erotica

Big Juicy Peach

Big Juicy Peach Cover

Big Juicy Peach

A BBW erotic novella with curves, seduction, betrayal, and murder

By, Venus Wille

Copyright 2018 Venus Wille

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

 

Chapter 1: The Teaches of Peaches

 

My phone started playing The Teaches of Peaches. “Oh goodie, a text from Reina!” I sang with glee.

“Peach, I need to tell you something…” the text said.

“Uh-oh,” I wrote back playfully and attached a gif with the Joker saying “Why so serious?”

“I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this…”

“Wait…… tell me………….. What????” I typed.

“I think Devon might be cheating on you.”

I stood up abruptly from the armchair I had cozied up into and the blood rushed from my head. I thought I might faint and wobbled down to the floor on my ample, round rump. My phone had slid across the room and I could see a new spiderweb crack on the screen. Not wanting to risk another fall, I crawled over to get the phone, my belly and breasts swaying gently as I did, and called Reina to get the deets.

 

Six hours later, donning a blue satin evening gown with long black satin gloves and rhinestone-encrusted Cinderella shoes, and my custom-made tiara that Reina returned to me that evening, I got out of the car. I winced ever so slightly as the right side of my generous rump throbbed in pain from the day’s earlier fall.

 

“You ok?” Devon asked me innocently with what, I figured, had to be his expertly feigned concern… typical.

 

“Oh, fine, just… remembered a deadline.” I said flatly. Then, a little too enthusiastically, I added, “you know how it goes!” I wasn’t ready to have it out with him but under the surface my blood boiled.

 

“Yeah… sure do…” Devon seemed unsatisfied by my answer but it seemed that he didn’t want to get into it, either.

 

I saw him in a new light. He was always breezy and casual. He was a very handsome man, no one could deny it, but he wasn’t as successful in the industry as I had become. Handsome faces, it turns out, are a dime a dozen in this town. Maybe that’s why he worked so hard to keep me happy.

 

 

Chapter 2: A Good Cocking

 

I finally sucked it up a few weeks ago and bagged up the laundry piled in our guestroom that had been accumulating for 3 months. Somewhere in the middle of the pile, in the pocket of some of the bespoke pants that I had made for him, the ones that flattered his cock so nicely, I found a lacy thong that was much too small to be mine. I ventured a quick sniff- test… there was definitely something womanly and sexy going on with that very small thong. Based on my calculations and the location in the pile, I estimated that this thong slip-up took place about a month and a half ago. But… I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and push this incident out of my mind because… in basically every other way… he was really the perfect man. He was sexually attentive. He gave me massages and foot rubs, brought me flowers, seemed to love the taste of vagina and even anus, which I had never encountered in a man before! He cooked. He cleaned (except for laundry, unfortunately for him). But… I had been basically supporting him for the past 6 months. “Then again, wasn’t he really supporting me?” I often rationalized.

 

In the 6 months that he had been living with me, he had given me a total of 1 gift that wasn’t flowers. Not that I necessarily wanted to be showered with gifts and… until he was employed again… I didn’t really want him spending my money on gifts that he bought for me. The gift he got me was kind of a joke. My LA townhome had a fireplace, which was kind of ridiculous because they were basically never allowed to burn anything in the city because of the air pollution and, even if she was allowed to add smoke to the smog, it was never cold enough. We spent a November weekend in a Colorado Cabin on Air BnB to celebrate the 4 month anniversary of our first date. Kind of a random anniversary to celebrate but I had a short break between writing projects. The second night we were there, the temperature dropped, wind howled, and it snowed sideways. The quaint cabin was less than cozy and I decided that I wanted to build a fire in the fireplace. Devon told me that he’d be happy to do it but I told him that, by god, I was going to DO THIS and if he so much as lifted a finger I was going to kill him.

 

“Ok, ok, you can do it,” he laughed. “I’ll go do the manly thing and make our dinner while you work on that.”

 

I was, to be honest, in over my head. I did girl scouts for about 1 hot minute but never learned to build a fire. The cabin was so rustic that it had no wifi and my phone signal was bad. I didn’t know anything about the flue, how to open it, or why you’d want to do such a thing. I just stuck a gigantic log in the fireplace and held a lighter up to it, expecting it to catch.

 

At this point, wind whistled into the windows that were in need of a good caulking. I needed it to get warm in there so that I could get naked with this beautiful man, I needed a good cocking myself. I finally gave up, promised not to murder him in his sleep, and asked for help. “Good,” he told me, “your sailor’s cursing is making me blush.” He took the axe down from over the mantel that I had assumed was just decoration, grabbed the smallest, jankiest looking  dried out raggedy old log, in my opinion, and went outside to split the it into kindling. I watched from the window, wrapped in an electric blanket. Seeing him work that way with his hands really made me hot for him.

 

“Who knew you need an axe to build a fire?” I asked, giddily, after the fire was roaring and I was warmed my hands and feet by the flames.

 

“Who knew?” Devon said.

 

“You, sir, have earned a prize,” I announced as I slipped from the couch onto my knees on the floor. I reached over to his zipper and freed his already hot, erect penis. I cupped his balls gently with one hand and firmly held the base of his shaft with the other, like it was a tight little twat. My mouth went up and down on his hard dick with the hand, previously at the base, below my lips as I went up and down, up and down, up and down. I almost gagged a few times because his dick went all the way into the back of my throat. I held it together by clenching my kegel muscles and imagining that generous dick deep inside my vagina, smooshing my g-spot with each stroke. I gently massaged his balls and felt them contract when he came into my mouth in a blast of salty cum. My back was warm from the fire so I climbed in top of him, cowgirl-style and let him lie there, recovering as I grinded in him while squeezing my nipples with each hand. When he had recovered from his orgasm a few minutes later, he plunged himself deep inside me and that g-spot smooshing that I had fantasized about earlier turned me euphoric.

 

Later I told him, jokingly, “It was knowing to use the axe that earned you the BJ. Just thought you should know.”

 

“Noted!” he answered.

