Chapter 24 – Pineapple Juice

Steve was sitting on the couch, laptop on the coffee table, frantically trying to close a tab. But it was too late, she had already seen it. Her Throat Me video was on the screen.

“Oh shit!” Steve’s face turned bright red. “Sorry! I swear, I was just checking out the new releases on Naughty Net and yours was featured on the front page!”

Unsure what to do, he hastily closed the laptop, then opened it again, closed it again, like a nervous clam.

“I didn’t know you were filming for Throat Me!” he stammered. “That’s… wow. That must have been challenging. I mean, Trevor is known for being pretty rough.”

Chloe just stood there, unsure how to react.

Steve filled the awkward silence with more words. “Most girls can’t do that… I mean, not that you couldn’t, obviously you could, but…” He fell silent, visibly embarrassed.

A long, uncomfortable silence.

“It’s really well produced,” he finally muttered, unable to resist opening the laptop again a crack. “And you’re doing really well!”

“Steve…”

“No, seriously!” He became more enthusiastic. “Deep throating isn’t exactly easy! I mean it like… it’s like… like watching someone do gymnastics. Totally impressive, technically speaking.”

He unconsciously shifted back and forth on the couch, surreptitiously adjusting his sweatpants.

Reluctantly, she sat down, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “It’s weird, Steve. Seeing my own video. Coming in here and seeing my, um… date watching one of my videos.”

He looked at her in confusion. “Why? We both work in the industry, don’t we?”

There was genuine confusion in his voice, as if he really couldn’t understand what was so strange about it.

But he finally closed the laptop for good and turned to her, nervously fidgeting with his hands. “Hey, uh… this might sound weird, but…”

A long pause. He was visibly gathering his courage.

“Would you maybe be up for… you know? But missionary this time?” The words tumbled out of him. “I’d really like to see your face while we’re doing it. Last time it was all from behind and that was great, but it felt kind of… impersonal? With your head in that dryer?”

Jesus Christ, in his head that probably even sounded romantic.

“Steve, I just came to change.”

His face fell. “Oh. Sure. Of course.”

But then, immediately hopeful again: “But we had sex a few days ago, didn’t we? And you liked it, right? So I thought maybe…”

He really didn’t understand what the difference was. In his world, sex was sex, whether it was in front of cameras or on his couch.

“That was work, Steve.”

“But…” His eyes widened, almost pleading. He vaguely pointed to the bulge in his sweatpants. “I’m already… and we… at least a blowjob?”

Chloe sighed. “Steve, no.”

“Please?” He slid closer, looking at her like a begging dog at the dinner table. “I’d definitely return the favor, I promise!”

“I said no.”

But her voice sounded tired, not even convincing to her own ears.

“Please, please, please?” He took her hand. “I’ll be really careful, I promise, not like Trevor. And afterwards we could play video games if you want, or watch a series on-“

“Oh my God,” Chloe groaned. He was like water wearing away a stone. Not forceful, just relentless. “If I say yes, will you leave me alone and stop begging?”

His eyes lit up. “Yes! I promise!”

“Just a blowjob. Nothing more. And then I’ll leave.”

“Yes! You’re the best!”

Steve beamed from ear to ear, his eyes shining like a child’s at Christmas. He slid forward on the couch, and before Chloe could even blink, he reached for the waistband of his sweatpants.

~

With a quick movement, he pulled them down, along with his boxer shorts, and his big cock sprang out, already half hard, as if it had been waiting all day for this moment. Chloe stared at it, a lump in her throat.

Why am I doing this?

She slid off the couch and knelt between his legs, which he willingly spread, and she felt the warmth of his thighs brushing against her shoulders.

Steve looked at her intently, but not with greed, rather with a kind of reverent gratitude. “You’re incredible, Chloe,” he murmured, his voice trembling.

Her hand closed around the base of his cock, feeling the warmth and the hard vein pulsing beneath her touch. He was big. She remembered getting fucked by him, how he had stretched her, but she pushed the thought away.

Slowly, she leaned forward, opened her lips, and took the tip into her mouth. The salty taste of his anticipation exploded on her tongue, a little bitter but with an unexpected sweetness. She sucked gently, swirling her tongue around his shaft, feeling him swell in her mouth as he grew bigger.

Make it quick. Get him to come fast and then get out of there.

She began to work, pumping her hand in rhythm with her mouth, taking him deeper, sliding her lips tightly around the shaft. Saliva flowed freely, making everything slick and slippery, and she heard his first moan, deep and satisfied.

She moved faster, sucked harder, fluttered her tongue over the underside where she knew it was most sensitive.

Her free hand gently kneaded his balls, weighing them in her palm as her head bounced up and down, the rhythm fast and relentless.

