Ms Consensual Round 02

Chapter 2: "Get In where you Fit In"

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"Well, hello there; nice to see you this morning." I awoke the next day finding my morning wood standing at attention to greet me. It was throbbing with the memory of the night that preceded it.

Once again, I was unindicted with mind movies that were welcome this time. My earlier dustup had been wiped away like a damp cloth on a dry erase board. There was an infectious energy about my person as I sat up with tented pajama pants stretching with an extended yawn. The events of the last few hours seemed incredulous in hindsight, but it happened. I'd hooked up with Phoebe last night.

...and it was glorious.

Phoebe's huge melon sized mams were all I could see as I sat in my own cluttered, unkempt bedroom in a state, perpetually processing the experience. This woman cleaned my pipes and then some, all without us going all the way. A pregnant married woman put me on cloud nine with a showstopping round of marathon sloppy top ending things with a bang. I got my cock deep between her swollen tits, allowed to fuck them as much as I could manage. I'd blown an epic load of cum between her jugs and Phoebe even cleaned my cock with her mouth. It felt like something was gonna happen the minute she called me up.

I was going through the five stages of grief after pulling a dumb move with the intent of running her off, but still faltered in the end bending the knee. In hindsight again, it feel like Phoebe was fooled in the least. Her static expression took me for a loop along with her plainly asking me if I liked her. She seemed to want me to twist in the wind but rewarded me for my honesty in the end. It felt like she was still sucking me to nirvana as I sat these on my bed which was one half of a left-over bunk that had been demolished during some horseplay with a few cousins in my youth. My dick was rock hard today.

"¡Ah, mierda, no puedo sacarme esas enormes tetas de la cabeza! ¡Ojalá estuvieran aquí para poder follarlos de nuevo! ¡Maldita sea, estoy surgido!"

Phoebe seriously had me "shook" as my hand nudged my phone on the bed beside my pillow. I glanced at it snapping it up bringing her number into view in my contacts. My finger hovered over Phoebe's info as visions of her mouth and tits made my cock throb and twitch. It felt as if I might cum just from the memory alone.

"Nah, I'll call her later, like maybe eleven or something more respectable." I tossed it aside stripping off my t-shirt and pajama bottoms leaving them on the floor. I noticed my dickies still turned inside out on my bedroom floor. Moreover, there was a big sticky wet stain on the crotch. I'd bust in my slacks on the way home right after creaming the zipper so much that I had to slip them off like boxer briefs.

I was on cloud nine standing there nude in my bedroom feeling like I'd just had my first time.

The "Phoebe experience" was leagues better than my actual first time.

I scoffed going into my bathroom settling for a very cold shower to get things under control. There was a lingering thought in the back of my head that maybe Phoebe would order some more "groceries" later in the evening like she did the previous night. I wanted to save up another big load, just in case. My heart was thumping at the thought of her criminally cute face intercut with her huge, juicy knockers.

"Hey Charlie, what's up with you this morning?"

"Nothing." I was smiling as we rolled down the long winding street towards my grandfather's corner store. It was such a nice sunny day; I'd skipped the freeway which normally cut my commute time in half. Strains of "Splash Waterfalls" by Ludacris wafted through my VW beetle.

"Aw come on dude; don't give me that shit."

"What're you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about, bro; yesterday you were raging out and today you sitting here looking uh, like you released something. You gonna spill, huh Charlie?" I chuckled at the Sherlock Holmes bit being pulled by my best friend.

"I don't know what you're talking about Juan."

"You KNOW what I'm talking about; so, what's her name, boy?"

"Stop."

"Oh really, is that how we gonna play it?" His own laugh sounded forced, but I wasn't up to admitting anything and I didn't know how my bud would react to me hooking up with a pregnant married woman.

I still didn't know how I felt about hooking up with a pregnant married woman.

There was no doubt Juan would clown the shit out of me.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Is she pretty?"

I snickered, staring at his face, finding Juan increasingly eaten up by his own rampant curiosity.

"She got big tits?" I kept chuckling turning up the music as I hit the last stretch leading to the corner store.

