Still a Slut for Bennett - Part 2

Everyone in this story is 18+

I make my way upstairs, picking my way through the scattered debris of last night’s chaos. Cups, crumpled napkins, and a few lone shoes are strewn across the floor—it’s obvious it was one hell of a party. I’m grateful I don’t see the host or Bennett; I’m not ready for awkward small talk or, worse, trying to act like nothing happened.

Pushing open the front door, I step outside, squinting against the sudden light, and lean against the wall, waiting. A few minutes later, Leah’s car pulls up. She looks better than I feel, but not by much. Her hair’s up in a messy bun, and there are faint circles under her eyes, a look that says she’s still shaking off last night.

She rolls down the window, giving me a once-over with a small smirk. “Rough night?” she teases, though her eyes soften as she takes in my expression.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I mutter, sliding into the passenger seat. The scent of coffee fills the car, comforting and familiar, and I feel a wave of relief just being next to her. We haven’t even started talking yet, but somehow I already feel a little lighter.

She puts the car into gear, glancing over at me. “Alright, spill. What happened?”

“So it happened. Me and Bennett… we went all the way,” I admit, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

Leah’s eyes light up, and she lets out a cheer. “No way!” She almost claps her hands before remembering she’s behind the wheel, a huge grin spreading across her face. But then she glances over and notices the look on mine—something between lost and unsure.

Her smile softens, and her tone shifts instantly, gentle and reassuring. “Oh, Eli… what happened?”

I let out a shaky sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “It was amazing, you know? But then… this morning, he just… left. I don’t know if it even meant anything to him.” I feel the words catch in my throat, everything I’d tried to keep in coming out at once.

Leah nods, keeping her eyes on the road but reaching over to squeeze my hand. “I’m here. Tell me everything.”

"I don't know," I mumble, staring down at my hands. "It felt like, when he saw me without the wig and the makeup, he looked… almost disgusted with himself, with what we did."

Leah’s face softens, but her brows draw together as she watches me. “But Eli! Sweetie, are you sure? We all know Benny can be a bit… brisk and, how to put this? A douche. Which, weirdly, you seem to get off on,” she teases, giving me a sideways grin. I can’t help but smile just a little, nodding as she meets my guilty look.

“But seriously,” she says, her tone more thoughtful, “maybe it was just a lot for him to process. I mean, before this, he didn’t even know you’re gay, or that you had the hots for him.”

I shake my head, feeling a heaviness settle in my chest. “No, Leah, I think I really messed everything up. Our friendship, and just… everything!” A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it, my voice breaking on the last word.

“Oh, Eli,” she says softly, squeezing my hand. “It’s not your fault. If anything, he took advantage of you,” she says, her voice firm, a hint of anger flashing in her eyes. She runs her thumb over my knuckles in gentle circles, grounding me. “You’ve got to give him space, let him come to terms with this. And if he’s worth it, he’ll come around.”

I nod, taking in her words, though the ache in my chest remains. At least here, in this car with Leah, I feel seen. And maybe that’s enough to keep me steady—for now.

As we got back to Leah’s apartment, I headed straight for the bathroom, desperate to wash away the leftover haze of last night. But just as I reached for the door, she called after me.

“Hey, before you go in—did you tell him?”

I turned back, frowning. “Huh?”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. “Did you actually tell him you’re gay?”

I felt my cheeks flush, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh, no. I mean… I figured he’d assume, considering, you know, what we did last night.” I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “But yeah… I guess I never really said it.”

She sighed, giving me that knowing, sisterly look. “Eli, I think you should tell him.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?”

“Because,” she said, her voice soft but steady, “maybe he’s as confused as you are. Maybe he needs to hear it straight from you, so he knows this wasn’t just… I don’t know, a wild Halloween thing.”

I swallowed, looking down. The idea of putting it out there—of really telling Bennett everything—sent a shiver of nerves through me. “But what if that just makes things worse?”

Leah reached out, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It might feel that way, but if he’s really your friend, Eli, he’ll be able to handle it. And if he can’t… well, then maybe he’s got his own stuff to figure out. But you owe it to yourself to be honest, at least.”

I nodded slowly, the weight of her words sinking in. As terrifying as it was, maybe she was right. Keeping this part of me hidden had only added to the confusion and hurt.

With a final nod, I slipped into the bathroom.

As the hot water pours over me, washing away the haze of last night, my mind drifts back to every heated, desperate moment with Bennett. The way he moved, the way he claimed me, the weight of him pressing me down—it all comes rushing back, each detail sharper than before. The way he said: “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

 My cock stirs at the memory, hardening with every replayed touch, every low groan he let slip in my ear.

I feel a heat rising in my chest, and I can’t stop myself. My hand wraps around my length, slowly stroking as I lean against the shower wall, eyes closing as I lose myself to the memory of his hands on me. My other hand trails down, sliding over my skin, searching, needing. There’s still a faint, lingering trace of him, and I press my fingers inside, feeling a mix of pleasure and rawness that makes me gasp. The sensation sends a shiver down my spine, each movement building as I picture him taking me again, rough and unrestrained.

I bring my fingers to my lips, tasting a trace of him, my mind hazy with the need to hold onto every last bit of him. It’s messy, unfiltered, but I can’t stop myself—I want him with an intensity that borders on madness, and for a moment, I let myself sink into it, savoring the taste, the feel, as my other hand works faster.

I think back to when he came in me, his grip tight, his voice low as he said, “Eli, you are mine.” Just the memory of it sends a rush through me, filling every inch of me with a need that’s impossible to ignore. Thinking of this, it doesn’t take long; the pressure builds fast, each movement bringing me closer, until I’m gasping, my release painting the shower wall in messy spurts. My legs tremble as I brace myself, breathing hard, the thrill slowly fading, leaving me raw, aching, and haunted by the echo of his words.

I catch my breath, reality settling in as I reach for the washcloth, knowing Leah definitely wouldn’t appreciate finding that later. I scrub the wall clean, feeling a faint smile tug at my lips, even as her words echo back in my mind: Maybe you need to tell him.

But as I rinse off, the weight of it returns, heavier now. The thought of facing him, of risking everything by opening up, leaves a nervous twist in my stomach. I lean against the cool tiles, the water still streaming down, and wonder if I’ll ever find the courage to do it. I look in the mirror, I sigh, letting that truth settle over me. I’m his forever, anyway.