More Than Friends: A Night Out

Previous chapter: Lazy Afternoon

On Monday evening, I give my friend Joelle a cup of coffee. She smiles at me as I take a seat across from her in my apartment.

“I need advice.” I rub my sweaty palms against the worn fabric of the arm-chair I stole from my parents when I moved out.

“I knew something was up when you called me at lunch.”

Joelle is friends with Taylor. We have one of those cliché friend groups. I knew Joelle and Travis from college, Travis worked with Taylor who was dating Sherry. And we kept running into each other until we were a group. We used to have others, but we kind of solidified as five when Sherry left, and we bonded around Taylor’s loss. All of our loss. She was our best friend. She left us all.

I take a deep breath, “Okay. I have to tell you some things. Do not judge me.”

I tell her the story of my rent, and my second job, and Taylor.

“You’re fucking Taylor?” Joelle’s coffee sloshes over the edge of her cup. She shoves her finger in her mouth.

My eyes roll up. “Yes.”

“It makes sense. You were close with him after the breakup.”

We were. That was the part that didn’t make sense, in fact it was the exact opposite in my mind. Before he knew me as Cinnamon, we were best friends, but only friends. He was handsome, but there was no way he saw me more than the girl whose shoulder he cried on for months. I had a crush on him ever since we met. Who wouldn’t want Taylor? He is gorgeous.

“I dunno.”

“You’re both gorgeous.”

“Taylor is. I'm me.” Pudgy belly, out-of-control hair that is neither brown nor blonde, and a nose that is too big.

“You’re beautiful, Chloe. You have confidence that most women don’t have.”

I shrug and lean back in my chair, sip my coffee.

“So what’s the problem? You want a commitment and he’s not ready? Or he wants you to quit your cam work?”

“He wants to keep paying me for private shows. I don’t want my boyfriend paying me for sex. That’s too many lines crossed.”

Joelle nods, “Okay.”

“I don’t want to rely on him like that. He said ‘I don’t want your income to suffer because I accidentally found you.’ Like I can’t find someone else who will pay me.”

“I told you how hot you are.”

I’m on a rant now. “Money changes things. If you have the money, you have the power. I don’t want to rely on anyone for money.”

“So you’ll never get married to someone who makes more money than you?”

“I’ll always have my own source of money. I watched my aunt and my sister get screwed over in divorce by their husbands who made the money. Neither of them worked, they had kids young. Not doing it.”

My hands are shaking. I was in college when my sister divorced her husband. I was three months away from my secretary diploma, the same training my sister had. Only my sister got married about six months into her first post-diploma job, and when she got pregnant a few months later, she stopped working. Her husband had a good job. She didn’t need more.

“When you put it that way, I’m reconsidering my plan to be a trophy wife.” Joelle stares into her mug. Her words could be a joke, but she’s serious.

“You wouldn’t be a trophy wife, you love your job.”

“I do, but I thought when I married and had kids, I’d stay home,” She looks bleak and I switch from needing comfort to advice giver.

“Save as much as you can now. Just have a back up plan. Work part-time or something.”

“Geez, I never thought of it.” She drinks from her mug.

“Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Maybe you saved me from a world of pain. How is your sister now?”

“Custody is a struggle, her kid was like two when they split. But she’s working again, remarried, has another kid with guy number two. He has one from another relationship.” I wave my hand. “It’s way more complicated than my life.”

“Perspective, hey?”

I sit up straighter. “So, I’m not wrong?”

“Nope, you are not, but does he know about your sister?”

I didn’t even make the connection until a minute ago. “No. He doesn’t. Do you think he’ll stop trying to white knight me if I do?”

“Taylor? Maybe. I’m as close to him as you and he are.”

Our eyes snap together like Lego. Really? I raise my eyebrow.

She holds her hands up. “Okay not that close. As close as you and I are. You think Trav and Cam would want to watch if they knew your dirty little secret?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Ew, I can’t imagine them or anyone else I know watching.”

“But you like Taylor watching.”

“I didn’t know it was him until Friday. It’s Taylor though. If you told me you didn’t have a crush on him, I’d be surprised.”

