It was five o' fucking clock in the fucking morning.
And guess where little Sevyn Haren was? Not getting my nails re-polished, like I needed to. Not reading a boring ass story to a group of elder people at some random old folks home. (Kinda wish I was though, so I could convince you guys how good of a person I actually was. Minus me trying to get with a married man. Oh well. Insert sad face.) And I definitely was not getting my back blown out, my ass spanked or cooter in the process of getting demolished by my dream man. (Yes, the one that was married was my dream man. Insert two sad faces.)
I was freezing my ass off.
My hot ass off, I had to add. Well I hoped it looked hot. I spent time and time working on it and perfecting it. Not to impress some man, but to make me look better. Make me feel better. Every YouTube video I watched, yoga routine I memorized and nutritious food I inserted into my body was to help me be the person I wanted to become. And the person I wanted to become, needed to have a hot ass. I worked for the shit.
But enough about my magnificent ass, I had to get back to business and me getting back to business was explaining why the hell I was freezing my ass off.
Because of one man. (Yes, the married one.) The one man who made everything in me light up. (Sadly, yes it he was taken.) The one man who had shifted, scrambled and erased everything in my mind when he feasted his eyes on me. (Yes, yes, a million times yes it was the one who had a wife.)
Fuck, let's once again address the elephant in the living room; he was married. Call me any name you can think of: homewrecker, whore, dumb bitch, hoe, slut, loose pussy, la-di da-di you crunchy pussy ass bitch and more. . .it still woundn't change my feelings for him. In some sense, I was there before her. No wait- I was there before her. I don't even remember them being engaged. Shit probably only lasted a month. All I remember was two years ago, hearing my coach yell some shit about finally getting hitched and then people started talking. Questions were asked and answered. Coach Taylor had gotten married to Coach Epps. I do remember them talking on many occasions throughout my first year, but they worked in the same department, of course they were going to talk. When she announced her marriage, guess who was the first person I thought of?
Cookie Monster.
Yes, the famous cartoon Elmo's friend. That Cookie Monster. And when I found out the truth, that she was married to my not-lover, I almost passed out.
I thought, no way in hell. They have chemistry? Never would I have thought that those two had chemistry. And don't you marry someone because of love? Lust and love go hand in hand. In my book at least. Never, as in all the times that I have been around those two would I ever say, ohhh I feel the sexual tension. They worked together for Christ sake and they didn't have a quickie in the locker room before each practice? They didn't even give each other longing looks. When I heard that they had gotten married I thought I was going to be bummed out, seeing the man that I always fantasized about completely in love with someone else. I expected, oooo I want to fuck you so bad because you're yelling at your team and those leggings look hot looks. Instead all I got was Shut up, you annoying wife looks.
But don't be mistaken, I was still hurt. But not as hurt or sorrow had I been if they were all lovely dovey and coupley. When you got married, especially during the honeymoon faze, I expect passion. Shit, if I had gotten married to Veer, I would always be calling in sick from work every other day because of how good he would fuck me the night before. Shit, he could fuck me on the dirty damn turf.
I didn't know how she did it.
What I did know was that something was fishy. And yes, that something was Coach Taylor's- you know what? Not even going to got there.
I was a good person, remember? An amazing person who loved to help the elderly, children and animals.
But something definitely was fishy. Newly-weds and half the time they looked like they didn't even want to be in the same presence as the other?
Veer was practically begging me to come to his rescue. I saw the pleading words as clear as though they were written big in the sky. The words: Sevyn suck my dick and come save me from this sexless, boring, regretful marriage tattooed in the sky.
I will come for you. I did come for him. Hence why I was freezing my ass, wearing the shortest shorts and skimpiest clothes I could find because I knew that he would be here. Not waiting for me exactly, but doing his morning run which usually occurred at five a.m. And sense I already had to wake up at the butt crack of dawn, I thought fuck it. Either go big or go home and who knew when the next time I was going to have this same energy and get my ass up at four o'clock, so I could look the fucking best. Yes I was cold, but it was a price I had to pay. And seeing Veer fall at his fucking feet because I looked amazing? Whew, it would all be worth it.
