Yes Please || c.g. {complete}

Under the Table

27

.Carl.

Goddamn was last night hot. Layla and I were back to settling issues with sex, and I was so fucking relieved. We were way too good at pleasing each other not to use those gifts. Nothing brought me more pride than giving that girl as many orgasms as she could handle. I decided that should my way of being protective of her sexually; to be better at pleasing her than anyone ever had or ever could. I was done denying her (and myself) that.

Over the next couple days, we made up for lost time, going at each other as often as we could. When that wasn't possible, the sexting was off the chain. I now had an amazing collection of sexy Layla photos, and running to the bathroom at work to stroke myself to her was a regular occurrence.

I hardly cared that I was distracted at work. Each day I was becoming more and more resentful of the grunt work. I needed to man up and reach out to these military school guys: so-and-so's uncle or neighbor or third cousin once removed.

I kept taking the crumpled list of phone numbers out of my pocket. I sighed and shut the water off before walking out back to the alley. I had to just fucking do it.

I dialed the first number, pacing back and forth as it rang. Here goes nothing.

.....

.Layla.

The past few days I had probably looked like one of those creepy cult members from the '90s- huge, vacant eyes and a shit-eating grin on my face. The difference was I belonged to the Cult of Carl, where the membership requirement was an insatiable libido and a whole lot of fucking. I worshiped my leader, that's for sure.

He and I had been especially...er, passionate...since I'd managed to snap him out of his fear of 'hurting' me. I could look back on that apprehension as him being adorable and loving and protective, but I was just so damn happy to be getting that D again. Shameless, I know.

I had been absentmindedly washing some dishes in the sink one afternoon when I felt my phone buzz. Carl was at work, and I smirked at the possibility of a dirty text as I paused to wipe my hands on a towel before sliding it out of my pocket.

My school schedule. Well that kind of popped my balloon. Classes started up again in a little over a month. My days of having sex with Carl and waiting to have sex with Carl were almost over. My time would once again be dominated by reading and studying and writing papers. Well that's a buzzkill, I sighed as I set the phone down on the counter and resumed my dishwashing.

This feeling I had was clearly the result of Cult of Carl brainwashing; I really did love school. However, I also loved being loved and lusted after and fucked by Carl Gallagher.

School doesn't have to change any of this, I told myself firmly. I could have my cake and eat it too.

I was once again startled from my thoughts by the buzz of my phone. This time it was Carl.

Let's go out to dinner tonight.

I grinned, drying my hands again before snatching up my phone to reply.

Wow, that sounds like a legit date!

Lol yeah obviously...wdym?

Our dates usually involve lots of booze and bangin 😜

🙄
You think I can't take you out to dinner without needing to fuck you?

😏 idk...can you?

Of course I fucking can. 😔

Shit, now I felt bad. Had I forgotten to mention to him that our dates were the best kind?