*Hey there! It’s been a bit since I posted around here, though mainly cause I lacked inspiration to finish this bit…until today. It’s the first part in a small series I’m producing, though I’m not sure at all how things are going to turn out in terms of its progression! Either way, hope someone enjoys this little read!*
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Looking back on everything, I knew Taylor was trouble from the moment I first met her.
Back then, I was a struggling musician spending his Friday and Saturday nights playing in bars while reserving Monday through Thursday for school. What time that wasn’t spent on a drum or bar stool, was behind the counter at my college’s library where I worked part time. I had a pretty set routine honestly, more so than I could say for the two roommates I had.
Johnny was one and Rebecca the other, the trio of us sharing a three bedroom apartment just off campus. Honestly, it was a wonder we were able to co-exist. While Johnny and I had our music in common, the only thing Rebecca could relate to was being broke. She didn’t get into the sorority she wanted, leaving her with little in the way of options for housing, and naturally we needed someone to help with the rent. She wasn’t very thrilled at first with our lifestyle, nor the music we always blasted in the living room, but eventually she became a regular at our shows and a dear friend. So much so, she’d always hold us a table for when we got off stage.
After a set one night, Johnny and I sat at a table our guitarist had snagged for us, drinking away and listening to the next group that went on stage.
“Have you seen, Becca?” I asked, finding it strange she hadn’t been holding a table for us to begin with.
“Nah, but that don’t mean anything. Probably chatting up some guy. You know how she gets at these things,” He answered, giving a half salute with his glass.
Johnny wasn’t wrong, but still with me being the more level headed of the group, I was a bit worried. All that subsided though the moment she came strolling up with Taylor at her side.
I can still remember the first thing that caught my eye was how she held herself. Standing at 5’4”, it wasn’t hard to tell she was hell in a small package with the way she cocked one hip out. Leather jacket, white tank top, jeans that looked like they had been mauled by a cougar, it all worked to accent the bit of extra weight she carried that filled out her curves. Yeah, I know. Most of you listening to something like this expect some model-esque stick figure of a woman to be the one strolling up, but Taylor wasn’t her. She had weight, she had an overbite, but most importantly she had personality.
Her hair was only further proof of her spitfire nature. Black strands gradually faded into teal tips, the length of it all spilling half way down her back with the stark color change happening about ear level. Spending most of my time around the punk rock scene, I was used to the crazy hairstyles out there. Mohawks, Pompadours, and half shaved heads were all the rage, but in a sea of crazy, simple had a way of standing out.
Rebecca made the introductions, telling us how they met in Psychology class and had invited her to come listen to mine and Johnny’s band. Having no problem with the new addition, we welcomed her warmly and poured her a glass from the pitcher of beer we were sharing.
“I really liked your set,” She spoke after a gulp from her glass. “Reminds me of the Dead Kennedys.”
“We could’ve played better,” Johnny chirped instantly. I guess I should take a second to mention he was the front man for us; a bass wielding hot shot with vocal chords to boot. He was a pretty big narcissist now that I think about it, and anytime the subject of us came up he was quick to write us off.
“You’re just pissed ‘cause ‘ya didn’t get a bra tossed at you,” I shot back, gaining laughter from the rest of the party.
“Maybe the chicks here just aren’t wearing any?” the newcomer offered, one clearly maintained brow peaking. I don’t know if she was trying to hint at herself or not; that leather jacket keeping the answer from view. I thought she might have though with the way her lips twisted into a smirk.
Regardless, it was clear that she fit in with us right away, and we spent most of that night sitting there drinking and talking. I didn’t know back then that she was going to be around as much as she wound up being. Her and Rebecca turned out to have a pretty fruitful friendship, and it became common place to see her at a party or show. Hell, there were even a few times she stopped by the library when I was working, but I’ll get more on that later. Eventually, it got to the point that she began staying over, normally after a weekend bender to take soalice on our couch until the next morning where she disappeared to…well wherever.
What started things between us occured one Saturday night. Winter was picking up full force and the band had gone into a bit of a dry spell. We could’ve probably found a few shows to play, but trying to lug around equipment in an old van with no heat wasn’t much fun. The parties we went to had diminished as well, leaving most of our free time spent back in the warmth of our apartment.
