[Spirit of Lust 2] Chapters 92 & 93. (Patreon)

Chapter 92: Letting feelings out.

I told Thomas the story of my weekend, trying to keep it family friendly simply out of embarrassment. There would come a day when Thomas and I would share more explicit stories about sex, but this was not the day. Still, I couldn’t deny that things HAD happened, and that the girls were not only okay with it, but seemed to encourage it and shared every last detail.

“Ugh!” Thomas groaned in frustration and launched the ball towards the hoop over his shoulder with way too much strength. Surprisingly though, the damn thing STILL WENT IN.

“Okay, how do you do that?” I asked, baffled.

“Oliver, you said you were big, right?”

I didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. God, let the planet swallow me. “Yes…”

“How big?”

“I don’t know, Thomas…!” I sighed, frustrated. “Around 25 cm? I haven’t fucking mesured it!”

“But none of the girls have a problem, right?” he asked, frowning.

Oh. I started to see where he was going with this.

“20 to 25 cm may be big, but it’s not THAT big. The human body is made for this shit, isn’t it? Compatibility my ass. Lyla just never liked me. Why did she say yes when I asked her out, then? Dammit.” Thomas grit his teeth and shook his head. He was finally letting out all the emotions he was holding back.

“I don’t know her well,” I started. “But I doubt she’d say yes for no reason, Thomas. To everyone, you two always seemed like a good couple. Was it always bad when you two were alone?”

“Of course not!” he grunted and kicked the ground. He looked down and held his head. “That’s why it hurts. I… I wanted this to work out, Oliver. I really liked her. But now I… I feel so damn angry! Did I not try hard enough? Did she find someone else she likes better? I don’t fucking know. Worst is that I… That I feel like I don't like Lyla anymore. Just like that. Does that mean that my feelings for her were shallow, too?”

“I think it’s normal to feel that way. To you, it must feel like she betrayed you.”

Slowly, Thomas nodded.

Shit. Shit. What could I say? Should I just stay silent and listen? Simply be an ear for him to vent his frustrations? Or should I say something to try and cheer him up?

I didn’t know if what I was going to say would help or make things worse, but I always stayed quiet, I always regretted not saying anything. I wanted to say something to help him feel better, or try, at least. I only hoped this wasn’t the one time where keeping quiet was the right answer.

“...I think it’s fine that way. Be angry. Shout. Cry if you need to. It means that what you felt for her was real. What comes later can wait. In time you’ll move on, but for now… I think it’s fine if you let it all out.”

I felt… awkward. Who was I to be saying such things? I had no experience with stuff like this. I wasn’t talking from experience or any sort of higher wisdom. I simply thought that… it was okay to feel things. There was no need for him to bottle things up.

With a weak chuckle, Thomas sat down on the floor. Slowly, his laughter turned into soft sobbing, and Thomas let himself cry. It was nearly inaudible, and he hid his face by looking down, but he was crying.

Awkwardly, I sat down next to him. It’s not that I didn’t want to be there, but I was afraid to make HIM uncomfortable. Yet much to my surprise, Thomas turned to me and started crying on my shoulder.

“I liked her, Oliver,” he muttered, sobbing softly. “I just hope I didn’t hurt her…”

“You didn’t,” I told him, putting an arm around his shoulder. “At least that I’m sure of.”

***

Thomas and I parted ways some twenty minutes after that. He thanked me for being there. Said he’d be fine and would like time alone to think. I hoped it didn’t mean that I did more harm than good with my presence, but I understood the importance of alone time.

I went back home and straight up to my room. Mom wasn’t there yet, but she’d arrive soon. I sat on my bed, unplugged guitar on my lap. I did some random fingerpicking for a while, head too heavy to think of any specific song to play or practice.

Then I heard a soft knock on my door. It had to be Isabelle, of course. I was seriously not in the mood for her to come and ask me if I was still spending time with Mila, Grace and Sarah, but shooing her off would only make things worse.

“Come in,” I said.

My sister came in, yet the expression on her face was… solemn, her posture non-confrontational. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Did you speak to Thomas today?” she asked me.

Oh. Was it about that? I nodded. “Just came back from talking to him, actually.”

Isabelle grimaced. “How did he look?”

“He tried to put on a brave front, but he was heartbroken. I… tried to cheer him up. I don’t know if it helped.”

