Messy Ch. 05

Story Info
One last year in a nonmonogamous life.
3.9k words
4.65
8.4k
7
0

Part 5 of the 23 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 11/14/2017
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

"Dammit." I whispered.

"I can go if you want," Sienna replied. Rather than the confident, smart, forceful girl I was used to, she seemed...hesitant.

"How did you find your way here? I don't have a landline, my name isn't in the phone book."

"That last test. I solved your code."

I'd misspelled multiple words in the near duplicate custom test I'd given Sienna, italicized the first one, and then expected her to find the rest. She had. Smart girl. All the extra and missing letters added up to the abbreviations for the street corner my row of townhouses occupied. It had been a long shot, but it was the only way I could think of to pass her a message without jeopardizing my career more than I could accept.

"Can I come in? Its freezing out here." Sienna shivered.

Cold air was blowing around her slight frame as she stood in the doorway, and I realized I was barefoot and wearing a t-shirt. "One last question, then yeah. What kind of car do you drive?"

""Twenty thirteen rav four. Why?"

I stood aside, motioning her in, closing the door behind her. "Because I had someone sitting in a nineties sedan on my curb for a a long while back in September. Just... Wanted to be sure."

"Yeah, not me." Sienna was standing in the middle of the living room, peeling off her hat, gloves, and jacket. "Cute house. Not what I expected, but cute."

"What were you expecting?"

"Dude, you coded Selector. I was expecting lots of heavy wood, leather, and chains."

"That's in the attic." I didn't let on if I was kidding or not, keeping my face and voice dispassionate.

My stomach rumbled loud enough for both of us to hear it, and I headed unsteadily for the kitchen. I needed something to eat, soak up this alcohol.

I couldn't find anything that didn't require an oven, and in my current state, that wasn't a good idea.

"Are you alright?" Sienna asked, a hint of concern in her voice. "I can come back."

"I had a bad day, " I replied simply. "I drank on an empty stomach. Never do that."

"I hear ya."

"You should take me out for tacos." I grinned at the beautiful girl in my kitchen, and thought my words were hilarious.

She seemed taken off balance. "What?"

"Hell, I'll even buy. Just... I'm drunk and want tacos. And I don't have a vehicle right now. So you should take me to get tacos."

Sienna laughed nervously. "You're not what I expected."

"What is it girls like to say on the internet 'if you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best?' And besides, I think it'll be good to talk on neutral ground."

She took a breath, then another. Exhaled loudly. Seemed to make up her mind. "Ok. Yeah. Lets go."

"Great. I need to get my jacket and shoes."

"So why was today a bad day?" Sienna asked as she drove. "You seem to finished a bunch of accelerated classes, your workload just got way lighter, you should be happy."

"Someone cut all my brakes. That was the puddle you saw under my car. Brake fluid." I couldn't seem to believe it myself, but there it was.

"Shit! Do you know who did it?" Sienna looked over at me and her face showed concern.

"No idea. I'll check with the school tomorrow and see if they caught anything on the cameras, but I doubt it."

"Dude, I'm really sorry, I had no idea. That's scary."

"Now you know why I'm not in the best headspacing right now."

We found a restaurant downtown that wanted us to think outside the bun, and Sienna pulled into the driveway. "Drive-through, or eat inside?"

"Inside."

She parked, shut the little SUV off. Didn't get out. I didn't get out either.

"You ok?" I asked softly. She was staring into the brightly lit restaurant, and seemed several dozen miles away, mentally.

Sienna turned to look at me, her leather jacket creaking in the cold. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok, I'll get my brakes fixed."

"Not that. Earlier. September. I thought someone like you would like it if someone were more forward with you and I didn't think..." Her words came out in a rushing tumble, like she been saving them up like quarters, and now needed to spend them.

"It's ok. No harm done."

"Yeah there was. I hurt you. Could've hurt you way worse."

"Sienna." I put steel in my voice, command. "It's ok."

She drew in a nervous breath. "Really? You seemed mad at me earlier."

"And I was. I like my job. I don't like people screwing with it. But you said you're sorry and you seem like you mean it, so...its ok. Just don't do it again."

"Ok."

We hurried through the cold night air to the door, were assaulted with a blast of warm and the smell of beans, meat, grease, and cleaning product. I knew what I wanted, ordered two tacos and two burritos, and then waited for Sienna to make her pick. When she didn't say anything, I looked back at her expectantly. She gave a guilty little shrug. "You pick for me."

