It isn’t going to settle down anytime soon, so I grip it and give a few good pumps. Normally I don’t ejaculate without thinking of some specific scenario involving Molly, but this time it shoots thick white cum with hardly any effort.
What the…?
It must be from having brushed against her in the library. My penis has never touched Molly, and I’ve been hyper-charged since. And the thought of her being in my house has had me on edge for hours.
I sluice off, then towel myself dry. Molly’s newly single, and in my home. But I’m struggling to come up with a plan to show her what she means to me without scaring her off. My brothers have said I can be overly intense at times— apparently I’m too serious and somber. It’s frustrating because I’ve spent years thinking of what I’d do if I had the chance, and now that I have the perfect opportunity, none of the plans seem acceptable.
Timid knocks come from the connecting door. My whole body perks up like a dog noticing his owner coming home. What does Molly need? Ideally somebody to hold her and make her feel better… Although that would be too good to be true.
I start to shrug into a bathrobe, then stop. I work out regularly to look good. Part of it is for me, but a big part is also for Molly. I always hoped I’d get my chance, and didn’t want her to be disappointed.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror. Thick muscle covers my tall, wide frame, and there’s not an ounce of fat. My abs are ridged—you could lose your change between the sections. I run my fingers through my damp hair, then wrap a towel around my hips and go over to see what Molly needs.
She’s on the other side of the connecting door. At the sight of her, all the blood flows south. She’s showered too. Unlike me, she’s made use of the bathrobe hanging in her suite, and a thick towel is wrapped around her hair. Without any makeup, she looks so huggable and pretty, her cheeks rosy and her lips pink and soft. She smells like my soap—lime and myrrh. But I want her to smell likeme.
She gazes up at me, blinking. Her gaze glides down my torso, moving over my shoulders and chest and arms…then to my abs. I feel her scrutiny like hands running over me.
Time seems to slow down as heat spreads through me. Her eyes drop further, tracing the dusting of hair on my belly that vanishes under the towel. A soft sigh drifts from her. The sound wraps around my cock like a tight fist. Knowing the attraction isn’t just one way boils my blood.
Suddenly, she jerks her eyes back up.
Oh, baby, you could’ve done more than just look. You could’ve asked me to drop the towel and lick you to an orgasm, and I would’ve done it gladly.
Her face is scarlet. “Uh… Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know you were in the shower.”
“No problem. I just got done.” I paste on a friendly smile, like it’s totally natural to answer the door in a towel.
“Would it be okay if I did a quick load of laundry? I, um, don’t have anything else to wear.”
“Sure. This way.” Still in the towel, I show her the second-floor laundry room. I hope she appreciates the years of work I’ve put into my body. “If you need anything else…”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Her cheeks turn rosier. “I think I’m good. Just gonna read a little and go to bed.”
My mind conjures up the image. She probably doesn’t sleep in a bathrobe, so… Does this mean she’s going to read in bed and then go to sleep nude? The book she asked me to grab is pretty explicit. Will it give her ideas? Turn her on? Will I be on her mind?
Molly naked in one of the beds in my house, reading a romance novel, is hotter than any porn scenario. Suddenly, my skin feels overly hot and stretched too thin. Any more tension and something’s going to snap.
“Actually, could I borrow one of your T-shirts? Anything is fine. I just need something to sleep in.”
I almost groan. Her in my T-shirt iseven hotter. Makes her seem mine.
My girl.My Molly.
I try to speak but can’t. I clear my throat to get rid of the weird lump. “Yeah. I have plenty you can take.”You can have all of them. And me, too, while you’re at it.
The first T-shirt I grab from my closet is a simple white one. The cotton’s thin and cool, and it’s one of my favorites. I hand it to her.
She takes it, careful not to touch my fingers. “Thanks. Good night, Nicholas,” she says, then slips into her room.
An hour later, I’m lying in bed staring into the darkness. I should be sleeping, but my body’s wound tight.
I keep picturing Molly in my T-shirt. She isn’t wearing any underwear. Her nipples are most definitely visible through the fabric. Is she still reading? It has some great sex scenes. Is she getting turned on?
My cock grows even harder.Fuck.
But my dick isn’t the only problem. My fingertips tingle, too. I imagine pushing one inside her to see if she’s wet while she’s reading.
Forget that. I’d just lick her.
