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My cock stiffens as the image flashes through my head: Maren naked, dark hair trailing over her shoulders and backas she soaps up her body. Tits wet, slippery, nipples puffy and soft.
“Tuck.”
For a second I think I imagined it—her saying my name. A pleading edge to her voice, like she’s in trouble. Or about to come.
But then she says it again. “Tuck. God. Yes.Yes.”
My heart stumbles to a full stop. The heaviness inside my skin roars to renewed life.
I’m who she’s thinking about while she gets off. Me.
I stay rooted to the spot in Maren’s kitchen. But mind moves through the bedroom and into the bathroom. The shower is encased in glass walls, and in my fantasy, I can see everything. Maren is facing away from me, that ass as juicy as I’d imagined.
She is holding the shower head between her legs.
My dick goes full salute.
“You’re so good at this,” she says. “Tuck, you are so damngoodat this.”
I. Just.
No words.
Is this really happening?
If there was any question that the attraction I feel for her is one sided?—
“Fuck, you’re going to make me come so hard,” she cries out.
I imagine Maren’s head falling back. She’s biting her lip. One hand moves to her breast. She plays with her nipple, kneading it between her fingers before giving it a hard pull.
Her hips buck against the shower head. I hear her hiss, and I picture the hand on her breast landing on the wall. Her leg shakes.
I’m shaking.
Listening to her like this is wrong.
So fucking wrong. Illegal. Immoral. I should go. I have to go.
But the only thing that moves is my hand. I put it on my erection, pressing it against my shorts.
“Tuck,” she whimpers. “I’m coming.”
I stroke myself through my shorts.Be a good girl and come on my dick.
She cries out, and in my mind’s eye I can see her collapsing against the shower wall as she rides out her orgasm. The muscles in her legs bunch and release. She claws at the wall, searching for something, anything to hold on to.
My heart cracks. Someone should be in that shower with her. Holding her up. Making her come so hard and so often she doesn’t have to play pretend to get off.
Maren lets out a noisy sigh. I feel a stab of panic. Time to go before she sees me. Before I do something stupid like pull off these shorts and join her in there.
Mustering every ounce of self-control, I turn around and leave. Drop her phone on the counter, praying like hell she doesn’t remember leaving it at the house.
I consider tugging one out when I’m back home. I need to do something; I feel myself leaking. But even if I watch some porn, I’m only going to be able to think about Maren.
I’m going to come thinking about her. And that’s a precedent I absolutely cannot set.
Cold shower it is. The water feels like knives on my skin. It takes a minute, but the needy throb coiled tightly inside my body eventually dissipates.