I ordered a burrito and taco for her, paid, and we found a booth at the back of the empty restaurant. Nobody else getting imitation Mexican food on a frigid fall night, apparently.

We had to look quite the pair. I wore jeans, a hoody, and an army jacket, had a few days stubble and was obviously drunk, though not impaired. Sienna was still wearing her elegant outfit from the afternoon, even the watchcap looked expensive. I squinted at the numerals stitched into its hem. Yeah, it was expensive.

She looked great. I looked like a bum. I wondered what people thought when they looked at us.

I registered that she'd said something, and I chugged soda, raised my eyebrows at her.

"Are you done teaching for the semester?"

I nodded. "I'll wrap up my last the online classes in the first week of December, won't go back until after the first week of January. You?"

"I'm done for the semester. I'll be working in the bookstore for all the textbook returns until a bit before Christmas, but yeah, classes are over."

I grinned. "Did we both choose accelerated classes for the same reason?"

"Oh yeah."

The server brought out food, and we munched on the high sodium grease for a while. "So. Why me?" I asked finally.

Sienna sipped in silence. When she finally spoke, she seemed embarrassed. "Selector, like I told you back in September. One of my girlfriends showed me how to download it. You matched my interests, and when I realized you were my economics professor, well, I thought that rather than messaging you through the app, someone with your interests would appreciate a direct approach."

"Ok. But still... Why me?"

"I've had trouble getting and keeping boyfriends. I'm not compatible with a lot of them it seems. The two that I've had weren't didn't have the same interests as me. One said, and I quote 'That's just too much work.'"

"You. Have trouble getting boyfriends? Really?" I looked her up and down. "I have a hard time believing that."

She chuckled. "Thanks. But it's true. I have pretty high standards. I'm not high maintenance, but I have certain, uh, behavioral expectations that just aren't getting met these days."

"I'm going to guess that you're referring to sex," I said quietly.

"I mean yeah, that's part of it, but it's more about just being a man. I can adjust what I want and need based on the relationship, I guess, if I absolutely need to. But I can't adjust needing to be with someone who is more manly than me. Guys today are pussies."

I snorted. "That's not entirely fair..."

"In my experience, yeah, yeah it is. Do you mind if I'm explicit for a moment?"

I gestured my acceptance. This would be interesting.

Sienna took a long drink of soda, seemed to fortify herself. "Imagine we've been in a sexual relationship for a couple of weeks, ok?"

I smirked. "I've been trying not to, actually."

"Bear with me here, it's important."

"Ok."

"We've been staying at each others places, we've exchanged keys, we've had a boringly pedestrian if reasonably satisfying dozen or two sessions together, and I decide to spice things up by waiting for you on your bed, wearing nothing but a few strategically placed smears of Nutella, and I want your dick so much I'm literally begging you for it. How would you respond?"

"Fuck me, that's hot," I muttered.

Sienna arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me. "Well?"

"You probably would have difficulty walking for the next few days."

"THANK YOU! You'd think that would be the response of any red blooded male with more than an angstrom of testosterone, right?"

"Maybe? I mean, what if a guy hates hazelnuts?"

She snorted, held her hand across her face like she was trying to keep her soda from coming out her nose. When she composed herself, Sienna said "Fucker asked if he could lick it off. When I said yes, he asked if he could, and I quote 'Lick it off my ladyparts too.' I said yes, he did a pretty decent job, and then he asked if I would be willing to suck him off. Which I put my whole heart and soul into. Then he asks if he can penetrate me, and if so, which position I preferred, or if he should get me a washcloth for the peanut butter. Didn't even know it wasn't peanut butter."

"Sounds a little odd."

"Right. Just man up and do it if I literally broke into your apartment to get naked for you. I get that guys are afraid of reading signals wrong, we've got the whole campus rape culture thing going on, but you don't need to get me to sign forms in triplicate indicating my consent every fuckin' time. Unless you want to choke me to death, cut me, defecate on me, or jam a chicken up my ass, if you really need to make conversation, just tell me what you're going to do! Preferably, tell me how hot I'm going to look doing it, or how much you're going to enjoy it, or how much it's going to hurt for me when you do it."

She stopped to take a breath, looked around to see if anyone had overheard her slightly loud whispering. I couldn't even see anyone at the register.

"Sounds like a communication issue," I told her bemusedly. "Did you try talking to him?"

