The Revisit

If he pulls over now, let him do what he wants.

Pushing at the edges of risk, against her better judgement or nature, was the core symptom of Elisabeth's compulsion. It was a compulsion; occasionally, she could admit that she was less in control of her needs than she'd like. Stress and arousal could derail her judgement like nothing else, the voice in her head always urging her to just go with whatever her behaviour provoked. More often than she liked to admit, she obeyed it. But she did want to save herself for Caleb, and he'd be lucky to find her in this state.

Let him fuck you on the hood.

She lifted her phone up to her face, and pulled up the video she'd taken in the bathroom. She squirmed a little at the sight of herself, but her pelvic muscles tightened hard when she witnessed her orgasm. Even with the sound muted, she knew what had pushed her over the edge. She feared she might leave a moist patch in the back of this car -- once more, the deep shame of cumming to the sound of him calling her name became a well of dirty, forbidden arousal. The guilt at giving that pissant this kind of power over her. Of enjoying it. She wondered if, in the dim light of the back seat, the driver could see her blushing.

"Alright, here we are."

"What? Oh."

It was a decent enough distance up the pebble path to the front door. The car didn't pull away immediately; she wondered if he was looking at her. As she approached the doorstep, she looked over her shoulder at the car still waiting by the road, and pulled up her skirt just enough to show off her butt for the briefest moment. Then, she let the fabric fall back down, and rang the doorbell.

The door swung open, to reveal all 6' of Caleb, standing in a cosy-looking sweater and faded jeans, looking every bit as simultaneously cuddly and fuckable as he'd come across in his messages. He beamed a cheery "heeey!", threw his arms around her in a hug, and ushered her inside.

"This is a beautiful place." It was not the home of a 30 year-old single man. Not only was it tidy, but it was well-appointed, spacious, but lived in; it was the décor of a place accustomed to a family.

"Oh, I don't live here." She followed him through the corridor. "This is my friend's house. I live up the road. We'll go there after."

"Oh, okay." Ahead of her, he rounded the corner into the living room. "Well, I'm excited to meet your f--"

She had to admit, it seemed almost inevitable. Murphy's Law, or... something. The living room was nice and open-plan, and clearly the home of a much older couple. Billowing leather sofas formed a circle around a coffee table in front of the TV, displaying the playlist the pair had been listening to. A bottle of Scotch in the middle of the table, some tumblers, an ashtray, weed. At the far end of the room, wearing the same button-down work shirt and chinos he'd worn all day, and already laughing his ass off, was Dominic.

"Oh shit" he scoffed, "I called it. I fucking called it... in my head, anyway, I fucking knew it."

Elisabeth stood silent, in utter dismay. Caleb caught on quick. "Oh, he's... he's your coworker?"

"Dude, this is the slut you've been texting. It's fucking Liz." The laughter continued, obnoxious, hateful.

"Alright. Okay. Bye." Elisabeth spun around and headed back towards the front door. "Have fun tonight, guys." She could still probably catch the driver; maybe the fact that he'd seen her ass could help her salvage some of the evening after all.

Out front, there were no headlights, no car at the end of the path. She pulled out her phone and started looking for a new booking.

"Hey, wait." Caleb had followed her back out. "I'm so sorry. This is really unfortunate, I know."

"You're right, it's unfortunate." She turned to face him. He really was handsome. Handsome Mr Nice Guy. Would've been fun. "I fucking hate him. I can't do this, it's not your fault, I was really looking forward... I can't. He fucking sucks so much."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. He's my oldest friend."

"The fact that he has friends--"

"I know he can be a pain, I'm not defending him. We're just catching up. I promise we can leave and enjoy our evening in private, soon."

"No."

"Please? Please." Even his eyes said Please. "I was looking forward to this so much. I promise he won't be as much of an asshole around me. I'll make him behave."

She hesitated for a moment. Actually, going back inside made the most sense; why should she let Dominic steal this evening from her? The whole reason she'd come out here, in spite of him, was so as not to let him ruin a work opportunity. After that, why let him ruin good dick?

"I can't get another car out here for thirty minutes" she said. "Keep a leash on him, or I'm gone."

------

"You over it?" Dominic hadn't so much as unslouched from the sofa during the time the other two had been outside. He pulled from his glass and flashed a sickening grin.

