Page 41 of Off Plan

Porn wasn’t always my thing—Yes, really. No, I wasn’t a prude. Much.—but today the porn gods smiled on me, because when I clicked randomly on the first video that came up, the woman on the screen was really,reallypretty, with long brown hair, big brown eyes, and perfectly proportioned, perfectly symmetrical breasts that worked for me inall kinds of ways.

I bit my lip, gripped myself through my underwear again, and found I was harder than ever. Yeah, this wasdefinitelyworking for me. I arched my head back into the pillow and groaned as I worked myself over while the woman on the screen climbed atop her partner and threw her head back in desire.

I frowned and yanked out my headphones, since the brunette’s fake sex noises were driving me crazy and not in a good way, then finally shut the phone off altogether. It was all too rehearsed. Too…wrong.

I spit in my palm and closed my eyes once more, conjuring an image of the woman from the video, her hair and her eyes and her beautiful breasts all poised above me. I stroked myself hard and fast, planting my feet flat on the bed and twisting my fist on the upstroke exactly the way I liked best.

Fuck. This was very, very good. Pure escapism. Pure release.

In my mind, the anonymous woman’s hair hung down around us like a curtain, obscuring everything except her eyes. Her fingers threaded with mine, and she used them for leverage as she moved against me. My fist flew faster and faster on my spit-slicked dick, and I was so close,so close, caught up in that Gulf-blue gaze and the heavy, solid weight of her…

Wait,no.

The woman on the video had brown eyes.Brown, not Gulf blue. And she was probably light as a feather, not remotely solid. And she had breasts. Good Lord, the breasts!

But when I tried to picture them, to hold the thought in my mind… I couldn’t.

Fuck.

I couldnot.

And Fenn Reardon grinned down at me, looking all kinds of smug and happy, as the annoying motherfucker hijacked my jerk session.

My brain screamedabort, abort, but it was way too late. I couldn’t have, even if I’d wanted to and… okay,fine, I didn’t want to. Those blue, blue,blueeyes were spurring me on, and his voice in my head was chantingMason, Mason, Masonin time to my thrusts, and it was like a magic spell turning a key in a lock because I remembered that hehadsaid my name in the bathroom Friday night. He’d said, “Look at me, Mason.”He’d said my name, and he’d looked at me like he knew me.

And that, as they say, was that.

My orgasm hit me like a fuckingfreight train—head thrown back and spine stiffened all the way down to my toes, eyes squeezed so tight colors burst across my vision, as blast after blast of hot jizz spilled over my chest and stomach.

Then I jumped off the bed before my cock had stopped twitching and practically ran for the bathroom like the masturbation police might be after me, turning on the shower and resting my head against the powder-blue tile while all the evidence swirled down the drain.

So.Thathad happened.

But fuck if I knew whatthatwas.

A bisexual awakening at thirty-five?Shit. No one would believe that. Hell, I wasn’t sureIcould believe it.

Demisexuality, maybe? But weren’t you supposed tolikethe people you were aroused by? Did I have an annoyance kink?

Latent reverse-sapio-sexuality, where I was only into dudes who ignored me and acted like ignorant assholes?

Look, if I was bisexual, I was going to embrace the fuck out of it.

IfI was.

But first I needed facts and data. I needed to diagnose the thing. I needed to figure out how to fit it inside my frame of reference, when it didn’t track to anything I’d ever experienced, or even heard of.

What did you call it when a person whose very existence made you insane was also the person you connected with more instantly and completely than any other person?

Was idiot-sexual a thing?

WasFenn-sexual?

Because evidence suggested that if it hadn’t been before, maybe I’d just discovered it.

And I wasn’t gonna be able to do a damn thing to fix it as long as the guy down the hall shut me out.

Chapter Seven