Camille's too."

When Camille returned to the bar after calling Bobbie I could tell she was ready to leave. I quickly directed her to the margarita on the table, and explained Kaden was trying to make peace.

She took a big sip.

"How's Bobbie?"

"Naive."

I had no doubt Bobbie would forgive Kaden. He had a sexy swagger that girls couldn't resist no matter how obnoxious he behaved. Or I should say most girls couldn't resist. Camille did not strike me as the type to demean herself no matter how hunky the guy was. I'd always half suspected she didn't approve of Kaden for Bobbie, and now it was becoming clear she didn't approve of the guy at all.

I quietly panicked, mentally scrambling to find words that would reverse the last half hour. There was a fine balance I had to seek. Kaden and Camille had a rocky start, but after that night out for sushi Kaden felt more appreciated and that sort of changed things. We play the part we feel we're owed, and having defended a woman's honor gave credence to his better nature. He'd been almost gentlemanly and sweet after that and Camille was gracious and warm in return.

I touched my hand to the side of her face and rubbed down her cheek. Her eyes were smoldering blue, deep in thought. I wanted to kiss her so badly, but while I was quietly panicking how to undo the last half hour she more than likely was trying to undo our time before that. I'd just had one of the best days of my life with a girl I really liked and suddenly she'd gone cold on me. It wasn't fair.

"Look, Kaden is who he is, and up until last year I'd always considered him just a friend I knew through Jimmy, but I think this dick-mode of his is a response to him feeling hurt."

"Hurt by what, his own stupidity?"

"He does like her."

She rolled her eyes away from me to where Kaden was leaning backwards over the pool table, his stick behind him, lining up a shot on the eight ball. He sunk it, hi-fived Jimmy and exclaimed, "Boom, that's how it's done!"

Kaden brought us another drink and a shot of tequila. Camille said thanks, but she wasn't staying long.

"Come on, one game," Kaden prodded.

"I'm terrible at pool."

"Then just have fun losing."

Between Kaden and I we convinced her to stay for a game. We played teams, Camille and Kaden and me and my friend Jimmy, since Kaden was the best and that made for balanced teams.

Each time Camille set up to shoot, her low riding jeans would slip down to her butt crack. Needless to say my horny friends noticed big time. She probably would've been pissed if she'd been aware of them eyeing up her juicy, tone ass, but to his credit, Kaden was being about as decent as I'd ever seen him and pointing out each shot with a James Bond like coolness. Our peaceful balance was returning.

Two more tequila shots arrived, and this time I slid mine to Camille. I had to drive us home at some point. Once those tequilas settled in she started laughing along with the guys. Then on her next turn the cue ball rolled to a stop in the center of the table.

Kaden tapped the wide area next to the side pocket, "Gonna need to take a seat on the table, short stuff."

"I think I can manage, thank you."

She got on her toes, but the one clean shot was lengthwise into a corner pocket. She began to reposition the cue stick as if she were thinking about a bank into the opposite corner.

"Don't bank it," Kaden warned, as he tapped the side of the table again. "We could win this one right now." Camille apparently had a competitive streak, because she hopped up and rested her weight on her left hip with that leg folded on the table and the other stretched to the floor. She then leaned way over to line up the ball, which forced her jeans down her ass until an inch of crack was visible. She shrieked, "My butt is totally hanging out, I know it!"

"You're fine," Kaden reassured, as he peeked around her back and lied through his teeth.

She was on to him and looked for herself. "Shit," she mumbled and looked towards me. I gave her a shrug and then a thumbs up. She shook her head, thinned her eyes and smiled skeptically.

Given the way she'd carried herself in the short time I'd known her, I knew she couldn't have been too pleased with every pair of eyes in the bar trained on her fine ass bulging over the soft denim. Jimmy whispered into my ear that if I was tapping that he'd erect a statue in my honor. Camille then thrust the stick forwards, driving the cue ball into the eight ball, and the eight ball into the corner pocket.

She slid down off the table, tugged her pants up, and only then did everybody realize she'd just won the game. A burst of hi-fives came at her from every angle, and then Kaden called for someone to take on the winning team. Two more tequila shots arrived and I again slid mine towards Camille.

