Chapter 51

~Ashley~

I’m kneeling on my bed completely naked, balancing on my left elbow while I jack off Josh with my right hand. My cheeks cave in as I suck on the top half of his dick while moaning and looking up at him with lust. I can feel my big boobs dangling from my chest; they’re jiggling and slapping each other as Ian slams into me from behind.

“Gak! Gak! Gak! Gak!” I groan around the dick in my mouth while enjoying the spit-roast.

Guys using me from both ends is so incredibly hot, and I gasp loudly around Josh’s thickness as I cum on Ian’s cock. Releasing the dick in my hand, I balance on both elbows to keep from being knocked over. Josh is holding my head, forcing his length down my throat. Ian has a firm grip on my hips, pulling me back so he can get balls-deep inside me.

I love being bounced back and forth between both men as they use my sexy body. The manhandling is a huge turn on; I’m actually taller than Ian, but the way the boys are controlling me makes them seem so big and strong. It’s like I exist for the pleasure of the two beautiful cocks that are standing tall for me. I love it!

Like the other Sluts, I enjoy being submissive during sex. I’m not sure why women more often lean toward being submissive, while men seem to usually be dominant. Is it something to do with hormones, maybe? Testosterone and estrogen? Fuck if I know, I just love getting pounded.

Josh grabs my head, thrusting his hips as he buries his entire length down my throat. I gag and gurgle around his length, my eyes rolling up to meet his as I feel his balls resting against my chin. The entire time, Ian is relentlessly ramming his cock up my cunt.

Perhaps just having a penis is what makes someone dominant? Lexi can get very controlling when she’s wearing the strap-on. The redhead dominates Kayla, but constantly claims that her pussy belongs to Steven. Does even a fake penis make someone want to control, to conquer? To make a needy slut squirm until she screams and passes out from pleasure overload?

“Ashley, I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” Josh warns, his breathing rapid as he pushes his dick in and out of my mouth.

“She’s gonna make me cum, too!” Ian groans, his fingers digging into my skin as he happily pumps my pussy.

“Mm! Cum! Mm!” I beg around the cock in my mouth, my eyes watering.

Reaching up, I wrap my fingers around the base of Josh’s dick so I can jack him off while sucking on the tip. Looking at Josh, I make loud mewling noises as I urge him to start spurting. My strong vaginal muscles clench down on Ian, attempting to bring off a second guy. I long for both of them to fill me with cum at the same time, drowning me in semen.

“Fuck! I’m gonna- ungh!” Ian groans, holding himself inside me as his body shudders.

“Ashley!” Josh hisses just as I feel the warmth of Ian’s load squirt into me.

Feeling two men cum in me at the same time is too much; an orgasm explodes out of me as I start whining and thrashing. Ian holds my hips in place as his cock pulses again and again, filling my little pussy until it’s overflowing. I hear Josh gasp as his warm cum covers my tongue. A second spurt goes right down my throat, and he instinctively pulls back. His dick slips out of my mouth, causing a strand of semen to shoot along the side of my face.

“Yes, cum for me,” I moan weakly, causing cum to fall out of my mouth and run down my chin as both guys shower me in their pleasure.

My eyes quickly open, revealing only blackness above me as I let out a gasp while shuddering in orgasm. I’m laying beneath the covers, the comforter stimulating my hard nipples as I slowly come down from my climax. My only clothing is a pair of panties, and from the way they feel against my vulva, I can tell I’m completely soaked.

Running a hand over my forehead, I let out a breath before giggling slightly. Then I reach over to my bedside table, feeling around until I manage to snag my phone. I wince slightly when the screen lights up, revealing that it is currently 1:52AM on Wednesday morning.

Josh and I have a double date with Ian and Kayla today, so perhaps my dream will become reality. That’s a nice thought. Although, I’m just now realizing Kayla’s absence from my dream. I guess it makes sense; I can get lesbian group sex whenever I want it. A multi-cock day is not something that happens all the time, or ever, really. This is exciting!

Sure, I’m a little nervous about letting Josh stick it in another girl, but it is Kayla. My Slut-sister. I trust her. I have to trust her. I know she has a great relationship with Ian, and she won’t be tempted to lure my boyfriend away. There’s also the big surprise I have for Josh at the graduation party, so I need to get over this. It’s so hard, and I hate feeling insecure, but it’s only fair.