It was just the four of us. I was in my usual place on the couch with Rebecca to my right. Johnny sat in one chair to my left, and Taylor in the one to Becca’s right. Our living room wasn’t much, but it served our purposes. Two chairs and a couch sat around a coffee table, leaving everyone within reach of their drinks and snacks. In front of it, we had a TV, though it was normally kept off in favor for the record player that sat on the shelf beneath its stand. Tonight, it was spinning some old Ramones album Johnny had picked up for cheap while we split a bottle of Jameson. Whatever warmth that we couldn’t achieve from the heat inside, was surely supplemented by the alcohol..
“So,” Taylor began after the laughter died down between us, “have any of you hooked up with each other?”
The question brought silence among us, making the steady thumps of ‘Teenage Lobotomy’ almost seem eerie. Speaking for myself, I knew I hadn’t. Rebecca was attractive, don’t get me wrong. She was a very athletic blonde, having spent most of her high school career running track and doing cheerleading. The former was what landed her a spot on campus, a full ride offered up, but she hadn’t gotten complacent. She worked out regularly, and truth be told her ass did look great in a pair of yoga pants. Still, the main thing that kept me from ever making a move was just she simply wasn’t my type. Rebecca was a total prep; teen spirit and all.
“Nooooo,” She drew out, giving her friend a bit of a ‘quit being a dumbass’ stare.
The teal haired woman cackled slightly and rolled her eyes. “Bullshit,” She hissed out, “I know one of you have at least thought about it. C’mon, it’s natural. I lived in a place with a few others and we all exchanged sheets at one point or another.”
There was another bit of silence, this one not as awkward as the first, before Johnny spoke up.
“Thought about it?” He questioned, “Yeah sure. I’ve thought about it.”
Rebecca’s cheeks lit into shades of red, her eyes just as wide as mine. “What?” She asked, brows raised. Just one look over at Taylor and I knew she was eating this up.
“Not about you!” Johnny exclaimed, laughing wildly, “about boy wonder over there. His drum work just gets me so hot.”
The pillow I had been halfway laying on was jerked from beneath me as Rebecca used it as her own personal projectile. It went through the air, hit Johnny, then bounced off him as the room erupted into laughter. “Jerk.” She hissed teasingly, though I wasn’t too sure there wasn’t a bit of hurt behind her tone.
“Alright, alright,” Taylor cut in, “Knock it off and be serious, Johnny-boy. You ever thought about hitting that?” Her hazel hues cut over towards the blonde to her left, causing Rebecca to avert her gaze.
“Yeah, a couple of times.” He answered, not at all sounding bothered by his admission.
“Sooo-” She furthered, “Why haven’t you?”
It was clear to see me and Rebecca both were finding the situation a little awkward, but she was the first to speak up about it. “Woah, hold on!” She protested, “W-we don’t need to need to hear this, Johnny. Just uh-”
“Oh c’mon,” Taylor erupted in reply, “Don’t tell me you haven’t ever thought about it yourself. Wasn’t it you who told me the other night that you’d get down on your knees for him?”
That blush on Rebecca’s face darkened instantly, her voice cracking as she exclaimed, “I was drunk! We were playing a game and you happened to throw Johnny’s name in a pot next to that weird barista from the campus coffee house. He was the only sane choice.”
By that point, we were all laughing again minus the blonde with her beet red cheeks. She didn’t seem to happy that her friend had spilled the beans, but Johnny? Well, Johnny had a shit eating displayed proudly.
“The only sane choice?” He echoed, brows raised dramatically.
“She’s not wrong.” I piped in, cutting a grin that earned me an eye roll from his behalf.
“Oh shut up, Logan,” Rebecca hissed at me, “It was just a game. I don’t think of either one of you like that.”
“Prove it.” Taylor challenged, “If you seriously don’t think of him in that sort of way, then get up right now and kiss him.”
The room went quiet again as tension set into the air, more so on Rebecca’s behalf than anyone else’s. Johnny and I both thought the situation was comical in that sort of school yard kids picking on one another way, and as the blonde mulled the thought over, we couldn’t contain our little chuckles.
