AllFreeNovel
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You are the music.
It’s only about a five minute drive to my house from here, when I don’t hit any red lights. And tonight seems to be my lucky night.
Turning onto our gravel driveway, I lower the volume on the radio, still singing to the Breaking Ben song that just started playing, my fingers squeezing and twisting the steering wheel.
Once parked, I quickly hop out, and head for the house.
The sun has now fully sunken over the mountains, leaving just the stars and a sliver of moonlight to go by. That is until I draw closer to the porch, and the motion sensor light kicks on.
Once inside, I hear Mom yell out from the kitchen, “Mason, that you?”
“Yep.” Not breaking stride, I ascend the steps in a jog. “Gotta shit. Will be back down in a sec.”
“Mason Dean!” Mom admonishes at the same time Phoebe giggles loudly and starts chanting, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
Grinning to myself, I shake my head as I hear Mom start scolding her, and Phoebe’s, “It’s just a word, Mom.”
She’s ten now, and more of a handful than ever, testing boundaries any way she can.
Probably doesn’t help that I encourage it when Mom’s not looking
She’s going to be a nightmare one day. I can’t wait.
Bypassing my bedroom, I head straight for the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind me, and flipping on the light and vent in one sweep. A buzzing fills the room, immediately followed by the loud rumble of our shitty vent—something I’m currently grateful for.
Heart pounding, I flip the lock, and stride across the room for the sink.
What are you doing, what are you doing, what are you?—
My racing thoughts grind to a halt the second my hands slam down on either side of the counter, and my gaze snaps to the one looking back at me from the mirror.
I delve deep into my pale blue gaze, looking for…something.
An answer.
An explanation.
My jaw twists to the side, a muscle ticking in the corner. Nostrils flare. A faint sheen of sweat clings to my temples, and my light brown hair curls up every which way, all knotted from the drive home.
I just need to…
I squeeze my eyes shut, and conjure up images from earlier—Izzy splayed out on the bed, nipples beading up between my fingers. Her wet slit clenching around my tongue, my fingers, my cock…
The hints of something sweet and floral that seem to cling to every inch of her skin—her newest favorite scent, and which she’s bought everything in. It has a fancy as fuck name I can never remember, though the collection she uses is apparently just some sort of knock-off of the expensive original version.
Head hanging, I reach between my legs, digging the heel of my palm in my bulge. I came not even an hour ago, and that was the third time today. Not that Izzy and I normally have sex all that often, especially lately—usually just a couple times a week, if that. Until today, it’s been weeks. She’s been so swept up in practicing for the upcoming showcase—the reason they’re leaving for Florida in the first place.
Because why do it in New York City, where the school’s actually located, when you can do it however thousand miles away in paradise instead?
Focus.
Gritting my teeth, I straighten, and pop open the button on my jeans for some relief, fumbling in my haste. The zipper’s not even halfway down when I start shoving everything over my hips, boxers included, baring myself.
I spread my legs as far as I can, and squirt some soap on my palm, before fisting my length.
“Izzy, Izzy, Izzy,” I murmur.
Maybe I should feel bad, jerking off to her. Why I even think I should feel bad, I have no idea. She’s my girlfriend. I’ve done it before. This time though…
