 |
By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
|
"No, that's Marcie. Suzie's the brunette. No, the other brunette. No, that's Lucy, and she's blonde. Look, it doesn't matter. Just some girl, OK?" Ouch. I was just some girl? Here I was up at night over my feelings of inferiority to this bitch, and she couldn't be bothered to know I existed. I was nothing to her.
"No, I think we're just going to hang out tonight. Nothing exciting... Why, are you jealous?"
If I could make only one wish in my whole life, it would've been to hear her answer, and to hear her say yes.
But she obviously didn't. "I know you're not. And you're right not to be." Right. Why would Joanna, Miss Perfectest Girl In The World, be jealous of Suzie, the desperate pitiful nobody.
"All right, hon. Can't wait to see you again." He made a kissy noise, and hung up. "Sorry about that."
"No, it's cool. Does she... is she... um, you know, normally the jealous type?"
"Well sure, every girl's got a little jealousy in her. Even you, I bet." He smiled and flicked me in the knee playfully. Thank goodness he didn't know how right he was.
We side-tracked for a while. Mark was just being Mark, cracking jokes and being casual, catching up on recent events. I did my best, but I also tried my hardest to get him to notice me while we chilled. I told him about how I'd just shaved my legs and even gotten a bikini wax (true), how the other day I'd sneezed so hard my boob popped out of my neckline (it had happened, but like five years ago), how I hadn't been laid in months and how horny and bored it was making me all the time.
Mark just nodded, expressed sympathy – it was like I'd told him I'd had a cold that wouldn't go away. I cursed myself for wearing something cute instead of something slutty. Slutty would be so much better.
Then, when I'd almost given up on getting any reaction, I hit pay dirt. "OK, Suzie, I get it, you're proud of your ass."
I looked back at him over my shoulder. "What do you mean?"
"That's like the fourth time you've dropped something and bent at the waist to pick it up. Either you want me to notice your butt or you've lost all coordination."
I blushed a little as I stood up. It had been five times, actually. I bet if I had Joanna's ass he'd remember them all. "Sorry. I, um... well... never mind." I sat back down, diverting my attention to the television.
"No, come on. Tell me what's going on with you."
Something in his tone – the patience, the sincerity – just melted my knees. Flooded my panties too. Not that I found it so charming, just that it was a glimpse at the man who'd won over Joanna. That lucky bitch. "It's just... you always used to like my butt."
"Used to?"
"Yeah. I mean, before Joanna."
"Just because I'm seeing someone now doesn't mean you don't have a nice ass, Suzie."
I almost swooned. Even with Joanna in the picture, he still appreciated me. Or part of me, anyway. It felt fucking amazing, like a breath of fresh air after a near drowning. Just to ride the high, I twisted around and leaned on my elbows over the armrest. My ass was pointed right at him, its shape perfectly outlined by the jeans. It was absurd, and practically whorish, but it felt right.
"You really think it's nice?"
He studied it for a while, and I was only too happy to let him. "Yeah, Suzie. It's a really nice ass."
Not just nice. Really nice. I sighed happily, and went on posing for him. Then I asked one of the questions that had been burning on my mind for weeks. "Is it as nice as Joanna's?"
I braced myself for him to laugh, to say of course not, you're no Joanna even on her worst day or something, to bring me back to reality. Instead, he was actually very gentle about it. "It's not about a direct comparison. Your ass looks nicer on you than it would on Joanna."
"Yeah, I can imagine," I said, after I choked down a sob of despair. I mean, I'd known I couldn't compete and he was really sweet not to just say I was nothing compared to her. Feeling suddenly self-conscious (I mean c'mon, like he'd want to stare at my rear end when he'd had weeks of Joanna's perfect butt), I sat back down.
"Hey, I didn't mean it as a put-down. You're really pretty. In lots of ways, you're more or less as attractive as Joanna." He put a comforting hand on my shoulder.
"Yeah? Like what ways?" I swear, I'm never this needy for a pick-me-up. I'm a really confident person, honest – but what girl wouldn't get a little heady at being compared favorably to a goddess like Joanna? ("More or less" favorably, anyway. I'd take it.)
"Well, you have that cute little mole on your chin." He touched it gently with a finger, and I brightened further.
"What else?"