Suddenly, she felt his hand in her hair. She froze, expecting the usual grip, the pulling that kept her in position. But no, his fingers were gentle, stroking through her hair as if he were petting a kitten.

But this tenderness confused her, causing a strange warmth to rise in her chest, which she quickly suppressed.

No pulling, no pushing, just the tender touch of his hands, gently stroking her head, almost lovingly. It confused her, throwing her off balance for a moment.

Why is he being so… sweet?

Steve had noticed her speed. “Hey, Chloe… slow down, please,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but gentle and almost a little shy. “I want to enjoy this, not rush it. You’re so amazing, you know that?”

She looked up at him. He smiled at her, his eyes warm and pleading, not commanding at all.

Then she took him deeper again and rolled her eyes inwardly. Of course he wanted to make it last. But she obeyed, slowing her pace, letting her lips glide leisurely over his shaft, sucking more gently, letting her tongue stroke lazily over the underside.

His fingers remained gently in her hair, continuing to caress her and sending a pleasant tingling sensation across her neck. “You feel so good,” he whispered, his voice breathless. “Thank you for doing this.”

His words seeped into her, soft and unexpected, and something stirred inside her. It didn’t feel like work. There were no cameras capturing every movement, no director shouting, “More dirty talk!”

Instead, there were only those soft, almost cute sounds, like quiet whimpers, that he made, the sound of her soft slurping interrupted only by his little sighs.

She couldn’t say exactly what it was, that made her walls crumble a little. Maybe the absence of pressure. Confusing emotions rose within her and a strange warmth in her chest… and a slight tingling between her legs that she ignored.

She took him deeper, letting him slide into her throat, relaxing her throat as she had practiced. Her saliva dripped down on his balls, and then her nose touched his belly and she stayed there briefly, sucking slowly, letting her tongue flutter.

Steve groaned, a deep, happy sound, and his fingers just kept stroking. “Oh God, Chloe, you’re a dream,” he breathed. His hips twitched slightly, but he held back, letting her set the pace.

Finally, she felt his legs tremble, then the first soft twitch in her mouth. “Chloe, I… I’m going to come,” he warned in a low voice, almost apologetically.

She held him firmly in her mouth and didn’t change anything, just kept sucking, slowly and deeply.

I’m definitely not getting changed again.

His cock seemed to get even bigger, started twitching violently, and then he came, an enormous gush, hot and thick, shooting into her mouth. She swallowed hastily, but it was a lot. Spurt after spurt, salty and surprisingly sweet, like salted caramel, barely bitter. It flowed over her tongue, and she swallowed again, feeling it run warm down her throat.

His moan was loud, a long, grateful “Oh, Chloe…” He pulsed a little longer, then finally subsided, and Steve slumped back onto the couch, exhausted, with a happy, stupid smile on his face.

His cock went limp in her mouth, and she let it slip out.

~

“Thank you, Chloe,” he said breathlessly, his eyes shining. “That was the best ever.” He reached out, helped her up, even pulled her into an awkward hug.

Chloe wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and blinked in surprise. The taste had been so sweet. Definitely not what she had expected.

“Why does it…” She fell silent, unsure how to phrase it.

Steve grinned broadly, a proud gleam in his eyes. “Pineapple.”

“What?”

“I drink two glasses of pineapple juice every day.” He leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. “I read that it improves the taste. For the performers, you know? That always goes down well.”

Chloe stared at him for a moment. Then it just burst out of her and she laughed out loud. It was just so absurd. There he sat, this nerd with his proud grin, proudly explaining his daily pineapple juice routine to her as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Really? Two glasses?” She shook her head, still laughing. “That’s the dumbest and yet weirdly considerate thing I’ve ever heard.”

Steve blushed a little. “Well, I just thought it would be more pleasant for- “

“I need to use the bathroom,” she interrupted him, standing up and feeling his oversized Star Wars T-shirt swing around her thighs.

In the bathroom, she rinsed her mouth and looked at her reflection in his dirty bathroom mirror. Her hair was a mess, her lips slightly swollen, Steve’s T-shirt hung from her shoulders. She looked like… like a girl who had just spent a cozy afternoon with her boyfriend.

He’s not…

A warm feeling spread through her chest, which she immediately tried to suppress. She shook her head at her own reflection. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But there was something about his complete cluelessness, his naive manner… that felt safe.

When she returned to the living room, Steve had gotten dressed again and was sitting on the couch waiting.

“Hey,” he said, looking up. “Want to watch a movie?”

She hesitated. She should leave. She had said she would leave. This was getting too cozy, too normal, too…

“A real movie,” he quickly added, raising his hand in a scout’s honor. “Webflix. No porn. I promise.”

She struggled with herself for five full seconds. Her mind screamed that she should leave.

Then she sat down next to him on the couch.