“Taylor? So not my type. He’s got the whole goody-goody vibe. I need a bad boy, motorcycle, leather jacket, long hair, tattoos. Something more than never late for anything. That’s all you, Chloe. Do you use Chloe on the website?”

“No. My cam name is Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon. It suits you so much.” She smiles over the rim of her mug, “You and Taylor have a bad streak I’d never have guessed. It’s like finding out your parents had a secret rebel past. You two are the mom and dad of our group. Even when Sherry was around.”

Sherry, we rarely talk about Sherry, she’s like she-who-shall-not-be-named. Sometimes someone will tell a story that involves her, and when it gets to the part her name comes up, they either skip it or just change the subject. It’s an unwritten rule. At least if Taylor is around. He was so devastated after she left. Hard to blame him since they were months away from marriage. No one knows why she left. If she gave Taylor a reason, he never spoke of it.

His pain is my pain.

“I’m sorry, that’s painful for you. Not that long ago.”

“I feel so bad for him, you know. They were about to be married.”

“I mean because you were so close with her.”

Sherry was my best friend. Taylor and I filled that void for each other. Never saw that before.

“I know I'm not a great replacement for her, but I hope I'm doing okay as a friend.”

I throw a smile at her. “You are great. Sherry was like my big sister, older, confident. Don’t replace her, just be you. I’ve known you way longer, anyway. The number of times you held my hair while I puked in some frat house. Thank you for never leaving me alone. That qualifies you for best friend status.”

“We did it for each other. We’re lucky the shit we did that we never got in more trouble. Good times.”

“A lot of good times. I love you, Jo. We need to hang out more.”

“Only if you can fit me in between your two jobs and now your lover.”

"I’ll find time, Jo. Tell me about your life. Distract me.”

I had coffee with Joelle on Monday evening, Tuesday I had a couple private shows, and Wednesday I had nothing. I planned to call Taylor so I could explain my reaction. Hopefully he’ll understand and be more agreeable. Travis texted me before I finished crafting the perfect message. Cam got a promotion, and there were to be celebratory drinks at our favorite bar.

I get there five minutes before the appointed time. As I reach the door, I hear my name. I turn and there’s Taylor. Joelle’s words echo in my head. Always-on-time Taylor. We are alike, we are the mom and dad of the group.

I stop and turn. He slows to a walk when my arms cross over my chest. I lean against the building, trying to look casual as I watch him approach. My heart does a gymnastics routine, clumsy like I was as a child trying to figure out how to look like the girls on the Olympic team.

My insides ache with want to reach out, touch him, feel him, breathe him. I want everything Taylor. I want to throw myself at him, and apologize for my clumsy handling of our differences. Why do I feel so strongly for him? It’s Taylor, we’ve known each other for years and I never needed him...

Instead, I smile while I dig at the sidewalk with the toe of my boot.

“Hello,” I say. I don’t blurt out I love you, or I’m sorry, or I screwed up, or even we need to talk. I’ll get to that later.

He kisses my cheek. “Hello beautiful. How are you?” He takes my hand.

I want to pull away, unsure where we stand. “I’m okay. You?”

“Fine. Nothing new.”

“We never talked about the… the uh, group.” I point behind with my thumb. “Are we telling them?”

“Do you think we can hide it?” His thumb rubs across my palm. How does that feel so fucking good? Because it’s Taylor.

I imagine wrenching my hand away. I don’t want to share our relationship, but I can’t pull back. His eyes meet mine.

“I told Joelle. I needed someone to talk to and she helped me figure out things. We need to talk.”

“That sounds bad.” He pulls back, his fingers slipping away from my palm.

I jump forward. “No. I need to explain.” No apologies. I won’t apologize for my feelings and needs. “There’s a history.”

He nods, “Okay. We can talk. Tomorrow night maybe?”

“I have a show. Friday?”

“Work drinks. You could be my plus one and we can leave early as possible?”

His date in public? It’s work, but still. Yay. I nod calmly. “Sure. I’ll be your plus one.”

He kisses my cheek again. “Okay. I guess we’ll be hands off tonight. We can manage it as long as Joelle told no one.”