And speaking of the sexy, two red horns stuck up the ass devil, he appeared. I saw the handsome well built man jogging on the farthest lane, making his way around. Plan in fucking motion.
I made sure my outfit is up to hoe code, popped in my earphones and started on my jogging journey. Jogging mission. I couldn't straight go up to him yet. I didn't want him to know that I came to see him. It was the reality of the situation because I never wake up this early, but I did not want him to know that yet.
I needed to play it diligently. And by playing it diligently: he needed to feel like he was the one in charge. Plus it would be better on my conscience if he made the first move.
I would do what I did best, what I learned to do best: tease. If he took a bite of the apple, who am I to deny him the poison? It would be his choice. He knew the outcome. He knew the consequences. His choice. Plus I would reap the rewards. (No judgy judgy.)
Anyways, I started up with my jog. Plan in fucking motion. I knew what I needed to do. He was going at a slower pace, hello jogging, and I would use that as my advantage. I would pass the man, once or twice so he knew I was here. I would stop by the water filling machine, bend down to fill up my water (He-he). I would stretch in the middle of the field (Another he-he). And damn, I just needed to find a way to produce contact. And no not groping the man (As I said, he needed to make the first move move), I meant a simple push or tap. Maybe I fake passing out and he would have to carry me to the nurse? Maybe I could fake a knee accident? Maybe 'accidentally' hit him and say, oh sorry I thought I saw a bee on your back?
My brain usually moved faster as my motion increased. And motion did increase, I started jogging faster going into a run and passed by Veer once. Yes I did I feel his eyes on. His eyes all over me. Blazing me. My legs were no longer cold. My arms heated up. My entire body felt warmer. I liked that he had looked at me, a lot aaaa lot.
That was why I did it three more times. He was still jogging at that same pace; slow. Waiting for me to pass him again so he could get an eyeful of my ass? I hoped so. Three times turned into five. Then when I actually was in need for water, I stopped at the fountain. Perfect time too because as I was bending over to 'fix the thing' (wink wink), he was coming around the corner and I knew, I knew, that he got an amazing perfect fantastic view of my hot ass. Especially in my tiny tiny shorts.
Still the plan wasn't finished quite yet. I wanted conversation. Throughout all of my time here on this field, at the ass crack of dawn, he hadn't said one word to me. I wanted to talk to the man, badly, but he needed to be the one to initiate it. I knew what to do: the same thing I did before.
Tie my shoe.
A plain yet devilish thing to do. Devilish because I knew the best position that could showcase all my wonderful goods. A sideways turn that would produce cleavage and an ass cheek. Perfect. I slowly jogged off to the side. A place that was quite hidden, so that if a fuck were to come out of this scheming, we wouldn't get caught and a place I knew he would see when he turned just a little to the right as he jogged down. I knew he would turn, knowing and seeing that I just went over there.
And I couldn't fucking wait.
My longing patience hadn't even been needed because a second of me bent over, my compromised positioning, I felt him. I heard him. I smelt him. I saw his big feet stride over to me in a faster pace then when he was on the track. His tall shadow making me swallow a second breath. Goddamn I could never get used to his height.
"Get up." My favorite coach said, in a tight demanding voice. "What are you doing?"
What does it look like? I'm trying to seduce you. I waited a couple moments, making a cute butterfly lope with my shoelaces and slowly brought myself up from my bent down position. You know how those people always do that slow-mo shit when they come out the pool? Yeah, imagine that I was doing that. "What do you mean? I was tying my shoe. And getting my morning jog in."
"When did you start jogging?
One time I saw you on the field, this time in the morning as I was sneaking back to my dorm. So. . .because of you. Though I would never voice that. "I always did morning jogs. But this was my first time doing them on the track."
