She put the water bottle down and closed the rest of the gap between us. Her arms stretched up and I imagined the towel dropping, which meant any blood left in my brain headed south.
The towel didn’t drop, but her arms went around my neck and she hugged me, her body pressing against mine. My hands went around her lower back, with my hands managing not to land on her ass. “Thank you,” she breathed into me. “Today’s been amazing.” There was no way she wouldn’t have noticed my erection.
“I’ve had a great time too. Go get your nap.” I loosened my hold, not sure I could have her that closely and not touch her elsewhere.
“Sure.” She gave me another beaming smile, picked up her water and I watched her arse as she went to my spare bedroom, biting my lips in pain as my jeans were doing a good impression of strangled my cock.
I hit the shower, stripping off my clothes and getting straight under the hard stream of water. The icy cold turned hot soon enough and I faced the tiles, placing my palms on them and let the water hit me. She was becoming my fantasy, this little lawyer who was full of sass and sensitivity and tried not to stop. With her curves and her deep blue eyes, I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in her. The towel that had been covering her hadn’t hidden much—nothing that my imagination couldn’t fill in—and as I thought about what was underneath (tits that were just a bit more than a handful, a flat soft belly and how tight her pussy would be and how I could make her come, make her tighter) my dick became excruciatingly hard. Leaving one palm against the tiles, I used the other to grasp my cock and started to stroke, the hot water providing the lube. I imagined my hand was hers and thought about how she’d grip me, gently or firmly; how fast she’d stroke, how she might taste the head with her tongue. I imagined her mouth on me, stretching round my girth, taking me towards my throat and I imagined my mouth on her tits, tasting her pussy and then being inside her. My hard quickened as I thought about fucking her, watching her eyes as I made her come all over my cock and then pulling out, my semen coating her tits and owning them.
My orgasm was hard and fast taking over my body and leaving me breathing heavily. I rested both palms back on the tiles and looked down, my heart beating fasting than a hummingbird’s wings. I washed off, decided not to shave and tried to focus on my mother’s date rather than the woman in the bedroom next to mine. I didn’t know what the world record for the most boners in one day was, but I was pretty sure I could give it a good shot if my obsession with Payton got any stronger.
Emails had been hitting my inbox all day. Most I could answer tomorrow as they weren’t urgent, but there was one from my dad, inviting me to join him in buying a gallery that was struggling. He’d included a business plan and although he didn’t need help with the financial side, he thought it was a venture that would appeal to me as there was enough space in the building to accommodate live music and a pop-up bar. I was interested. Cases could almost run itself and having a new business to work on was something I was keen for at the moment. I made arrangements to meet him in the morning for breakfast and started to feel more in control.
Payton was sleeping when I opened the door to the spare bedroom. She was on her side, facing the window, just a sheet over her, seemingly naked underneath. I stepped closer, seeing her hands next to her face on the pillow, her expression peaceful. I looked up to the ceiling and prayed to the god of self-control to stop me getting in bed with her.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” I said, feeling like a shit for waking her.
She moaned and shifted onto her back, the sheet pulling tightly across her chest, the dark of her nipples visible through the thin sheets.
Tomorrow I’d buy new bedding with a higher thread count in order to stop this torture.
I stepped back towards the door, not wanting her to open her eyes and see me staring at her tits. “Payton, it’s time to wake up.”
She stirred again, turning onto her side to face me and this time the sheet slipped slightly, more of her breast exposed. I looked up to the ceiling again,you’re not fucking helping here, I thought to whichever god of self-control should’ve been on duty.
“Payts!” My voice was louder and shorter, probably out of frustration.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Hey,” she said, unware of how she looked, of where the sheet was. “Is it time to get up?”
I nodded. “We’ve about forty minutes until we need to head out. Do you want me to make you a drink? Tea? Coffee?”And how would you feel about an orgasm and some hot sex to go with that?
“Tea would be great,” she said, rearranging the sheet so she could sit up. Her back was exposed and I knew I needed to get out of the room fast. “This bed is really comfortable. Much better than mine. I might have to move into your spare room.”
Please do. But not the spare. Mine.
“You should try my bed some time.” And I knew exactly what I was saying.
“With you in it?” she said, laughing so that her tits moved, the friction from the sheet making her nipples stand out. I didn’t try to keep my eyes off them as I figured she knew full well how she looked. If she didn’t want me looking, she would’ve pulled the blankets over her too.
“Anytime. I’ll go make you a mug of tea.” I backed out before we could have the no-dating-just-friends conversation again and decided that tonight I had to find out why she was so against dating at the moment.
She appeared fifteen minutes later, her hair dry and the small dressing gown tied round her, legs bare. “Thank you,” she said, taking the tea. “I’m always thanking you.”
“You don’t need to. I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. I’m not doing anything for your thanks,” I said. It was true. I’d grown up helping people, because that was what my mother did, but she did it because she wanted to, not because of what she’d gain from it or to have someone’s gratitude.
“I’ll stop saying it then. A dress is okay for tonight, isn’t it? I brought a couple of things if it’s not.” She sipped the tea.
I’d never understood the whole girl and clothes thing, so I wasn’t entirely sure of what to say. “I don’t know what’s fashionable for a crashing your friend’s mother’s date-scenario, to be honest.”
Payton rolled her eyes. “Will there be other girls in there wearing dresses on a Thursday night or will everyone have jeans on?” she said, her tone impatient.
“It’s Covent Garden. There will probably be someone wearing a ball gown and someone else in a whole punk get up.” I said, looking down at my trousers and blue shirt. I felt her eyes on my chest and caught her eye, grinning and enjoying the victory. “I assume I look all right?”
“You know what assume did?” she said, referring to the old joke, then turned around and looked at me from over her shoulder. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”
* * *
That was all it took her. She appeared in a tight blue dress and skin coloured heels. The dress left her legs pretty much exposed and her arms were also bare. She looked at me, clearly weighing something up. “Can I borrow a jacket? I haven’t brought one and it’s not the warmest night.”