“I swore her to secrecy, and she’s good for that. We went to college together and she’s seen sides of me you’d never guess.”

“You know I will get her drunk some night and get those stories.”

“I’ll tell you some other time.” Some things are better left as memories. “Should we go in?”

“Is anyone else here?”

I bark out a laugh, “Hell no. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, no one ever gets here before us.”

“I never noticed,” He smiles at me and I’m lost in his dark eyes.

I jerk away from the building, “Let’s grab a table. I didn’t notice either until Joelle pointed it out to me.”

“I’m glad you had someone to talk to.”

“And you, who do you talk to?”

“A guy at my job,” He holds the door open for me.

I touch his arm as I pass, and once he follows me, his hand is on my lower back. Oh yeah, we totally got this undercover.

“You look nice.”

I dressed for him. I dressed as Cinnamon. Shorter skirt than Chloe would dare to wear in public. A push up bra maximizes my cleavage, and I had an ample amount to start with. My top has a plunging v-neck. I’ve owned it for years, but never dared to wear it. But Cinnamon dares.

“Just nice?” I raise my eyebrows.

“You look like Cinnamon.”

“She dressed for TJ.”

His eyes widen, his throat bobs, his mouth opens and closes. He’s about to say something when the waitress arrives.

“Drinks?” she asks, with a smile. Her eyes bounce between him and I. She’s pretty and young, and I wonder if I wasn’t here, if Taylor would flirt with her. Pre-Cinnamon Taylor would have, and I want him to if it feels normal. I want us to be normal.

He’s staring at me when I look back at him.

“Do you want a drink?” I poke him with my gaze.

He snaps to the waitress. “Oh, sure. Beer.”

“Vodka cranberry,” I say. “We have three more coming.” I wave at the empty chairs.

“Four, Travis is bringing a date,” Taylor says.

The waitress leaves and I lean toward Taylor. “A date? Travis?”

“He’s been seeing this woman, and I guess it’s serious enough he wants to bring her out with us.”

“I had no idea. I guess I’ve been busy being Cinnamon for the past couple months.”

Travis and his date, a pretty, thin blonde arrive. Totally Travis’s type. Joelle arrives moments after them, and joins after she hits the bar. She has a round of shots, and she does one immediately before passing the rest around.

“I had a rough day,” she says.

Cam arrives last. “Sorry I’m late. With my new position, I have more responsibility.” He doesn’t seem upset by it, actually he looks proud.

Joelle pushes his shot in front of him. “Here drink up. I got first round.”

He shrugs and downs the drink.

Travis and his date, Lani, do their best not to look like they want to be alone. Their eyes are obviously for each other. She’s nice, so maybe we’ll be a group of six again.

Taylor sits at the end of the table, around the corner from me. And he won’t stop looking at me. I don’t know if anyone else notices, because I can’t stop looking at him either.

He can’t stop touching me either, casual touches as we talk. His fingers brush the back of my hand, or he pats my arm as he talks to me. I want him. Now.

I excuse myself, and from the back of the bar I text him to get back here. I stay hidden behind a group of people until I see him. He’s looking around from me and I glance at the table. Travis is looking at Taylor until Joelle distracts him with a question.

I grab Taylor's arm. “Hey, what’s—”

I shake my head to cut him off. I pull him down the hallway into the bathroom and lock the door. Inside the bathroom, I check the stalls just in case, my hand still holding his.

“Chloe, what’s going on?”

I run my hand through his hair and plaster my body against his.

“This.” I kiss him, my tongue sloppy in his mouth. I’m buzzed and my inhibitions dropped just enough to make this seem like a good idea.

Taylor puts his hands on my shoulders, holding me steady.

“I was hoping to take you home tonight.”

I shake my head and kiss him again. He doesn’t kiss me back. I take his hand and cover my breast with it. He takes the hint, and kisses me back finally. He teases my nipple through my outfit. His mouth moves hot on my neck, sucking, licking, nipping.

“I couldn’t go another minute with you looking at me, touching me, but not touching where I wanted.”