"I'm not drinking either of these."

Kaden strutted up beside her, "I'll drink one if you drink the other." He picked up both little glasses and held one directly in front of her face. "Come on, to victory!"

She snatched it and drank, souring her face as it went down. She then agreed to another game but only if she could be on my team. She moved by me and her nearness filled me with heat.

With her shoulder resting on my chest, she asked, "How am I doing?"

"You won, didn't you?"

"No, I mean I just let a bunch of guys look at my ass so your friends wouldn't think I was stuck up."

"I don't think anyone even noticed," I joked.

"Ha! I just don't remember these pants being quite so loose. And don't let me drink anymore or my head is going to start spinning."

The balls cracked as Kaden broke and sent them scurrying about the table.

On Kaden's next turn, as he positioned his stick, he looked across the table and right at Camille. "So what did Bobbie have to say?"

"Why, did you feel your ears burning?"

"Maybe a little." He shot and made it. "Is she forgiving me?"

"That's a question for Bobbie."

"Well, what did you say?"

Camille shrugged.

"Do you think she should forgive me?"

"I thought we were playing pool."

He kept talking as he set up to shoot again. "You think she should leave me, huh?" When Camille stayed silent he continued, "You think I'm just going to play with your friend's big tits until I'm bored with her and then move on and leave her heartbroken."

Camille laughed. "Not quite."

He cracked the cue ball but didn't sink the nine.

It was my turn and I found myself having a hard time concentrating. Things had been light and fun our last game, but now the unaddressed bullshit was returning.

"So come on, Camille, I wanna hear what you said."

She took a deep breath. "OK, I think you're afraid to put your heart at stake." She paused and then continued, "And so you end up in self destructive relationships."

He laughed.

"If you really must know, I told her to respect herself or nobody else will. She's twenty-one, she still holds the belief an alpha-asshole will look out for her the way he looks out for himself."

Kaden spoke loudly, "You think I don't look out for her? How can you even say that?"

She turned to our group of friends, whose attention had been aroused by the agitation in Kaden's voice. She looked over the four guys who all stared back with idiotic this-is-gonna-be-good smiles. "So has Kaden ever told you about Bobbie's writing, or the fact that she just accepted an internship at NBC?" She didn't leave time for an answer. "Or did he just say how awesome it is to play with her big titties." She turned back to Kaden, "You just want everyone to know you're sticking your dick in that. That's the extent of you looking out for Bobbie."

"Pfffft! You haven't known Bobbie much longer than me. I'll tell you what, your friend climbs onto my dick every chance she gets—she loves to fuck."

"You know what, you'd probably be the happiest with some pretty girl laying at your feet like a dog, and that's truly sad."

"Speaking from experience? Projecting much?"

"I don't even know what that's supposed to mean."

Kaden got an obnoxious grin and turned towards Jimmy. "Do you remember Steve with the chopper?" Jimmy shook his head. "Well Camille said she'd been a barmaid at Hooligan's her first year at Long Beach, and that made me think of Steve Logan. So I found him on Facebook. He's not a bartender anymore, but boy does he remember Camille." He faced her again. "In fact, he asked me to pass along a warm 'hello'."

I don't know exactly what he was insinuating, but judging by the way Camille thinned her eyes it wasn't good.

"Oh yeah, he says he still has the Anthropologie couch at his home." He then feigned ignorance, "I wonder what the story is there?"

"You're an even bigger asshole than I'd thought."

"And you're not nearly as high and mighty as you let on."

"You think you're hot shit, but you're really just an insecure creep."

"Ohhhh, and next you'll be saying that I'm compensating for a shrimp sized penis, but of course I'm sure your girlfriend's already set the record straight on that one. Fifty bucks says I end up at Bobbie's tonight and she fucks my brains out, and it won't be with a shrimp."

Camille chucked the pool cue on the table, colliding with the scattered balls and wrecking our game. She then turned and walked out. I gave Kaden the finger and followed after her.

He yelled across the bar, "She might be fine, bro, but do you hear that mouth?"

