Fabulous Filthy Friend, page 1
FABULOUS FILTHY FRIEND
THE FURY FAMILY SERIES
BOOK 2
GWYN MCNAMEE
Fabulous Filthy Friend
by
Gwyn McNamee © 2020, © 2023
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Tiffany Black and TE Black Designs
Cover Model: Forest Harrison
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Editor: Stephie Walls
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
About the Author
1
FLYNN
Shit.
My dick might have looked better at that other angle.
The harsh glow from the computer screen and the dim lighting in the bedroom cast strange shadows the way it is now. And the last thing I want is for the main attraction to look anything less than absolutely stellar.
After all, it’s what everyone is here for.
The main attraction.
My God-given gift.
That needs to look perfect.
I lean forward to reset my laptop back to its original placement. From this position, my cock can really shine in all its glory. The real star of HRD4U’s website. I initiate the video, stroke my hard length, and comments spring to life on the bottom of the screen, drawing a grin across my lips even though no one watching can see it.
There we go.
That’s what I’ve been looking for.
About time HRD4U.
I feel like we’ve been waiting for hours.
Have you considered my offer to come take care of that for you?
“Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies…and gentlemen. I had another commitment before I could get online tonight.”
A string of hearts and smiley faces appear along the screen—the viewers’ responses to my apology. I really do hate to be late for my performance, but Rachel needed me, and I’m a sucker where Rach is concerned.
She needs something…I come running, without a second thought, no matter what I’m in the middle of or what I have scheduled. That’s what best friends do. And tonight, she needed her best friend’s shoulder to cry on. It didn’t matter that it was painful to watch her breakdown over another guy who didn’t deserve her anyway; I would never leave her if she needs me—in any way.
Ever.
But now, it’s time to forget her dating woes and to make some other people very happy.
“So, what would you like to see tonight?”
I casually stroke my dick and slide my palm over the head, sending a zing of pleasure straight to my balls. A flurry of comments appears, and I try to read them and keep up while still focusing on the job at hand—or in hand, as it might be.
Of course, this would feel a hell of a lot better if a certain woman’s smooth, soft fingers were wrapped around me, if she were the one bringing me the ultimate pleasure. Whispering in my ear. Touching me so intimately. Making me come apart.
But that’s out of the question.
Not when we’ve been best friends for so long, and she only sees me like a brother. The good girl from next door can never be anything but that. No matter how much I might wish for it. And fantasize about it.
She will never see this side of me, never know how agonizing it is to see her every day and know I can’t have her.
These people who watch are the only ones who will see what happens when I think about being with Rachel. How completely even imagining it overpowers my entire body.
And one part in particular…
We want to see you come.
Don’t tease us, HRD4U.
I want to see more.
I want to see your face. Tilt the camera up.
Nope.
That’s never going to happen.
In the almost year since I started doing the webcam thing, I haven’t shown my face or used my unaltered voice, and I don’t plan to anytime soon. Likely, never. The anonymity of being HRD4U allows me the freedom to do this and make some extra cash while still being able to show my face at church and Mom’s house.
It also gives me an outlet for all the pent-up sexual frustration I have from being around Rach every day and not being able to act on my feelings for her. The truth has sat on the tip of my tongue for so long, it’s permanently burned itself there, but each time I’ve been tempted to tell her I want more, I’ve swallowed the words down like a lead weight that sits in my gut and leaches poison to my heart.
It’s miserable, a constantly, dull ache in the center of my chest that reminds me that even I would never be good enough for her. And I won’t risk our friendship just because I have a crush.
Fuck.
Who am I kidding?
It’s more than a crush.
I love her.
And I have since the day I looked out my bedroom window and saw her moving into the house next door almost five years ago. Struggling with the boxes from the back of her car, her hair pulled on top of her head in a messy bun. In cut-off jean shorts and a stained pale blue tank top.
She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen then.
Still is.
It was the kind of instant attraction reserved for fairy tales and romance novels.
The kind that never happens in real life.
But it became something so much more.
Something deeper.
Something that eats away at my heart and soul every damn day.
Five years of being the “friend.” Of going on “dates” that aren’t dates. Of listening to her cry and complain about her shitty “boyfriends” when I know I’m the one who understands her and truly loves her.
