IaW Ch. 06: Embracing Veronica

She pushed her hips back into me. "Then you adding a third load...?"

"Fuck!"

"Was that all the KY just now? Are you taking sloppy thirds, again?"

"Yes!" So fucking close. "Whose dick do you love?"

"I love... whoever's dick is inside me!"

"Fuck, Gin!"

She was jamming her hips backward, riding my cock hard, bottoming my shaft deep inside her. "Fuck my slutty pussy! Give it the cum it needs!"

I pulled her hips to mine, bottoming out deep inside her. And I gave her the cum she needed.

###

Let's see: I'd worked out this morning, just had a healthy lunch, then kinky shower sex with my fiancée. Honestly, I could go to sleep now and it would've been a great day.

That actually sounded like a really good idea, especially given that I'd be getting less and less sleep over this last week of prep. Looking ahead, I'd get no sleep for the six weeks I was away on a gig. Kicking back would be nice.

Ginnifer, however, was still basking in the post-O glow and she was ready to be social.

She got dressed in a wispy outfit perfect for the warm-weather. Her hair was up, off her neck in a loose bun. Her top was a long-sleeved, cotton thing apparently called an "embroidered boho." It was loose with a deep V-neck and sheer enough to be wonderfully immodest.

Her pants were low-rise linen cargo capris, barely staying on by the grace of the top curve of her butt. There was a hint of that flat-tummy midriff between the pants and the top. She looked like she'd be right at home roaming the desert at Burning Man.

I got dressed in cargo shorts and a t-shirt and joined her as she unpacked the last of her moving boxes. A bit of cleaning and arranging and the place morphed into an eclectic mix of world culture and movie memorabilia.

With a woman's touch, my place - our place - was now "civilized."

I took a break, sitting on her sectional, while she zipped around like a mystical hummingbird of Feng Shui.

She stopped and glanced out the window. "They're rolling in kegs... two... three..."

"Trademark 'rager'," I nodded.

"Rager, huh?"

"A buck says you hear it from one of them."

"Deal."

Gin had met all three over the last month, but usually at a distance as we were headed in or out. She watched as they arranged chairs on the front patio area. "Chazz is the tall Indian guy, right?"

I nodded. "Born in Mumbai but raised in D.C. Blake is the Chinese guy, has family in Hong Kong but he's never been to China. Preston-"

"The grill master?"

"Yeah, you met him yesterday. He represents Massachusetts."

Her gaze was still peering between the window slats. "Captain Ascot..."

"Captain what?"

"He wears the little neckerchief thing."

"Right. They all do, but yeah, he started it. Well-placed irony, there."

"Not actually all that hoity-toity?"

"Living in a rented duplex with two roommates? No. He does come from money, but he and his family have mutually disowned each other. Now he does the whole Thurston Howell thing to mock his father."

"Oh. Wow. So, are fathers not a subject I should bring up?"

"Nah, just be prepared for him to talk your ear off. Heck, he'll appreciate your dad experiences."

She gave me a wide-eyed glance, a bit of genuine shock to her face. After a moment, she shook her head and went back to Martha Stewart mode, arranging the décor just so.

There was a knock at the back door and Ginny practically skipped through the living room and around through the laundry to answer.

The door was open, we hadn't turned on the air yet - and even around the corner, I heard an audible gasp.

"Holy shit!" That was Chazz' voice.

"And hello to you, too!" Gin bubbled.

I knew exactly what happened: he was expecting me, and saw the newish red-head in a shirt so sheer that he saw nipple.

"Uhh..."

"Hi! I'm a girl!"

Chazz broke down, laughing. "Yeah, clearly. Wonderfully. I'm Chazz, by the way."

"I remember! Ginnifer."

"Haven't forgotten. So, we're going to have a rager tonight and you two are invited."

"Pop-up tent, grill, coolers... Yeah. We kinda figured. We actually had an idea!"

"What?"

"We'll co-host! We'll open our half and be the quiet side for guests to escape the crush for a while. You know, some place where people can actually talk and all that."

"Really? That is so cool! Thank you!"

"You're welcome! Okay, that theme thing I've seen you guys do. Am I going to need an ascot?"

"No. You are absolutely perfect just the way you are."

"Thanks!"

Ginny passed by the couch a moment later. "I owe you a buck."

###

In the time we had, we took it a few steps further for the party. We set up mood lighting all over, put a psychedelic visualizer on the big screen and had some low trance playing through the house before the first guests arrived.