My sister stepped into my room and took a seat on my desk chair, rotating it to face me. She stayed silent for a while, and feeling awkward I started to play the first thing that came to mind, and for some reason it was ‘smells like teen spirit’.

“Don’t wanna play something more original?” Isabelle asked, tone neutral, tired.

“When did you stop liking Nirvana?” I asked, echoing her tone and without stopping my hands.

“Never said I had.”

I continued playing, and Isabelle sat back to listen with eyes closed. I didn’t sing, but went through the entire song uninterrupted. Having Isabelle just sitting there, listening, felt nice. I had only just picked up the guitar before we started growing apart.

“You’ve gotten way better,” she said.

“Thanks.”

She sighed. “I tried speaking to Lyla.”

My heart skipped a beat and I turned my attention to Isabelle. “Tried?”

“She wouldn’t say why she broke up with Thomas. Only that it was better for him this way. It smelled fishy.”

I remembered one of Thomas’ passing comments, and a fear seeped into my head. “You don’t think she cheated on him, do you?”

“Doubt it. She looked heartbroken, too. It’s the most bizarre breakup of the year. Those two got along so well.”

For a moment, I was tempted to reveal to Isabelle the fact that their sex life wasn’t the best, but I soon stopped myself. An old habit. No secrets between us. That was no longer the case, and this wasn’t my secret to begin with.

“She must’ve had her reasons. We shouldn’t meddle anymore than we’re allowed.”

“I’d say that if Lyla didn’t want to be with him anymore, then it’s better that they broke up, but I think she regrets it, too.”

“Then maybe the time apart will do them some good?”

“I hope. Though she shouldn’t blame Thomas if he moves on. She asked for this.”

I nodded in agreement.

Another silence passed between us, and I started fingerpicking some more random notes.

“Do you know ‘The man who sold the world?’” she asked me.

“That’s originally from David Bowie, though, not Nirvana.”

“I still like it.”

I played it. I liked it too. Isabelle didn’t say a thing while I played, and when I was done, she stood up and left my room.

I chuckled. Somehow, that felt like a truce. It was nice.

************

Chapter 93: What to do? The answer is so close.

Another day, another morning to look forward to. The funny thing is that not long ago, an entire month could go by and I wouldn’t have had anything to tell. Now I woke up with energy every day, knowing that at the very least I would get to see the girls I liked.

There was a problem that Tuesday morning though (but wasn’t there always?). All this deal with Thomas made me start wondering about my own relationship with the girls. We weren’t officially dating, but I still had strong feelings for them. I was always aware that it would hurt if it all suddenly ended, and thought I was prepared for it. But seeing Thomas crying over his breakup… It made me more scared of losing Mila, Grace, and/or Sarah. It rekindled the question:

What should I do about it?

A part of me screamed that I manned up and asked them all out and to hell with the consequences. I had the strongest feeling that they liked me, too. They’d say yes. The way we talked, the way they acted around me… It couldn’t just be the sex. But the moment I started to believe I could do it, self-sabotage happened.

It’s been barely over a week since we started talking.

I had to be reading things wrong.

I couldn’t bet something like this on a damn hunch.

It was three girls! What was I thinking?

If I asked them out and they were creeped out, I’d be alone again. I couldn’t have that.

And so my mind kept going in circles as I waited in the old music room. Still forty minutes until classes started.

“I’m telling you, it’s good!”

“It can’t be THAT good.”

“Ask Sarah. Wait, no, she’ll deny she liked it. Either out of shame or to make me look stupid.”

The voices of Grace and Mila came from the hallway, and not long after they were coming into the room. They waved at me with loving smiles.

“Good morning, Oliver,” Mila said.

“How are you always the first one here?” Grace asked. “Don’t you ever oversleep?”

“I’ve been sleeping really well lately,” I answered. “I think sometimes I have weird dreams, but I wake up without remembering the majority.”

“I barely ever have dreams,” Mila said.

“I had some pretty nice dreams this weekend,” Grace sang, grinning suggestively. “Want me to tell you about them?”

Mila giggled. “I can imagine.”

Both girls walked up to me and greeted me with a peck on the cheek. Pretty tame, all things considered. Sometimes they greeted me like this, and other times it was a minute long make out session. No idea what decided it.

Mila pulled on my sleeve and pointed to the gym mattress. “Let’s sit down.”