I spun around. "Do you hear yours, man?"

Camille wanted to go home, straight home. I apologized over and over again, and she kept saying there was nothing to apologize for. Still, I felt like that was it for us. It was over. Our dating had been on the periphery of Bobbie and Kaden's relationship, so even after the two of us spent a day together, I was still lumped in with Kaden as his friend. And even if Kaden stayed with Bobbie, Camille surely wouldn't have anything to do with her boyfriend or his crowd now. Nope, I was on the outs.

I punched the roof of my BMW and yelled what an asshole Kaden was. Camille just looked at me for a minute, and then back out the window. She murmured, "The asshole actually asked Steve about me." She laughed, but a humorless dry laugh. And for a brief second, with her back to me, I think she might've cried.

I dropped her at her apartment. I walked her to the door. Her head was not in a good place, and I'm sure a kiss would've put her off. No mention of another date. We only politely agreed to call each other, and then said goodbye.

Kaden did end up back at Bobbie's that night. She did end up all over his dick. And they did end up together again. At least for a little while.

Chapter 4: Couching Tiger

I was on the phone with my mom the night after I'd dropped off Camille knowing I'd never see her again. I told my mom all about Camille, and when I explained how she'd walked away, my mom said something to the effect of there being a lot of other pretty girls out there. That's when I felt it—a knotty anger that twisted up my whole body.

My mother and I had a cookie jar and trophy case relationship without a gripe between us, but I became uncomfortably irritated with her when she said that. It hadn't been what she'd said. It hadn't been anything to do with my mom. I was just mad at everybody and everything. I rightfully blamed Kaden for denying me the most amazing woman I'd ever met, but it didn't stop there. Everyone of my friends seemed complicit in severing my chance with Camille. They were all selfish and immature and dragged me down with them. Everyone was to blame and they all deserved my ire, myself included. Especially myself. I could've spoken up loudly and I hadn't. Another hit to pride. The only person I didn't blame was Camille. And that's because I'd still feel her warming presence if I allowed myself to dote on her. I'd come to the conclusion she'd only went out with me in order to get between her friend and Kaden, but that didn't matter, it hadn't worked. I'd even failed her there. And that realization brought on something else, a sadness, and that sadness fed right back into my anger towards the whole damn world. It was an intensifying feedback loop that formed a spiral and led straight down an abyss.

My low point came three days later. I awoke from a dream, my dick hard as a rock. During our dates I'd fantasized about kissing and making out, real PG sweet on her type stuff. Sex had always seemed far off, like after weeks or months of courting. She was all class, maybe even a little guarded. But in my dream, which I can't recall in any detail, I had explored every part of her fit gorgeous bod—that ass, those tits, everything. My dick had sunk into her tight pussy. It was raw sex and the sensations had been so vivid that I awoke expecting her to be in bed next to me. But as the dream's fog cleared from my head and I stared at the undisturbed bedding to my right, the sweat on my forehead and chest grew ice cold and I pulled the covers up to my chin.

For hours I contemplated calling her again in the morning, only to then convince myself it was a bad idea. I didn't want to appear pathetic, like I couldn't take a hint. I didn't want Camille to remember me as that needy guy.

My dream must've been truly dirty, because ultimately I took a tissue from my bedside table and reached down for relief. In minutes I'd come into the tissue and then tossed it on the floor. I'd deal with it in the morning. Only then did I fall back to sleep.

Three hours later I was up again. My curtains glowed the color of sliced cantaloupe. I headed to the bathroom, stepping on the come tissue and getting it stuck to my foot. I hopped to the toilet and peeled it off into the bowl. I headed back to my bed and sat on it, picking up my phone from the nightstand and seeing a text message had come an hour earlier. As if in some alternate timeline Camille had left a text asking if I'd like to go bike riding on the weekend. It read as if that had been the plan all along. Like the night at Lucy's had never existed. I fell back on my bed and said to no one, "Did that just happen? Or is this just another dirty dream?"