His hands gather my skirt and pull it up around my waist. One hand presses between my legs, dragging over the lace of my panties. “I meant to keep my hands off you. I’m worse than Travis. Pretty sure everyone at that table knows we are fucking. I couldn’t stop myself. I’d pull my hand away and you’d look at me and I was lost.”

“You’re slow, TJ. I was lost when we met outside the bar.” I stretch on my toes and kiss him again, shoving my tongue into his mouth, tying his in knots. My hand wraps around his cock through his pants.

He peels our mouths apart. “We can make an excuse and leave.”

I undo his belt. “Or you can fuck me here.” I open his pants and slide my hand inside. “I’ll drop to my knees and suck you off.”

“Not in a public bathroom.” But he slides his fingers under the crotch of my panties, across my slick lips, and inside, stroking my desire.

He pulls out and paints my lips with it. My tongue darts out and flicks against his digits. He finger fucks me again, then feeds me my desire. He licks it from the inside of my mouth.

“Slutty Cinnamon, getting off on herself.”

When he dips into my panties this time, it’s teasing my clit. He knows exactly the right spot, how much pressure to apply, and the rhythm of my body. With the crook of his finger, he can bring me to my knees, make me moan. God damn, I grip his shoulders, he can make me come. He covers my mouth to smother my wail of bliss.

“Fuck, Taylor, you’re good. But I haven’t had an orgasm since Sunday either, so maybe I’m an easy conquest.”

“You had private shows last night.”

“I faked everything. Even had to fantasize about you to get wet.” While I talk my hands work on his pants, freeing his cock. “I think if I sit on the sink I’ll be the right height.” I work my panties off my legs while looking up at him.

He walks me backwards to the wall and lifts me up. He wraps my legs around my waist as he slides home.

“Squeeze me with your legs a little and lean against the wall.”

I do as he instructs and the thrusts against me. This was more than I hoped for, but he’s fucking me. I’ve had sex before. I’ve had casual sex and committed relationship sex. I haven’t had a boyfriend in the past eight months, and the last four months have been sexless. I’ve had good sex; I’ve had kinky sex; I’ve had bad sex; I’ve had indifferent sex.

Sex with Taylor differs from anything I've done with anyone. He knows me, he gets me, he loves me. And I love him. I want to shout it out, but he’s kissing me. He halts and stares at me, there’s a glint in his eye. I lower my feet to the floor, not daring to breathe.

“Go to the sink, put your hands on the counter, and look in the mirror.” Dominant Taylor, TJ, CallMeSir is here.

I cross the room and lean against the sink. The air in this room is cooler than my body and it seems to caress my exposed skin.

He stands behind me and grabs my hair.

“Look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

I look at myself, but not myself. My lipstick is smudged, my lips are bruised, and my cheeks are scratched from his stubble. He pushes me down a little, so my back is arched, I can look down my shirt.

“I see Cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon. The slut, the one who sells herself. The one who wants a quick fuck in the bathroom at the bar.”

I say nothing, I stare myself in the mirror. When I don’t answer, he tightens the grip on my hair.

“Say it Chloe. Tell me you’re a slut.” His voice is tight, demanding. Not my sweet Taylor, but my Dominant.

“I'm a slut.”

“Whose slut?” Her jerks my head.

“Yours.”

He rubs his cock against my flooded pussy. “Being called a slut makes you soaked does it?”

“Yes Sir.”

He shoves into me. I tense my arms in time to keep from hitting the edge of the counter. He grabs my shirt and pulls it down, then he pulls my breasts free of my bra.

“You like being a slut, so I’ll treat you like a slut. If it wasn’t our friends out there, I’d walk you through the bar with your skirt around your waist, your soaked panties on display. Let the first guy who offers to buy me a drink a quick grope of you. Something for his spank bank.” Taylor’s fingers pinch my nipples as he thrusts slowly. “Or maybe he already pays to watch you be a slut.”

“Oh god,” I arch my back, thrusting against him.

“Not God. Just the guy who owns you. You like being owned, don’t you?”

I nod. Our eyes meet in the mirror and his are hard. Verbal answer required. “Yes, I like being owned by you.”