 

A week after our trip, he presented me with a long gifwrapped package, oddly heavy at one end. It was a small pink camping hatchet in with little purple flowers on the handle.

 

“To be honest,” he said with a wry grin, “I was hoping to get another blowjob out of this.”

 

“Oh you will,” I answered, “but don’t think that this lets you off the hook from your domestic servant slash sex slave role.”

 

“I wouldn’t think of it, m’lady.” That time, for the grand finale, I pushed my firm breasts together around his cock. My nipples were so hard you could have cut glass with them. He thrust to completion and came all over my tits. He leaned over, spread the cum all around my tits and sucked hard on my nipples, alternating from side to side.

 

After our lovemaking later that night, he hung the axe decoratively over the fireplace, where it has stayed ever since.

 

I thought of this time often and wondered if it bothered him, or maybe even threatened his manhood, to be called a domestic servant. There is nothing wrong with a domestic man, the dynamic seemed to work for us and his support helped launch my writing career even further than I thought possible. I led her own team of dedicated writers on 3 projects in the past year and another one with complete creative freedom lined up to start next month. Despite the support… I was a little anxious about his unemployment. It seemed that he had been unemployed the whole time we’d known each other- could that be right? Still, there were so many reasons that I did not want to let this lapse get in the way of what they had. I pushed it to the back of my mind and only thought of it sometimes, late at night when I was in one of my flirty, silky nightgowns in bed with him sleeping peacefully and innocently next to me. Some of those nights, he woke and ended my worrying with a caress from my neck, slipped under the soft, smooth fabric, down to my freshly alert nipple, which he gave a frisky tweak. He then followed this with a skilled hand between my thighs, slowly working his way up to the hood of my vulva, where my clit throbbed in anticipation. At that point it took just the lightest brush of contact to make me moan in ecstasy. Then, he lifted my hips like they were made of air and penetrated my awakened vagina from behind with his enormous, pulsing cock.

 

Any woman could understand why I might be living in denial to maintain perks like these.

 

 

Chapter 3 : An Oddly Vulva-Shaped Package

 

Since that text from Reina, I oscillated between disgust for myself and rage towards him. I should have known that he would be exactly what I expected when I first laid eyes on him. I fell for this tall man with arresting dark eyes and salt and pepper hair. I didn’t believe my luck when he had asked me out once and then again and again and again. From the very beginning he always loved my soft, voluptuous body, my full, heavy breasts, my sexy, fleshy hips, my big belly that I had been ashamed of for so long, my big, round behind. He had helped me love my own body. I did not want to give him up. But it just wasn’t right.

 

Well, I knew what I was going to do. My heart raced. In my blue satin dress, my nipples stood at attention at the thought of my revenge. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, to practice one more time and give myself a pep talk in the mirror.

 

There are always gift bags at these things. Usually they pass them out at the end of the event, but this time, for some reason, they distributed the gifts as we walked in the door. I opened the large, oddly vulva-shaped package in the bag and, to my surprise, inside was a hot pink vibrator with ribbing and a little clit stimulator at the base.

 

“Well, hello there…” I thought to herself. “Maybe this will help me release some… tension…” I had never seen this kind of vibrator before. I twisted the shaft and felt the handheld wireless device gently heat and then start to move. It was vibrating and thrusting simultaneously.  I quickly shimmied my mermaid skirt up, over her soft, dimpled thighs. I moved so fast that I heard a quick little ripping sound. “Damn.” I thought.

 

I tucked the bottom of the skirt between my large breasts. I hadn’t noticed before how the satin felt against my bare nipples, suddenly so sensitive and now visible through several layers of sleek fabric. Between my legs I felt warm and slippery and, just… delicious.

 

I looked into the mirror, gazing into the dark green eyes of the large, accomplished and coiffed woman in her sexual prime in front of me. With my thick, glossy brown hair swept into a french twist, the smooth slope of my neck looked… tasty. I could see why Devon always nestled into it with his lips, sucking and caressing as he gently cupped a breast. As I slipped the warm, pulsing vibrator in between my wet vaginal lips with one hand, I firmly planted the other hand on the countertop, my back arched, bracing myself.

 

Suddenly my phone, sitting on the counter, spider-web cracked screen-up, buzzed urgently. Devon had sent me a 911 message. The show was about to start. “Fuck. I guess this will have to wait,” I thought.

 

Without even thinking about it, I quickly ran the wet vibrator with my scent between my breasts, something I had never tried before, and then washed it in the sink, shimmied the mermaid skirt back down, packed up my gift bag,  and took a quick once-over in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed and I felt the blood still rushing to my engorged vulva. I quickly left the bathroom. Too preoccupied with the public shaming I had planned for Devon, I had forgotten about the ripping sound a few minutes earlier, and so forgot to check for where it was and if it was noticeable. Only later did I find out that there was a palm-sized heart-shaped hole in back, showing off the  top of my buttcrack.

 

I was already late but I was going to need a shot for that night. The bartender’s strawberry blond hair and sad brown eyes reminded me of an innocent crush from my teen years, a boy I was too shy, at the time, to ever approach. Just a fantasy man for late lonely nights with only my hands and my imagination to keep me company. That was long before my first date, let alone my first vibrator.

 

“I’ll take a double shot of Johnny Walker, please,” I said to the sexy young man. He gaped briefly at my cleavage and, leaning in ever so slightly, lingered in a long inhalation with a slight, almost unconscious, smile on his face. “Oh my gawd,” I realized, “he’s inhaling the scent of my pussy.” He quickly snapped out of the brief trance and recovered his professional air. “Yes, of course. On the rocks?” he asked.

 

I decided to fuck with him. “Oh yeah, just like that…” I said in my lowest, most sultry voice with a wink. He blushed 3 shades of crimson and, I gotta be honest, I felt a thrilling rush of power.

 

When I reached our table, I’m pretty sure that Devon noticed the scent of whiskey on my breath. He probably attributed my drinking to nerves- if so, he was correct, but not for the correct reasons.

