Chances Aren't (34 page)

Once Jillian discovered the infidelity, she wanted to know if George had left her with any other little surprises. She went to her doctor for a complete STD panel of tests, and luckily for him, she came back clean. Had George left her with something, she would have cut off his balls, or worse.

Jillian could always come up with stories and had never suffered from long bouts of writer’s block in the past. But lately her male characters ended up mangled in some horrible accident, diseased, or unable to perform. She could not focus. Even though she had no personal interest in the lifestyle, she pitched an idea for an all-female, lesbian romance novel, but her publisher declined. Maybe she would try to write in another genre, she thought, but this romance stuff used to come so easily to her.

She was sitting on four unfinished manuscripts. Once Jillian found a story heading down the wrong path, she would start another, but that technique didn’t seem to be working for her, either. Since the divorce, she found herself unable to finish a novel, and she was beginning to think that maybe what she needed was a complete break from writing.

She couldn’t blame George completely, because ever since her first bestseller, she definitely was less attentive to him than she needed to be. It was probably at least ten percent her fault, although she never admitted that to him. Even so, did he really need to screw other women in their house, especially in their pool? Couldn’t he have gotten a divorce first or at the very least done it in a hotel or something? What if their son, Rob, currently attending college in Georgia, had come home to catch his father doing what he was doing with another woman in broad daylight? Rob would have been devastated.

He’d be home for Spring Break in about six weeks, although Jillian was sure he’d spend nearly all his time with his girlfriend, Laura, who was going to school in Miami. They’d been dating since their junior year of high school, and it looked like these two kids were in love and would be married once they graduated from university.

Even though she knew she wouldn’t see him much while he was home, Jillian looked forward to his visit. She knew her son was the only truly good thing to come out of the marriage.

Jillian grabbed the remote control and changed the channel just in time to catch the Super Bowl as it was ending. She had forgotten it was on. Not that she would have tuned in anyway. She used the Packers’ victory celebration as a distraction from thinking about romance novels or ex-husbands or even men in general, although she did like the way Green Bay’s quarterback filled out his tight football pants. She might be bitter, but she wasn’t dead.

Staring up at the ceiling, she wondered what had brought her to this place in her life. How had she ended up all alone in this big house? What had she done wrong? She glanced back to the screen. When she saw an image of the Steelers locker room filled with nearly naked men, she thought about her best friend, Victoria Wilde. Jillian wondered what she was doing. She checked the time and saw it was still early. Grinning, she wondered why she bothered checking, since even two in the morning would still be early for Victoria. She grabbed the phone and dialed. The phone rang three times, and just as Jillian was about to hang up, she heard the click. After five seconds of complete silence, the sound of soft moaning spilled through the phone.

Jillian listened for a moment. "Victoria?"

"Hello?" Victoria finally replied in a throaty drawl.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Oh, uh... not much. I just have a friend over."

"Sorry, I’ll let you go then."

"No, don’t worry about it. I can talk for a few minutes."

Victoria was sitting on the sofa in her living room, wearing a skintight, cleavage-featuring top. She had just turned thirty-nine but looked much younger, as she was in spectacular shape and dressed like a woman in her late twenties. Her "friend" wasn’t currently visible at her eye level, but he was nearby.

"So, what’s going on?" Victoria asked.

Jillian sighed and began, "I tried to do some writing tonight, but I’m struggling
again
. I’m just not in a very sexual mood."

"Why don’t you try watching some porn? That always gets me in the mood."

"I don’t have any... porn," Jillian replied, taken aback a little by the suggestion.

Victoria moaned slightly, "Yeah," in a low voice.

Narrowing her eyes, Jillian asked pointedly, "You sure this is a good time?"

"I think the ice melted," Victoria said.

"What?" Jillian asked.

"Sorry, I was talking to my friend."

"Oh. You sure you can talk?"

"I have at least five minutes before I finish."

"Okay…" Jillian said, a little confused.