Without so much as a single word, Rebecca shot up from her seat. It all happened so fast that it left my head spinning. I remember seeing Taylor’s lips twist into a grin, those soft outlined lips of a devil who’s gotten ahold of what she wanted, and then catching the sound of Rebecca’s glass slamming into the coffee table before us. Next thing that happened was the kiss. Even from an outsider’s point of view, there was no doubting the chemistry that sparked between them. It was a simple kiss, nothing dramatic or sloppy, but the look on Johnny’s face said it all when she pulled back.
“There,” Rebecca hissed, tossing her gaze back towards the spitfire in her chair, “Happy?”
She was. Taylor’s lips never relaxed from their crooked posture even as the blonde stormed off to her room. Johnny on the other hand? His grin had disappeared, replaced with a soft expression of longing. Needless to say, the party ended at that. We picked up what little bit we all had dragged out of the course of our after-party, setting most things in a pile on the counter to deal with until morning. After that, there was silence; no good nights, and no more small talk. Instead, Johnny and I slipped off to our respective rooms while Taylor settled onto the couch.
Drinking has always made me sleep better. Growing up, I suffered from night terrors, so most nights I only got a couple of hours sleep before waking myself up. In high school, there were meds that helped me for a bit, but booze wound up being the one thing to cure it. I wish I could say I woke up from some fucked up dream that left me screaming, but instead it was the sound of springs squeaking.
At first, I figured it was just some sort of joke. Johnny always had a way of beating a dead horse, and sometimes that made him a bit of an asshole. It would’ve been no surprise to have found him rocking himself upon the bed, acting as if there were an invisible woman a top of him just to drive the point home to Rebecca. Thing was though, her room was on the other side of the apartment. He would’ve had to have been near jumping to make that sound known to her, and it was way too light for that.
I’ll admit, my curiosity got the best of me. Even as I shuffled out of bed and towards my door, I wasn’t thinking of actually stumbling upon something. In my head, all I could see was Johnny bouncing on his bed, leading me to tell him to knock it off before returning back to my slumber. No harm, no foul right?
What I found instead wasn’t even something I had thought of as a possibility. Sure, worst case scenario was I stumbled upon my best friend fucking the new girl, her teal strands swaying as her hips rocked upon him. Never had I expected her to be kneeling in front of his door, peering through the crack that was there. I guess I should say that was only the half of it. Despite my blurred vision, sleep threatening at the corners of my eyes, it was still easy to make out she wasn’t wearing any pants. Two fleshy mounds, propped up on the heels of her feet and accenting them in a way the scalloped lace of her black panties never could, bore into my pupils. Not only that, but I could see her right arm tucked against her stomach, the hidden hand clearly not supporting herself as that was what the left was doing by clutching at the door frame.
I honestly couldn’t believe it. There I was, watching this woman rubbing one out to the sounds escaping Johnny’s bedroom. No, not just the sounds, but whatever was happening behind it. I could tell she was watching just by the way her forehead barely made contact with the door, one eye bright from the dim light that crept through the crack in the door. Taylor’s breathing was ragged, her red lips parted in pleasure as the hot breathes escaped her. Needless to say, I was frozen in surprise until she noticed me.
“Shit!” She let out in a hiss, somehow managing to keep her voice down. The raven-haired woman scrambled to her feet, giving a bit of a dramatic sigh outward as if catching her breath as she turned to face me. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Sorry, sorry-!” I mouthed, putting my hands up in defense. It wasn’t as if I meant to stumble in on her little session after all, and that’s when I realized what she had said. “Me?!” I fired back breathily, “No, what the fuck are you doing!”
Those hazel hues of hers, once looking at me in contempt, softened instantly. That’s right. I wasn’t in the wrong here. I wasn’t the one that was kneeling in front of my best friend’s door, watching him fuck-
“Are they-?” I asked quickly, not giving her much of a chance to focus on the fact that I just had caught her in the act.
Taylor’s grin was more than the answer I needed.
I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t fathom it really. Sure, the three of us were close, had spent a lot of our free time together, but never did I peg Johnny for going after the little preppy ball of sunshine. I figured Taylor was more his thing, that punk rock ‘let me pin you against the wall and fuck you instead’ sort of vibe right up his alley. I wanted to call bullshit, really did, but the fact that she had been kneeling right there watching it all…
“Come here,” She spoke, waving me over towards her.
