Page 14 of Pride

FIVE

Anna

Fisher Knox was different. Soft spoken and satisfied with life’s simplest offerings, he was an anomaly. From the time he woke up until the moment he went to sleep, he was the polar opposite of my former boyfriend, Josh.

He spoke very little. When he did, it was typically confirming something I’d said or had asked. That is correct was a phrase I’d become accustomed to hearing. I wondered if his simplistic manner of being was a result of the time he’d spent in prison, and further wondered if he’d become more outspoken as time passed.

My full bladder awoke me from a sound night’s sleep. I glanced around the hotel room, surprised that the sun was already up. Beside me, Fisher was motionless, still deep in sleep. As much as I needed to relieve myself, I didn’t want to move for fear of waking him.

For as long as I was able, I remained motionless, admiring his muscular physique and handsome looks. I wondered what experiences he had during the war, and how they might have changed him.

Regardless, I liked the man who was with me.

My pounding bladder eventually forced me to get up. With reluctance, I lifted my head form the pillow, hoping to slide from the bed unnoticed. Curiosity caused me to peer beneath the blankets, hoping to catch a glimpse of just what Fisher Knox had stuffed inside his cut-off sweat shorts.

A glimpse of his left arm and the waist band of his shorts were all that was visible. I lifted the blankets a little higher. Then, a little more. And then…

Holy shit.

I pulled the blanket against my chest. With my heart thrashing against my ribs and my mind wallowing in the sexual gutter, I stared at the ceiling, feigning innocence.

Based on his confidence and his Marine Corps swagger, I was convinced that he was well-endowed. The massive bulge in his shorts confirmed my suspicions. He was hung like a horse. After taking a moment to collect my thoughts, I faked a yawn, lifting the blankets as I stretched.

I stole another glance of his magnificent cock, and then slid off the side of the bed without so much as a shred of grace. When I landed to the floor, he stirred.

“Sorry,” I said as I rose to my feet. “I had to pee.”

He sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and looked at me. “I needed to get up anyway.” He looked around the room. “It’s late.”

I walked backward toward the bathroom, keeping my eyes fixed on him in the process. “Late for you, maybe. It was nice to sleep in.”

He lifted a handful of his hair and looked at it. “Are you any good at cutting hair?”

I paused at the bathroom door. “What do you mean?”

“Can you cut my hair? You know, make it look good? Girls can do that kind of stuff, right?”

“Girls can’t, no. But, I can. You’re lucky. I learned to cut hair when I was young, I had to.”

The thought of cutting his hair was exciting. I liked it long, but it needed something.

“Let me pee,” I said, trying to mask my excitement. “Then, I’d love to.”

He stared at the ends of hair that sprouted from his fist. “Go pee.”

As mysteriously as my menstrual cycle had arrived, it had also vanished, leaving me horny as hell in its wake. Initially, I found the thought of cutting Fisher’s hair intimate. In the time it took me to pee, that intimate thought became sexual.

Fisher Knox had a cock like a porn star, and I wanted it. I imagined riding it cowgirl style, sinking my fingers into the flesh of his broad chest while I bucked my hips wildly against the girth of his massive shaft.

I came out of the bathroom horny, embarrassed, and feeling guilty for stealing a glimpse of his manhood. My level of sexual frustration multiplied the instant I opened the door.

Fisher stood directly in front of me with a shallow smile on his face. His hands were filled with clothes and toiletries, and hung directly in front of his waist, obscuring any more views of his massive bulge.

“Uhhm. Excuse me,” I stammered, raising my gaze from his waist to his eyes.

“I’m going to hop in the shower.”

“It’d be best to cut your hair wet, anyway,” I said as I brushed past him. “We can cut it after you get done. How short are you thinking?”