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I mean, he steps inside her room and I stare at him in shock, standing right in front of her closet and unable to turn my head, my body, or anything else. I’m just, I don’t know, paralyzed. It’s like that old game, freeze tag. Except I’m not frozen like some sort of an animal or a machine waiting for someone to tag me so I can move and they can guess what I am.
There’s no need to guess.
I’m a twenty-two year old girl and the only crush I’ve ever had is standing a few feet away from me just staring at me.
I feel like I’m going to faint.
Holy shit, Clay knows that I keep my pussy completely bare.
Clay knows what my pussy looks like.
Clay knows exactly what my pussy looks like and it’s like I’m unable to turn away or cover up to minimize the humiliation involved!
Chapter Two
I can’t turn away.
I mean, I desperately want to turn away but I can’t. I just stand there staring at him. Yeah, I stare at him like he’s the one who’s a spectacle right now and not me. Somewhere in the back of my head I realize that Clay is the first man who has ever seen my pussy. I guess in another world, that might be a very significant and very special thing, right?
I can’t move!
I just stand there, and I realize I wish that I were completely naked. It just feels like it would be less, I don’t know, everything! I mean, it seems like it wouldn’t be so completely screwy if I were naked from the waist up, too. Instead, the shirt is tight and just seems to highlight the fact that this whole situation exists.
“Don’t you think maybe you should cover up, Katie?” Clay asks.
I think I’m going to faint. I manage to whimper a little as I nod my agreement. Of course, I still can’t move. I feel a tear roll down my cheek. He crosses the distance to me, and I’m instantly filled with paralyzing, absolute terror. It’s a crazy thing to feel given how many times I’ve imagined him walking to me while I’m naked or partially naked. Those thoughts always end up leading to orgasms so it’s crazy to find them so terrifying.
I can’t stop staring at him in terror!
He walks right to me and then reaches past me. I feel his arm over my shoulder, and it’s almost electric. His hand comes back and I feel something over my shoulders. It takes me a moment to realize he’s gotten a robe on me. I let out another whimper as he pulls it together and ties it. I look down and see TJL. Teresa Jane Lipton. TJ. My best friend’s robe, put on me by my best friend’s brother.
“There you go,” he says.
I break down immediately. “Oh!” I wail and start crying like crazy. I mean, I feel completely humiliated and shamed. I mean, I know there’s nothing wrong about being caught naked. It’s not like I was naked on TJ’s bed with my legs spread while I masturbated or something. It’s nothing like that at all. I’m just nude from the waist down as I’m figuring out what I’ll wear. There’s no reason for this to affect me so powerfully. But it does, and I cry like a baby, just wailing helplessly and hopelessly as Clay holds me.
Clay holds me.
I don’t even realize that until I’m well into the sobbing. Once I realize it, it’s a really comforting thing to be able to cling to him. It’s crazy, I suppose, to get comfort like this from the very man who makes the whole situation so humiliating. I mean, I think any other guy seeing me that way wouldn’t be a big deal. Sure, it would be embarrassing, but that’s not the same as being completely humiliating, right?
To Clay’s credit, he doesn’t try to get me to talk. He doesn’t try to reassure me. He just holds me as I cry, gently stroking my hair with one hand while he holds my back with the other. He holds me while I cry and when I finish crying and I’m just clinging to him, he moves us so we’re sitting at the foot of TJ’s bed. I’m still holding on to him, and he’s still gently stroking my hair as he holds me. I can’t believe how comforting it feels when it seems like it ought to feel humiliating.
Of course, it is humiliating.
But there’s something okay about that. Don’t ask me to explain it except that I feel safe and comfortable. You know, if I were humiliated and then TJ was holding me, I would be okay. The humiliation would suck but there’s something about being held by someone you trust completely, someone it’s okay to feel humiliated in front of, if that makes sense.
I guess that’s how I feel about Clay as I hold him. I feel like I’m humiliated but now I’m okay. The humiliation is terrible but he’s comforting me afterward. It’s like he’s no longer why I feel humiliated. It’s like the actual specifics of the humiliation are all secondary, if that makes any sense. What matters now is that he makes me feel better, and I feel a whole heck of a lot better because of him holding me.
Anyway, eventually, he lifts me back a little. “All better?” he asks.
I blush a little and say, “Yes. All better.”
He smiles and then gently strokes my cheek. “Okay. I was picking up TJ’s paperwork to fax to her. I’ll be gone for the rest of the day. You have everything you need?”
I nod and he says, “Awesome.” It’s only then that we fully disengage. As he gets up and finds a folder with TJ’s documents, I find myself so desperate for him that I can barely think. It’s strange because it was already a pretty damned remarkable thing to go from feeling completely humiliated to feeling comforted and safe. Now, though, it’s like the humiliation is gone altogether. All that matters is how hard I’m crushing on him and how damned overpowering it feels to be so turned on by him.
So, I suck his cock.
Yeah, I know. I’m jumping ahead.