Hesitantly, I stepped forward, watching as she left her post so I could look for myself. It felt wrong doing this, my gut taking on a small pang in the base of it, but that did little to stop my movements. Curiosity won me over, and I let my face press against the door frame and line one eye up to the crack.
The image that displayed before me was exactly like the one I had thought up on my way out the bedroom door, the only difference being Rebecca riding him instead of Taylor. The sheets were knocked off, leaving the pair exposed and allowing me to see it all. I watched the way her hips twisted on the downstroke, her heat swallowing up his cock. I watched my best friend’s face twist into pleasure as he helped lift her back up, only to start the whole process again as the headboard gave a gentle rock towards the wall that separated our rooms. With each gentle but intent-driven drive of Rebecca’s hips, I could hear the bed beneath them and those soft squeaks.
“You like it don’t you?” Her voice whispered in my ear, the warmth of her breath cascading down my nerves.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. My mind was enraptured with the sight. Watching two people twisting their bodies around each other from a computer screen was one thing, but this? This was real. There were no lights, no make-up, no director asking for them to really get into it. What laid on their faces, the way their bodies moved, it was all real.
“You do.” Taylor continued to whisper as she pressed up against me slightly, trying to get another peek. My focus was torn at that moment, trying to decide whether to keep watching or revel in the warmth her supple breasts produced when pushed up against me. “I can tell,” She drawled, her voice taking on its own edge of lust, “It’s not hard to see, you know?”
I felt her hand before it even made contact with my crotch. She wasn’t wrong. The whole thing spoke to me, filled my arousal and produced the physical reaction she was groping at in that moment. Whatever focus I had on the image behind the door faltered, my eyes slipping closed as I felt warmth surging through my gut.
“Don’t worry,” Her sultry voice continued in my ear, “It will be our little secret.”
With one final squeeze, her hand parted from my crotch, causing my eyes to open again. I turned slightly, catching Taylor as she slipped back down to her knees. From this angle, I could see down that infamous tank top, her breasts pressed together from the angle of her arms and the tight fabric they pushed against. What really got me though were those hazel eyes, peering up at me as her hands came to my boxers. Part of me wanted to protest, to wave her off and tell the vixen I was going to bed and to forget the whole thing, but it was hard to when I watched her pull my boxers down and expose my cock.
“Look at that,” Taylor purred, bringing a hand up to rub at the underside, “You really did like it.”
I knew from that moment that this wasn’t her first time. The pink flesh that stuck out from between her lips flattened against the base, drawing up the underside in one drawn out stroke. Her hands clutched onto my hips, helping steady not only herself but me as well as she drew her tongue across the swollen head at the end of the journey. All the while, those hazel eyes remained open, staring straight through me.
I pressed one hand against the door frame, still hearing the steady sounds of the springs beneath my friends as Taylor wrapped her red lips around me. That sinful tongue swirled, spreading warmth and moisture in their wake and leaving my knees already growing weak.
Now, I’m not the most attractive human being on the face of the planet. Growing up, I was the chubby kid everyone liked to pick on, and in high school I lost most of the weight. It was the transition into college that really helped me, and while not all of it was gone, I was in considerably better shape than I had been. I didn’t work out, the main lifting I ever really did was carrying my drumset around, but it helped shape my self-image for the better. The one thing I had always been blessed with though was girth; of which I was watching Taylor try and devour.
I wasn’t very long, but her small mouth made me feel like I was huge, only adding to the pleasure I was getting right then and there. When she had enough of her little tease, she began to work down my shaft, lips stretching around it. On one pass, she managed to take a quarter of it, bobbing back and forth slowly from there to the tip to swirl her tongue around it. It was when she worked half way down that I noticed the familiar rhythm, the downstroke with her tongue padding the underside of my shaft matching with the squeak of the springs. My arousal piqued in that moment, the hand not clutching onto the door frame coming down to first cradle her cheek before running up to tangle its fingers into her hair.
Hot breaths began to make themselves known, her retreating lips leaving me completely at times to release a tiny moan into the air. I didn’t have to look to know what was going on, but did anyways. Beneath the curves of her breasts I could see her hand had slipped back down, moving inside the black fabric of her panties. Her fingers matched the rhythm of her lips and the springs that had become the music of our affair.
