Too Hot To Handle – SM 2019 Story #9

Reflection:

In the ninth and semi-final round of the Smut Marathon 2019, we were tasked with writing a humorous erotic story about a love triangle. Below is a brief reflection about my submission, Too Hot To Handle, followed by the story in its entirety.

The very first thing I had to do before writing this story was to figure out what a “love triangle” actually is. Not surprisingly, the internet does not agree on its meaning! But more often than not, it was described as “a sustained sexual and/or emotional attachment between two people, one of whom is in a committed relationship with another person.” So…not a threesome. Many rom-com movies came to mind and I endeavored that this story needed some kind of twist to keep from veering into cliche and have any chance of being humorous. I trashed several ideas before remembering a friend’s story about his real-life encounter with one particularly hot element mentioned in this submission (no spoilers!) and the rest sparked from there. I did worry that despite my being a fan of some slapstick satire (think Zoolander), the humor could come off as sophomoric to readers. But by this round, I was coming around to the idea that I should write what I liked and so I went with it anyway. Reader reviews were mixed although mostly positive – some thought it was hot and funny and others found it predictable and unsexy. Either way, it’s the story that got me past the semi-finals to compete in the last round, so I’ll take it! Read it below and tell me what you think…

Too Hot To Handle

Mateo had never been slapped before. As he thoroughly washed his hands, he gazed at himself in the mirror above the sink. Chuckling aloud, he admired the reddening print on his cheek before sauntering to his couch and opening his laptop. Still grinning, he pulled up the video chat Daisy had so abruptly interrupted when she’d shown up at his apartment, all drenched tresses and tear-stained face. Flinging herself into him, she’d left a trail of snot on his fitted tee, her sobs reminiscent of a howling bobcat.

“That’s it!” Daisy wailed. “It’s over! How dare he do this to me?!” 

Mateo peered over her shoulder and winced when he realized he hadn’t folded his laptop entirely closed. Taking her hand, he led her to the couch anyway, depositing her with a squishy plop. Thoughts of whether the cushion would fit in his clothes dryer or not were postponed when Daisy pulled on his arm, causing him to awkwardly land on her cold, soggy lap. He promptly slid over to the adjacent cushion.

“Take a deep breath and try to calm down. Let me get you some wat…” Mateo began to say as he attempted to stand, but Daisy pulled him right back down. 

“No!” she huffed. “I need to tell you something before I explode!”

Mateo furrowed his brow, but quickly mustered warmth on his face.

 “OK, D. What’s troubling you?”

Instead of answering, Daisy proceeded to fumble with the buttons on her blouse and pull on the satin that clung to her skin. “Help me with this first. I can’t breathe in it, I’m so upset!”

She flung her chest toward him and brought his hands up to her blouse. Mateo gulped. Daisy’s rack was the fodder of men’s legends with its supple hang and nipples that stood at attention even when not aroused. He soon realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. Knowing Daisy, she’d likely figured he’d see it as the desperate oversight of a damsel in distress rather than the calculated move he’d come to expect from her. Typical, he thought to himself, noting that her tears had dried up.

“Alright…I’ll give you a hand. You’re shivering” he acquiesced and quickly undid each pearl button. When he got to the last one, Mateo leaned in close to work the blouse over her shoulders and down her arms. Daisy pounced on the opportunity to lean into him further and plant a soft kiss on his ear before whispering, “I’ve made up my mind, Mateo. I choose you!”

Pulling back, Mateo searched for her aquamarine eyes. He found them drippy with black mascara that clumped at the corners of her sockets with every exaggerated flutter of her eyelashes — not a bobcat anymore, but a hot as fuck raccoon. Pity she had the claws to match. At that very moment, the loud pings of message notifications emanated from his laptop. Daisy looked over at it. Before her gaze could linger, Mateo rose from the couch with the kind of bounce such a declaration should inspire. “But…but, what of David?”

“Fuck David,” Daisy retorted. “I’m convinced he’s up to no good!”

“Really? What makes you say that?” Mateo exclaimed while working hard to ignore the laptop just on the periphery of his vision. 

“I just know, Mat. He’s taken to spending inordinate amounts of time in his office ‘working,’ even when I spend the night!” She stood. “But I’m onto him and anyway…I should have been with you all along.” She headed toward the kitchen. “I need a drink.”

Relieved she was walking away from the laptop, Mateo ushered her forward. “I’ve got some wine open!”

