Ignore the Warning Label Pt. 06

Author's Note:

This is NOT the kind of Part 6 that is designed to stand alone. You will be very lost without having read the first five parts.

To prevent anybody else going down the same rabbit hole two of my editors did, the two Pornhub videos described in this chapter are fictional.

General updates about what I'm working on can be found on my author profile. Got a question or feedback (positive or negative)? Feel free to reach out! Interactions with fans are a huge part of what motivates me to write.

As always, many thanks to EGRI and the other editors who prefer to remain anonymous.

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Ignore the Warning Label

Part 6

"It's a bit of a weird motion to get used to. You've got to keep your heels on the ground." Vivian nodded, her jaw clenched with effort. "And you gotta remember to breathe!"

"Oh yeah," Vivian panted. She tried another squat, struggling with the weight after holding it up for several reps while I corrected her form.

"That's better," I said, encouragingly.

She smiled back at me in the mirror, sweat dripping down her face and making her bangs fall in front of her eyes. "That's better, but..." she prompted.

"Here, let's switch and I'll show you again."

'Was there ever a time that I struggled squatting two tens plus the bar?' Probably, but I'd long since buried the memories. Vivian was doing well considering she'd never done any real weightlifting before. Her enthusiasm hadn't dulled at all, despite an hour of what I worried were buzz-killing form corrections. "See how far down I'm going?"

"Yeah. It felt like I was doing that."

"Check yourself in the mirror. Trust me, this is important." I re-racked the bar and stepped onto my metaphorical soap box. "There's two types of people in this gym. Those with self respect, and half reppers." I pointed to some guy I'd been quietly judging from the corner of my eye since we'd arrived. "Watch that guy on the bench press. See the way he's barely moving the bar up and down? That's fucking cheating. He thinks he's cool because he's benching 225, but he can't do it for real with a full range of motion." I locked eyes with my audience of one, flooding my voice with passion, "I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, Vivian. It's up to you to choose whether to support good or evil. All I'm going to say is, if you do decide to be a half repper, don't stand next to me or else other people might think I'm with you."

Vivian had managed to hold her laughter in, the effort showing more and more every second, but it finally escaped in a burst. "Wow, you're so serious! Did that guy call you a bitch or something when I wasn't looking?"

"It is serious!" I insisted, but more quietly. "The bar is 45 pounds, and each of the big plate weights are 45 each too. Moving up in increments of 45 are big milestones. 225 is a big one on bench, two of the 45 pound plates on each side."

"And doing it for half the motion triggers you because it's claiming credit for something he didn't earn?"

"Loads of people do it, and they're all morally bankrupt." I must have looked deadly serious again, because my expression made Vivian laugh more.

"Okay, I promise I'll do as you say, coach." She slid under the bar, lined her feet up with her shoulders, and went back to it. 'Much better!'

She learned quickly. There are a lot of people who go to the gym and never actually work hard enough to sweat. They just walk on the treadmill, wave some baby weights around for five minutes, then call it a day. Then they wonder why they're not getting any stronger.

For all she thought of herself as a nerd who played video games and only watched athletic people on TV, Vivian wasn't afraid to sweat. It was great! I honestly hadn't expected her to come with me. I'd mostly just been teasing her about coming into my wheelhouse after all the time we'd spent in hers recently playing Overwatch together. She never complained or tried to get us to leave, instead tossing herself into each exercise with an enthusiasm that defied her failing energy level.

'If she can keep this up, she might just turn into a proper gym rat.'

If it had just been me, I would have kept going for another few sets, but Vivian really was tired, and I thought it would be best to end on a high note. Club Metro in Newport, Jersey City had its fair share of drawbacks. The locker room was shitty and there's always a line for dead lifts. The one huge thing it had going for it is location. I could see both my apartment building and my office from the entrance.

It was also twenty yards from that pinnacle of exquisite culinary goodness that is Chipotle. Malcolm once tried to figure out how much money I'd spent there over the years, but I made him stop after the count got to four figures. Let's just say I was a familiar face and leave it at that.

