Power Plays: The Todd Perspective 4

WE DID IT. This fuckin' thing is all the way published on God and Al Gore's internet. Around 44,000 words in total of pure nonsense.

Part 8 was clearly published in a hurry; I missed a fair bit of formatting, accidentally changed verb tenses for a couple of paragraphs…if it were easier to edit on Literotica I'd update it, but instead I'll save the polished version for an ebook. Part 9 only needed a bit of refining, thankfully. I wrote it back in 2017 or '18, when the world was young, and it's been fun to see how accurately some readers predicted the trajectory of Jesse, Todd, and Chrisette. Part 10 was mostly new except for the first section. I wanted to get it out when some folks were still reading the previous sections, but I was pretty burnt out on this whole story. Hopefully part 10 makes sense as a culmination of Jesse's character arc.

Were I to pinpoint when Todd falls in love with Jesse, I'd say shortly after he moves in with them. He gets to see the contrast between how Chrisette always talks about Jesse and the man's day-to-day actions and motivations. Chrisette probably did have to parent Jesse while they were dating, to her credit. I imagine him to be the type of guy who never had real curtains and slept on a bare mattress before her. He always tries his best, but he's just so, so dumb.

So here's the last of Todd's perspective.

Power Plays: The Todd Perspective 3

 Listen, y'all. I've written threesomes before. I've even written threesomes in which the reader is supposed to kind hate one of the participants. This one has been a doozy. After a couple of downer chapters I'm pressuring myself to make the November section a barnburner. For the people. Because erotica. Said people have been very opinionated, which made me want to take the parts I'd already written and tweak them. The trajectory it was on didn't connect to the material I had for the aftermath. What could happen during an event, that Jesse was desperate to go well, that would make Chrisette upset? Poor woman. My apologies to womankind stand.

Note to Self: in the future, just make a super long chapter with the sexy stuff as a palate cleanser for the depression, lest the shorter installments be absolutely hammered in the comments.

August

I’m on a job site in Providence, talking to the foreman, when I get a call. He takes a peek at the scene before I silence it.
“How old’s your son?”
“He just turned one,” I say, and because I know Jesse would blow a gasket if I ever claimed Seth as my own, I clarify. “He’s actually my, uh, my girlfriend’s kid, but he’s the absolute best.”

“Cute,” the foreman says. “Mine all hit a switch right around that time. They were all about mom right until around ten, eleven months maybe? And then suddenly my wife was chopped liver and I was the favorite.”
I laugh. “Seth’s probably in that camp. He says ‘Da da da da’ a lot, and you can’t tell me that’s the best a one-year-old could do with my name. Sorry to his dad, who’s a good guy.”

September

“Todd.”

I straighten up from where I’ve been leaning on the shopping cart, letting Seth pull on my hair.

“Sasha. You’re looking well.”

It’s true, she’s as sleek and gorgeous as ever. Her sharp gaze lands on Seth.

“Is this Chrissy’s kid?”

“Da! Da! Da da da da!” Seth babbles. He does love a pretty lady.

“Yeah, this is Seth.”

She nods with a downturned smile that I know means she’s judging me pretty harshly. “Wow.”

“Oh, it gets worse,” I chuckle. It’s a relief to be able to say it out loud. “I live with them. We sleep like the grandparents in Willy Wonka.”

Sasha’s thick red hair cascades behind her when she throws her head back to laugh. “Are you fucking kidding?”

“Nope. I’d love to pretend like you should have regrets, but no. You were right about everything.”

“Including Jesse?”

“Hah. Well. That one’s maybe worse than either of us thought.”

Her eyes go wide. “Oh shit. You like him.”

“Oh, hi!” Seth says, so I don’t have to reply.

Power Plays: The Todd Perspective 2

I'm getting yelled at in the comments of recent installments (not here, obviously. No one reads this) and rightfully so. I apologize to women. I apologize to people with mental health issues, myself included. I apologize to happy throuples and the polyamorous community. I apologize to therapists, mine included. I apologize to the people who wanted to read a little gay porn for a nice fun time and got trapped in a psychodrama.

