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“Why, Fester, is that a…Harry Winston piece that I see?” Debbie’s blue eyes blinked lovingly, not at her uncle but at the set of diamond jewellery that he laid before her.
“All 129 carats of purple sapphire and diamonds, mon cher,” he grinned.
“And what about the rubellite cluster earrings?” Her gold-digging eyes were sparkling so brightly in the light that Wednesday wanted nothing more than to gouge them out with a rusty fork.
Uncle Fester’s entire body stilled. “E-earrings, my love?”
“Yes,” Debbie’s voice immediately iced over. “I told you, a special necklace needs to go together with the right earrings. Didn’t I?”
“I-I…” her uncle began to stutter. He stole one look at the blonde, took a deep breath, and continued. “I’ll fly back to New York right this weekend. Let me schedule another appointment with them, settle some business, and bring those babies back to you, pumpkin.”
Debbie didn’t even smile. “For that mistake and keeping me waiting, I’m expecting an extra bracelet as an apology. I want the latest design.”
“Bracelet?”
“Platinum diamond. This time, don’t. Get. It. Wrong.” She punctuated each word.
“O-of course.” Fester tried to embrace Debbie, but the woman was already picking up her necklace and making a beeline for the nearest mirror. As she left the room, she threw Wednesday, who’d simply been standing there observing this insanity, a cold, sideways look but did not bother herself to stop. It made Wednesday want to roast her severed head over an open flame like a marshmallow.
Over the last two months, Deborah “Debbie” Jellinsky had single-handedly turned her family upside down. She, in all of her 5 foot 9 of manicured nails and fake boobs, had strolled into the Addams family household via Fester’s heart, claiming love at first sight and pure intentions with the eccentric man. Wednesday had not bought a single second of this. Still, it could not stop Debbie and Fester from convincing her parents to go on a world tour to curb their wanderlust, essentially leaving Debbie as the lady of the household, especially when Fester is away on business. With her uncle away and her brother at school, Wednesday, who’d been working as a writer for the past year since graduation, had found herself left to fend against the Hollywood Barbie alone. Although perhaps it is as well, for she’d found Debbie snooping around at odd hours of the day, trying to dig into nooks and crannies of the house to find safes or jewellery. Wednesday had assured her the most she’d see is a dead body or two if she continued her search.
Debbie only smiled wickedly at her. It did not amuse Wednesday.
To add to the dire situation, Uncle Fester had stupidly gone on one knee a mere 2 weeks after knowing the woman in the middle of the family living room. Since even Lurch was gone to act as her parents’ chauffeur and Thing was accompanying Pugsley at school, only Wednesday had the sheer misfortune of witnessing this. Needless to say, she strapped herself to the electric chair and gave herself a good zap that same night. It did not erase the memory, adding to her frustration.
She’d tried everything, from stern talks with her uncle to outright threats. When Fester refused to listen to reason, she’d gone and tried to plan Debbie’s murder, but it always ends up either intercepted or Debbie simply doesn’t walk into them. It’s not like she wants Uncle Fester to be alone. Her uncle may be the family’s black sheep, but underneath the kookiness lies a kind, albeit naïve nature which Debbie, of all girls, does not deserve. Wednesday would rather he be alone than be sucked dry of his riches on top of having his heart broken. She won’t even put it past the woman to not try and murder her uncle after the wedding is done. In fact, from how she handles a knife, slicing it precisely into fruit without so much as needing to look at what she’s doing, Wednesday is quite sure of it.
Now, with only a month left to the ‘wedding of the century’…or so as Debbie coins while she extorts more diamond pieces and spa appointments out of Uncle Fester, Wednesday is faced with the continuous predicament – How to get rid of Debbie Jellinsky. She knows she’s going to have to try something else other than persuasion and murder, but what?
As Wednesday sits in the Weathervane for the fifth afternoon in a row, trying to concentrate on writing while hatching a plan (and failing spectacularly on both ends), her head is pounding so hard she wants to rip it off her neck.
“You okay?” someone pushes a coffee cup toward her.
She looks up and sees local barista Tyler Galpin, then points her eyes back at the hot garbage she spewed on paper. “Fine. Just busy.”