There's something about standing on line and smelling the food so close that makes it impossible not to feel starved. My eyes were pulled to the bucket of guac like a magnet while Vivian chatted happily about her most recent date with her new boyfriend, David. It was a little difficult to keep up with the details -- when Vivian is excited about something, her brand of storytelling takes on a Tarantino style of ignoring chronology and jumping to whatever she's just remembered. Apparently, she'd met him at his place for the first time.

"It was like five different artists lived there! Remember how he said he likes to dabble in lots of things? Well, he wasn't kidding! There was tons of half finished stuff around -- paintings, sculptures, clothes, even furniture."

"Furniture? Like, woodworking?"

"Yeah, apparently he's got a friend that needs a new desk. Turns out there's a ton more to it than just nailing boards together." Vivian absolutely radiated delight, but her description of David's carpentry skills was cut short by the server.

"Welcome to Chipotle, what can I get for—Oh it's you again. Usual?"

Vivian raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged helplessly. "What! Can you blame me?"

She thought for a second, then admitted, "If I lived where you do, I'd probably be a regular too."

Vivian's arm shook very slightly holding her cup steady for water, and I smiled approving. She'd be sore tomorrow. Hopefully, she'd like the feeling as much as I do. Kind of like post-BDSM marks, nothing makes you feel like you've really accomplished something the next day quite like a bit of pleasant achiness.

"He seems like he's really making you happy," I said once Vivian's date commentary was interrupted by her burrito. "I'm really looking forward to meeting him tomorrow."

"I am too, I really hope you like him," she echoed, but her expression turned slightly anxious.

I grinned, knowing what that meant. "You're still planning to jump on him afterwards, aren't you?"

She nodded, nervous but determined, and dove back into her food. It was something that was both great and infuriating about David at the same time. He was the kind of guy who wanted Vivian to dictate how fast or slowly their relationship should go.

It was great because Vivian felt, for the first time in her life, like she genuinely had a real connection with somebody she was attracted to. They went to the park together, simply to enjoy a nice day in each other's company. He listened to her and actually remembered what she said. He had started teaching her to draw like he did, and he was interested in learning skills from her. All the basic stuff that should be standard for every relationship, but had always been absent for her.

And, of course, it was also infuriating because she'd been dying to fuck him basically since their first date, but the guy wouldn't take a goddamn hint!

"Devyn?" Vivian asked, quietly. "You don't think that side of me will frighten him off, do you?"

"No!" I said, firmly. "I think, if anything, he's worried about frightening you off himself by going too fast, or something. It would be funny, if it wasn't so frustrating."

That made Vivian laugh. "You know, I think you might be more annoyed about it than I am." She paused for a bite, then teased, "is it possibly because it reminds you of an old situation with a certain friend of yours?"

"It was totally different with me and Malcolm!"

"Really? You dropping hints for years that he never saw until you came out and told him directly?"

"Can't I just want my friends to get laid without it being about me reflecting onto them?" Her smile was just like Malcolm's when he knows exactly what's going on in my head. "Really! We'd been friends for a while before I realized I wanted more. At least that's some excuse for Malcolm's blindness. David asked you out the first time you met, and it's been weeks now. There's no reason for him to have stopped at first base."

"He thinks he's respecting what I want. It's sweet." I grumbled something about where he should be sticking his sweetness, which Vivian overrode. "How is he supposed to know I'm a shy submissive who's never had to initiate before?"

"You could just tell him that."

She rolled her eyes. "Riiight. I just wait for a lull in conversation and casually toss in how I'm a submissive whore who wants nothing more than to be manhandled, spanked to tears, and made to choke on his cock before he fucks me with it?"

"Ah... Well, I can see why that might be anxiety provoking."

"The goal is to keep this one, not freak him out." She fidgeted, unwrapping and rewrapping her burrito. "My plan was to just keep things vanilla tonight and hope some kind of inspiration strikes me down the line."

"Well, if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know. I'll come with you and tell him how kinky Malcolm and I get too, if you want. At least that way you can look tame by comparison." I placed a reassuring hand over her restless one. "I get how awkward the idea can seem, but if my experience with Malcolm has taught me anything, it's that you should be as honest with him as you can be."