And so we did, with me in the middle, Mila to my left and Grace to my right. Both very close to me, as usual. “What were you two talking about?”

“Mila doesn’t want to read a book I’m recommending.”

“What she’s not saying is that it’s an erotic novel. Now that I’m fine with sex talk she’s been recommending books non-stop.”

“What’s the book about?” I asked curiously.

Grace grinned. “A mind-control story about this girl who is an absolute stuck-up bitch to everyone and does really terrible things. But then this guy learns the secrets of mind control and turns her into his sex slave. It’s pretty damn cathartic to see the girl brought down a good few pegs, and the characters have more depth than you’d think.”

Grace gave off such prim and proper vibes that it was easy to forget she was actually pretty damn kinky. One more thing to love about her, really.

“If you want me to read something, at least recommend the most diabetes-inducing romance you know, alright?” Mila said. “This sex slave thing is not for me.”

“Sarah said the same thing…” Grace sang teasingly.

“Oh, speaking of reading, I read the thesis you recommended,” I said to Grace.

“Did you?” her eyes sparked at that. “What did you think?”

“Well, it was a little hard to understand,” I admitted shamefully. “But I thought it was cool that games could be used to teach English. Made me wonder if you could do the same with music.”

“You totally can,” Mila said. “I have a friend who speaks a good deal of Spanish and that’s only because she listens to a lot of Latin American music.”

“...Maybe I should try to pick up a new language,” I mused.

“Want me to teach you some russian?” Mila offered, giving me the cutest look.

“Mila, I love you, but you’re a terrible teacher,” Grace interjected before I could accept. “When I ask you why a sentence is written a certain way, you can’t answer ‘it just is’ and expect me to accept it.”

“Well, I grew up with it, okay? And I haven’t had formal classes in like 10 years.”

I chuckled. “So you can speak russian?” I asked her.

“Well, yes… My dad doesn’t want us to forget the language, so we mostly speak russian at home.”

I watched the lighthearted banter between Grace and Mila. In a way, it made me a little jealous. They were clearly super close, enough to call each other idiots and know it was all in good fun. But it also meant they were showing themselves like they really were, in front of me. Grace wasn’t keeping her prim and proper persona, but was laughing and joking. Mila wasn’t keeping her aloof attitude, but was visibly getting flustered and her friend’s teasing. They both looked cute, too.

…

I don’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t resist. Maybe it was the fact that Mila and I hadn’t done much since last Wednesday, but just looking at her drew me in. Without warning, I put an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to me and kissed her neck.  Her body tensed and her eyebrows shot up, and only then did I realize what I’d done.

A panicked apology was about to come out of my mouth, but Mila, recovering from the shock, moved even closer to me, grinned and kissed my neck back, giving it a little, playful nibble that made me shudder.

“Take that,” she said, giggling.

Grace snorted. “What was that all of a sudden?”

“I… don’t know,” I admitted shyly. “Y-You both looked cute, and… I don’t know what came over me.”

Mila chuckled and kissed my cheek. “I don’t mind one bit.”

“Want to make those fantasies a reality, huh?” the brunette teased me. “And if I look cute, then why aren’t you kissing me too?”

Surprisingly, Mila eagerly pushed me towards Grace, grinning. My lips met Grace’s with an electric shock to my brain. So soft and sweet. She cupped my cheek and snuck in her tongue. We made out calmly and passionately for a few moments before she pulled away.

“Your turn,” she told Mila.

The Russian girl moved from her spot on my left to sit on my lap, facing me. Without words, she leaned close and kissed me, tongue first, hot and heavy from the get go.

“Mmmmph. Mmm.” She let out soft moans that turned me on even more. She had her hands resting on my shoulders while mine held her narrow waist.

I was getting lightheaded, and the threat of getting a hard-on grew by the second. And then Grace did something unexpected. She got a hand between us and, one by one, started unbuttoning Mila’s shirt.

Mila didn’t stop her. She continued kissing me deeply and even started rocking her hips on my lap, causing my half-hard dick to get uncomfortably stiff inside my pants.

“It’s been a while for you two, hasn’t it?” Grace said, voice soft. She also loosened my tie and undid the first two buttons of my shirt. “Why not go all the way? We have enough time.”

Mila and I broke our kiss to look at each other, eyes asking the same question.

But was there really any other answer?