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You and your boyfriend had gotten into another argument. Another stupid argument that had no real resolution.
“You spend so much time with him, he may as well be your boyfriend.”
“What’s the point of keeping me around if you’re gonna go off with some other guy?”
“Look, I just don’t like how close you are. It’s not fair.”
All of which would be completely valid points. You are too close to Peter. Really and truly. You are closer than skin. It’d always been that way, though. Since middle school, when he showed up the first day of sixth grade with braces and busy eyebrows and thick Coke bottle glasses. And you, who hadn’t lost your baby fat yet. Who hadn’t gotten the memo that all the girls were shaving their legs.
You’d both had gym first period. He’d taken a dodgeball to the face so you wouldn’t have to. You’d spend most of your lives continuing on in that way, protecting each other.
It wasn’t fair for some stranger to come along and try to encroach on a territory they didn’t understand. Sure, he was your boyfriend. You liked this guy.
But he wasn’t Peter. He’d never be Peter. And that was okay. But for him to form an opinion on Peter was something else entirely. For that opinion to be negative was unacceptable.
The resolution was to cut Peter off. To go no contact.
You said you’d think about it.
Instead, you left your dorm. You were already walking there when you called Peter, “I need to use your dorm to study. He’s being a dick again.”
You know he’ll say yes before he does. You know he’ll be on patrol, but you have an extra copy of his room key. The RA knows your face and name.
You can be without a boyfriend. You can’t be without Peter.
-
Holy fuck. That’s you.
Well, maybe not exactly. The girl on Peter’s laptop screen is contorting her body in a way you don’t think you’re bendy enough to achieve.
But fuck, does she look like you.
Her hair texture, color, and style. The same skin tone, the same freckles and moles in the same places. She’s staring back at the camera with sultry, come-hither eyes the same shade as yours.
You feel a little strange sitting alone in his room now. You needed to borrow his laptop for a last-minute assignment. Really, you hadn’t meant to snoop. But what kinda pervert just leaves his porno tabs open?
Your best friend, Peter. Apparently.
There’s more tabs open with the same actress. One where she’s riding a dildo in her bathroom with a hitachi wand pressed to her clit. Another where she’s sucking off the cameraman, complementing his cock in a voice that definitely could’ve been yours, with plenty of eye contact towards the camera. Here’s another where Camera Guy fingers her until she squirts all over his hand, his face never in the frame.
There’s probably no ulterior motive for that.
A new tab reveals a different video. This time, no faces are shown at all. The girl is getting fucked from behind, her face pressed into the pillow beneath her. She moans and writhes, playing it up. Her voice was muffled, muted around the fabric pressing against her face. Her pink, glistening pussy and puckered asshole the center of attention while the guy rams into her. Her back is in a deep arch, ass in the air.
The man reaches over, grabs a fistful of her hair to rear her head back. And oh, would you look at that? You must’ve gone to the same salon or something because once again, her hair is exactly like yours.
This could mean nothing.
The next 3 videos you watch could also mean nothing. Girls that look like they could be your twin getting railed by men who obscure everything from the neck up or use masks to hide their faces. To make it easier for the viewer to project themselves onto.
The search results for porn actresses with your skin tone and body type could be a coincidence, too. You’re conveniently attractive, sure! Some of your attributes could translate into spank bank material!
The videos are not concrete proof your friend of almost eight years wants to sleep with you, though! You’re crazy. Yep. You’re being a pervert and you are crazy and-
I stole her panties out of her laundry basket while she was in the shower. It was either that or try to shower with her-
And this was Peter’s…Peter’s blog.
Must be. His name isn’t on it but he’s logged in still. You weren’t in danger of stumbling across it since you didn’t have an account on the site. You didn’t realize people even used Tumblr anymore.
But you were wrong. Silly you.
We share everything together, but I can’t tell her. I can’t lose her, too.
You wet your lips, your stomach flips. You should look away, you should just finish your homework, and forget you ever saw it.
But you keep scrolling.
He tells the whole 10 people who follow him all about what he would do to you if he had the chance. Every time his skin brushed against yours, every time you’d spend the night in his bed. Clothed, chaste, and curled up tight against the wall. Away from him.
How he wanted to touch and taste but he resisted. How he wanted to kiss you in places that no one else had ever seen, let alone touched.
There are gifs. Of course there are gifs. What would a tumblr blog be without gifs? Black and white scenes tastefully done. Men with no faces, girls with facial features that looked like yours.
He imagines that you are these girls because he can’t have you.
I wonder what she looks like when she cums.
Christ.
You really shouldn’t be getting turned on by this. This is a violation of Peter’s privacy. This is a violation of your privacy. Two more posts down, he tells the small bubble of people who follow him that he pressed your underwear to his nose while he fisted his cock.
I couldn’t finish. I got so lost in it, in the way she smelled. I got so close, but when I realized she wasn’t really there, I went soft. God. I can’t even masturbate anymore. It isn’t a want.I need her at this point.
