Twisted Thomas

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#7 Cheap hooker


Waking up naked wrapped around a man isn’t all that unusual for me, but when I realize it’s not Michel, my heart stops for a second. It’s been a long time – five years actually – since I woke up with anyone in my bed who wasn’t Michel. My body relaxes when I realize it’s Thomas. I don’t know him the way I know Michel, but I do trust him, for some reason, and it seems like I’m unable to feel tense with his arms around me.

“Morning, babe,” he murmurs when I stir. “Your tits make for an excellent pillow.”

I laugh and he raises his head from its comfy place on my chest. He grins up at me and keeps his eyes locked on me while he kisses my left nipple. Oh God, I’m barely even awake and I’m already turned on. His hand is already moving underneath the blankets, finding its way to my clit without any trouble. I’m as surprised as he is to find that I’m wet and ready, like I wasn’t sound asleep mere moments ago.

“Morning sex?” he asks, licking my nipple slowly, turning it tout and hard in a few seconds.

“Yeah,” I moan, already gone for. “Sure.”

This time, it doesn’t take nearly as long for him to get me off as it did last night. His moves are slow and almost sleepy, our kisses sloppy, and everything is just so warm and wet that I fall apart faster than I thought I’d be able to, spasming around his fingers.

“Are you a morning person?” Thomas teases, pulling me on top of him and lifting me slightly so I can sink down on him.

“Oh fuck,” I breathe. He feels different than he did last night, and it takes a moment to realize why. “Your piercing?” I ask, frowning down on him.

“Took it out when I had to pee in the middle of the night,” he grunts in response. “It needed to be cleaned and I was too tired to put it back in.”

Last night was hot, but I actually like the natural feel of him better, without needing to worry about something hurting me from the inside. I grab the headboard and start riding him. He grabs my breasts, playing with my nipples while he lets me dictate the pace, just along for the ride.

“Come with me?” I ask, sounding breathless.

“Sure thing, babe.” He grabs my hips and holds me still while he trusts up again and again, making me feel so damn good.

My orgasm hits a few seconds before his does, but we do come down from our highs together, shaking from the aftershocks. He kisses me deeply, and I have to admit I’m already getting addicted to the way he kisses. He’s always all in, his tongue demanding entrance, his hands pulling at my hair while he dominates my mouth completely.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, and Thomas grunts into my mouth before rolling off me and jumping out of bed. He looks at the time and curses.

“Fuck, I’m half an hour late,” he grumbles, pulling on his sweatpants. “Sorry, babe, that’s probably my friend who I was supposed to meet. I’ll send him on his way, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I need to get going anyway,” I realize when I see how late it is. “I need to be at work in half an hour.”

He nods, looking a little sheepish. “Right. Erm… I guess I’ll be in the living room then.”

This went from hot to awkward awfully fast.

I groan when I realize that I only have my slutty date outfit here, and that I will need to hop on a buss or grab a cab if I want to make it to work on time. I’ll just have to go to work in this walk-of-shame outfit and change into some scrubs when I get there. Or maybe Thomas has something I can wear? That actually sounds better. I’d rather show up at work in a man’s shirt and some sweats than in my skimpy black dress.

I grab a shirt of his that’s lying around and pull it on along with my bra and panties before stepping into the living room to ask him if I can borrow some clothes. Instead of Thomas, I find a stranger on the couch. He is tall and has great biceps, but he’s otherwise not that muscular. He has short messy dark hair and deep brown eyes. His skin is so white I’m pretty sure he would light up in the dark. His eyebrows go all the way up when he sees me, and his eyes travel up and down my body while he smirks.

“You must be Tracy,” he says, getting up to offer me his hand. “Nice legs.”

“And who the fuck are you?” I ask, feeling awfully exposed even though Thomas’ shirt falls way past my ass.


Oh, he’s the best friend and business partner. I remember Thomas talking about him back in the bar last night before we… well, before we came back here for what turned out to be a really hot, fun night. I haven’t been with anyone but Michel in years, and it felt strangely good to try something – someone – new. Thomas even got me off multiple times, which is no small feat. Before Michel, I slept with three other guys, and they weren’t exactly patient with me. One of the many things I love about Michel is that he never makes me feel like getting me off is a chore. And when I truly can’t get there, he still makes me feel good and accepts that it’s not happening that night without complaining about it.

Oh God, I’m still in the middle of the walk of shame and I’m already thinking about Michel.

