Chapter 17

Jessi

I woke up with a start as my nipples pressed against my pajamas. I felt the heat pooling between my legs as Chris’s voice echoed off the corners of my mind. This was getting out of hand. I was dreaming about him in such vivid technicolor that it sent my heart racing. My hands were shaking and the memories of my dream were there. My clit was pulsing rapidly and I took deep breaths to try and get the heat to recede.

But it wouldn’t.

Looking over at the clock, I saw it was only two thirty in the morning. Shit. I still had a few more hours I could sleep. I closed my eyes and tried to reclaim the lost time. I tried to settle my body enough to roll over and slip back into a deep slumber.

But when I closed my eyes, he was there.

I rolled over and curled up underneath the covers as my mind ran away from me. My toes were curling as I saw Chris’s face between my legs. I could feel the phantom strokes of his tongue against my pussy. I could remember the way his hands gripped onto my hips. My breathing began to shallow out as my pussy dripped with want. Soaking the pajama bottoms I had on and threatening to drench the mattress below me.

I had to get back to sleep.

If I didn’t, I was going to be exhausted in the morning.

I reached out to my nightstand and opened up the drawer. I took out my favorite toy, a miniature wand that vibrated at incredible speeds, and I switched it on. I pulled my pajama pants down and spread my legs, my eyes closed and my fingers parting my juicy pussy.

Then, his body was on top of mine.

His cock was filling me to the brim as my legs began to shake. I rolled my hips up into my toy as my mind fluttered back to his body. His etched muscles and his throbbing veins. His massive cock between my lips. Fuck. I wanted to suck on that thing until he shivered in my mouth. I wanted to taste his cum on the tip of my tongue like I had so many times before. I wanted to press him against the wall and watch him shake. I wanted to hear him beg for more as I swallowed him to the back of my throat.

My hips bucked off the bed as I chanted his name quietly in my bedroom.

I felt his hand in my hair, pulling my head back as he bent me over his balcony. My tits were flailing in the wind as his cock stuffed me full, fucking me as we watched the sun set over the water. My ass was jiggling for him and his hand was wound tightly in my thick tresses. I was up on my tiptoes, trying to keep some semblance of control.

Then, he took it from me.

I was against the wall, my legs folded up to my ears as my knees hooked over his arms. I was spread open for him as my juices dripped down onto the floor of his room. His cock slammed into me, his balls smacking my ass while I grabbed at his arms. His hair. His shirt. Anything to get leverage as he rendered me motionless.

Suddenly, I was seeing him everywhere. My shower. On the carpet. Laying on the floor while I sucked his cock. In the woods surrounded by beautiful flowers, and contorted in an airplane restroom as his hand clamped down onto my mouth. Keeping me silent and grinning at me as he called me sweet girl.

Sweet girl.

“Yes, Chris. I’m your sweet girl. Let me be your sweet girl.”

My toes curled and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. My hips reared off the bed, spasms like waves of electricity shocked my body into silence. My jaw unhinged and I could feel his lips against my cheek. My neck. My chest.

I could see him looking up at me from my tits with my nipple between his teeth.

Plummeting to my mattress, I turned my toy off and tossed it into the corner, heaving as the room spun before my very eyes. Silver stars were streaking my vision as tears blurred the darkened outlines of the decorations on my walls.

This wasn't good.

None of this was good.

I was dreaming about him. So much so that it was waking me up. It was like I was back in the beginning. Back to pining over him like I did in high school. Through college. During summers when he and Justin did nothing but hang out at the house and shoot the shit. I was masturbating to him. Begging him for things I craved all those years ago with him.

I couldn't slip back down that hole.

It almost ate me alive the first time.

I rolled over and looked at the clock. Five ‘til three. I felt my eyes closing as sleep overtook my body, the darkness reaching out for me. My body settled down and the heat was finally gone. The aching between my legs had subsided and a smile crossed my face.

Finally, I could get some decent sleep.

But my subconscious betrayed me and my mind switched gears. I watched my dream unfold as I looked down into my arms. Caleb was there. He was smiling up at me with his bright blue eyes. He was giggling and cooing, blowing spit bubbles and sucking on his thumb. I sat back in a chair that magically appeared behind me, then I felt a pair of hands descend onto my knees.

Massaging them.

Squeezing them.

Warming and comforting them.

“Want me to take him?”

I looked up and saw Chris standing in front of me, his smile broad and his dimple prominent. The same smile Caleb had. The same dimple Caleb had.

The same eyes our son had.

I jolted awake again and looked over at the clock. Just before six in the morning. I sighed and flopped back down into bed, cursing myself as tears filled my eyes.

Then, I heard Caleb. He was grunting around in his bed and looking for breakfast.

This was getting out of control, and I had to put a stop to it. I had to either execute my plan or shut him out of my life altogether.

Either way, he couldn’t stay.

I couldn't keep living my life masturbating to the idea of a man that didn’t exist.

Rolling out of bed, I went to pick up my toy in the corner. I tossed it into my bathroom sink, telling myself I’d clean it off later. I splashed some water in my face to wake myself up, listening as my sweet boy’s cries began to grow. I forgot anything else as I rushed to his room, stumbling as I crashed into his door.

I was so fucking tired.

“Come here sweet boy. I’m right here, honey. Oh, did mommy’s boy wet himself too much last night? Come here, I can fix that.”

I picked Caleb up from his crib and took him over to his changing table. I undressed him and wiped him down, then grabbed some clean clothes and a clean diaper. I took him into his bathroom and set him down in a little bath time cradle, then ran some warm water over his skin. His crying subsided as I washed him down, then I watched as his eyes lit up.

His eyes that looked exactly like his father’s.

I turned off the water as tears sprang to my eyes. I picked my boy up and wrapped him in a towel, making sure he wouldn’t mess himself in the process. I put him to my shoulder and gathered his things, then made my way to the kitchen. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I tossed his stuff onto the couch, prioritizing his need to eat over his need to be clothed.

It was happening again.

I couldn’t look at my son without a profound sadness overcoming me.

This was what that man had done to me. He had taken the joy out of my own motherhood. He’d come back into my life on the coattails of my success and fucked me over again. I cradled my son in my arms and fed him his bottle, trying to keep my eyes off of him. I didn’t want my son seeing me crying. I didn’t want his infanthood to be filled with nothing but tears from his mother.

He experienced enough of that during his first two months of life. I couldn’t allow it to happen again.

I walked him around the house as his little hands gripped tightly to my fingers. I sniffed and swallowed, trying to choke down my emotions. I couldn’t look at him. Every damn day, he looked more and more like Chris. More and more like the man I’d once loved before I had been abandoned.

Why was this happening to me? Who the hell had I pissed off so much that the world was hell-bent on ruining my life?

I sat on the couch with my son and wiped my eyes across my arm. I put on a smile and looked down at my precious baby boy, his eyes wide with happiness and twinkling with a future that still had yet to be decided. I put my nose to his and nuzzled him, watching him smile around the nipple of his bottle.

“I love you so much, you know that?” I asked.

Closing my eyes, I placed a kiss to his forehead. I allowed my lips to linger, taking in his baby soft skin and the warmth of his body. I cradled him close to me as he continued to eat. Guzzling like the growing boy he was as he tried to steady his bottle in the air by himself.

But I couldn’t detach my lips from his skin. Because even his skin felt like Chris’s.

The tears started to flow again as I held my son in our apartment. Alone on a couch, with no family in sight.