5PM (12 page)

Her cute arse is visible in all its glory, the white lacy G-string barely covering anything. She bends forward, reaching for her ankles and looking at me from between her mile-long legs—upside down. I feel a stirring in my pants as I see the small bit of material at the front of her almost microscopic underwear barely covering what’s beneath. Her eyes stare into mine, adding to the intensity of the cannabis-induced euphoria I can feel flowing through me. I feel for the button and zipper of my jeans and loosen them.

Brittany releases her grip on her ankles, grabbing the bottom of her little crop-top. With the assistance of gravity, she allows it to fall in a heap to the floor below. The white bra is tiny, but then, so are the breasts underneath—not that I mind. She lifts her upper body and spins to face me as she rotates her hips to the beat again. Signalling for me to stand up, she takes a couple steps towards me and tells me to take off my trousers.

Who am I to disobey? Already loose, they fall down to the carpet, and I step out of them and kick them away. She dances and moves my way, eventually making contact with my body, and grinding herself against me. Her hands wander up to the bottom of my T-shirt, grabbing the sides of it and moving the fabric up until I take over and pull it over my head.

“Mmm, chest hair,” she says, moving her hands up from my navel to my chest. “Boys my age either don’t have it or wax it all off. But I find it…
sexy!”
She lets go of me and takes a step backwards. She puts her hands behind her back and unclasps her bra. Her perky little breasts have pierced nipples, and I am now incredibly hard.

She walks back to me, and I’m in the weird position of facing up to kiss her sweet lips. For the first time, I notice her tongue piercing as it massages my own ravenous tongue. I press my lower body against her, and due to the length of her legs, her crotch is pressed to the area somewhere between my navel and groin area. Geez, she’s tall, and soon, she’ll be all mine for the afternoon.

She withdraws the kiss and whispers in my ear, “I’ve never had a guy make me come yet.”

“I might have to do something about that,” I whisper back. I put my fingers on the sides of her miniature piece of clothing and get on my knees. Pulling the garment to the ground, I put my face into the smooth baldness between her legs, parting them so I can kiss her deep inside. Within a few minutes time, her body shakes, as I become the first man to give her true satisfaction.

* * * * * 

I’m worn out.
After giving Brittany oral sex, we screw three times within an hour, she making sure I use a new condom each time. Now, I think about the other three blondes I’ve had sex with and the lack of protection used. I hope to hell they were at least on the pill or have an IUD inserted, so I don’t end up with any bastard children.

Brittany walks to the kitchen completely naked to get us each another beer and cider. On her return, I can’t take my eyes off her. She sits right next to me on the couch, our skin touching each other, and we each take a long drink. She gets on her knees and kneels on my leg, and I feel myself getting hard again.

“Let’s get baked before we fuck yet again,” Brittany says and reaches for the table where she put her bag of marijuana and papers. She carefully rolls another joint, smacking my fingers as I fondle her nipple piercings, giggling as I do it.

“I feel kinda creepy now. You’re nearly half my age,” I say.

“Terry, the only reason I came around today was because I wanted to get naughty with you. The first time I saw you I knew you would be able to make me feel like a real woman. It’s not that guys my age don’t want to perform like a sex god, they just don’t have the experience you do.”

“Thanks. You know it will be awkward now when you come around to babysit the kids in the mornings.”

“I’ll be okay. But we can never do this again after today. I hope you understand.” Brittany lights up the joint and inhales deep.

I take it from her and take a big puff myself.A lightness washes over me as I blow out the smoke. I wash away the dryness with a big gulp of cold beer, and I look at all her naked glory. I feel like I’m in heaven with the daughter of Satan. We smoke the rest of the joint, and we both have a giggle about nothing in particular.

“Lay back on the couch, Terry. I want to return the favour you did for me earlier.”

I do as ordered, and she leans over to take all my length inside her soft, wet mouth and does her magic. It takes just a few minutes before I fill her mouth, and with my energy spent, and the beer and pot wiping me out, it didn’t take long before I fell asleep.

* * * * *

The sound of
the front door slamming wakes me from my slumber, and Talissa is visibly pissed as she sees me open my eyes—as naked as the day I was born.

“Kids, go to your rooms,” she calls out to them before they step inside and see the mess Brittany and I had made in the lounge room. “Terry, what the fuck happened here?”

She never swears, and I sure hope the kids didn’t hear from behind the closed doors of their rooms. “I fell asleep,” I say, which technically, isn’t a lie.

“No shit, Terry! There are empty bottles of beer all over the place and it smells like,” she takes a couple of sniffs, “pot and pussy in here.”

Oh, shit. No disguising any of those smells, and for a woman, especially the latter. “I was watching porn and having a little smoke and a few drinks.”

“Do you think I’m so stupid I would buy that shit?” She spots something on the carpet near the couch. “Well, then, what the fuck are these?”

Brittany’s G-string—irrefutable evidence a female was here. I can’t tell her they belong to the babysitter, but it’s impossible to totally deny a woman had visited. “I hired a massage therapist, the type who takes their clothes off while they rub you down. I’m sorry. I had been down, and you wouldn’t answer your phone, and I needed some type of release.”

“You sick fuck, Terry. I give you what you need at least twice a week, and it’s still not enough? My mother was right about you.”

“I don’t care what the stupid bitch says about me. You know she’s fucked in the head, right?”

Talissa walks up and slaps my face, the contact stinging like a bee. I did say too much then. I know it, but the effects of the beer and pot are still with me, so I put the blame there to ease my conscience and deny personal responsibility for my words.

