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“If what you’re saying is true, I’ll be giving you that word while you’re ononeknee.”
“And I can’t wait to hear it.”
After we eat, he takes me home and walks me to my door. Then, unmindful of the neighbors working in their yard, he leans forward and kisses me.
It’s everything I imagined a first should be and more. His mouth is gentle, giving us each a moment to savor it, the sweetness of it unexpected yet appreciated. And then it becomes aggressive, as if neither of us can get enough. His hands fist in my hair, keeping me still as he devours me, and I let him. Willingly.
When a lawnmower kicks on, pulling us apart reluctantly, he gives me a second one. “I love you, Austin,” I say as he stares at me.
“I love you, Willa. That will never change.”
Chapter Six
Austin
May 15th…
Kissing Willa is killing me. I want to do so much more to her, and she seems to agree, but I refuse to go any further without her knowing the truth. Honestly, I shouldn’t have given her the ring until then either, but I’ll be damned if I could wait. I needed to see it on her, to know she’s willing to pledge her life to mine.
If it wasn’t for the almost constant presence of Torren and Clover or the weekly report to Anders, I could actually be a high school kid in love with his soulmate, ready to share all of our firsts, knowing we’ll also be each other’s lasts. And only.
I want to spend time with her, just the two of us, but it’s probably best that I don’t. For one, we can’t exactly hang out at my place. Kind of hard to explain how a supposed nineteen-year-old, attending a private school on a scholarship, has a house all to himself. Add in that having others around us to unknowingly act as chaperones helps me keep it in my pants when I want nothing more than to sink into her and fully make her mine.
Shit. Cold shower number two coming right up. My arms sure are getting a work out since meeting Willa. My mind, too, as I use visuals of what I want to do to her and her to me, to fuel my desire, stoking it to the point if I don’t get some relief I’ll pass out from lack of oxygen to my brain. Of course, any release I bring myself is unsatisfying. The only thing that will bring me true pleasure is being with her.
Stripping, I pad into the bathroom and step into the stall, not even bothering to turn it on to heat first. The chill hardly touches the heat roaring through me as I picture Willa in my bed, my promise ring on her finger the only thing she’s wearing, her arms raised, urging me to come to her.
In my fantasies, she knows everything about me, including why we crossed paths, and she’s forgiven me. We’re a couple with no secrets between us. I groan as I wrap my hand around my cock, almost hissing at the contact. My rough skin is no match for the softness of hers, but I can imagine the difference having held hers and experienced it. Willa whispers my name, telling me she loves me, then gets on her knees and watches me, eyes wide with passion and excitement as my grip strokes up and down. As my fist reaches the head, the tip peeks out and Willa leans forward, gaze transfixed on the drop appearing. Her tongue slides from her lips, scooping it up and letting it sit there for a second before she closes her mouth and hums as she swallows it.
Fuck me! That’s it. I spill all over her in my mind, covering her breasts with my seed, getting hard all over again when she swipes a finger through it and sucks on it. In reality, my shower wall is now covered, cum dripping from it as it falls into the drain and fades away. Wasted.
Spent, I rest my forehead and want to scream at the fact it was all fake. That she isn’t here. She still doesn’t know I’m not entirely who she thinks I am.
That the woman I love may hate me when she does.
**Willa**
“Ugh!” I shriek, fed up with my inability to get myself off. I have the perfect material, Austin shirtless – a vision I drool over when he exercises while I keep him company, yet I can’t quite get that elusive spot. I know who can, though. Austin’s fingers may not be thick, but they are long, easily able to hit where I can’t.
Feeling guilty, as if by doing it I’m negating Austin’s place in my life, I stretch toward my nightstand, thankful I’d already locked my door, and slide the drawer open enough to get my hand inside. When I touch what I’m seeking, I remove it, biting my lip at the naughtiness of what I’ve been doing. What I’m about to do.
Before meeting Austin, I’d never had a need for this alone time, the craving for release just not something I required. Now, however, I’ve worn out a few batteries. I know I shouldn’t feel bad that I’m doing it, it’s not as if I’m doing anything wrong, but I’d much rather have the real thing as opposed to a plastic piece of equipment that only offers a temporary pleasure. For a minute, maybe two, afterward, I’m limp with satisfaction, but it’s hollow, like even my pussy knows it’s fake.
Having worked myself into quite a tizzy, I don’t need lubrication, my own sufficing as I return to thinking about Austin. The things he does, what he says. The promises he’s made. And the fact that soon I won’t need this toy because he’ll supply me with all the orgasms I could ever want. And more.
At the last second, I imagine Austin staring at me, egging me on as I seek completion. And then he calls me little one and I quickly grab the pillow and shove it over my face to muffle my scream.
I don’t know what it is about that endearment, but it does something to me. Sends shivers down my spine, heat to my center, and sparks to my heart. I enjoy when baby slips from his mouth, too, yet it doesn’t seem to have the same impact.
It’s weird considering we’re the same age, but somehow he feels older. Acts here and there, too. Or perhaps I’ve just found one of the rare teenage males that isn’t an immature horn-dog.
When I’ve calmed enough that I can stand, I wipe off my vibrator, then head for the bathroom to get ready. I throw my pjs in the hamper, having needed to take care of my ache before I even got out of bed, and turn the water on to warm up. Once I’m pleased with the temperature, I take my shower, shaving multiple places, before lathering my loofah and washing every inch of my body.
After rinsing, I twist the knob and step out where I quickly dry off, then proceed to thoroughly put lotion on. Today’s scent, my favorite, is bubble gum. A bit childish I’m sure, but I like it. Austin does, too, as he regularly tells me I should stop using the others and only let this one touch my skin.
And that leads to me thinking abouthimputting it on me, and I’m tempted to get right back in the stall and use the massaging shower head. But I don’t. It’s just a poor substitution for the man – it feels strange referring to him as a boy – I really want.
Maybe tonight we’ll finally take that step. I’ve been hinting, wanting him to know that I’m ready, in case that’s what’s been stopping him from going any further than over the pants touches or under our shirts caresses.