 

I didn’t hear much leading up to my name, it was all just a dull roar, drowned out by the pounding of the blood in my ears. “Am I really going to do this??” I wondered.

 

“Peach McKinley…” the announcer said. They didn’t really have a spotlight for the event, it was just cameras, but I knew that they were all panning to me so I put on my spotlight face, stood, and walked to the stage.

 

“First,” I started off, “I would like to thank my boyfriend, Devon, who has always made me feel supported. He cooks and cleans, ladies and gentlemen. He gives massages, and really makes up for the fact that I have been supporting him financially for quite some time now.” I noticed when watching the rerun later that, at that point, the host jerked his head to look blankly at the side of my face as I went on,

 

“He is also very skilled, mmmm… manually, if you catch my drift. For these reasons, ladies and gentlemen, it saddens me to announce that we will no longer be a Hollywood *it* couple.  Today I found out that he’s been moonlighting with those manual skills, and as we have not discussed polyamory in any way shape or form, this is dishonesty, and I am too amazing to go on supporting an unfaithful liar.” Music keyed up and  drowned me out, I had more to say but I’m secretly grateful that they cut me off and escorted me backstage and away from the cameras.

 

 

Chapter 4: “Melody” Or Something

 

In the week that followed our very public break-up, there were copycat outings of male infidelity and other public breakups. I got props from those who had been burned by cheaters themselves and criticism from others. I even got a thinly-veiled, very believable death threat on twitter but the person was immediately identified and arrested so… I wasn’t too worried.

 

In fact, I was feeling elated, vindicated, recognized. It was a new angle on the #metoo movement. I felt like a powerful woman.

 

After that first week, though, the insomnia started creeping back. Devon left me several messages every day, alternating between sad and pathetic, telling me that he could explain everything if I just gave him a chance, to barely controlled anger, saying that I ruined his life and publicly humiliated him. I must have gotten a prepaid cell phone at the grocery store because I had cut off his service. I wondered where he was sleeping at night, probably at the willowy blond’s place. “Melody” or something.

 

He started harassing me about getting his stuff but I told him that I wasn’t going through it and he wasn’t getting it any time soon.

 

Despite the satisfaction in my public revenge, I found myself up more and more each night, feeling increasingly anxious, my muscles tense all night long in bed and sore and tired all day as I worked. My writing ideas were not flowing like they had been for so long.

 

When in doubt, I replayed the evidence that Reina laid out before me that day of the awards ceremony.

 

Reina had stopped by earlier that day to drop off a backpack of mine that I left at her house the prior weekend. Reina saw a rusty old blue subaru parked across the street. She had started seeing that subaru in the area more when she stopped by. Maybe it was a new neighbor who moved in? Seemed unlikely… the car was not a fit for the neighborhood. Come to think of it, she had seen a woman in the car a few times, fiddling around on her phone. The woman in the car had elegant bone structure, short blond hair, graceful lines. Reina probably wanted to meet this woman and fuck her brains out. That’s typical Reina.

 

Anway, Reina told me that she had brushed off thought of the blue subie and rang the bell. The front door at my townhome has a tall, narrow rectangular window next to it and from that window you could see about half of the place without even trying, my writing office to the left of the front door, the open kitchen to the right of the office, the hall that led to the bedrooms, and on the right side, the vaulted-ceiling living room. She joked to me every chance she got, “it’s like your townhome has her legs wide open to anyone who wants a peep show!” I always rolled my eyes and said in my best Rupaul, “Gurrr, you nasty,” but I admit that I should have gotten a treatment for that window a long time ago…. Like the week I moved in.

 

So, Reina could tell that Devon was home- she could hear a man’s voice coming from inside, muffled but unmistakably Devon. She thought she heard him say the name “Melody.” Then she heard another voice, a woman who sounded nothing like me. Reina had always been suspicious of Devon from the first time they met. I always wondered if it was because he flirted relentlessly with me when most men were drawn to Reina. Though Reina was not remotely interested in men, they liked her. A lot. She had a petite, athletic build with thick legs that she liked to show off in tight short shorts. She had perky little tits and I have heard men and women wax poetic about, and her ass was… well… fucking amazing and seemed to defy gravity. She was my besty for all of the other reasons that someone is a besty, but I could admit that she was very sexy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a smart, successful writer in a competitive and glamourous industry. But men don’t typically drool over me like they do Reina. I have a salty, bitchy side but that’s mostly private and only seen by the people who know me very, very well. I am often mistaken as naive and easily fooled because of my apparent trusting nature and genuinely optimistic outlook, and, Reina and Devon tell me, my big green eyes, and dewy skin which make me seem like an innocent little baby. (“With a sailor’s mouth,” Devon alway used to add.)

 

So, back on my doorstep, Reina was about to ring the bell but stopped because she glimpsed a willowy woman crossing the hall towards the kitchen, wearing a very long men’s blue button-down shirt and, as it appeared, nothing else. It had to have been one of Devon’s shirts, Reina remembered a day shopping when I bought some clothes for Dev and I bought several shirts like that one because they were wrinkle-free. I liked to dress him up like he was my doll and he really didn’t seem to mind. The willowy blond crossed back across the hall and, as she did, she stopped, faced Reina, and made eye contact with her. She had an arresting stare and Reina realized, with a start, that it was the woman from the rusty blue Subaru. Her hair was messy but she really was beautiful. Something glistened in her hair. Maybe the woman didn’t see her? She just casually walked back to the master bedroom, she reached behind her back as she walked away, slipped her hand up, under the tail of the shirt to scratch her back. Reina saw a tanned, nicely shaped, and naked cheek peep out at her. When the woman was gone, Reina snapped out of her trance. “But… what was… she doing… “ Reina put it together slowly because, in her, typical-for-Reina, voyeuristic admiration, she was slow to recognize how out of place the woman was. “OMG , she was wearing Peach’s tiara!” Reina told me she realized later.

 

Reina moved to her left so as to stand right in front of the door, where she could only see the living room through the window, and rang the bell. No one came and she pushed the button again. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say and if no one answered the door she had already decided to call the police and then me. She could hear the blood pounding in her ears and feel her heart racing as she thought about this righteous confrontation.

