Guilty Pleasure — I I I
Sara!
Oh, Sara. I wish I listened to Dad. I wish I listened to what Dad told me years ago before he left us.
"Jimmy, people aren’t what you think they are. Understand that, boy, yeah? You know— I worry about you so much."
Dad would cough after talking for a while.
"You take after your Mom. Too kind, too soft. You think people are with you? They aren’t, boy. That’s why when you have the chance, you fuck them over and move on."
I took that literally.
More cough.
I would nod slightly, pretending to understand, because his sermons were always about women. At some point in my life— I got angry. Like— why would Dad talk to me about women every damn time, huh? Maybe he saw something in me nobody did? Oh, maybe he went through my phone and saw all the pornographic videos I watched? The odds are slim, but it could be true.
I am a sucker for boobs, man.
Slacky boobs with almond nipples.
Small upright boobs with perky nipples.
Pointy breasts with blunt nipples.
Big beautiful and bold boobs with caramel nipples.
Average boobs with areola looking like the depth of the ocean.
Muddy waters.
Oh, man!
What I wouldn’t do for boobs? Even right now in orange scrubs— heading to jail to serve a jail term, I couldn’t shake the thought out of my head. If the Judge or my DA would grant me at least a single wish, I’d like to feel the comfort of Sara’s boobs in my hands one last time. I’d like to squeeze on those precious artifacts one last time. I like it when Sara moans. It’s almost equivalent to the piper drawing out rats from all the crevices in town. Oh, I enjoy it.
The first time I knew the magics of the breasts was when I went to my buddy’s house.
Daniel Newman.
Nice little guy with all the video games in the world. And you know how kids are with that shit.
Cocaine, bro! A kid in a fucking canister. I couldn’t resist a single day without gameplay. Gameplay that ended as foreplay. You never know what you get out of life. Nobody does. I couldn’t resist gameplay. Whether it was after school hours, before school hours, in-between school hours, I was always in my gaming mood.
"Hey, bro. I gotta get some groceries, watch the house, yeah?"
"Danika would be home soon. Don’t weird her out, okay?"
He chuckled.
That was Daniel.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. As long as you have got electricity, food and water, I can wait your ass out."
"Right."
Few minutes later, the car pulled out of the driveway. Daniel was out. I don’t really like it when he goes on these errands. Takes forever to return. The house gets this haunt-y vibes. I know the grocery store is a little bit far— but. .
I heard a knock at the door.
Simple and monotonous.
Danika is home.
That was quick.
Premeditated? Who cares! I don’t give a flying UFO’s ship.
"Hellooooo, Dan? Come help me with my luggages, you lazy fuck!"
Uhh, what do I say? Uh, fuck! Okay, okay, I got it.
"Uh, Dan isn’t home. Went to get the groceries."
As I spoke, I got up to help her with her bags. Damnit! I look like them hillbillies with them cheap ass oversized jeans and black polo shirt.
Danika was at the door, waiting for my lazy ass. Shit! I am lazier than Daniel if you want to put our personalities into speculations. As soon as I got to the door— fuck! Daniel didn’t tell me his sister was this flipping hot, Damn! She had a yellow everlane air cami tank top on— with a blue tight ass faded denim jean that was so tight you could her pussy was imprinted— or as you may know it, the cameltoe.
"Oh, you’re Jimmy, yeah? Daniel told me about you. Come on, help me with the bags."
I couldn’t take my eyes off her body. Is this how the body reacts to something appealing, or am I a psychopath? Fuck! Those boobs? She didn’t even wear a fucking bra! How is that tank top even holding those melons? They feel like they want to burst right out of that clothing.
"Hey?"
Danika snapped her fingers.
"Something wrong?"
"Uhh, no, no. Sorry. I was only uhh, I was uh, yeah, yeah, I was admiring your uh, tank top. The yellow reminded me of someone. Sorry for staring."
"Oh, yeah? Who do they remind you of?"
"A friend. A friend in school?"
"Oh, yeah? So you stare at your friend’s boobs, huh?"
I guessed I must have flushed red on my cheeks— because she giggled. Danika Newman was older than me. If I want to guess the age difference, maybe five years older than me? I don’t know. She sure looks older.
"You don’t have to blush, if you want—you could touch them."
What? I acted a dummy! I only just met you, and you’re giving me permission to touch your boobs?
"Now, you shy, huh? Just now your eyes did the magic. Caressing my breasts without hands."
"Daniel would kill me."
I finally found my cowering voice.
