Page 8 of Stalked By the Hockey Player

I lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, imagining her body pressed against mine once again. It drives me crazy. My heart races and my cock twitches with desire. So, I do something reckless. Something I know I shouldn't do. But I can't help myself.

I start to creep into Emila's bedroom at night, unlocking her window and slipping inside when I know she's asleep. I don't want to wake her. I just want to feel her warmth, breathe in her scent—the vanilla shampoo mixed with sweat and passion. I lie down next to her, spooning her, my hard cock digging into herass. I run my hands over her soft skin, tracing delicate patterns on her stomach and thighs. I kiss her neck, her ear, her jawline. My nose nuzzles into her hair.

I want her again, and again, andagain.

Forever.

After our first time, she fell asleep in my arms. I should have left then. But I couldn't. I just lay there, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath, her red hair spilling across the pillow.

And I've not been able to cut the cord since then. Every night I'm with her—though she doesn't know it.

When it's dark, I sneak back into her room. She's curled up under the covers, her bare shoulders peeking out. I sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face.

She doesn't wake. I know she won't. She's a hard sleeper, which is perfect since I can't control myself around her.

I palm my aching erection before I groan softly and pull it from my pants.

This has become my nighttime ritual. I masturbate to her sleeping form, my fantasies running away with me as I stare at her puffy pink lips, partly slightly in sleep.

My breathing becomes ragged as I increase the tempo of my strokes.

She lets out a little whimper in her sleep, and that's what does it.

I nut so hard I see fucking stars.

I struggle to catch it all. A few drops hit her blanket, and I can't deny the satisfaction it brings me knowing that she'll be sleeping under my cum.

I put my cock up and stare at her for a while longer, but before long, my hand moves to the front of my sweatpants again, arousal warring with self-loathing. I'm hard again just looking at her, and I hate myself for it. I should leave now before I dosomething else I'll regret, but I can't tear my eyes away from the curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts under her tank top.

With a groan I shove my hand into my pants, gripping my cock. I'm already slick with precum, and I stroke myself roughly, biting my lip. I stare at Emila. At the softness of her skin and the sounds she made when she came apart for me.

I'm panting now, fist flying over my length. I'm going to hell for this, but I can't stop. I'm so close already, pressure building at the base of my spine.

And then Emila stirs, rolling onto her back. Her eyes blink open and meet mine, and I freeze in place, exposed and ashamed.

Emila

I wake up to the sound of Tyler's voice, his breath hot against my ear. "Emila," he whispers, his hand sliding down my stomach and between my legs. I gasp, feeling a jolt of desire shoot through me despite myself. "Please," he says again, his voice low and urgent. "I need you, baby."

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But then he starts kissing me, his lips soft and insistent against mine, and I give in. I let him lead me, let him coax me into exploring my body in ways I've never imagined.

We're both naked now, our bodies pressed together in the darkness. He touches me gently at first, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin that make me shiver with pleasure. But then he gets more forceful, more insistent, and I find myself losing control.

"Tyler," I moan, my hands gripping his shoulders as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. And then I'm there, coming harder than I ever have before, my body convulsing with pleasure.

Afterwards, we lay there in silence for a while, both of us catching our breath. I can feel him staring at me, his eyes dark and intense. I know that things between us will never be the same again.

"Emila," he says finally, his voice hoarse. "I want you so much it hurts."

I don't know what to say. I want him too, but he just snuck into my room. But another part of me is scared, unsure of where this is all leading.

"Tyler, I..." I start, but then I stop. I don't know what to say. I don't know where we go from here.

We lay there in silence for a while longer, both of us lost in our own thoughts. And then finally, I speak.

"You shouldn't have come here like this. You could have woke up my mom."

"I know," he sighs, "but I can't stay away from you. Move in with me, Emila." His voice turns excited, deseprate even, at his suggestion.

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