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She read it the day I sent it—not even ten minutes after I sent it. I thought for sure I’d hear from her.
But no response.
I peer into my fridge, but nothing looks or sounds good. I grab a glass of water and chug it.
I think about this past weekend, how I went down on her in the dressing room of the bridal boutique.
I’m instantly hard.
My dick aches as I think about walking in on her dressed in bra and panties the exact same shade as her peaches-and-cream skin. How shocked I was to see her like that…and how instantly I was turned on…
I let out a groan.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, I close my eyes and replay that moment in my head.
I think about the way the delicate skin on her chest flushed red when she saw me. I think about how her nipples poked through the lace fabric of her bra, how hard they felt.
How she grabbed my face and kissed me.
How sweet her tongue and lips tasted.
How soaked her panties were when I dropped to my knees and positioned myself between her legs.
That raspy mewling sound she made when I touched my tongue to her throbbing clit, how she had to cover her mouth with her hands because she was getting so loud.
How she yanked her hand through my hair while grinding against my face when she came.
Pleasure rockets through my dick. It’s throbbing so hard it almost hurts.
I open my eyes, annoyed with how turned on I am…and what I’m about to do.
I yank down my sweatpants and palm my dick in my hand.
I groan. Partly because it feels good. And partly because I’d give anything to feel Tori’s touch instead of my own.
But that’s not going to happen.
Judging by the radio silence from Tori these past several days, she’s not interested in picking up where we left off in that dressing room.
Which is weird because she seemed to enjoy what we got up to—she seemed into me and seemed like she wanted to do even more dirty stuff together.
But something must have changed. Maybe when the post-orgasm cloud drifted away, she had a moment of clarity, realized that moment in the dressing room was a one-off, and wasn’t interested in doing more with me. Maybe she regretted it.
Or maybe between then and now, she met someone else—someone she likes better.
An ugly feeling rips through me, stalling the arousal burning hot inside of me. I instantly still my hand.
That’s against the rules we set up for our fake relationship…but so was hooking up and the two of us happily broke that one.
Maybe that’s it. Tori’s a sweet, funny, and stunning woman. Most guys I know would trip over themselves for just a chance with her. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if some other guy chatted her up and she decided she liked him more than me, her cocky best friend who jokes around all the time.
But my brain…and my dick…don’t want to think about that right now. All they want to focus on is that hot moment with Tori in the dressing room.
I huff out a breath and glance down. This hard-on isn’t going anywhere. I need to do something about it. Right now, what I need is a physical release, no matter how messed up that may be.
I close my eyes again and let myself think of Tori, her sweet sounds of arousal, how rough she got with me when she came…
I jerk myself slowly, trying to pace myself. If I wanted to, I could make myself come right now, I’m that close. But I want to draw it out a little. I want to let my dick and my brain get lost in the pleasure a little bit before reality sets back in.