Front and back doors were open, with a "RAGE!" sign pointing to the neighbors and a "CHILL" sign pointing to our place.

This being SoCal, there was usually a race to see who could arrive the latest, but this was a college party hosted at a grown-up house with a low cover. The guests started streaming in early, and many brought their own boozy contributions. Beer was supplied next door, but our kitchen sink was filled with ice and became the wine garden. My contribution was plastic wine glasses and sharpies.

Preston manned the grill, complete with jacket, ascot and an actual white captain's hat. When I came out for my order, he had a spatula in one hand and was drinking his beer out of a plastic champagne flute in the other.

"Welcome aboard, Rick! I'm manning the galley today! Besides the redhead, what's your pleasure?"

I clinked my bottle with his flute and checked out the selection. "Is that sauerkraut?"

"Bavarian!" He nodded.

"Can't pass that up. Brat, please."

He served up the bratwurst on a kaiser roll, the kraut piled on it, and pointed me at a selection boutique mustards. The boys had gone all out for this party.

My mouth was full, but I had to ask before he got too busy. "You guys are above and beyond on this one. What's the occasion?"

"Summer is over. First bash of the semester, my good man."

"Got it..."

Some folk were snagging street parking, most were getting dropped off by Uber. The mid-August sun was setting, the tiki torches blazing and our little corner of the block was already getting packed.

I wandered into the neighbor's half and made small talk with people I'd never met. Their big screen wasn't a screen at all: it was the carefully painted wall with a projector on the ceiling showing the LA Rams in a Saturday pre-season game against the Seahawks. None of the starters were on the field, but football was football and part of the crowd was already glued to it.

The kitchen was a cornucopia of chips and dips and I hung out there a little too long, making up for the tofu lunch. They had classic rock piped in, coming down over satellite. It was hard to hear myself think with Back in Black competing with the play-by-play coming from the living room.

I didn't recognize a soul: this was all people from their campus. Most seemed like undergrads and I felt a little old. It was hard to say where it crossed into the MBA crowd, and I still averaged a year or two beyond them. They may have even suckered in some of the faculty - though their graying temples made me feel young again.

One girl tried the restroom door, found it locked, and turned around in a panic - running right into me. "Are there any more restrooms?"

I pointed up the stairs. "Top of the stairs."

She shook her head. "That's locked, too."

"Already?" I shrugged. "Next door is open. The Chill side. Laid out just like this place, but nicer. Try one of those."

"Thank you!"

She practically dashed out the back and I couldn't help but share a laugh with Blake and some other guy.

"When you gotta go..."

Blake stumbled a bit and braced himself on me.

Whoa. I set him on his feet. "Isn't it a little early for you?"

He looked up at me, shaking his head. "Dude... the legend of the parties is growing."

"Is it?"

"This was word-of-mouth through the business department, but apparently performing arts heard and they're invading!"

"Hm. Yeah. Bathroom girl looked more MFA than MBA."

"Right? Speaking of that, holy shit! Congratulations, dude!"

"Thanks!"

"Ginny an actress?"

"Looks like it, but no. Receptionist at a law firm."

"Fucking stunner, man!" Blake took a sip, nodding as he scanned the crowd. "Yeah, I wouldn't let her out of my sight."

"Do me a favor: if she wanders over to this side, keep an eye on her. She gets horny when she gets drunk."

"Does she have any favorites?"

"Appletinis and limoncello."

Blake pursed his lips. "I think I've got some pucker in the cabinet..."

"Nice."

Blake stumbled off one direction and I headed out back. Even the back shared patio area was already packed with people. There was music piped outside, but this was a smooth jazz station.

There was a science to it: outside, they made it calm. The music covered the madness of the people, and making it jazz soothed the vibe, lowering the testosterone. That dropped aggro from the neighbors, some of whom were mixing with the guests (charging their own neighbor tax).

I wandered back into my half and the place hadn't burned down yet. Good. Extremely dark in comparison to the neighbors', but I had to admit: our mood lighting was pretty cool.

The trance was still playing, almost a white-noise effect against the chaos next door, and three strangers were staring at the visualizer patterns on the big screen. That reminded me: Oh yeah, recreational is legal in California now...

Ginny was on the sectional, talking to the MFA-bathroom girl when I came by.

It was bathroom girl that looked up first. "Oh, hello! Hey, thanks for pointing this place out!"