I sit up with a groan, the comforter falling to my waist. Brushing my sweaty blonde hair out of my face, I get out of bed and remove my panties before tossing the wet fabric into the hamper. After stepping into clean underwear, I put on a robe and walk out into the hall.

To my surprise there is a light on coming from the kitchen, the soft glow spilling out into the hallway. I’m curious, but I stop at the bathroom to pee before checking out the kitchen. I find my baby sister sitting at the table clutching a glass of orange juice. Her phone is sitting on the table in front of her.

“Hey, Ash,” Melissa mumbles, looking over at me.

“What are you doing up at two in the morning?” I frown as I step into the kitchen, the tile cold against my bare feet.

Melissa takes a sip of her juice before answering, smacking her lips as she places the glass back on the table. My little sister is wearing a plain white t-shirt with light blue pajama bottoms. She looks so much like me, and is already my height. I wonder if she’ll keep growing and actually break six feet. Probably not, fifteen is the age of my last growth spurt.

“Just thinking,” Melissa shrugs sadly.

“What about?” I wonder as I open the refrigerator and take out the orange juice.

“Stuff,” she mutters.

“What kind of stuff?” I smirk while taking a glass out of the cabinet.

“Just stuff,” Melissa repeats quietly.

“What’s going on, Mel?” I ask as I sit down across from her and pour myself some juice.

“I’m sorry I’m such a brat,” she sighs, looking at me nervously.

“Me, too. You should really work on that,” I state plainly before taking a sip.

“Ash!” Melissa groans and rolls her eyes. “I’m serious!”

“So am I,” I confirm, setting my glass down. “I was beginning to think you’d never see it.”

“Hmph,” she pouts, crossing her arms.

“What? Was I supposed to argue with you and say you aren’t a brat?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” Melissa grumps.

“Too bad, so sad,” I shrug.

“Ashley!” she whines, bouncing in her seat.

“I’m your big sister, it’s my job to make your life difficult,” I reason with a cute smile. “Well, it’s more of an unpaid internship, but I still take it very seriously.”

“You’re an idiot,” Melissa says, glaring at me.

“Takes one to know one,” I quickly retort.

“I’m on track to be the Valedictorian for the class of 2028!” she declares proudly.

“You’re still an idiot,” I wink.

“I’ll be the sister who gets to give a big speech at graduation,” Melissa responds before blowing a raspberry. “So, there!”

“You know, I always thought the person who graduates last should get to give their own speech,” I frown as I pretend to consider the idea. “That way we can hear both sides.”

“Yeah, and I’m the idiot,” she snorts.

“I know you are,” I nod slowly. “And now that you’re back to your usual dumb self, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“You’re going off to college and I’m going to miss you, okay?!” Melissa blurts out before she can chicken out.

“Well, I’ll miss you too, dumbass!” I reply with a small smile.

“Thanks, moron,” she giggles.

“So, are we good?” I inquire.

“I just, I don’t know,” Melissa sighs. “We never got along, and now you’re going to be living in a dorm. I’ll never see you. I’m just now realizing how much I’ll miss you.”

“Hey! I’ll always be your sister. Whether I like it or not,” I grin. “CSUA isn’t far. I’ll visit. And I’ll still be spending winter and summer breaks here.”

“Yeah, but then you’ll graduate and get a house and a husband. Maybe a cat,” she explains. “I just don’t want us to end up the kind of siblings that only see each other on holidays and funerals.”

“We’ll see each other more often than that, I promise,” I vow sincerely, but just have to get a shot in. “We need to stay close enough that I can ask for a kidney if I ever need one.”

This conversation is making me wonder what I want to do with my life. I’m young. I want to have fun in college, sow some wild oats. Or is that just something guys do? Either way, I also want to work toward a career. I want to get married and have children. I want to enjoy going to work each day rather than just live for the weekend like so many people do.

“Shut up,” Melissa rolls her eyes again.

“Really, we will,” I continue. “We’re growing up. Things are gonna change. One thing that will always be the same is that we’re sisters.”

“Just don’t go moving to another part of the country,” she mumbles.

“You’re the future scientist,” I respond with a laugh. “If one of us is moving far away, it’s you.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Melissa grins before drinking the rest of her juice.

“I know,” I sigh theatrically. “You’re like an infestation. Maybe I should have an exterminator come spray some chemicals around my dorm room.”

“You love me,” she smirks in victory.

