My rules aren’t extreme. There were four.
1. No shoes in the house. Always leave them at the door.
2. No eating crumbly things on the couch. Only at the kitchen island.
3. No using the main bathroom after 8pm or before 8am. If she needs to shower, she has to do it between those hours so I have my space and can get my rest, mental and physical.
4. No speaking, TV, music, or anything else on game days. My routine is a media-less day. And no one and nothing will interrupt that.
4.5 No interrupting or commenting on my game day schedules and rituals.
The problem is, one of those pre-game day rituals is sex. Unlike most of my teammates, I play better if I have sex the night before a game or the day of. I can substitute that with jerking off, but I'm worried that won't be enough eventually. For now, it's my only solution. I turn on the steam and the shower, strip off my stupid pajamas, and step in. I sit on the bench at one end and lean my head back against the tile. As the water pelts me and the steam swirls around me, I slide my hand up my bare thigh and rub my cock. I search my mind for something hot to think about.
Tenley bending over in that crop top pops into my brain. Her round, full ass. Her smooth bare stomach. The way her perky tits bobbed in that flimsy pink lace. As soon as the full thought fills my brain I pull my hand off my dick. Because it got rock hard really fast. Too fast.
It shocks me immediately and completely. I stare down at my dick. The asshole stands tall and stares back at me without a care in the world. “No. Not that,” I scold it in an angry whisper. “Anything but that.”
I close my eyes and concentrate on the warm water peppering me as I search through the mental spank bank for a memory or fantasy that has nothing to do with Tenley. I land on Gabby. The last time we were together she invited me over to her place for Netflix and Chill and halfway through Dune she was on all fours on the sofa and I was sliding in and out of her. I remember her tits bouncing, my balls slapping her ass, my name and expletives flying from her lips, which were swollen because the whole thing started with an excellent blow job…
God, what I wouldn't do to see Tenley's smirking lips red and swollen from being wrapped around my cock.
Wait. What? No!
My hand drops my dick and my eyes fly open. Why does my brain keep doing that? I’m losing it. I slap my forehead with the palm of my hand, trying to knock out any and all thoughts of Tenley. I will not jerk off to thoughts of her. Even if she is gorgeous. Even if her tits look like the kind that would feel perfect in my hands and in my mouth. Even if…
I blink. It’s not nearly as steamy in here as it should be. Did I forget to close the?—
The alarm is instantaneous and deafening. A rhythmic, shrill WAH-WAH that sounds kind of like a British police siren. I swing the shower door open and slip and slide across the tile floor, desperate to reach the bedroom and the control panel on the wall by my bed. The fire alarm is hard-wired and included with the alarm system I pay for. Any second a person is going to come over the control panel and ask me for a password. If I don't give it, along with an explanation as to why the alarm is going off, they call the police, fire, and paramedics and trip the alarm for the whole fucking building. At one in the morning.
I reach for the towel on the rack just as I make it to the door, but my feet slip again and I go down in a heap, face-first, half my body in the bedroom and half in the bathroom. Towel in my hand, not wrapped around my waist. So when Tenley comes racing up the stairs, she gets a full view of my very wet, very bare ass. She stops dead for half a second and drops to her knees by my shoulder. “Oh my God. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“No,” I snap far too harshly because she seems genuinely concerned.
“This is Mandy with Home Defense. Is anyone there?”
“Open the windows!” I bark at Tenley and she jumps to her feet, pulling open the two windows in the bedroom that face the side of the building.
“Hello?” Mandy says. “I have no heat detected but do I need to send help? Hello?”
“Yeah. Hey Mandy. This is Nash Westwood,” I say, still lying face down on the floor with my neck craned toward the panel Mandy is speaking from. I haven’t had a second to figure out how to get up without Tenley seeing my junk. “Everything is fine. The stupid steam shower set off the alarm again.”
“Again?” Tenley questions and I shush her so she gives me two middle fingers before dropping her hands to her hips defiantly.
I finally notice her choice of pajamas. Hot pink lace panties that would have matched that bra she had on earlier and a ribbed white tank top. It’s not the thickest fabric and I can make out the shape of her nipples. Also a very faint outline of a pale blonde landing strip… I think… under those undies.
“Nash!” Tenley hisses and when my eyes finally bother to remember she has a face she’s glaring at me and pointing at the panel. “Password!”
“Sir?” Mandy asks again. “Your password.”
“I can’t say that in front of a stranger,” I mutter.
“Are you insane? You’re going to wake up the whole damn building if you haven’t already!” Tenley says. “And it’s something I should know anyway, if it’s so sensitive steam sets it off.”
I guess she’s got a point here. I sigh. “Mandy the password is Stanley.”
Tenley makes a face.
“Thank you Mr. Westwood,” Mandy says and the room is suddenly, blissfully, quiet again. “This is the fourth false alarm due to steam that we’ve gotten from you in the last twelve months. Perhaps schedule an appointment to move the sensors in that room.
