Chemical [se]X (13 page)

I found myself wanting, needing, more. I replaced my mouth on Troy’s cock with my hand and looked to my husband over my shoulder.

“I want you both,” I told him. “I want you both to fuck me.”

He nodded.

I guided Troy so that he lay on the bed and as I moved to straddle him Nate’s hand slid between my legs, spreading the wetness back. His fingers gently probed my ass as I took Troy inside, rolling my hips as he groaned and palmed my breasts. His fingers pinched and pulled at my nipples while my husband eased a finger into my puckered rear entrance. I cried out and leaned forward.

My mouth found Troy’s and I kissed him passionately, sucking his tongue and then biting his bottom lip, continuously moaning as I felt Nate start to ease his cock into my ass. He stretched me slowly, moving in one inch at a time until he was fully inside. The feeling of having both of them in me, so full in both places, was more than overwhelming. All I could do was bury my face in the crook of Troy’s neck and let them take over. I whimpered in sweet agony as Nate fucked me from behind and Troy began lifting his hips from the bed. I felt four hands on me, running up my back, caressing my ass, stroking my hair. The scent of testosterone and sex filled my nostrils and I could taste both my husband and Troy on my tongue. Their erotic groans mixed in with my softer cries echoed off the walls of our bedroom and just a few more thrusts and I was coming again, this time over and over and over. It didn’t seem to end but just continued to circuit through me, more than I could take. Soon I felt both men tense, their bodies going taut as they pulsed inside me, panting from their own releases.

I felt drunk as I was moved once again, this time between both Nate and Troy and they both indulged me in post coital caresses. My eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep as two mouths kissed my hips, my shoulders, and my breasts, and four hands softly stroked the skin of my thighs and belly.

I woke several hours later, my brain fuzzy and my mouth parched. Troy was nowhere to be seen but my husband lay next to me, quietly snoring. Did I dream it? My swollen lips and sticky thighs told me no.

In a daze I headed for the kitchen and sure enough, the evidence of a three person dinner was still there in the sink and on our dining room table. I was in shock.

“What the hell happened?”

My hand covered my mouth and I spun, startled by my husband’s appearance behind me. Then I burst into a fit of laughter.

“I don’t know,” I said when the giggles subsided. “What came over us?”

I watched as the evening’s events played through Nate’s mind again, his features a mixture of disbelief and humor.

“Oh my god, I have no idea. I have no idea what this means, do you think I still have a job?” he said.

All I could do was shrug and laugh again.

“What the hell did you put in that cake, Theresa?” he said.

“Nothing, I-”

And then I saw it. Sitting next to the stove was that gold box I had retrieved from the top shelf of the pantry.

Ohhhhhh
.

Friendly Neighborhood Drug Dealer

Ella Dawson

I was finally done. Three weeks of smelling like Cup O’ Noodles and dust, over. Three weeks of study groups, flipping through flash cards at lunch, and sleeping on Biology textbooks in the library, finto. With this last exam I completed another semester of college and it felt fucking great. Three semesters down, five more to go. After one last check that I’d written ‘Stephanie Mills’ on the top of my test, I put down my pencil and looked around the lecture hall at my fellow students, the majority still struggling to label a diagram of the human heart. There was a chance I had confused two of the valves, but as a non-major I only needed a B- on the exam to pass the course and complete my general education requirements. The aortic valve did not determine my future—at least not academically.

As I handed in my test booklet, I imagined the night of post-finals freedom waiting for me back at the dorm. Most of my friends had exams left to study for, meaning the alcohol-infused celebration I wanted most would have to wait. Tonight was all Netflix and Dominos takeout. At long last I could roll a joint, marathon through the first season of Broad City, and eat the tube of raw cookie dough sitting at the back of my mini-fridge. Sweet, sweet victory.

I discovered the flaw in my plan when I got back to my dorm room and found my Altoids tin of weed empty aside from a few rolling papers. I dimly recalled smoking up my hall-mates before finals prep began a few weeks ago. Everyone came back from Thanksgiving break needing to unwind from family time, and I’d been the generous benefactor. But rather than be disappointed by my lack of weed, my mind lit up with possibilities; this meant an excuse to see everyone’s favorite dealer.

