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Donovan: I do love playing with myself. But I might swing by around four.
Yeah, I was definitely going to get Molly back today. She had no idea what was in store for her.
22
Molly
The Day He Made Me Squirm
I had never sent a sexy text message before. Even though you couldn’t see anything in the photo, it felt soscandalousto do. Like someone out in cyberspace might intercept it and see my panties.
And Donovan responded exactly as I hoped he would.
I’ll be honest: I didn’t think the penis was an attractive body part. It was actually kind of ugly. But the photo Donovan sent me, showing the thick ridge of his cock outlined within the grey cotton of his boxer-briefs…
It stirred something inside of me that I didn’t know could be stirred.
I was tempted to dial things up a notch right there. To remove my panties, spread my legs a little bit, and take arealphoto for him. But I chickened out, and instead invited him to play pool.
Donovan joined me in the lounge at four. He looked like he had showered and cleaned himself up—he was wearing a blue button-down over his jeans.
Someone decided to get fancy.
“Ready to play with some balls?” he asked jokingly.
“You look like you’re ready to go to a board room meeting.”
“I’m running out of shirts. I need to do laundry.” He rolled up his sleeves, revealing his tan forearms. “What drink should I make us?”
I went behind the bar and grabbed the two highball glasses I had prepared. “Drinks are on me this time. I’m no bartender, but I can make a Jack and Coke.”
His lip twitched in a half-smile. “Jack and Coke is my favorite.”
Nailed it, I thought happily as he took a sip.
“This is strong,” he said.
“I like it strong.”
“No complaints here,” he replied. “You break this time. Need a refresher on how to play?”
Need me to grind up against your ass again?was what he meant. I bent over the table and lined up the cue ball. “I think I remember.”
I pulled back the stick and hit the cue ball, which slammed into the triangle of balls and spread them around the table.
“Uh oh. You’ve been practicing,” Donovan said while taking a very long pull of his drink.
“I had time to kill while you were playing in your kitchen yesterday.” I checked a pocket. “I’m solids. You’re stripes.”
I examined the table and lined up another shot. My target was right next to the side pocket, so I was able to sink it easily.
“Nice stroke,” Donovan said. “Just like last night.”
I rounded the table and bent over in front of him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“The hand-job.”
I paused to look back at him. “Hand-job? What hand-job?”
