Chapter 5
SPENCER
April sways her way to the sofa in the living room and sits on the edge of the cushions. Her facial expression is tight, but she splays her arm out to indicate the television.
Bold choice for screening options, but I like the enthusiasm.
“Again, I need to ask, as the mature one here. Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask and sit on the other end of the sofa. My thumb is already busy connecting my phone to the screen.
“Stop questioning it and just do it.” April is a little on edge, but that only makes me grin because I am curious for her reaction.
I lean back against the back of the sofa and get comfortable. I hold the remote out in front of me ceremoniously.
“Here we go,” I announce.
Glancing to my side, I see that April is playing with a strand of hair at the back of her neck, nervously twisting the gold lock around her finger.
Hitting play, I bite my bottom teeth into my upper lip because it’s not every day that this situation arises. And truthfully, I only watched thirty seconds, I haven’t actually watched this in full.
My eyes focus on the screen. Conveniently my phone was on the desk dock which meant we got a frontal view of the bed where April and I stood in an argument.
I’m holding April by the waist as her hands grip my shirt. Admittedly, we are in an intense stare-off. Leaning in, I tangle my fingers into her hair. She doesn’t flinch.
“You’re despicable,” she whispers.
“Good thing you hate me then,” I murmur against her cheek as I pull her hair gently to bring her neck into a perfect angle for me.
“Insufferable.”
“Feeling is mutual,” I hum near her skin, a scent of sugar hitting me.
But then time stops, and I’m not sure who made the move, but our lips slammed together in a kiss. A hard, messy kiss that was equally energizing and addictive.
Different angles. Short gasps of breath. We seemed to be on a determined road to a destination that we were not quite sure of.
I watch the screen where April is tugging my shirt.
“See, I’m going to call that as you made the first move,” I comment.
“Fuck off, Spencer, can we just watch this in silence?”
Looking at April, I see that she's pulled a cushion tightly into her lap, and she's looking intensely at the screen.
My eyes track a journey to the screen, back to April, and return to the movie where I’m pulling her dress down with no politeness.
“You have no respect for expensive clothing,” she one-tone quips.
“Oh yeah? You have no idea how to work a buckle.”
“This thing. It’s a pain. Why won’t it come off?” April says in a breathy tone as she looks down at her hands that are fumbling with my belt.
“April. It’s a belt.” I slow us down and give her knowing eyes as I show her how to unbuckle the basic accessory.
Her response is to push me back on the bed. “Asshole.”
She’s in a black bra and panties and is now straddling me, her pussy right on top of my cock.
Using my arms, I walk myself up to sit, her breasts tight against my chest, and I reach my hands up to unclasp her bra, and when I kiss the curve of her shoulder, I notice my phone on the docking station on the desk.
“April,” I say softly.
“Shh. Don’t speak.” She continues to attack my neck with her mouth.
I bring my hands to her shoulders to pause her. “Wait.”
It gets her attention, and she looks at me as I peel myself away from under her, depositing her body to the side in the process like a toss of a ball into a glove.
“What the hell.”
I walk to my phone. “Fuuuck.”
“What now?”
“The video is on.” I reach my thumb out to stop it.
“Don’t!”
Creases form on my forehead as I look at her, my hand frozen in mid-air, and I feel an entertained smirk forming. “Don’t? As in, let it keep recording?”
April is sitting on her knees, and I’d be lying if I said she didn’t look cute as fuck with her tits pushed together between her arms at her sides.
“Now you’re shy?” Her sass never fades.
“No. Just surprised you would want the proof for later that I’ve made you come more than once.”
She snarls a sound. “Don’t set yourself up for failure, sailor.”
With that I give up on my phone and return to the bed in a flash, pin her down by her wrists above her head against the mattress, and urge her thighs open with my knee because I have a point to prove.
In the present, I feel April looking at me.
It causes me to glance from the movie to April who immediately turns away when I catch her.
She appears warm, or rather hot, and definitely bothered.
Her legs are crossed rather tightly, and I have no qualms about admitting the fact that my cock is twitching against the fabric of my jeans.
“Want me to pause? Take in the fact that you were the adventurous one?” I haven’t forgotten what she let slip earlier. It makes a little sense where her logic was that night and what a tool her ex was.
My guess is he couldn’t deliver and placed the blame on April who is by no means a bore in the sack.
“No.”
I slide along to couch closer to her, well aware that she is watching pre-season me licking her senseless with her body writhing under me while I had to use my hands to hold her hips down.
“Not an inch closer,” she grits out.
“Why? I already notice that your hand is under the cushion. It’s okay. Now isn’t the time to be shy,” I encourage her.