When Tyler pulls the cup away, her hand flies out to stop him. “Unhand the quad.” She heard him chuckle but was too occupied downing the beverage like a shot to care what expression he had on.
“5 days in a row. That’s a record.” She could hear the smile through his words.
It is indeed, Wednesday thought to herself. She’s never had such a hard time trying to get rid of someone, although she’s pretty confident Tyler was referring to the number of times she’s been coming into the café. He sounded so amused she could visualise him in her head without even seeing his face, all lopsided grin and boyish charm dialled to the max, but this was not the time to be distracted.
Everyone has a weakness somewhere, and she needs to stay focused.
She recalled the first time she started frequenting the Weathervane. Wednesday had known of the café, occasionally having Lurch swing by just so she could grab a coffee (they make decent ones, if she has to admit). Ever since Debbie moved into the mansion and began making her presence known, it has disrupted her peace of mind, rendering her unable to get any writing or plotting done, thus driving her to the Weathervane. The woman wears pastels around the house and openly flirts with any half-decent men who show up at their door, from the pizza delivery guy to the electrician. Meanwhile, she never treated her Uncle Fester with more than an ounce of affection unless she wanted another expensive gift.
It made Wednesday boil on the inside. Her uncle would be better off marrying a chair than this vile woman.
Then, an idea struck her.
Debbie, flirting with the pizza guy in front of her eyes. She may be after the Addams’ money, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have other needs. And Wednesday had a feeling she was not looking to Uncle Fester to satisfy them.
The plan would be straightforward. Get a guy to sleep with Debbie, capture the evidence, and show it to her Uncle Fester. It would break his heart, but Wednesday would take that any day than have him wind up heartbroken, broke, and dead. He’ll get over it eventually, and when he does, he’ll thank Wednesday for helping him open his eyes.
Now, all she needs to do is find someone to seduce Debbie.
Wednesday finally looked up from her typewriter to scan the café for the first time in…she can’t remember. Usually, she comes right in and sits at her usual booth, and everything else is background noise. She gazes across the floor, using Pizza Guy as a gauge. The fair-skinned guy was young, perhaps 20, and was undoubtedly younger than Debbie, who is at least 30. Immediately, Wednesday began eliminating the males who didn’t fit the bill and those who seemed to be attached.
She’s left with a total of two male customers. She didn’t know if they’d be up for it, but she’ll wager that she could easily change some minds with a nice wad of cash.
Just as she was preparing to get up to march over, internally hoping that they wouldn’t run from her the way people usually do, she heard a female giggling from a short distance away.
“And you’re single? How?” The caramel blonde arched her entire body into the counter, and it looked like it should’ve hurt.
“Yeah.” Tyler didn’t look up from the espresso machine, although he had his service staff smile on. “I dunno, you tell me.”
Fair-skinned, young, single, has girls fawning all over him.
Perfect.
Tyler hadn’t looked particularly mad that Wednesday had gone and ruined Caramel Blonde’s flirting with him. On the other hand, Caramel Blonde looked livid when she went over and dragged Tyler out to the back alley, but she can suck it. Wednesday had more pressing matters at hand, like saving her uncle.
“Wednesday, I’m in the middle of a shift-”
“I’ll pay you 5 grand to sleep with my aunt-to-be.”
Tyler pulled his head backwards, so suddenly she was afraid he might sprain it. “I’m sorry, but what?”
Oh, he thought he misunderstood. “Sleep with her; let me capture the evidence, and $5000 is yours. I can pay you $1000 right now as a deposit, but that’s all I’ve got on me. The rest is at home.” Wednesday began digging into her coat pocket, but Tyler’s hand shot out to stop her.
“Hold on. Back it up a little for me here. What’s this about?”
The thought of Debbie raised her irritation again. She spilt everything about the last several weeks that led her to this decision to the barista, who listened to every word. Tyler had his hands on his hips when she was done, seemingly processing.
“No wonder you’ve been coming in so often. And here I thought…” he started to say, then cut himself off. After a moment, he continued. “But we don’t know if this will work, right?”
