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I don’t even make sense.
That’s what happens when all the blood in your body rushes to your cock.
Brainy no worky.
Now, Jamie opens the bathroom door,naked, and glares at me as ifI’min the wrong.Torturous wench.She opens her drawer with a fury that would usually frighten me… if I could actually think straight. I swear, she’s moving the way she is on purpose. She bends over,calculated, giving me the perfect view of her ass, her pussy.
What I wouldn’t give to just nom, nom, nom.
Bite it.
Lick it.
Suck it.
I groan.
After sliding on her underwear, she turns to face me, her tits right fucking there. And just when I think I can’t take anymore, she skims her hands up her stomach, grabs her tits as if weighing them in her hands.
“Jesus Christ,” I murmur, barely a whisper.
My dick throbs, pre-cum leaking into my boxers.
Fucking awesome.
Here’s the thing: It’s not as if I don’t want Jamie in every way possible, because who the fuck wouldn’t? I just… I need to be able to separate the two attractions, physical and emotional, so we don’t have a repeat of before. When she was here last, the only way I could express my need for her was physical. Now, things are different. And I want her to know that.
My phone dings with a text, and I jump at the chance to check it, just so I have something else to focus on that isn’t a naked Jamie.
“Unbelievable,” Jamie murmurs, and when I look up at her, she’s already in one of my old t-shirts.
I focus on the text again.
Colton:Are you guys coming or not?
I wonder if it would be appropriate to ask him if pre-cum counts as coming.
“Who is it?” Jamie asks, going through her new books on the nightstand.
“Colton,” I respond.
She takes that creepy Brothers Grimm book from the pile. “Are you guys good?”
“Yeah. We’re guys. We don’t fight like girls,” I answer, watching her carry the book to the couch. “Besides, I can’t blame him for wanting to get in your pants.”
Jamie scoffs. “But you can punch him for it?”
I shrug. “Makes all the sense in the world to me.” I watch, confused, as Jamie lies down on the couch, her bare legs propped up on the arm. She cracks open the book, and I ask, “I thoughtIwas reading you a bedtime story.”
She returns my shrug with one of her own. “What does Colton want?”
I put the book I’d been waiting to read on the side table. “He’s having a party at his field tonight.”
Glancing at me, she asks, “And you don’t want to go?”
“Youdo?”
She goes back topretendingto read. “We can.”