For this story to work, Todd has to learn and grow. Most folks I know, and Jesse especially, are slow to notice real change in the people around them, especially if their first impression is bad. Since we never leave Jesse's POV, I've been trying to figure out (for years; I cringe to see the publication date for the first Power Plays post) how to make change clear to the reader even if Jesse's can't see it.

In a story where no one is completely honest with themselves, Todd starts out close to Jesse—who does not allow himself much introspection—and lands closer to Chrisette by the end of chapter 6. By chapter 9 Todd will have the self-awareness on par with Sasha. She's my favorite, if it isn't clear from the way I treat her character.

March

Sasha spots Chrissy before I do and waves her to our table.

“How’s our girl?” she asks as Chrissy sits. I signal our server.

“Ya girl is so fucking pregnant.”

We make sympathetic noises. Chrissy looks healthier than ever, if anything, but I don’t know how pregnancy works. She makes it sound miserable.

“Do you know what you’re having yet?”

Chrisette grins. “Guess.”

“Girl,” I say. Sasha guesses the same.

“With all the girls in my family you’d think so, but nope. We’re gonna have a little boy running around.”

“A mini Jesse.”

Sasha and Chrissy both laugh like I’m being mean, but I didn’t intend it any particular way. He’ll probably be a decent dad, actually. He seems to be most comfortable when he’s needed. Chrisette…I can’t really picture her that way. She always bragged about how she could avoid being stuck with her nieces and nephews at family events.

Power Plays: The Todd Perspective 1

*Y'all, I feel like a real sicko every time I publish another section of this story. Folks really hate these characters! Or so I say to myself, full of vicious glee. However, there isn't much point in posting if nobody wants to follow the story; how unlikeable can Jesse, Chrisette, and Todd truly be before people stop clicking on Stay Away from Her altogether? I think I'm about to find out, because Jesse's going to be put through the wringer right when he thinks he won. Also there's barely any sex for at least a couple of chapters which again is not why anyone reads erotica. Trying to get your rocks off and instead you get a first-person description of a panic attack? No thanks. Down vote.

To make sense of Todd's arc, ever so often I'd write out a conversation that he'd have when Jesse wasn't around. He's somewhere between Neutral Evil and Lawful Evil, though I maintain that people (and therefore well-rounded characters) rarely think of themselves as bad people, even when they doing heinous things. Writing Todd's perspective has helped me refine the main story so that *you can pick up all the things Jesse misses.

There are spoilers in here if *you haven't read the 5th chapter yet, but I'm clearly not worried about anyone finding this blog. The Todd Perspective begins a month before the main story.

*Still nobody. I can see the blog data and it's very funny.

Power Plays Pt. 3.1

 "Just let him take you while your car's in the shop."

I can barely hear her over the rush of water coming out of the shower. "Shouldn't you be going with me?"

"I've already seen it," Chrisette says dismissively. "Just look at the main ranch house, and then it's only, like, one minute east to see that barn that the owners said we could rent for half."

"Why not just do that?"

"Because it's kind of in disrepair."

"I don't know why you think Todd will be of any help." I don't want to go anywhere with him.

Chrisette pokes her head around the shower curtain to swat my ass playfully. "Since you don't like it when I hang out with him alone…" she teases, then ducks back out when I reach for her.

Dear god, if only she knew. "Just come with, baby."

"I can't, Jesse," she says sympathetically. "I have to go to work. Todd said he'd be here at ten."

Fuck that. "I'll see if Scotty can take me," I reply. "He doesn't have shit to do."

"Whatever, that's fine. I gave Todd your number just in case," she adds as she sails out the door.

"You did what now? Chrisette? Hello?"

Before I'm even dressed I call Scott. When he answers he sounds completely distracted.

"Sorry, dude," he finally tells me after I wasted my breath explaining the situation. "I actually am driving Hannah's car today, and I have to pick her up for brunch as payment."

This must be how the Little Match Girl felt as the last flame went out. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I ask. "Crazy Pussy Hannah? Fucking brunch? You hate her!"

"And she hates me," Scott replies, "but that makes the sex a-fucking-mazing"

Even though he can't see it I shake my head. "This is going to bite you in the ass, man."