"I've always been partial to brunettes, to be honest." He ran his fingers through my hair, and a shiver of delight ran up and down my spine.
"Anything else?"
"Better boobs than her. I think, anyway. Bigger, at least. Hard to say if they look as good on you."
I didn't hesitate for a second. I had to know – and only he could tell me. I lifted off my shirt, and before his eyes could widen to adjust for the view my bra was gone too. There they were in front of him, bare and bouncy.
I let him stare – it felt so amazingly wonderful to have him stare, knowing right now it was my boobs he was lusting after. Even if he was imagining them on her body. Or imagining hers on me. Or just imagining she was here instead. I was still the one he was staring at, and not even Joanna could take that away from me.
"Y-you can f-feel them. If you w-want," I stammered nervously. Not about being topless in front of my friend, but about the reminder that was surely coming about how much better hers were than mine.
Mark seemed to think it over for a moment, then helped himself to two handfuls of Suzie-jugs. I trembled with desire as he gave them a few soft squeezes, tweaking the nipples and seeming to even weigh them with his hand. He really was clumsy with them, but I didn't say a word. Joanna wouldn't criticise. She'd make him feel like the god and ruler of her body. I just smiled, and moaned softly.
The moans weren't fake, either. His attention, refined or not, felt incredible, because I had it and she didn't. I rode that high, only semi-conscious of what was going on around me as he fondled my breasts.
"I don't think Joanna would appreciate that, Suzie," he said.
Oh shit. I'd been thinking it, over and over, but had I actually said it? No way. I wasn't that big of a slut. But from the faint colour in his cheeks as his hands left my boobs, I could tell I had.
I'd just asked my friend Mark to fuck me. The guy who I'd shut down without a second thought not that long ago.
And he'd said no. Because I wasn't Joanna.
"Oh. Yeah. I mean... Sorry. I was just... caught up, I guess."
"It's cool – you always were kind of a tease," Mark said with a smile.
"What?" I said with an indignant sneer. "I am SO not a tease."
"Really? So then you're really cool if I fuck you then?"
Ugh, he had me there. Joanna wouldn't have just spread her legs right off, ready to screw from the moment Mark first saw her tits. A girl that sophisticated would need to be wined and dined first. Romanced.
Not like me – seems like all I needed was a nearby willing cock. God I was such a slut. And really, if I reneged on my offer... I was a tease, too.
"Yeah. You can fuck me."
Mark made a dubious face, so I stood up and undid my jeans. When I stood up from peeling them off my ankles, I saw he'd realized I was serious. "Hang on, Suzie."
I paused, standing there in front of my friend in just my panties. I knew there was a damp spot visible in the front, but I didn't care. Hopefully it would just help convey that I was no tease. My pussy was ready to make good on my mouth's claims.
So was my mouth, for that matter.
"Damn you're hot," he said. "Never thought you'd actually look this hot."
"Thanks," I said, turning in place so he could see me from all sides. "I know I'm not Joanna hot or anything, but–"
"Shh." He made a good point – I should shut up. I didn't know how to talk to guys, not like Joanna would. She'd have him eating out of her hand. So I just stood there smiling while he walked around me, feeling up my ass, running his fingers along my slit through my panties, awkwardly groping my boobs some more like some geeky boy touching a pair for the first time.
I don't think I'd ever been more turned on in my life.
Only then, even though I'd never been more ready to have sex in my life, I still managed to fuck things up.
"Take off your panties and bend over, Suzie," Mark said casually.
I should have. I mean, duh. How else was I going to prove that I was like Joanna, not just some skanky tease who flashed her tits and offered her pussy only to withhold them in the eleventh hour?
Instead, something in me bristled, just for a moment, at his tone, the way he just ordered me to strip off my underwear and pose for him like it was his right to insist. Before my brain could catch up with my mouth, before I could shuck my sodden panties off and grab my ankles, wait for him to give me a few minutes of the kind of pleasure normally reserved only for Joanna...
"Fuck you, you can't boss me around."
Oh my GOD I was a fucking moron. Where had that come from? Sure, I'd never met her, and increasingly I hoped I never would so I wouldn't spend the rest of my life seeing her perfect face haunting me in the mirror. But there was no way Joanna would tell her guy off like that. How the hell did I expect Mark to fuck my pussy if I wouldn't take my panties off and give him access to it?
