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Andrea & her boyfriend takes it to next level.

a what that does to me?"

She looked pointedly at his erection tenting his pajama pants. "I think I have an idea," she said wryly.

They were both quiet again for a moment. And then, "For me, too..." she whispered. "It's like you're speaking to me...I know you're not, but I feel it right through me." She couldn't believe she was saying these things. This was not her. Not this brazen honesty.

"But now that I know, how can I get that thought out of my head?"

"You can't, any more than I can get it out of my head that you're saying things knowing I can hear them."

They were both quiet.

"I'm just gonna..." she motioned toward her room. "Process."

"Ok."

She left him sitting in the kitchen, his head in his hands.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck-all fuck. This was a mess. She wasn't a home wrecker. Had no intention of stealing Heather's boyfriend right out from underneath her nose. It was a dirty slut move and she wouldn't be a part of something like that again. She'd done it when she was younger and always felt shitty about it.

And yet. She couldn't un-ring the bell. It was out. Jackson knew. And Jackson felt the same way. And now Jackson, who had a need that wasn't being fulfilled by Heather, was very aware that he could fill that need with Beth. A game-changer. Meanwhile Beth having several needs (all unfulfilled and sex being the greatest of those) was very aware - too aware, one might say - that she could have her needs met by Jackson. And Heather absolutely out of this loop.

She paced her room. Thought about how easy it would be to just throw everything to the wind and have him. And yet it would be wrong, a wrong thing to do. A very bad thing. And everyone could end up being hurt by it.

But then she realized she was over thinking it. Nothing had to change. It wasn't cheating. She wasn't committing to anything. Yes, it was weird, filthy, perverse in a number of ways. But she could handle it. In fact, she preferred it. Less mess.

She went back in the kitchen. Jackson stood up when she came in, his delightfully southern roots showing. She sighed and stopped at the door frame, leaning against it and crossing her arms.

"Jackson," she said, looking directly at him, her speech all prepared. "This is ok. We're all ok. It's all going to be fine. We just freaked out. Nothing has to change."

"What do you mean?" Jackson asked. "With us? How could nothing change? We have too much information!"

"It won't. Jackson, we don't have to do anything. I'm not asking for anything. Heather makes you happy, and that's the relationship you want, so..." she trailed off and shrugged, secretly wondering in what ways Heather possibly made Jackson happy.

"But..." he moved toward her, almost pinning her to the wall. She relaxed herself against it, and he pressed almost to her, just a few inches separating his body from hers. "She doesn't. And I want you so badly," he whispered in her ear. Telegraphing to her wet cunt. She was trembling from his proximity, from the sound of his voice, from his male smell which buckled her knees.

"We can't," she whispered, her entire body in agony from the refusal.

"We can do anything we want," he whispered back, his voice hot and husky in her ear.

"Jackson, no..." she protested, her resolve losing momentum as he moved closer, covering her, but still without touching her. Their clothes brushed together, but their bodies were still fractions away.

"Beth, yes..." he breathed against her neck.

Her stomach felt like the room had dropped out from underneath her. Her head reeled.

"You're someone else's boyfriend," Beth said, gathering enough of her senses to slip out of his reach. "I can't, Jackson. If you and Heather break up, that's fine. Let me know if that happens. But I can't be responsible for hurting her, not in any way. And you don't want to do that, either." Her chest heaved, and her entire body actually ached, as if moving away from him had removed some protective membrane. As if they had been connected in some way, physically.

He had his hand over his face, pinching the br

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