In good hands
Chayenne couldn’t decide if the tune of her alarm was a blessing or a curse as she groaned and switched it off. Nothing. There had been no suspicious sounds whatsoever. Not from Wesley’s room, not from the living room, not the bathroom. Just plain nothing. Radio silence all night. Just mere days earlier she would have thanked whatever lucky star that was responsible for protecting her peaceful sleep.
Now she growled in frustrated misery because she didn’t hear Wesley fuck another woman.
What the hell was wrong with her? The thought made her grimace because if she was honest with herself, she knew the answer. But that didn’t make it any better. Nor did it erase her feelings of guilt for trying to effectively turn her coworker into a replacement for herself. A stand-in that she could observe as Wesley slowly began to discover what his massages did to someone. Someone who could freely react to it because there was no reason at all to hold back.
Someone who would give in and become the walking wet dream that she wanted to be for him. All because she could not stop thinking about how amazing those massages felt. She frowned. There was a word for that, wasn’t there? For a pervert who wanted to watch someone else getting fucked in place of themselves. As the fabric of her clothes ran through her hesitating hands she had no choice but to admit it. Thinking that Wesley leered at women, or that it was inappropriate for him to watch porn without headphones even in places where she might accidentally walk by and see it… in the end, those were excuses. Excuses she sought reassurance in because they helped to avert her eyes from the truth that the truly perverted one was her. She was the one who had willed sexual undertones into his massages from the start. She was the one going to bed with a mighty need to masturbate to him every night.
And she was the one who dropped her clothes back onto her chair in an impulsive attempt at proving… something. That with this much stimulation he would turn out to be just another ordinary horny guy? That it was all just in her mind? That she had turned into an exhibitionist who wanted to feel his eyes on her? Definitely at least one of those.
Walking out of her room in the nude was… unsettling, in a way. She knew exactly that there was a chance Suzanne was awake. No matter the reason, getting spotted by someone who was basically guaranteed to gossip about it later would be bad. But at the same time… the one she might run into instead might be Wesley. It didn’t take more than that to convince her to keep walking downstairs instead of fleeing back to her room.
What she found was a calmly sleeping Wesley on the couch. The sight was so baffling that for a few moments her brain simply refused to process it. Why? Why was he the one here instead of Suzanne? Before she knew it she had walked over to him, looking at his sleeping face. A whirlwind of emotions raged on inside her. He looked so innocent when he slept. So utterly carefree. While right next to him, practically within arm’s reach, her pussy grew damp the moment she saw his hands. It wasn’t fair. He was unfair for having shown this to her.
And she was unfair because now that she had a taste she loathed the idea of ever handing this special privilege over to anyone else.
Which was wrong, of course. The whole point of this plan of hers was to make sure that he would be lavishing that kind of attention onto someone else. Someone who didn’t need to flee from it only to uphold some semblance of modesty and common sense. Someone who could kneel down and take his magical fingers into their mouth and suck them as a way to wake him up so horny that he would need to relief that pent-up pleasure by using them.
Someone who could freely do what she began to imagine doing in painfully vivid detail.
Only the noise of shaky steps down the staircase managed to yank her out of her reverie. With a mix of panic and arousal she realized she had gone to her knees to get a better look at him. No way could she let herself be found like this. She left the living room just in time to slowly pull the door shut while casting a stern look at Suzanne who in turn just seemed deeply puzzled.
“Shhh. He’s sleeping there. Don’t wake him up.”
“Wasn’t going to,” the disheveled woman remarked even as an impish smirk flickered across her face that implied otherwise. “But have you seen my clothes anywhere? Something tells me showing up anywhere like this won’t exactly go as intended.”
Of fuck, had she ever seen those clothes. Especially how they slowly got stained with the unsuspecting woman’s fluids as his massage had caught her way too unprepared. “I guess he put them in the wash for you. He’s meticulous like that.” Not to mention that it was his fault to have gotten them wet to begin with, her brain wanted to add. Only to realize right after that it would be plain factually wrong. Not Wesley had gotten her colleague into that position last night. Not even his massages—though no doubt they were where the pleasure had come from.
The only reason her slightly annoying but ultimately innocent gossip loving beauty of a co-worker had woken up nude in an unfamiliar house had been Chayenne’s own perverted decision. She knew how fucking wrong it was and yet…
“So? What’s the verdict, your Honour?”