Victoria slumped down low on the sofa, her miniskirt pulled up to her waist. Her twenty-six-year-old friend Austin’s head was buried between her legs. He was extremely busy.

"You have no porn? Really? Check Rob’s room. I’m sure he has a stash."

"I will not go searching my son’s room for porn," Jillian replied, horrified.

Pulling the phone from her ear, Victoria tapped the young man on the shoulder, gave him a tired look, and said a little curtly, "Ice."

The young man pulled his head up and then smiled at her. "Sorry. I was so totally focused."

Victoria put the phone back to her ear and continued, "Come over here, and you can borrow some of mine."

"No, thanks. I think I’ll just go to sleep."

Austin slipped a piece of ice into his mouth then went back to work between her legs. When his super-cold tongue reached a particularly sensitive area, she dropped the phone and squealed. She closed her eyes and moaned. "Oh, yeah... that feels good."

Jillian widened her eyes. "Victoria? Victoria, are you sure I’m not interrupting anything?"

Victoria put the phone back to her ear. Her lips were slightly parted, and her eyes were almost closed. It was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate. She heard Jillian’s voice.

"Victoria, are you there?"

"Oh, sorry about that."

"Who’s over there? What are you doing?"

"Oh, yeah. Keep doing exactly that," Victoria said with her eyes closed. She opened her eyes and then grinned. "Jillian, have you ever had anyone perform oral sex on you while sucking an ice cube?"

"What? Ice? No!"

"Well, that would certainly help you write-- Oh, my..." After breathing in deeply, Victoria moaned.

Jillian made a face as she asked, "I’m almost afraid to ask. Are you, uh, doing that... now?"

Victoria exhaled slowly and said languidly, "Yeah, and it’s... amazing!"

"And you’re talking to me?"

"I can multitask," Victoria replied casually.

Jillian’s mouth flew open as she thought about how to proceed.

"So, what else is up?" Victoria asked.

"Should you really be talking to me with some guy doing that to you?"

"Well, I figured I’d be returning the favor soon, and..." Victoria paused to exhale deeply again and continued, "I certainly won’t be able to talk to you then."

After Jillian nodded, her face registered mild agreement. "Oh, that makes sense... Wait, no it doesn’t... I’m going to go."

"Oh... yeah, Austin. Jillian? Jillian, what I meant was when my mouth is full, it'll be really hard to hold a conver–"

"No, no. That part I got," Jillian interrupted. "I think I’m going to go and let you..."

Victoria ran her fingers through Austin’s hair as his tongue continued licking away.

"You should... totally try this. It would clear up that writer’s block issue immediately. When’s the last time someone went down on you?"

Jillian made a sour face. "I’m just going to—"

"I mean, like, really got in there and did a good job with it?"

"Okay, I’m going to hang up now."

As Jillian hung up the phone, her sick expression morphed into a smile, which eventually transformed to something akin to confused longing. She actually could go for some good oral sex right about now. Jillian stared blankly ahead as she tried to recall the last time anyone did that to her, much less if he did a good job while doing it. She couldn’t remember exactly, but she knew it’d been a long, long, long time.

Rob Grayson was throwing a Super Bowl party in the on-campus suite at Georgia State University that he shared with five other guys. The suite was ordinary, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a common living area. It featured one extraordinary thing, though. Rob owned the biggest television on campus.

His mother, a bestselling author, had purchased it for him. He never told anyone about the types of books she wrote, because he was totally embarrassed by them. He told people his mother wrote legal thrillers under a pen name. He didn’t want to admit that she wrote about perfect-bodied men and gorgeous women with huge, full, bouncing breasts having mind-blowing sex.

Rob and his best friend, Brian Nash, both college seniors, had lived together with most of the same guys in the same suite since sophomore year. Virtual opposites, the two had been best friends almost from the start. They never shared a room, since they were on different sleep schedules. A morning person, Rob preferred early classes, while Brian enjoyed sleeping in and attending afternoon classes. They spent most of their time together at bars and hanging out.