"Hmm. Must not be working as well as I thought yet."
"Wow. Yeah, you're right, Suzie I guess I got ahead of myself in the process." What process? Was watching me be a total slut a process? But he kept talking before I could ask. "You know... why don't you get dressed and go home."
"What? No! No, I was totally kidding. See, look!" I dropped my panties off, stepping out of them so quickly I almost tripped. I flopped down on my back on the couch and spread my legs as wide as they would go, looking up at him desperately.
"I can't. Joanna would never approve of this kind of behavior. I don't know what I was thinking, letting things go this far."
Now, in hindsight I would wonder if he meant his own behavior, inviting his friend over, checking out her ass, complimenting her boobs, feeling her up, telling her to get naked and ready to fuck. At the time, though, his words went through a translation process in my head so that they sounded a little more like this:
Joanna would never do this. Be a tease, hesitate, not put out. Be a slut, throw herself at a guy, then push him away. You just proved why you'll never be as good as her. She'd be laughing in your face if she were here right now.
I grabbed my clothes and ran to my car, humiliated more from the way I'd behaved than from my nudity. I tugged my shirt back on after I started the car, and awkwardly got my jeans back on when I pulled into my parking space back home. Then I went upstairs and spent the rest of the night waiting for a response to my text, in which I apologised for being a total bitch, and telling him he could come over and fuck me if he wanted to.
He didn't respond.
It was almost another week before I saw him again, during which he continued not responding. Not to my initial text, nor to the many that followed. In some, I described many of the acts I would be willing to do for him, some of which I plucked right out of what I knew were fantasies of his. In other messages, I just acknowledged my inferiority to Joanna and told him even if I could never be as good as her I still wanted to be his friend – then I explained the ways in which it seemed reasonable that one friend would pleasure another to make up for the sacrifice of not spending time instead with his vastly superior significant other.
Some were just naked selfies, so he'd know I was serious.
It was frustrating all right, knowing that every night while he was out there fucking the hell out of his flawless blonde goddess, basking in her wit and charm and grace and sensuality, I was stuck lying around my flat diddling myself silly with my vibrator fantasising about them doing so. I had to remind myself occasionally that I was attractive too. I mean, even if the existence of Joanna on the number scale (obviously a 10) knocked me down to a 3, Mark still used to think I was cute enough to ask out anyway. Maybe he could lower himself to a girl like me once in a while?
Then, one rainy Friday afternoon, Mark finally texted me. I'll be over in ten.
Mind you, I was out running errands at the time, but I dropped what I was doing and raced across town like a madwoman. I drove over 70mph in a school zone, and nearly ran over this little old man.
I beat him there.
In fact, I beat him there by almost two hours. I sat there staring anxiously out the front window the entire time. I kept telling myself I should change, that the first thing Mark saw when he arrived shouldn't be me in boring sweats and a hoodie, but I didn't want to risk making him wait while I was picking out the perfect outfit. He could tell me what to wear when he got here – unlike Joanna, I didn't have perfect fashion sense to tell me what to wear to please him.
He finally pulled up, and I sighed in relief to see he was alone. I'd worried Joanna was with him, and that was what was keeping so long. Worried she'd gotten upset about me pestering her boyfriend and was coming to kick my ass, in which case I of course wouldn't be able to stop her. Thankfully, Mark shuffled up to the door all by himself.
"Hey there," I said as he came in, trying to act like things were still normal between us. "Wondered when you'd get here."
"Yeah, just had to clear up a few things with Joanna first," he said. I mean, of course. If I had a girl like that, I wouldn't rush off to settle for me either. "Now, let's see if we've got you good and ready yet."
"Good and ready? Um, for what? What does that mean?"
He sighed. "Sorry, I almost forgot how you are. Being around Joanna... well, she just never pesters me with stupid questions."
UGH. Of course she didn't. Here he was, willing to take time away from the lust incarnate to see my ungrateful ass, and I was wasting his time with my idiot curiosity.
"Sorry! I mean, I didn't really care, just making conversation. Forget I said it. Can I, um, get you anything? Anything?" I offered.
Mark smiled, seeming placated that I wouldn't be playing the inquisition any more. "You sure can," he said, kicking off his shoes. "Why don't you start with those clothes?"
