Help

Chapter 2 - Help

Reed's mouth stayed open for a long second after the video ended.

The image wouldn't leave Reed alone—Coco's flushed face, the intimacy Pete had captured and then casually placed in front of him.

He couldn't seem to blink it away.

Pete locked his phone and slipped it back into his pocket as casually as if he'd just shown Reed the weather.

They kept walking.

The morning traffic hummed somewhere ahead.

Reed's cock pressed against the zipper of his trousers, thick and insistent, and every step made the fabric drag across the sensitive head. He cleared his throat.

"I'm in the same place," he said.

The words came out rougher than he meant them to.

"Linsey and I…" Reed paused, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "She just doesn't want it the way I do. Once a week, if I'm lucky. Twice if I ask more than once and she happens to be in the mood."

He looked away.

"She's soft with me in every other way. Affectionate. Caring. But when it comes to that…" He exhaled through his nose. "There's just nothing there."

Pete listened without interrupting. When Reed finished, Pete gave a short nod.

"Then why the hell are you only sleeping with her?"

Reed almost laughed. "Because she's my wife."

"She knows you," Pete said. "You've been together since you were kids. She knows what you're like. She knows what you need."

Reed said nothing.

"And every night, you back off when she says no. You respect her boundaries. You don't push."

Pete let that sit for a moment.

"So why does it only work one way?"

Reed's pace faltered.

Pete kept his voice easy. "You've got needs too, man. Wanting something from your own wife doesn't make you wrong for wanting it."

Reed stopped.

His eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying if she can't meet you, she should be the one helping you find someone who can. My girlfriend did exactly that. She introduced me to Coco because she saw I was going crazy and Coco was going crazy in the same quiet way. Two problems, one solution."

Reed shook his head hard. "No. I can't do that."

Pete shrugged. "Then talk to Linsey. Or go to a brothel."

"Brothels are plastic," Reed said.

The words tasted bitter. "Everything there is an act. I don't want a performance. I want what I just saw on your phone. That look she gave you. That sound she made when you were all the way inside her. Real hunger. Real connection."

Pete studied him for a moment, then smiled the same easy smile from high school. "Okay. I can help with that. But the advice is generic. You'll find the same shit on any forum if you look hard enough. The difference is whether you actually do it."

Reed's jaw set. "I'll follow."

Pete typed something on his phone. Reed's pocket buzzed a second later. An address. A time. Tonight.

"Come by," Pete said. "We'll talk more."

They reached the corner and split without another word. Reed walked the rest of the way to the office with the video still playing on a loop behind his eyes and the new address burning in his pocket.

---

The evening light washed the neighbourhood in gold as Reed turned onto their street, his briefcase pulling heavily at his shoulder after the long day. He was halfway to their driveway when he noticed two figures standing near Coco's gate.

He recognized Linsey before he could make out her face. Her laugh carried across the quiet street, bright and familiar, the sound he had heard a thousand times over the years. A moment later, Coco laughed too, her voice lower and warmer, lingering in the air just a little longer.

Coco wore a soft housewife dress: a pale, loose T-shirt that clung just enough across her chest and a long round frock that fell to her ankles. The fabric moved when she shifted her weight. Every curve was suggested rather than shown, and somehow that made it worse. Reed's gaze snagged on the gentle sway of her breasts under the thin cotton, the way the frock hugged the flare of her hips.

Linsey stood beside her in her usual neat blouse and jeans, pretty in the way Reed had always found her pretty. The difference sat in their eyes. One of them still looked like she might open if someone asked the right way. The other had closed that door years ago and left him standing outside it.

Linsey spotted him and waved. "There you are. Coco needs help moving something heavy. You're home, so go be useful."

Reed's stomach tightened.

Helping Coco meant standing close to her, smelling her, watching her move, and then walking away with nothing. He opened his mouth to say he was tired. Coco stepped forward first. Her hand landed lightly on his shoulder and stayed there, fingers warm through the fabric of his shirt. "Please? It's just one pot. My husband is gone, and I can't shift it alone."

The touch was brief. It still sent a jolt straight down his spine. Linsey's expression cooled.

"Reed," she said, voice sharp with the old childhood scolding. "These are the manners you learned living with me all these years? Your mother would be disappointed." Reed handed her the briefcase without looking away from Coco. The contact of Coco's hand still lingered on his skin. He nodded once toward her house. "Lead the way."

They walked through the open gate. In the middle of the narrow path between the gate and the front door sat a massive ceramic pot. A young banana plant rose from the dark soil, its broad leaves already large enough to cast shade. The pot itself looked like it weighed more than both of them combined.

Coco pointed to the left side of the lawn. "I need it over there. The delivery guys left it right in the way this morning." Reed circled the pot once. "You're planting a banana tree in the front lawn?"

Coco's mouth curved. "I like bananas. A lot. The ones at the market are always small. I want the big ones. Fresh."

The words landed with deliberate softness. Reed felt heat crawl up the back of his neck. He bent to one side of the pot. Coco took the other. Their fingers dug under the thick rim at the same time.

When Reed looked up to check her grip, the neckline of her t-shirt fell open. The V of a black bra framed the upper curves of her breasts. The soft white flesh spilled against the dark lace, full and heavy, the skin faintly shiny from the residual heat of the day. The cups were cut low enough that the pink tips of her inverted nipples were almost visible, the tight little peaks just starting to show where the fabric ended. One small shift and they would have been completely exposed.

Reed's cock jerked hard inside his formal trousers, thickening so fast it hurt. He forced his eyes back to the pot and lifted.

They carried the heavy ceramic across the short stretch of lawn in silence. Every step made the muscles in Coco's arms flex and the soft weight of her breasts sway inside the loose shirt. When they set the pot down in the new spot,t they both bent again to settle it. The same view opened for him—pale skin, black lace, the hint of those inverted nipples. His cock was fully hard now, pressing against the front of his pants like it wanted to punch through the fabric.

Coco straightened and brushed soil from her hands. Her eyes flicked once to the obvious ridge in his trousers and then away, a small, private smile touching her mouth.

"Come inside," she said. "Let me get you some water. You look like you need it."

She turned toward the open front door.

Reed followed, the ache between his legs sharp and relentless, the image of her breasts and the memory of the video overlapping until he could barely tell which one was making him harder.

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