 

Just as she was about to ring the bell a third time, Devon whipped the door open. He must have been fresh out of the shower, he was wearing fitted jeans with no shirt. He was still wet, tanned pectorals, abs, and toned arms glistening. Reina didn’t say all that but my imagination filled in some details.

 

“Oh, hey, Reins!” Devon said and leaned in for a hug.

 

“Oh, sorry, I’m uh sick,” she told him and probably coughed unconvincingly, “you really don’t want to hug me right now,” Reina’s always been good at excuses on the fly. She definitely did not want to be wrapped in those arms.

 

“Oh sure, yeah, I’m sorry to hear that… Hey, Peach’s at the spa, trying to calm her nerves for tonight, you know, getting ready for the awards thing.”

 

“Oh, awards thing, eh? Never heard of it.” Reina deadpanned, I guess I had been obsessing over this for about a year and it filled about 70% of my conversations with either of them. Well, with Dev it was 60% and the other 40% was dirty sexy talk.

 

“HA!” Devon’s annoying laughed explosively, startling and annoying Reina.

 

So Reina told him that I had called her on my way to the spa to ask her to pick up my tiara to go to the jewelers for a last-minute cleaning. Devon pushed back and tried to say that he would take care of it but Reina won and got the tiara, which is why she returned it to me later that day.

 

She told me that when she insisted on getting the tiara, Devon started into her eyes and she suddenly felt cold all over. He seemed dark and dangerous and a cloud crossed his face. That may have been true, it could have just been Reina’s penchant for the dramatic.

 

When Reina got to her car she popped the tiara box open to make sure everything looked right, which it did but there was a single, almost invisible, blond hair inside.

 

 

Chapter 5: A Little Anal

 

Every day after the breakup, Devon kept calling and calling. He emailed. He sent flowers. I responded to some of his attempts and ignored others. The message I was trying to communicate was- we’re through, leave me alone. I could not stop imagining that other woman was in my house, naked under the shirt I bought, wearing my stupid tiara. Reina helped me get the locks changed while we were at the awards ceremony. I shoved all signs of him into his closet, closed the door, and pushed a dresser in front of it. I ordered a bunch of toys online, delivered in discreet, unmarked brown boxes, to fill the sexual vacancy left in my life. I started reading erotic fiction every night with the hopes that my body would wake up again but… it still wasn’t the same as his warm body next to mine, his strong arms around me, his dextrous tongue… well, you get the picture. I had to stop thinking about him but it was next to impossible.

 

One evening after a particularly shitty day making no progress with my writing teams, I opened a new package that I ordered- it was a suction/vibration-type thing with a little mouth to go on my clit and some organic coconut oil lube that I read about online. I wanted to try the suction thing and then try the lube with that thrusting vibrator that came in the goodie bag at the awards ceremony a few weeks before. That had been the last time I had gotten wet on my own. I slipped into my silky lavender nightgown, the elegant one cut on the bias that clung lovingly to my breasts, belly, and round butt. Then the doorbell rang. I thought maybe it was that “supplement” that Reina had told me about on the dark web. By this time, I had gotten a temporary blind for the window so I couldn’t see the delivery person. I opened the door, and there was Devon, looking at me pleadingly with a plate of chocolate covered strawberries and what looked like an erection through his snug pants.

 

“I always loved that nightgown, Peach,” he said quietly. Despite my anger, it was erotic to hear him say my name in that low, breathy deep voice. It’s always been a weakness of mine.

 

“Don’t.” I said, closed the door, and locked the deadbolt. I really tried, I really did.

 

The sight of him at this moment made me angry… but also… aroused. I leaned against the door and slid down.

 

“Peach, I want to touch your body,” I heard him whisper through the door. I cupped my breast the way he used to, and pinched the nipple, hard, sending a tingling sensation down my body to my clit. I suddenly felt my juices flooding in, and my vaginal lips felt warm, slippery, and velvety. I reached down to stroke just a little.

 

“It took him to feel this way again,” I thought. I really thought that I needed him.

 

I slipped a finger into myself and he said,  “I want to taste you, baby. I want to feel your stiff nipples in my mouth. Please, please give me a chance. I want you. I can make you feel good like I used to…”

 

I’m not proud, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I flung the door open and he nearly fell onto me.

 

“Just for tonight,” I said firmly, “and you’re not sleeping here. AND Reina is picking me up tomorrow for brunch and if she sees you here she will cut your thing off, do you understand me?”

 

“Peach, I understand… Peach… I want you… Peach.” I think he knew what he was doing. I was more and more aroused with each time he said my name.

 

“You can have me,” I told him. “But just for tonight.”

 

He grabbed my waist, turned me around, and dropped to his knees. He ran his hands from the back of my heels, up my calves and hamstrings, and cupped my butt. He ran his tongue up and down my crack and I involuntarily clenched my buttcheeks and vagina with desire and anticipation.

 

I reached my hand down between my legs again but he pushed my hand away and ran his fingers up between my vaginal lips to my clit, massaging. He stuck his thumb into her vagina, still stroking my clit with his index finger and then he squeezed his hand and it was all I could do to stay standing. He used his other hand to pull me towards him at the hip and he shoved his face between my buttocks and caressed my anus with his tongue. I moved my hands up to my breasts, which filled my hands, I could feel my heart beating and my nipples were harder than they had been in weeks.

 

“Get your cock inside me,” I whispered, panting with desire.

 

“How do you feel about a back door entry, baby?” he asked sweetly.

 

“Enter wherever you want, just enter me,” I told him as I got down on my knees. My belly and breasts hung pleasantly and I loved the way my ass felt, exposed to him.

 

Devon gently ran his hand between my vaginal lips once more and then spread the natural lubricant on his throbbing penis. I gasped as he thrust his hot phallus into my anus. I had never tried it this way before and it felt… brilliant.

 

Devon started off, pumping gently. “Does this feel ok, Peach?” My nipples twinged at hearing my name again.

