Candy Apple Red - Book Two

Chapter 6 - Our Dirty Little Secret

Over the next several days, Seth would pick me up at the stop sign down the road from my house. I told Momma that I was going for a walk so that it wouldn't raise suspicion. Once Seth brought me back to his place, we had sex on every counter surface, piece of furniture, and against the wall twice over. It was hot, sticky, sweaty, and dirty, all wrapped up in one, and I enjoyed every minute of it! The more sex we had, the more enjoyable it became, and I was beginning to grow more comfortable with my body and able to distinguish what was pleasurable and what wasn't. Despite seeing me in every unflattering position imaginable, Seth made me feel like I was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. He certainly had his way with me in more ways than one, and I couldn't have been happier.

Seth encouraged me to explore new ideas and fantasies since I was very naive in the ways of sex, so I looked to him to introduce to me all the "ins and outs."  Little did I know, he had plans for something outside of my comfort zone, "Hey, what do you say I claim that ass too?" he asked with an evil smirk spread across his face.

 "Ummm....I...I..." I stutter as I back away from him playfully, but I'm a ball of nerves at the moment. Oh, my God! Does he really want to put it up there? Won't it hurt?

He reaches out, grasping my wrists gently, attempting to comfort me, "Baby do you trust me?" he asks. 

I feel as if my mouth is made up of cotton. I swallow hard, "Yes, of course, I trust you." 

He pulls me into him while gazing down at me, "Listen to me, I want you to go and pick out a vibrator. I'd go with you, but we can't risk anyone seeing us together. I was hoping you could use it and get comfortable with it. Once you are comfortable, I want to try something on you." 

I'm intrigued by his request. I bet a vibrator will be fun, no doubt. Even still, no matter what I do, I am unable to refuse this man. He's like the cheese to my macaroni, and he knows it.  He leans in to plant a gentle kiss upon my lips, "Enough of the heavy talk. Just think about it, honey. That's all I ask. I would never force you to do anything you don't want to do." 

He glances at the clock on the wall behind me,  "We better get you back. Dylan will be headed over here soon to help me work on my bike."

Even though my mind is bogged down with questions, I pick my clothes off the floor and begin to get dressed before checking my appearance in the mirror. He watches me intently as he quickly pulls his pants on. Once we are both dressed, we climb into his truck and take off down the road, where he drops me off at the stop sign before kissing me goodbye. I can hear the sound of his truck engine taking off in the other direction as I begin jogging towards the house.   

After a few moments, I run up the steps to the front porch and barge inside; Momma is sitting at the kitchen table reading one of her romance novels as I trudge through the kitchen entrance. Panting, I stumble over to the refrigerator to pull out the bottled water; the glasses from the condiments clink together as I yank the door open. I'm burning up from running, and I desperately need something cold to drink. Momma clears her throat, eyes still glued to her book,  "How was your walk, Brie?" she asks. 

I quickly twist the cap to the plastic bottle and take a giant swig of my ice-cold water before answering, "Oh, it was good, just hot!" I manage to choke out. 

A smile crosses her face, but she doesn't utter a word; she continues reading. God, I hope she doesn't suspect anything. I attempt to shake off the unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach and finish up my water, then dispose of the bottle in the garbage before marching upstairs to take a shower.

Once I reach the hall bathroom, I flip on the lever to the shower, allowing it to get hot enough while I strip off my clothes, kicking them off to the side on the cold porcelain tile floor before brushing my teeth. I gaze at myself in the mirror as I move the brush in a clockwise motion, causing the toothpaste to foam and spill out of the corners of my mouth. I wonder if anyone suspects what we are up to?  Why am I so worried about what other people think? I don't want to be the town gossip. That would suck!