My flimsy denial of Phoebe's existence was designed to be a covert admittance without giving anything up as he kept questioning me through the opening of the corner store and morning set-up. I'd never admit it, but I kept popping wood in brief intervals while being socially grilled as Juan commented about my uptick in hygiene citing the ironed collared button up t-shirt and slacks, even noting the presence of some cologne I hadn't worn in a minute since getting it as a Secret Santa gift in home room back in the day. He kept it up for a good while even hitting our resident transient Mel with a five when he popped up.

"She got big tits?"

"Who?" I replied clearly having fun at his expense when I realized my best bud was lingering longer than usual instead of being off to his own part town job at a garage a few miles over.

"Aw man, you're tripping; this ain't over, dude." Juan was fuming as he left for his bus stop a few blocks over to make it to work. I'd successfully waited him out, but reaped karma as visions of Phoebe returned like some siren's song compelling me to dial her up. I found a way to abstain in the form of some customers filing into the store for a partially busy morning. I was relieved to be distracted from Phoebe.

The mind movies continued as I made do with the rest of my day making a mental note to call Phoebe right after noon. I did some stock work in the back finding it hard not to continually look at my phone.

"Huh?" I was a minute from noon, failing the hour dialing her number immediately conflicted because I didn't know what I would say or how to even broach what happened between us hours earlier.

The call went to voicemail.

"Oh, she's probably sleeping; we were up pretty late, last night; and she is with child obviously." I self-explained feeling a bit odd despite the plausibility of the situation. I made a mental note to call again in an hour, but changed that to thirty minutes, ending up dialing Phoebe in fifteen.

The call went to voicemail.

This queasy feeling started to engulf me as I stared at Phoebe's number telling myself the same explanation from earlier as my mind started to go into overdrive.

"Shit."

Two more calls all to voicemail with no message left as I started to panic replaying my fortuitous night finding subtle ticks and clues in Phoebe's seemingly innocuous behavior. I felt a sliver of dread recalling the static expression on her face at the conclusion of our uh, tryst. I started to feel progressively anxious stopping myself from dialing again, then becoming morose that I'd left behind some digital evidence in all those calls without a message. I was worried I'd killed it before it even began. Phoebe would be creeped out by my incessant calling; even worse, she might get her husband involved.

"Oh, fuck me, ah shit man; she's married, and pregnant, man." I buried my face in my hands realizing that I was indeed a creep after all. I'd engaged in some serious second base with a married woman.

I was scum of the earth.

I was alerted from my inner self-flagellation by some customers, teens coming into the store for some snacks. It felt like somebody had taken a boulder sized whoopie cushion and slapped me across the face with it. Juan came to mind as a confidant, but I knew I couldn't cop to anything and not get clowned to death. Worse, he was a notorious gossip amongst our friends' group. He'd have a field day with this shit especially after I'd stonewalled him on the details. Juan would have his verbal pound of flesh if involved.

"Maybe I did something that messed with her baby." I facepalmed cringing uncontrollably at the sound of that internal rumination. During the last part of my tryst, I'd managed to stay away from her belly as I fucked the stuffing out of her massive melons. My crotch still throbbed and twitched at the thought.

"Nah, wasn't that; maybe uh, it was a shit test, and I wasn't supposed to do any of that shit in the first place? Damn, I'm so stupid. That's probably why she had that look on her face, yeah that's probably it. Aw fuck, man. ¡Lo arruiné antes de que pudiéramos hacerlo! ¡Ah, mierda, ¿qué estoy diciendo de alguna manera?! "

I got down from behind the elevated counter snagging a can of beer from the coolers in the back, chugging it down in moments. I was reliving that hookup in the negative now, going over everything with a fine-tooth comb. My mind returned to the static expression on Phoebe's face repeatedly.

My phone was ringing incessantly knocking me out of that manic daydream.

"HELLO?!!" I ran to the counter answering it like I was on fire.

"Can you come over here; I need you, Charlie." It was Phoebe making my heart skip a beat and flutter.

I closed up the store right away jumping behind the wheel speeding off to her house like I was in Nascar. I didn't know what to make of things other than taking her call as a sign of faith, hoping I could get some clarity. There was a tent in my loose jeans the second I heard Phoebe's mousy, almost childish voice. Humorously, I ran a comb through my hair and huffed into my palm checking my breath as I drove. We hadn't kissed yet, and maybe today would be the day as I pulled up in front of her home almost stopping. There were people sparsely out, neighbors lounging in the afternoon sunlight, some talking.