 

“Yes, not much harder but deeper if you can.” He slowly slid the length of himself in and, once he was fully inside me, he made small pelvic thrusts upwards as much as he could to stimulate my g-spot. I could feel his head getting there through the walls of my anatomy and my whole body tensed up in euphoria. I could feel my clit as though it were another appendage, fully erect. I had a moment of pure nothingness in my head, in the world, I was not on my hands and knees on the floor next to my front door with a man’s penis up my asshole, I was everywhere, nowhere. I was everything, nothing.  And the orgasm was over. A flood of relief and relaxation washed over me, through every cell in my body,  from the top of my head, all the way down. Devon was not finished yet but he was close.

 

“You can go faster now, it doesn’t hurt, you can finish,” I told him. He thrust once more and his extremities twitched as he came. I imagined his eyes rolling back in the ecstatic agony of orgasm.

 

We lay on the floor, sweaty and tired, not touching. “I was thinking… we could have another go?” he said.

 

“At the sex?” I verified cautiously.

 

“Yes, Peach,” he said slowly, “at the sex.”

 

“Well then, yes, definitely, but not before you take a shower and brush your teeth.”

 

“Agreed,” he said… then, awkwardly… “I don’t have a toothbrush, do I?”

 

“It’s still here.”

 

We fucked 3 more times that night. In the shower (Devon brushed his teeth before getting in the shower); in the kitchen table after having a snack, and in bed. I enjoyed the feel of his cock in my hands, and other places. It was like old times again.

 

 

Chapter 6: Something Extra

 

Two nights before our reconnection, I found out later, Reina met a very interesting woman who she hoped could help set things right for me. Interesting was… well… to say the least. Reina could see the struggle that I had been going through since my breakup with Devon. She knew that Devon had been persistent in trying to reconnect with me and that my doubts of his guilt were budding. Without an interesting new someone, or actual proof, or both, it would be only a matter of time before I let Devon back into my life. REina knows me better than I know myself.

 

Jane had a very unassuming ad in the local alternative paper. She was a PI with something extra going for her. Reina was curious about what this “something extra” might be. She scheduled a meeting, in a dark corner of a public place at Jane’s request. When they met, Reina wa blown away by Jane’s understated yet raw sex appeal. She was, first off, an amazon woman with long and strong tree trunk legs. Jane was dressed simply in jeans, a simultaneously loose and clinging white and black striped tee, and a fitted leather jacket. She wore clear slingback heels and her manicured toes peeped out from the open ends. The horizontal stripes of her shirt rested softly on her large, pendulous breasts and she had an extra long golden chain that fell between them, weighed down by a golden heart-shaped medallion with a suggestive organically-shaped hole in the center, it was very sexy. She had long, thick auburn hair and thick side-swept bangs that almost covered her right eye. Her hands were large and a little pudgy, neat and also manicured. With her gorgeous brown peepers, she was a doe-eyed beauty.

 

Jane sat down in the flimsy bent-cane bistro chair in the dark corner, as requested, of the wine bar that Reina and I liked to frequent. “You must be Reina,” Jane said flatly.

 

“Great. Jane is plain,” Reina thought. For all her amazonian beauty and sex appeal, she seemed to be completely lacking in personality, Reina told me. “Maybe she’s not as interesting as advertised.” Reina thought. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

 

“So, what’s the something extra that you have in your ad?” Reina asked.

 

“Well,” Jane answered seriously, “it’s very unusual and can attract… the wrong kind of people… I have found. Let’s talk about your case first and, if I think I can help you, I will disclose that extra thing that I bring to the table.”

 

“Huh. Ok,” Reina said. “Well…” and Reina launched into the story of our friendship, and my relationship with Devon.

 

“Wait, are we talking about THE Peach McKinley?” Jane interrupted.

 

“Yep, that’s the one.”

 

“Ok, I think I can help you. May I have permission to touch your breast?” Jane asked to Reina’s puzzlement and, most likely, a little bit to her excitement.

 

“Um, I guess, I don’t really understa-” Jane reached across the table and held Reina’s small, athletic breast in her palm.

 

“Oh…” Reina said as she felt her nipples pop out at attention under Jane’s gentle hold. “I hope this woman is a lesbian,” she thought, but her thoughts were interrupted with a flashback of the fun she had earlier that morning with… “what’s her name,” Reina called her, someone she picked up at a bar the previous night. She saw the woman’s head down between her legs and felt the pleasure of what’s-her-name’s warm, wet tongue on her clit once again, as if it was happening right at that moment.

 

Jane pulled her hand away and Reina realized that her jagged breathing and arched back gave her away as on the crest of an orgasm. “How very bizarre,” she thought, “Was this the ‘extra thing?’”

 

“So… do you remember her name, Reina?” Jane asked with a wry grin on her face. Her whole presence had changed. She seemed, more there. She had transformed for the stiff beauty to a sexy, warm soft mammal in the time that she had been holding Reina’s sweet little tit.

 

Reina told me that she blushed and stammered. “I… don’t… know…”

 

Then, Jane amazed her by telling her that it was a girl named Annabelle George. She had told Reina that she lives in Huntington Beach but she was really here from Nevada, visiting her sister who doesn’t know she’s gay.

 

Reina was an instant believer.

 

 

Chapter 7: The Amazing Jane

 

So, back to the night of my “affair” with Devon. I TOLD him that he couldn’t spend the night, but still, I woke up in his arms. We had both conveniently forgotten my commandment. We were awakened by Reina’s honking outside my townhome.

 

“Oh shit, Reina’s here!” I shouted. “Dev, get up, get up, you have to go! She can’t see you here!”

“I’m beginning to think that your friends don’t like me,” Devon said dryly.

 

“Oh shut up, you need to go out the back, through the garage!” I told him.

 

He tried insisting that he wanted to get his stuff but I told him that he could come back in the evening to get it.

 

Reina is almost always late and when I got in the car she informed me that our brunch reservation was in 30 minutes and the restaurant was a 40 minute drive. Gahhh Reina. Gahhhh LA.

