Call Me Twisted

Guilt is such a powerful emotion and it's meant to be felt when there is a wrong doing. So I was quite confused about it. Why was I feeling so guilty for looking at my mom's boyfriend? He had just moved into our house so he was new to me. I actually wanted to hate him for trying to act like my father. That was my full intention until I saw him in those loose white shorts with no shirt on. All that hate melted right off me and puddled at my feet.

'Well hello, Mr. Sexy you can stay with us as long as you want. Just as long as you keep that shirt off. Oh God, what am I doing? This is the dude that my mother banging. Hurry, look away.' The thoughts that entered my mind nearly swept me off my feet.

I immediately opened the fridge and acted like I was looking for something to drink. The reality was that I was trying to stop myself from drooling on my mom's new boy toy. Out of sight, out of mind. That always worked for me before, and I was begging that it would work at the moment. Maybe he would turn around and forget about what just happened. Yes, that seemed possible; it could happen.

"I'm sorry, I thought you would be in school." His gruff voice reached my ears and reminded me that he was still there.

Why did Mom have to be a cougar? She could have dated some 40-year-old man who was in retirement. Or some captain that practically lives in the ocean, but no. She had to get with the men that was damn near my own age and has to walk around shirtless like some model. Why, Mom? Why?

I let out a huff and grabbed a bottle of water. "it's Saturday." I reminded as I turned to face him, this time prepared for his delicious body. "Where's Mom?"

"Work called her in. Life of a cop." He shrugged his shoulders and headed for the cabinet with coffee cups.

"What about you?" I put the water bottle down and folded my arms over my chest. I was silently hoping that he would be gone all day because I was planning to have a party soon. Mason, being the asshole he was, would probably ruin all my plans even though It was my 18th birthday.

"What about me?" He asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Don't you have work or something?" I asked, trying to control my eyes.

"I'm not stupid Avery, I know you plan on throwing a party soon." He informed in a stern voice.

I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"Your mother already filled me in, so I'm going to kick boxing classes and while I'm gone I expect you to act like an adult. . . And save me a beer."

He was restraining himself from bitching at me. I could tell because as soon as the words left his lips he was storming out of the room. A mischievous smile grew on my face as I just realized what Mason did for me. Maybe he wasn't that much of a deuce after all.

The house was crowded, there were way too many people filling every open room. I stood in the kitchen wearing a big white baggy shirt and short jean shorts. Shot glasses and empty liqueur bottles were scattered across the counters. The music wasn't blaring because I didn't want the cops to come because of a stupid noise complaint.

I found a fresh bottle of José Quervo and turned to see a tall man standing right behind me. He had short blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. I liked blue eyes. It was Rafe, the high school quarterback.
"Hey, happy birthday, Avery." He gave me a full bloom smile.
"thank you Rafe, I'm-"

Rafe cut me off by taking the bottle out of my hand and opening it. He poured it on my neck and leaned down and lapped it all up with his warm moist tongue.

Sparks traveled down my body and all the way to my core. I opened my mouth, completely appalled by what he just did. We weren't alone and a lot of people were staring at us. Panic and pleasure created an interesting feeling in my gut. I started to feel a little light headed and I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the need to be fucked senseless.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked softly.

He reached out and grabbed my hand. "Not tonight."

We went straight to my room and began attacking each other. He pulled off his shirt and I froze. Damn, I wanted to lick his body like a lollipop.

Rafe broke my train of thought by pushing me on the pillow top bed. I bounced a little but Rafe was right on top of me, stripping me of my shirt and shorts. His erection was poking my thigh right through his pants.

I rolled my hips, trying to gain any friction to ease the throbbing on my clit. There were those soft plump lips of his, dancing down my body. At this point my panties were soaked as all I wanted was for him to be inside me. He dipped his tongue in my navel and was hooking his fingers in the waistband of my panties; his elbows keeping him balanced.

The door to my bedroom was slammed open and a loud thud echoed off the walls. Rafe jumped right off me and gathered his shirt. I looked up to see mason stalking in my room. Shit! Where was my shirt? I was so busy looking for my clothes I didn't notice that Mason had shut and locked my door. Oh?

"So, that's what you plan on doing for your birthday? Have sex with some inexperienced school boy?" Mason almost sounded jealous.

"I believe that's what the term 'birthday sex' means." I snapped but silenced myself when my eyes caught a drip of sweat traveling down his bare chest and down his wonderful abs. Whoa.

"If you want to have sex on your birthday it should be with someone more experienced. Someone who could make you cum so hard that you see stars."

I was melting. . .Between his smoldering gaze and his words, it made me want to fuck him.

"So what are you trying to say?" I asked.

He traveled to the end of the bed, grabbed my ankles and dragged me closer to him. My whole face felt flushed and I started to feel like I had a fever. "I'm saying you want a big boy who knows how to take care of this." He began to rub my clit through the fabric with his thumb. I jumped at the sudden magical sensation. "I'm saying if you want to fuck someone, then fuck me." He began unbuckling his belt.
Yes, please.