Peachtree Beauty

Chapter 4

"You like that?"

"Yes. Yes! Oh God! Yes!"

"Fuck yeah, you like that," Pete calls as he slams in again, yanking a leg higher into the air at an angle I didn't think was humanly possible. I wince. Seriously, is the human body meant to bend that way?

"Fuck me..."

"That's what I'm doing baby."

"Pete?" I stammer out, my brain spinning to take in the scene before me.

"That's right. Say my name."

"PETE!" I screech.

"Wha?" Pete stammers. His hips are still bucking, and I wince again as Pete's rhythm goes off kilter when he swings his head around to see me standing in his open doorway.

"Fuck! Audrey!" Pete yells, half stumbling, half falling off of the bed and out of the girl who is definitely not me.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, using the bed and the nightstand to steady himself. An avalanche of cups tumbles to the floor, disturbed by Pete's flailing. "I thought you had your discussion section."

"My T.A. cancelled, I think he fucked up his dissertation." My voice sounds robotic to my own ears. A weird sensation settles over me, and I feel like I am watching the scene from outside of my body. My eyes zero in on Pete's still erect dick, glistening with the juices of another woman. Pete isn't wearing a condom. He always complains about me making him wear a condom. I'm not sure what makes my brain note the lack of prophylactic as I continue explaining my presence to my boyfriend.

"I thought I'd surprise you and we could go for It's FRI-ed-rice-DAY so say sake it to the week," I explain. I think I'm in shock.

"Fuck," Pete repeats.

"Yeah, I think you're already doing that."

Pete glances down at his dick, seeming to realize he is standing there with his most favorite appendage hanging in the wind for me to take my anger out on when I snap out of this daze. Pete's hand shoots out, yanking a pillow out from under the girl. Her head is still bouncing on the mattress as Pete places the pillow in front of his groin. Pete's hands clamp onto the front of the pillow, forming a padded cup over his weakest point. I catch his fortification out of the corner of my eye, my focus staying on the girl. An annoyed look darkens her faces, but she does not cover herself. A cascade of red curls, a shade that you can't find in nature, spills across her face before fanning out on the bed around her. Her naked breasts bounce with every heavy breath she sucks in. They've been going at it hard, or she is out of shape, but she doesn't look out of shape right down to her... is... is that... huh. She has a bedazzled crotch. Well, that isn't something you see every day. How do they even stay on? The girl arches her back up off the bed, drawing attention to her crotch. I let out a little squeak, my eyes flitting up past her face, noticing her arms are bound to the headboard over her head.

"Are those our cuffs from O Brother, Where Art Thou?" I ask, now that my eyes are off the jeweled vagina and focused on the headboard. "The cuffs from the night we met?" The question feels stupid the moment I ask it, but I still need to know.

"Umm, listen..."

"Baby, Petey, who the fuck is this?" The girl moans, arching her back and angling her sparkling crotch at Pete. Her move has the intended effect; Pete's eyes snapping down to the uncarpeted space. His attention lingers for a second.

"She's um..." Pete stutters. It is easy to figure out which head has all the blood right now.

"I'm his girlfriend." I snap. The disassociated foggy feeling is dissipating, and my ire is rising. "Who are you?"