He frowned. “Wait, but what about lunch? You just got here.”
“I’m really not hungry. Butyoushould probably eat something before you embarrass yourself in front of your coworkers any worse,” I said. “And do yourself a favor: take an Uber home.”
With that, I stalked off the court.
Later that night I was still frustrated and annoyed, even after I’d edited a round of recent DRM photos and made lemon pasta and salmon for dinner. I tried to walk it off by taking Munchkin on a jog afterward, but if anything I was even more wound up by the time we got home. Exhausted, he plopped down on his bed in the living room and started snoring almost instantly while I cleaned up all the dinner dishes in the kitchen. After I showered, I burrowed under my covers, replaying Ford’s actions at the country club in my mind.
I didn’t understand what he was trying to prove. But while my rational brain still had misgivings about his methods, my body couldn’t stop remembering how it felt to be touched by him. The way his hands had trailed hotly over the curves of my hips, my waist, my ass.
He’d behaved himself during our tennis match, further proving that his comments had all been for show, but now, alone in my apartment, I couldn’t help pretending the sexual innuendos were real. That last night, the two of us really had done all the things he’d insinuated.
All. Night. Long.
I got hot just thinking about it, tension making my stomach tight, forcing me to squeeze my thighs together against the ache there. What would it be like for Ford to take my virginity? For him to push me against a wall and kiss me, his hands going up my skirt, palming my ass.
Rolling on my side, I dug around in the drawer of my nightstand, realizing that I still needed to put fresh batteries in my vibrator after it had abruptly died on me last time I used it.
Thankfully it let out a low, steady buzz when I switched it on.
Settling back against my pillows, head against the headboard, I closed my eyes and imagined Ford’s face. The intensity of his eyes, the wickedness of his grin. I imagined his smiling mouth against mine, kissing me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth. Getting more aggressive, moans coming from the back of his throat, showing me how much he wanted me.
I slipped the vibrator between my legs, letting it rest against the fabric of my underwear so we could both warm up. It didn’t take much to push me over the edge, thanks to my lack of experience, so I tried to take it slow whenever possible. Draw it out. Remove all expectations and any sense of pressure, just letting myself coast.
He’d press me up against the wall—in my fantasy it was after hours at the country club and we were alone, the bar empty and quiet, just the two of us and the echo of our desperate breathing. Ford would have one hand wrapped around my ponytail, tugging firmly, sending little shocks of pleasure across my scalp.
His other hand would dip under my waistband, straight down the front of my panties, stroking me. I traced the tip of the vibrator up and down against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, teasing myself until I had goosebumps, imagining it was Ford’s fingers.
Then he’d slip his fingers inside my underwear, discovering my wet, swollen lips.
“You bad girl,” he’d say. “You’re already wet for me.”
I pushed my underwear down and drew the vibrator slowly up my opening, letting it just barely rest against my clit, pretending it was Ford’s thumb. Shivering, I slipped a finger inside my pussy, then two, my hips undulating as I imagined I was grinding against Ford’s fingers.
In my bed, I let out a moan, stopping to adjust my position so I was facedown with the vibrator inside me. As I rode the gently pulsing silicone, I imagined us against the wall again, Ford still kissing me as my hands went for the zipper of his jeans. I could be bold in my fantasy, tugging his briefs down and taking his length in my hand. Giving it a squeeze.
Then I’d drop to my knees in front of him, wrapping my mouth around him and sucking softly, just enough to drive him crazy, then harder, until I tasted that first salty drop of precum.
“I have to fuck you,” he’d say, desperate. “I need you. Please.” And I’d nod.
As I squeezed my legs tighter around my vibrator, I imagined standing up, turning around, and spreading my legs. Ford would come up behind me to tear my underwear off and slip his thick cock inside, sheathing himself in me, filling me all the way up.
“How does this big cock feel inside that tight little pussy?” he’d ask.
“So good,” I whispered, clicking the vibrator speed up another notch. “Fuck yes, Ford.”
I bit my lip and closed my eyes, daydreaming about getting fucked, now with my palms pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows at the club, my breath fogging the glass as Ford’s grip tightened on my hips, his groans echoing in my ear as we found our rhythm. Me, thrusting my ass back, him, pumping into me harder. Faster. Deeper. I turned my toy up to max speed.
Facedown in my bed, I felt the waves of pleasure building up inside me, my orgasm rushing closer. I was right at the edge, my clit hot and swollen, my moans pitching higher.Yes. Spreading my legs as wide as I could, I let myself go, gasping Ford’s name as I came in a hard rush, my whole body shuddering against the sheets, my vibrator wringing every last burst of pleasure from my body even as the battery finally gave out.
Spent and panting, I rolled over, staring up at the ceiling.
I was playing a very dangerous game indeed.
Emzee
Chapter 6
Confession: I have a teeny tiny tendency to overthink things. And not just some things.