“Where’s Thomas?” I ask, looking around like he will suddenly pop up from behind the couch or something. “I was hoping to borrow some clothes from him.”

“Way ahead of you, babe,” his deep voice sounds from behind me, followed by the door closing. When I turn around, I see him standing there with his arms full of what looks to be women’s clothing. The shirts seem too small and pink to belong to him. “My neighbor,” he explains. “I’ve got her key and she’s one of my best friends, so I know she won’t mind if I nick some of her stuff.” His expression is a little sad now. “Not that she’ll ever notice anyway, since she spends all her time at her boyfriend’s place.”

Ah. I’m the rebound. Good to know. It’s obvious from that one single comment that he’s got it bad for his neighbor. I don’t even mind, since it’s the same thing I am using him for. A distraction. Some good sex to feel better about myself.

Thomas dumps the clothes on the couch, and I pick out a pair of jeans that look like they might fit, a shirt, and a cardigan. While I rummage through the pile, Thomas turns to Dylan. “As you can see, my date went well. Very well. How was yours?”

Dylan laughs. “Not nearly as great as yours. Let’s just say that Bradly isn’t going to be my first boyfriend. Not even close. I got home early and watched Netflix the rest of the night. I’m so fucking pathetic.”

Bradly – oh, Dylan must be gay then. That’s not the vibe I got when he checked me out earlier, but maybe I was wrong for assuming that he his comment nice legs was sexually charged. I pull the wrinkled shirt I had on over my head and step into the jeans I picked out. It doesn’t fit perfectly, but it will do. When I bend over to pick up the shirt I want to wear, I see both guys looking at me with amused expressions.

“Are we getting a show with our breakfast?” Thomas asks, winking at me.

“It’s like you haven’t seen all of me already,” I shoot at him, rolling my eyes while I pull the shirt over my head. “And Dylan is gay, so why bother being modest?”

Dylan roars with laughter, pulling a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m not gay, honey.”

“But you just said-”

“Bisexual,” he cuts in, winking at me. “Still very much a fan of tits and pussies. So… thanks for the show, Tracy.”

Oh God. I feel my cheeks burning and pull the cardigan around me like it’s a shield. I’m not the most modest or shy person ever, but I don’t normally flash people I just met. I honestly figured that if Dylan went on a date with a guy last night, he must be gay and completely uninterested in my body. How narrow-minded of me.

“Is there a bus stop nearby?” I ask, changing the topic while I grab my heels from the hallway and put them on. They look ridiculous with the rest of my outfit, but they’ll have to do since I don’t have any other choice.

“You’re gonna make your date take the bus back home?” Dylan asks Thomas incredulously. “Classy, dude. Even miserable fucking Bradly dropped me back off at my place after being a dick to me.”

“I’m not going home, I need to get to work in…” I look at the time and curse. I’ve only got twenty minutes left. I will never make it. I will just have to let Peter and Delilah know that I’ll be late. Peter won’t be happy.

“I’ll drive you,” Thomas offers, getting up and grabbing his shirt from last night from the floor. He steps into his shoes, grabs his car keys and then he’s already waiting for me at the front door. He looks very appealing in his rumpled shirt and sweats, especially since I know he didn’t put on any boxershorts before pulling them on. I can’t believe he’s planning on taking me to work looking this sexy and like he should be in bed instead of in a car.

“Okay,” I decide, because it’s the only chance I’ve got at making it to work in time. “Thanks.”

“No stopping for blowjobs on the way!” Dylan yells after us.

Thomas gives me an apologetic smile when we step out into the building’s hallway and make our way to the elevator. “So… that’s my friend Dylan. He’s a little…”

“Exactly like you,” I finish his sentence.

“You mean hot and godlike?”

“No, I meant rude and cocky.”

Thomas grins. “When you’re as hot as I am, you can afford to be a little cocky.”

That makes me laugh. “True.”

The elevator arrives and we get in, me stumbling a little in my high heels. Thomas laughs at that and puts a hand around my waist to steady me. He feels good against me, all warm and strangely familiar after just one night. I realize that while I was only looking for a hook-up, I actually like him. Not in a be-my-boyfriend kind of way, but enough to want to see him again. That surprises me, since I’m still very much hung up on Michel.

Thomas’ car is a sleek, shiny black thing that looks extremely expensive. It doesn’t match with his long blonde mane, the tats, the piercings… He’s a contradiction is so many ways. A hot nerd who looks like he should be in a biker gang, but drives a fancy car instead. This guy is way more interesting than I thought he’d be.

