Chapter Three
The next day I told myself that I’d only done what I done because I was horny. It had been too long, and my base instincts took over. It would never happen again, and I’d never let anyone know.
Especially not Jordan. I couldn’t bear to think of his smug expression if he ever found out. I imagined his self-satisfied voice. Still a whore for me, aren’t you?
Before work, I took out my phone and found the voice message, my finger hovering above the ‘delete’ button.
I knew I should delete it. I was about to, but a little voice in the back of my mind stopped me. It had been so hot, listening to him. The neediness in his voice…that wasn’t something he said often. He had such a filthy mouth. I missed it. I missed the way he’d mix praise and degradation.
I used to love it. I loved it when he slap his cock against my lips and call me his good little slut.
What was I thinking! I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the memories to go away. My finger still hovered on the ‘delete’ button.
Delete it delete it delete it delete it.
But I couldn’t. I wanted to save it for a rainy day. Just in case.
I continued to go on dates with Alec. One day, he surprised me with a bouquet of flowers, and they were so beautiful, I couldn’t resist taking a photo and posting it on social media. A few hours later, I received a text from Jordan. My heart jumped into my throat as I unlocked my phone to read it.
JB: Hey. Sorry about leaving you that voicemail. Hope you didn’t listen to it.
JB: I saw your new man got you flowers.
JB: Looks like it’s getting serious.
JB: Thought you’d get sick of him but guess not.
JB: I’ll leave you alone now.
JB: But
JB: If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me. Use me like your personal dildo whenever you want.
After I read the messages, something unsettling uncurled in my stomach. It felt a lot like…disappointment. Which was stupid. Hadn’t I wanted this all along? I wanted him to leave me alone.
But maybe a part of me, deep down, enjoyed him chasing me. Wanting me. Especially because most of the time, he clearly couldn’t care less about me.
I still remember the night we hooked up for the first time. He’d taken me back to his dorm room. Like me, he lived on campus, but his room was nice. There was an en-suite and kitchenette, and it was neat with no roommates.
We sat on his bed.
“What do you like?” he asked.
“What do I like?” I repeated. I still could barely believe I was there. Internally, I was arguing with myself. It was a bad idea. I should leave.
But also, Jordan was gorgeous. Everyone on campus wanted him, and in that moment, his eyes were on me .
“I don’t know,” I said. “No one’s ever asked me before.”
“Seriously?” He looked surprised. “No guy has ever asked you what you like in bed?”
I shook my head. “They just get on with it.”
“Shit, Ella. You’ve really been missing out.” He shifted closer, his arm brushing mine, and my skin felt like it was on fire. “Do you like being eaten out?”
My heart was racing, but I shrugged nonchalantly. “No one’s been particularly good at it.”
He smiled, flashing his teeth. It made him look dangerous. “I’m good at it.” He leaned in closer, and when he murmured, his breath tickled my ear. “I love eating pussy. I bet yours is sweet.”
“I — I —”
“Nervous?” he said. “Don’t be. We’re both here to have a good time.”
“Don’t you just want to get off?” I asked.
“I want to make you cum too,” he said.
“Why?”
“Why? Why not? I’m not an asshole, you know, despite what you might think. Everyone’s supposed to have a good time during sex. Besides,” he said, sliding a hand on my thigh. “It’ll be a real ego boost when I make you cum on my cock.”
I felt my cheeks go pink, but maintained a frown. “You won’t,” I said. “I’ve never —”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Jordan said. “Now, how ‘bout we stop chatting and get to it? Because for the past five minutes, I’ve been distracted thinking about how much I want to play with your tits.”
That night was the first time a man had made me orgasm. Jordan proved all of my skepticism wrong. There was only one word for him: talented. Talented fingers, talented tongue. He got me to rest my ankles on his shoulders, so that when he thrust into me, his dick hit my g-spot perfectly.
After we finished, his bedsheets were damp with sweat, and I was completely exhausted. Jordan, wearing nothing but boxers- briefs, had padded over to his kitchenette and poured himself a glass of water. He looked over his shoulder.
“Want one?”
I nodded. He brought me a glass and sat beside me.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said, handing me the glass.
I took it and rolled my eyes.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Take the compliment.”
“Thank you,” I said, “but I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He smiled and shook his head, as if privately amused by something I said.
After I finished my glass of water, I reached over the bed, searching for my clothes. I knew it was time to get out of there.
“Hey, listen,” Jordan said. “Do you want to do this again?”
I looked at him. “What do you mean? Like a friends with benefits sort of thing?”
Jordan nodded. “You enjoyed yourself, right?”
I blushed, because there was no way I could lie. Jordan had seen the way my legs shook, the way I grabbed the bedsheets as I came.
“I wasn’t lying when I said your pussy felt like it was made for me,” he continued, referencing the comment he’d made ten minutes earlier, when we’d been in the middle of fucking.
He’d said so many filthy things. Most of the men I’d been with were quiet, but he wouldn’t stop, and it’d been so hot.
He leaned forward, grazing his fingers over my naked thigh. “I want to fuck you again.”
“Okay,” I said, after a moment. The truth was, after the mind-blowing sex, I couldn’t say no to him.
We exchanged phone contacts, and I put him down at “JB” because I didn’t want anyone to accidentally see the name “Jordan”. Then, I got dressed, and slipped out of his room like a thief in the night.
After that, every time Jordan and I hooked up, he asked me what I liked. Slowly, I opened up more. I told him that I liked it when he talked dirty. I whispered that he could be rougher. That he could pull my hair and call me a slut and fuck my mouth like I was nothing but a toy.
I’d been prepared for him to be weirded out, but he wasn’t.
He never judged anything I was into — in fact, he seemed to love how much I loved it.
When he fucked me hard and I couldn’t stop the moans escaping my mouth, he told me I sounded so hot.
Every time he degraded me, he praised me too.
I was his cumslut, but also his baby. I had a mouth made for cocksucking, but the prettiest lips he’d ever seen.
In the past, sex had been a somewhat awkward thing. I would feel self-conscious about my body, or feel too shy to express what I wanted. It was different with Jordan. I felt free. He never judged me, ever.
After our second ever hookup, where he’d been more rough than the first time, he’d pulled me close and peppered my hair with kisses.
“What are you doing?” I asked, because it felt like he was being overly romantic.
“Aftercare,” he said, cuddling me. “Ever heard of it?”
I didn’t say anything. After that, every time after sex, he’d cuddle and kiss me.
It was dangerous, because I knew my body might get confused and catch actual feelings for him.
But I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t enjoy it.
It did feel good to have rough sex then cuddle with him afterwards.
His body was big and warm, and it made me feel safe, lying in his arms.
A few times, I slept over at his. The next morning, he’d make breakfast at the kitchenette.
Pancakes, or bacon and eggs. Then he’d bring it to me so I could have breakfast in bed.
We talked, about mid-terms, or graduating, or sports, or movies and TV- shows.
Sometimes, I’d feel myself wondering what it would be like if we were together for real.
Then I had to force myself to stop. We were just hooking up.That’s all it was.
One time, I saw him at a coffee shop on campus. He was with his friends, and I was with mine. We made eye contact, and I started to raise my hand in a wave, because that was the polite thing to do.
But then he looked past me, like he didn’t see me, like I was invisible.
I lowered my hand, feeling my face go hot.
Right. We weren’t friends. We were just using each other’s bodies. Sure, Jordan might kiss me like he loved me during sex, but he didn’t. He couldn’t care less about me. I was just a convenient body to fuck.
I had to remember that.