Betrayed

My first time with my husband’s brother, we were nineteen. 

He slipped the bead strap of my prom dress down my arm and palmed my bare breast.

“Colt.” I gasped.

“There, Sonsy.” 

I flinched at the words, wondering if he was thinking about my weight. 

“Fuck,” he drew in a sharp breath as his other hand moved up, squeezing both my breasts now bursting out of my bodice.

I bit my lip, staring at his reflection in the mirror before us, his eyes burning with need. 

Need for me. 

And I felt so damned sexy.

He pinched my nipples suddenly, holding my gaze in the mirror.

“Colt.” I sucked on my tongue, trying hard to be quiet.

“Don’t.” He whispered in my ear. “Let them hear you.” 

I closed my eyes, my entire body trembling with anticipation.

Slowly, his right hand journeyed downward, caressing my skin as he went, while his left hand teased my nipples till they became hard as marble.

“Ughh.” I threw my head back.

“Yes.” He murmured in that deep voice, to my body twitching against his touch.

“Spread your legs, sexy,” he said, trailing my earlobe with his tongue. 

Breathless, I moved my left leg further away from my right just as he sucked my earlobe in, working it between his lips.

“Oh god,” I clenched my teeth, and gripped the table.

His fingers invaded me, dancing in the warm slurp he had triggered.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, or think, or worse, be quiet.

His fingers picked up pace inside me, brushing my g-spot urgently.

“Colt.” I gripped his forearm now, my knees buckling, preparing for a looming orgasm. 

This couldn’t be real. The hottest boy in my year was bringing me to orgasm.

“Ride it, sexy.” His voice was authoritative, and… strange. 

I still wasn’t familiar with his voice. 

Today was his first time breathing a word to me, despite being classmates for years. And already his fingers knew all the corners of my pussy.

“Do it, Sonsy.” He lapped on my neck, drawing my skin between his teeth, and I unraveled before him, my legs trembling, my skin hot and tingly as wave after wave of orgasm washed over me.

His fingers moved the whole time, his dirty talking egging me on, till my back flattened against his chest in complete exhaustion.

I finally opened my eyes, and they looked stoned.

Colt slipped his fingers out of me as I turned around.

“Which…” I stopped short, watching him suck his fingers clean. 

My bottom lip disappeared between my teeth, staring at him, getting aroused all over.

“Don’t do that.” He shook his head.

Covering the distance between us, he gripped my neck from behind and kissed me silly.

He tasted of dark chocolate, red wine, and me. 

Colt tasted of me. And I felt like a real person, not a sack of pork.

That was till the door burst open, and Nectar walked in. 

Colt flew off me so fast he nearly crashed. 

I hurriedly reached out for him, but he backed away, his face twisting in disgust.

“Hold on.” Nectar barked out a harsh laugh. “What is going on here?” He came out of the closet last summer and had become the unofficial queen bee of our school.

My heart was beating fast now, my hands sweating, as a deep shade of red colored my skin.

“Nah uh.” Nectar shook his head, his eyes moving from Colt, who had gone back to his cool mysterious self, to me, standing stiff as a rod.

His eyes ran from my head to my pudgy little toes.

Only then did I realize I was still partially naked.  

I gasped, pulling my dress up quickly, my fingers trembling in panic to get the side zipper up. 

But when it rains, it pours!

The universe decided my humiliation had to be complete. My zipper burst open, and my side rolls stood out in defiance.

Nectar was laughing so much at this point, he was wheezing. 

I grimaced, close to tears now, and stole a glance at Colt, who stood unmoving.

“Did you just fuck this cow, Colt?” Nectar finally managed to ask through his laughter, and Colt lunged at him, punching him in the mouth.

I froze, desperately praying this was some nightmare. It wasn’t. 

Because Nectar began to scream at a dramatic high pitch, as if Colt had axed him, the door burst, my classmates, our arts professor, and the drama crew all poured into the dressing room.

I was ready to die. 

My knees trembled, and my back sweated as I muttered prayers for the ground to swallow me whole.

“What is this?” Our arts Professor hurried towards Nectar, gently taking his face between her hands.

She shrieked just as loudly at his bruise. "Who did this to you?" She asked wide-eyed.

“Colt. He just burst my jaw because I caught him pants down with the fatso!” 

“No!” The strangled words burst out of my lips as Colt rushed at Nectar again.

But there were more people to hold him back this time, even though most stood frozen in place at Nectar’s revelation.

“What?” Samantha, the cheerleader, walked towards me. Rumors were that her and Colt’s billionaire families planned to betroth them to one another.

“You fucked this Nymph?” She threw the question at Colt, but her eyes were pinned on me, taking in my exposed side rolls.  She looked like she was about to puke.

Colt growled, “This is the last time anyone will accuse me of something so disgusting.” His face twisted like he had just tasted bile, shattering my heart into a million pieces. 

He turned cold eyes towards me now, “You believe I will touch the sick dough who fucks herself with a toothbrush at recess?”

He spat in disgust and strode away.  Some laughed. Others murmured.

I stared blankly, unable to process what just happened.

Colt touched me, he called me sexy. Did I just imagine it all?

Had I gotten so desperate for male touch that I dreamed up something so vivid?

“Hey, you.” I looked up to see the room had emptied out, except for Samantha and her minions.

I backed away from the demons, but they closed the distance, trapping me against a wall.

“Those hot pants drove you to what’s mine?” Samantha stared at me with hard eyes.

“Olivia wet-pants,” Emma said in a sing-song tone, her minions laughed.

“Wet pants, huh?” Samantha said, her cold eyes still pinned on me. “I’ll help you.” 

She grabbed the bottle of red wine Colt had been drinking.

“Bend over. I will cure you of your disgusting curse,” Samatha said sharply. 

My eyes went round as her hirelings began to crowd me.

“Stay away.” I cried out in terror. “Don’t touch me!” 

But Emma, Roslyn and Serah grabbed me, straining to turn me around. 

I anchored my weight to the floor, and none of the size six girls could move me.

They finally let me go, heaving in frustration, and Samantha slapped me.

Colors exploded behind my eyelids, and I lost my balance.

“You godforsaken bitch!” She shrieked down at me, “You sick pig.” I felt her pointed heel against my stomach and screamed, but Emma hurriedly gagged me with her purse.

“You’re always in heat?” Samantha’s eyes were all fury as she grabbed the ice bucket that had held wine and turned it down on me. “There! Cool enough?”

I whimpered on the floor, shaking my head, unable to get the words out through my gag, PLEASE.

“What did you say?” She cupped her ear with manicured nails, “Still too hot? Not cool enough?”

She grabbed a handful of ice from my body, and raised my dress, while the other girls joined Emma to hold me down.

“Let’s stuff it with ice, maybe it will cool down.” She said, yanking at my underwear. 

I heaved with all my might. Their small bodies flew halfway across the room.

I fled the scene while Samantha was still frozen in shock.

I was already out of breath from all the effort, but I did not stop running.

I ran even though my flesh jiggled violently, a mocking reminder of my shame.

I wanted to run out of my body, leave this heavy mass behind that weighed more from shame than actual fat.

“Stoooop!” I screamed, crashing to the floor to avoid a car that had suddenly swept out of nowhere.

“Stand up, Olivia.” I heard from within the black shiny Rolls-Royce Phantom. The window wound down.

I stumbled to my feet. “How do you know me?” I frowned at the female silhouette in the dim-lit car illuminated by only a starry ceiling.

“Your mother is dead,” the woman said without preamble, and my eyes widened. 

“Your drunk of a father killed my sister, and someone has to pay.” Her head swiveled to face me. "A daughter for a sister. Fair deal?"