It was so unexpected and I was so excited to hear from her that I proposed an early morning ride for the very next day. Instead she suggested dinner that night, and I picked her up at seven. I spoke freely over dinner, telling her everything I'd felt, even that I assumed she'd gone out with me as an excuse to watch over her friend. She admitted there was some truth to that initially, but confessed to finding me surprisingly awesome. I even got a kiss out of it. And then, after our ride that weekend, I got a lot more than a kiss. And this time I wasn't fucking dreaming.

We were in her kitchen, drinking lemonade, still in our bike riding gear. I don't remember the first move, we'd just edged closer and then sort of went for each other at the same time. Next thing I know we were headed for the couch.

I had no idea what to expect from her. She carried so much reverence that it was hard to imagine her in any kind of sexual act despite possessing such a fuckable body. Well, I learned Camille was not uptight, not in the least. The way she took down my compression shorts I began to wonder if she loved dick way more than she'd led on. Maybe she really was too intimidating for guys and sex-starved as a result, because she couldn't get to my dick fast enough.

I leaned over her back to pull down her shorts, and then I saw that amazing ass bared for the first time. For weeks I had to restrain myself from reaching out and grabbing it, but I couldn't hold back anymore and I grabbed two big handfuls, one cheek in each. Her body had a sweaty sheen from four hours of pedaling bikes in the sun, and her skin was slick and as tight as I'd imagined, my fingers slipping over its surface.

I then said something I shouldn't have. We hadn't spoken a word about last Saturday night at Suzy's Bar, I'd avoided it, and then I just couldn't help myself, and with a growl in my throat, I told her, "When you were bent over the pool table I so wanted to do this..." I pressed my face into the soft flesh of her ass and I bit her bare bottom.

"Oh my God!" She stood up and spun around. "Did you just bite me?"

I smiled wickedly and moved in to kiss her. I nibbled on her ear and told her I wanted to bite her all over. She clutched my ass and pressed my cock against her bare pussy. We were only minutes into our makeout session and already my cock was in contact with the peak of her vagina.

I pushed my fingers through her hair, which was still damp from being under a helmet. I could smell her sweat. It wasn't bad at all. A feminine, sweet musk with some kind of lavender product—a body oil or soap. It only made me appreciate what a healthy creature she was. I stroked down her back. She wrapped a leg around mine and more of her pussy pressed against my hard cock. I grabbed her other leg and brought it around the other side of me. She caught on to what I was doing and jumped enough to lock her legs around my ass and fully clung on to me. There was no penetration yet, but I held her in the air and tight against me as she grinded her crotch along my shaft.

I'd imagined if there were to be a first time with her that it would be at some bed and breakfast in the wine country and on a bed covered with rose petals. A perfect picturesque moment, like every other thing about her. Not even in my blazing, dirty dreams did I expect spontaneous, sweaty, raw sex in the middle of her living room.

Our bodies were working hard in this position, my calves popped trying to support us both and her thighs squeezed against my hips. We weren't just making out, we were in a fitness competition. For my part I was in the best shape of my life, and Camille's body was just amazing—fitness yoga or whatever she was doing, it paid off in gorgeous curves and compact, toned muscles with just enough pad to keep her womanly.

The suddenness of it all caused me to joke, "Been a while?"

She got a devil in her eye, "Longer than I'd have preferred."

I liked her answer. Boy did I like it!.

She then braced her feet under the back of my thighs and began to lean backwards. I had to shift my weight dramatically back as she kept bending backwards until she'd reached a full back bend with her hands grasping for a knitted blanket folded on the couch arm. I sort of fell forwards in slow motion depositing her in front of the couch. She quickly stood and began spreading the knitted blanket over the cushions. Impatient, I grabbed one side and helped her flatten it out. She then backed away from me, beckoning me forwards, and then unexpectedly shoved me backwards onto the couch. She straddled me and guided my cock into her pussy.

Her round fit ass moved up and down my hips and thighs, my cock crushing her clit during all the commotion. She rode me hard, those big fashion model eyes staring me down. She planted her hands on my chest, and my pecs, solid from weightlifting, supported her weight easily. That allowed her to lift her ass as it grinded over my cock, increasing the distance of each stroke.