Suzanne’s eyes sparkled. She enjoyed this way too much. Surely she couldn’t have noticed how desperately Chayenne wanted her to think well of her cousin?
“I really thought you were making a fool out of me in the beginning.” Suzanne’s heart sank. “But damn, I would probably do anything for more of those massages!”
“Right? Believe me, you haven’t even seen the best parts yet. After all, last night was just a warm up.” “C’mon, now you’re pulling my leg. If they were that good you’d never share but rather keep them all for yourself. I know that’s what I would do!”
“You said that out loud.”
“So what if I did? A this level it’s already enough to make me pass out and wake up in only my birthday suit in his bed! Any better than this and I’ll lose my mind and never want it back. Something that amazing can’t be real.” Hearing the pretty woman say that so casually while baring every inch of her skin did not help at all because Chayenne was all the more able to relate to that sentiment. And right now absolutely nothing could hide if she failed to keep her mind from wandering. “Fuck around and find out if you doubt it.” The flippant remark was meant to lighten the mood, which caused her to have rather mixed feelings when her co-worker seemed to stare right through the wall with x-ray view considering them in earnest: “Y’know… I really might.”
Didn’t this mean her plan was working? Then why did she feel so horribly conflicted?
“Not before work today, right?”
“Speak for yourself,” Suzanne chimed as she brushed against her to reach the door to the living room, “I got today off and clothes to find. Surely he knows where they are. Right?” The innocent doe eyes that accompanied those words were so obviously faked that they almost made Chayenne ignore how soft Suzanne’s skin had been. Or how warm. Or how unnecessarily erotic that touch was. How his fingers would have no trouble sinking right into willing supple flesh and kneading it until she would be unable to think about anything else.
All in all Chayenne was proud of herself for making it to the privacy of her bedroom before her hand flew between her legs. What was going on? This wasn’t like her! Though no matter if it was or not, right now she needed to cum. To Wesley. To whatever Wesley would do to Suzanne instead of her. To the fact that she wanted him to do it to her.
The ringtone of her phone almost went unnoticed in her frenzy. Not even as she fished for it on her bed was she able to tear her fingers away from herself. Seeing that the message was from Levin was enough to make her sob. She should tell him. She should tell him that he shouldn’t leave her alone this long. She should pull herself together and go about her day.
At least she should probably read what he wrote.
Instead she hit record, the camera capturing exactly how she sobbed and rubbed and moaned. She was too horny for words, be it understanding or reproducing them. All she could think about was that her body felt incredibly good to the touch. That she wanted to be caressed. And seen. She wanted to no longer worry about these feelings and so she let them burst out of her. Wordlessly but by no means silently as her fingers brought her right to the edge. And stopped.
Just for a painful fraction of a second. But to her quivering, lust drunk mind it felt like an eternity before her fingers resumed as soon as her orgasm was out of reach. Why? Why could she not bring herself to cum?
Not for lack of trying, that much was clear. Each time it happened she doubled down on her efforts. And finally, right as she thought something might be wrong, there was no holding back anymore. Her sensitivity had been ramped up by sheer anticipation until just the slightest movement was still too much friction. She cried out, desperately clamping her hand over her mouth to try and muffle it to whatever pointless extend she could before realizing that at some point between denying herself and getting swept away by her climax anyway her finger had stopped holding down the record button. With an almost hysterical laugh she stared at the device. Was she really going to send that?
In the end it wasn’t even a question. It made for a rather fresh reply to his message that let her know his business partners needed him to stay only three more days. The thought almost triggered another outburst of laughter. Just three more days. Before she knew what she was doing her fingers had followed the video up with the only words her brain could really come up with. What are you doing to me?
Three days ago she would have considered that span to be laughable, a trivial inconvenience at most. Then again, three days ago she would have never even considered that she could be in such a messy situation. Although on her way to work she tried to calm herself with the thought that even back then it would have made her rather concerned to leave any of her friends alone with him. Any of her pretty, undressed friends. Who seemed more than eager to get to know him better.
All day long Chayenne had to work hard to convince herself that this did not make her want to touch herself. And yet for the second time ever she locked herself in to use the semi-privacy of a bathroom stall when finally her fantasies ran wild no matter what she tried to distract herself with.