Her eyes dart in my direction. “Don’t even suggest it.” The movement of her chest bounces up and down, and the nipples under her shirt are hard. I don’t see the outline of a bra which means there isn’t one.
I unbutton my jeans and unzip. “Do what you want, but I’m not going to stay constrained. Luckily, I’m king of this house and can do as I please.”
April’s jaw drops, but her eyes don’t tear away from my hand that dips into my jeans.
“You really just want to watch? Your body isn’t aching to be touched? Don’t have a toy you packed?” I cast my doubt.
“Oh, trust me, it’s more adequate than you.”
I cluck my tongue. “I think the screen proves that theory wrong.”
Quickly, she looks to the television where her fingers are threading in my hair as I lick her clit and bring two fingers inside of her. The volume is on low, but her moan is apparent.
Her eyes dart back to me, and she nibbles her bottom lip in contemplation before tossing the cushion to the side to make a point.
“You do your thing and I do mine, okay?” she breathes out.
She sinks her body into the sofa and her fingers disappear under her waistband, but her face is turned forward to watch.
On the screen she is about to come. I remember it well because she tasted like fucking strawberry shortcake, and as the sound in my living room confirms, she screamed my name and a flurry of F-bombs.
Making her come for some bizarre reason felt like a win, better than striking the batter out. I was determined to fuck her hard, and that meant making her come because I’m a team player.
I had only given her a few seconds to recover before I was pulling her by the arms up to sitting, and my ass is now in full view since she wrapped her mouth around my cock, as if she was eager.
Present me has my palm stroking my length, and April’s knee gently drapes near my own as she spreads her legs to get a better angle.
The camera position meant we only get to see the outline of April’s hands holding my hips and her head bobbing. But I remember the way she took me as deep as she could go, and her tongue glided along my cock.
“That’s a good girl,” I praised her.
“You’re right, if they only have this part of the video then it is all you, well, your ass, but mostly you,” she comments, her voice breathy.
Looking to my side, I see that the loose fabric of her top has sunk low enough that I get a peek at her hard nipple. She is assessing me, and she knows what I want, which is why a sly smile curls on her mouth, and the fingers on her free hand find her nipple to play with.
“Your tits are always pert.”
“Tsk-tsk, you should be watching the video.”
“I think we both know that you took me to my edge before I slammed into your pussy with my cock where I made you come twice.”
Her lips part open, and her arm with her hand in her shorts picks up speed, as does my own efforts on my cock.
We both glance to the screen where I had positioned myself over her, wrapped her legs around my waist, and worked my way inside her wet and tight walls until we both moaned in sync.
The next few minutes are a blur. A mixture of watching our present selves get off and our video selves move in different positions during sex.
Video us were not delicate. April bounced on top of my cock as I thrusted up, I pumped inside of her with her leg over my shoulder as I kept her under me, and finally, we are on to the pièce de résistance, doggy style.
But I only watch snippets, as does she. Instead, our eyes are trapped in a locked gaze that our current selves somehow find sensual.
I want to slide my hand up her thigh to feel her, to soak my fingers in her readiness then bring her fingers to my mouth for a taste before she touches my cock.
But that’s not our game right now.
Tonight is about watching.
The sounds from the television are only upping the ante.
In both timelines, we are almost there.
“You’re going to come while watching me inside of you?” I husk.
“Uh-huh.” She's in a daze of desire. Humans always act differently when an orgasm is at play.
The lids of her eyes hood closed, and my own pace runs hard.
An explosion of screen us and present us happens as we all come within seconds of one another, my heart rate fast as we come down, only for us to look at one another, and reality hits us like a ton of bricks.
We sit there in silence as the video comes to a stop. That night, she quickly dressed and told me to delete the video; in fact, she watched me delete the video and left.
Now we both try to straighten our clothes after watching our replay because I forgot my phone auto syncs to my cloud, or maybe deep down, I just ignored that piece of knowledge.
“See, we had good angles,” I attempt to joke.
April’s lips quirk out. “I mean, as far as performances go, then I think we hit it out of the park.”
“I guess. I’ve never made a video, so can’t compare.”
Surprise fills her face. “Bullshit.”
“No, really.”
“Oh.”
My shirt that I used to clean my stomach, I form it into a ball and throw it across the room in the direction of the laundry room.
The mood in my house has shifted, as you would assume happens when you decide to watch a sex tape that you made with a woman who costs a lot of energy, yet for some reason, I feel a slither of sympathy for her within me.
April abruptly stands. “We will never speak of this again.”
Before I can even say, "Here we go," she storms out.
There goes any prospect of having a discussion with her tonight.
Which is a shame because if she is going to stay here, then I need to share something else.
I blow out a breath because sometimes I still wonder how in the world I became a dad.