Turning Tables

It was official.

I was a slut.

I cheated on my boyfriend. I am that kind of girl.

The first time it happened, I was going to call Matt and tell him right away. He honestly would have understood. I didn’t drink much, so when I did, I usually ended up doing something stupid or other.
“Hey, babe,” Matt had answered the phone the morning after my first kiss with Tyler. “Can I call you back? I have another session in about five minutes and I need to get ready.”

“Who is it?” I had asked, all guilt dissipating because I had a pretty good idea who it was going to be.

“It doesn’t matter, Luce,” he replied, his voice strained. He knew where this was going.

“Who it is?” I repeated. I heard Matt exhaled loudly on his end.

“Abby,” he finally answered.

Of course it was. Abby Ryan was in love with Matt. Well, most girls were, but Abby was the worst.

Matt was a Teaching Assistant in the Biology Department, and if he wasn’t in the lab lecturing, then he was in the library tutoring. Unlike most of the male TAs out there, Matt was a goofy surfer kid from Rehoboth, Delaware, with blue eyes and dirty blond hair. He rode a long board to class for Christ’s sake.

Naturally, his labs were 90% giddy females and 10% annoyed males. Plus, there were all the extra tutoring sessions he did on the side for extra money.

I was one of those giddy females a year ago. One overnight swim and a couple late night tutoring sessions later, and we were dating.

Which was enough to make most girls back off. But not Abby. Oh no. Suddenly, she was failing everything and anything and needed Matt’s help more than usual.

And now, he NEVER had time to do anything. Including pick me up from work.

Still, that was no excuse to cuddle up and make out with Tyler Sequin. Unless Tyler Sequin is a good enough excuse.

“Hey, Luce,” Matt said now, coming inside my apartment. He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the lips. “Sorry I’m late.”

Again, I added in my head. “Matt, I can’t hang out tonight.” I stood in the small hallway, blocking his path. He looked at me questioningly. It was true he was usually the one to cancel or flat out reject a date because he was so busy with other things.

“Why not?” He frowned.

“It’s that time of the month,” I lied, putting both hands on each wall to stop him from coming any further.

“Luce, I don’t care,” He said, looking a little offended. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I know, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Can I get you anything? Soup or medicine? Something?”

Why did he have to be so sweet? And now of all times. Why not before this?

When Tyler Sequin wasn’t hiding in my bathroom.

I smiled apologetically at Matt. “I just want to sleep, if that’s okay with you?” I tried to look like a sad puppy, but it looked more like a pathetic attempt to seduce him.

Neither look was achieved, and Matt just frowned some more. “Okay,” he agreed hesitantly. “But call me if you need anything.”

And then he was gone.

I breathed a sigh relieved, glad that part was over. Now I just had to face Tyler.

…..

“Boyfriend?!” I exploded out of the bathroom. Lucy cringed and went into the kitchen, opening up a cabinet and grabbing two wineglasses. She proceeded to pour an entire bottle into the two glasses and brought them to the mini dining table.

Sitting down, she drained half of her glass.

I forcefully pulled a chair out and sat down hard, glaring at her.

“Good wine,” she mumbled, draining the remaining contents of her glass.

“Luce,” I snarled. “What. The. Hell.”

“Oh, yeah. That.” She took a deep breath. “That was my boyfriend, Matt. Are you gonna drink that?” She grabbed my glass before I could answer and took another huge gulp.

“I knew you were crazy,” I scoffed. “But I didn’t know how crazy.”

Her eyebrows knitted together. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” I answered confidently. “You wouldn’t hook up with me, and I thought it was my problem. Turns out, you had a boyfriend, and some semblance of a conscience.”

Her confused look turned into anger. “You think the reason I wouldn’t sleep with you is because I have a boyfriend?”

“Yeah, why else?”

She gave a look as if you say, isn’t it obvious?

“I meant what I said,” she repeated, all traces of anger gone now. “I don’t want to be a one night stand.”

I was suddenly nervous. “That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” I muttered.
“Until he showed up. I thought maybe we could--”

“We could what?” And just like that, the anger was back. “Maybe we could fuck and then you’d pretend like we never met?” She got up angrily, the chair sliding back loudly. She marched into the conjoined living room and bedroom, pacing back and forth.

I followed her, not sure what to say. Yes, that had crossed my mind. Not the pretending we never met part, but the other part.

Truth was, I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore. I really liked Lucy, but I definitely didn’t want a relationship. At least, I didn’t think I did.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, coming to stand behind her. “But I wanted to try.”

“Try what?” She snapped, wheeling around to face me.

“I don’t know!” I yelled. “Being with you? Even though you’re bat-shit crazy! And I hate you! But it doesn’t matter, cause you have a fucking boyfriend.”

She sneered. “Like that would stop you.”

She was right, and to prove it, I grabbed her face in my hands and pulled her to me, kissing her like she was dying and this was the only thing I could do to save her life.

…..

“Get off of me!” I shoved him back, hard enough to send him stumbling. “You need to leave, Tyler.” He advanced, and I shoved again, this time he sat back on the couch while I stood, breathing hard from the exertion by my bed. He was up like a shot, and once again crushed his lips to mine.

He pulled back, panting, and looked directly into my eyes. “Tell me you don’t have feelings for me.”

