By: Deana Farrady

Stage One: I can't control my cock.

Stage Two: I should control my cock.

Stage Three: I must control my cock.

Stage Four: How do I get back to Stage One again? (This stage, obviously, is not pertinent to any male in the Norrell line. Ask me about my grandpa and great-grandpa some time.)

The fact is, I lost my virginity at sixteen and I have not gone a month without fucking since. Sex is not optional for me. For a variety of reasons, which I may share later, keeping my life on track means keeping my cock happy.

End time out.

SO, GIVEN THAT AURA WAS MINE, I did what I usually did with her—I let my cock rule the day.

I kissed her, peeling off her clothes, and then stood back and soaked in the sight that never failed to get me hard—that incredible hourglass outlined in stretchy silk underthings.

I knew that in a few minutes, shit would be better. I'd lose myself in her pussy and forget everything for a while—this sorry-ass relationship, how fucking lonely I was, and most of all, I'd stop thinking about where I'd rather be right now.

Who I'd rather be with…

Forcing my mind away from That Person, I focused hard on my girlfriend's fantastic tits, and that's when I made my big, careless mistake.

"You have to be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I said.

Fuck me, I spoke without thinking.

Because, you know, to my hopeful brain, she was. Aura was the woman every guy on campus wanted. The first year I was with her, dudes kept hitting me up for estimates of when I'd be through with her.

But to just blurt it out like that…it's asking for trouble and I knew it. Because Aura might be a knockout, but Aura is also the. Most. Insecure. Woman. Ever. Created.

Aura's been on a diet since she was eleven. Aura has a different take on her body than me. I see a heaven of luscious curves. She sees bloating and cellulite. She exercises twice a day and follows every dieting blog ever written. Even ones written in Russian. She uses an online translator.

Yeah, my girlfriend has deep issues.

I really should have known better. My only excuse—exhaustion. I wasn't thinking clearly. I shouldn't have been surprised when her response was to push me away and burst into tears.

Then began the meltdown, right there in my foyer.

She was fat and ugly and couldn't fit into her New Years Eve dress anymore. She hated herself and I was a fool if I wanted a person like her. I should go fuck someone skinny, like my friend Charis Sloane.

She said all that shit and added that I couldn't possibly want her, I was just flattering her, blinded by my cock, and I only fucked her because I'd want anyone with a pussy.

So basically, yeah, after three years of being mine, one impulsive compliment and she's calling me a liar and a cheat and an indiscriminate manwhore.


I mean, she'd done it before. Only it was louder, I was same-timezone-jet-lagged, and I was fed up.

"I do want you," I gritted out.

"You think you do, but how can you? Your body is perfect. You don't understand, you can't understand what it's like to have to diet all the time, Ash."

"Dammit, I keep telling you, you don't need—" I cut myself off, but it was too late. Even more than she hated compliments, she hated being told I was fine with whatever weight she was.

A glint appeared in her eye. "All right, I deliberately didn't tell you this, because I know how stressed you've been lately, and I was afraid it would make you upset, but…I saw your Charis the other day."

"Sloane?" I blinked. "You saw Sloane?"

"Yes, Charis Sloane, your best friend. I ran into her at the student center." Aura looked up at me, her eyes now glistening with tears. "I know you keep telling me she's a nice person, and you probably won't believe me, you always believe your weird friend over me. But she always acts snarky with me, and that day…that day she called me ugly. It's the truth, I swear. She said the word. I knew she hated me, but I never expected that kind of viciousness."

I was skeptical. "That doesn't sound like Char. Are you sure that's what happened?"

"Oh, she said it, all right. You. Are. Ugly. On purpose. To hurt me, Ash."

I appealed to the ceiling gods, because how can you take this shit seriously? "You know what I think of you. It shouldn't matter what anyone else fucking thinks."

▶ Also By Deana Farrady

▶ Last Updated

▶ Hot Read

▶ Recommend

Top Books