"Oh yeah, side street." Luckily, I hadn't come to a full stop able to coast on by making a right onto the side street between Phoebe's home and the wall separating the area and railroad track opposite side.

"Hey uhm, I'm here." I dialed up Phoebe, getting an instant answer.

"WHERE ARE YOU; I DON'T SEE YOU OUTSIDE?!!" She shouted, snarling into the phone leaving me taken aback.

"I pulled over on the side of the house, like last night?" Unexpectedly Phoebe started chuckling out of the blue, making me pull the phone away from my ear with a raised brow.

"Oh, it's okay Charlie; nobody's here right now so you can walk around here to the front of the house. I'll open the door for you, okay?" She sounded glib again, as I turned off the ignition slowly getting out in the afternoon sun. I put on a pair of shades looking about stuffing my hands in my pockets trudging around the corner feeling like eyes were peering out at me from some of the other bungalows and the McMansion bordering the opposite side of Phoebe's picture-perfect craftsman abode.

"Huh?" There was a large coffin sized box on her front porch.

It was slightly wedged against the front door as she opened it wearing this cotton dress that flowed outward from just under her bust billowing outward. It was sort of a vintage look from at least the fifties or sixties accessorized with this headband bandanna that completed her look, brown hair flowing down over her shoulders. She glanced down at the box, then at my face quizzically for a moment.

"Bring this around the side of the house; uhm, over there on the side where the drive-in parking lot is. I'll walk to the back and prop the door open so that you can bring it into my bedroom, Charlie." With that, Phoebe disappeared from the door letting it slam loudly. I heard the main door lock audibly.

"Uhm, alrighty then." The box was long as my five foot eleven inches of height.

It was cumbersome because whatever was inside this box was semi-solid. The delivery man should've brought the box inside, but left it shoved up against the front door like an asshole. By the time I reached the side of the house, I was already making excuses for why the unseen delivery driver hadn't done just that. I told myself this was the result of living in a post pandemic world. Workers had a right to be safe.

"CHARLIE, I'M WAITING!!" Phoebe shouted out of the blue as I yanked and pulled on the somewhat rickety box tearing it in places. This really was a job for two people considering how she wanted it done.

"Fuck, dumbass delivery driver." I muttered under my breath, cursing the delivery driver again for not finishing the job as I rounded the house finding Phoebe there waiting with an aggressively pensive expression on her rounded cherubic features. She had the door propped open with a brick as a doorstop making me worried that she had to bend over to pick it up. Phoebe leaned against the wall sipping from a small narrow can with no label. It looked like a V8 drink sans the label.

"SHIT CHARLIE, YOU DIDN'T TEAR IT. DID YOU?!!" Phoebe's brow furrowed, noticing the rips at one end of the large rectangular cardboard box. Whatever was inside was embedded in a thick grey plastic sheathe. I paused to stare at her face unable to talk or think of a reply.

"It, was already like that."

"No, it wasn't; I watched the guy drop it off at the front porch and it was in pristine condition! You don't have to lie Charlie. If you needed help with a cardboard box, all you had to do was ask." Phoebe sounded mean spirited and excessively snarky with that dig at my manhood. I was flabbergasted.

"Uh, sorry."

"Stop apologizing and bring my shit in here." Phoebe stalked off with a handful of the billowy hem of her cotton dress stepping over one end of the box leaving me there.

"Mierda." I mumbled under my breath picking up the far end of the box lifting it chest level bumping into the door making the other sharp end of it crumple against the door frame.

"GAWD DAMMIT CHARLIE, FUCK!!" Phoebe snarled in this angry childish sounding tone.

"SORRY!" I managed to drag the box just inside the door, sort of creasing it in the middle this time. I knew she was there watching intently sitting on the edge of her little bed. If looks could kill, I would have been nuked as Phoebe sat there glaring visibly gritting her teeth.

"Just leave it."

"Don't you wanna get it over near the bed; maybe unbox it?"

"I said leave it." Her voice was ice cold.

"Uhm, okay." I stood up not knowing what to do with myself eventually shoving both hands in my pockets, looking at her but, sort of looking towards her flatscreen television which was playing old sitcoms. Phoebe was watching a rerun of Gilligan's Island. There was an open laptop on her bed along with some sporadic papers as Phoebe glared at the jacked up cardboard box, then at my face.

