AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Easy to imagine I can reach forward and sink my hands into her hips, feel her juicy fullness, the curves which are making my balls pulse right this second.
I’d drive my manhood against her belly.
Feel how hard you make me. Feel how badly I want you.
Then I’d tear her shirt off and slip my precome-slick manhood between her breasts.
We’re at a funeral, and these thoughts won’t stop swirling around my mind. There’s something wrong with me.
“Got to make a living,” I say lamely, and then spot Adam over Harper’s shoulder.
He reminds me of when we were kids, that tight set to his lips. As he puts it, he’snormal-person height… and I’mscary-personheight. We used to laugh like crazy about that.
His eyes are red, his hand moving through his brown hair as we stare at each other.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I tell Harper, and then leave without waiting for a response.
“You good?” Adam asks me, his voice tight.
“Yeah.”
“You forgot my beer.”
He’s right. That was my whole reason for going there, but then Harper distracted me just by being herself.
“I’ll get it.”
“It’s fine,” he cuts in. “I’ve got it.”
The rest of the wake is torture. I do everything I can to not look at Harper.
She sits with her legs crossed, highlighting her thighs clad in black tights, their shape beckoning to me, making me imagine my hands sinking into her voluptuousness.
There’s somuchof her to indulge in. I want to kiss, softly bite, and please her as she whimpers and begs for more, and not just more carnal attention. More closeness, more dates, more protection, more kisses, more affection.
More talking about a future that can never happen, the pitter-patter of footsteps and children’s laughter, and all the stuff I never knew I wanted, butneedwith her.
The wake is winding down.
I think maybe I’ve gotten away with it and somehow survived the closeness to Harper without caving into the desire to pick her up and carry her out over my shoulder.
Then Adam approaches me.
His eyes are still red, but they have a hard quality. It’s the way he looked when we were in our late teens. He’d already started his construction company with a small nest egg from his dad—an egg he’d build into a whole “hatch house” as the years wore on.
I was working for him when he dislocated his finger. He stared at me, then at his sideways finger.
“Bro, we need to get you to a ho…”
I was about to say hospital, but then he calmly grabbed it and bent it back into shape.
“I’m not missing this deadline. We’ve only got until the end of the day. Let’s get to work.”
He steps forward, looking up at me. “Mom and Dad have had a little too much to drink, and Harper’s still taking lessons for her license. Could you give them a ride? Of course, I would, but I promised Eva’s parents I’d stay with them.”
He’s staring firmly, toughly.
“You can count on me,” I tell him.