All of her.
And that’s precisely what’s kept me from pursuing her.
Because she doesn’t want a guy like me—who watches porn, who likes rough, filthy sex, who lets strangers watch him walk around naked, and who jerks off to make money.
She’d be sickened if she knew.
My sweet Rachel Fury would never be able to look me in the eye again, let alone want to date me.
So, it’s this instead of being buried inside the woman I love.
My hand and an internet full of women—and men—who are willing to pay to watch me stroke myself.
It’s a fantasy world I’ve created out of necessity.
Freedom from the financial, personal, and spiritual pressures crushing me every day.
When I’m like this, I am HRD4U—naked hunk with a magnificent cock. I can’t be Flynn McAllister, mild-mannered stockbroker and financial consultant, and do these things. Flynn would think about what he’s doing too much. Flynn would dwell on it. Flynn would let the Catholic guilt that’s been driven into him since birth eat away at him until he gave himself ulcers.
Which is why I’m HRD4U and try to push all of Flynn to the background during my shows—except his best friend. I can’t get her out of my head for any amount of time, and certainly not when I’m hard and need inspiration for my shows.
I stroke my dick harder and faster, twisting my wrist with each upward movement to create the perfect friction along my length. “You beautiful people want to see me come?”
A stampede of smiley faces, thumbs-ups, high-fives, and hearts hit the screen.
Yes HRD4U!
Give it to us!
We want to see it!
I wish I was there!
I relax back across my bed, close my eyes, and conjure a vision of Rachel leaning over me, her cascade of caramel hair creating a curtain around my face as her lips find mine and she lowers herself onto my dick. Hot and wet. She engulfs my entire length, and her tongue slips into my mouth so I can taste her for the first time.
Fuck.
The sweet glide of our sweat-slickened skin against each other. The lash of our tongues tangling. The moans and pants. The whispered “I love yous” breathed out into the room.
“Fuck! Yes! Ride my cock, baby.” My breath catches as the slow tingle starts at the base of my spine. “Take me hard. Make me come in your sweet cunt.”
The dirty talk always does it for me…and the viewers. It’s become a staple of my performances as much as it has been in my bedroom sin
Another reason Rach and I can never happen. As soon as I open my mouth, she’ll go running for the hills. It isn’t the kind of stuff you say to a kindergarten teacher while buried inside her…
The woman of my fantasies rolls her hips, grinding down on me, and mine bow up to meet hers.
“Fuck, yes. Squeeze me with your pussy. I want to feel you come for me, baby.”
Dream Rachel clamps down on me, and rides me even harder, seeking her own pleasure as mine finally builds until I can’t contain it any longer.
My orgasm slams into me—a tsunami of pleasure and pent-up emotion after spending hours with her earlier. Surrounded by her scent. Enticed by her soft, light touches. Tortured by the tight embraces. Seduced by the easy laughs. Angered by the tears over yet another douchebag.
I shoot my load up across my abs and chest then lie panting for a few moments, trying to blink away the spots dancing across my vision and regain my breath before I look at the computer screen.
Jesus Christ!
That was hot!
HRD4U THANK YOU!
Oh my God my ovaries just exploded.
SO FUCKING HOT!
What I wouldn’t give to have that big thick cock inside me right now. Are you single? I can be over there in five minutes.
I chuckle lightly and lean forward, giving the viewers a show of my cum, spread out and glistening across my skin.
“I am single, but I don’t get involved with any of my viewers.” Which is why I rarely even bother to read the private messages sent to me through the site. After a quick glance, they all end up in the trash bin. One can only reply no to so many propositions before it becomes a tedious, annoying time suck. They’ll have to settle for me in virtual form. “I’m thinking about making pancakes in the morning. Check back in with me or sign up for alerts for when I go live if you want to watch. Have a good night.”
Mine is about to end with me passing the fuck out.
I click off the recording and drop back down onto the mattress with a groan. That floaty, post-orgasmic haze still envelops me, and I linger in it for a few moments because I know it won’t last.
It never does.
I should probably feel like a whore for selling my body like this, letting people watch me jerk off, letting them ogle me walk around my house doing things naked with a hard-on.