“I don’t,” I answered with as much vehemence as I could muster as my heart raced at a million beats per minute. I hated his effect on me.

“Liar.” Suddenly, I was shoved against the wall, halfheartedly pushing him away while trying to bring him closer to me. It was not an easy battle. Despite knowing that he would just leave me in the morning, my body betrayed me and I let his kiss consume me.

Matt. I had to think about Matt.

I broke away, making a run towards the door. He needed to leave. Tyler reached out an arm and grabbed the strap of my tank top, pulling hard and ripping it all together.

“You asshole!” I yelled. “That was my favorite tank top!” This was the final straw. I wasn’t sure if I liked having him around or not, since I always ended up doing something bad (like cheating on my boyfriend) when he was around.

I was angry at him for that, even though I knew it was all my fault. He didn’t even know about Matt. I was also angry at the way his body made me feel against mine, making me lose control of my entire self. But again, not his fault.

But my tank top? My favorite tank top? That was completely his fault. And even though it was trivial, it made me angrier than anything before.

I pounced, grabbing his shirt in my fists and pulling hard and fast, causing the little white buttons on his light blue, no doubt designer shirt to explode off one by one to reveal his toned and sculpted chest.

“That was Michael Kors!” he cried. He still had a broken strap in his fist, and using his other hand, ripped my tank top clean off of me. My eyes widen in shock and I punched him repeatedly as hard as I could.

It didn’t seem to have any effect on him, since he just stood there, panting hard.

“Ugh!” I cried, punching him one last time before giving up. My fists clearly didn’t hurt him at all.

“My turn,” he said simply, and before I knew, I was whisked violently onto my own bed.

“Ah!” I yelled as I bounced onto the mattress. “Get the fuck out!” He climbed on top of me, and my hands were a blur as they tried to make contact with any part of him I could reach.

His powerful legs held mine down as I struggled underneath him. One hand grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head.

His other hand tugged my strapless bra down, freeing my breasts from the confines of the cups.

I gasped indignantly at the violation.

“Get the fuck off of me,” I whispered. But of course, he didn’t. Instead, he took a breast into his hand and gently massaged it, and this time, when I gasped, it was because of pleasure, not anger. He dipped his head and replaced his mouth where his hand had been, and I shuddered involuntarily.

Slowly, the hand pinning my wrists let go, as if he was unsure of what I might do now that my hands were free.

Our eyes locked and for five silent seconds, we had an entire conversation without saying a single word.

I reached up, pushing his shirt fiercely off of his broad shoulders. I fumbled with his belt and jeans and used my feet to push them down his legs. I took him into my hand and he groaned loudly, pressing himself harder against me. Getting up, I grabbed a condom from my nightstand and rolled in onto him.

“This doesn’t change anything,” I gasped as he slipped my shorts off with more force than necessary. “I still think you’re a pathetic excuse for a person!”

“You talk too much,” he replied, before jumping on top of me and shoving my legs apart with his knee. He slid the tip of his erection against me and every muscle in my body tightened.

I held my breath, waiting, but he just kept repeating the movement.

“Admit it,” he said, his voice husky. “You want me.”

I wanted him, but I would never admit it.

“I’d rather die.” I made one last ditch attempt to salvage any morality I still had and tried to crawl away on my elbows while he was on top of me. Catching up to my plan, he put his hands on my shoulders and pulled down, slamming inside me at the same time.

I cried out as my entire body convulsed with pleasure. He groaned, slowly pulling out before thrusting again.

“I hate you!” I cried out, arching my back, meeting him thrust for thrust. He kissed me then, lips moving with a fiery passion that sent my mind reeling. Our tongues danced as every part of me hummed and sang.

“Feeling’s mutual,” he panted, burying himself deep inside me.

I groaned loudly, passionately, as his assault continued. I hated myself as much as I hated him, but I couldn’t stop for the life of me.

He moved faster and faster, and with every stroke, I got closer and closer. He was breathing hard, cursing with every breath. With one final thrust, he pushed deep inside me.

“Fuck!” he grunted as I cried out. He shook one, twice, as he finished, spent, before collapsing on top of me.

Yep. I was a slut.

……

I woke up with her in my arms, cuddled up against me. For the first time ever, I didn’t panic trying to think of an exit strategy. Since it was the girl’s place, I’d normally try to quietly leave without waking her, and if she did wake, I’d say I had an early practice I had to get to.

If it was my place? Well, the early practice thing usually worked then, too.

But waking up to find Lucy next to me was nice, especially after last night. She had her back turned to me, and I stroked her shoulder gently, wanting to touch her even though I was already touching her.

She stirred. “Please tell me last night didn’t happen.” Her voice was throaty from sleep. I felt myself getting hard again.

“It didn’t happen.”

“Are you lying?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god. This isn't happening. Matt's supposed to meet my parents next weekend.”

That peaked my interest. “Where?”

“Bistro du Midi? It’s French, I think,” she answered groggily, turning to face me. “I feel dirty. I need to shower.” She sat up, and I drank in her messy hair and nakedness.

“Round two?” I asked as she got up, walking around the bed and towards the bathroom. She didn’t turn around or even acknowledge that I’d spoken.

“I don’t see what’s stopping you.”

I’d never been happier to get out of bed as I hopped off, following her into the bathroom.