"Every time. Got sick of it. Dumped him. And that was just the last guy I was with, over the summer. The guy I was dating before that was boring too. Not a nag about consent every fifteen seconds, but boring. I tried to spice it up, he shut it down. Like, every guy alive wants these things, and I couldn't give them to him. He just wanted everything to stay nice and boring, and actually got mean about it. You remember I told you he said I was to much work?"

"Yeah. Excuse me." I drained my soda, got up, got a refill, returned. "Can I get you a fill?"

Sienna held up her cup, and I refilled it too.

"Thank you." She smiled prettily at me. "Where was I?"

I settled into the booth, leaned back against the cold window. "You're too much trouble."

"Oh yeah. So, you wanna know why I'm too much trouble?"

I sighed. "Not really, honestly. Your boyfriends were in the past. If you want 'something' with me, I ain't like them. I don't need to hear about them."

"Please," she said. "It'll give you an idea of what I want. What I'm looking for. Please."

"Go for it." I wasn't particularly enthused with the idea of her venting her relationship woes to me, but whatever.

"I wanted him to set rules for me. Whatever he wanted. I gave him some suggestions, like I could only play with myself in front of him, or I had to ask him permission every time I came, or I had to give him my panties every time I was with him. If I didn't, he had to spank me until I cried, so I'd learn to behave for him. He could've set any rules that he wanted, suggested any other activities, but he said it was too much trouble to keep track of."

"That wasn't very nice."

"I'll leave you here, "Sienna replied, jokingly.

I sighed, shifted in my seat. "So, I guess my question is, how am I involved in this? It sounds like you're looking for something longer term, and Selector is really more of a hook up app. And even if it weren't, I'm not looking for a girlfriend. I don't do monogamy. The longest running relationship I have is with my neighbor, and she's off getting fucked by one of her friends tonight. And I don't care, just like she doesn't care when I have sex with other women."

Sienna looked almost excited by this. "I'm not looking for a long term relationship either. I don't want you to be my boyfriend. I'm just looking for...for...a friend with benefits? I guess? But someone who can teach me about this stuff that I want."

"And you want me to teach you. About stuff you've never experienced, but are sure you want."

"Ummm... When you put it like that..."

"What HAVE you experienced?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear about my previous partners?" Sienna smirked and sucked on her straw in a way I could only describe as suggestively.

"I don't need to hear complaints. Just...what have you done, what do you want to do?"

"Well, I'm not a virgin anymore..."

"No shit," I said sarcastically. "Toys. You like 'em?"

She looked down, embarrassed. "I've got one. A rabbit one of my girlfriends gave to me."

"Ok. That wasn't so hard. Do you like bondage, being tied up?"

The embarrassed look gave way to one much, much dreamier. "Oh hell yeah. Boyfriend tried rope. He pulled it too tight and made my arms go numb. He bought me some pink furry handcuffs once, which were ok, I mean they looked like a joke, but they worked."

"I don't use fuzzy handcuffs," I said pointedly. "I have much more dignified hardware."

Sienna shivered involuntarily.

"Gags? Blindfolds?"

"Blindfolds yes. Never tried a gag, but would like to. Though if you're going to gag me, I'd rather it not be a toy in my mouth." She looked slightly up at me and smirked.

"Do you like oral sex?"

"Oh fuck yeah. I love giving it. Getting it...will do. Or maybe I've never gotten the good stuff."

"Choking?"

"Only if you're careful."

"Anal?"

That got a shrug. "I offered it once to the boyfriend, thought he'd want it. We tried it, he wasn't very good. I didn't enjoy it, more importantly, he didn't enjoy it either."

"Would you try it again?"

"I wouldn't say no. It's not at the top of my priorities, but if a guy told me we were doing it, I'd obey, try to make it fun for him. I like the idea of not having a choice, of being made to do it, a lot more than I want to learn to enjoy it."

"An interesting statement. Threesomes?"

"Haven't done that yet, but I'd be down for it."

"Another guy or another girl?"

"Either. Both."

"So you'd play with another girl?"

"A couple of my girlfriends from high school have filled a few of my needs when my boyfriend didn't want to. I'm not going to date a girl, have a relationship with a girl, but if a guy wants me and some other girl in bed with him, or to play for him, well, I can keep up."

I had a sudden vision of Tori abusing the lithe blonde in front of me, torturing her with a whip and toys. I gulped, took a drink of soda, tried to concentrate on the conversation as a headache started to bloom.

"What about pain?"

Sienna thought for a bit. "Depends on the kind. Fire, fuck no. Needles, fuck no."

"Clamps?"

