Malum

My lips wrap around his finger as I suck myself off him. “Numb. The word you’re looking for isn’t bad, it’s numb.”

Nate’s fingers grip around my hips and his mere touch goes straight to my chest. I know he’s using me right now, and this scene right here isn’t something that would be happening on a day that he thinks he cares about me. At least cares enough to not share me. But maybe I’m using him too. And Brantley. I can hear Madison moaning in the background and the sound of flesh slapping together. It smells like rich cologne, perfume, weed, cigarettes and candy. Sex. It smells like sex. I feel the tip of Nate’s cock press against me from behind and I moan, my head tilting back.

Brantley takes a swig of whiskey, his eyes going over my head. His jaw flexes a few times, and then he mutters, “Can she fucking touch it at least?”

What? I missed something.

Brantley starts unzipping his jeans, and my eyes fall to his crotch. Nate slams inside of me and I let out a slight scream, my back arching. I feel myself clench around his thickness and my eyes roll to the back of my head, my thoughts lost in pleasure taking ownership of my dark thoughts. In Nate. Lost in Nate, but slightly distracted by Brantley’s cock. Two small silver balls are on either side of his tip, and then there’s a ladder going down his shaft. Holy fuck. I didn’t expect him to have his cock pierced. I somewhat expected Nate to have it, since he has other piercings. Nose, tongue, and nipples. Brantley has none—just his cock.

Butterflies roar inside of me, excitement lashing through my blood like a lethal injection of heroin. I reach for it, my hand clenching around his hardness. I feel Nate’s grip on my hips squeeze tighter and I flinch from the pain. That was fucking sore. Angry at him, I start tugging on Brantley and watch as one of the scariest guys I have ever met starts to come undone under my hand. He sucks in a breath, his eyebrows crossing as his eyes come to mine. My mouth waters and I want nothing more than to take him between my lips and suck him deep into my throat. Nate hits me hard from the back and I moan again, riding the wind of pleasure that tears through me like a category five tsunami. Fuck it. I lower my face closer to his dick, but Nate’s hand slams against my throat and clenches.

He yanks my head backward, his lips coming to my ear. “If you want to be able to walk after I’m done fucking you, I’d advise you not to wrap those pretty little lips around his cock.”

Brantley rolls his eyes, his head tilting back to rest on the sofa. “Pussy.”

I continue rubbing Brantley’s cock, his thighs clenching under my touch. A bead of cum spills over the tip and I use the cushion of my thumb to massage it over him. I’m so close. Nate’s hand comes to my tit as his cock fills me relentlessly, his balls slapping against my clit. I can feel a slight sting ring out around me down there from the slaughter, but I ignore it, dancing on the line that crosses pain and pleasure. Hot cum shoots out of Brantley’s dick and I slow my tugging to a soft massage, pointing his cock onto my tits. Brantley grins and winks at me. A small “fuck you” to Nate. But then I’m screaming in my own pleasure because my orgasm slams into me at lightning speed and I feel Nate’s cock pulsing inside of me. We’re all panting, our breaths slowing as Nate pulls out, his hot cum dripping down my thighs on his extraction. His finger comes to my i

Brantley groans, snatching the pack of smokes from the sofa and putting one in his mouth. “Fuck me. Lucky bastard.”

Nate disappears, taking his presence with him and I instantly miss his touch.

“Was. Was a lucky bastard,” he corrects as he comes back in. He shoves on his jeans, leaving them unbuttoned to hang around his hips and putting a smoke in his mouth, even though I know he hates cigarettes. He lights it and blows out the smoke, dropping onto the ground to lay on his back, watching the ceiling. I want to climb onto his lap. I want him. His touch. I want him to tell me we will get through this together. But I’m deluded. He plays with his phone, and then “American Psycho” from D12 starts playing. When the chorus comes on with Eminem, he raps it perfectly.

Madison laughs, and it shocks me because I almost forgot about her and Bishop having sex right opposite me. Any other person would be embarrassed, maybe even a little awkward, but it’s not like that with us. It doesn’t feel that way. Madison comes over to me, wasted off her head and naked up top—panties on bottom. She takes my hand and tugs me to my feet. Bishop hits the light, leaving nothing but the outside illumination of the pool spilling into the room. It’s enough to give more of a laid-back vibe, without being completely dark. I love it, it feels secluded. I’ve got to admit, the coke is lame. I don’t know why Madison has been doing it lately. I mean the guys have always done it as a party “upper,” but Madison? I need to talk to her about that one day. When I can be bothered. I yank my panties on since I was still fully naked and dance with Madison to the song until it changes.

Madison’s hands come to my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Shut up, Madz,” I whisper, shaking my head.

She kisses me on the lips, her breasts pressing against mine. She pulls back, searching my eyes. “Okay. I’ll shut up. Let’s just dance.”

We dance for hours until sweat drips off us and a soft burnt orange touches the sky.

“Baby,” I hear Nate’s soft voice from the bed. I look toward him, tilting my head. I lived through last night, and now I’m sober. “Come here.”

Like a good puppy dog, I go to him. One last time, because after this, there will be no alcohol to cloud my thoughts. There will definitely be no drugs, and finally, there will be no Nate and Tillie.