He laughs, "Come on, son. Everybody gotta stick they dick in crazy at some point. I'm pulling up, so I gotta go. If Hannah thinks I'm talking about her I won't get any road head. She loves giving road head."

"Fuck off, Scotty," I reply.

"You too, man. Later."

The beep of the ended call feels more final than usual. I wait for some sort of fucked up text for the next hour. Get naked and blindfold yourself at 9:57. Some shit like that. If any idiot has stuck dick in crazy, that would be me. Just me letting Crazy get my dick in his ass, and then Crazy turning around and dicking me. This is unhealthy as shit.

When Todd finally shows up I'm so tense that my balls are trying to retreat into my body. The son of a bitch just pulls up to the curb and honks the horn. Todd takes one look at me and goes, "I'm just doing this for Chrissy," when I hop in.

"Me, too, dumbass," I mutter, turning my cap around so I can pull the brim over my eyes. We spend the next forty-five minutes in silence. It gives me plenty of time to figure out how to tell the charming property owner that we don't want to rent her house or her barn. At least, I don't. Chrisette likes the idea of the mason jar, rustic, homespun outdoor wedding. I like the idea of my mother not complaining the whole day.  

When we reach the ranch I hop out without waiting for Todd. Neither do I introduce him to the woman who answers the door. Todd catches up to us as she’s taking me through the open living room.

It's a nice home, but it's never going to work for all of Chrisette’s ancient aunties and uncles. 

"Is it normal for houses this style to have all these levels?" I ask as the tour comes to a close. 

The lady shrugs. "As old as it is, back when they couldn't just even things out with a bulldozer…"

"Chrisette said that you guys need wheelchair access," Todd reminds me.

The woman nods. "Then in that case I do recommend that you check out the old barn. It's a fair-weather-only location, but the whole thing is flat."

I grit my teeth. I knew all that, which is why I asked about all the levels. Todd is just rubbing my face into how much time he spends with the woman I'm about to marry. I get it; you're besties. "Can I poke around there for a bit?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart," the woman says. "I gotta go feed the horses, but it's just two minutes east of here. Keep going down the road; you'll find it."

“We’ll give you a call,” says Todd, shaking her hand. 

We will not do a fucking thing, I don't say as I follow Todd back out to the car. Instead I shut the door a little harder than necessary and make a dumb comment.

"I'm still waiting for you to be useful, bro." It sounds like I'm trying to start a conversation, which is not the case.

Todd raises his eyebrows. "I'm a building contractor for high-end offices and fancy homes, with a background in structural engineering. Did Chrissy never tell you?"

"I have never asked," I respond with pride. Fuck Todd if he thinks I have any interest in him beyond how to legally remove him from this earth. But still, no wonder he can afford such nice shit.

"What do you do?" Todd asks like we're at a Christmas party. How come Chrisette never told him? I know she talks about me, because if her mom or sister don’t answer their phones and Chrisette’s mad at me, Todd is who she calls next.

"Graphic design and a little animation," I respond shortly. It sounds cooler if I don’t add that it’s for a microstock firm and corporate app developers. I've been getting into the graphic novel game a little, cleaning pencil sketches and doing coloration on a freelance basis, but I hate explaining what that means so I don't talk about it.

Todd makes a huh face. "I never would have pegged you as an artist," he comments. “You seem like such a frat boy.”

Chrisette thought the same thing until she got to know me. She and Todd both use frat boy as code for idiot. I wear t-shirts and shorts all the time because I work from home. "I never would have pegged you as a functioning adult. So, we're both surprised."

He looks like he's about to laugh but thinks better of it. “You'd be pretty funny if you weren't such a dick.”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

More Bad Cover Art

It's ya boi. I got a new app, so instead of finishing the stories I've been kicking around for years I've been playing with ebook covers. Have I become a better writer since I was last active on this blog? Unlikely. Have I gotten better at graphic design? Worse, if anything!

Terrible!

Very bad!

HAHAHAHAHA

Anyway, these will all be showing up on Smashwords at some point. You're Lucky I'm Drunk is due for release August  18, so I am furiously polishing the second and third parts and am definitely not procrastinating on Literotica or anything.

