TRISTEN

"Jerking off."

My voice came out strangled, like a whisper, a shameful whisper.

"You..." Wilder blinked a few times to make sure that what he heard was real. "You really want me to do this?"

Did he think I was asking him to give me a hand job?

Eww. No. That's so messed up.

"No," I cringed and quickly looked away. "Not like that." I exhaled and turned his way but was too ashamed to meet his eyes. "I can barely move my hand. I don't have the strength to do it by myself. I need you to wrap my fingers around it and help me... you know... do it."

When Wilder understood what I was saying, he let out a relaxed "Oh" sound. Then he panicked. "Oh!" He got up and stumbled around clumsily with his hands on his waist. "Umm. OK. Ok, yeah. So, this is happening."

His face reddened and made all kinds of expressions.

He didn't know how to begin, and neither did I. This was a bad idea. The worst! But I didn't have any choice. I didn't have a girlfriend. I didn't have a hooker. And my body felt so heavy, that I could barely move.

"So, you can't move." He rubbed his chin while strolling around. "That means you're already at phase 4." He was basically mumbling to himself. "And we don't wanna get to phase 5. Oh, this is not good." He pulled on his hair. "Not good at all."

"Why?" I shivered. "What's phase 5?"

He stopped pacing, looked at me with big fearful eyes, then forced a smile.

"Nothing," he squeaked. "How do you feel now? You look... better."

That smile was not fooling anybody. He wasn't going to tell me what will happen to me after this, and it made my stomach churn.

"Dude." I gulped through the pain. "It hurts so fucking much I feel like I'm gonna throw up." I shuddered as a yell unintentionally came out of me, "So just fucking do it already!"

Wilder was taken aback by my sudden outburst.

 "Ugh." I shut my eyes tight, grinding my teeth together. "I'm sorry. And I'm so so sorry for making you do this."

I wanted to pull the pillow from under my head and smother myself with it.

"Nooo. No, it's OK." He swiped his purple hair back. "I can do it." Then he chuckled and shrugged with his palms upward. "Hey. It's not like my first time doing something like this. You know me."

Yeah, I knew him, I knew him very well. He was very experienced in all kinds of sexual activities with all kinds of sexual partners. He even went out with an orgy group once and did it in the forest. This shouldn't be too weird for him, but it was super weird for me, for us! This shouldn't happen between best friends. Stuff like this ruined friendships.

I bet he was thinking, But it's Tris, for God's sake. I can't do that to him. I hated myself for that.

"I know," I tiredly said with a slight nod.

There was no time to waste. Every second hurt like hell. He saw it in my squirms and groans. He saw it in my tired eyes, I could barely keep them open.

"OK." Wilder sighed as he hovered his hands above my sweaty chest. "Here we go."

Then he stopped as his eyes found the lube in my drawer. He took it and focused his attention back on me.

That was thoughtful of him. I was too embarrassed to tell him to use lube, and God knows I really needed it.

Wilder fumbled under the covers and grabbed my hands, smearing the palm-side with the greasy substance. They were shaking badly that Wilder had to look at me to make sure I wasn't about to faint. Then he guided my hands until they were touching my dick.

"There," I said, turning my face away. "It's right there."

He wrapped my fingers around my length. Wilder's hands were on my hands. My hands were on my dick. It was so weird and humiliating. The most mortifying thing I have ever experienced.

He squeezed my hands and the pressure on my dick made me yelp. My dick was sore. It felt like it was covered with bruises.

"Sorry," said Wilder. "Did I hurt you?"

"Just..." I breathed. "Not too hard. OK?"

"OK."

He helped me move my hands up and down. The stiffness slowly softened. My dick was still hard and long but it wasn't as painful. Then I started to feel the tingles.

I closed my eyes and almost cried when I realized, Wilder's gonna see my face when I cum. Hell, he's gonna feel the semen on his hands. He's gonna feel my shivers. He's gonna witness everything.

I could feel my face blushing into a bright red.

"Wilder," I said, hesitantly. "Don't watch."

"I won't."

I didn't dare to look at him, but I trusted him.

I whimpered. A strangely nice feeling filled my veins. I shuddered at the tingles caressing through me, but then I froze. A sickening sensation grew in my stomach as it hit me, Wilder's gonna hear my moans.

I breathed out steadily through my mouth, desperate to relax. I tried not to think about Wilder. I needed a distraction, anything to get him out of my mind.

And that was when I imagined Stacie.

Every good feeling I got while stroking my dick, I forced myself to associate it with Stacie. Her delicate touches. Her plump lips. Her long beautiful red hair as it brushed on my naked body. Her soft skin. Her tender breasts. Her—

Before I knew it, I was gasping. I turned my head up to get more air. I was shaking and moaning. I bit my lip to stop myself, but I couldn't keep my mouth sealed. I didn't know if we were at it for hours or minutes, but I was about to cum. Rasping breaths puffed my chest as I finally reached my climax.

My cum struck the fabric of the cover, then flowed down on our hands.

I was struggling to catch my breath when Wilder released his hands from mine. My hands slid down to my sides. A bit relieved, but mostly drained.

I heard the faint rustling of tissues, then felt a touch on my hand. Wilder was cleaning me up.

"Thanks."

My eyes were still shut. I felt the excessive sweat on my face. A damp strand of hair bothered me, so I reached for it to move it away.

That was when I gasped.