A muscle in his jaw ticked. "You always wear that when you're jogging?"
"Wear what?" I wanted my outfit to scream, fuck me I'm so hot. Not, fuck me I'm so desperate. Though I was both.
"That."
I wanted him to physically bring his eyes up and down my body. He had no trouble doing the shit when I wasn't looking, but now since I was front and center he wanted to act like Mr. I have a wife and a happy marriage? Ha, that was funny. "What's that? My shorts? I get all sweaty and hot when I'm working out and less clothes on me the better. Same for you, right?"
Wrong thing to say, hoe. And my thoughts were true because before I could even say, zooooowemama he took a big step in front of me and lowered his head, to stare straight into my dick hungry eyes.
His next words were spoken so lightly, I almost didn't her him. Well that actually was not true. Since I was so close to him, close to his mouth- I could hear every peep that came from him. Even his breathing, which was getting faster and louder.
"Stop fucking showing me your ass." Another lean in of his head had me interpreting that sentence very differently. Did he say, stop fucking around and show me your ass?
"Why?" I breathed, in and out then continued. "Why are you so close?"
His face stayed close to mine. "I want you to completely get it in your brain that I am married. Now you can clearly see my lips and understand what I am saying: I am married. I have a wife." Now let's re-write the last two sentences backwards; Married am I? Wife a have I? See makes no sense, like his marriage.
Still he continued, "Every time I look your way, I see you bent over and your fucking red underwear on display. It's a problem."
And still, I didn't listen. "Red. . .it's your favorite color, right?"
"Don't." Do? "I am married and even if I wasn't, this-" He gestured his hand between him and I. "-was never going to be a thing."
Oh, so he was a liar now? Don't punch him. Don't punch him. Don't punch him. "Okay? I never asked for it to be something." Well lookie here: the couple who lies together, stays together.
I see him contemplating something in his head. Will it be a dumbass comment next or a real fucking dumbass comment next? "Then what's with the over display of your ass and tits?"
And a real fucking dumbass comment for the win! This time, my face showed anger (Yes, horniness was still swirling around in there too). "Over display? I wear what I want. Not for you, not for anybody. For me. And I didn't hold a gun to your head and say, hey look at my ass before I shoot you. Don't blame me for your wandering eyes." I stated in matter-of-fucking-fact. And because I was me, I had to add on, "Plus, I have many guys who are willing to pay to take a look at my ass. Fifty bucks for a cheek! Now, if you'll excuse me-"
I tried to side-step him so I could make my dramatic exit, but he had none of that. He moved a little to the side, so that he was completely blocking me from my out and completely towered over me. He also backed us up, so that my back was plastered on some tree and his arm was locked one the left side of me, trapping me seeming.
Also sorry, did I mention that one of his hands were fastened around one of my wrist? No? Well now its mentioned. Paint the picture.
"What-" Boom. That was the sound of my heart, not an explosion. Just had to clarify. "-Guys?" Pow. Again, my heart! Not, explosion. "What guys are paying you to see your ass?"
Did he know the meaning of the word: liar. I was a liar. Plain and simple. And by me being a liar, I needed to do what I did best: lie. Or avoid the question. I chose plan B and C. Avoid the question and rile him up. "Why do you care? Aren't you happily married?"
Uh oh. The grip on my wrist tightened and he moved two more inches forward. Basically, right up against me. Feet almost touching. Thennn he did a thing in which I knew a married man should never do: his hand dropped down to a person who he did not share vows with. Both hands dropped down, down to my exposed thighs. His touch made a trial of goosebumps erupt on my skin and I physically shuddered. Did he see? Shit, he saw.
With his face still cut sharp of emotion, his hands started a moving. Caressing my smooth cocobutter skin. His minty fresh breath hit my neck as he dropped his head low and grunted in my ear the following sentence, "Don't fucking talk about my marriage."
Oh and I'm supposed to believe this man is happily married?