"Thanks."

"Uh, you're welcome?" I replied framing it like a question as she slowly got to her feet grabbing some of the papers on her desk perusing them without looking at me.

"Bye Charlie."

Huh?"

"Goodbye; I'll uh, give you a call someday." Phoebe ignored me going over those papers as I stood there silently processing my sudden irrelevance. My brow furrowed as my face made this reactionary half smirk looking at the back of her head, long flowing brown hair, cute bowtie head wrap and all.

"HAVE A NICE DAY PHOEBE!!" I half ran out letting the screen door to her bedroom slam loudly. It was that hollow sounding metal sound that you'd get when something thin or unsound crashed into a solid.

Self-depreciating rage filled me to the brim as I clambered over the fence almost toppling headfirst onto the pavement. I got up storming to my humble Volkswagen Beetle like someone had stuck a hot poker up my ass as Phoebe's screen door slammed a second time followed by her childish booming voice.

"BRING YOUR ASS BACK HERE....NOW CHARLIE!!!" Phoebe shouted loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

I hesitated while my ego screamed at me to drive away flipping her the bird.

"NOW CHARLIE HUERTA!!!" Phoebe screamed again followed by the sound of her screen door slamming again. That sound was different, more violent with a nails on the chalkboard screech which told me she'd almost yanked it off the hinges going back inside.

"Aw man, I'm dumb." My body was already rebelling taking me back to Phoebe's house via the backyard fence while my ego hurled insults at me and my masculinity went on strike.

The door handle on her screen door was partially wrenched off giving me pause.

Inside I found Phoebe sitting on the edge of her mattress facing her television slightly leaning to the side placing her still open laptop on the floor at the end of her bed. She looked at me standing there favoring her right hand which was used to yank the door open when I angered her. I just stood there until she motioned in my direction looking beyond annoyed. I inched over, not knowing what to expect noticing Phoebe's face was flushed in a noticeable pinkish tone that threatened to overpower her normal wheatish pallor. She was still gritting her teeth rubbing her hand looking like a caged animal.

"Hormones."

"Excuse me?"

"Hormones Charlie; I got a lot of them, okay? I was harsh with you and that was not my intent. I am sorry if I did anything to make you feel uhm, underappreciated. You didn't have to storm out; I mean we could have talked about it like adults, right?"

"I guess."

"You guess?!" Phoebe raised a brow.

"You're right." I wilted in front of her face shoulders stiffening up as I twisted in the wind internally still wanting to flip her the bird.

I averted my eyes from her face looking instead at the stuffed bookcase directly opposite me across the small, cramped room. The ending strains of the Gilligan Island theme filled the room as she looked around sort of anxious herself. I waited for the next shoe to drop or for her to dismiss me, knowing I would be avoiding her from here on out. Phoebe's brown eyes settled on me again, blinking profusely.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you for another favor, please?" Her tone was mousy and inoffensive again as I folded my arms across my chest trying not to fume.

"Sure."

"Uhm, can you get me that bottle of olive oil off the bookshelf, please?" She pointed at the shelf facing her while using the other hand flattened against the upper swell of her baby belly. I stumbled quickly catching myself under gaze walking over retrieving it from the shelf amongst the clutter and random knickknacks sharing the shelf. There were many anime figurines and vintage toys there. My eyes settled on an old windup monkey toy. It was the kind with the symbols that clapped when wound up.

"Here you go, Phoebe." She didn't take the bottle offered right in front of her face as she sat there level with my crotch.

"Uh, I was hoping you might like to help me out with that oil." Phoebe undid three buttons on the front of her simple frock letting her big, juicy mams do the rest through sheer weight alone. My eyes went wide as saucers watching Phoebe's huge breasts bulge up and out of the unbuttoned space in her dress.

"YUH-YOU! WANT ME TO, UH...!!"

"Massage my titties with that olive oil; they're really swollen today and my back's killing me with all of this up front. Would you massage them for me for a little while, maybe squeeze them real hard; I like having my titties mauled and groped, Charlie. Think you could do that for a minute or two, huh?"

"..." The cat had run away with my tongue like the Olympic torch.

"Charlie?"

"¡¡Joder, ma, Dios me está sonriendo en este caso aquí mismo!! Tengo que recordar poner algo de dinero en ese plato en la iglesia este domingo."