“She likes men, just not my Uncle Fester.” She gave him another once-over. “She’ll probably like you.”
“Listen, Wednesday, I’m flattered, and I hate to break it to you, but I’m not a prostitute.”
“I’ll make it 8 grand. I can assure you Debbie fits the regular…beauty standards if that’s what you’re worried about.” An icy shudder ran down her spine when Debbie, in her hideous pastel clothes, invaded her mind.
Tyler stared at her, and that’s when she knew she’s got him seriously thinking about it. Tyler Galpin may be popular with girls and easy on the eyes, but if there’s anything he lacks, it’s definitely money. Otherwise, he won’t be stuck in the Weathervane taking extra shifts trying to scrape together pennies. He’d once told Wednesday his plan after all. Once he saves enough, he wants to eventually get out of this deadbeat town. Doesn’t matter if it takes him a year or two or five.
“Look, I’m not saying no, but you could find any other guy. Why me?”
Because you feel more familiar, you always give me free quads, and you don’t shun me like everyone else? And you need the money. If I should pay anyone $8000, I’d rather it be you.
Wednesday thought about this, but none of the words left her lips. Instead, she replied irritably. “So, do you want the job or not? Besides, you don’t actually have to sleep with her. Just make it look like she’s cheating on my uncle, and the money’s yours.”
Tyler rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, clearly in some inner turmoil. He eventually relents after what feels like a full minute, just like she thought he would.
“Fine. How do we do this?”
The end of her lips curved into a smile. “Let me think about it. It would be best if you got back to your shift. I think your manager’s looking for you.” Wednesday could see over Tyler’s shoulder how his manager’s eyeballs were burning into the barista’s back through the glass window. “In the meantime,” She started digging for the $1000, but Tyler touched her on the arm to stop her.
“We don’t have to do this now. You can pay me after it’s done. I will…see you again tomorrow. To go over this?”
She nodded once, then watched him leave. Now, all she has to do is make sure this works, and before they know it, Debbie will be out of their hair once and for all.
The plan was ready in no time. In fact, Wednesday had laid awake the entire night, devising it in her head and going through it repeatedly. When she walked through the Weathervane’s doors the next day, she eagerly shared it with Tyler, who looked at her like (a)he can’t believe he’s really doing this and (b)impressed that she actually came up with a full-blown scheme so quickly.
“You really hate her, don’t you?” he raised an eyebrow at the step-by-step instructions she’d written on paper.
“So much so that I want to dig her ancestors up just to bury them again.” She looked back up at his face. “What do you think? We’ve already had an electrician and gardener come by over the last month, so it’s too soon. A plumber would work better.”
“I’m not a plumbing expert, though...”
Wednesday all but waved him away. “We have a toolkit in the house. I’ll leave it at the gate tomorrow before you arrive. Do you have a jumpsuit to look the part?”
“Uh, I think I might be able to find one-”
“Then that settles it. Tomorrow, 11 AM, my house.” She pointed to the address at the end of the paper she gave him. “Debbie usually steps out of the house by 12 PM for her waxing appointment at the latest. Don’t be late.”
Despite fair warning, Tyler Galpin did turn up late —2 minutes, to be precise. Wednesday has an inkling that this may or may not have to do with the fact that she buried the toolkit near a poison ivy bush, but when Tyler showed up at their doorstep in a dark long-sleeved jumpsuit, tucking a pair of gloves away into its pocket, all other thoughts dissipate, and it is Operation Catch-Debbie-in-the-Act.
“Wednesday,” Debbie strutted in her heels towards the door. “Who’s this?”
“Hi, I’m Ty from Easy Plumbing & Heating.” Tyler put on his megawatt smile. He half-held up the toolkit with one hand and stuck the other out towards Debbie, who took it with a pleasant raise of an eyebrow. “I got a call about a clogged kitchen sink?”
Wednesday acknowledged it. “Yes. I might have washed down Walter’s body parts and caused that.” Both Tyler and Debbie looked at her.
“Walter is an American bullfrog. He willingly sacrificed himself for dissection. I had consent.”
