Chloe
It never feels right, coming home to an empty apartment.
I can tell the living room is vacant without even turning on the lights. The television screen isn't lit up with Keeping up with the Kardashians or old Bogart films like it usually is when Cassie is home, and there's no faint scent of an uncorked bottle of Moscato lingering in the air.
I slip off my heels and pad through the plush carpet of the living room into the kitchen in the dark.
When I pop the fridge open, the inner light emits the same kind of soft golden glow that you imagine hangs around heaven. It's a total joke, though, because our fridge is kind of a hellscape right now. Chinese takeaway containers, beer and our fancy water pitcher that turns the gross tap water from the kitchen sink into something halfway drinkable.
I pour myself a big, tall glass of it and do my best to avoid the takeaway containers. Who knows how long those things have been in there. Probably, we're growing some kind of fungus-based ecosystem in the chow mein at this point.
Like keeping pet sea monkeys, only way, way grosser. Swerve!
The water is perfectly cold on my tongue. It washes all the swears and insults I've been holding in my mouth from the journey home right down my throat.
I don't consider myself an angry person or anything, but man. Fuck traffic. Sometimes, you get the sense that you're the only one who knows how to drive around here and the rest of the fuckwads on the road learned their vehicular skills from playing Grand Theft Auto or some shit.
Easing all the tension out of my shoulders, I make my way down the hall towards Cassie's room. She's got the cutest little Gucci Dionysus bag that I'm just dying to borrow for this weekend. Since she's not home, you bet your sweet ass I'm tiptoeing in there to see if it matches the jacket I want to pair it with.
But then I hear it.
A little sound.
Something between a mouse’s squeak and a muffled murder mystery scream.
The rational part of me is like, Chill babe. Probably a rational explanation for it. Nooooo need to panic.
But, the rest of me is shrieking insistently, MURDERER! KIDNAPPER! OMG! PANIC!!!! PANIC HARD!!!!!!!
And guess which one of those thoughts my bitch ass gives into?
I sprint to the bathroom and grab the first weapon I can find, then burst into Cassie's room, brandishing the plunger like a sword.
"AAAAAAAH!" Cassie shrieks in terror.
"AAAAAAAH!" I shriek simultaneously.
"WHAT THE FUCK?" shouts Ethan, turning around and clutching the sheets around his fine ass like a virgin teenager who just got walked in on by his mom.
Look, in my defense, Ethan was stabbing Cassie all right. It's just, he was stabbing her with his dick, and from the looks of things, he was stabbing her somewhere that she liked.
"Uh," I say, always a paragon of wit and charm. "I'm just gonna…"
"Yeah, I think you'd better," Cassie giggles.
"I'm sorry!" I say, barely able to keep a straight face. "I'm not used to having to knock on each other's doors!"
"Always a pleasure, Chloe," Ethan says, blushing and giving me a little John Wayne nod.
I sink into my bed in my own room and try not to think about what's almost definitely picking up where it left off across the hall right now. It's not that Ethan isn't attractive or anything. It's just really weird seeing him fucking someone who looks, well, pretty much exactly like me.
Especially when I have a different smoking hot piece of man candy on my mind.
Ugh. But no. I shouldn't text Aaron right now. The last thing I want him to think of me as is needy.
Instead, I flip open my laptop and continue my chat with Ms. Winters. Our previous chatlogs are on the screen, but I'm ready to try a new angle.
Tell me, I type into the input box. What's a classy lady like yourself doing with your free time?
I expect a little bit of a delay, but I can see that she's writing her response immediately.
What free time, cupcake? she writes back.
Ugh. She’s hilariously good. Cupcake! Like Mr. BadBoy is some kind of dessert.
Which, I guess, he's sort of supposed to be. Just like a cupcake, in fact. The kind that you feel a little guilty about after you eat it but, when you think about it, you have to admit that you enjoyed it the entire time.
I lay back on my bed, thinking of something clever to say in response, but then I look at my screen and see she's typing again.
Although, I'll admit that I do love a good creampie, Ms. Winters writes back.
My jaw just about slams into my mattress in surprise, although I could hardly tell you why. That's typical Ms. Winters. Entirely. Says whatever the hell she wants, whenever the hell she wants to. Double entendres abound.
And no matter what you say back to her, she's always got a witty little comeback to snap your way without missing a beat.
If I were a lesser man, I'd say you were suggesting something, I type to her.
Darling, you are, and I am.
My heart skips a beat. For a second, it's like I really am Mr. BadBoy. Falling into her sinister little web of seduction. Then she sends a follow-up:
You should know that baking has always been a passion of mine ;)
Sounds like you enjoy your indulgences piping hot, I write back with a giggle.
Naughty! You're being even fresher with me than my cinnamon rolls.
Do those cinnamon rolls come with icing, or should I bring my own?
Mmm. I adooooore icing. I'm sure I could help you whip up a batch.
We could use my special recipe, I suggest, but admittedly, I'm fucking losing it. This is too hilarious and if I keep laughing like this, I'm not going to be able to keep up with Ms. Winters' infamous wit.
Sounds like you're looking to put a bun in my oven, she writes back, and that fucking slays me.
I'm going to have to bring you a different kind of icing if you keep being such a tart, I write back. Remember to miss me.
I'll think about it, Ms. Winters says back. She signs off before I do, cheeky little cunt.
All of this dirty talking has my juices flowing. And not just my creative juices, either. It's sexy, going head to head with Ms. Winters in such a battle of wits!
I can see perfectly the way she works her magic. She reveals little bits and pieces of herself, hiding behind her sexuality the way normal women usually hide their sexuality behind who they really are.
Small talk with Ms. Winters comes with big implications. She's so candid about her cunt and tits that she must leave men popping boners when they imagine something so simple as the color of her eyes.
But falling in love with Ms. Winters isn't exactly on my to-do list for the night. In fact, the only thing that I have planned for the evening is a little dirty talk on my own time.
I reach for my phone and start composing a message to Aaron. Imagine my fucking surprise when, just as I'm about to hit send, my phone buzzes as he messages me first.
How do you feel about cinnamon rolls? the text reads.
I nearly fall off my fucking bed. Nooooo way.
He sends me another message. This time with a picture. He's currently out somewhere, half-way through a bite of a cinnamon roll nearly the size of his head.
I get butterflies in my stomach at just the sight of him. Sexting has gotten even hotter because I know what Aaron looks like. And feels like.
Aaron makes me want to lick my damn phone screen and not just because of the massive cinnamon roll in the frame. It's not the only thing in that picture that looks good enough to eat.
Doesn't look like it's gonna fit, I text back with a giggle.
I get that a lot.
Late night craving?
Only for you, he messages back.
Which, obviously, makes me melt.
How's the icing? I ask.
Nice and hot. Want me to save you some?
Loooooove icing, I send back with a giggle. Maybe I'm learning a thing or two from the Ms. Winters School of Seduction after all.
Yeah? Where you want it?
In and around my mouth, baby.
Anytime you want. The special recipe, just for you.
I toss my phone back down on the bed and reach into my nightstand, grabbing my vibrator instead. As I ease it between my legs, I'm not surprised to find that I'm already slick. Sticky, even. Just like a cinnamon roll.
I gently turn the vibrator up to full blast and imagine lying back on a bed of fluffy cinnamon and sugar dough while Aaron's cum shoots all over my face and body.
When I lick it up, it's sweetly delicious. Melts in my mouth like cream cheese frosting with just a hint of cinnamon.
I orgasm thinking about it, grinding the vibrator against plenty of cream of my own.