Chapter 20
The clatter of silverware and the low murmur of Sunday brunch surrounded their dining hall table, a familiar symphony of their new ritual. Sunshine streamed through the window, illuminating the remnants of avocado toast and half-empty coffee cups. Bella pushed a stray piece of arugula around her plate, her usual chatter replaced by a contemplative silence that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Earth to Bella,” Chloe chimed, tapping her fork against her water glass. “You’ve been quiet ever since you texted that Brandon guy back. Everything okay?”
Bella set her fork down with a soft sigh. “Yeah, no, it’s fine. Things with Brandon are… great, actually.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s just… it’s different. Jason was all over my…” She gestured vaguely at her chest. “You know. He loved them. Brandon… he doesn’t seem to even notice they’re there.”
Chelsea, ever pragmatic, nodded thoughtfully. “Some guys are just neutral to the enhanced life. If he didn’t like them, trust me, he’d probably have said something by now or just faded away. He’s still texting you, right? Still wants to hang out?”
“Yeah,” Bella admitted. “We’re working out again later.”
“See?” Chelsea said with a confident smile. “He just likes you. The whole package. Don’t overthink it.”
“And Jason was a tool,” Sophia declared, not bothering to mince words. “He only saw the artwork, not the artist.” She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “What you need to do is just fuck Brandon already. Let him get his hands on them. Then you’ll know. Either he’ll love them and you’ll have amazing, celebratory sex, or he’ll be weird about it and you can ditch him. It’s a win-win.”
Bella burst out laughing, a flush creeping up her neck. “Sophia! God.”
“I’m serious!” Sophia insisted, laughing with her. “Life’s too short for this ‘will he, won’t he’ nonsense. You’re a gorgeous, sexually awakened woman with fantastic tits. Use your resources.”
“She’s not entirely wrong,” Chloe added, a more gentle smile on her face. “But back to the running thing... if you’re genuinely worried about the… logistics… of it all, you should look for an online community. There are forums full of women who’ve had work done. You could ask them about running with bigger implants. Get some real-world advice.”
The conversation swirled around her, a cocktail of good-natured teasing and genuinely sound advice. They were right. All of them. The confusion with Jason, the easy connection with Brandon, the lingering ghost of Mark’s experienced touch—a ghost she briefly mentioned as an older summer fling, carefully omitting the threesomes and Nikki’s tutelage. And underpinning it all, the quiet, persistent hum of want. I do have boobie greed, she admitted to herself, the confession a relief. I wouldn’t mind going bigger. The fear of losing her running prowess was the only thing holding her back.
But Sophia’s suggestion lingered, a provocative whisper in Bella’s mind. Bang Brandon already. The idea sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of anticipation and nerves that she hadn’t felt in a while. She hadn’t **84** with anyone since Mark, that older man from the beach who had introduced her to a world of pleasure she still thought about often. Sure, she’d gotten plenty of use out of her new dildo, but it just wasn’t the same. There was something about the heat of another body, the hands, the breath, the connection that no toy could replicate.
Her body ached with a familiar longing, a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for months. The thought of being with Brandon—someone younger, closer to her age, yet still experienced—sent a fresh wave of daring heat through her. Maybe Sophia was right. Maybe it was time to stop overthinking and just let herself feel.
“You know what?” Bella said, her voice firmer now, a new resolve settling in her. “You’re all right. Even you, Sophia.” She gave a wry smile. “I think… I think I need to just see how things go. Really see how they go.”
The knowing looks and encouraging smiles from her friends were all the confirmation she needed. The brunch ended with plans for the next week, but Bella’s mind was already hours ahead, focused on the gym, on Brandon, on the delicious, terrifying prospect of taking that next step.
*
The campus gym was quieter this time, the late afternoon crowd thinning out. Bella’s heart was a frantic drum against her ribs, a rhythm entirely separate from the steady beat of the workout music pumping through the speakers. She’d worn the same outfit as last time—the high-waisted leggings, the sports bra—but it felt different today. It felt like a promise.