But I don’t.
At least, not when I’m HRD4U. When I’m Flynn, when I log off the site, when the real world encroaches on the persona I’ve created, that’s when things get a lot more complicated for me.
Which is why I’ll stay like this a few more minutes. Until the evidence of what I just did chills. I’ll remind myself of why what I’m doing is okay.
It’s a bodily function, something we’ve all done. And for me, it’s a way to make up for the money I lost in the market crash. It’s just a part of life. So is suffering with the knowledge that I’ll never have Rachel as my own.
They’re realities I have to do and learn to live with. But things could be worse. I could still be struggling to pay my mortgage, and Rach could have moved in to some other house all those years ago instead of twenty feet away from my front door in Redondo Beach.
Having her so close might be torture, but losing her would be worse.
Such is my daily agony.
One I’ll start all over again tomorrow.
RACHEL
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, drawing my attention away from the display on my computer screen. The very graphic, very hot display from the very interesting website I just discovered while scouring the internet for some good material…and immediately subscribed to.
Who could be calling at this hour?
I reach over, check it, and accept the call because if I don’t she’s liable to run across the street to make sure I didn’t fall down the stairs and break my neck. “Hey, what’s up?”
Such crappy timing…right when I discovered HRD4U.com and had a mind-blowing orgasm while watching him work himself over.
Alicia fumbles her phone slightly. “Nothing, what are you doing?”
My eyes drift over to my screen, and I tug the comforter up and over me. “Nothing.”
At least, nothing I’m going to admit to.
What I do in the privacy of my bedroom isn’t any of Alicia’s business, even though she thinks it is and I usually end up telling her about it, anyway.
That’s the problem with best friends; they tend to know everything about you, whether you want them to or not. There’s only one thing I’ve managed to keep secret from Alicia and Flynn, and it’s not something I plan on revealing—ever.
Something crashes in the background behind Alicia, and she covers the phone. Muffled yelling—probably at Cade—follows, but she returns with an exasperated sigh. “Are you still wallowing?”
I scoff and roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me. “I was never wallowing.”
Lie.
She snickers, and Cade says something to her in the background, only the lilt of his Australian accent discernable. “Bullshit. At lunch today, you barely ate two bites, and you looked like you hadn’t slept in days. He’s not worth it. That dude was never going to be your happily ever after, and you knew it deep down. It was only two months. It’s not like you were with the guy for two years.”
“I know.” Two months is nothing in the grand scheme of things, and I shouldn’t be so distressed by the breakup. But logically shouldn’t be doesn’t mean I’m actually not. “It still sucks, though.”
Alicia offers a sympathetic sound. “Yeah, it does. Breakups always suck. But Cade agrees with me—you need to move on and not think about that d-bag. I assume you’ve been wallowing all day after I tried to cheer you up with nachos and beer?”
Dammit.
She knows me too well. And I hate that. But the truth is, I would have wallowed all day had I not called Flynn and asked him to come keep me company.
“No. Flynn came over when I got home from lunch.”
Alicia releases a deep, exaggerated sigh, and I can picture her rolling her big blue eyes at me. “Of course, he did.”
I clench my jaw and push myself up until I’m sitting against the headboard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means. Rachel, you can’t have a best friend who’s a guy and expect the guys you’re dating not to have an issue with it.”
Ugh.
I do not want to have this argument with her again. For the one-millionth time. I guess it’s not really an argument, per se, more like a disagreement over the realities of my situation. Alicia means well, and I always appreciate her blunt form of honesty in my life, but I’m sick of justifying it to her—amongst other people. “Flynn and I are just friends.”
“That may just be what you tell yourself, or it may be true. Either way, Flynn is hot. Like, really fucking hot. And that’s intimidating to any guy you’re dating to know you spend that much time with the guy who lives right next door.”
“She’s right, Rach. Flynn is really fucking hot!” Cade’s humor reaches me through the line.
I laugh despite my annoyance. It’s hard to ever be mad at him. “Do you have to talk about stuff like this on the phone with him in the room?”
Alicia laughs. “No, we could come over and do it there instead in person.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Though, it’s a threat they might actually fulfill if it weren’t after ten and Connor and Brandy weren’t asleep.