"I am his friend, this would feel like a betrayal. A backstab."
"I don’t see Daniel anywhere here, do you?"
Danika advanced towards me. I couldn’t move. Am I under a spell? She held both my hands. They felt oddly cold.
"Touch them."
My heart was beating faster than horse hoofs on a racetrack.
Dimm!
Dimm!
Dimm!
Slowly— but calculated— I rose to the challenge. My penis literally rose to the challenge few minutes ago. My hands were on her boobs. What is this feeling? They felt like balloons filled with something viscous. Ah! That reminded me of something much present.
Sara’s.
I squeezed harder, and she moaned. I tried reaching for the nipples— but the tank top was an foreseen boundary. My hands felt like jelly, soon enough, I was under her top. All the while, Danika moaned through gritted teeth and rolled eyes. She looked like she was going through an exorcism. She heaved her chest inwards and outwards — hyperventilating. Making my hands dance to the sensual rhythm of boobs. Damn! I was wet. I was horny! I want to fuck her brains out! Her boobs were exactly as I wanted.
Big, upright, with perky nipples. Soon enough, my hands became obsolete in my mind. I needed my tongue down there. The warmness of my mouth and breath has to be in her areola region. As soon as I proceeded with this thought— we heard Daniel’s car pulling up on the driveway.
Fuck!
Danika quickly withdrew herself from my body and hurried over the steps. Halfway to the top, she stopped, wiggled her ass and disappeared into the house.
That was a long time ago, now? Now, I am being dragged away in orange scrubs and aluminum cuffs. Life’s a bitch, won’t you say?
Part Two—Sara’s Judgment.
Too bad things ended this way. I really loved that boy. Especially his long, black, flaccid dick. I really wish things didn't end this way. Maybe I shouldn't have showed up in court? I shouldn't have. But— I wanted to see his face before he's being sent to jail. Life behind bars isn't something you can prep for. Oh, my! Even now— with all these people here, I don't mind fucking him. I don't mind the audience. Since we in a court, they could judge my performance?
Ha!
I don't mind that long instrument deep inside of me. I don't mind grinding and riding that dick cowgirl style. I don't mind my creampie serving as a lubricating oil.
Fuck!
That stupid DA and judge. I hope after this they don't blab my secrets out. That little threesome we had, it was for this, for this purpose. It was so my name would remain clean and out of the press. Because I don't know what to tell my sister. It would be a damnation!
Ew!
If only she hadn't come home when she did, perhaps everything and everyone would be copacetic. Why, sister? Why would you come home then? Oh my! We were having the fucks of our lives, before you intruded. You're such a Debbie Downer!
Damn you!
I hope Jimmy is all right, though, I hope. That first blow to the head was lethal. Why the fuck isn't there a bandage wrapped around his head? Incompetence is the society I tell you!
Howbeit— I doubt he felt that hit. What hurt most was the surprised look on his face. Why? I imagined him saying. Why would you do that? Before he even recovered from that shock, another blow connected to his left temple, knocking a flabbergasted Jimmy off my body. His dick sprouted out of my pussy like a fucking flower germinating for the ground. White thick juice splashed on my flashy vagina and on the bedsheet.
As soon as he fell—I yelled.
Rape!
Rape!
Rape!
I could hear my sister dragging her foot quickly, trying to help. I heard the dull thud of bagged up groceries hitting the floorboard. I heard the faint sound of my heartbeat. I heard the ominous ticking of the clock. The cars honking into yonder in the traffic.
Dammit, sis, damnit!
Why did you have to resume so early, huh, why?
My sister burst into the room, and immediately— she yelled!
"Jimmy, what have you done?"
"Fuck!"
Jimmy couldn't talk. I knew he was hurting. He was hurting real bad. I bet he has a lot of things to feel remorseful about. He used to tell me yarns about his Dad. How his Dad told him not to trust anyone, especially women. Perhaps— his old man was right, yeah? Perhaps. Few days after that, I sued Jimmy to court. If you ask me why I did it, I really don't know why I did it. I really don't. Maybe I was covering my tracks, maybe I was scared for my reputation? All maybes. I am indecisive. Uncertain. But I had to anyways. While that didn't come easy, it was worth it. The judge and DA had such small dicks, I could hardly feel the penetration.
I am really sorry Jimmy. Perchance— some day, we would reunite. I promise to write you letters.
Send you pictures of my pussy, and boobs.
Yours in sex, Sara.
https://tristanwrites.medium.com/guilty-pleasure-part-i-d90dc00697a3