Your hand moves between your legs, subconsciously. You cup your sex over your leggings. Peter would lose his mind if he saw you like this: aroused, alone, and in his bed no less. Another post says he can smell your arousal on your skin when you think no one notices. Maybe he’d smell it on his sheets.
Your hand moves under your leggings, under your panties. You want to leave the scent of your cunt behind. Give him just a little more to obsess over.
You fall into his fantasy. Your thoughts mirror his. What would he taste like? How would his body feel against yours? What does his cock look like?
It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before while you touched yourself. But this unfiltered look into Peter’s mind made your entire body flush, gave the thoughts new life. Your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat.
You run a finger through your folds, teasing yourself while you scroll his dirty thoughts about you. You slide a lone finger inside, curling it inward.
He likes doggy style the best. He talks about your ass, how nice it looks in your skin tight jeans. How he wants to tear your pants and underwear off at any given opportunity and-
“Shit, sorry!”
Peter freezes, stuck halfway in and out of his dorm room window. His mask falls to the floor, his suit shadowed by the street lamps outside.
You slam the laptop shut, jerk your hand out of your pants, “Pete-“
“I-“
“I shouldn’t-“
“It’s-“
You bite your tongue. He just looks at you, unable to complete a full sentence.
“You should,” You swallow thickly, “You should come inside before someone sees you.”
You wince at your choice of words. He nods, stunned, before swinging his body the rest of the way inside. He shuts his window.
He doesn’t look back at you.
“Petey…” You coax, “It’s okay.”
“You saw…all of it?”
“Yeah, I said it’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed…”
“It’s not okay. I violated your trust, I crossed boundaries, I-“
“You’ve been really pent up, haven’t you?”
Your tone takes some of the tension out of his shoulders. You see him swallow, but he still doesn’t face you.
“Do you remember when you told me about Spider Man? How I told you I was upset you didn’t tell me sooner?”
You sigh, sliding your hand back home under your leggings. He stays silent. He can hear the noise of your finger moving in and out, your thumb grazing your clit. You watch his jaw twitch.
“No more secrets. That’s what we promised each other.”
He groans out your name.
“You’ve been keeping another secret from me this entire time. Thinking I’d be upset.”
“You,” He breathes out through his nose, “You have someone else.”
“Only because I don’t have you.”
Both of you let your statement linger in the air. You touch yourself still, watching Peter’s shoulders and back muscles move under his suit. You sigh, spreading your legs further apart. Another finger joins the first, and you moan decadently at the stretch.
He’s so fidgety when he’s nervous. It’s adorable. He wants so badly to look at you. He can smell your arousal, your sweat, your perfume in the claustrophobic air of his single dorm.
It’ll linger. Even if he rejects you, tosses you out on your ass. The scent of you will haunt his bed. It’ll stay embedded in his mind forever. He won’t be able to separate the scent, this memory, from you.
He can’t look at you the same way. He may never look at you again.
He already tarnished your friendship. You were setting it on fire.
“Do you think if you had told me, I would be with him?”
He’s taking his gloves off. Pulling each finger off, buying himself time.
“Answer me,” You sigh, “After all this time, after all we’ve been through, you think that I’d choose anyone over you, Peter?”
“You wouldn’t,” He bites out, “That’s why I didn’t give you the option.”
“He hasn’t touched me.”
“Don’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want him to touch what belongs to you.”
You’re getting close, heat unfurling fast in your stomach and through your limbs. Your body arches into your hand. You’re gonna cum. You’re gonna cum in Peter’s bed and destroy the closest relationship you have.
And you don’t care.
Not when Peter finally turns to look at you, watches your face.
You cry out for him. Your muscles tense, your cunt tightens around your fingers, and then you're gone. Eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back.
Now he knows.
You’re still coming when he crawls on top of you. Still coming when he licks the seam of your mouth, not even bothering with the preamble of a kiss. He needs so badly to be inside you in some way; it’s cruel to deny him.
His tongue touches yours, and suddenly you’re on fire. Your hands are hungry. Your flesh is starved for his. Your skin turns to gooseflesh.
You’d been dating your boyfriend for how long? His touch didn’t feel like this. His kisses didn’t light up your body. Peter’s hands move through your hair, pulling your face closer.
Your hands move under the top part of his suit. His skin is molten, warm with sweat and night air. He lets you pull his shirt up and off his body. He’s quick to pull you back into his arms, press his mouth back to yours.
“Baby,” He rumbles, his hands moving to cup your ass.
You shudder. He grabs your wrist gently and brings your hand to his mouth. He kisses each of your fingertips before sliding one of your fingers into his mouth. He moans at the taste of your cunt.
Heat burns in your belly.
Your head is rushing. Your face is on fire at the feeling of his desperate tongue against your flesh.
“So much sweeter than I thought…” He mumbles against your hand.
“What else have you thought about?” You whimper.
“You saw…” He kisses the pulse point on your wrist.
“You have to have a favorite…”
He laughs, gives you control of your hand back. He urges your shirt off.
