Page 31 of The Other Side of Paradise (Story of Paradise #2)

She grinned. “Nope. I’d just gotten out of a relationship with this stupid asshole jock named Mason and Ken was like, super sweet and supportive.

And I was basically sad and mopey that I wasn’t going to be getting dicked down, and he was like, you can just fuck people without having to date them, try going on Tinder or asking your friends, so I asked him. ”

“Just like that?”

“I mean, there were a few more steps in the middle, but not a lot of them. Jesus Christ, the way this man fucked me,” she laughed, and I didn’t know how to process both being achingly jealous and hopelessly turned on, listening to Stella talking about the ways she liked getting fucked.

She shook her head, sitting up taller, grinning.

“Okay, my turn, my turn. You can ask more about that, but you have to do it with a question. I’ve been giving you too many freebies! ”

“Uh—yeah. Okay, your question,” I said, and she beamed.

“Were you staring at my panties?”

“Oh, god.” I put a hand to my forehead, looking out the window. If I drank, it’d be obvious. “Yes, I was staring at your underwear. I’m sorry.”

She laughed. “You don’t need to apologize.

I’m not shy,” she said, and to prove her point, she lifted up her skirt.

My stomach dropped at the sight of—well, her underwear, smooth thighs and the soft line of her waist above the band, and—I was staring again.

I only realized when she dropped her dress back into place, and I cleared my throat hard, looking away, covering where my cheeks were burning.

“N-no kidding you’re not,” I mumbled.

“Okay, your turn to ask a question.”

“What did Ken do that was so special?”

She laughed, covering her face, and I guess I had managed to actually get her a little embarrassed. “Oh, god. A lot of things. He was really good with his mouth…”

Okay, yeah, between jealousy and arousal, arousal was winning now. Thinking about Stella being really into, uh… receiving… oral, it had an effect on me. “I guess Mason wasn’t.”

“Oh, god, no. He would almost never do it even though I asked him like a billion times. Mostly he just wanted to be the big tough guy in charge and have me suck his dick or take it from behind or something to make him feel powerful. And when he did it, he was terrible at it, like just weird awkward tonguing…”

“So Ken let you be in charge.”

She grinned. “He would still take the lead and stuff, but he made me feel like a spoiled princess who could have whatever I wanted. He let me ride him, too, which was where I learned how much I liked that.”

God, the amount I wanted to make her feel like a spoiled princess. She could absolutely have anything she wanted with me. She shifted in closer, eyes gleaming.

“Okay, my turn,” she said. “Since we’ve started this whole thing, looking for girls, have you actually found anyone you’d want to sleep with and just didn’t admit it?”

“Uh.”

“Aside from me.”

Jesus, did she have to say that? I mean, she did, but… did she have to? I rubbed the back of my head, looking away. “Nope.”

She looked incredulously at me. “Not a single one?”

“Nope.”

“You can’t lie, you know. That’s cheating.”

“I am not lying.”

She laughed. “Oh my god, you really are into me.”

“Uh.” Under any other circumstances, that would have sounded like making fun of me. But the way she said it sounded like she liked that I was. I covered my face. “You can ask that as a question if you want to know more. Okay, my turn.”

“Ugh, what?” She laughed, pouting. “ Fine. Your turn. Ask, ask.”

“Did you see anybody at the lounge tonight that you’d want to hook up with?”

“Nope. Wasn’t my crowd.” She grinned. “Okay, my turn. I thought of a much better question.”

“O-okay.”

She scooched closer on the couch, laying her hand on my knee. I did not need her hands on my legs right now. I could not parse how turned on I was already. “So,” she said, eyes gleaming. “What did you actually do when you disappeared for a bit on the beach?”

“Uh—” My stomach dropped, and I felt my face heat up and—well, and another part of my body, at the thought of telling her I masturbated in my car thinking about you. “What… part of the beach trip?” I said, voice too high, and she snorted.

“You know what I mean, Allison,” she said, her voice low, and I squirmed in the seat.

“Uh…” Dammit. I was not doing this. I picked up one of the shot glasses, and I braced as I knocked it back, the rum fiery-hot in my senses.

I’d never done shots before, and it was about as pungently punch-in-the-face as I’d expected, but it did end faster than I thought it would, leaving my throat and mouth warm.

Stella gave me a look somewhere between outrage and laughter.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you,” she said. “What did you do? You really did make out with someone in the bathrooms, didn’t you?”

“You could ask that as another question,” I said, my head a little fuzzy with the wave of awareness that followed the shot.

“I might. Okay, chicken. Your turn.”