Debbie gave her a look of displeasure before returning to Tyler with a 180-degree change in attitude. “I’m Debbie. Never mind her. Let me show you to the kitchen.”
Wednesday gladly let Debbie do all the honours. The sink is perfectly clogged, and the cameras are already all in place – now, Tyler needs to turn up that charm and hopefully charm Debbie’s panties off so that she can capture every bit of evidence she needs. Debbie made sure to close the doors to the kitchen, but it didn’t matter. As if a flimsy set of doors can keep Wednesday Addams from snooping.
As she peeked through the narrow gap, she saw Debbie showing Tyler the kitchen sink and him setting the toolkit down on the floor. When he rolled his sleeves up, ready to work, she saw Debbie run her eyes all over him, mostly settling on his broad shoulders and arms. It’s nothing that Wednesday has never seen before; Tyler had always been well-built. She’d known it all along, yet for the first time, she felt an irritation that she couldn’t understand seep through.
Wednesday blamed the kitchen for being too huge because the sink was a distance away, and she couldn’t hear most of their conversation. Sure, the cameras hidden nicely in the cabinets would pick up any conversation, and she could replay it later, but it annoyed her that she couldn’t know right now. All she could hear was Debbie laughing, putting her hands on Tyler, and he basically reciprocating by not swatting it away. It made her roll her eyes. Debbie was still yapping away as Tyler bent to look under the sink. It is then that Wednesday was forced to put her feelings aside because Tyler clearly looked lost.
He fumbled around the toolkit and took a while to identify the wrench (but at least he got the tool right). It also took him ages to remove the pipes, and when he did, the next mistake came quickly. Tyler had forgotten to put a bucket below because when the pipes came off, all of Walter spilt out onto the cabinet. Some of it got onto him as well.
“Holy shit. I’m so, so sorry.” Tyler begins panicking, his voice raised.
Normal Debbie would’ve thrown a hissy fit. Horny Debbie, who seldom used the kitchen sink anyway, did not.
“It’s fine! It was an accident. We should get you cleaned up first.” Debbie yanked the paper towels off the holder, but she did it herself instead of passing them to Tyler. Helped him wipe his hands and arms while batting her curled eyelashes up at him with a smirk and words of comfort. Wednesday watched with a clenched jaw as Tyler smiled down at the blonde, albeit uncomfortably, as if all he wanted to do was disappear. The moment Debbie began putting a hand on his chest, squeezing a bicep experimentally, he politely took a step back, mumbled something, and started to walk away. Of course, Debbie couldn’t resist calling out to him.
“You can take that jumpsuit off and wash up!” Then she adds a little more sweetly. “I can help.”
“That’s nice of you, ma’am but uh, I can do it myself. May I know where’s the bathroom?”
Tyler let himself out of the kitchen, and Debbie nearly crashed into him at the speed she came bolting out. Neither spotted Wednesday, who had her back pressed against the wall.
“The nearest is the first one down the hall, to your left. Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
“Yeah, positive.” Wednesday heard a door close.
“I’m very good with my hands,” Debbie said shamelessly from the outside. Wednesday forced the bile to go back down. She finds herself hoping Tyler won’t open the door.
“I’m good! I don’t want to take up too much of your time, so if you have somewhere else you need to be, I’ll just wash up, clean up the mess in the kitchen and leave. If that’s okay with you.”
“Oh, I don’t have anywhere to be- shit. My waxing appointment.” Wednesday heard Debbie curse out loud. Then she sighs. “Well, perhaps another time, then. If I have other…needs, I’ll remember you, Ty.” She began strutting off, clearly sexually frustrated and not having gotten her fill. She passed by Wednesday, her lips still pointed down in an unhappy sulk, before picking her purse up and leaving the house. Wednesday moves quickly to the bathroom.
She did the paranormal knock – 3 knocks in rhythm, and Tyler opened up. He must’ve caught on that Debbie won’t be one to knock like that.
“Hey,” he greeted her tiredly. His hair was dishevelled like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times in the past minute. Wednesday fought the urge back to ask if he was okay.
“Debbie left for her appointment,” she informed.
