It’s never a good idea to initiate anything romantic or sexual with a colleague. Especially the one who loathes me. The one who gets under my skin like no other woman ever has. Definitely not the one who makes me lose all my inhibitions.
And I went ahead and did exactly that.
I can blame it on the high of winning the game against one of our top rivals. Or on thealcohol in my system. Maybe even say that it was a mistake. But I really have no one or anything else to blame for it but me.
I want to say that the kiss wasn’t anything special. That it barely registered. That it was like the kisses I’ve shared with countless other women, a blip in time. But that, too, would be a lie.
I know the kiss with Kaeli altered my brain chemistry, and I was never even a science student. I should’ve known nothing with this woman is simple or forgettable. I should’ve known that one kiss would be all it would take her to disarm me, destroy me, ruin me. I should’ve known that one kiss with her was all it would take for me to get hooked on her.
I’ve jerked myself off to the memory of that one kiss, two lips, and numerous moans of pleasure innumerable times. She’d surely decimate me if she found out. And what scares me is that I’d happilylether.
So, this morning, when I’m in the shower, replaying that kiss for the umpteenth time, I see my cock hardening like granite, aching for relief. My restraint lasts for all of two seconds before I resign myself to the perverse need to makemyself come.
The muscles in my stomach tighten as my hand engulfs my engorged and bobbing cock. I hiss at the touch, imagining that it’s her pouty lips wrapping around my girth instead.
The first stroke I give myself is composed, slow, as I try not to come under a second. Squeezing my eyes shut as the water descends from my hair to my toes and into the drain, I picture Kaeli on her knees for me, desperate and waiting.
She teases me with the swirl of her wet tongue over the tip of my dick. Then she wraps her hand around me and sucks the tip as her fingers glide over the underside of my cock.
Instead of taking me in her mouth, she drops wet kisses all over my length, teasing me, as a shiver of desperation and eagerness crawls the length of my spine. My hand grips her hair tightly, demanding her to open her mouth. And when she dutifully swallows my cock in her hot mouth, my head falls back on a groan as I mutter, “Good girl.”
She preens under my praise, squirming and seeking friction and pleasure we both know only I can give her.
With a taut hold on her head, I thrust inside her mouth as she keeps her jaw loose to take me deep in her throat. Her head bobs on my dick as her eyes water and her mouth glistens with saliva and my precum.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” I grunt.
She continues to swirl her tongue around me as she chokes on my dick. She raises her hand to fondle my balls, and my body trembles with the intense pleasure, my hips bucking into her face. The knot in my stomach tightens, threatening to break.
She scrapes her teeth along my length, and that’s my undoing as I come violently with a groan down her throat, and she swallows it all like the good girl she is. I ride the high for long moments as my cum shoots out of my dick, and my hips buck unceremoniously.
My eyes open, and the image of her wanes from my sight. Slapping my hand on the tiled wall of my bathroom, I come to my senses, soaking in the reality of her absence as I pant from the incredible release.
“Fuck.” The curse slips past my lips when I realize that she has me hooked without even knowing.
Or maybe she does know.
* * *
That woman is the bane of my existence. And she does her absolute best to remind me of it time and time again.
It’s been more than a week since we kissed. And since that day, we haven’t uttered a word to each other, not even in passing. She went as far as to make Jodi our point of contact or mediator, if you will.
Absolutely refusing to talk to me, even for work, she has taken to spurning my very existence. No matter how much I stare at her, trying to make her look at me just once, she won’t budge.
When I hear her talking with my other teammates, my blood boils, and I want to punch them in the face for being able to talk to her when I can’t. She isn’t even throwing insulting words at me for Christ’s sake.
I didn’t realize how much bantering had become part of my routine until she withdrew. And it’s not because she didn’t enjoy the kiss. I know she did. Her breathy moans, squirmingthighs, and hot pussy were undeniable evidence.
So, is it because of what that dickface Cillian said? My hands tighten around the stick at the mere thought of him. I wish Kaeli hadn’t stopped me from knocking him out. How dare he talk about her like that?
No matter how cold she seems to others, I’ve never once seen her be disrespectful or hurtful to someone else. She hides her true self well. But not well enough from me.
I see her.
She doesn’t need to verbalize why she is like that at work. I know being a woman in a man-centric sport isn’t easy. Not even in the twenty-first century.
But I wish she would just look at me. I miss her mocha eyes on me. I miss her witty remarks. I miss her glare even. And most of all, I miss her voice.