"W-what? But you-" He didn't stop with the sinning. And let's thank God for that! The sinner moved one of his hands higher and higher then boom: found my happy place. Between the junction of my thighs. His hand placed right on my center. Over the material of course, but it felt like he had been directly on my slit. At least that's what it felt like. His hand moved back and forth and in circles against my center. I had to bite my lip hard so I didn't ended up screaming for more. "Shit, shit, fuuck."
"Shut up." His hand kept up with the dirty work, making me feel anything other than dirty. Pretty funny considering our situation: him - a married man - touching me behind our field, surrounded by trees. Don't care. And I repeated that phrase again as his hand started to move faster, back and forth, circles around my aching clit. I knew he could feel my eagerness through my underwear. My wetness through soaking cloth. I sucked in a breath as he continued, continued and continued. Fuck me with a number two pencil! He needs to fuck me!
Probably hearing my deranged mental thoughts, his hands removed from under me. But in one move, everything from under me was removed. Well underwear was still present, sorry. He had yanked my shorts down. All the way down to my feet and when I looked up, his brown eyes were fucking glued to my red shiny expensive underwear. No, I hadn't known that the man was going to see my underwear today. Eventhough I hoped for it, I knew he wasn't. It was just scandalous and made me feel really sexy. Also really 'naughty' because I had this sexy piece of underwear on and he would've never known.
His eyes traveled up again then down; taking in my amazing legs, amazing underwear and amazing face. "Red is my favorite color."
And after that confusing ass sentence was spoken, a whistle was blown. Making it officially known that Coach Taylor (his wife) had now arrived. Plus my other teammates. Up and early for the cheer practice she had scheduled. He took one lasting look down my body again then up to my face, and turned around and went on his way. Probably back to his office to try to wring one out before he had to come on the field and teach the football team. Because oh boy, that boner that was standing up proud in his sweats was greatly appreciated and needed to be greatly taken care of. I volunteered as tribute!
But now, it was not the time for it. Now was the time for me to pull my shorts back up, fix my clothes and get my head screwed on straight. I still had practice.
Luckily, everyone had followed me and also screwed their head on straight. Yes, my coach was still a cranky bitch so she yelled at us one to many times; Stand up straight! Again! On cue, ladies! I said throw out that gum! But if coach was not yelling at us then something was terribly wrong. I think we did exceptionally good today considering us waking up so early. Coach thought the same because after our long ass practice was done, she said the words: Good job ladies and whew, didn't that cause a smile to rise on my face. I couldn't stand the woman but when she would give you a compliment, she meant it. (It was rare.)
My teammates heard the dismissing whistle and we carried our bodies and pom poms to the locker rooms to get changed and take shower and get started with the rest of our day. Which would mostly consist of classes, classes and another practice.
But luckily me, today, I only had one classes scheduled and it was later in the afternoon. After I was done here, I would go to the cafeteria and grab breakfast then make my way to my dorm, take a nap, finish some homework then head to my class. Yes, I was an evil conniving bitch, but this evil conniving bitch cared about her studies and wanted to get a decent job when I left school, so grades were a priority.
I watched as my locker door swing open and spotted Kiana on the other side if it. "What time did you arrive on the field this morning? I didn't see you changing when I first came in. I did see you on the field though, all dazed and looking confused." She said opening her water bottle and taking a sip. "Where were you?"
Trying to get some married dick. "I arrived there a little earlier so I could practice some drills. I didn't know what we were doing today and I didn't want coach yelling down my throat, like last time."
"Oh really?" She brought her voice down to a whisper. "Because I saw lover boy spring across the field, pissed the fuck off like someone had just denied him his favorite sugar candy."
Kiana was the only person who knew about my infatuation with Coach Epps. I didn't make it a habit of outing my forbidden infatuations, but I needed someone to talk to about it. I needed someone to stir me in the 'right' direction and say: bitch you're crazy. She did say I was crazy, but my direction was still askewed. Left or right?, one would ask. It was the way whichever would lead me to his pants.