“What do you want to watch?”

Steve pressed the remote and the familiar Webflix logo appeared. “Action comedy? There’s this older one I like to watch, with the explosions… what was it called-“

“Sounds perfect,” she interrupted him and pulled her legs under her.

He found the movie, leaned back, and after about twenty minutes, somewhere between the third explosion and the first occurrence of the running gag, she found herself leaning against his shoulder, with his arm loosely around her.

They laughed at the same places. Groaned in unison at the bad one-liners. When the protagonist’s partner launched into an anecdote for the third time that ended with the words “That made me the man I am,” they murmured it at the same time and then burst out giggling.

That’s dangerous, whispered a voice in the back of her mind.

I don’t care, she replied to the voice and snuggled deeper into Steve’s shoulder.

~

The credits rolled across the screen, accompanied by orchestral music. Chloe blinked and realized with surprise that it was already past midnight.

“I should go,” she said, stretching. Steve’s shirt rode up slightly, exposing a strip of skin above her waistband.

Steve reluctantly took his arm off her shoulder. “You can stay here if you want. I mean…” He blushed. “Just to sleep. On the couch, of course, which is actually quite comfortable. Or I’ll go on the couch, I just meant-“

“That’s nice, but I really should go home.” She grabbed her phone, opened the taxi app, and called one. “Eight-minute wait.”

“Cool.” He stood up and then remembered something. “Oh, I nearly forgot, wait a second.”

While he was looking for something in the kitchen, Chloe put on her shoes.

Steve came back with a plastic bag. “For your shirt. The wet one, I mean. In case you want to wash it or something.”

“Thanks!” She put her cola-ruined top and the soaked bra she had wrapped in it into the bag.

“So… that was really nice today.” Steve leaned against the doorframe.

“Yeah,” she said, and she actually meant it. “It was.”

They stood there, both unsure of what came next. Steve’s dating guide probably didn’t cover etiquette after a blowjob and two hours of Webflix.

Her phone vibrated. The driver was there.

“That’s my ride,” she said, taking the bag.

He walked her to the door. Outside, a white compact car was already waiting.

“Well then,” Steve said. “See you…?”

She hesitated for a moment. “Thanks for the movie. And the T-shirt. And the… pineapple juice.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome.”

She walked to the taxi, and when she turned around, he was still standing in the doorway, waving.

Man, how stupid.

She waved back, then got in.

The driver, an older man with a tired face, just nodded briefly and drove off. No questions, no suggestive comments, no staring. Chloe was more than fine with that.

She leaned back in her seat and watched the city lights pass by the windows.

She had given Steve a blow job. Steve fucking Balls. The guy who had fucked her in a dryer a week ago. And then she had stayed over to watch a movie. She had only wanted to grab a quick burger and then let him down gently.

How did that happen?

He had persuaded her, of course. But she could have just left. Instead, she had let herself be talked into it. And it hadn’t been… totally awful?

The damn pineapple juice.

A small smile crept onto her lips. So stupid. So incredibly stupid. But somehow also sweet, in a completely twisted way.

The taxi driver glanced at her briefly in the rearview mirror but said nothing and she was grateful for his silence.

The ride was short, less than twenty minutes. When they arrived at her building, she paid via app and got out. The night air was still warm and heavy, typical Valley City.

The ride was short, less than twenty minutes, then the car stopped in front of her building. She muttered a thank you, gave a reasonable tip via the app, and got out.

Her apartment greeted her with silence. She took off her sneakers and flopped onto the bed, still wearing Steve’s oversized shirt.

Shit. I have to give it back to him.

That meant seeing him again. The thought triggered a complicated blend of feelings that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Or didn’t want to. Or didn’t want to examine any further.

You came to Valley City to find Samantha’s killer.

But tonight had been so… normal and so… Steve was about as subtle as a sledgehammer. Sure, he wanted something from her and ultimately got it, but his cards had been laid out on the table. That had felt real. Safe, somehow.

She needed that, she realized now. That predictability without any false bottom and hidden agenda.

Still. It was a slip-up. A break. Nothing more.

She forced herself to get up, fetched her laptop, and opened her investigation document.

She typed:

FILE EDIT VIEW INSERT FORMAT TOOLS HELP

Ethan Cooper: cameraman at Bound.com. Elena said Samantha complained about him to management. He harassed her outside of work. IMPORTANT: Accepted a shoot at Bound.com next week, can hopefully observe/question him directly.

Then she closed her laptop, turned off the light, and crawled under the covers, still wearing Steve’s shirt. Tomorrow she would focus fully on the investigation again. Tonight she had just been a girl who stayed too long with a guy who talked too much and drank too much pineapple juice.

That won’t happen again.

But as she closed her eyes, she still had to smile about the damn pineapple juice thing.