"No probs."

"I'm Tina!"

"Rick."

"Gin," my fiancée introduced herself to me like were just meeting...

I shook my head and held up my bottle. "No, beer."

"Oooh, funny boy!"

I tilted to Ginny. "By the way, be careful: Blake is going to set you up with appletinis."

"Why, did you tell him I'm an easy drunk?"

"Something like that..."

Tina wagged a finger between us. "Do you two know each other?"

Gin got a wry smile. "We've met once or twice..."

"Oh!"

Gin made an air-circle. "You back?"

"I'm back. Your turn."

My fiancée kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear: "Have fun."

Not what I was expecting, but I was intrigued by the vibe. I settled into the couch and clinked glasses with Tina.

She held up her wine glass. "Tina!"

"Still Rick."

"Oh," she frowned at her wine glass. "I already introduced myself, didn't I?"

"You're all good."

Ginny had already disappeared and was probably having Preston grill a meatless burger for her...

I was completely ignoring the girl right next to me. I turned back to Tina and she was still staring at me like I should say something. Should I? Wasn't it her turn? This was weird.

It was harder to make out details in the dark, but she was definitely cute. Raven-black hair, a blouse with several button open and showing off what had to be enhanced cleavage.

I took a sip. "So, what do you do?"

"I'm an actress! Going for my BFA..."

BFA. Undergrad. "Oh, nice!"

###

People filtered in and out for the next two hours, including Ginny.

I probably would've circulated more, but Tina kept circling back.

By eleven that night, we had two couples making out on either end of the sectional, and drunk people wandering all over. Some wandered upstairs and I lost track if they ever came down. We'd set the cat up in the office and locked the door, but the guest and master bedroom were open if somebody was drunk enough that they just wanted to lay down... or whatever.

The Tina conversation circled around her acting gigs, most of which were straight-to-video roles: Cinemax After Dark. That made me wonder why she was bothering with a BFA, though I didn't know how to ask without sounding snide.

Not that it mattered, Tina volunteered: "I know it's kinda softcore anyway, but I want to be a good enough actress that I can still get roles even though I'm not eighteen anymore..."

Which was valid, wise and a little sad - especially since she couldn't have been any older than Ginnifer. "Good plan."

"Thanks!"

I still hadn't told her what I did, and probably wouldn't, but at least her epic boobs made sense now.

The actress pulled herself away, heading for the wine - and Ginny showed up a moment later.

My fiancée had a wicked grin as she flapped the neck-line of her boho. "Why didn't you tell me people can see through this?"

"Really?"

"Really!" she giggled.

"I don't think they can."

"Rick!"

I looked down the open V-neck and could practically see nipple anyway. "I am promoting the natural beauty..."

"Voyeur."

"Guilty."

Gin held up her empty plastic martini glass. "By the way, Blake can make a pretty good appletini."

"Trying to get you drunk?"

"Success!"

"Yeah, I told him you get horny when you get drunk."

Her eyes locked onto me. "Technically, true."

"But?"

"Technically true," she half-mumbled. She glanced toward the kitchen then gave me another looooong look. "How's Tina?"

"She's, uh..." I was trying to decode what Ginny was hinting at. "Nice?"

My own fiancée gave me a shrug. "Hey, you never know!"

Never know what? My brain just tripped over my dick. "Well, she is pretty and... she does have an exceptional rack."

Ginny held up her empty glass. "Even I would bury my face in those boobs."

Hard. I was, like, instantly hard. Hearing those words tumble from my fiancée, I wanted to have them engraved somewhere. "Would you?"

"Yes! I've always wanted to..." Gin danced toward the back door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to be drunker!"

My head was spinning and it had nothing to do with the beer.

Tina popped out of the bathroom just as the rear screen door closed. I might've been seeing things, but it looked like the actress had refreshed her lipstick. No, I was definitely seeing things: one more button was undone on that blouse: bottom cleavage was now visible as it slid into a satin bra.

A half-cup bra. It was more of a satin suggestion than a functional bra.

I wasn't sure what excited me more: the thought of burying my face in that cleavage, or watching Ginny do the same.

Tina made a beeline right back to me. "Hoo, all this wine! Is it hot in here or is it just me?"

"Definitely you. Very hot."

"Awww..." She smiled. "Thank you!"

"What I meant was... exactly that. Cinemax, right? What show was it?"