"You got it!" I said cheerfully. I'd learned my lesson. If he wanted to order me around and treat me like a piece of meat, that was fine by me. It was obviously the only way I could stand even a chance of earning his attention. I stripped out of my clothes like they were on fire, not stopping until I was completely naked. I handed the pile over to him, though he just tossed it aside.
"Put your hands behind your head."
I did, naturally. I kept smiling as Mark walked over and planted his face between my boobs and motor-boated the hell out of them. It was childish as hell on his part, but so what? He knew what he was doing. Joanna wouldn't settle for some amateur. No, he motor-boated me like a flautist playing Flight of the Bumblebees. It was masterful.
"Give me a titty-fuck."
It was like a dream come true. Here he was, this man who could quite possibly be out doing things to the tits of the most amazing woman on the planet, and he'd rather stick his dick between mine! It was so flattering.
Mark shed his pants and underwear and plopped down on my sofa. There it was, the very same cock that had pleasured Joanna who knew how many times. I gave myself a moment to stare at it, trying to discern any trace of her passing – a lipstick ring, her juices dried in his pubes – but there was nothing. Because Joanna was classy as fuck.
"Mark? Can I please suck it a little first? Not for my sake," I added quickly, lest he think I was just being selfish, "but so it will glide better."
"You don't have any lube?"
I did, having bought some a few days ago after envisioning a scenario not unlike this where Mark wanted to fuck my ass because Joanna's was too special, because she was too classy to be a little butt-slut. Like I would gladly be, if it gave me the high of a few minutes feeling like her equal.
Still, I had other ideas.
"Wouldn't you rather let me suck your dick? I promise I'll be good to it. I've practiced a lot, getting ready for you. And if it starts to dry up, I'll just suck it some more. I've got all evening to do it right for you."
He shrugged. "Get to work then, Suzielut."
Oh fuck that was hot, the way he trusted me to pleasure him without question. The way my friend just tossed out a demeaning nickname like it was nothing, because we had history and knew I'd be cool with it.
He was looking right at me as I took him in my mouth. I didn't even have to fake how happy his cock made me – just knowing that I had his dick, I made it hard, I was going to make him cum...
Not Joanna. Me. Suzieslut
Honestly, Mark was already totally hard before I even took him in my mouth, and it only took a few seconds to have him good and lathered up. Still, he deserved better than a few dismissive licks, so I sucked him for several minutes before I readied for the transition. I think I almost felt him cum in my mouth a few times, but whenever I did I just slowed down and took my time.
I almost laughed at myself. The idea that someone who'd been having sex with Joanna – Joanna! – would have a hair trigger... it was preposterous.
"Ask permission," he said, just as I reared up to put my boobs at cock level.
I wondered if he had Joanna do this. Probably not. She'd have any guys permission by default, hot as she was. "Can I use my breasts to get you off?"
"Ugh, no." I wilted. How could I have fucked up something so simple – and whatever it was, why did it only seem to make his cock twitch as if he was becoming even more aroused? "They're not breasts, Suzieslut. They're tits. No – titties. Big titties. Jugs. Boobs. Funbags. Hooters. Fuckable jiggly honkable boobies."
I made myself not laugh again – some of his terms I hadn't heard since like middle school – and instead nodded vigorously, sincerely grateful for his instruction. "Please fuck my big titties, Mark? Stick your cock between my funbags and let me make you cum all over my huge slut boobs?"
He seemed to consider. "Yeah, I guess so." Apathetic as his words were, his wolfish expression was pure male power trip – I had no doubt about it. Which was awesome, because that was exactly what I was out to do right now. That was why a slut like me titty-fucked a man – so he knew he could do whatever he wanted to her, use her body however he liked whether it gave her pleasure in return or not.
I went back and forth between my tits and my mouth, taking it slow, making sure I didn't end his fun too soon. Each time I made the switch I asked fresh permission. "Can I get your cock slick again with my whore mouth?" "I'll give you anything you want if you let me put your dick between my slutty jiggly hooters." "Pretty pretty please will you stick your cock in Sidneyslut's mouth?"
Joanna would never say these things – but then, Joanna didn't have to be a slutty desperate whore to make Mark want to spend time with her. She was so lucky..
More to come |
xx