“Sadly, that’s true,” I reluctantly admit before finishing my own drink.

“I’m growing up to, you know,” Melissa points out as she stands up and takes our glasses. “Mom and Dad will let me date when I’m sixteen.”

“Don’t remind me,” I grunt, standing up to return the juice to the fridge.

“Can I call you at college if I have questions about boys and dating?” she asks while washing the glasses.

“Of course you can,” I confirm. “Just be careful, okay? Dating can be complicated.”

“I know, I know!” Melissa whines as she walks up to me. “Oh! I’ll be fifteen-and-a-half on Monday. Can you teach me to drive?”

“In a parking lot, maybe,” I respond, facing my baby sister. My baby sister who isn’t so much of a baby anymore. “You need to have a driver who is at least twenty-five in the passenger seat.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize that,” she winces while looking at me nervously. “Were Mom and Dad good teachers?”

“Nope! Not even a little bit,” I laugh. “Dad was like a drill instructor, except instead of counting push-ups I had to count how many seconds I was stopped at the stop sign. Mom screamed every time I went over twenty-five miles per hour and kept reminding me that the brake was my new best friend.”

“Great,” Melissa mumbles, looking uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry about it,” I shrug and smile. “Driver’s ed exists for a reason. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Ash,” she says, stepping toward me and hugging me tightly.

“You’re welcome, Mel,” I respond, hugging her and rubbing her back. “Now, let’s get to bed.”

The two of us walk into Melissa’s room and I take her inside. It looks like things are more organized now, and I head over to the shelf covered in rocks. Sorry, mineral samples. I pick up the purple one and recognize it as amethyst. Setting it down, I take up a sparkly gold one.

“What’s this?” I ask, showing it to my sister.

“Pyrite,” Melissa answers. “Also known as fool’s gold.”

“Too bad it’s not real gold,” I mutter, setting it back down before picking up another sparkly mineral. This one is all rainbow colors. “How about this one?”

“Bornite,” she responds. “It’s a copper ore commonly found with chalcopyrite. It’s also known as peacock ore.”

“Uh, this one?” I wonder, holding up a brown crystal that is shaped like a rose.

“Desert rose,” Melissa smirks in bemusement. “It’s a crystal cluster of gypsum or baryte.”

“This?” I ask, showing her a small green stone with dark green swirls.

“Malachite,” she giggles. “That’s my collection, you’re not gonna stump me.”

“What the hell is this?” I frown as I examine a weird silvery metallic rock.

“Molybdenite,” Melissa snorts.

“I guess you do know what all of these are,” I finally admit.

“See? I’m smart!” she declares.

“I guess you aren’t a complete idiot,” I sigh.

I hug my sister and tell her to sleep well before returning to my room. Dropping my robe, I crawl into bed wearing just my panties. My bed is nice and warm, and I sigh happily as I get comfortable. I have a double date later today, I need to be well rested!

~Nicole~

“What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I find a guy?” Lizzie sobs while kneeling on her bathroom floor and drunkenly clinging to the toilet.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, nothing at all,” I coo softly as I brush her hair back.

“Heeeaaarrrggghhh!” she heaves, throwing up in the toilet.

“You’re okay, just let it out,” I whisper, holding back the hair of the human train wreck.

Fuck. This smells vile. It smells like she makes a habit of gargling the contents of a porn shoot’s bathroom while eating garlic bread and chugging vodka. I’m tired. I’m tired and I want to sleep. Instead I’m helping my friend who is choosing a random Tuesday night to get drunk and have a meltdown.

Elizabeth Dotson is one of my best friends, one of our core group of five at Ashwood Logistics. From the way we talk and the fact that there’s five of us, sometimes we joke that we’re our own Sluts About Town cast. We each have our own drama and once in awhile our lives do seem like a television show. Of course, none of them know my love of sex is very recent. That might change their minds! A Slut-sister, a Slut About Town, quite strange for a girl with only one male sex partner in her entire life.

Lizzie is a proposal writer and she has her degree in English. In her free time she loves writing and reading smut, which helps her showcase her hopeless romantic side. Standing at just over five feet tall, Lizzie is about the same height as Lexi, making them both a couple inches shorter than I am. Lizzie is lovely, but the couple extra pounds she’s carrying makes her very self-conscious. No matter how often we point out that her huge tits and juicy ass are things guys love. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a pretty face, big boobs; yeah, she has no trouble finding a hookup.