Seconds later, Daisy struggled with her wet jeans, finally discarding them in a puddle on the floor as Mateo pulled the bottle from his fridge. Of course she forgot panties, too, he noticed, reaching for a glass. He turned back to find Daisy primping her hair. It struck him how much he’d have killed to have her naked and wet in his kitchen just a few months prior. But now, it wasn’t raging lust that occupied his mind, but rather amused curiosity. I wonder how far she’ll take this. 

“Ugh,” Daisy griped. “Please don’t tell me we’re drinking that piss you insist on getting from the grocery store!”

“All I got,” he calmly retorted and handed her a generous pour that he knew she wouldn’t eschew despite her uppity inclinations. He continued her previous thread. 

“So you’re all done with David, huh?”

Daisy drained the glass in two long swallows and leaned against the counter, head in her hands, ass jutting from her torso like a perfect, poisoned peach. 

“I don’t want to talk about David, Mat. Let’s talk about us. Our future.” 

She sang the words as she rose to walk toward him, but Mateo retreated. While he was certain that any future with Daisy would be a freight train of beautiful disaster, he didn’t trust himself not to crumble like a shortbread cookie if she touched him again. He flinched and it was then he saw the scheming smile grace her pouty lips like a neon sign blinking — YOU’RE FUCKED DUDE.

Daisy gathered her hair above her head. Her breasts swayed like a breeze loaded with the stench of manipulation as she advanced again. Rising up on her toes, she bit his bottom lip and flicked her tongue across his chin. Mateo’s cock stiffened. He instantly remembered that the last time she’d done that, he’d ended up balls deep inside her, professing his love over and over again like some lovesick Romeo. But then he remembered what came after. He cleared his throat.

“The last time we started like this, the night ended with you confessing you were only with me to make David jealous. That I should get with the program. That I was silly for…”

“Shush,” she stopped him with a finger to his lips. “I was…confused.”

Mateo shook his head.

“A mistake, I swear! David could never make me happy.”

“You were pretty fucking adamant, Daisy.”

“I’m pretty fucking adamant now, my love!”

Mateo stood as still as a teenage boy who just realized he could see his hot neighbor undressing from his bedroom window.

“Here, let me prove it…”

With that, she slid his cutting board into the sink and brushed away the remnants of his meal prep to clear the counter. Then, heaving herself up on to it, she faced him, spread her legs wide, and leered at him wickedly. 

“Don’t resist me, Mat. We can get past all that shit with David. Come and kiss me…here.”

Her right hand slithered from her belly to her pussy, which she patted with wanton intention. Mateo sighed and almost surrendered. But the amusement on her face soon had him replaying that scene from Star Wars when Admiral Ackbar warns, It’s A Trap! 

Undeterred, Daisy spread her thighs even wider and brought her heels up onto the counter for support. Free to use both hands, she parted her lips and slipped her practiced fingers between the folds, alternating between caresses to her clitoris and teasingly inserting them in and out of her pussy. When she moved one finger down lower, to run circles over her twitching rosebud, Mateo knew he was a goner.

“Fuck it” he muttered and started toward her. 

Her sudden exclamation stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh fuck! What…the fuck?!”

Daisy leaped off the counter, landing with such force that she struggled to get back to her feet. Mateo lunged to assist, but she was jumping around like a drunken kangaroo and clutching her pelvis.

“What’s wrong?!” Mateo entreated, trying to keep pace with her. 

“It burns! Fuck! Shit! Something is burning me!” she shouted.  

“What burns?” Mateo puzzled. “Your…your pussy burns?”

Daisy didn’t answer. Instead, she hopped to the sink, turned the faucet on full blast, and furiously splashed handfuls of water between her legs. When that proved futile, she shoved past him and hobbled toward his bathroom. Mateo began to follow but doubled back to the kitchen examining first the counter and then the sink. It was then he noticed the errant remains of the jalapeno he’d cut up earlier to make dinner. Gliding his finger across the wet sheen on the counter Daisy had just occupied, he smelled it. Took a taste. Yup. Jalapeno juice!

He’d tried to help her. Even suggested some ice might soothe the sting. But she’d have none of it.  Her speedy exit was dramatic, of course — the coup d’état being that slap to his right cheek. Mateo felt a stab of pity at the thought of what jalapeno juice might feel like on his own sensitive areas. But then David answered the video chat, smiling mischievously with his magnificent cock already in hand, and all thoughts of Daisy evaporated. Mateo grasped his own cock and smiled back.  

“So, where were we?”