“Great.” He sounded like he didn’t care. Instead, he’s bent over the basin, trying to wash any leftover remains off his hands.
“I’ll check the cameras later for any…compromising angles. But…,” Wednesday took a deep breath. “If it’s not convincing, we will have to do it again. It has to be worth every cent that I’m paying.”
Tyler flicked his eyes up to meet hers in the mirror as he dried his hands on a towel, and for a second, her heart stopped. He didn’t say a word, but she could sense a kind of dark displeasure radiating off his skin.
She takes a step toward him, a slight furrow between her brows. Tyler slaps the tap shut and turns around to face her, back leaning against the countertop. She’s not used to him being this unsmiling. He’s usually so approachable and friendly at the Weathervane. But at the end of the day, she’s the one forking out the money. She gets to call the shots around here.
“Tyler, do we have a problem?” She angled her face upwards to assert her dominance over his taller frame.
“I don’t know if I can…or should do it again,” he points those hazel eyes down at her, crossing his arms.
“And why not?”
He made a face at her. “I already told you I don’t have plumbing experience, neither am I some master seducer, but you didn’t listen.”
“Girls are always fawning all over you at the café.”
“Doesn’t make me a man-whore.”
“You don’t have to screw her if you don’t want to. You could’ve at least reciprocated when she put her hand on you.”
“Reciprocated how?” Tyler straightens his body some more, completely towering over her. His presence felt like danger, but none of the alarm bells went off in her head.
Her tone is a lot less biting than she’d have liked. “At least lean in. Do I have to teach you what to do?”
Wednesday’s breath hitches in her throat the moment Tyler bends towards her. He’s so close she can feel the warmth radiating from his body or count every eyelash if he lets her.
“Like this?” His voice dropped, coming out thicker and rougher than usual. His gaze trailed from her lips to her eyes in a slow, almost agonising crawl. Wednesday’s reply surprised not just him but herself — An indignant near-whisper.
“Closer.”
Whatever irritation Tyler was feeling earlier was dissipated entirely and replaced by amusement. He leans even closer to her, noses touching, lips almost grazing. Bringing a hand up to cup her jaw as if to lock her in place, Tyler tilted his head to capture her lips in what must be the most intoxicating kiss she’d ever experienced. It was both sensual and hungry, as if he wanted nothing more than to devour her but couldn’t go all the way, not for a first kiss. He shifts his body, further invading her personal space by circling an arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. He breaks the kiss only to ask.
“Tongue?”
Wednesday nods, eyes dropping to his lips while parting hers to let him roll his tongue against hers. Tyler took his time to explore every corner of her moist cavern. He licked into it dirtily, sucked on her warm flesh like it was a lollipop, and claimed her lips with an indescribable urgency that only made the heat grow in her nether region. He threaded his fingers into her hair and yanked her head back, eliciting a needy whimper that sounded entirely unlike her as he trailed his kisses down to her jaw, neck, and collar. He sucked so hard on her skin that there was just no way that it wouldn’t bloom into the most stunning blue-black by the night. Then, he laved his tongue up the entire column of her throat till he reached her lips and kissed her once more, before loosening his hold. The pain had felt so welcomed she didn’t even realise it until he let go.
“How’s that? Close enough for you?” she didn’t miss the gleam in his eye. She could see her reflection in the mirror behind him, how puffy and red her lips were from their making out. All the blood had rushed nicely to the surface after what must have been the hottest make-out session she’d ever get, and strangely, somehow, she wanted more.
Wednesday watched how his smirk was replaced by something else entirely when she spoke. “Could be better. It will take more than a kiss and a few hickeys to break my uncle’s heart and for you to earn $8000.” No matter how good and mind-numbing that kiss had been.
Her taunt earned her one thing. Tyler’s hands were on the sides of her body, spinning them around until her back pressed against the cold marble, where he lifted her onto the countertop.
“Is this-” he put his hands on her thighs to spread them apart slowly, “what you’d like me to do to Debbie?” He stepped forward and moved one of his hands underneath her skirt. The distinct damp patch on her panties gave everything away (darn her traitorous human body) because now Tyler knew. Knew that he got her all turned on after one make-out session.
