I flipped through the channels on the television. Hazel’s shower turned on, with her bedroom door wide open. The sounds of the water thudding on the tile calmed me. Everything was like normal; we were simply roommates who had our usual patterns, like showers.
Then she glided down the stairs, her hips bare, her entire, supple body exposed, the red and purple lashes mimicking a sunset on her back. Her squeezable ass. Those bare thighs. The rope burns like jewelry on her wrists and ankles. Her breasts tender, red, her nipples swollen and puffy. I hadn’t touched them with my hands. But I wanted to. To pinch and squeeze and bite and suck.
Hazel bent over, her ass to me, showing off her folds, wet and needy. I wanted to lick her, to taste her desire. She picked up the laptop. I caught half of a smirk before she turned towards the stairs, leaving me alone. Cock thickening. She slinked up each step, an exaggerated sway to her ass. Those marks I had given her would burn on my palm. As part of aftercare, I could rub her down with lotion or oil, something soothing, and make her feel good…
But I couldn’t.
The music started blaring from her phone’s speakers. A thought flashed through my brain: turning on the security cameras I had placed in every part of the apartment, flipping to the right channel to watch her in the bathroom. Switching to her bedroom. Seeing her spread her legs.
This was outrageous. I turned off the television and went upstairs. I had earbuds somewhere. I could close the bedroom door, turn out the lights, and sleep. White noise at full blast. It was late anyway. Anything to get my mind off of that beautiful, naked woman in the room next to me.
I laid in bed, smelling her on my sheets. Damn it. That coconut, citrusy scent, mixed with her skin smell, lingered everywhere. It had been weeks since she had crawled into my bed and slept beside me. But her scent was still there somehow.
The shower turned off, the pipes in the walls falling to silence. I grabbed my phone, busied myself reading the news, anything to distract me from her.
But Hazel was having none of that.
She knocked on the door frame, a small blue towel hugging her waist, barely hiding the gorgeous body underneath. Her skin was glowing, tinted pink from the heat, and she gestured at the floor.
“I forgot my shirt,” she said.
She leaned over and opened the towel for a moment, a glimpse of her mouth-watering breasts hanging down as she dipped. Picked up a shirt off of the ground. My shirt. Her nipples were hard and thick, skimming the edge of the towel before covering herself again.
Her scent was stronger now. Damn it. I couldn’t sleep like this. Not with this tension aching in my groin.
Jerking off, though momentarily satisfying, would only reinforce my attraction to Hazel. I couldn’t let that happen.
I ripped off my shirt and put on some gym shorts. I went to the master bedroom and started lifting weights. The punching bag. All of this aggression. Until I was breathing heavy, and I could focus on something other than her.