"Haven't tried 'em, but again, if a guy I'm sleeping with says I have to wear them..."

"Whips, paddles, canes, spanking, that sort of thing?"

Sienna shifted in her seat, her face flushing. "Was whipped at a party. That was fun. I'd like to try it all. Or maybe it's just that I'd like to be with a guy who just tells me he's going to do it."

I rolled my eyes. "So when you said you wanted your boyfriend to spank you until you cried, you've never actually had someone spank you like that?"

"No...never...at all." Her gaze was unfocused, obviously inside her head, imagining it.

I looked up as the bell on the door jingled and a Somalian couple stepped in. They ordered, and I didn't say another word, not wanting to involve any other diners in our explicit conversation if they sat down in the dining room area. They left, and I picked up where I left off. "What about control?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like... Being told to wear specific clothing or lingerie. Being ordered to masturbate for someone, or please them without getting anything back."

Another shift in the puke-colored plastic bench, and her breathing deepened. "Are you trying to turn me on?"

I grinned. "Maybe a little. Mostly I want to get to know what turns you on. Those are all things that I enjoy, and I won't have a sexual relationship without them. What do you want?"

"All of it," she whispered, even more quiet than the conversation we'd been having. "I want...I want to feel like I'm owned. That sounds weird, right? I don't want to be in love, don't want a husband, right now. I want to be wanted. By a guy who gets me, and gets me off the way I need, not because he's trying to please me, but because he's using me to please himself and what pleases me matches up. I haven't tried a lot of the stuff you mentioned, but deep down, I know I need it. And I want to fear that guy too."

I raised an eyebrow. I'm not exactly a paragon of mental health, but that comment sounded like it'd need Two Men And A Truck to unpack all her issues. "Fear," I repeated.

"Yeah. Like, I want to be afraid, kinda of how he's going to handle my body. Afraid of the things he's going to make me do. Afraid of how ashamed I'll feel doing them. Afraid of enjoying them and asking for more. And then I want him to make me feel safe."

"And you think I'm the guy to do that." It was a statement, not a question.

"I watched you with that punk girl on Halloween. I've watched porn before, all flavors. I've had sex with guys and girls. That was the hottest thing I've ever experienced. Bar none. For fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes, you fucking owned that girl's body and mind. I was so hot, wanted that so bad, I had to go find someone to hurt me just to take my mind off it. That was all I did that night, walked in, saw the two of you, got whipped, left. Because nothing anyone could do to me would be as erotic as what I'd seen."

"Aww, flattery will get you everywhere. But still, why me? I keep circling back to that, because I feel like you haven't answered yet. Not to my satisfaction at least. Ok, you saw me fuck some girl in the ass at a party. You matched with me on Selector. That's not a popular app, but there are a couple thousand people using it in the Minneapolis area. Why me? Cuz I was nearby?"

"The girlfriend who installed it on my phone said you looked hot. That's it." Sienna seemed embarrassed by the admission. "And you are. You obviously take care of yourself. Your attitude, your demeanor when teaching is...commanding."

"Ok." I rubbed at my temples. The vodka was chewing at my brainstorm brainstem, and had loosened the glue that held the world upright and in place. It moved loosely when I turned my head, doing no favors for the clenching that was occurring in my graymatter.

We sat. Silently, we sat. Sodas long-drained, food long-eaten. I struggled to wrap my mind around the night, a task made especially difficult by the headache. Finally I asked if she could take me home.

"So where do we go from here?" Sienna asked as she drove. I started out the window at the nearly-winter scene. Dark storefronts, dark houses, dark streets all slipped by in the freezing night, the hint of illumination touching them as headlights swept out from passing cars.

"I'm going home. You're going home too."

"So that's a 'no.'" Sienna sounded defeated. Almost sad. "Would it change your mind if I told you I don't want to have put the really expensive lingerie I'm wearing under my clothes on for nothing?"

"Nope." I was at a precipice here. Right at the edge of the Rubicon. One more step and everything changed.

Dammit.

"I'd tell you to put it on again tomorrow night and come over."

"What?" Complete surprise in her voice.

I hurried through what I wanted to say, afraid of chickening out. "I want you to do three things for me tomorrow. One, I want you to come up with a safeword. Two, I want you to write a scene for me. Doesn't need to be something that we do, or even can right now, feasibly. But I want you to write down the sex scene that turns you on more than anything else. Bring it tomorrow night. Three, I want you to take a selfie when you wake up and send it to me. Roll over, grab your phone, send me your picture."

12