He grabs my hips and fucks me. It arouses me, but I can’t quite get there. He can sense it, and presses his finger to my clit, circling the nub until we are both shaking.

Someone knocks on the door and I hurry to dress. He doesn’t move any faster. We return to the table, amid stares. No one says anything, and I shrug at Joelle’s wide eyes. I’ll explain later.

An hour later, the party breaks up. I pull out my phone to call a cab, but Taylor’s hand is on my arm. He shakes his head. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“A ride and nothing else. We’ll talk Friday night. Or Saturday morning.”

“Don’t you recall I own you. You’ll do whatever I want,” he hisses in my ear. He grabs my arm and propels me out the door and around the corner to his car. He pushes me against the side and kisses me hard. I’m not sure if this is Dominance or anger? Or if there is a difference. It’s all too new and too fast. I want to demand pause, but Cinnamon is enjoying it way too much. She wants to be owned. She wants him to demand sex, then spread her legs.

He parks at my apartment and pulls me into a bruising kiss.

“I want to explain.”

“Not tonight. Tonight you are Cinnamon and I am TJ, and tonight I own your slutty ass.” He squeezes my thigh hard enough so I wince. “Chloe and Taylor will talk later, and you can explain your disrespect then. Until then.” His fingers tighten until I'm certain there will be bruises I will cherish.

“Of course, Sir. What do you want then?”

He pulls out his wallet and looks inside. He pulls out a couple of bills, twenties and drops them in my lap. “I want you to accept that, and I want a private cam show tomorrow after your weekly chat. I’ll be on video this time, I’ll instruct you. And I’ll pay.”

I want to argue. Cinnamon nods. “Okay, one night only. And Friday night I will explain my position on our money and our relationship. Or Saturday morning depending how late we are out.”

“We’ll sleep at my apartment,” he decides.

“I need to come home early Saturday to check on Pussy.”

“We’ll check on Pussy. Both of them.” He kisses me softly, but his hand rubs between my legs. I stiffen a little, he will get me going again, and I’ll have to take care of it myself, which isn’t nearly as satisfying as when he fucks me.

He opens his door and comes around to open mine. He puts his hand on the small of my back, and walks me to my apartment. We kiss for a moment, then he brushes my cheek. “I’ll see you on the show tomorrow, and then you’ll give me my private show to make up for not talking to me for a couple of days.”

“I said yes.” Making me agree repeatedly is provoking my anger. I said yes, and I don’t want to keep saying it. It’s making me question my choices. I kiss him, uncertain of my decision. I shove open the door to my apartment.

He leans against the far wall until I close the door. I watch him through the peephole as he walks away, back down the hall, and back to his apartment.

I need a shower, and to drink water to counteract the dehydration effects of the alcohol. I didn’t get drunk, just buzzed enough to fuck TJ in a bathroom. My phone beeps as I head for my bedroom.

Joelle is sending messages, demanding to know where we disappeared to.

Joelle: EVERYONE KNOWS

Chloe: I know, but I couldn’t keep from touching him one more minute. Plus, sex in a public place is really hot.

Joelle: How hot?

Chloe: I did not tell you this Monday, but Taylor is Dominant. He likes ordering me around, hurting me.

Joelle: Does he have a pain room?

Chloe: No, just his bedroom. It’s not like a romance book. It’s Taylor. He called me a slut and fucked me against the wall.

Joelle: That sounds hot. Okay, well the guys know, and I pretended I had no idea, but I don’t think they bought it, so congrats. I think Cam was seriously jealous. It barely made Travis look up, I think he was jealous he couldn’t fuck Lani in the bathroom.

Chloe: Yeah well. I need to have a shower.

Joelle: Call me tomorrow.

Chloe: I have work after work.

Joelle: Will you tell me where your show is so I can watch?

Chloe: No. Good night Jo.

She sent a pouty face emoji and said Good night. If I thought she wanted to watch, I would send her the link, but I don’t think she wants to watch. She wants to tease me.

I grabbed my waterproof vibrator and took it with me to the shower, so I could get off once more. Twice with Taylor was good, but the Domination in the car aroused me again.