Power Plays Pt. 2

Everyone in this story is still the worst. Part 1 is here.

"I told Sasha that we'd go with her and Todd to the movie."

"What?" I look up from my computer. "It's Guys' Night. We're going to Sam's." This wouldn't have been news to Chrisette—the guys and I have been meeting up since we were fresh out of college. I've joined them less since Chrisette and I have been dating, but Wednesdays have always been reserved for Guys' Night. At least, that's what I've been thinking all this time.

Chrisette leans over the couch to kiss my neck. "No, it's Be a Good Boyfriend Night starring Jesse and Todd."

"Why?" I whine as I pull her into my lap. "I still hate that guy." The bastard might be dating another woman, but that hasn't prevented him from horning in on my relationship with my future wife. Or from fucking me that one time.

"And I'm pretty sure you're the only one who isn't over it," Chrisette laughs. I don't know exactly what Todd told her, but I simply said we got in a fight. Chrisette got mad at us both, but she told me she was just glad that the bruises would fade before the wedding. "You just haven't spent enough time with him. Todd has a really dry sense of humor."

"Like a sociopath."

Rolling her eyes, Chrisette pinches my nose. "Grow up, Jesse. It's not your fault if the guy just has more charm—"

My arms tighten around her waist. "More what?" I'm trying to sound like I don't care, because I know that Chrisette is mostly kidding. But still, why even say something like that? Sometimes it feels like Chrisette only makes these comparisons to piss me off.

"Baby," she continues, "you promised you would try to get along with him."

No such promise left my mouth, actually, but I did promise that I would stop complaining when she hung out with Todd. It was pretty much the least I could do after…the fucking. I wish there was another word for it, so I could separate it even further from what Chrisette and I do together.

"I'll try," I say anyway, because I feel like a bastard now.

Chrisette, however, isn't done. "Why don't you sit next to him during the movie?" she asks, stroking the underside of my chin.

I give her a look. "Are you serious?"

She shrugs. "It's not a big deal, Jesse. Don't be so immature."

I pinch her nose lightly. "You know what they say: Resist the devil."

She rolls her eyes. "You dope."

Although Chrisette doesn't pressure me after that, I'm ninety-percent sure that she's still secretly devising a way for me and Todd to become super best buddies forever. More important than anything is being good to my fiancé, though. If we’re going to spend our lives together I’ll have to make some sacrifices; god knows Chrisette has. I text the guys to say that I'm not coming over and grab my wallet.

Chrisette and I have our tickets, drinks, and popcorn before the others show up. I could care less about the movie we’re seeing; it’s some Wes Anderson bullcrap where everything is supposed to be cute. I liked maybe one of his movies before that got old.

"Hey."

Cold chills run down my spine at the sound of the most heinous voice in existence. I turn around to see Todd and poor Sasha.

"Ooh, I like your new glasses!" Chrisette exclaims, throwing her arms around Todd.

Sasha chuckles. "I know, right? He's like a sexy German architect."

Since nobody's paying attention to me I curl my lip. Todd has these really light-colored eyes that make him look like he's always planning something nefarious. The glasses only emphasize that. He sees me glaring at him and winks.

Chrisette is so thrilled that her two best friends are dating, as she tells me multiple times while we wait for Sasha and the jackass to get snacks. "Don't they make a cute couple?"

"Totes adorbs!" I reply with a straight face. I could be smoking a cigar right now, watching the birth of Heisenberg.

She pulls my head down to plant a kiss on my mouth. "Thanks for being a good boyfriend, even if you are a grump right now."

My conscience smacks me over the head a few times. I should be on my best behavior—I'm the only one in this relationship to have actually slept with fucking Todd. Chrisette's soft lips are some comfort. In the battle for her heart, I'm currently winning. Suck it, Todd. You and your architect glasses can fucking suck it.

"Why don't you fine ladies sit in the middle?" I suggest when we walk in the theatre.

Sasha holds up her giant cup. "I am gonna have to pee in, like, thirty minutes. You don't want me on the inside."