“Why am I such a dumb whore?” Lizzie asks, tears running down her cheeks.

Unfortunately, her low self-esteem tends to lead her to hookup with all the wrong guys. She gets depressed, she gets drunk, and she ends up calling me at two in the morning crying about how she’ll never find love. That’s why I’m kneeling beside her in the middle of the night for probably the fifth time just this year. This is the first time it’s happening on a week night, making things worse.

I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but my bra is in my overnight bag along with my business casual attire. Shoving a skirt and blazer into a bag probably isn’t smart, but I don’t care. I don’t want to waste time going home, so I’ll just sleep here so I can actually get enough rest for work. That’s the hope, anyway.

Lizzie is dressed in a pair of panties and a gray t-shirt. Her bra is long gone, her nipples denting the fabric. I still don’t know exactly what tonight’s issue is; my friend throwing up her liquid meal into the toilet is quite the distraction. However, it seems like she’s done throwing up, so I flush the toilet and get to my feet.

“You should brush your teeth,” I advise once she’s calm, offering her my hands. “Then we’ll get some water in you.”

“Okay,” Lizzie mumbles, taking my hands.

I help her to her feet and get her over to the sink so she can brush her teeth. Lizzie uses some mouthwash to make sure her teeth are clean and the taste of vomit is gone. Then the two of us sit at the kitchen table in her apartment with bottles of water. I take my shoes and socks off so I can relax while we talk.

“What happened?” I ask, leaning toward her.

“I’m a stupid slut,” she sighs, glaring at the water bottle in her hands.

“I was hoping for some details,” I say patiently.

“I had dinner with Nate and his latest girlfriend,” Lizzie replies, her eyes watering.

“Oh,” I wince.

“Yup,” she grunts before taking a sip of water.

Nate is Lizzie’s childhood best friend. He’s a nice guy, but he can be a bit oblivious. Rather than see how much Lizzie loves him, he dates girl after girl after girl. Each new one is torture to Lizzie. Granted, a person can’t help who they’re attracted to, but I just want them to get together. Cleaning up after the constant heartbreak is exhausting.

“Lizzie, it’s the middle of the night,” I point out after over a minute of silence. “I’m an accountant, not a dentist. Don’t make this like pulling teeth. What happened?”

“Nate asked me to meet him at Eduardo’s for dinner,” Lizzie begins. “You know, the Mexican place next to Club Frenzy?”

“We’ve been there together,” I smirk. “Yes, I know both places. Continue.”

“Well, I figured that maybe he finally realized what a great match we’d be. Stupid me,” she sniffles. “I get there and he’s dying to introduce his best friend, that’d be me, to the next in the long line of girls who are prettier than me. Fuck. You’d think I’d learn.”

“Oh, Lizzie,” I let out a breath. “Maybe you should try telling him how you feel? He’s said he thinks of you like a sister, but maybe he just doesn’t realize you want more.”

“Too late now,” Lizzie growls angrily. “She’s his whole world,”

“She’s his fifth world this year, I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” I remind her.

“So, anyway,” she continues, ignoring my response, “we had the most awkward dinner ever as this fucking bimbo hangs off him. Giggling the entire time. I swear, she’s the most annoying girl he’s ever fucked.”

“What happened next?” I inquire, already having a good idea where this is going.

“They left. I went next door to Club Frenzy and had a few drinks. Then some guy bought me a few more,” Lizzie answers. “I blew him in the bathroom. Then his friends found us. I sucked both of them off, too.”

“I see,” I comment with a wince.

“At least, I think it was a bathroom,” she frowns. “Or an office. Something with a door. Oh, and one of them fucked my tits.”

“And then you came home and called me?” I suggest. “You didn’t drive, right?”

“I got a ride on the app, but no, I didn’t go home yet,” Lizzie admits. “I got another drink at the bar and some guy asked me to dance. He was grabbing my tits on the dance floor. They were falling out of my dress.”

“Downside to having big boobs?” I wonder with a shrug.

“I guess,” she mumbles. “Anyway, he fucked me in the back of his cheap car. The damn thing was rusted and falling apart. It couldn’t even be a nice car, Nicole. But, slut whore queen me just lifted my legs and smiled.”

“And then you went home?” I ask again with a wince.