Brandon was already there, setting up a bench. His smile when he saw her was just as easy, just as genuine, but Bella now saw the subtle flicker in his eyes, the way they dipped to her chest for a half-second before meeting her gaze. He’s aware, she thought, a thrill coursing through her. He’s just polite.
The workout was a study in agonizing, exquisite tension. His hands, as he guided her through a new set of lifts, felt like brands on her skin. When he stood behind her to check her form during a squat, his body heat radiating against her back, his breath ghosting her neck, she nearly stumbled.
“Easy there,” he murmured, his hands steadying her hips. His thumbs pressed into the firm muscle of her glutes, and a sharp, wanton jolt of pleasure shot straight to her core. She sucked in a breath, grateful he couldn’t see the flush she felt spreading across her chest.
She could smell the clean scent of his sweat, see the corded strength in his forearms as he lifted weights beside her. Every glance, every accidental brush, fed the coil of desire tightening low in her belly. The gym, once a place of focus and discipline, had transformed into a crucible of pure, undiluted anticipation.
Their post-workout trip to the student union was a blur. She barely tasted the fries they shared. All she could focus on was the line of his jaw, the way his throat moved when he swallowed his drink, the intent way he listened to her. The sun had set by the time they reached her dorm, and the familiar lamppost cast its yellow glow like a spotlight on the stage they were about to set.
“I had a good time,” he said, his voice a little lower, a little softer than usual.
“Me too,” she breathed, her own voice husky.
This time, when he leaned in, she met him more than halfway. The kiss was not like the tender, questioning one from before. It was deeper, hungrier, laced with the pent-up energy of their entire workout, their entire week of flirting. She felt the low groan rumble in his chest as her hands came up to tangle in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.
When they broke apart, both were breathing heavily. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide. “Bella…” he started, but she didn’t let him finish.
“Do you want to come up?” she asked, the words leaving her lips in a rush. No more overthinking.
His answer was another kiss, harder this time, more possessive. He nodded against her mouth. “Yes. God, yes.”
The walk to her room was a fever dream. Her fingers fumbled with the keycard, her entire body humming with nervous energy. The door clicked open to reveal the thankfully empty room—Alicia was out, as usual. The second the door shut behind them, sealing them in the semi-darkness, Brandon’s hands were on her again, pulling her back against his chest. His mouth found the sensitive spot beneath her ear, and she melted into him with a gasp.
He turned her around to face him, his gaze dropping to her chest, finally allowing himself the long, appreciative look she’d been waiting for. “They’re perfect, Bella,” he breathed, his voice full of awe. “Just the right size. I’ve been trying so hard not to stare, but damn… they’re incredible.”
The confession unlocked something inside her. All the anxiety, the wondering, it evaporated. He knew. He saw them. And he liked them. A wave of pure, unadulterated lust washed over her.
“Don’t stop staring,” she commanded, her own boldness surprising her. She reached for the hem of her sports bra and pulled it over her head in one fluid motion, letting it drop to the floor.
The cool air hit her skin, and then his heated gaze followed. He just looked, his eyes tracing every curve, every shadow. “Fuck,” he whispered, the word a prayer.
He closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to finally, finally cup the weight of her breasts. His touch was reverent at first, then more sure, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples, making her arch into his palms with a sharp cry.
“Is this okay?” he murmured, his mouth descending to hers again.
“More than okay,” she gasped against his lips.
He walked her backward until her knees hit the edge of her bed, and she sank down onto the mattress, pulling him down with her. His body covered hers, a delicious, solid weight. She could feel the hard length of him pressing against her thigh, even through their clothes, and she rolled her hips instinctively, seeking friction.
He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. “I want to see all of you.”
His hands went to the waistband of her leggings, and she lifted her hips, allowing him to peel them down her legs along with her panties. He tossed them aside, his eyes **94** in the sight of her, completely bare and sprawled across her comforter. The hunger in his expression was the most potent aphrodisiac she’d ever experienced.