A moan escaped her lips as Tyler pushed her panties aside to insert a finger. He watched her lean her head back against the wall, part her lips as he finger-fucked her nether ones viciously while his other hand rubbed her clit in torturous circles. Having her drip all over his hand must be fun for him because she can see, through lidded eyes, how pleased Tyler must be. His hand can’t stop pumping, his mouth is half open, and he’s so hard she could see the apparent tenting against the polyester of his jumpsuit.
“Only one?” she egged wickedly despite her soft pants. “I’m not sure if the audio will pick anything up.”
It takes Tyler pushing her skirt up and ripping her panties for it to hit her that maybe she’d gone a little too far. She only wanted to light a flame under him, get him to realise that he could’ve done better on the seduction front. But as Tyler lowered his mouth to clamp it over her clit while pushing not one, not two, but three fingers into her, she realised she might’ve started a fire – and it was raging.
Tyler sucks like a man starved on her sensitive bud, swirling his tongue around it, occasionally even biting, as he stretches her walls with every pump of his fingers. She could feel him curl those digits inside, causing her to scream so loud and throw her head back that she hit her head against the wall, but every sensation, every nerve-ending felt so electrifying that she didn’t, couldn’t stop herself. Wednesday tangled her hands into the curls of his hair, tugging so hard his scalp must tingle, but it didn’t seem to faze him. At some point, he removed his hands to keep her legs forcefully pried apart (she hadn’t even realised she’d been clamping them against the sides of his head), just so he could tongue-fuck her better. As much as she loved his determination, Wednesday knew she was on the precipice of what might be an earth-shattering orgasm.
“T-Tyler, you have to- oh fuck,” she couldn’t stop herself from rocking into his face despite trying to issue a warning. “I’m gonna come. You should- shouldn’t-” Her sentences were hardly coherent, but the thing about an impending orgasm is that you just can’t think.
“Should I or should I not?” his eyes darted up suddenly to meet hers. He reached a hand up to snake under her top, grabbed at her naked breast, and thumbed a nipple, feeling it peak nicely underneath his touch. “Let you come?”
Yes, she screamed in her head. Fucking hell, yes-
“I’m so close,” she panted. “I-I’m going to, if you keep doing that-”
“This?” Tyler covered her clit with his mouth and gave it another hard suck. “Or this?” He gave her entire pussy an agonising, languid lick. “Or this?” His tongue darted into her soaked cunt, exploring it eagerly as he brought a hand back up to rub furiously at her clit.
It sends her tipping over so quickly, so ferociously she nearly died and saw her grandmama. The orgasm rips through her entire body, and she can feel it, her coming all over Tyler Galpin’s delicious, talented mouth. And there he was, lapping between her folds, drinking her juices like they were the sweetest essence. Taking his time with her as her screams slowed into heavy breathing. She hadn’t even noticed him take her hand until her vision returned, and she saw their hands intertwined.
If a camera had been planted in the bathroom, that would have passed the decibel limit.
Wednesday thought about saying it. Ask him why he didn’t put on this hell of a performance when Debbie was around. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she shot a defiant gaze up at him.
“If that’s all you’ve got-” her head was still a mess, her body still feeling the after-effects of the orgasm Tyler had just given her.
“Who says I’m done with you?” He did it again, brought a hand up to cup her face, and crashed his lips onto hers. It’s maddening how easily she welcomed him. She could taste herself on his tongue, and in retaliation, she bit down on his lower lip, hard enough that it drew a bit of blood, making him hiss. He drags her body down from the countertop and spins her around so that the front of her body is now bent over the marble instead.
Her body shuddered as he pulled her skirt down, kicked her feet farther apart, and she heard, saw in the mirror’s reflection, him unzipping his jumpsuit next. His gaze is wet as he takes a step towards her, pressing his hard length against her naked ass.
“I don’t have a condom with me, but I’ll pull out. Is that okay?” His palm is large and warm on her hip.
“I must say, you aren’t the best employee. You knew you were hired to sleep with Debbie, yet you don’t even bring a condom. This is not how-”
Her words evaporate, turning into a long groan the moment she felt Tyler push himself into her. She could feel every inch, every vein that lined his length as he invaded her bit by bit. He didn’t even let her finish her sentence.