Aaron lived in a single occupancy room upstairs. Usually I would text him to arrange a delivery direct to my suite, which prevented noticeable foot traffic from collecting around his door. But our RA was off duty tonight and it seemed stupid to text him when he was probably a flight of stairs away. He was spending more time in the dorm than normal this week to write a constitutional law paper, the details of which he filled me in on while we brushed our teeth side-by-side in the communal bathroom a few days ago.

Plus I had an ulterior motive for paying him a visit. In addition to offering fair prices and being absurdly nice, Aaron was gorgeous. It wasn’t his short brown hair or his broad shoulders, or even the whole bad boy drug dealer thing—agricultural investments aside, he was pretty much the boy-next-door. No, it was his mouth. Aaron had the most exquisite mouth I had ever seen: two flushed bee stung lips that arched and curled into a beautiful smile. I spent most of our brief exchanges trying not to stare as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth while calculating costs. I couldn’t tell you the color of his eyes or exactly how tall he was, but I knew every crease and corner of that mouth.

When alone at night I often wondered if he tasted like smoke, and how his face would look between my thighs. That was something I didn’t include in my emails home to mom: I had a crush on the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.

Before heading upstairs I changed out of my comfy flannel and into a tank top that didn’t smell like finals anxiety. My yoga pants, however, could stay. There were times to be modest about one’s ass—err, assets—but flirting with your dealer was not one of them. My hair was a bit of a lost cause, so I pulled it into a messy ponytail and hoped I looked somewhere in the realm of dirty chic. Aaron had seen me in a mud mask wearing a towel turban so the stakes weren’t exactly high. After one last look at the full-length mirror glued to the back of my door, I stuffed a couple twenties into my bra and trekked upstairs.

There was a gentle hum of electronic music coming from Aaron’s bedroom, so my theory had been correct: the doctor was in. I knocked twice.

“Who is it?”

The music muffled his voice and he turned the volume down to hear me answer, “It’s Steph!”

There was shuffling inside and then the door swung open. For someone in the throes of an important research paper, Aaron looked remarkably put together. His curly hair was tucked under a gray beanie and sexy scruff darkened his jaw. I admired the deep green cardigan clinging to his shoulders, its sleeves bunched up just below his elbows. He smiled at me, crossing his arms over his chest, and there it was: that mouth, pink and plump. He must be the only person on campus whose lips didn’t chap during the winter. I wondered if there was a stash of expensive lip balm somewhere in his dresser.

“Hey there,” he said, either oblivious to or politely ignoring me checking him out. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?” I asked, and he stepped back to wave me over the threshold, knowing better than to discuss business in public.

Between the shut door and the low fuzz of music, there wasn’t a risk of us being overheard. “I’m out of uppers, if that’s what you need,” Aaron said, sitting down at his desk and pulling open a drawer. Within it were several Tupperware containers of Ziploc bags, rolling papers, a few bottles of prescription pills, and a small electronic scale. “Some comp sci major looking tweaked out of his mind cleared out my entire Adderall stash.”

“I just took my last final, no uppers necessary. Can I get an eighth?”

I settled on his bed rather than hover over his shoulder, and he nodded before opening one of the containers and retrieving a pre-measured baggie. “Same as usual?”

“Sounds good.” I fished the bills out of my bra and placed them on his desk. He handed me a Ziploc as he politely tried not to look at my chest. Popping the bag open, I took a big whiff like a kid on Christmas morning. Delicious.

He laughed at the delight on my face. “You do that every time.”

“Life’s simple pleasures.” I grinned. My good mood whenever I saw Aaron was not the sole result of his wares, but I wasn’t sure if he knew that. We were usually too busy to linger after a sale. Tonight, however, I had nothing to do, and he looked like he needed a study break. “How’s the paper going?”

He winced, pushing away from his desk to tilt back in his chair. “It’s… going.”

“That good, huh?”

“My argument sorta fell apart on page three so I had to start over, but I think I’m on track to finish tomorrow.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. I noticed his desk was cluttered with empty paper coffee cups and granola bar wrappers.

“Do you want me to clear out? I don’t wanna distract you.”

