Something about her feeling relaxed enough in my arms to pee in front of me both reassures me and makes me hard.
Or maybe she’s not relaxed at all. Maybe she just really,reallyneeded to pee.
Whatever the case is, I’m eyeing the tree thoughtfully, wondering how exactly to broach the subject.
She follows my gaze and blushes as though she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
But instead of alluding to it, she merely says, “Quill.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m finished… uhm, peeing. Can you let me get up?”
I stare down and realize I’ve been holding her quite firmly in a squatting position.
“No.”
“No?” she echoes. “Come on, Quill. Let me up. I’m not comfortable like this.”
I shift slightly so she’s sitting on my thigh instead of squatting over nothing, still keeping a firm grip on her.
“If I let you stand up, you’ll go right back to putting distance between us,” I say. “You’ll do your very best to annoy me, and I don’t want that. I don’t want to get angry at you.”
“Okay.” It’s her turn to say the word, as she licks her lips. “So what do you suggest?”
I look down at her, my cock hardening as I feel her nakedbottom against my thigh. She tries to hide her pussy from me with her hands, and without thinking, I pry them away, trapping her wrists in one hand.
Somehow, she seems to like it when I’m being a bit forceful. She’s not protesting anymore. She merely waits, breathing hard, as I stare down at her nakedness. Then I feel a wet spot form on my thigh.
And it’s not just from the pee.
Well, maybe a little of it is.
Nevertheless, she doesn’t seem all that surprised when I say, “I want to fuck you.”
She merely waits some more, licking her lips again.
“Well?” I prompt.
“Well what?”
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
Against all expectations, she actually looks annoyed, her lips flattening as she struggles to get her hands out of my grasp.
I start to wrack my brain, trying to figure out what I should be saying, because clearly this wasn’t the right thing. She didn’t seem upset when I told her what I wanted to do to her, only when I asked her permission.
Was I not supposed to ask?
But that’s all wrong. Forcing her to stay with me is one thing. But the last thing I want to do is force her inthisway, especially after everything I’m only now realizing she’s been through.
I stare at her in utter confusion, as the silence around us begins to feel stifling.
“I wish you hadn’t asked,” she says at last. “I wish you hadn’t asked because…”
I’m even more confused as I wait for her to finish her thought.
She swallows with difficulty. “Because it would make me feel pathetic to say yes.”