"Hey. Hey. Best behaviour dude. I fucking mean it." Caleb didn't seem interested in hiding his tone from Elisabeth: do not fuck this up for me.

Dominic nodded, and appeared to soften slightly. "I hear you."

Elisabeth perched on a sofa corner furthest from Dominic, and scanned the room, taking note of the photos for the first time. "This is your parents' place."

"Yeah, I'm staying here. They're away."

"Wait, have I been here before?"

Dominic poured her a measure of whisky and slid it over. She didn't pick it up. "Um, maybe? I might've had you and a couple other Hockey people round once."

Caleb was rolling a joint on the table already. "You two played Hockey together?"

Elisabeth opened her mouth to answer, but Dominic had his own locked and loaded.

"Oh, yeah. Old Hockey Grip here was legendary."

"Don't... Dominic, please."

Elisabeth was actually trembling. They hadn't been back inside for a minute and Dominic was already going nuclear.

Caleb had finished rolling. "Alright, whatever it is, just stop. She clearly doesn't like it."

She was half mortified, half incandescent that he'd actually bring up the worst moment of her time there. She glared at him, wide-eyed. "No, I don't."

"C'mon Grippy, it's been like ten years." He wasn't even hiding his delight at holding this over her. "We should be able to laugh about it by now."

"No, and don't fucking call me that."

Hockey Grip. Grippy. Backstick. There had been a few nicknames, and some had stuck tighter than others.

Caleb's eyes were raised, in a curiosity that was undermining his prospects for getting laid as they spoke. "Is this... why you don't like each other?"

"We do like each other, we just kid around" Dominic was dismissive as ever.

"I don't fucking like him," seethed Elisabeth, already pulling out her phone to book a new cab. She'd sit outside for an hour if it came to it. "He told people something very private about me and it ruined my degree."

Dominic laughed drily, wide-eyed, incredulous. "I ruined your degree? It wasn't that bad. Nobody really cared that much except you."

"You destroyed my life. I couldn't make friends with anyone."

"I did not." He sounded genuinely defensive. "You couldn't make friends because you're a social moron who can't let anything go." Elisabeth's expression mirrored his own incredulity, as he went on. "You're gonna have to face facts that things like that don't really bother people that much. If you had problems making friends, that shit was on you. All it is is a dumb story, nobody thought less of you, you were the one who was defensive and avoidant the whole time."

"You are not going to fucking blame me for what you did to me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I the one who shoved--" an ice cube hit him in the forehead. "Ow, fuck!" He rubbed the spot where it struck. "You see? Defensive, hostile..."

"I am not going to let you do this." There was an added dilemma, now. If she left, she couldn't stop him from talking. If she didn't lock him down now, it would come out. If it came out and she wasn't here to argue her side...

Caleb took a drag on the joint and offered it around the room, neither of them paying it any mind. "Can it really have been all that bad?"

"No, it really wasn't" Dominic seemed determined. "I'm gonna lay it out here, and then we can smoke a joint, all friends, forget all about it."

"Don't."

"You don't wanna hear it, go back outside."

Elisabeth sat in horror, and felt that sick, embarrassed guilt crawl over her skin again. The same feeling she'd had in the bathroom. She was horrified to sense her pussy stirring a little, too, at the potential for serious exposure, as Dominic sadistically ignored her pleas not to recant the most humiliating experience she'd ever had.

It had been her first year, and her first time away from home, and she'd had her sexual awakening during that time. Sharing a dorm with Dominic -- who'd moved into dorms despite his childhood home being half an hour away, to "get the full experience" -- had made that challenging. Having hookups in her room was a definite no, and getting off required meticulous timing.

One day, her timing was off, and Dominic had walked in on her. Her teammate had strolled in to a full frontal view of her lying supine, hugging her knees, with the handle of her Hockey Stick four inches inside her cunt.

"That's it?" Caleb seemed nonplussed. "Everyone has a story like that."

Told aloud, it was rather anticlimactic. Perhaps not for the teenagers in the moment, when the embarrassment and the sensationalism still carried some novelty, but for three people in their thirties, it was lightweight. A story that could be told in a few sentences and, seemingly, went nowhere.

"When I was 17 I got caught jerking off behind a tree" Caleb carried on. "This stuff happens. I doubt anyone remembers or judges you for it now."