"Well, I'm not a star, but it is a recurring role..." She had locked eyes with me, searching for an answer without having to ask the question. She was getting closer and I sure wasn't backing up. "...but I don't often have a lot of lines..."

She was close enough for me to feel her breath.

I leaned, just a little bit, and she closed the distance. Her lips were soft and that first contact was electric.

A moment later, she was leaning against me, those epic tits pressed into my chest.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer - pulling her tits tighter against me.

It was one kiss after another; a short, a short, a long kiss, a look into each other's eyes... and another series of kisses as we traded breath.

Right there in the kitchen, the bass of the trance beat flowing through us, and I felt her heartbeat against my chest.

I took her face in my hand as we kissed and I could feel her breath getting shorter, getting quicker. Her lips were starting to nibble at mine, an urgency growing in her eyes.

And my brain hiccuped...

Ginnifer.

You know those times you ask a girl "what's wrong?" and she says something completely, face-value factual like "nothing" - and you know there's something wrong. Or you ask "how are you?" and she says "fine" and you realize you should only continue the conversation with the assistance of the Bomb Squad. So, would Ginny really bury her face in that cleavage or was she looking to defuse guilt over flirting with our neighbors?

It took a moment to focus back on the kiss Tina was lavishing on me. She was good.

And suddenly, Ginny was back in my head. Honestly, given the Veronica Count, the neighbor thing was probably an inevitability. Fuck. How did I feel about that? This morning, she'd asked me point-blank about a "reputation" - and I gave her a standing, implicit hall pass... was that here already?

I took a breath and realized I was staring at Big Tits... but thinking about a girl with much smaller tits. How does that work?

That's when an image of Ginny motorboating Tina flashed through my head.

"This has to happen."

"Uh-huh," Tina mumbled.

I took her chin in my hand again, raising her lips to mine. Her breath got shorter.

I brought my other hand to cradle her face, then let my fingers slip down her neck. My fingertips slid across her shoulders, then down her sides - catching her blouse.

The blouse fell open and the half-cup didn't disappoint. The satin was barely a shelf, revealing hardened nipples on luscious DDs.

We were in the dark, but in the open of my kitchen. People were coupled in the shadows, and there we were, the center ring. I hadn't been this hard since... well, since shower sex this morning.

With the gentlest fingertip heft, I lifted her breasts ever so carefully - and ran a thumb over those hardened nipples.

"You are beautiful."

Tina leaned into my touch - then suddenly glanced around. Boobs out, she quickly pulled me into the bathroom.

I closed the door behind us.

She sat on the toilet, desperately reaching for my pants.

My dick needed that touch but something in me paused. A heartbeat later, testosterone and alcohol surged through. This was about so much more than terrific tits - this was about Tina's tits. Any tits that didn't belong to my fiancée...

I pried my shaft out of my shorts and she took the tip into her mouth. She was good here, too, maybe better than Ginny... and she wasn't my fiancée. That was a jolt. For a heartbeat, I verged on going soft. Another heartbeat and I was twice as hard.

Tina seemed lost in the moment, focused on giving me a wet, sloppy blowjob.

I slid the blouse off her shoulders and she shrugged her way out of it. She even reached for the clasp on her bra, but I had her keep it on. The half-cup bra cradled the bottom of those magnificent globes, lifting them for me - and left the nipples on display as she sucked my cock.

That was an amazing show.

She must've known, but I gave fair warning: "Oh, god, I'm coming..."

She slowed down, becoming more deliberate, sucking hard - and I came in her mouth. Pulse after pulse, and it felt so much harder than just "coming."

This was a stress-O.

Or a de-stress O.

This was me coming with another woman after my fiancée had come with three other guys. Maybe more by now... and all these thoughts kept me from going soft.

I'd just blown my load into the actress's mouth and I was already building back up. I leaned back, against the sink, and found my center.

"Thank you! That was... amazing!"

She opened her mouth, showing off a mouthful of cum, before swallowing it and flashing a big grin. "You're a really nice guy. Can I call you?"

"Uhhh..."

"What's your number?"

I gave it to her, she put it in her phone and called me... When my pocket rang, she hung up and attached "Rick" to a new address book entry.

She reached for her shirt but she didn't put it on. "Listen, I'm going to call an Uber, but before I do... and I usually don't do this, but... no, I shouldn't..."

"What?" It took a moment to cram my still-hard rod back into my shorts.

"Do you think the owner would mind if we went upstairs?"

"I don't think we'd be the first..."