This is a sequel to "Will He Catch Us?"
*
The following week, Trisha totally avoided Jimmie. He called several times, at first furious, then offering her a chance to apologize, then furious again and once drunk and almost crying. She didn't know what to do or what to say to him. After having sex with his roommate right in front of him, there was no way she could face him in the harsh light of day.
She was shocked and shamed by her behavior that night. It was almost as if someone else had taken control of her body, used her like a puppet. But it had been her, Trisha knew. And she had taken great delight in inflicting a lot of hurt on a man who genuinely cared for her. And for whom she genuinely had deep feelings for as well. It didn't add up.
Why the hell would she ever do something so vicious and hurtful?
Well, she did have to admit that it was the most erotic, hot and sexual thing that had ever happened to her. By a long shot. Something about that scenario still made her blood bubble and her panties wet. She didn't like to admit it to herself, but every time she remembered that stunned look on Jimmie's face, she felt a warm tingle in her loins.
All the more reason to avoid Jimmie.
But eventually she ran into him on campus. There was no avoiding that. The conversation was one of short sentences. A question with a short answer. Shrugs and tears. Trisha tried to be honest with Jimmie. That she didn't know what had compelled her to behave like that. She shrugged and looked down when he asked her if she liked hurting him like that.
There was a long, awkward pause and Trisha waited for the inevitable tirade. The berating and dressing down she deserved. A loud, humiliating public break-up. But it didn't happen. Instead, Jimmie asked her to meet him for dinner and talk through it.
Trisha was bewildered that he would even consider giving her a second chance. She agreed to meet him for dinner the next night before she even realized what he was saying.
Talk through it? What the hell could they possibly talk through? She had done him about as wrong as a girlfriend could do her boyfriend. Why wouldn't he just curse her out, call her the names they both knew she deserved to be called and walk away? This unexpected clemency confused her and left her feeling uneasy.
She was already regretting accepting his invitation by the time she got out of her next class. It was bothering her to the extent that she decided to skip her remaining class of the day. She was too distracted to concentrate anyway.
On her way back to her apartment, she saw Russ. Trisha tried to pretend that she hadn't seen him and kept walking. But Russ saw her and called out to her to wait. She turned reluctantly and waited for him to approach.
He was a good looking man, of course. The physical attraction was easily explained. But everything else about him chaffed. He was so full of himself, so brash. Yeah, he knew he was a good looking muscular athelete, the kind that some women tripped over themselves to be with. But not Trisha. How had a jackass like that ever gotten into her pants at all? Let alone under the circumstances he did?
Of course, the answer to that was, it was the circumstances, not the man, that had appealed to Trisha. Somehow he had seen that desire in her, the femme fatale cruelty that delighted sexually in Jimmie's humiliation. How had he known she would get aroused to hurt Jimmie like that? She had never even suspected herself capable of that, let alone getting so aroused by doing it.
"Talk to Jimmie?" Russ asked with a foolish grin as he approached. Trisha nodded curtly. She had no desire to talk to the man who had enticed her into what was, intellectually at least, the worst decision of her life. Especially because the tingling in her belly told her that while her head regretted the act, maybe her body didn't?
"What did he say?" Russ asked after a pause made it obvious that Trisha wasn't going to volunteer information. "Or, more importantly, what did he call you?" Russ laughed maliciously.
"He didn't call me anything," Trish shot back, suddenly angry. "He wants to meet and talk through it." She immediately regretted adding that last piece of information.
"Talk through it, huh?" Russ asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Talk through how hot you got fucking me with him watching?"
"Fuck you, asshole!" It wasn't exactly Trisha's best comeback. It just popped out of her automatically.
"With Jimmie watching?" Russ shot back. Trisha fumed, unable to think of worthy rejoinder.
"At least you admit you're an asshole," she snapped.
"Only if you admit how fucking hot it got you. Him waking up and seeing us." Trisha whirled away. She didn't need this. "Hey," Russ called after her. "I got an idea for you." In spite of herself, Trisha turned around and shot him a raised eyebrow.