“Didn’t hear a no.”
Her hand flew to grip the edge of the ceramic basin for support, her mind entirely blank except for her body’s base instinct telling her to breathe; he was so big, throbbing inside her, that it made her clench her walls around him involuntarily, trying to accommodate his size. Tyler inhaled sharply as she did that.
“You're so tight,” his thighs met hers, indicating how completely sheathed he was inside of her. “And so wet for me.”
He barely gave her any time to adjust when he started to move, beginning to slowly thrust into her. She could feel every movement, him guiding himself in and out of her soaked pussy easily until he was no longer willing to do it slowly or gently. He placed a hand on her shoulder, let out a chuckle, and began to pound savagely into her tinier body.
Never would she have guessed that all those times she spent sitting in her booth at the Weathervane that it would lead her up to this moment: Jericho’s golden boy, the one that had most teenage girls swooning, now bending her over in her family home’s bathroom as he plundered her pussy, the sounds of their laboured breathing and sex mixed together in an erotic symphony. The way he had her arching her back as he drove into her from behind, the force sending ripples across the skin of her ass, feeling unbelievable, unlike any high she’s ever had before. She can’t think of a single self-torture technique that topped what Tyler Galpin is giving her.
And he keeps on giving.
“Look at you.” A deep thrust, one followed by another, sending courses of electricity surging through her body. She forced her eyes to refocus on their reflection in the mirror, and all she sees is a typically stoic girl getting the best fuck of her life. Her face is all flushed, her mouth half-open, and Tyler has nothing but pure lust and bliss written all over his. She hadn’t even realised that he’d repositioned his hands until she saw it in the mirror, moaning at the exact time when she’d realised that he was pinching her nipples. An orgasm rips through her right there and then that if Tyler hadn’t had his hands encircled around her to keep her up, she would’ve likely melted on the spot.
“You just came all over my cock,” Tyler couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stop fucking her through her orgasm. His kisses on the side of her face, neck, and shoulder felt so good, but once she came down from her high, she was hit with another bout of realisation.
“You did it,” she breathed. “You’ve proven yourself.”
“What are you talking about?” He couldn’t stop peppering kisses on her skin.
“Proven that I’m mistaken about your abilities and that you can screw my aunt-to-be.”
Tyler completely stilled. The following line he utters is entirely unexpected.
“Did you not think I don’t want to fuck her because I don’t like her?”
Wednesday’s eyes meet his in their reflection, but her throat is dry. For once, she doesn’t have an instant comeback. She tries to break down his words but doesn’t understand.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Tyler grabs her chin to angle her face towards his so they aren’t doing this through a mirror reflection. “I don’t want to fuck anyone else but you, Wednesday.”
Her breath was shaky as he lifted one of her legs to allow him better penetration as he resumed what they had been doing. He didn’t give her any time to think about his words or what all of this, this arrangement that they have now meant to her. Still, she couldn’t help but admit to herself the bit of relief that settled on her when he said those words.
I don’t want to fuck anyone else but you, Wednesday.
“T-Tyler,” she groaned his name. Every bit of her body was shaking, and it didn’t matter that she’d just come because the pleasure was mounting again each time the tip of his cock hit that one spot inside her. “Please, Tyler.” She didn’t have to spell out what she wanted. They both already know.
“I love it when you...when you say my name like that,” Tyler kept his punishing pace up but from the way his brows pinched together and the way his movements were becoming more erratic, she could guess.
“Come in me,” her legs were close to giving out, but they were both so impossibly close.
Just a little more.
“I-I shouldn’t,” he said indignantly, but Wednesday kept her tone insistent.
“Didn’t hear a no.” She repeated what Tyler said to her before. He caught onto the reference and laughed, and oh god, she’s doomed because that actually made her heart skip a tiny beat.
“I really…really fucking want to, but-”
“-I’m coming, Tyler.” She didn’t even have the willpower or energy to concentrate on anything other than this overwhelming pleasure that was about to tip over.