“I wanna be sweet to you,” He runs his hand up your belly, stopping at your bra. Your cunt throbs against him. He chuckles. It’s a dark noise that settles in your ribs.
You had control just a few short minutes ago. Where had it gone?
“My thoughts aren’t sweet,” He leans into you, his lips tracing your collarbones, “You’re beautiful…”
“Show me.”
His eyes glaze over, his pupils dilating. He kisses your lips again. Small sweet pecks that turn to niping. He lays you back, disentangles his legs from yours.
“There’s one video I really like…” He slowly rolls your leggings down your legs, “Where the guy goes down on her. He keeps going, even after she cums. He didn’t stop until she passed out.”
He kisses all over your thighs, moving toward the seam where your thigh meets your pussy. Your breath stutters. Your skin tingles where he leaves his kisses.
“Yeah?” You manage to gasp out.
Peter moves your soaked panties to the side, “Yeah. But there’s so much I wanna do to you. I don’t want you to pass out.”
His tongue reaches out and toys with your clit. You gasp, trying to close your legs. He grabs your legs to keep them open. He starts lapping at your cunt slow and greedy, moaning again at the taste of you. Like he’s starving and you’re the only thing to cure it.
Bzzt…Bzzt…Bzzt
Your eyes shut. The phone keeps going off, but you ignore it. Your hips lift up a little as you lean into Peter’s tongue. But he stops, lifts his head away.
“N…no, Pete-“
“Should answer that,” He grins.
“No, come on!”
He moves to sit beside you, takes the laptop from the foot of the bed. He gestures to the nightstand.
“Go on.”
You sigh, grabbing your phone. Your boyfriend’s name is on screen. You look at Peter. He opens his laptop, casually opening up the porn tabs again like you weren’t there. Like he hadn’t just tasted you.
You answer, eyes still on Peter. What was he doing?
“Hey baby…I’m sorry for how I handled that.”
Peter leisurely palms at his cock through the bottom of his suit. You swallow. It’s big. A firm, long, thick outline that favored his right. A small precum stain started growing. Your cunt throbbed. He lets out a quiet moan as he watches another of your clones bounce on an anonymous dick.
“‘t fine,” You want it inside you. Now. But he isn’t looking at you. His eyes are locked onto the screen. He pulls his cock out.
Jesus fuck.
“We should talk about this in person…when are you coming back?”
A silky bead of precum drips from his tip. He gathers it with his thumb, wraps his hand around his cock. He brings himself off at a tortuous pace. You almost want to cry.
“Dunno,” It’s breathy, thick with tears.
‘Please,’ You mouth.
Peter smiles and carefully sets the laptop on the floor. He motions to his lap.
“Seriously. You don’t have to cry, baby. It’s just…are you in love with him?”
You move toward his silent command. He moves over to the center of the bed, your knees on either side of his legs. He rubs his tip through the slick lips of your pussy, barely teasing your hole.
“I..ah…”
Peter pulls your top up, stares at your bra. He licks a long stripe up from your belly button up to the fabric.
‘Are you?’ He mouths back, before letting your shirt drop, grabbing your hips, and pulling you down onto his cock.
“Oh fuck!” You cry out. Your body quivers at the sudden intrusion.
“Are you okay!?”
“Yes!” You bite out, “I’m great…I’m so good.”
You feel stretched to breaking. You pulse, his cock buried so deep you think it’s forming you from the inside. Your free hand flutters to his shoulder. His hands never leave your hips. He lifts you up like you weigh nothing. Just far enough off his cock to miss you, before dropping you back down. You bite down on your lower lip to suppress your whimper, but it comes out anyway.
“What’s going on?!”
Peter flips your position till you're underneath him. Your breath stutters in your throat, your phone falling from your hand onto the bed.
Peter grabs it and puts it on speaker phone.
“Hey bud,” He says, “Our friend’s busy right now. Can I take a message?”
He shoves his cock back into you, focusing on landing each thrust as hard and fast as possible. Your flesh smacks together, you can’t hold back your noises, your whines. Your eyes roll back into your head.
You don’t hear your now ex cussing Peter out, just hearing Peter’s voice.
“She feels so fucking good, by the way. Tightens up so fucking much when you hit her sweet spot. Only, you’re never gonna feel it…”
“Shit!” You hiss out.
“You wanna tell him, baby, how much you love me?”
“I love you, Peter! I love you! Fuck!”
Peter strokes your clit with his thumb in tight circles, watching you with the softest look on his face, “I love you too, baby.”
You’re too sensitive to last, your body arches into his, your cunt tighten around him. You cum with your eyes screwed shut, stars bursting behind your eyelids, your breath coming out in short pants.
Your phone winds up back on the nightstand. Peter lays over, holds your face, and kisses you gently.
“So good for me,” He rumbles against your mouth, “I love you so much, my pretty girl…”
He slows down, starts grinding his hips into yours.
“What’re you doing?”
“Taking my time. You made me wait for so long, honey. We’ve got quite a catalog to go through…”