He stripped off his own shirt and shorts with hurried, eager movements, and then he was there, kneeling between her legs, his body gloriously naked. He was lean and hard everywhere, exactly as she’d imagined. And he was fully, magnificently erect.
He leaned over her, bracing himself on one arm, his other hand skimming down her stomach, through her neat, waxed curls. She was already slick, aching for him. His fingers found her center, and she bucked against his hand as he stroked her, a low, approving sound escaping him.
“You’re so ready,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
“Please, Brandon,” she begged, the last of her hesitation vanishing. “I need you. Now.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He positioned himself at her **103**, the blunt head of his cock pressing against her. He held her gaze, his eyes asking one final, silent question. She answered by wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
With one slow, deliberate thrust, he filled her completely.
A ragged moan was torn from both their throats. The feeling was exquisite, a perfect, stretching fullness that wiped her mind clean of everything but the sensation. He was substantial, stretching her in the most delicious way, and the weight of his body on top of hers was an anchor in the storm of pleasure.
He began to move, setting a deep, rhythmic pace that had her clutching at his back. Each thrust was a revelation. She could feel every inch of him, the friction building a brilliant, coiling heat deep within her. His mouth found her breast, his tongue laving over her nipple before drawing it into the hot wetness of his mouth, and she cried out, the dual sensations overwhelming.
“God, Bella,” he groaned, his voice strained. “You feel… you’re amazing.”
His words spurred her on. She met his thrusts, rolling her hips, chasing the pleasure that was building to a fever pitch. The room filled with the sounds of their bodies moving together, their ragged breaths, and the soft, slick sounds of their joining. She could feel the muscles in his back flexing under her palms, the sweat-slicked skin, the utter power he was keeping carefully leashed for her.
She felt herself tumbling toward the edge, the world narrowing to the point where their bodies were connected. Her climax built, a crashing wave of sensation, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she fell over the edge with a broken sob. Pleasure radiated out from her core, washing over her in relentless, shattering waves.
Feeling her clench around him, Brandon’s control snapped. His thrusts became harder, faster, losing their rhythm as he chased his own release. With a guttural cry that was pure need, he buried himself deep inside her, his body shuddering as he came.
He collapsed onto her, his weight a comforting pressure, his face buried in her neck as they both struggled to catch their breath. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Bella could feel the frantic hammering of his heart against her own, slowly beginning to decelerate into a steady, heavy rhythm.
Bella sighed contentedly, her fingers trailing lazily down Brandon’s spine, but a flicker of unease crept into her blissful haze. “Alicia could be back any minute,” she murmured, her voice still thick with satisfaction.
Brandon lifted his head slightly, his warm breath brushing her neck. “Right,” he said, though reluctance tinged his tone. He pressed a soft kiss to her collarbone before pushing himself up, the motion slow and deliberate, as if every inch he moved away from her was a small tragedy.
She watched as he stood, his body still glistening faintly in the dim light. He reached for his shorts, pulling them on with ease, but paused to glance back at her, his eyes lingering on where she lay sprawled across the bed. “You’re incredible,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “I mean that.”
Bella felt a flush of warmth at his words, a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, though her heart was still racing from the intensity of it all. She sat up, reaching for her discarded sports bra and slipping it back on, suddenly hyper-aware of the possibility of Alicia walking in.
Brandon pulled his shirt over his head, his hair tousled in a way that made him look even more boyishly handsome. He stepped closer to her, cupping her face in his hands and pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “We’ll do this again,” he promised, his voice soft but firm. “Soon.”
The word sent a shiver through her, equal parts anticipation and relief. “I’d like that,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
He grinned, the playful confidence she loved about him shining through. “Good.” He stepped back, grabbing his water bottle off her desk. “Text me later?”
“Definitely,” she replied, watching as he made his way to the door. He paused one last time, giving her that same smoldering look that had unraveled her earlier, then slipped out into the hallway, leaving her alone with the memory of his touch.