Todd laughs. "Why do you even bother?"

Sasha nudges him with her elbow. "Because you'll tell me what I missed."

Chrisette squeezes my hand, and I look down at her. She whispers, "They are so perfect for each other." I don't know; I have a hard time seeing it as anything except a sexual predator and his next tasty victim. Sasha doesn't deserve whatever misery he ends up sending her way.

But whatever, the point is that I am not sitting next to the smug bastard. I head into the row. It’s a small concession to let Todd sit next to my fiancé.

As the lights dim Chrisette pulls a flask from her coat.

"Is it really going to be that bad?" I joke, and she flashes me a naughty little smile. Chrisette takes a swig and passes it down the line.

Todd accepts it and looks over at me. "None for you?" he asks like we're friends.

"My man doesn't drink," Chrisette replies, saving me from having to address the douchebag directly.

Sasha leans forward in surprise. "I didn't know that," she exclaims as she takes the flask from Todd, who's wincing dramatically at whatever Chrisette put in there. "Why not?"

"Family history," Chrisette answers for me again. I guess that's the clearest summary. Then she adds, "His dad is basically a hobo now."

Sasha gives an awkward I know, right? kind of laugh, but Todd just looks at me extra hard for a second there. Thank god the previews start and there's no chance for Chrisette to reveal any more of my history to Sasha and the guy she's fucking. Chrisette settles into me when I put my arm around her, and I relax for a few minutes. At least, until the credits are almost over and both Sasha and she decided they absolutely have to pee right now, immediately, or burst. "Scoot over," Chrisette whispers and I look at her in surprise.

"Just come back here," I whisper back, but Sasha makes exaggerated shooing motions.

"We are both going to have to get up again," Sasha points out, and Todd obediently scoots over to the seat next to mine. Chrisette flashes me a smug little grin.

I send her a text. R u fucking kidding me. Chrisette turns her phone off.

The movie is cute. That’s all there is to say about it, with all the color coordinating and repetitive dialogue and weird characters. I might have been able enjoy it if I had been sitting next to Chrisette. Being cut off from the rest of the group by Todd’s shoulders as he leans over to whisper to the ladies is fucking annoying. It’s just…this isn’t a nice theatre. The seats are really close together, as in sharing an armrest that of course Todd takes over because he’s a prick. And I can smell him; I think he bathes in cologne. Even though I'm burning up I leave my coat on, just to have more barriers between my skin and the asshole sitting next to me.

“Are you sweating?” Todd asks once.

I don’t answer. Part of me wants to give Chrisette a huge I told you so, since sitting two people together in a
theater is not going to make them friends. The instant the credits roll I stand up.

"I'm gonna go pee," I tell Chrisette, not because I actually need to go, but because I'm a raw fucking nerve and I
need to escape. It turns out to be a stupid idea; not ten seconds after I stop in front of a urinal Todd walks into the bathroom.

Todd ignores every other fucking urinal in order to pee at the one right next to mine. This fucking guy. I'm not going to get into a literal pissing contest with him. Our dicks are pretty much the same size. I know this already; there's nothing fucking intimidating about whipping out your cock in front of someone who's already seen it. Without even zipping up I head into a stall. Thank God the asshole doesn't try to follow me in there.

It's lame, but because I can't make myself piss I flush the toilet and listen for the sound of the sink. When the hand dryer goes off I step out. Another bad idea, because Todd turns around and immediately backs me into the stall.

"Your girlfriend is waiting on you," I bite out, cursing myself for getting so intimidated by someone walking fast at me. I could have just moved out of the way. I'm a fucking pussy.

Todd yanks open my jeans and shoves his hand inside. "So's yours."

"Fuck you," I start to say, but a bunch of guys come into the bathroom then, so Todd pulls my face into his neck to muffle it. It is easier with his cheek against one ear and his shoulder against the other. I can pretend that I'm dreaming, that I'm not in a public restroom getting jerked off by my fiancée's straight-ish best friend.

"Lift your feet," Todd whispers harshly. Because I know exactly what I would've done if I'd ever noticed two pairs of adult shoes in a bathroom stall, I let Todd wrap my legs around his waist and brace my back against the wall.