“Yeah,” Lizzie nods. “I didn’t notice my boob was hanging out of my dress until I got inside my apartment. No wonder the driver kept staring at me.”

“Maybe you should talk to someone about your depression, and, you know, your promiscuity?” I propose, lifting my water to my lips and finishing my thought before drinking. “A therapist.”

“Nic? Have you ever eaten pussy?” she asks, ignoring my suggestion completely.

“Ack!” I choke on my water, spitting some of it out.

Shit, shit, shit! Does she know? It’s one thing to be bisexual, but I have sex with my own sister. My best friends might understand, but I’m not ready to tell them. I lightly hit my chest as I cough and struggle to catch my breath. This could be very bad.

“Maybe I’d make a better lesbian,” Lizzie continues, oblivious to my fears. “At least then my partner would know what to do with a pussy. Do you know how long it’s been since someone else made me cum? Fuck, guys can’t even find my clit when I point it out!”

“You can’t help who you’re attracted to,” I tell her. “If you like guys, you like guys. There are some who know how to touch a woman. You just need to find one. If not Nate, someone else.”

Lizzie starts telling me about many of her disappointing sexual encounters. Most of these stories aren’t new to me, so my mind starts to wander. I just nod along as Lizzie repeats the story of getting spit-roasted in the bathroom during her senior prom; a result of seeing Nate happily dancing with his prom date.

There are so many stories out there about guys being selfish in bed, only caring about getting themselves off. More stories of guys being unable to get a girl off even when they try. I remember my own hookups in the past, guys wanting to go back to the bar right after I get them off with my mouth. The few I let finger me can barely find my clit. That’s if I’m lucky.

My friend has a point, why is it so hard for them to find the little nub? Maybe I just don’t understand because I have one. I have no trouble finding the clitoris when I play with my Slut-sisters. They have no difficulty finding mine. Hell, we even go further and stimulate the elusive g-spot.

Lizzie is rambling non-stop at this point, not even looking for a response from me. The current story is another hookup with a guy from a bar. She’s going on and on about the asshole using her like an object before nutting on her face and hair. Lizzie finds out he has a girlfriend when he throws her out of the house half-naked before the girlfriend gets home.

All this talk about bad sex and a lack of a connection is making me miss Steven. I hate that I can really only see him on weekends. There’s just so much going on. In the future, maybe moving in to the mansion will be an option, but not just yet. The relationship is still new. Passionate and loving, but new.

“So, we leave the concert and he takes me back to his truck,” Lizzie rambles on in a sad voice. “He lays a blanket down in the truck bed and gets on top of me. Good thing no one was around. The entire time he’s in me, his body is crushing me. And he was not a small guy. I was just clenching my pussy muscles to try and make him cum so it would be over.”

“That sounds horrible,” I comment.

Lizzie just nods and immediately starts another story. It sounds like she has experience with just about every male stereotype: the entitled rich prick, the two-pump chump, the guy who thinks porn is the same as real-life sex, the moron who can’t even find the hole, and the rough guy who needs to degrade every woman he’s with to get off. Liars, cheaters, and guys who pretend to have feelings just to bang and ditch.

As much as I wanna hug Steven right now, what I really need is for this conversation to end so I can get some sleep for work. Fuck, it’s only Wednesday. Lizzie just keeps talking and talking, and I’m too nice to tell her to shut up. I do have to laugh at her comment that she doesn’t even have time to fake an orgasm before he grunts and shoots.

“He wouldn’t even lick my pussy!” she laments. “I probably blew him a dozen times that weekend, and I let him put it in my ass.”

“Was he the one who made you walk home in the snow the morning after?” I ask, unable to keep track of all these guys.

“No, that was Ted back in college,” Lizzie shakes her head. “I’m talking about Mark.”

“Was Mark the one who called you the wrong name during sex?” I wonder, feeling guilty for not really listening.

“That was Rob,” she rolls her eyes. “He sucked.”

“Right! Rob was the one who had a bet with his friends to see how many girlfriends he could have at once without any of them finding out?” I ask to confirm.

Poor Lizzie, she really does choose the worst guys. Part of me is inclined to blame her, but it really isn’t her fault. Bad behavior is bad behavior. Those guys fucking suck. They take advantage of Lizzie’s low self-esteem, they lie to try and make her feel special. She is special. She just needs to think more highly of herself. And maybe keep an eye out for the warning signs.

