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Southern Hotshot(33)
Author: Jessica Peterson

LadyV76: Dripping.

MyBoyBlue4: God, I want to eat you up right now.

LadyV76: Ohhhh…

MyBoyBlue4: Take your hand and play with your nipples again. This time, you’ve got some natural lube to work with. You like?

LadyV76: Oh, wow. Yes, I do

MyBoyBlue4: Don’t put your fingers back on your clit. I know you wanna keep touching yourself there, but you’ll come too soon. So glide those fingers through your folds, baby. Take the middle one and put it inside you. Press it against the front wall of your pussy. You feel that spongy bit? Keep pressing on that.

LadyV76: Ohhhhhhhhhhhh

MyBoyBlue4: It’s hot, right, watching yourself in the mirror?

LadyV76: Yeah but dirty too

MyBoyBlue4: Dirty doesn’t equal bad. If it turns you on, it’s all good, baby. Tell me how you’re feeling. I need you to talk to me, always.

LadyV76: I’m feeling like…like I’m getting closer to something. Like I’m rising, or it’s rising to meet me. I’m afraid but not, and now I’m wondering, wow, *this* is what I’ve been missing out on.

MyBoyBlue4: I get it. I was a late bloomer too. My parents were awesome, but they were strict too. No parties, no booze, and definitely no girls or porn. Needless to say, I’ve gone the opposite way in my adult life.

LadyV76: When it’s good, porn is the best. Oh wait, I don’t know that because I’m nineteen and virginal in every way imaginable. Baby, I’m getting close. Please, please let me come.

MyBoyBlue4: I like it when you call me that. Okay, I’ll stop torturing you. Take your finger out of your pussy and use your first two fingers on that hand to circle your clit. Play with your nipples with the other hand.

LadyV76: Magic!

MyBoyBlue4: See? Life isn’t all bad. Keep circling. And when you feel the pressure, surrender.

[A pause]

LadyV76: So. Freaking. Good.

MyBoyBlue4: I know.

LadyV76: Blue?

MyBoyBlue4: Yeah?

LadyV76: That was my first time willingly playing the submissive. I liked it.

MyBoyBlue4: Willingly? Explain.

LadyV76: For a long time, I thought that was what men wanted from women. Submission. So I played along and pretended to enjoy it and faked every orgasm I had after that one on the bathroom counter.

MyBoyBlue4: God, that’s bleak.

LadyV76: I know! Anyway, I happened upon some deliciously feminist romance novels, and they convinced me to put my needs and my pleasure at the forefront of my own story. So I tried on my alpha suit, and the rest, as they say, is history. Speaking of…I’d like to make you come if you’d let me.

MyBoyBlue4: YES

LadyV76: Imagine you’re the one who helps me learn I’m a natural alpha. You’re the first guy who’s willing to let me fuck him sideways in pursuit of my true pervy self.

[Pause]

MyBoyBlue4: Yeah, you can stop there. I came halfway through that second sentence. Right around “sideways.”

LadyV76: Success! Your mind off the coworker yet?

MyBoyBlue4: No, actually. But because you just gave my imagination a good workout, I have an idea how to fix the situation. Well, make it less of a train wreck, anyway. Thank you for that.

LadyV76: Good luck. So, I’m going to go out on a limb here and ask where you are. You don’t have to give me specifics, but since we both are from Carolina, and we just might be close by, any chance you’d be down to meet in person?

MyBoyBlue4: Hell YES. I’m happy to keep having the best cybersex ever with you. But I’ve felt so confused lately, and the only time I seem to find clarity is when I’m chatting with you. I’m in North Carolina.

LadyV76: NO SHIT. Me too! Asheville area.

MyBoyBlue4: Fuck off. I’m ten miles from downtown. You’re kidding, right?

LadyV76: I’m not. Are you?

MyBoyBlue4: Nope. Wow. It’s almost like we’re meant to be. Let’s do it. Name the time and place, and I’ll make it happen.

LadyV76: Next weekend? Right now, they’re calling for snow (!) on Friday, but let’s be real, it’s almost April so the chances of that actually happening are slim to none. I should be able to get that day off…

MyBoyBlue4: Yeah, I saw that…I was born and raised here in the mountains and lemme say April snowstorms are few and far between. I usually work Friday and Saturday nights, but I’ll try to get Friday off too. What’s your favorite bar? Restaurant?

LadyV76: Let’s do downtown. You know, so people will be around to save me if you really are a serial killer. Cucina is a favorite. Great drinks.

MyBoyBlue4: Love that spot. I know the owner, so I’ll get us a table. 8 PM? I’ll confirm Fri or Sat tomorrow at work.

LadyV76: I’ll do the same.

MyBoyBlue4: Holy shit, do we actually have a date?

LadyV76: We actually have a date. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to it.

MyBoyBlue4: Same, girl, same

LadyV76: PS: I’m glad I could help you make some sense of yourself. Lately, the few times I feel certain in the choices I’ve made are when I’m with you too. Thanks for that.

MyBoyBlue4: Good night, baby.

LadyV76: I’ll end with this: Clearly, I don’t know you, but from what I’ve gathered, I don’t think you’re a piece of shit deep down. You’ve got a creative, thoughtful, kind side to you that I’m guessing you don’t show the world (why else would millennials like us seek solace with strangers on the internet?). Whoever you think you’re going to lose or disappoint by being the real you wasn’t meant to be in your life anyway. You do you, boo, and fuck what everyone else thinks.

MyBoyBlue4: How do you feel about me calling you boo?

LadyV76: Nah, I’m claiming that as mine. Night, boo.

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

Samuel

 

 

My brother Rhett eyes me over the small mountain of foil-covered casserole dishes I’ve set in his arms. “Why do you need me to help you deliver this stuff again?”

“Because I need a second if she challenges me to a duel.”

I grab my keys and silently inventory the dishes. Short ribs, collards, cornbread. Strawberry and brown sugar buckle for dessert. Should be enough, right?

Lord above, I hope it’s enough to at least get Emma to talk to me again. Really talk. At this morning’s brunch service, she was maddeningly professional. Polite as all get-out, per usual, but beneath her calm exterior, I could tell a cauldron of rage and hurt was bubbling.

She refused to look me in the eye, and that was the worst of all. I have never in all my thirty-five years felt like more of a douchebag.

I have never felt more wrong. I don’t ever want to feel this way again.

Which means I’ve gotta make some changes. Starting with figuring out who I am behind the bullshit smile I’ve worn for the past fifteen years.

Last night, I realized the freedom I felt has less to do with the sex than it does with the ability to be myself with someone. Not the smiling bullshitter, but the guy who’s on the sub side of the scale, who likes Van Halen and Game of Thrones and admitting when things are less than perfect. I like who I am when I’m being open-minded. Brave. Playful.

What else could I be if kept opening up that way in real life? Who else could I connect with the way I connected with Emma yesterday? Yes, it’s scary. Yes, I’m risking loss. Real, painful loss. But sharing truths last night, and then with Emma too, has shown me that I can’t keep living my life so closed off from everyone and everything. The loneliness I felt when Emma walked out of my house after giving me the cold shoulder I absolutely deserved—yeah, it was the worst I’ve felt in a long time.

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