I was not drunk two seconds after taking a shot, but I asked a question I never thought I’d ask while sober. “So do you prefer receiving oral over giving it?”

She bit her lip through a bigger smile. “It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed giving it, but… yeah. It’s just really good. And it’s really hot, too, you know? Like, the visual and everything.”

God, I was so turned on. The thought of Stella asking for oral…

fantasies snuck unbidden into my head, her lying back on this couch right now, spreading her legs open while gesturing me to my knees.

“It is, yeah,” I finally managed, and she leaned back further into the corner of the couch, reclining more, which wasn’t helping.

“Do you prefer giving or receiving?”

“G-giving.” I’d thought I had that one in the bag. I’d figured she would ask it, so I’d mentally rehearsed it and everything. And I still stuttered. “It’s just hot, um… making someone feel good. And I, uh, like the, uh, the visual from… well…” Shit, I’d rehearsed for nothing. She grinned.

“That’s hot.”

“Is it?” My voice was thin. She raised her eyebrows.

“What, is it not?”

“I mean, I guess yeah…”

She kicked my foot playfully. “Your turn.”

My brain was fuzzy. I was glad I took a shot, because now I could blame it for that. “What toys do you have?”

She grinned. “That I own in general, or with me?”

“You—have some with you?”

She put her hands up. “Never leave home without the essentials! I couldn’t pack all of them for a trip, but I brought my favorites.”

Favorites, plural. She had enough toys that she had multiple favorites. That was hot. “So what are they?”

“A wand vibrator and a dildo. You know, the classics.”

Stella getting herself off with a wand vibrator was going to break my brain. “The… the classics, yeah. Any standouts from the rest of your, uh, collection?”

She smiled wider. “I have a glass dildo.”

“Oh, god. I’d worry about it breaking.”

“It’s like, solid glass, not like sheet glass,” she laughed. “My pussy’s not that strong. Even if somehow it broke, it wouldn’t shatter, it would have a clean break like any other material. It’s fun like… temperature play, because it feels cold to the touch.”

“Huh… I don’t feel like I’d want something cold inside me.”

“It’s weird at first, but it’s fun. Especially if you have something hot to balance it.”

“Like a mouth.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I blushed furiously, and she bit her lip, a look passing over her features.

“Oh, god. If I had it inside me while someone was going down on me, I think I’d explode. That’s hot.”

Okay, I guess I liked glass. She had a volunteer right here who could help, if she was curious. “Well, uh, happy to inspire you.”

“Okay, my turn,” she said, her voice sing-song. “I’m curious what your sex drive is like. How many times have you masturbated since I’ve known you?”

“Um.” Oh, god. It was only once, but I didn’t want to talk about that time. And if I took a shot, she’d assume I was rubbing one out every fifteen minutes. I scratched my head, looking up at the ceiling. “I, uh… one time…”

“Oh, yeah? When was it?”

“Nope. Gonna have to use another question for that.” And I’d pray to god she wouldn’t. She pouted.

“C’mon, I give you so many freebies.”

“Then that’s on you.”

She laughed. “Okay, okay. Your turn.”

“How many times have you? ”

She grinned, leaning in towards me, a challenging look in her eyes. “How many times have I what?”

“You—you know.” Oh, god. It was bad form if I was getting more embarrassed than her at being the one asking.

“Tell me, Allison.”

“Ah, fuck. How many times have you… you know… masturbated? ” I whispered the word. “Since then.”

“Three.”

“Wow.” That was hot. I shouldn’t have asked that. Now I was seeing her bed and realizing that at least one time this week, she’d probably…

“What are you thinking about?” she said, a playful glint in her eyes, and I shook my head, blushing furiously.

“Nothing. Let’s move on.”

“No, that was my question.”

Ah, shit. That was a terrible question. She looked immensely pleased with herself. I… wasn’t. I groaned, and I braced myself before I took another shot, knocking it back like liquid flame in my throat, and her jaw dropped, laughing, scandalized.

“ Allison. Now I’m going to be imagining what you were thinking about.”

“Imagine away,” I said, looking away as I set the shot glass down hard, coughing into my hand.

I was definitely getting a little fuzzy at the edges now.

That stuff was potent. I wasn’t going to make it through four of them.

I needed something really hard to answer.

“Okay, my turn. What’s your weirdest kink? ”

I thought she would have infinitely more trouble with it than she did. She didn’t even blink. “Like, that I would actually be into doing, or just to fantasize and read like sexy erotica and stuff?”

“Um… whatever’s weirdest overall, so probably the latter.”

“Brainwashing.”