Do You Ever Read Fan Fiction?

"So instead, you focus back on the reality before you. Tony is seated beside you. His khakis are already gone and he's cat-calling at Jenna to sit on his cock. You turn, slowly, and glance at him. For a moment, you consider whether she should comply or you should. Then you realize that-"

"I'm not gay," Benji moaned slowly.

His words brought Magdalena's attention back to the present, and she turned her clouded gaze in his direction. He was reclined back on the sofa, as she'd last seen him, but his right hand was now lost inside the tented front of his oversized jeans. His eyes were hazed, he appeared drunk.

"I'm not gay," he repeated, slowly and perfunctorily. "But I have fucked a few guys."

Magdalena stared at him, clueless how to respond to this admission. All her body seemed to allow was a slow nod, as she swallowed back the tension and continued. That was all she knew to do. "Jenna turns to you, she grins, and she says softly, ‘I want you, baby'. Those words dismiss Tony from the situation almost immediately. In fact, you watch curiously as Tony stands up and exits the room.

"That's when Jenna's real work begins. As if on cue, she drops to her knees before you and extracts-"

Benji let out a soft growl. "Fuck yeah."

Magdalena's immediate attention snapped back to the here and now. She stared at him, watch him fist his lengthy erection in full view of her hungry eyes. She had barely told a story, and here he was. Already over the top. His voice was a clear indication that he was close, already, to finishing what he had started with himself. She watched his movements, hungrily. The fist plunging upward as he face scrunched with pleasure, then his fingers plunging downward as his eyes fought to close more tightly. Up and inhale, down and exhale. Hurried, frantic movements. She watched him, and she was certain he was aware of this.

"Benj?" she whispered softly. "What are you-" But she knew perfectly well what he was doing. She knew all too well. And she was enjoying the show.

He fought to open his eyes, to remove his fist from himself, and to speak, coherently. Each word appeared to be a battle, the notes of his voice gruff. "Sorry, Mags, I….Let me tell you a story."

The strange change of topic caught her off guard. She felt slightly stunned. But her voice spoke for her and before she was fully aware of what had just occurred, Benji had reclined back further, sighed loudly, and began a narrative.

"The couple is in a hotel room in an unknown city. It's like every other hotel room. Entirely non-descript with bad, gaudy paintings on the walls and a tacky white plastic headboard glued to the wall above the bed."

"That's a motel," Magdalena heard herself state.

Benji ignored her, returning his hand to his clearly still excited body. He grinned and shut his eyes as he continued, throatily. "They're the only ones in the motel for the night. They know this, because the desk clerk gave them a choice of any room. Many vacancies, he had emphasized as he handed them the small silver key. They had chosen Room #13. That was his lucky number."

Magdalena snorted. "So typical."

He either did not hear her or ignored her statement. Instead, he released a slow moan and bucked his hips slightly upward. Magdalena's eyes went wide just as the first words of his next statement rolled off his pierced lips. "The room was plain and simple. Cheap. But that's what they had sought that evening when they had gone out. A simple location for a simple night. They only had one thing in mind."

"Fucking," Magdalena stated matter-of-factly.

"Fucking," Benji nodded.

"They wanted each other," Magdalena stated, staring at his slowly massaging hand.

"But he was afraid to tell her," Benji groaned gently.

"She wanted him," Magdalena smiled, allowing her hands to slide up towards her pert breasts and already excited nipples. She grinned lazily as she touched herself. "She wanted him so bad. Like all those girls that write stories about him."

"But he doesn't know those girls," he answered, opening his eyes and staring at her massaging hands. "He'll probably never know those girls the way he knows her."

"So they go to a motel," Magdalena cooed softly in response. "And they fuck their brains out."

Benji grinned. "Or they stay home and enjoy each other in the privacy of her bedroom."

Magdalena grinned back deviously. "Or they could turn on her computer and read some more stories."

"Together," he smiled.

"Together," she winked.