Mainstreaming | JOE GOLDBERG

1 9 | L E T T E R S

And you're not wearing a bra.

Hm.

What an interesting turn of events, Leila. Were you hoping I'd notice? I mean, I'm sorry it took me this long. You have a jean jacket on, after all. It blocked my view most of the night, the reason I'm seeing it now is because you're laying down and it just sort of fell open.

I wonder...would you mind terribly if I took it off? Your jacket, I mean. I have to get your shoes off anyway, and Lord knows jean isn't the most comfortable material to sleep in.

Here, let me help you.

That's it, easy now my little lamb. You're limp, like a Raggedy Ann doll. Falling into my chest as I pull you forward and peel your coat away one arm at a time. As you flop back down, your dress just so happens to release one of your breasts. I lick my lips, staring at the petal pink nipple poking out of the fabric.

I was right, you decided against a bra tonight. And everything inside of me just wants to climb on top of you and suckle at your breast...

But I can't.

What I can do is fix it, letting my fingers graze across the nipple as I pull it back into place.

God, I'm hard. I want you to feel how hard you make me, Leila. You did this to me, don't you want to see it?

Just...wake up. Wake up and pull me on top of you. Kiss me all over, let your tongue run down my body. Your mouth find my-

Fuck; knock it off, Joe.

Shoes, I need to get your shoes off and leave.

I can't handle being around you much longer. It pains me that I can't trust myself. Maybe I should have let Sarah ride me. It'd make all of this easier. 

God, being good is too damn hard.

But I don't want to leave you, Leila. I did my best to find you a babysitter, but Evan's mentally almost at your level. And Mark is no where to be found. He's probably with her, trying to sober her back up.

That leaves me.

Battling my damnedest in the ultimate test.

Shit!

I'll take your bed. It's the closest thing you have to another room. Out sight, out of mind? 

"Or," Candace sits on the edge of the couch. She lets her fingers dance over your figure. They linger at your chest, at the piece I just fixed. "You could play with yourself a little. She's out cold. You don't have to touch her, I could do that for you. All you'd have to do is get your hand and-" She sways over to me, takes my hand and helps me unbutton my pants. God, I really am hard. "That's it," she coos, "go ahead. Take care of yourself, bunny. And let me show you what you're missing here..."

It's impossible not to watch Candace mount you, Leila. She bites the straps of your dress, pulling them down with her teeth until your breast pops out again. With one hand, she squeezes and plays. The other wanders down to your tights. She makes busy with her tongue, licking your neck, letting her lips kiss you all the way down...

Oh, God. What's wrong with me? Am I- am I really doing this?

Yes, yes! Oh, God! Yes.

My hand is a poor imitation of what you'd feel like. So soft. Tight. Warm. But watching Candace on top of you....wait, do I like it?

I stop just on the brink of completion.

No.

No!