 

“We’re meeting someone there,” she told me, “and I don’t think she’s ever late to anything so… she’ll probably grab the table for us.”

 

“Someone, eh?” I asked, “Do you happen to know… her name?”

 

“Oh, it’s Jane.” Reina told me. “I can’t tell if she’s interested in me or not but… you’ll see. She’s a beautiful, thick amazon woman and she’s amazing.”

 

“Amazing… in the sack?” I asked.

 

“Just amazing,” Reina said. I would soon find out what she meant.

 

We made it to breakfast just 10 minutes late and, as Reina predicted, Jane was there, at our table, waiting for us.

 

“I can’t wait to hear what you think of her,” Reina whispered to me as we approached the table.

 

“Peach, I would like to introduce you to Jane, a new… friend of mine.”

 

Jane sat stiffly at the table. I leaned towards her and stretched out my hand to Jane for a shake. I had the strangest moment when we shook hands. I had a brief, vivid flashback to a moment the previous night when I was gripping Devon’s erect penis in the same hand.

 

I excused myself to go to the ladies’ and asked them to order me a coffee and a bottomless mimosa. Jane seemed warmer, more human and present after our handshake, like a different person even.

 

As I made my way through the crowded restaurant, I could feel my big round behind swaying with jiggles punctuating each step. It was something that I used to be kind of embarrassed about but have found that some people quite like it.

 

Reina told me later that she asked Jane what she thought and Jane answered, “Well, we might have a problem…you said you’re afraid that she might go back to her ex?” When Reina nodded, Jane went on, “Well, either she has a very realistic dildo or she was with someone last night…”

 

“Damn… it could go either way,” Reina mused. “She has a huge dildo collection, but… she does seem to have a rosier glow today than she’s had for weeks… God I hope it wasn’t Devon,” she told Jane.

 

Jane told her that they needed to first try to earn my trust and then go from there. She warned Reina that, “Some people don’t want to know the truth.”

 

Then Reina asked Jane if she wanted to touch her ass real quick and Jane answered with a suppressed smile, “Come on, Reina, now is not the time for that.”

 

When Peach I got back to the table, my coffee and mimosa were waiting for me. The menu at this brunch place was simple but enticing. We ordered a plate of thick-cut honey-cured bacon to share. I got the Monte Cristo sandwich with marionberry jam and and two different flavors of heated maple syrup. Jane ordered a pulled pork hash with hollandaise sauce, crispy shoestring potatoes, and a fruit compote. Reina got a giant bowl of steel-cut oats with cream, brown sugar, dried fruit, nuts, and a grilled peach with ricotta cheese nestled in its natural bowl.

 

“I could eat a peach for hours,” she said in her creepiest Nicolas Cage voice, which made me laugh. When Jane stared at us in puzzlement, Reina told her, “It’s from face/off. Peaches went through a Nicolas Cage phase in high school and made me watch all of the movies with her.”

 

“Ah.” Jane said and smiled.

 

Reina pointed out how gross the breakfast pizza sounded and, with perfect timing, a man at a table near us, very loudly, ordered the breakfast pizza. We all laughed, turning heads of other patrons who were annoyed by our raucous good time but the man who ordered the BP didn’t seem to notice. When it came out, Reina whispered to us, “It looks like vomit focaccia!” and we busted out laughing all over again.

 

“So Peaches… how’s single life going?” Reina asked me.

 

I didn’t want to admit to what had gone on the night before so I said, “oh, you know, no action since that lying little shit,” which was technically true.

 

“And when was that?” Reina pressed.

 

I paused. Did she know something? “Oh… I think it’s been, what? 3 weeks?”

 

“Hmmmm…” Reina responded, “are you sure about that?” I rolled my eyes pointedly at Reina. Sometimes she just didn’t know when to let up.

 

By this time, I was on my 4th mimosa refill.

 

“So, Jane,” I started, slurring slightly, “I can’t believe I haven’t asked you yet, forgive me! What do you do?”

 

“I’m a private investigator,” Jane answered.

 

“Wow! That sounds kind of… amazing. Is it?”

 

“Yes, I definitely love my work,” Jane said.

 

“Ok, time to show off your skills,” I said, “what have you noticed about me?”

 

“Well… I can tell that you are recovering from something traumatizing and a bit depressing,”

 

“Ahhh, yes, I’m sure Reina brought you up to speed on that whole debacle… if you didn’t already see it on TV, that is… ” I answered.

 

“You are feeling lonely lately,” Jane continued.

 

“Yep, there’s a hole in the bed where he laid,” I drunkenly sang part of my response from an old Joan Baez song.

 

“You are a very loyal friend,”

 

“Mmmm hmmmm…”

 

“And mostly honest.”

 

Mostly, eh?” I was having fun, “Go on Janey, don’t hold back now… do tell! What have I been lying about?”

 

“Well, I… don’t know how much of this you want to hear but… something tells me that that hole was filled last night.”

 

I sobered up slightly. How did she know? How could she know? I thought she was testing me, to see what she could get from my reaction.

 

“Nope, just a cold, empty… dry… hole… In the bed, that is.” I forced a laugh and tried to act good-natured but I’m not a very good liar.

 

“Peaches. She knows,” Reina finally said.

 

“What… did you HIRE a PI to SPY on me?” I kind of yelled, turning heads in the restaurant again.

 

“No, no, it’s hard to explain,” Reina said, “Just… is it ok if she touches you somewhere intimate? Like, your boob or maybe even just your neck?”

 

“This is ridiculous but… ok, here touch the left one.” I sat up tall, twisted my ribs, and presented my left breast for touching.

 

Jane reached her hand up and held my breast in her hand. Her hand was warm and her hold was gentle and supportive.

 

Reina told me later that I suddenly got a faraway look in my eyes. I arched my back and felt Devon’s hand on my left breast, his dick inside me, thrusting, his other hand holding a small vibrator against my clit. Jane released my breast and most of the sensations evaporated, I was back in the restaurant again, more than a little hot, more than a little bothered.