"Shut up." I said shutting my locker then turning toward Kiana, and paused. "Wait- really?"
She playfully rolled her eyes. "Yes, really. Now what actually happened this morning? Give me all the details in under twenty minutes though. I got a class that I need to run to."
"I can't do shit in under twenty minutes." I leaned my head in the space between us, voice dropping down a ton too. "And nothing really happened. . .expect for him saying that he liked my underwear."
"Woah, woah what the fuck? How did he see? How would he-" Her mouthed opened wide and she shrieked out the following sentence, "Did you fuck him?"
"Did she fuck who?" A person, who wasn't ever supposed to be in the conversation, asked.
I knew that voice and my suspicious were correct as I now looked at the annoying girl: Elle. Elle, a girl who was not my friend. She was more of Kiana's and sometimes I questioned what was really inside Ki's head because how, who and why would you want to be friends with someone who didn't like Rihanna? Not only that, she once called SZA basic. Like SZA SZA? Bitch was insane and nosey. Very, very much punchable nosey.
"No one. And you wouldn't know him, he goes to a different school." I replied to her.
"Which school?" Nosey ass Elle pressured on more. She took two more steps closer and arrived across from me, leaning on a locker. "I have many friends from different schools and know a lot of people. Shit, who didn't I know?"
Bitch I don't care. "Cool." I turned my full attention to my actual friend, Kiana, and asked, "Do you have time for breakfast? I want to get those biscuits before I head up to do my homework."
She shook her head and I automatic knew I wasn't going to like her answer. "No, I gotta get to my class now. But tomorrow for sure. My classes start later."
I swung my heavy bag on my shoulder, ready to leave and ready to finally make my way to those biscuits and eat. But before I could move another step, I was interrupted. . .
"Why don't you ask, Elle?" All of a sudden, I wanted to punch Kiana's perfect face and cut off her puff balls. "Her class doesn't start till later."
Kiana had this fantasy about Elle and I becoming friends, friends like how she was with her, but that was never going to happen. Elle had drama written all over her and it was funny because she was in the club at school.
"Yeah, I can go with you!" Elle instantly agreed. "And you can tell me all about this guy you were about to fuck." Not even if you were the last person on earth. You can't keep a secret for shit. See the angle? This girl loved tea. "Also, we can walk up together after we eat since our dorm rooms are right next to each other."
Shit. I wish I could deny it. . .but big mouth was my next door neighbor. And that meant I had to be somewhat cordial and 'kind' to her. Annnd her being a big mouth could also help in our favor. She would catch Ki and I up on the latest gossip. (I also liked tea. Not desperate for it like this bitch, but liked it.) She used her abilities to score big on parties too. Now I knew that I said that I would never tell her shit about me, but her mouth was used for a good use when I needed to get information on someone else.
I wasn't the only one benefiting from this 'friendship' though. Well this fakeship. I hooked her up with some of the dudes I was friends with. Or sorta friends with.
She sometimes gave me info and I sometimes gave her options of different dicks. It all balanced itself out.
"Okay, sure." I kinda had to agree. She would see me at the cafeteria and feel a type of way. I still needed to be nice to the trick. She knew where I stayed and she could burn down my whole dorm room if she wanted. "Let's go now and hurry before the food runs out." We said our goodbyes to Kiana and dashed to the cafeteria with one thing on my mind: biscuits.
In the span of twenty minutes, these thing happened: We arrive at the cafeteria and I was rewarded my biscuits. Elle wanted waffles, so we both waited in the waffle line to secure them. We both - shocking, I know - wanted orange juice. So later, we made our way to the juice station and got it. And guess what Elle was doing? What she did best: run her mouth. But the main thing that annoyed me was her constant asking about the conversation we had before. Mine and Kiana's conversation we had before. We walked until we found a spot and all I was still hearing was the constant questions. It hadn't even stopped when we were sat, chewing on our food.
