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Chanel 17 free porn video
I sigh heavily and finish taping up the last box. I didn't think I had that much shit, but the eight large, full boxes suggest otherwise. After Eugene dropped me back at Aaliyah's --after our daring stunt in the hills-- I decided to head home and start packing since I'd be paying the deposit on my apartment tomorrow.
I changed into some jean shorts and a tight tank top while I packed, and it took me most of the day, but it's done. I flop onto my bare mattress and stare at the ceiling. I feel a slight pang of despair thinking about leaving this place. I've lived here for a long time, so many memories. This has been my room on two separate occasions, my last boyfriend, Brian, stayed here for a short time with me on the most recent stint. All the times I’ve had friends over, barbecues, birthday parties. All the nights Ethan and I hung out in the basement.
Ethan...
I cover my eyes with my arm thinking about my friend. We got closer in more ways than I ever thought we would, and I’ve never felt so distant from him now. The guilt I thought I once lost courses through my nerves at the unmistakable feeling that this is all my fault. I may have had cynical thoughts in general these last seven days, but I’d be lying to myself if I said I hadn’t thought about Ethan 95% of the time.
I knew what we had wasn’t exclusive. I knew it wasn’t permanent to any degree, and I knew we weren’t together. But I also knew the unspoken nature of our ‘agreement’. Part of me felt like anything was possible. We were enjoying ourselves, and I say that with confidence. The times we laid together, the way his arms would hold me in an iron grasp like he never wanted to let go. His penetrating green eyes never escaped my notice, the way he would always stare right into my soul. I was never overly thoughtful in these moments, but every time I look back, I feel something there.
Even now, I know deep down that I still genuinely like Ethan. That was never lost. Hidden, perhaps, by my careless need to forget the drama. Every sexual tryst I’ve had over the last week was marred by thoughts of Ethan. How much bigger he was compared to Eugene, how his mouth satisfied me more, how well his hands contoured to my body. Of course Eugene pleased me, I’m not completely biased, but the connection I felt with Ethan was more pronounced, I can’t deny.
I thought I was a cultured, tolerant woman, but my behavior this last month has been cringe worthy. Now all I want to do is make it right. As if on cue, I hear the front door open upstairs. Ethan’s laughter echoes through the house down the stairs to my open bedroom door, and I hear someone with him. When their footsteps sound down the stairs, I figure now is as good a time as any to tell him I’m moving. Tomorrow.
I stand up and walk to my door, and when Ethan’s eyes meet mine, I see a flash of surprise before he gives me a neat, easy smile. God, he’s looking as good as ever in all his height and broad shoulders and dark hair. “Hey,” Ethan says taking a seat in his usual chair, a man following behind him, sitting on the couch. “Michael, Chanel. Chanel, Michael," he introduces me and the guy next to him.
“Nice to meet you,” Michael smiles at me, a little too friendly. His eyes rake over me subtly, but noticeably. He looks to be around the same age as Ethan, and he’s more lanky with blonde hair.
“Hi,” I reply with a smile. “Is this the Michael you work with?” I ask, knowing I’ve heard Ethan refer to a ‘Michael’ before.
“The very same,” Ethan says, reaching under the coffee table.
“What? You guys talk about me?” Michael asks with a snicker.
“Only about how ugly you are,” Ethan retorts, and we laugh. “Do you want to join?” Ethan ask, looking up to me and pulling out a sandwich bag filled with bud.
“Sure,” I reply, and walk to the couch, trying to show how friendly I intend to be. This is, again, the first time I’ve seen him in the last few days, and our last conversation wasn’t cotton candy and butterflies. Michael gives me a big grin and scoots down the couch so I can sit between them.
We get the television going and a bowl loaded when I finally decide to broach the subject. “So, I found a condo,” I say, taking the lighter from Ethan.
“Yeah? Where at?” Ethan asks, grabbing a controller.
“On 28th, not too far.”
“Right on, when you moving?” Ethan asks without batting an eyelash. He must feel the same about keeping the peace, and I ignore the feeling picking at the inside of my raw stomach.
“Tomorrow actually,” I reply, then light the green.
“Tomorrow?” The surprised tone in his voice placates some of the uneasiness and I internally roll my eyes at myself. I shouldn’t want him to miss me. I’m trying to fix things Chanel.