“Your business must be doing pretty good for you to have a car like this,” I comment when I get in. He doesn’t walk around the car to let me in or anything, just letting me slide in while he takes his seat behind the wheel.

“Yeah, can’t complain.” He pulls up and winks at me before taking a right turn. “My parents weren’t too happy when I decided to start my own company when I was only 21, but they’ve come around since then. When Dad realized that I actually make far more in a month than he does, he stopped telling me I was wasting my life away. How do your parents feel about you being a vet tech? Is one of them a vet or something? You kinda look like the vet at the clinic. Is he your dad? Is it a family business?”

“What’s with the twenty question?” I grumble, looking out at the road.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” Thomas asks, surprised. “Sorry, Tracy.”

“It’s okay,” I say, taking a deep breath and brushing off the feelings of sadness. I plaster on a fake smile. “My parents are dead.”

“Fuck,” Thomas says, glancing at me before turning his attention back on the road. “Why are you smiling like a madwoman while you say that? Are you a sociopath?”

Despite everything, I laugh. I’m used to pity and a million questions about how they died. I prefer Thomas’ response.

“I don’t like talking about it,” I say with a shrug.

“Then we won’t.” Thomas takes the last turn and pulls up into the clinic’s parking lot. “Hey, I had a lot of fun with you last night. And this morning. Dylan and I have a launch party tonight for a company we created the website for. Wanna be my date?”

“S-sure,” I stammer. I honestly wasn’t expecting that, since it was totally obvious earlier that he’s only using me to get over his neighbor. Then again, I’m only using him to get over Michel, and I could sure use another night of Thomas’ fucking me into oblivion to get the job done.

“Sweet, I’ll text you the details later.” He leans in to kiss me, his hand tangling in my hair while his tongue explores my mouth.

Fucking hell, the guy can kiss. I moan into him even though I was trying not to, and put a hand on his thigh to steady myself, since I’m in an awkward position in the passenger’s seat, angled towards him. He grunts against me and bites my lower lip playfully.

“It’s a good thing I don’t need to get out of the car,” he says when we break apart.

“What?” I ask, a little out of it. “Why?”

He laughs and gestures at his sweats, where he is sporting a massive tent. Damn. Guess Dylan was right to warn us not to stop for blowjobs. I’ve only got two more minutes before I need to be inside, changing into my work scrubs.

Two minutes.

We could have a lot of fun in two minutes…

“What are you-” Thomas’ question is cut off by a grunt when he feels my hand move over his erection. “Tracy, Dylan was only kidding earlier. You don’t have to-”

“Oh, I’m not going to,” I say, not about to go down on him in broad daylight when clients and coworkers could easily walk by and see us. “Just giving you something to think about while I’m at work.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans, leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed. “Mission accomplished.”

I look around to make sure no one else is in the parking lot and then I slip my hand into his pants, wrapping my hand around his shaft and starting to jerk him off. I wish we could do more, since his kiss has me hot as fuck, but this will have to do. It’s kind of fun to drive him crazy like this, to feel powerful and strong. In control.

I like to be in control. A lot. I’ve been that way all my life, and it’s something that drove Michel crazy many, many times. Not so much in the bedroom, but in everyday life.

“Tracy, if you don’t stop right now, I’m gonna-” Thomas lets out a low groan when I pick up the pace. “I’m not kidding, babe, you need to-”

“Come,” I order, my voice hoarse with desire. “Now, Thomas.”

Almost immediately, I feel hot cum shooting out of his cock, staining his sweats and making my hand all sticky. When he’s done, I pull my hand out and wipe it off on his sweats. They’re already ruined anyway. His eyes fly open and he looks at me in utter astonishment.

“That was…”

“See you tonight,” I say, leaning in for a peck on the lips. “Work started a minute ago. I’m late.”

“Tonight,” Thomas agrees, looking down at himself with a shocked expression. “I will – erm – I will text you.”

“You better, or I’ll feel like a cheap hooker,” I tell him sternly, trying hard not to smile. He’s making me all kinds of bold and horny. I like that. It makes it hard to spiral into thoughts about how my life is a fucking mess.

Before Thomas can say anything else, I get out of the car and try not to fall on my face as I walk into the clinic in my hooker heels. I already know I won’t be able to stop thinking about Thomas all day long, and I’m extremely glad about that. The more I think about Thomas, the less I can think about Michel.

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