Chapter Two - Luke

Work was shit, but when I get home, it’s worse. I see a used pudding container by the sink and then I remember. Shit – that Emma girl. My new roomie. I’m really not in the mood to deal with someone I barely know, but I don’t have much of a choice. Hell, I’m the idiot who – in a rush of nostalgia – hearing the Commander talk about his temporarily homeless daughter and his less-than-pleased bitch wife, offered to let the chick stay in my attic, of all places.

Kinda stupid. I’m especially screwed if the Commander finds out we hooked up ages ago. But it’s whatever; he won’t and it’s not like we’ll be hooking up now.

I fumble through the cupboard, but my Cheetos are nowhere to be found. When I sit down at the kitchen table, my gaze falls on Parker’s red Hot Wheels car lodged underneath the fridge. Ah, yes. Of course.

When I walk to the bathroom, there’s the sound of water running inside. Shit – that must be where Emma is now. The only problem is, the Cheetos are in there too. I hide them in the cupboard under the sink so Parker can’t find them. That kid is a sneaky little devil, I swear. I basically have to hide any junk food the little guy has too much of a liking for chips, cookies, chocolate… You name it.

Now I’m starving and the one thing I’m in the mood for I can’t get at. I knock on the bathroom door, but there’s no answer. The longer I wait, the more I think: Why not just slip in, grab them, and slip out again? If Emma couldn’t hear my knock, then she probably wouldn’t hear my quick Cheeto-grab. Even if she did come out of the shower, it wouldn’t be the worst thing… Besides, it’d be like a secret mission, like when my platoon used to sneak up on the enemy. Except this time the target would be a certain half-finished Cheeto bag.

Smiling to myself, I slowly creak open the bathroom door open and dive for the cupboard under the sink. Just as I do, the water snaps off, the curtain opens, and someone screams.

Freezing, Cheeto-bag in hand, I’m speechless. It’s Emma – hell, is it Emma? She looks hot as hell. Those curves, those thick thighs and huge, pendulous tits, it’s…

“What are you doing?” Her desperate voice shrills as she tries to cover herself. It’s a silly gesture, useless to cover all that delicious flesh with her short little arms.

Next thing I know, she’s shoving past me, rushing out of there. The towel falls to allow me a juicy look at her huge ass. I stand there for a minute, replaying what just happened and what I just saw. Goddamn – if I had known Emma had gotten this sexy, I would’ve tried to reunite with her ages ago.

As I gaze into the mirror at the dopey, stunned look on my face, the commander’s words echo in my head: “Your generosity is appreciated, colonel. However, I have heard of your… reputation from the men; how you have a certain knack with women. So, let me say this to you straight: hands off my daughter. If I hear the slightest whisper of any funny business, you’re going to find yourself shipped off to Afghanistan faster than you can say ‘whoops.’”

My hard-on droops at the thought of it: being sent miles away from home, into dangerous enemy territory once again, away from my friends, my family – hell – my son, and all because I got horny over some curvy chick.

I turn on the sink, dip my hands in the cool water and splash some on my face. And yet, if something happened one night… One chance night where we just so happened to find ourselves in bed with each other – who would have to know?

My dick is hard again, but I’m shaking my head. I leave the bathroom, Cheeto bag in hand. No. No matter how hot I find Emma, I can’t risk it. It’s not worth it.

Flopped on my bed in my room, between handfuls of the crunchy orange things, I text a few girls. First I try Kiana and Jennifer. Then, a minute or so later, I impatiently text Yvonne.

I’m soon rewarded. Literally a second later, the response to my “hey” comes back: “Can I come over now?” To which I respond: “The door’s open. I’m in my room.”

And then I wait. It was pretty ballsy, my not even going to meet her at the front door. But I’ve been subtly lowering Yvonne’s expectations since day one. The first time we hung out was at a McDonald’s. I even made her pay for her Big Mac herself. Since then, it’s been all house hangs and chilling in my room. A few minutes later, sure enough, my phone beeps to show her message: “On my way”.

I take another handful of Cheetos and grin at the ceiling. Looks like today won’t be a total shit show after all.

***

Yvonne arrives late, as usual. Although, to be fair, we never really established when she was supposed to get here. Still, by the time my rickety old bedroom door creaks open, I’m more than ready for her.

She’s wearing a modest white button-up with plain black pants.

“What – we gonna roleplay teacher-student?” I joke, rising so I can shove her against the wall. She smirks.

“Just got off work.”

This is my cue to mash my lips over hers and have our bodies do the rest of the talking. Her tongue is slow and lazy, but mine is dancing everywhere, thrusting in her lips the way my dick is going to be thrusting in her other lips in a few minutes. I rip off her ponytail scrunchie. Her long, dark hair flutters down in shiny cascades. When I start devouring her neck, the moans start up.

Huh. I’m getting hard without even getting to her pussy yet. I’d forgotten how noisy Yvonne was. I unbutton her shirt and rip off her bra. When I start stroking her breasts, the moans get even louder. She’s got nice pert little titties, perfect brown mouthfuls for me. I suck and suck and she moans and moans.

Opening my eyes, my gaze shoots to the partially open door, but then I close them again. It would be kind of funny if Emma heard us. Besides, we’re not being that noisy – yet. No, the noisiness comes later. After I’ve kissed my way all over Yvonne’s tan, heaving body. After I’ve kneaded her ass and titties until she’s shaking. After I’ve ripped off her pants, discarded her panties.

Yes, the moans really start up when my finger slips into her pussy. She’s already dripping wet, but I’m just getting started. I twirl my finger in her with one hand while I squeeze her breast with the other. It’s a slow, lazy sort of rhythm, and still, she moans like an animal in heat. It makes me feel oddly satisfied and derisive at the same time, the fact that I have such control over this poor woman. So, there’s nothing to do but up my pace and see how loud I can make her moan. Turns out, it’s pretty fucking loud. I don’t even have my dick in her but my finger alone is enough to do the job. Yvonne’s twisted in agony, her head thrown back, her eyes closed. The moans almost sound like they’re coming from somewhere else.

I’m pretty hard myself just at the sight of this deliriously pleasured woman. Yet, whenever I close my eyes, there’s someone else I’m seeing. Someone I can’t quite make out. When I open my eyes again, however, my dick has waited long enough.

I rip my fingers out and shove my dick in her. She cries out, and we both know it was what she really needed. And then, as I’m pounding her and her moans become howls, our bodies twist together with pleasure. Somewhere far away, I hear my rickety old bedroom door creak.