"He does."

"Yeah, well... he's him."

"But it didn't matter" Dominic said. "It was funny, that's all. I barely told anyone."

The trivialisation upset Elisabeth further. She knew what damage had been done; once the rumour got around, and nicknames started, it had stirred up distresses that went further back for her. Back to childhood, to being a loner. Embarrassment had meant vulnerability for her, and so the defenses went up. She didn't have a chance to find out whether people would get over it or not; it was a known gap in her armour, and among other students, new people, she could no longer feel comfortable.

"Exactly. You ostracised yourself", said Dominic. "You can't blame me for your own melodrama." He tipped the rest of the bottle into his glass. "Face it, Liz. People don't just become outcasts unless there's something really wrong with them. A little story like that wasn't going to ruin your life. People gave up on you because you were weird and cagey and you put them off." While he downed it, she glared six inches in front of her face, nostrils flared, her breathing audible. He continued. "And you're still not over it. You're still looking for anyone else to blame. You're such a little girl."

He said it as if there was no problem in the world with the fact that he'd rushed to humiliate her. No remorse. Not that she expected remorse -- until they'd wound up at the same job, she'd been happy to pretend he didn't exist. She knew that it wasn't her fault. He'd stolen privacy from her, and saddled her with those choices and feelings. He shouldn't get to be the appraiser of her reaction; it was about what he did, not what she should have done. Yet, the words cut deep. Of course they did. Dominic had said nothing she hadn't seethed to herself. It was so easy for it to feel true, and for her to feel lesser, smaller.

Although she would never discuss it with him, she wouldn't deny to herself that her kinks, the leaps her brain and body took from stressful stimuli to sexual risk on cue, had started from that experience as well. A lifetime of chasing that sticky discomfort, the fear of being caught, found out, of being regarded as a pervert and a sex object -- depending on context, she could enjoy controlled and positive manifestations of this desire, or forget herself, letting situations spin out of control, allowing her grip on her boundaries and safety to slip away. She loved being looked at, and she loved risk. Rarely had it become frightening, but on those occasions, there had been an undeniable potency. The idea that sexual feeling could be so explosive, so slutty, that indulging in it might ruin your life. Even now, it was becoming more and more futile to try and stuff down the sensation that being outed once more for being caught fucking herself with sports equipment was turning her as wet as she'd been on the cab ride over. Wetter.

As her conscience had become steeped in these thoughts and feelings, Dominic had ranted on, attacking her character in a vulnerable moment that he'd contrived. She hadn't looked at him once, merely picking up the joint from the ashtray and taking a couple of deep drags.

"Alright, Dominic, you can fuck off now." She stopped him mid-sentence. Her voice was quiet, distant.

"Um... you fuck off. It's my house. My friend. Go back to your hotel."

Caleb, perhaps beginning to take seriously the possibility that Dominic might be the worst wingman in history, interjected. "Look, this is meant to be a date." He slid a keychain across the table. "I have another bottle of something special over at my house. Maybe you can take a walk while we salvage the vibe here."

"So you can fuck each other on my parents' bed?"

Elisabeth snorted. "I'm good, thanks."

"Why don't you two go back to yours?"

Caleb sighed, taking another drag. "Because." He seemed to ponder the question for a moment. "I haven't seen you in like a year, and I'd like our evening not to end on you being your worst self. And after that little display, you owe us some alone time. Go get that bottle, it's rare shit. You'll know it when you see it."

Dominic picked up the keys and stormed out of the room, eyebrows raised, muttering about being kicked out of his own house.

Caleb passed the joint over. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you know, you just have to let Dominic be Dominic."

"No, I don't." Elisabeth hadn't leaned back, or relaxed her shoulders. "If you let guys like him be themselves, you alienate everybody who can't stand them." Another drag. As the haze enveloped her, she became hyper-aware of the tension in her shoulders and the wetness between her thighs. Dominic's little routine had done a number on her, again. "And why should guys get to be like that? It's unattractive that you condone it."

"Okay." He seemed unsure of what to say.

"You said you could control him. It seemed to me like the chance to show off to you made it worse."

"Okay." A long pause. "Yeah. No, you're right, I can't rationalise it. That was fucked up, I'm sorry I didn't stop it."