“Yeah, I found it earlier this week, met the woman yesterday, and she’s giving me the keys tomorrow. I can still help you with this month’s rent though, I wasn’t expecting to leave so soon.” I peek at Ethan as I pass Michael the pipe.
Ethan scoffs and smiles. “Don’t even worry about it. I’m glad you found something you want,” he says, some underlying emotion painting his words. I open my mouth to argue, but he throws me a pointed glance, and I now know I’m still not immune to his impressive anger. I keep my mouth shut.
“Do you need any help moving?” Michael asks after taking his hit.
“Well, I'll need to find a truck for my big furniture.”
“Michael has a truck, we can help you,” Ethan offers, and I smile.
“That’s very nice of you, thank you. Is tomorrow a problem?” I ask uncertainly, glancing at both of them.
“Not at all. I’ll follow Ethan home and meet you here,” Michael says. I feel slightly better about Ethan’s eagerness to help. Maybe our friendship is salvageable after all. We sit for a while discussing the perks of my new place and Michel's GMC Sierra. Once it gets late enough to be acceptable for bed, I tell them goodnight and pull myself from the couch, stoned as a rock. After I brush my teeth and exit the bathroom, I intercept a glance from Ethan that makes my stomach lurch, I don't know if it’s a good or a bad lurch.
My insides tell me it was bad as I lie in bed for the next two hours thinking about the man on the other side of the wall. 'Get the fuck over it', was my last thought before drifting off.
*
Two days later --after my new pad is thoroughly cleaned to my standards-- I invite Aaliyah, Dylan, Eugene and Taniyah over for a 'housewarming party'. I use the term loosely, as it wasn't to be much of a party. However, as thoughtful as my kick ass friends are, they all brought me shit for my new place. I don't have a ton of my own furniture, but at least I have a bed and a couch. Somehow, every time you move, someone's always getting rid of a couch, ya know? At least I still have my own flat screen.
We watch movies and eat the many dishes I prepared for company. If I’m gonna have a lame party, we all might as well eat good food. I finish my carne asada burrito, dispose of my used lime and laugh with Aaliyah when Dylan tells us some moron from work damn near let a customer drive off without tightening the lug nuts on their two rear wheels.
I walk into my living room shaking my head and see Eugene and Taniyah sitting next to each other. Smiling broad smiles at each other on my couch. Eugene glances at me and immediately, but subtly, leans away from Taniyah. I suppress raising my eyebrows and sit in my only chair.
“I did not know Eugene was an artist,” Taniyah tells me matter-of-factly, as if to fill me in on their conversation.
“You should see some of his stuff, he keeps the best for himself.” I smile at Eugene and he gives me his signature dimpled grin.
“I would love to, I’m not good at anything artistic,” Taniyah says longingly.
“You’re good at other things, so it makes up for it,” I tell her and she actually blushes.
“So you didn’t meet Eugene at that party at my old place?” I ask Taniyah.
“I think we talked, like, once,” she says unsure, looking to Eugene.
“Yeah, I don’t really remember seeing you there,” he replies. Surprising. They seem to be getting along just fine now. Aaliyah and Dylan join us and eventually everyone leaves.
“Do you want to stay?” I ask Eugene, the last one left after he bid farewell to Taniyah.
“I should probably go home, I have to get up early tomorrow.” I bite my lip and nod.
“Of course,” I reply. If he has other obligations, I’m certainly not going to hold him hostage. He takes the step closing the distance between us and caresses my cheek with his thumb.
“I’d love to see you later though,” he says, and gives me a chaste kiss. “Call me tomorrow,” he says, and walks out the door. I shake my head to dispel the awkward feeling and start cleaning.
An hour later I’m laying in my bed all alone and unsatisfied. There was a reason I wanted Eugene to stay. I sigh and lift my arm to rest on the pillow above my head and shut my eyes. I squirm slightly, attempting to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, then I shift again. Jesus this sucks. The hand on my stomach comes alive caressing the cotton against my skin. Eugene’s hands come to mind and my fingertips glide slightly lower. I imagine he stayed and wanted to please me. I move my arm from above my head and hook both my thumbs around the fabric against my hips.
With my eyes still closed, I slowly pull my panties down my soft thighs. When I’m naked from the waist down, I open my legs wide under the covers and drag my fingers back up the inside of my thighs. I feign hesitancy, then gently graze my finger against my already wet folds. I let out a small gasp and touch myself again. Eugene’s fingers, my fingers, part my lips and press against my clit.