“Nah, stay. Chill for a bit.” He waved off my concern and resumed smiling lazily. My stomach lurched and I sat up straighter, reminding myself not to leer. Aaron was really pretty. It wasn’t my fault. The motherfucker had dimples I could fit my pinkie tips in. “Doing anything tonight?” he asked. “Celebrating?”

“I have very exciting plans,” I deadpanned. “Netflix, a joint, and cookie dough.”

“Oooh, glamorous.” Another big grin, another dip in my gut. My limbs tightened, my nerves stretching like rubber bands. I couldn’t tell if Aaron was flirting with me or being his usual warm self, and it would be stupid to make a move when I wasn’t absolutely sure it would be received well. I didn’t want to fuck up our professional relationship—provider, consumer—by consuming my provider.

“Yeah, I have a sweet tooth,” I rambled instead. “Been looking forward to that cookie dough all week.”

“A sweet tooth, huh?” Aaron avoided eye contact as he fiddled with the handle of his desk drawer. “I got in a new product you might like.”

“Edibles?”

“No, it’s candy.” He retrieved a Ziplock full of chocolates and placed it on the desk. They looked like the malted milk balls I used to eat as a little kid. “It’s new, it’s like a… it’s supposed to be a stimulant? But with sexual sort of… I don’t know, element?”

It was easy to tell Aaron was nervous. Everything he said was phrased as a question, his cheeks were turning pink, and he still wasn’t looking directly at me. It was… well, it was really cute, and a huge relief. “So what you’re telling me,” I teased, “Is that you are selling aphrodisiac chocolate?”

“Yes, uh—no.” He scratched his forehead before sitting properly in his chair, letting all six feet hit the ground. “I’m not selling them, not until I know what they’re like. Y’know, that they’re safe. Would you wanna… help me test them?” As soon as the question left his mouth he seemed to regret it, his entire face folding like a deck of cards. “Oh fuck that’s sounds weird, I’m sorry.”

I guess I wasn’t the only one in the room with a fear of rejection. “No, it’s fine,” I tried to reassure him.

He looked doubtful. “I’m not trying to drug and assault you or anything, that’s not—”

“Dude, relax,” I interrupted. “I’ve liked you for ages. There’s no… coercion here or anything.” He was still blushing but relaxed at my words, the smile that was my weakness returning to his face. Even so, my responsible Steph brain knew that barging headfirst into altered-state casual sex maybe wasn’t the best idea. “So are you asking me to try them with you, or…”

“No, I’ll try it,” he explained. “In case I start coughing up blood or something. I’m not asking you to be my guinea pig.”

“You are not instilling much confidence in your test subject,” I said with a smile, and he laughed.

“You’re not my test subject, you’re my supervisor,” he said. “Or the control group, or… something.”

“Is there anything we should, uh, talk about first?” I asked. This was always the awkward part about hookups, but Aaron didn’t seem like the type of guy to get shifty when discussing boundaries. “Like, do’s and don’t’s?”

His answer was refreshingly matter-of-fact. “Not really. I got tested a couple weeks ago, nothing to report.”

“Word, me too. And I’m on the pill.”

“Let’s just… keep it simple,” he decided. “Nothing intense, yeah?”

Like I was going to whip handcuffs out of my yoga pants. “Simple is good. I’ll follow your lead, since you’re the one eating it.”

Maybe it should have felt weird that I was about to experiment with recreational sex-drug usage with a guy I didn’t know beyond dormitory small talk, but that was the thing about Aaron: he put me at ease. It seemed perfectly normal for him to sit down on the side of the bed next to me, his knee nudging mine.

He fished out a chocolate and I tried not to watch as he brought it up to his mouth, but the world went into slow motion. His lips parted, a hint of pink tongue revealing itself as he tucked the candy into his mouth. Aaron chewed and sucked, the bones of his jaw visibly working, and I was pretty sure I would never need any chocolate to get going. I wanted to see him suck on my clit just like that.

His eyes fell closed and he rolled his shoulders back, first one side and then the other like a jungle cat waking up from a nap. Then he stretched out his fingers and cracked his knuckles. Finally his neck arched, eliciting a small pop.

“What does it feel like?” I asked, fascinated by the alertness sweeping over his body.

The Aaron who looked at me then was a different person. The lazy slump of his shoulders was gone, as was the blasé but good-natured smile. “Like everything just got simpler,” he said.