“Me too.” He clung onto her so tightly that she was sure her arms, waist, hips, ass, basically every inch of skin that he was grabbing onto roughly was going bruise in the next few hours. “I’m gonna come inside you.”
The madness was too much to bear. The world went white, and Wednesday's cries didn’t even sound like her own as her body trembled violently with the third orgasm Tyler gave her in one afternoon. As she felt a satisfying heat grow within her, she supposed three orgasms weren’t all that he’d given her. She didn’t know how long she stayed silent, solely concentrating on listening to the sounds of their breathing, until Tyler broke that concentration by putting her leg down and slipping out, causing some of his cum to begin trickling out and down her inner thigh.
Wednesday turned herself around, struggling with her legs to steady her body weight. Her stomach, pelvic muscles, and entire nether region ached as she did.
She had to ask. “You didn’t do this for the money?”
“The amount was enticing, don’t get me wrong,” Tyler helped brush the stray hairs stuck to her face out of the way. “But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to.”
An unfamiliar warmth bloomed in her chest. “I should get cleaned up.” Her voice came out sounding softer than she had hoped.
“Let me help.” Tyler cocked his head towards the bathtub. It sounded like a terrible, potentially unproductive plan, but they were both sweaty. Tyler needed a good washing up as much as she does.
She shouldn’t, but she didn’t hear a no come out of her mouth.
Debbie was in a foul mood.
Firstly, that fool Fester still hadn’t updated her on whether or not he’d bought the rubellite cluster earrings and platinum diamond bracelet as she’d asked. If they end up being sold out, she will cut his stupid bald head off with a machete, although she’d much rather do that after they’re married, whereby she can be sure she’s inheriting all of his fortune.
Secondly, the waxing appointment had been terrible. The girl was a stand-in because her usual esthetician had called in sick, but since Debbie had driven all the way there and these appointments weren’t all that easy to make, she had gone with it. It was a mistake because said girl had done a poor job pulling the pellon strip a tad too slowly, which hurt much more than it should. Debbie retaliated by pouring hot wax over her, though that was still barely enough to satisfy.
Last but not least, she still had to address the pent-up sexual tension that had been building inside her over the past few days. She should rightfully be able to have sex with her fiancé, but she’d rather yank her ovaries out than let Fester touch a single hair on her body. A lovely, yummy-looking plumber had shown up on her doorstep this morning, but he seemed shy, or perhaps she’d been too forward with him. Debbie cursed at all the missteps and couldn’t wait to get home to bring her battery-operated friend out, while having the little plumber boy, Ty, be on her mind as she gave herself what would likely be an unsatisfying orgasm. It’s still better than no release, though.
As she parked her car and strutted up the walkway, her eyes furrowed at the shoes on her doorstep. She’s pretty sure they belonged to the plumber. But it’s also been nearly 3 hours since she left the house…
Debbie was careful to remove her stilettos upon stepping into the house. She wasn’t too worried but could feel it in her bones. Something felt off. The kitchen is also precisely as she’d left it. No one cleaned the mess up under the sink, and that stupid brat, Wednesday, isn’t anywhere, either.
The last Debbie could recall was seeing Ty disappear into the bathroom. She decided to go there, keeping her footsteps light and quiet like a cat.
She pressed her ear against the door and could hear it – them – through the thin wood.
“Do that again,” she could hear a male voice and the sounds of water sloshing. “Ride me just like that, yes, fuck-”
“Like this?” More light, continuous sloshing. Debbie’s furrowed her brows. The voice sounded exactly like Fester’s devil of a niece.
She didn’t want to be presumptuous, but if it was anything like she assumed… Debbie couldn’t wait any longer. Her hands found the handle, and she turned and pushed. Silly little things didn’t even lock the door. What she found indeed turned her frown upside down. Clothes on the floor, air smelling of sex, and a very naked Wednesday, and what’s the plumber boy’s name again? Oh yes, Ty – wrapped up in each other’s arms in the tub, doing the deed, except their eyes are now fully blown open and staring at her.
“Why,” Debbie couldn’t stop the smile from reaching her ears, “what do we have here?”