 

“How… is that possible?” I asked, my face was flushed, my nipples were hard, my panties were warm and moist.

 

“My dear… I wish I knew.” Jane answered simply, sadly, but warmly, looking into my eyes with compassion and a little embarrassment, probably for having seen so much more of me than I knew at the time.

 

“Have you always had this… ability?” I asked.

 

“It started when I was 18 and… just… never went away. It’s ruined almost all of my relationships,” Jane told me, “But I’ve been able to use it to build a business so… I guess it’s not all shit,” she said sadly.

 

“So… that was a very intense experience for me, but… what do you see when that happens? What do you experience?” I asked.

 

“Right? That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out!” Reina piped up. These are the questions that Reina had, apparently, spent the previous night trying to get to the bottom of. She was exhausted but it sure had been fun.

 

“Well, I can see a lot… a lot more than you can, in fact. I can see things about the people you have been with, things that you don’t even know yourself… sometimes things they don’t even know about themselves.”

 

“So you’re kind of like… a psychic?” I asked.

 

“Better!” Reina said, “a SEXUAL PSYCHIC!” The man who ordered the breakfast pizza gaped at us. “Sorry, that was too loud,” Reina mumbled.

 

“Kind of,” Jane said. “I prefer sensual psychic.”

 

I told Jane that I was intrigued but also kind of afraid to touch her.

 

“Yeah…” Jane answered, “That’s a pretty typical reaction. It’s weird how I seem to attract all the  creeps, fetishists, liars, and commitment-phobes,” Jane continued.

 

“Hey!” Reina objected.

 

“Ok, well… it seems like you’re an exception… so far. But you have to admit that you are kind of pervy….”

 

“I’ll give you that!” Reina laughed and Jane and I joined in.

 

“Ok, so… I’m not clear,” I said, “is something going on between you two or is it just professional?”

 

“Can’t it be both?” Reina asked, smiling from ear to ear.

 

“We met because Reina responded to my ad. She seems like a sex and love addict and I’m a self-destructive masochist so…” Jane had a very deadpan way of talking and it was… actually pretty funny.

 

“HEY!” Reina objected again.

 

“Ok, well, I’m too much of an adult to put a label on what we have right now but… it’s more professional and… it’s something. So let’s enjoy it and leave it at that for now.”

 

“Sounds good,” I agreed. Reina looked slightly hurt… but not too badly.

 

“So…” I continued, “I guess you guys didn’t believe me line about ‘it’s been 3 weeks’…”

 

“Nope.” Reina said as Jane shook her head, looking apologetic.

 

“Well, here’s the deal,” and I told them about my dry spell and how persistent Devon has been and the way he showed up on my doorstep at a very weak, and very horny moment.

 

“I know he’s bad news,” I concluded, “but no one has ever made me feel this way before. In bed he’s nothing short of amazing and… most of the time… he makes me feel good about myself. I’ve never had that with anyone before and I’m afraid that, without him, I’ll never have it again.” I reached up to wipe a tear from my eye.

 

“There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to,” Jane said, “I can’t make any promises but… I think she might be able to help you.”

 

We stayed at that breakfast joint well into the afternoon as Jane and Reina coached me.

 

“The first thing you need to do,” Jane told me, “is clear out every sign of him from your home. Reina will come over and help you with this step. You’ll need someone to lean on and to shit with when the need arises. She’ll be good at keeping you on task, too.”

 

“Ha, ya think?” Peach joked.

 

“Yes… Reina is very… assertive,” Jane said, as if to herself.

 

“You need to personally confront him to clear up any “what if” possibilities that may come up. Reina and I will both be there with you or that. Then, you and I will go through the process that we discussed already.” I was a little nervous about that process, a little excited, too. I thought that this might be my chance to get a taste of being with a woman… who knows, I wondered… maybe that’s where life would take me next. Basically, Jane was going to touch me all over and relive my sexual past with me.

 

“The most important thing to do right now, though,” Jane continued, “Is to commit to the process. You will need to recommit to the process every day. Every time you have even the smallest success you need to reward yourself and celebrate, that will make the process and recommitting to it each day, more and more effortless as you move along. I will call you every morning for the first 3 weeks to help you with your daily commitment renewal.”

 

“I’m committed, I’m committed,” I told them.

 

“OK, let’s get started with clearing the shit out today,” Reina proposed.

 

“Deal!” I said. I had totally, totally forgotten that Devon was coming by that evening to get his things.

 

 

Chapter 8: House Cleaning

 

On our way home, Reina and I stopped to pick up boxes and trash bags. Reina was psyched that I was finally going to really and truly give Devon the boot. I was grateful that she had found Jane who could help clear up what was truth and what was not. And I could relive all of my hot sex with Dev… without Dev!

 

We  pushed the dresser away from Devon’s closet. For all the cooking and cleaning the man did around the house, his closet was a nightmarish pile of clothes, random receipts and pocket linty kinds of things.

 

“God, I can’t believe I bought so much for him,” I sighed.

 

“Me either!” Reina laughed and I punched me lightly in the arm, also laughing.

 

We sorted through the things I bought back when I dressed him up as my doll. His shoes, slacks, jeans, ironic t-shirts, underwear-

 

“Dude, let’s just throw all of this away, man. Nobody needs these nasty drawers in their lives. They got bad juju,” Reina said. She put one the the garbage bags over her hands and breathed through her mouth as she stuffed all Devon’s underwear into the main garbage bag as quickly as possible. I could not stop laughing.

 

Once all of Devon’s clothes were sorted for trash or donation, the closet was mostly empty, save for a U-Haul brand file box in the back corner. “Oh that’s one of the few things he actually brought with him into the relationship,” I told Reina, “I should probably return it to him.”

 

“Well… let’s take a peek inside first,” Reina said mischievously.

 

“No, Reins, I really don’t need to know what’s in there. It’s probably worthless crap anyway.”

 

“I’m goin’ in,” Reina said and she slipped the lid off of the cardboard box. Inside was a pile of papers and, alarmingly, several passports. Reina opened the first three and looked at them- no evidence of much travel but… “shit,” she said, “this dude has aliases!”