"Susan said something similar. She thinks I'm not giving him enough credit, says he's been nothing but great to me so far and I should trust him to keep doing that." She smiled and squeezed my hand. "I know you're both right. Don't worry about me, Devyn, I'll be fine."

'When she says it like that, I really think she believes it.' It was a major step up from the Vivian I'd met just a few months ago. From someone who didn't believe she was worth sticking up for, into this person thinking logically about how to explain her wants to her partner. It made me so happy. She was finally getting to experience for herself a bit of the positivity she gave everybody around her.

"And I'm sure you're looking forward to seeing Malcolm again too," Vivian added cheerfully. "I hope you know how much I appreciate you two coming out with us. I know you don't get nearly enough time together."

The one sore spot in my otherwise perfect life... "Oh shut up with that," I said, trying to cover up the Malcolm shaped hole of want that had opened up inside me. "Getting invited to Barcade plus meeting your new boytoy is hardly twisting our arms."

"His internship just ended, right? You should be able to get more time once he's back in school."

I sighed, "In theory, yes. Anything is better than all the crap work they threw at him. In practice, probably not. He's going to have to spend most of his time this year applying to law firms and cramming for the bar exam." I seriously wasn't looking forward to that. I hated admitting it because of how much I loved him and how great being with him was, but the unfortunate truth was that I spent more days missing him than with him.

Vivian smiled across the table at me, her infectious warmth making it hard to dwell on negativity. "He's so close to the end, it must be exciting. I'm sure he'll end up somewhere great." Then, changing topics, she asked, "Did you get Nicole and Sam's invitation?"

"No, what's up?" I pulled my phone out of my pocket, assuming I'm messed a text.

"No! In the mail for their wedding!"

"Oh!" I made a dismissive gesture, "We're fucking Millennials. I only check my mailbox like once a month or something."

"They really did a nice job on them. I was a bit surprised they invited me, so I'm sure you have one waiting for you too."

"If they're nice, I'm sure it was all Sam, and Nicole had nothing to do with it," I joked. "When is it?"

"January, and it's at a ski area in Maine."

That was not what I was expecting. I'd imagined something outdoorsy for them to go along with their hiking adventures, but not as extreme as inviting us to freeze our asses off. "They're having a wedding in the middle of the fucking winter in Maine? Do people even get married in the winter? I don't think I've ever heard of anybody doing that."

"People who want awesome snow wedding photos do! Apparently, Sam's family has had a country place up there for years, and they got some kind of great deal to have the wedding there because a friend owns it."

That perked my ears up. "Okay, that does sound fun."

"I've never been skiing before, but I've always wanted to try," Vivian got a faraway look in her eye, clearly imagining some kind of romanticized version of winter sports where the boots didn't hurt and the wind chill on the chair lift wasn't bone chilling. I was about to share some reality stories when she suddenly cracked up laughing.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I just pictured them taking pictures, both in long white wedding dresses with snow all around them. Can you imagine Nicole all dressed up like that?"

The image was completely absurd. Sam, of course, looked like a runway model and would be stunning. Nicole, on the other hand, complained about anything more formal and less comfortable than a t-shirt and shorts. "Oh my god YES! That alone will be worth traveling to go see."

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Barcades are a fairly recent trend in millennial hangout culture, which is a bit surprising considering how obvious the idea is. Classic style arcades are great, but what's the one thing they're missing? Beer! After all, what better way to persuade people to pump tokens into games than getting them drunk?

Vivian was late, as always. She always struggled figuring out what to wear for dates with David, especially when they were going out in public. Normally, her instinct was to dress for invisibility, but she also wanted to be pretty for David. She went back and forth for far too long trying to thread the needle between modest and sexy. In the end, she'd realized how late she was, and just grabbed some jeans and a solid blue top that hugged her chest. There wasn't any cleavage to speak of, but it did show off how busty she was. She'd feel a little self-conscious, but it would be worth it for David's reaction!

