How gay- I mean how may I help you?

That's Fucked Up

Trick's apology ~~~~~ I think he deserves one.

I don't think I've ever seen Trick look actually sincerely hurt. The look on his face was a mixture of disgust and regret. 

"I- I, Trick." I breathed out, trying really fucking hard to come down from my high so I could think straight. (Haha yeet) It wasn't happening very fast.

He pulls his hand away from my and gets up to search for his shirt. I know I shouldn't be taking note of this but he's still hard and I feel even worse, "Jodi," I call out his real name, "I'm sorry, I really am." I start to stand up so I can continue to explain myself but it's hard to when he's put his hand up to stop me.

The whole time he hasn't looked at me and now he does, "Maybe you should leave?" When he looks at me I know he's covering up his emotion, he's trying not to flinch when I reach my hand out to him.

"I didn't mean to it's just-"

"You like him," he says sternly, "I understand. I know exactly how you feel." He looks away and kind of looks far off before turning back to me, "Go."

He curves around my body for the Vodka and slightly pushes me away, "Jodi," I say, heavy and under my breath. 

I reach out to him. I want to make him feel good- I need to make him feel good; even if I don't feel for him like I feel for Jasper, "You're so hot Jodi." I pull him against me and I hear his breath hitch, and he's already breathing heavily like he just ran up and down his stairs twice. 

I run my hands up his front and rub them back down to squeeze at his lean stomach, "You're so sexy. You deserve to feel good."

He closes his eyes against my voice and makes a face of resentment as he groans. I take the moment to lick over his lips openly before going to bite under his ear, "You deserve so much more than me." I huff in his ear, "We can't use each other. Who is it, who is it you want?"

I knew it wasn't me. He was using me to feel good, I can tell. I smack my hand to his hard on and palm him through his jeans. He whimpers and breaths raggedly, "Don't," he whispers.

I almost grin, "Your legs are shaking baby, are you sure you can stand this?" 

An almost shit eating grin runs across his face and I stick my hand down of the back of his pants to shut him up. He moans louder, "It's P-. It's Puff, I like Puff," he strains, whimpering at the name.

I take my hands away from him, "Cool, I'll call him."

The cloud of lust drains from Trick's eyes and he's serious again, "What? No. No! Are you serious?" He follows me out of the room, shirtless.

I pick up my phone and call Puff, telling Trick to shush as the phone rings, "Don't give it away that easily," I tease. 

Trick huffs and pouts. Soon Puff picks up, sounding as stoned as ever, "Yo," he coughs.

"Hey, Puff. I know we haven't talked in a while," I make my voice sound worry-some, "But Trick has a lot he needs to talk to you about and get off his chest."

Puff goes quiet for a minute before coming back on the line, "I'll be there soon."

Trick looks at me expectantly, "Well," he says, holding his dick like it hurts.

"I'd finish that before he gets here. Or, y'know, let him do it," I laugh at him.

"Y'know man you got a lot of fucking nerve getting me all hard and moaning some other guys name and then playing the shithead." He looks at me seriously.

Color drains from my face and I scratch the back of my neck. "I'm s-"

He breaks into his biggest grin and I punch him in the gut, "Asshat," I retort.