"Come ooooooon, tell me." She terrorized, stuffing another piece of waffle in her mouth. "Who am I going to tell?"
The whole fucking school. I didn't reply to her until after I chewed my biscuit about fifty times. "Girl, drop it. You don't know him. Trust me."
"I probably do though. Try me." She brought her fork down and put her elbows on the table, her hands placed hiking her head up, acting like I was about to explain to her how babies are made. "Are you trying to protect him because his dick was small?"
I made a face. "Um I don't want to be talking about dick while I'm eating, thank you."
"Sevyn, you can trust me. I want to see if the person my bestfriend fucks, is the right person-"
"Who's Sevyn fucking?" Annnd here another fucking person goes. Why is everyone is my business today?
I looked up and met the eyes of Ty Barner. A close friend of Kiana's ex-but-not ex and one of the stars on the basketball team. Guess who liked him? Started with a E and ends with n-o-s-e-y. I had hooked them up once and plainly. . .they fucked, but Elle wanted more and Ty? He just liked fucking. I kept telling the girl that Ty isn't interested anymore, but it goes in one ear and out the other.
I only started being friends with Ty because of the mutual situation between Kiana and her. . .whatever. I once went on a double 'date' with them, I think sophomore year. And Ty was cool. Still a boy, so not quite my type but his face and body wasn't bad to look at, drool at, but Ty already had many people drooling after him. And I was not the type of bitch to mop up the floor. (His name didn't start with a V.)
"Hey, Ty. And I'm not messing with anyone. Elle had one too many waffles and its fucking up her brain."
"Hi, Tyler!" Ms. Jolly exclaimed. She titled her head to the side and blatted her eyelashes so hard and so much, I thought the damn things were about to start moving her and flying her out the door and far away from me.
"Uh. . .hey. . .Elle, right?" He squinted his eyes trying to pin her.
"Of course. You going to the party next week? I mean its mostly for the football team, but I think all sports are welcome." She fluttered her wings once more. "But here's a little secret about me. . ." She leaned over the table, whispering, "Basketball is my favorite sport."
Really? Name all fifty states.
"Mine too." He awkwardly chuckled and moved his eyes back to me, not giving a fuck about what she had to say. Hey! That makes two of us! "I actually came her to ask Sev- I mean you guys, if you were going to the party. You girls need a ride?"
"Yes!" Guess who shouted that out? If you guessed me, eat a dick. (Not Veer's.)
"You going, right?" Ty questioned again, looking me directly in my eyes. Kinda scary.
"Yeah, sure. I'll be bored in my dorm anyway."
"Awesome. Ki and Trey are riding with me too, so it'll be fun." Not with looney toons in the backseat, but whatever. Ty checked something on his phone as it beep and went on his way with the last parting words, "Okay bye y'all, see you guys when I see you."
Elle didn't even wait- not even ten seconds of Ty gone, her mouth went straight back to the moving. Back to the asking. But the good thing about this conversation was that it was not centered around me, but her.
"Dammit, did he change his number again? You need to get me his number again, so we can get together and like go out. Pleasssssse." She scoot her chair over and leaned her face in my personal bubble. Mouth still moving a mile. "Wait- did I ever tell you how good he was in bed? When I tell you that-"
See I was a good person. Instead of tell her to shut the fuck up and go choke on a dick (Not Veer's), I just listened and chewed. Chewed on my biscuit and listened to her ramble on and on about who's whatists and whatever the fuck.
Yes, I was trying to seduce a married man, but can we all look past that for a minute and compliment me on my patience? Compliment me on my anger management skills? Just compliment me. . .
I was such a good person.
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a/n: PLANET FUCKING HER IS OUT ! doja just DONT miss. listen to it, NOWWW
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ALSO leave comments on what you want to see in this book and stuff. what scenes should i put? i need some ideas. AND THANKS for READING !