much, it’s like I actually carved out my heart that weekend and left it behind in his house. No matter how much an asshole I act, he’s been a goddamn saint since. Never pushing me. Never trying to play dirty. Just patient and understanding and I am so done with all my bullshit.
It’s time to move forward. I finally feel ready.
The fact that it’s an unseasonal blistering hot June day only seems to spur me on. Like I’ve been standing still for so long, treading water, and now I’m ready to sprint. There’s only one direction for me to sprint to: Shane.
If he’ll still have me.
I pick up my phone and flick through to my secret folder where I keep the videos from that weekend. I’ve watched them more times than I care to admit. Bringing myself to orgasm at the sight of his fingers in my pussy or me riding his mouth, riding his cock. My hands are nowhere near as good as the real thing.
He said to send the videos when I’m finally ready to move forward.
My thumb hovers over the button to do it, but I hesitate. Is it too late? Have I lingered too long? Nervous energy has me texting him instead.
Me: It’s wicked hot today.
He responds almost immediately.
Shane: I was actually thinking of getting the pool ready to go.
Just like that, an idea forms. A filthy, perfect idea.
Me: You should. Gotta maximize every hot summer day.
Shane: Agreed.
Me: Are you still going home for lunch?
Shane: Sometimes. Why?
Me: Just wondering.
Me: I have to go. I’ll catch up with you soon.
Shane: Okay. Have a good day.
I check the clock. It’s mid-morning, which means I don’t have much time. I take a shower and get ready, throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank top and filling a tote bag with the things I’ll need. It’s not until I’m driving to Shane’s that my nerves ramp up.
If he doesn’t want me anymore, I’m setting myself up for one hell of a humiliating experience.
I find the spare key exactly where it’s always been, tucked under a fake rock near the front door, and let myself in. Even though I know better, I drift through the house. I’m not exactly looking for evidence that he’s moved on, but I still exhale in relief when I find things exactly as they were the last time I was here.
It’s game time.
I strip and pull on the white wrap cover-up that I bought a month ago because it made me think of Shane. The cut almost looks Grecian, narrow swathes of fabric draping from my shoulders over my breasts and crisscrossing at my hips to form a tiny little skirt. It’s cute with my swimsuit on under it. It’s dirty as hell without.
I take a deep breath and walk out into the backyard. The cover is still on the pool, but he’s got the lounge chairs out like I hoped. Shane likes to read in the evenings out here as soon as the weather’s nice, so I bet he brought them out of storage the second the temperature edged to barely tolerable.
I drape myself over the lounge chair in the shade and take a deep breath. Here we go. I lift my phone, position it over my face in a selfie angle, and push record. “Hi Shane. I might have done a little breaking and entering to get into your backyard, but is it really breaking and entering if I know where the spare key is?”
I’m talking too fast, my words tumbling over themselves, but I can’t seem to stop. “I didn’t expect to be this nervous, but here we are.” I nibble my bottom lip. “I know you said to send those videos when I was ready, but I don’t want to live in the past. I want a future.” I give a small smile. “So I’m making you a new video.”
I drag my finger down my neck, carefully following it with the camera, to cup my left breast. The white fabric is almost see-through. “I bought this just for you.” I tug it to the side, baring my breast, and let my fingers linger on my nipple. “I hope you like it.”
It’s harder to get this angle right. I have to sit up a bit as I pull up the wrap to show him my pussy. “Oops. No panties. I know how much you hate that.” I part my pussy and drag my middle finger up my center. “I’ve missed you,