I moan and grab my breast with my free hand and squeeze. Eugene fondles my clit with the slightest pressure and slides down to caress lower. Around and around, his finger circles my opening, making no headway into my tight hole. The base of my finger connects with my clit while I tease my inviting, slick cunt, wishing it weren’t my own hand.
I imagine him breathing in my ear, driving me mad with need. He adds another finger, touching me everywhere and I gasp. I press against my clit and glide down, making myself more wet. He’d want to feel it. He would want to know how wet he was making me, and would hold off no longer. The tip of my middle finger presses against my firm opening and forces it’s way in. I groan and slide my finger inside. My muscles grip my extremity tightly, glad to have some form of friction.
I start a rhythm, in and out, with excruciating slowness. The sensation in my groin sparks like a fire and I go faster. Suddenly, the face behind my lids changes from a dimpled smile to a darker, sexier image. Ethan’s face flickers through my mind and I moan loudly. I recall the first time I realized how green his eyes were, his face between my thighs, his dark hair in a graceful disarray. I remember how he bent me over the kitchen island and fucked me until I screamed his name. I remember recognizing the thickness of his arms and shoulders, his height, how substantial he felt when he held me...safe. I rub myself harder.
Thinking of his lips on my skin, the lust in his eyes, the way he groaned every time he was deep inside me. The deepest. The circular motion of my fingers is unbearably fast, and when I imagine him cumming furiously inside me, calling my name, I explode.
“Ethaaan,” I moan and arch my back as I feel my muscles pulse around his absent cock, aching, throbbing, begging for him. The waves of my orgasm lap at my insides, sweet sensitive relief. When I come down, I exhale harshly and relax into my mattress. I can’t move. I don’t want to. My body exhausted, my hand resting on my thigh, I don’t bother opening my eyes. I do find the energy to shake my head though, at myself. I’m completely ridiculous.
*
I leave the store with the newly purchased gift and hop in my car. I got off the phone with Eugene a few hours ago, and he seemed stressed out, so I want to surprise him. I bought him a nice set of brand new horse hair paint brushes in hopes to raise his low spirit. I haven’t seen him in five days, since he was at my housewarming party, and I'm fucking lonely. I need to do something, so I drive through the dark streets, hoping he didn’t go to bed early or some shit. I know he’s not really my boyfriend, which I’m totally fine with. But he’s the only guy I’m seeing right now, and I hated to hear him so low on the phone.
My 240 creeps to a slow stop by the curb in front of his house. His lights are on, his car in the driveway and I grin. I grab the bag, lock my car and walk up his drive. When I get to the door I hear music or a movie or something. I knock and wait, but I don’t think he heard, so I knock again. After half a minute, a subtle tingle runs up my spine. Should I go in? I have the feeling something’s wrong. I purse my lips and wait another moment. I look to my left trying to see through the front main window, but the curtains are drawn. Then I hear someone shout, and my panic over rules common courtesy and reason, and I turn the front door knob. I walk through the entryway and when I reach the end of the wall on my left, I look into his living room. My eyes about bulge out of my head.
Eugene is fucking Taniyah. Her ass is propped up on the arm of his leather couch, his hands gripping her thighs and she’s screaming obscenities. Their clothes are all over the place, his expensive stereo system playing rock music. I feel like I hit a corkscrew on a roller coaster. My head twitches in an odd move from side to side as I inhale deeply and turn for the door.
“Shit!” Eugene looks over to me before I can escape and I meet his eyes, guilt for walking in and confusion written all over my face.
“Oh my God!” Taniyah breathes, and scrambles back from Eugene, hiding her body behind the couch. I drop my head keeping my eyes safely averted, though I’ve seen them both naked plenty of times. This was something I was not meant to see.
“I am so sorry,” I say with my hand raised, palm toward them. “I uh, just came by to give you this.” I toss the bag on the floor between us. “And I heard someone screaming and I thought...I’m so sorry,” I say again, and head for the door. They don’t say anything, and I don’t take a last glance as I dash out of Eugene’s house. Neither of them try to stop me, for which I am grateful. I’m not entirely sure….of anything. Fuck. That was nuts. I start my car and drive off toward home.
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