Fuck it. It’s just a fantasy.
I pump myself faster, pretending it’s her hand wrapped around my hard dick.
It’s embarrassing how quickly I go from excited to completely over the edge, but thinking of her has me shooting ropes of cum within minutes.
Shame hits me the second the orgasm is over.
I bow my head.
I don’t get involved. Relationships are way too complicated, and Ivy seems… well, kind of like a stalker who’d push for a relationship. And chain me to the bed. Break my feet with a sledgehammer if I tried to escape.
You know the type. The Kathy Bates from “Misery” woman.
And that’s the last thing I need in my life.
It’s just a fantasy, I reassure myself.That’s all.
She’s pretty. You’re lonely and horny.
Satisfied, I finish showering.
I dress, grab my list, and head to the grocery store with one goal: efficiency. In. Out. No distractions.
Things are going according to plan, until I reach the produce aisle and stop short when I see her.
Ivy’s standing in front of the bell peppers, holding one red and one yellow, her head tilted as she weighs them like they’re philosophical questions.
I should leave.
I should absolutely leave.
On the double.
Instead, I drift to the broccoli beside her like a moth with a death wish.
When she looks over, I feign surprise with the enthusiasm of a cardboard box.
“Oh,” I say. “Hey.”
Her face lights up. “Hey, stranger.”
My chest does something annoying.
“Bell peppers,” she says, lifting them. “Thoughts?”
“They’re… peppers,” I reply.
She laughs. “Insightful.”
I grab broccoli I don’t even need. “They both look fine.”
“Excellent,” she declares. “You’ve solved it.”
We make small talk about the weather. The trail. How Hollow Creek is deceptively quiet. I nod at appropriate intervals, acutely aware that I am voluntarily participating in conversation. With her.
When I finally walk away, my inner voice immediately starts yelling.
What the hell did you just do that for?