“You can sleep in here tonight or your office. I don’t care where really, as long as it’s not in my bed. We’ll talk about this more tomorrow. I don’t want to see your face again today you arsehole!”

She storms off and for the first time, I notice it’s past six p.m. I’ve lost so much time from falling asleep during the day over the weekend, but with all of my sexual activity from the last few days, it’s no surprise I’m so tired. I put my clothes back on and tiptoe to see if Talissa is in the kitchen. The coast is clear so I go in and grab some leftover pizza from the fridge. The pots and dishes from the shared brunch are still where I left them, and they will stay there until I know I can stay in the kitchen for a decent amount of time.

I head to the office and seek the sanctuary of my computer, turning it on and closing the door to the study. I grab what’s left of the bottle of rum and pour it into a glass. I take a short, throat-burning sip as the chat program loads again. BluesGirl88 is there, as is Erika19 and babygirlblonde. RogerU69 invites me into a chat, and as the spa scene loads, I see there are four female avatars, one being the babysitter’s avatar,Babygirlblonde.

“Hi, Terry,”
Brittany’s character says.

“Hi, Babygirlblonde. I need to chat with you in private,”
I type.

“You know her?”
Roger types. His avatar is wearing just a pair of red Speedos and sunglasses while looking like he wants to jump every female in the scene.

I get a private chat request from BluesGirl88 and then a separate one from Erika19. Accepting each one, I soon find myself in four separate chats as Babygirlblonde also accepts my private chat invitation.

“Thanks for today. You were awesome,”
the latter girl types into our default café scene.

“You left your panties at my place, and Talissa found them.”

“Hey, you, thanks for your help yesterday with the girl on the chat program. She never came to the barn though,”
Erika19 types.

I click through each chat.

“Oh, no. I’m sooooo sorry,”
Babygirlblonde types.

“Ed’s rather pissed about calling for backup though and getting slammed by the sergeant for wasting police resources,”
Erika19 continues.

“Are you gonna fucking chat or what?”
BluesGirl88 types.

I can’t keep up with it all and to add to it, RogerU69 invites me to a private chat. No one likes to feel ignored in private chat, so I pick the most volatile.
“I’m so busy here, I’m a popular man,”
I type to BluesGirl88.

“You think I only deserve a little bit of your attention? You think I’m just a virtual vagina for you to bang when you want and then kick me to the kerb when you’re done?”
she types back.

“They’re work colleagues, that’s all,”
I try to smooth her mood.

“Tomorrow is Monday, right.”

“Yes, of course it is.”

“Chat with them tomorrow then. I want your attention on me and me only, or else you’re wasting my time.”

I quickly type in the chat to Erika19.
“I feel so bad. I miss you, Hannah. I felt a spark with you yesterday.”

“I like you too, Terry, but you know we can’t do it again. If we had met when you were single, I would have only been 15, and that would have been wrong. Maybe if we live another life, we’ll have to remember our magic day and try to find each other’s soul, but you have your wife and kids, and I can’t break that up over our one day.”

A tear wells in my eye because I know she’s right. I need to fix my marriage and forget all about these other women.
“You’re right.”

“I gotta talk to you, man,”
I see Roger type in private chat. It’s probably been there for a few minutes.

“What is it, Rog?”
I type. I really don’t need four separate chats going, but none of these can see what I’m typing to any of the others, and that’s probably a fortunate thing. And I best ensure I’m in the right window on each occasion I type to someone.

“I’m getting real tired of this, Terry,”
BluesGirl88 types.

“Can you please give me a god-damned minute?”
I answer her.

“You always want a God-damned minute, you useless piece of shit.”

I close the chat and go back to Roger, who’s typed,
“I got a call from Talissa half an hour ago. What the hell have you done?”

“Why didn’t you just call me, rather than chat about it here?”
I can’t believe this shit.

“So you’ve done something bad, haven’t you?”

“Roger, it’s complicated. Can we talk at work tomorrow?”

“Okay, but promise me you’ll try to fix things tonight.”

“I’ll try, Roger. I really want to fix it with her.”

“This is all my fault for introducing you to this program. I should have known better, Terry, given how you used to be all those years ago when you were single and trying to add 1,000 notches to your belt.”

“I’m the one who should be controlling myself. I don’t blame anyone but myself. I’ll see you at work.”

I’m down to two chats now, and I check that Erika19 is still there. Thankfully, she is.
“I still think there’s something amiss with that avatar BluesGirl88, Hannah. She’s unstable and threatening.”

“We can’t do anything because we can’t nail her to a location. I think she’s using a portable device to chat on, so she can track us, but we can’t track her.”

Dammit!
“She won’t meet me in real life, either,”
I type. I decide to see if Brittany’s still online.

“I suck at typing,”
she says. Then I hear a noise through my computer’s speakers, “That better?” The babysitter’s sweet young voice is barely audible at that volume. I turn up the sound levels and she repeats herself.

“Yes, that’s better. I’m sorry I don’t have a microphone.”

“Thanks for today, you were so fucking awesome in so many ways. When I think about what you did with your tongue today, I close my eyes and lie on the bed. I take my bottoms off and touch myself imagining my finger is your wet, powerful tongue. Can you still taste me, Terry?”

I lie. “Yes, your juices still linger on my taste buds, but the taste fades from my palette, and I fear I will never have it on my lips again.”

“I hope I find another guy who can do that magic you did today, Terry. The way you made my pussy and entire body…”

At this point, I notice my son standing in the doorway. “Go back to bed Isaac,” as I unplug the speaker.

“I missed you, Daddy.” He comes up and gives me a hug and then looks at the computer monitor. “That looks like Brittany.”