Russ caught up to her and said in a low voice, "After you talk things through, he'll probably want some make-up sex, right?" Trisha looked at Russ like he had sprouted three more eyes. She didn't really expect there would be much in the way of making up. Probably more like this was Jimmie's way of breaking up... a listing of the reasons and an explanation as to why those reasons were dealbreakers and then the breakup. Right? Did Russ really think Jimmie would take her back? Did he know something? Had Jimmie talked to him? They were roommates, of course.
But Trisha couldn't really see Jimmie confiding anything in Russ these days. Before Trisha could voice these thoughts, Russ continued.
"If he does, then go along with it, okay?" Trisha didn't nod or give any indication of assent, yet Russ went on as if she had. "Get him back to his room and promise him a wild time. Tell him that you really are a wild chick, and that's what he saw the other night. Your wild side." Trisha was shaking her head. What the hell was he talking about?
"I'll set up the bed for you." Trisha's head was suddenly spinning. Set up the bed?? Russ continued, "I'll leave handcuffs attached to the bedposts, tucked under the pillow, so he won't see. When you get him in the bed, cuff him."
"What???" Trisha blurted out, genuinely taken aback.
"Yeah," Russ said in a tone that totally ignored Trisha's surprise. He was talking like she was a willing accomplice. "Get him undressed, start rolling around like you guys are going to get it on, then start telling him how wild you are and how you want to totally blow his mind and shit like that, see? And once you get him cuffed, call my cell." He looked right into Trisha's eyes as he finished the last sentence.
Trisha looked back at him, gaping. Was this idiot really suggesting that, one, Jimmie wasn't going to dump her outright and two, if he somehow miraculously didn't, that Trisha was going to do this to him?
It was bad enough, what had happened before. But that was so different. It was spontaneous, heat-of-the-moment bad judgement. This was... well, this was downright sinister. Evil, even. Russ was talking about a plan to do it again, with even higher stakes, without Jimmie being passed out drunk, forcing him to watch... watch... what was he going to watch? Russ fuck her again? Her suck Russ off again? Part of her was creeped out that she had ever done that stuff in the first place. She didn't really want to let Russ touch her again. Ever.
"You're out of your fucking mind," Trisha said after a long pause. Still shaking her head, she walked away from him. He didn't follow her, but he did call after her.
"You know I'm right. You know you want it just like that. When you change your mind, I'll have it set up, just like I said, okay?" His words went through her, like an icicle slicing into her spine. She shuddered and hurried away.
* * * * *
The next night at dinner with Jimmie, it became quickly apparent to Trisha that he wasn't looking to break up with her. He seemed to be looking for an explanation, some understanding of how Trisha had wound up having sex with Russ that night. It further became clear that Jimmie's memory of the night was pretty spotty. He remembered that Trisha had had sex with Russ, but apparently not any of the details. He obviously had no memory of the cruel, knife-twisting way in which Trisha had concluded that trist. How could Jimmie forgive that? The way Trisha had screamed in ecstasy as Russ had fucked her from behind to a blood-boiling orgasm... and then she had gotten on her knees and watched Jimmie's face as she sucked Russ off and swallowed his cum.
No, Jimmie clearly didn't recall that vile detail or there would be no chance he would be sitting here now discussing it, trying to come to terms with it and save their relationship.
So Trisha tried her best to answer his questions, tried to explain that it was something she never thought she would ever do. How she wasn't the type to deliberately hurt him, but things got carried away in the heat of the moment.
During the converstation, Trisha realized that Jimmie was just looking to come up with the rationalization he needed to not break up with her. He wanted to stay with her, but his pride required some capitulation from Trisha. So she gave it to him by apologizing repeatedly and assuring him that she must have just had too much to drink that night herself.
Trisha knew what a lie that was. She probably hadn't had two beers all night. But Jimmie was totally drunk, so he wouldn't have known that.
