scarlett abernathy

[scarlettabernathy]

jason-elkins​:

Everyone told me it was a mistake to live with the mother of my children when our relationship ended and at times I agreed. It isn’t that Scarlett was hard to live with, as we have managed to keep things civilized despite our disagreements, but it means I have to remind myself that she isn’t mine anymore. That I just can’t bend her over the kitchen counter and fuck her senseless until we forget about our fights. I’m not allowed to make her dinner and improvise a date at home because the babies can’t be alone, and I just can’t call her mine anymore. So far, I’ve managed to hold back, but after this morning and that god forsaken dress, i just couldn’t anymore. I waited until Scarlett left and got my computer, searching for some shitty porn movie on the internet that would somehow get me hard enough and maybe keep my mind away from my ex.

Except it didn’t.

Not only my first orgasm was unsatisfying to say the least, but I also didn’t stop. I kept going, knowing she would be home soon. My eyes flick to the door when Scarlett storm into my room, her face red with anger. Her expression quickly morphs into one of arousal when she notices I’m alone, lips parting and eyes darkening. “Come.” I beckons her over, working my hard cock with my fist slowly, groaning her name. Instead of leaving, Scarlett steps forward, her lip pull d between her teeth as she climbs into bed. “Let me taste you, babe.” I lean back against my pillow, watching her lips harden under her dress and her eyes searching mine. It takes her a few seconds, but she gently takes off her panties before climbing on top of me, giving me a perfect view of her pussy. “Fuck.” I growl, before I lap at her wet folds.

Every fiber of my being says that this is a bad idea, to turn away from the sight of my ex-boyfriend — the love of my life, in all honesty — with his hand wrapped around his cock. To turn on my heel, to go back to my bedroom and not into his, to stop myself from falling into familiar patterns as I crawl into his bed — every ounce of my sanity begs me not to do this, to stop myself from crossing that line with him. My mouth runs dry as I watch him, powerless to make myself move away from Jason and the temptation he offers. I open my mouth, the more rational part of my brain urging me to speak up, to tell him that we can't — to remind him that it was him who said we wouldn't work. But no words spill forth, and there's nothing I can do to stop myself from following his hand as it moves over his cock, touching himself as his gaze locks on mine.

I know before I move that I shouldn't do this, but I can't stop myself from walking towards him, lifting my dress with shaking fingers, just enough to flash him a view of my panties. I tug at the black lace, hooking them between my fingers, pulling them down my thighs and allowing them to fall to the floor in a crumpled pile. Neither of us says a word as I climb onto Jason's bed, my tits in his face for a moment as I move to straddle his hips, just looking down at him. For a moment, I wonder if he'll kiss me, close the distance between us to press his lips to mine, but he acts before I can, moving my hips above his eager mouth with a strong hand. "Jason," I breathe out, lifting my dress for him, to give him a better view of my pussy before his lips find my folds, sucking at me as his tongue slips inside of me. It's enough to have me panting within moments, my hips rocking forward against his mouth, unable to fight the arousal that's been building inside of me since I walked into his bedroom. "I need you.."

[scarlettabernathy]

The sounds of moans greet me as I walk into the apartment, and for a moment, it’s all I can do not to drop my car keys to the floor with an audible clatter. No doubt they would announce my entrance, something I’m fully entitled to, but I can’t even move. It’s like I’m paralyzed, frozen in place by the overwhelming gravity of my heartbreak. Hot tears brim at my eyes as I listen to the sounds, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the house, and I’m not going to lie, it hurts. Obviously, it’s been months — maybe six at the bare minimum — since Jason and I have slept together, telling ourselves after the last time, a rough fuck against the bathroom counter when we were both exhausted and emotionally drained from taking care of our twins, that we couldn’t make it work, but that doesn’t mean I wanted this. To come home after a long day of work, spent handling the whims of an angry boss — to hear the guy I’m stuck in an entanglement of sorts fucking someone else. It’s not what I wanted, and there’s not a part of me that doesn’t feel irrevocably shattered by this.

I want to scream, to storm into Jason’s bedroom, the one we used to share, and to tell him with every bit of bravery in my body that his whore needs to leave. The more rational part of me, the one that says think of our twins, of Ellie and Prescott, before I storm in there, loses out to my anger, to my hurt as I throw my purse onto the couch, arms crossed over my chest as I stomp towards Jason’s room. There’s not a part of me that doesn’t tremble with fear as I approach the doorway, the sounds of rough sex growing louder, the stupid girl’s moans growing louder, almost echoing into the hallway, but I push it open anyways. “Jason, what the—” I stop short, my cheeks flushing with color at the sight in front of me. Instead of finding my ex-boyfriend and the father of my children balls deep inside another girl in our house, I find him lounged on his bed, hand wrapped around his cock as a porn film plays on his flatscreen. “Oh my god, I’m so—” I step back, shaking my head, trying to get the sight of what I just interrupted out of my head because it was so far from being my business. But I can’t look away, my teeth digging into my lower lip as I look at him, at the sight of his cock, a sight so familiar to me that I can’t help but let out a ragged breath, once again, paralyzed and unable to move.