And now she’s going to leave.
After her shower, Penny storms into the room and throws herself onto the bed like a petulant child. I freshen up for dinner, trying to figure out what to say to her.
Is it selfish to confess my feelings toward her?
Definitely.
The only decent thing to do is offer her a severance.
When I exit the bathroom, I find her curled under the covers. At first, I think she’s asleep. But then I see her body trembling.
She’s crying.
I can’t think of a time I’ve ever felt such strong self-loathing before. I have to make this right. But how?
“You okay, Penny?” I whisper.
She shakes her head.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Hold me,” she blurts.
I climb under the covers and spoon her, praying I don’t pop a boner.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not.” She sniffles.
“And why is that?”
“Just…because. I didn’t ask you to talk to me. I asked you to hold me.”
I hold her tightly so she feels safe, hoping to somehow make things better for her.
She presses back, takes my hand, and pulls it under her shirt to her breasts.
Which is…confusing.
She pushes her ass against my now-hardened cock, making me hiss out a breath.
And because there is no denying that it’s her who’s initiating, I grab her cotton sports bra and pull it up over her tits.
She yelps a cute sound, which makes me leak pre-cum into my boxers. As I rut against her, I knead her breasts, loving how reactive she is to my touch.
Her tits feel bigger in my hand than they had before, probably because of the position we’re in. Or maybe it’s just winter weight gain.
“Grey?”
“Yes, Penny?”
“I’m horny.”
“Clearly.”
“Will you take me?”
As if I could deny her.