 

“Peaches, you need to see this,” she said in a low voice.

 

“What is it?” I asked.

 

“Just come look.”

 

Inside, we found passports, birth certificates, and social security cards showing that he had been maintaining 4 different identities. We found handwritten notes from the woman named Melody. One letter chillingly said, “It sounds like you have a real nice setup with this fat woman for now. I can’t wait to be with you finally. Just the two of us. No more of that bossy bitch.” Reina was furious, she looked over at me. I shook my head in disbelief,  tears streaming down my face. Even though I knew he had lied to me it was still hard to believe what we were finding.

 

“I… just… don’t know what to say.” I said.

 

“Fuck him, Peaches, look what I found under the paperwork,” she pulled out a box that was already opened, inside was an almost perfect replica of my tiara. “I’m calling the police. This is some scary shit,” Reina said.

 

Reina guided me out of the room to the kitchen for a glass of ice water first and a few shots of vodka second. We wondered out loud what Devon had been planning. The police officer was supposed to stop by in the next 20-40 minutes.

 

After I had my shots, and Reina had some too, “to be supportive, hey it’s what friends do,” we headed over to the couch “to watch something funny and stupid,” Reina said. “If it’s stupid it must not be one of my scripts,” I joked. As the were walking from the kitchen to the living room, the doorbell rang.

 

 

Chapter 9: Oh Shit!

 

“Oh that’s gotta be the cop,” Reina said and went to open the door with me following behind.

 

It wasn’t the cop, it was Devon, of course, and he was holding a bouquet of yellow daisies.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Reina started, but he cut her off.

 

“Reina, this isn’t about you. Peach, I need you. I know you want to take me back after last night.” Behind Reina, I just stood there, speechless and crying again.

 

“I love you so much and I will do anything to win you back,” Devon said with sad eyes, extending the daisies out towards me and holding his right hand to his heart as he spoke.

 

“You lost your chance, Devon, it’s over,” Reina told him firmly.

 

“No, I need—” Devon began but I cut him off.

 

“I cleaned out your closet today, Dev. I found your box, your passports, everything.” I told him

 

“That’s right,” Reina said, “and you would be wise to leave NOW,” Reina told him.

 

Devon’s whole demeanor changed.

 

“OK, BITCH,” he shouted at Reina, “did I say that this was about you? No I did not. In fact, I seem to remember saying that it’s NOT about you.” He shoved Reina forcefully aside.

 

Reina was strong and athletic but petite and Devon had a good 100 pounds and 16 inches on her, he overpowered her effortlessly. He pushed her aside like it was nothing and then punched her in the face so forcefully that Reina fell to the ground, unconscious.

 

He walked inside, closed the door, and locked the dead bolt. I just stood there, dumbfounded, I think, not fully registering what was happening.

 

“Baby, I could have explained everything to you if you gave me a chance but… I can’t forgive you for going through my private things. You had NO RIGHT to do that.” Devon said in a creepy, low voice. His face was expressionless but I could tell that he was furious.

 

“You’re leaving me with no choice, Peach. I thought you were a good one but it turns out you’re just another bitch like the rest of them.” He spat the words hatefully like they were venom coming from his mouth. I could not believe that this was the same man who she had lived with for 6 months.

 

“Devon, the police are coming,” I told him, “Reina is right, you should go.”

 

“Not without my things,” he said. He threw the daisies on the floor and crushed them with his worn out dress shoe. The shoe I bought for him. It must have been the shoes he wore to the awards ceremony when I kicked him out. He started walking briskly down the hall.

 

“No, Devon, you really should go now,” I pleaded with him as I followed him down the hall. “They are going to be here soon.” I hoped that this would scare him into leaving. I didn’t know what this terrifying stranger was going to do next.

 

“I told you, bitch,” he said in that eerily controlled, low voice, “that I am not leaving without my things.”

 

He whipped around to face me. I suddenly regretted following him down the hall. He grabbed me by the neck with both hands and shoved me against the closed door to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. “And another thing, BITCH,” he added, “you are too fucking fat, you are so fucking fat I’m disgusted just thinking about the things I did to you.” I was running out of air. I was about to try kneeing him in the groin when I heard a wet “smack” sound. Devon gasped briefly and fell forward, totally limp,  onto my body. I shimmied away from him and he fell, face first, onto the carpet. There was the small pink hatchet, with little purple flowers on the handle, lodged in his skull. Reina stood behind him, her eye puffy and swollen, blood and brains splattered on her face, in her hair, on her hands, and on her white shirt.

 

The doorbell rang.

 

Chapter 10: Sexual Healing

 

It was easy for the police to identify who was at fault and the city attorney griped to the press that, with the #metoo movement, the public breakup, and my growing celebrity, he was not going to convince any jury to convict Reina. They wrote it off as self defense and didn’t prosecute.

 

I continued with my healing process, as prescribed by Jane. That one part of the process was very painful, as I feared, and also very fun, as I suspected it might be. After that part of the process, Jane wrote up a report of my sexual past, delights and traumas and sent me on to the next stage in the healing journey to work with a therapist specializing in- conveniently- body issues, infidelity, and sexual healing.

 

I even met a nice guy soon after. Well, we had actually met before. He was the young bartender with strawberry blond hair and sad eyes. He saw me in a coffee shop, one Saturday morning. I was sweaty and felt gross but energized because I had just finished a 3 mile walk, which was progress for me. I was wearing old yoga pants and an over-sized  boatneck t-shirt. The young bartender, Noah, approached me respectfully and nervously asked if he could join me at my table. I didn’t realize it was him until I said sure and he blushed 3 shades of crimson. Then he asked me out. We agreed to take it slow on our second date but then played out a shared bad-school-girl-in-the-principal’s-office fantasy later that night. I don’t take all of my new therapist’s advice, designed to protect me from pain. If you’re going to live, you’re going to feel pain. Plus, some pain is fun, like getting spanked by the principal’s paddle. Whack!

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