To Elisabeth, a candid apology was gold dust. And she'd been torn down hard enough by Dominic that if she didn't get some catharsis this evening, she might never recover.

"How far away is your house from here?"

"Fifteen minutes. He'll be gone at least half an hour."

"Okay. Alright, well. Apology accepted, I guess." She stood up, adjusting her dress to make sure that it pulled against her body, just enough to give him an eyeful. "Are you gonna show me where his parents' bedroom is?"

------

The door was opposite the top of the stairs, and as Elisabeth followed Caleb through, she made a note not to shut it behind her. Despite every intention of being in and out before Dominic returned, she loved an open door. Even an implied portal to the wider world made everything more exciting to her. It was, almost comically, an aged couple's bedroom. Sparse, dustless, with a gruesomely soft carpet and chintzy floral sheets on a cast iron bedframe.

Caleb sat on the end of the bed with a stereotypical rustling sound, air whistling out from under the bedsheets. Standing over him, her feet wide, she peeled that cuddly sweater up off his body and inhaled his scent, which rose like steam off his chest and shoulders. She buried her fingers in his hair, as she'd been longing to do, bringing her hands down to cradle him at the back of his neck and draw him in. She was already moaning as their lips met, ashen and whisky-tinged, but warm, wet, intoxicating. He was, to her delight, as brilliant a kisser as she'd hoped. Each touch met the tension and release of her own lips in beautiful reciprocity; she lifted her knees up on to the bed on either side of him, sitting down in his lap and grinding her hips into him, and he possessed the core strength to stay upright as he caressed her back through her dress.

She felt him harden beneath her very quickly, and sang a moan of joy onto his tongue. She wriggled on top of it, kneading it with the mound of her pussy through the layers of fabric. He lifted his hips a little in response, and the thing tensed, pressing tight into her as gravity brought her weight down on his shaft. The thing she'd been craving all week. His hand found the hem of her dress, and began curling it upwards, seeking the soft skin of her buttocks.

She moved more swiftly, pulling back, and kneeling herself on the floor, meditating over his bulge. Salivating. She unbuttoned and unzipped him without ceremony, tugging the waistband of his boxers down and giggling hungrily as his erection pulled free of the elastic, lurching firmly upright. She cocked her head to one side, wearing a wide grin, finally admiring in person the tense, vascular marvel she'd drooled over so many pictures of. Aesthetically pleasing cock. Photogenic cock. The rarest treasure.

A girl who loves to show off delights in being seen with her mouth full. She fixed her eyes on his, wide open, her facial muscles holding on to the remnants of a smirk as her mouth formed a circle, her tongue slack against her lower lip. She descended. This time, she tasted his musk, smearing the evening's cock sweat on her tongue, sinking deeper, never closing her lips around his shaft until she could go no lower. She brought the seal watertight, puckering her lips out to moisten his skin. The look of elation on his face was exactly what she'd looked for. She stared up at his overwhelmed expression of pleasure and pulled upwards, gradually, until her lips found the contours of the head -- and then she sank to the bottom once more.

He moaned. It seemed affected, but she appreciated that too -- Caleb was a performer. She adored the feedback, the confirmation of the pleasure he was in. She slid up and down his shaft more urgently, taking him deep with each plunge, her eyes never leaving his, even as they began to water as he pushed at the back of her throat. She sighed, sensually, at the top of each motion, reciprocating his moans, letting him know how good it made her feel to suck him. To be seen sucking him.

He crawled backwards, up onto the bed, shifting his jeans down to his knees as he moved. She followed, clambering up on all fours, and taking his cock into her mouth once more from above, this time braced over him in a crawling position. If you suck the cum out of him now, he'll be able to fuck for ages later on. She slurped and gagged, bobbing more urgently and recklessly, jerking him off with her lips, and feeling ever more deliciously slutty making eye contact with him in the knowledge that he could see her pretty face stuffed full of his cock. Even more so with her barely-covered ass wriggling in the direction of the open door.

She didn't take her gaze off him, but his seemed to... look past her. He was sitting up a little too. He was definitely looking behind her.

Dreading what she was inevitably going to see, she turned, slowly, looking over her shoulder, reaching one hand up to push down her hair so she could see past it. To Dominic, standing in the doorway holding Elisabeth's handbag, wearing a mirthless smile. Barely gone five minutes, he must have walked out and circled right back.