It simply wasn’t fair. Knowing that she had been the one to set the two up to begin with didn’t help. In the end even now she didn’t want to be at work. But rather rush back home and beg Wesley to touch her anywhere she could get him to. The massages were but a pretense that she could take advantage of. What had changed in that short span of time since she began to live alone with him? What besides her, that was. She calmed herself as best as she could before leaving the bathroom, making sure to make herself presentable as best as she could. Always wondering if all she would have to do would be put on a little bit more makeup or maybe try a different outfit for Wesley to get interested in using her as a volunteer more. Fuck, just the shadow of that idea passing through her head forced her to fight back a moan.
Unsuccessfully, if the disapproving glances from others were any indication when she finally returned to her workplace. Only a few of her friends gave her knowing smiles and with conspiratory whispers gave her a few comments about how risky it was to flirt with her boyfriend on the phone during work hours. If it wouldn’t in some way save her, Chayenne would have probably told them to keep their noses out of her business.
Except she far preferred to make people think she and her boyfriend had such a wild and adventurous routine over anyone finding out that she just teased herself to orgasm to the idea of Wesley slowly but methodically experimenting with all sorts of techniques on her while she lost her mind to the absurdity of her arousal.
That really scared her the most, as she forced herself to put on her customer service smile and somehow fought her way through hours of work and piles of tasks that needed attention. She really was losing her mind. There was no sugar coating it. No deceiving herself into thinking she was just putting up with the status quo to whatever extend that still existed until her parents and his mother returned from their vacation. Of course she tried but the cold, deeply unsettling truth caught up to her every time. Something in her mind had broken and refused to snap back together after he touched her. And the worst part was that she recognized this and felt tingling pleasure course through every fiber of her being. It had been easy in the beginning to claim that she would do anything to get more of that. Pavlovnian conditioning was something so many people wanted to believe was far too primitive to work on them, but Chayenne knew enough studies to have accepted that if it was maintained for long enough, basic clicker training was a simple psychologic method that could be applied to the mind of a person as easily as to that of a dog during obedience school. Scholars might claim that human brains were more complex than even the most advanced super computers, but in the end the guidelines that made them work were so primitive that they still followed the age old rule: if something’s nice, get more of it. She could understand that this was in some way what had happened to her. She knew how good those massages felt and just like she would make the choice to visit the same massage parlor again if their service was satisfying, she wanted to get more of Wesley’s technique.
But something else was happening at the same time and she couldn’t rationalize that. During her time in the bathroom she had noticed Levin had seen her video. Of course he had. He had been incredibly happy, something that left her with the most muddled of feelings. And he had responded to her question with a simple two words. Edging you?
Edging. The word had such a foreign sound to her. Chayenne had noticed once or twice that Levin entertained the idea of drawing out a woman’s pleasure but… she had never known he was that elated at the idea of intentionally denying his girlfriend her climax to find out how much he could stimulate her before it was too much. Now she knew beyond a doubt, he had made that pretty clear. Three days ago it would have made her irritable that he didn’t have the guts to openly tell her, just like it would have made her appalled at the thought of him doing that. Not that she judged him for his interests, it simply was very much not something she wanted to engage in.
Not until this morning. When she had done it over and over again, without even really having known or cared to memorize that this was a fetish in its own right. As soon as she had been certain nobody would ever know she had allowed her own instincts to completely turn all she thought to know about her own preferences onto its head until she caught herself furiously jumping into actions she never even considered before. And she thought about Wesley all the time while doing it. Earning his approval. Enticing him. Making him as madly lust after her as she had begun to lust after him. It had taken a while for her to stop and think about it, but now that she did it was blatantly easy to count two and two together and realize his massages, his words or whatever else he did—she desperately pushed herself to not think of his cock—had done something to change her.
The problem was that as she packed up and went home, that thought put a spring to her step and had her hum all the way. Because as sure as Chayenne was that he had broken something important in her mind, as much was she thrilled to see Levin react to this new her. If he liked it, then was this change not somehow a good thing? All she had to do now that she realized this was to stick to the plan. Let Wesley practice on her as much as he ever desired and wish him well in his relationship with Suzanne. What could possibly be wrong about that?* * *