148 West 24^th street. The sidewalks on both sides of the street were blocked by construction, making it difficult to see any building numbers. Really, why did people still insist on posting addresses with building numbers in the first place? Most businesses didn't bother with visible numbers anymore anyway. Maybe it made sense in other places, but in New York City, 148 West 24^th Street was much more vague than a cross street like 24^th and 6^th would have been. All 148 West 24^th Street meant was somewhere on 24^th street a little west of 5^th avenue. There's a lot of space west of 5^th Ave!

She ran right into David stepping out of a crowd to say hi.

"Sorry—Sorry! I didn't see you."

"Apparently not," he chuckled, straightening out his vest. "I thought you were just happy to see me."

"I am!" She hugged him more deliberately and gave him a peck kiss on the cheek, feeling a slight flush as she did. It was a small show of affection, but kisses were as far as they'd gotten, so it still had a new and adventurous feel to it.

At least her hints had managed to get him as far as kissing her. If it could really be called hinting, that is. They'd been alone in the park at night looking at the moon, sitting on the same bench David had asked her out on two weeks before. He had his arm around her, and she'd been leaning into him, resting her head on his shoulder, looking up at him and nearly breathing on his lips. It should have been beat-him-over-the-head-obvious what she wanted, but it had taken almost half an hour for him to finally kiss her!

"I've got a guess who your friends are," David said. They often played games while people watching like that. They'd describe someone to each other, then try to figure to who the other meant. He pulled her through the mass of people crowding the sidewalk, in the door and towards the bar, stopping just behind Devyn and Malcolm. Vivian was about to congratulate him, but David nodded towards the couple right beside them.

That couple had an arm around each other's waists, and honestly did match her descriptions of Devyn and Malcolm a bit. He wore a classy looking jacket and tie the way Malcolm always did, she was tall, and they looked at each other in a way that made it clear they were oblivious to everybody else jostling around them trying to get the bartender's attention.

Devyn and Malcolm themselves, on the other hand, were arguing about whether the Sauvignon Blanc Malcolm was intending to order made him a complete bitch.

"This isn't a restaurant, it's a fucking bar, it's completely different!"

"It's a bar we've been standing at for ten minutes without getting any service. Doesn't it make sense to order something I can sip for a while without having to come back?"

"That's not the point. The point is that when she finally brings our drinks to us, she's going to hand you mine and me yours, and I'm going to laugh my fucking ass off."

Vivian laughed and shifted David's attention. "Close, but not quite."

"Damn. They weren't even my second guess." Still unnoticed, they listened to a few more exchanges. Devyn insisted that she wasn't too old for the long island iced tea she was ordering, and anyway, didn't the fact that Malcolm was deflecting mean he knew she was right? "But they probably should have been," David added with a grin. "Now I see what you meant about them starting out as friends."

Mischievous inspiration struck Vivian. Maybe she could plant the BDSM seed in his mind first, then connect it to herself later? She knew Devyn wouldn't mind. Plus, the way Devyn was, it would at least be funny. "If you want a chance to redeem yourself, you can guess which of them is the dom and the sub in the bedroom."

David raised a surprised eyebrow at her, and Vivian felt her face heat a little. They didn't exactly have a history of sexual jokes, never mind kinky ones. When had she become that bold? She watched him closely, trying to ignore the anxiety that flooded into her. To her relief, she couldn't see any judgement in him. Curiosity replaced surprise, and he looked curiously at them, considering the loud blunt Devyn and the cool logical Malcolm. "They both sound pretty dominant?"

"That's not a real guess!"

"You can't just spring something like that on me! You've got to give me something to go on. At least introduce them first."

The bartender, looking like she would still be overworked if there were three clones of her, finally stopped in front of them. Malcolm jumped in before Devyn could say anything, ordering their drinks and grinning at Devyn as he specified the white wine was for him. Devyn rolled her eyes.

"Can we get in now too?" Vivian said, stepping up behind Devyn.

"There you guys are! Yeah, quick, what do you want?"

David, wearing a similar goofy grin to Malcolm, said "I think this guy has the right idea. I'll have what he's having."

"Not you too!" Devyn laughed, extending her hand to David to shake. "It's too bad, Vivian said so many good things about you."