Taylor’s lipstick smeared along my flesh as the saliva built up, slowly beginning to seep out of the corners of her mouth. I had never received a messy blowjob in my life, but it seemed tonight was checking a lot of firsts off a list I didn’t know I had wanted. I watched the strands travel down the dimples of her cheeks, pooling at her chin before beginning to drip downward. With each sway of her head, the drops landed in one of two places; the floor, or the cleavage ready to spill from her tank top.
Torn between the woman at my knees and the sounds that were coming behind the door, I chose to close my eyes and tip my head back as I felt that familiar pressure beginning to build in my gut. Our breathing had grown ragged together, mine much more audible than hers, but still of the same cadence. It was when she was starting to let me feel the back of the throat that I noticed the change in the bed springs from behind the door.
What was once a slow and steady rhythm was beginning to quicken, the sound of the springs growing in its wake. Taylor caught on to the same fact, both her hand and mouth moving to match the pace. It was then what I realized she was doing. This wasn’t just some quick get off for the both of us. No, it was a game. She wanted the both of us to climax at the same time they did, and that was also when I realized she had turned her gaze to the crack in the door.
The whole ordeal was a build up for the ages. I could feel that tourniquet in my gut twisting further and further, the pressure there on the rise as the devil on her knees quickened the pace. Within a matter of seconds, I felt the muscles in my thighs beginning to tighten, my knees further growing weary and causing me to hunker slightly to gain a new feeling of balance. The springs continued to climb in their rhythm, Taylor’s head bobbing wildly in an effort to match.
I couldn’t last another moment.
“Mmmph~” The muffled noise vibrated against my shaft as I tipped over the edge of my cliff, starting a chain reaction. The squeaking had stopped, Taylor’s throat opening as the head of my cock pressed to the back of it at her final stroke. I spilled my cum down it with ease, hearing the gurgle of a moan seeping past the sinful lips wrapped around me as another came from behind the door. It was a harmony; Taylor’s choked noise matching the two of pleasure from across the threshold. My fingers slackened in her hair, and once the last bit of sin spilled from me, she pulled back panting.
“Fuck,” She let out, her shoulders rising and falling from both her own orgasm and the lack of air she had put on herself. Those hazel eyes found their way back up at me, the edges of them plagued with running mascara. Her lips, swollen from the motions she forced upon them, remained parted slightly as she tried to steady her breathing.
What fear that had once burrowed into my mind came rushing back. It was doubtful the pair we had watched was going to separate anytime soon, but knowing my luck it would be just like Johnny to throw open the door and catch me with my dick out. Reaching down, I jerked my boxers back up my legs, catching the way Taylor was grinning at me.
“What?” I asked, unable to help the lazy smile that had taken over my lips.
“Nothing,” She whispered in a sing-song manner.
For some strange reason, I didn’t believe her. After what happened, there was something on her mind that she was not telling me; that sultry grin proof enough. I peered down at her once more, offering a hand to help her up but she denied it. Instead, she got to her feet on her own, bosom bouncing lightly, and went back to the couch without so much as a kiss. I stood there transfixed, unable to move as I watched how nonchalantly she made her way back, as if she hadn’t just been stuffing her face into my junk.
I was too tired to question things further. After my orgasm, I was eighty-five percent sure this had all been just a dream, and my mind treated it as such. When my eyes closed, visions of Taylor danced through my head, leading me from her place in front of Johnny’s door and back to my bedroom where we fucked in the same manner our friends had, as if that was the plan all along.
When I woke up the next morning, the apartment was empty. It wasn’t an uncommon sight, but after my dreams I felt a bit uneasy being alone. I trailed around the living room, catching makings of where Taylor had slept. As much as I enjoyed my friends’ company, they always left it to me to clean up after their messes, the teal haired woman the same. I folded up the blanket, draping it across the back of the couch where it belonged, before picking up the pillow. When I did, I catch the sight of a small piece of paper, folded up and laying there. My heart dropped slightly, afraid of what was written there. Did Taylor leave it? Surely she did, and when I opened it I was slightly relieved to see her handwriting….until I read to the end of the note.
>Logan,
> Last night was….let’s just say fun ;)
> How about we get together again soon?
> Talk later.
> Taylor xoxo
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/8ts0yq/through_the_crack_in_the_door_part
Very nice and unique. Can’t wait to read more!