Chapter 13

My brother and I had always been physically close, the kind who slept tangled up in the same bed when we were kids, skin stuck to skin. When adolescence hit me, that got a lot rarer, but the affection stayed — a quick touch on the shoulder, an awkward hug in the hallway, nothing that drew attention. What happened in my room lit the spark, but what kicked everything into high gear, turning it into a hot, messed-up mess, was my mom.

Weeks after that day, the routine dragged on the same: I'd wake up with my body heavy, hand already sliding between my legs before I even opened my eyes all the way, fingers circling slow on my clit still warm from sleep, easing the emptiness so I could get out of bed. I'd go to school, but now with one small difference: between classes, I'd sneak off to the bathroom once or twice, lock the door, pull down my baggy jeans, touch myself quick, feeling the tingle climb up my skinny thighs. Sometimes I didn't even cum, but I needed to feel that touch.

It was like my medicine — Fabiano — was losing its punch, and it really was. He'd show up every afternoon, mechanical as hell, cock sliding deep without any rhythm, sweat dripping on my skin, using me quick before vanishing, not giving a damn if I was turned on or not, if I came or got left hanging halfway.

He even tried to be a real boyfriend, I gotta admit. He'd take me out, sit with me on the couch, hand on my knee, trying to talk. But I just wanted that: to give it to him, feel his cock inside me. And we fucked everywhere you could imagine — empty elevator in the apartment complex, pool at night with the cold water, or at his place when his parents were out, even in his parents' car parked in a dark corner of the garage.

And it was on a Friday when I was with him, lying completely naked on the bed, waiting for his cock to get hard again for round two, when a friend knocked on the door out of the blue. I scowled right away — that interruption messing up my relief — but Fabiano snapped at me, eyes pissed:

"You gotta socialize, Nicole. I'm tired of your attitude when people are around."

I sat on the couch with them, forced smile, legs crossed feeling the wetness cool slowly in my panties. I listened to their talk about bikes and football, nodding now and then, but inside I was just counting the minutes. I'd always been a loner, had a hard time socializing with people — words stuck in my throat, my eyes darted away, and my whole body begged to disappear. I was only there because I was scared of losing the cock that saved my day, the fix that made me function. That's why I played it cool, quiet, listening to the two of them, waiting for the friend to leave so we could fuck again.

But then, I don't know where it came from, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. Fabiano's friend was cute, Gustavo was his name. Short messy hair, tan skin, easy smile, body like he worked out without overdoing it. He laughed loud, gestured talking about his new bike, and I noticed how his shirt hugged his chest, the strong arm when he leaned forward. And suddenly the question popped into my head, clear as day: what if he wanted to fuck me too?

It was like the world cracked open a new window. If Fabiano wanted it, if he took me like that, quick no talk, why not this guy? Why not others? I was average, skinny, plain, but it seemed like somebody liked it. There were so many other guys out there — in the apartment complex, at school, on the street, even at church — who might want it. Who might look at me, at my pale skin, my small flat tits, and want to grab me, use me, fill me up without me having to ask or try. The idea hit me like a sweet punch to the gut: I didn't have to be pretty or interesting. I just had to be there, passive, available. And they'd come.

The horniness surged fast, my clit throbbing again, nipples hardening again rubbing the fabric. I squeezed my thighs, breath shorter, staring at Fabiano's friend without him noticing. He laughed at some joke, and I pictured him pinning me against the wall, hand sliding up under my shirt, mouth on my neck, hard cock thrusting deep no delay. The emptiness Fabiano couldn't fill came back, but now with a new hunger: it wasn't just for one friendly cock anymore. It was for every cock I could get.

Fabiano glanced at me from the side, like he sensed something.

"Everything okay?"

I smiled shy, a little sideways.

"Yeah. Just... thinking."

He didn't ask more.

Not ten minutes later, Gustavo said he had to go. He got up from the couch, yawned and stretched his arms then scratched like he was sleepy.

"Thanks for the hangout, Fabes. I'm out, got something early tomorrow."

Fabiano nodded, but I saw the chance right there, clear as the afternoon light still coming through the window. My body was jittery, but the desire wouldn't cool — it just switched targets. Without thinking too much, I stood up too, like it was no big deal.

"I'm heading down too," I said low, voice neutral, like it was just a coincidence.

Fabiano looked weird, eyebrow raised, but he didn't say anything. He already knew I was odd, that sometimes I did stuff without explaining. Gustavo laughed, slapping his shoulder.

"Then I'll give you a ride, Nicole. Let's go!"

We all went out to the hallway, the elevator taking forever like always. Fabiano stayed at his apartment door, waving, but I felt his eyes on my back, heavy, questioning, like he knew something was off. When the doors closed, just the two of us in the tight space, the air got thicker, hotter, loaded with his scent — he had that manly smell that made me dizzy.

I took a deep breath, heart beating quiet but steady, and looked at Gustavo sideways, eyes heavy, not blinking much.

"You got a girlfriend?"

The question came out blunt, straight, no bullshit. He turned his face to me, surprise in his eyes, then a slow smile, like he'd figured out the game all of a sudden, corner of his mouth pulling up slow.

"Nah, why?"

I didn't answer right away. Just squeezed my thighs, feeling the heat build again, slow, hot, clit pulsing low under the baggy jeans. I kept staring at him steady, eyes heavy, not blinking much, like the silence could say everything I couldn't.

"Wanna fuck me?"

The question came out blunt, straight, voice low but firm, no shaking. He stared at me stunned, mouth half-open, just blinking nervous, couldn't get words out right.

"What do you mean, Nicole? You're Fabiano's girlfriend..."

"I am not." I didn't have a single reaction on my face that gave away what I was thinking, a sex machine wanting what it was programmed to do. "You want to or not?"

The guy ran his hand through his hair, messing it more, thought about it. I stopped the elevator on the wrong floor, doors open to the empty hallway. Time stretched out forever, the hum of the dim light, the night breeze coming through the door, raising goosebumps on my pale arm skin. My heart beat quiet but hard, my whole body pulsing, wet, ready, just waiting for him to say yes so I could let it happen.

"I do, but Fabiano..."

"Where do you live?" I cut off the whining he was about to start.

"My place won't work, forget it, people are home."

I grabbed his arm pulling him out of the elevator and into the stairwell. The place was a gray dimness with the smell of damp concrete and dust. The door shut behind us with a heavy thud, echoing in the silence.

And when he stepped in, I took a step toward him before he could say a word.