"I can move." I tiredly pushed myself to lay against the headboard. "Oh, thank God."

"How are you feeling now?" asked Wilder after throwing the tissues in the trash.

"Better." I smiled, still holding my eyes closed.

Then I winced. The pain was coming back again. I fluttered my eyes open and stared down. What the hell? My dick was still erect under the covers.

I extended my arm and pulled the covers a little up, enough to take a peek. It was turning blue. My dick was so thick with a dark shade of blue.

I let go of the covers and flopped back. I was exhausted from all this. My lips quivered as I closed my eyes again and tried to ignore the throbbing pain.

"Are you sure you're better?" Wilder's timid voice came from my side.

"Yeah," I squeaked with a fake smile.

I had to lie. I knew what he was implying when he said it was best for me to have sex. I wasn't going to let him touch me. No blow jobs. Not fingering. Nothing.

Wilder was used to having sex with anyone he met, men and women alike. Hell, he might have been looking forward to having sex with me too. That freak. But I wasn't like that. I only had sex with women I fell in love with.

"Then... Why are you crying?"

My smile turned upside down. I brought my hand to my eyes and wiped the few tears that escaped. I tried to keep my misery inside me, but it burst out in a river of tears.

"Because it hurts so much."

I whimpered, more like a whine of an injured puppy. Then uncontrollable sobs shook my chest. I raised both hands to cover my crying face.

"OK. That's it!" Wilder declared, causing me to look at him. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"What?" I yelled. "No!"

He grabbed the bottom sheet of the bed and began wrapping it around my naked butt. Then he slid his arms under me and tried to carry me.

"I said no!"

He wasn't listening anymore. He lifted me up a notch with ease. I knew I wasn't going to get away from his grip, so I choked him by his collar and pulled him to meet my gaze.

"Don't. You. Dare."

The way I said it, so slowly and full of threat, made Wilder's knees buckle in fear. He placed me back on the bed.

A trip to the hospital to make my humiliation public was the last thing I wanted to do. It was because of my damn pride again.

"I gotta do something," Wilder begged as he fell to his knees. "I can't just sit here and watch you suffer like this."

"Then..." I glared at him. "Do it."

"What?" His eyes grew wide. He couldn't believe the words that came out of my mouth. I couldn't believe it myself. "What do you mean?"

"You know what," I spat. "You've been thinking about it this whole time. I can see it in your eyes, you freak!"

What the hell am I saying?

"No." Wilder shook his head nervously. "No, I'm-I'm not think—"

"This was your plan all along, wasn't it?" I started screaming at him. My head shook as I raged, "You son of a bitch!"

Oh, my God. Why can't I stop it? I didn't mean any of that. Something was wrong with me. Words just popped out of my mouth. I wasn't thinking at all. It's that damn juice. It had to be. It's making me hallucinate and say things.

I'm sorry, I wanted to say to Wilder, but something happened.

I clutched the sheets beneath me and gritted my teeth. I was shaking as if a thousand watts of electricity shot through me. Everything faded. Every light, sound, and touch just seized to exist. These few torturous seconds of darkness made me realize that I was in grave danger. Literally, a danger that would send me to my grave.

When the shaking stopped, I gasped and tried to open my eyes. They were already open but everything was black. A ringing sound rumbled in my ears until I was able to hear a voice. I blinked a few times and the darkness was gone. I was back in my room.

"Oh, my God. Tris. Talk to me. Say something."

I felt my hand being pressed. I turned to the side and saw Wilder. He was holding my hand with both of his while his face was buried in the bed.

He was crying.

"Tris. What should I do? Please, just tell me what to do."

I squeezed his hand and faintly called his name.

He jerked his head up. His eyes welled up with worry and fear. His face was wet with heavy trails of tears.

"Oh, Tris."

He lifted himself to give me a hug. Then he broke it up, he stared down at my face, tears still sparkling heavily in his eyes.

"I thought I lost you."

"Wow." I kept staring at his eyes, his big beautiful shiny eyes. "Have your eyes always been blue?"

He made a confused face, and I didn't blame him. Something was terribly wrong with me. I thought I was losing my mind. I felt high and drunk at the same time. I have a feeling I wouldn't remember most of this night.

Then, another seizure hit me.

When I regained my consciousness, I felt a weight on my chest. I opened my eyes and saw Wilder crying on top of me, his arms folded between us.

"Just tell me what to do, Tris. What do you want me to do?"

At this very moment, I realized that Wilder didn't want to touch me too, not without my consent.

"Wilder," my voice came out weak.

He raised his head to meet my face and wiped his tears. His face was red and glossy from crying.

I held his hand and brought him nearer.

"Do what... you have to do," I finally said it in a trembling breath.

"Huh?"

I tightened my grip and looked into his eyes to assure him that I was sober enough to say this.

"I said, do what you gotta do... don't stop... until it's over."

I held his face between my palms and pulled him closer. My shaky breaths fanned his face. My intense stare grew bigger, boring into Wilder's soul and freaking him out.

I had to tell him this before I lose my strength.

"Don't stop." I paused for emphasis, lowering my voice into a whisper, "Even if I told you to."

I feel so bad for Tristen 😢

I know. I know. I'm the author, but I can still feel sorry for my characters XD

How about you? Did you feel sad for Tristen or Wilder? Or both?

And are you excited for the next chapter? 😏

NEXT CHAPTER: Pleasing You >