The toilet keeps flushing as the sensor picks up our shifting bodies. That's okay, I guess. It masks the sound of my heavy breathing as Todd's hand glides up and down my cock. He spits on his hand once, looking me straight in the eyes. I want to punch him, but someone would notice.

It's so fucking wrong that I'm hard. Even though I can't help liking the feel of a hand on my dick, it makes me mad. Todd looks so fucking smug right now, his eyes narrowed behind his stupid glasses and smiling when I have to start breathing through my mouth.

"That's it," he says triumphantly when my hips take over and I start fucking his hand. He rubs his thumb over the head whenever it bumps past his fist. It's a shock to my system every time. My feet lock together behind his back, the better to fucking hump his hand with. Oh my god, I want to come. I know it makes me a disgusting human being, but I have to come. Grabbing Todd's shoulders I press my back against the wall; it's cool through my coat, not enough to distract me from the tingling fullness in my balls. I'm gonna fucking come.

Goddam it, I don't want this. I knock Todd's hand off my cock and for a brief moment my feet touch the ground, but he shoves my arm out of his way again and claps his other palm over my mouth. My hips starts that arrhythmic thrust and Todd bites my throat. All I can do is try to breath through my nose and not spasm. My heels dig hard into the backs of Todd's thighs as I start to fuck his hand desperately. I need something to hold onto, something solid so that I don't fly everywhere. It’s on me in a heartbeat—I’m coming, the deep gut-wrenching climax that takes me over. Todd just barely catches the back of my head, cracking his knuckles against the wall as I start shaking. Oh my god, I'm coming so hard, shooting hot, shooting clear, shooting fast with stars behind my eyelids because I can’t keep them open.

When my head clears a second later I realize that I'm wrapped around Todd like a fucking koala. He's going, "Shh, shh, shh." Am I a crying baby? Fuck you, man. Still panting hard, I put my feet down, bracing my hands on the walls for balance. Todd backs up so I can stand on the toilet seat and zip up. He just folds his arms like no big deal, then when I'm mostly de-jizzed he peeks out the stall door and exits.

Deep breath. Count to three. I climb down from the toilet seat and go to the sink. I wish I could wash my dick, my neck, the back of my head—anything that asshole touched. I settle for washing my hands. Todd is leaning against one of the stall dividers, smugly watching me.

"What?" I ask testily.

He gives me a small mean smile. "You make the cutest little cum faces."

WHAP.

Todd's new glasses go skittering across the floor and he almost falls over. My palm stings. Oh, shit, I split his lip. Godammit, why don't I think? Todd retrieves his glasses and inspects them, licking the blood from his mouth. My gut instinct is to apologize, I feel the urge to show no signs of weakness.

"Bro, I think you walked into the wall on your way out," I say. "Must be the new prescription."

That earns me one of those standard Todd side-eyes. "Sure," he replies, "and I'll let you kiss it and make it better."

I shake my head slowly. This is a fucking public place.

"Okay, then you slapped me."

Deep breath in. One. Two. Three. Deep breath out. I march over and grab him roughly by the chin and the back of his neck. I plant a quick peck on his already-red cheek, but of course before I pull back all the way Todd grabs my wrists. I half expected this.

"Kiss it nicely."

I know he means his lip. Ugh. I force my fingers to relax, imagine that it's Chrisette…God, that makes it worse. I'd never hit her. Todd can't just let me get it over with; he puts his hand on the back of my neck and his tongue on mine. I taste blood.

The door swings open and we jump apart. "All better," I say, and Todd leaves. I wash my mouth out. When I rejoin the group Sasha and Chrisette both smack me.

"Ow! What's that for?"

"When someone gets injured, Jesse, you offer to help instead of laughing your ass off," Chrisette says
accusatively.

"Is that what I did?" I reply, giving Todd a disapproving look.

Sasha looks at her snake of a boyfriend. "Are you playing the victim again?"

Todd shrugs. "I'm an opportunist."

"You're a pity whore," Sasha retorts, and I stop feeling so sorry for her. Maybe she knows what she's getting into.