Yes, I think he got up to six, including me,” Lizzie nods. “He was actually pretty decent in bed, gave me a couple of nice O’s.”

“At least he ate you out, I guess?” I offer a helpless shrug. “Wait. Is Rob also the one who brought you into a room with his girlfriend for a threesome and just assumed you’d go along with it?”

“No, that was Tony,” she corrects me. “And that was after I had already blown him in a stairwell.”

“College?” I follow up with.

“Yup,” Lizzie confirms. “Tony was a frat guy.”

“Was that the frat that named you ‘Big Titty Lizzie?’” I wonder, wincing when I realize how insensitive I’m being.

“That was a different frat,” she explains. “Jeff came up with the name, I think. Ironically, my last boyfriend was a different Jeff.”

“He cheated on you, right?” I ask.

“College Jeff? No, he just stopped calling after he got bored with me,” Lizzie shakes her head. “Jeff from a few months ago cheated on me at a party.”

“Oh yeah, Jeff was the piece of shit who left you in a bedroom and brought another girl to a different bedroom,” I nod, reaching out to take Lizzie’s hand. “I love you, Lizzie, but I think you need to be more careful with guys in the future.”

“I know I do, it’s just so hard,” she sighs. “I just want to be loved. I’ll jump into bed with any guy who shows me the slightest bit of affection. Yeah, I get horny and I love cock, but I know I need to pick my partners better.”

“There’s nothing wrong with casual sex if that’s what you both want,” I say slowly. “But, we both know you want more than casual sex.”

“I do. I want romance! I want someone to sweep me off my feet. I want someone to look at me like they’d pick me over every other girl in the world. And I want that someone to be Nate,” Lizzie rambles before looking at me sadly. “Oh, and I hadn’t had sex with Jeff at the party he cheated on me at. You’re talking about Paul.”

“I thought Paul was the guy you had a threesome with?” I frown in confusion, releasing Lizzie’s hand to rub my temples. “Didn’t he steal your underwear and hang them up on the frat house bulletin board?”

“No, that was Paul’s brother,” she mumbles. “And that was years ago, dummy. College. Jeff and I broke up a month ago.”

“Sorry, I got confused,” I respond, taking a deep breath as I close my eyes. “Lizzie, I’m not sure what to tell you. I feel horrible that you’re going through all this. Maybe you should stop drinking? It might help. And I really think you should consider talking to someone. You’re emotional, you’re depressed, you have low self-esteem. I know you’re not happy in your life. You should really think about making some changes.”

“Sorry I’m a hot mess,” Lizzie says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” I reply, keeping my eyes closed as I lower my head and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sorry for all the qualifiers, but there really is nothing bad about sleeping around. But, you don’t want to. You want a relationship. You keep doing things you regret. That’s not respecting yourself. You ended up drunk and throwing up a few hours before needing to be at work. If you keep this up, you may ruin more than just your love life.”

There’s no response. Opening my eyes after only about a minute, I see that Lizzie is fast asleep. She’s resting her head on her folded arms and her mouth is hanging open. I’m really impressed with her speed. Head down, out cold. Barely a minute.

Sighing, I slowly get to my feet and stand behind Lizzie. Grabbing her by the armpits, I urge her to stand up. She resists for a few seconds but finally lets me get her to her feet. Lizzie is still half asleep, but I am able to get her to her bedroom and into bed.

Removing my pants, I climb into Lizzie’s bed and curl up on my side. It’s after 4:00AM at this point, and I will have to be up soon to get ready for work. Lizzie’s soft snoring soon fills the room, making it even harder for me to fall asleep.

My mind starts to drift, and I think about my advice for Lizzie. It’s about helping her prepare for a future where she’s happy. I need to start considering my own future. I have a boyfriend who I love, but he’s also dating my sister. And he’s sleeping with several other women. Is this the future I want?

I still have the same dreams from childhood. I want a fairy tale wedding. The man I love standing at the alter as I approach in a white dress. We’ll have a nice home in suburbia, children, a dog. A cat. The dream of so many people. Yeah, it’s stereotypical, but it’s what I want.

Can I have that with Steven? I don’t know. He’s not going to break up with Lexi, he’s having a baby with Hazel, and I’m not even sure exactly how many sex partners he has. Can I marry the same man as my sister. Fuck. What do I do? I love him, but I don’t know! I don’t know how my dreams can mesh with my present.