Another probable factor in their close friendship was that neither had been preoccupied with an on-campus girlfriend during the entire time they had known each other. Rob had a longtime girlfriend back in Florida, and Brian... Well, Brian was shy with women. He’d had a few girlfriends over the years, but none were ever serious or lasted more than a few weeks.

At the height of the Super Bowl party, about thirty people crowded into the living area, watching the game on the seventy-inch high-definition screen. Most were Steelers fans, but a few, including Rob and Brian, cheered on the Packers. After the game, the majority left to hit the local bars, but four of the guys and two girls—a junior named Natalie and her roommate, Cindy—stayed behind.

Brian was a little drunk. He sat on the sofa and watched Natalie and Cindy talking to Rob and another guy from the suite. Natalie was wearing a bulky white sweater and tight gray stretch pants. Her ass looked amazing in those pants. He’d noticed the curve of her backside much earlier, and whenever given the opportunity throughout the night, he stole a quick glance.

Brian had seen Natalie around campus before, but he had never met her. She had been invited by some of the other guys in the suite, but he didn’t know much more about her. He’d heard that she didn’t currently have a boyfriend, but he wasn’t all that interested, since she was a little tall for him and always seemed so full of herself. But now he was beginning to rethink his initial impressions, since she did look spectacular in those pants.

He sipped his beer as he alternated between watching the postgame coverage and the other people in the room, who were trying to coax Natalie into doing something. He wasn't paying close enough attention to know what they were talking about. Natalie rolled her eyes, evidently persuaded, and removed her sweater to reveal a tight camisole underneath. Brian perked up in his seat, since this was now much more exciting than the postgame coverage. Was she going to take off more?

No more clothing came off, but what she did next would change Brian’s life forever. Standing perfectly still, Natalie took a deep breath and slowly and gracefully lifted one of her legs until it was pointed straight at the ceiling. The other remained firmly planted on the floor as she rose up onto the ball of her foot. She held her raised leg with one hand, almost effortlessly, as Brian looked her up and down.

He zoomed in on her ass, trying to see any hint of the underwear she wore under those tight pants, but he could see none. She was either wearing nothing or some kind of tiny thong. While staring at her open-mouthed, his beer began to spill on his pants. When he realized it, he simply corrected the bottle without bothering to wipe off then quickly looked back at Natalie as she maintained that amazing pose. He studied her legs and tilted his head slightly to get a better angle. Looking closer, he was convinced he could see just a hint of the outline of her parts in the crease between the leg pointed south and the other, pointing due north.

Like the rest of the group, he was amazed by Natalie’s athletic ability, but unlike them, he was more impressed with the incredible firmness of her ass. He supposed that made him shallow. The beer could be partially to blame. But he had such a limited sexual history that he often found himself more preoccupied with sex than other guys his age. He knew that was saying something, too, since most of his peers thought with their penises far more often than with their brains. He seemed to think with his penis
all
the time.

Seconds later, as Natalie slowly brought her leg down, Brian’s eyes followed it the whole way, his mouth still wide open. While her audience clapped, he approached her. He was hooked. He spent the rest of the night talking to her, getting her drinks, and hanging on her every word. Later, he walked both Natalie and her roommate to their dorm.

As he lay in bed that night, unable to sleep, Brian pictured Natalie with her leg in the air in the same amazing position, but this time she was completely naked. It was only the two of them in the living room now, but he again sat on the sofa, holding a beer and just watching her. While she continued to hold her right leg skyward with a hand near her ankle, she used one finger of that occupied hand to motion for him to come to her. Dropping the beer, he leapt up and went to her. When he reached her, she was somehow able to remove her hand from the leg without it moving at all. He knew it was impossible, but it was his fantasy. He stood next to her with her ankle inches from his head. Natalie looked him in the eye while she used both hands to unzip his pants, extract his equipment, and guide him inside of her. Sighing, Brian rolled over in an attempt to go to sleep, hoping he could coax that thought into his subconscious as a full-length sex dream.