Page 8 of Privilege

Chapter Seven

Dane

I book it out of there as fast as my legs will go. Like if I move fast enough I’ll forget what I saw. Like the images will fall out of my head and be left in that room forever.

Yeah right, Dane. Those images are squatting rent-free in your head until you fucking die.

After Ponytail Girl had finally limped her way out of my room, I’d stared at the ceiling for another hour, stomach squirming, thinking about Rich’s face when he saw me with my arm around Cara.

I hate that it’s like this, but I don’t know how to fix it. I thought maybe I could talk to them, that maybe with Cara as a buffer we could move forward, somehow. Be brothers again. But Rich looks at me like I’m a stranger. And I guess I am, now.

My arm still tingles from her touch on the lawn. She was a lightning rod, connecting me and Rich for the first time since everything fell apart.

I swallow hard as I kick the door to my room shut behind me and beeline for the bathroom.

I drop my joggers without preamble and grip the edge of the counter with one hand while I wrap the other around my dick.

The head of my cock is oozing precum despite already having balled that server twice.

It twitches in my palm while images of Cara’s perfect tits bouncing up against the mirror and her soaking wet pussy dripping down Rich’s cock play on repeat.

His body has changed. It’s clear he’s not on the water polo team anymore.

The ridiculous body fat percentage has softened a little, although he still looks fitter than most men have the right to.

But it’s the body hair that I noticed: he’s been shaving for the team for so long that it never occurred to me he ever even had chest hair.

I groan as my balls tighten up. The sight of the dark hair around his cock, sliding inside of her dripping, sopping hole …

“Fuck!” I grunt, surprised by the orgasm that boots me from behind as my hips drive forward and my low back seizes up. Cum shoots all over my shirt. My head snaps back and my mouth falls open; I didn’t come like this for the server—not even when she shoved her finger in my ass.

When I finally finish, palm coated and shirt obliterated, I look at myself in the mirror. I’m flushed, and panting, and covered in jizz, and Jesus fucking Christ I jerked off thinking about my brother’s cock…

I shake my head, and try to convince myself it was all Cara. That her stupid freckles have been on my mind since this morning and seeing her trussed up and fucked from behind is what’s doing it for me.

Ever the liar, Dane.

I snatch a hand towel and try to wipe myself off, press it to my dick which is still leaking and lean back against the wall.

The truth is, I’m thinking about both of them.

I’ve been thinking about both of them since before they even got here.

I was thinking about sliding into her the entire time I was sliding into the party blonde, about the feel of Cara’s skin on mine, soft and silky, and how good her pussy must feel if I can get hard from touching a patch of arm.

I was thinking about driving deep into her cunt, and feeling another cock in her—feeling another dick against mine as we stretched her so wide she fucking screamed.

I’d been thinking about me and Rich balls deep in that pussy all fucking night.

About gripping his shoulders as we came together.

I whip the towel at the hamper, rip my shirt off and chuck it in there too, full of anxious, restless energy. There’s too much shit in my head. Too much everything.

Too much

Too much

Too much

I stalk down the hall naked, take the stairs two at a time and book it to the pool as hard as I booked it to my room.

I’m still rocking a semi that is clearly going nowhere, so my only other option is to exhaust my body beyond the ability to have an erection.

I walk outside leaving all the doors open behind me and dive straight in. The water is like ice, instantly clearing my mind and soothing my aching dick.

This is the only part of being back at Blackstone I am enjoying: the pool, alone, after dark.