Page 45
Story: Play Maker
I shake my head slightly, unwilling to say the truth, that I can’t believe I’m looking at her like this after fantasizing about this moment several times … all in the shower.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“Trying to remember how to breathe,” I say, voice rough.
She smirks. “Good.”
She tosses the towel and crawls onto the bed. Not mine—hers—but I’m hoping she’ll let me stay for a bit.
“Need to give you yours.” I roll to my side.
“I took mine,” she says, pursing her lips, hiding a smile.
I rub my thumb across her lower lip. “That wasn’t taking; that was giving. Very giving.”
She bristles a bit. She likes compliments.
“Anyone ever tell you that you give great head?”
“Nope.” She smiles up at the ceiling, and I chuckle. She looks at me and asks, “So, it was bad?”
The way she asks rubs me the wrong way. “Who the hell put that idea in your head?”
“You laughed. I assumed?—”
This pisses me off even more. “Why would you assume?”
“Oh … em … G, let it go.” She rolls to her side, giving me her back, and I don’t like that, not one bit.
“Just got the life sucked out of me by Lauren fucking Brooks, and she isn’t looking at me. Didn’t expect the first ever to happen. Glad—real glad—it did. Then I lay here, unable to move, because I’m more relaxed than I have been in years, even while listening to the most fucked up playlist I’ve ever heard. Now you’ve got your back to me? Nah, that doesn’t work.”
The song changes to something even more f’ed—“I Will Survive.”
Her body shakes.
“See? Even you can’t deny this playlist makes no sense.”
She still doesn’t move.
“I can’t just leave like last night. Even if I slip out of here, head through Narnia, I’ll be here in the morning.”
She sighs exaggeratedly. “I was embarrassed when you laughed, because that was, uh …” She exhales. “No one ever told me I was bad because …” She stops again, and it hits me.
“You’ve never given head before?” When she doesn’t reply, I flop to my back. “It would be wrong to give you a fist-bump, right?”
She lies on her back and holds out her fist. “I’ll take it.”
I tap her first and keep mine up. “I should get one, too, since it was my dick.”
She laughs quietly, taps it again, then clears her throat. “So, do you need to go see if your phone’s charged?”
“Wasn’t even thinking about my phone. Too busy trying to figure out how I’m already hard again.”
She rolls to her side and props her head up on her elbow, eyes slowly tracking down.
“Thinking we should recreate last night. Keep the orgasm and?—”
“Orgasms—plural.” She holds out her fist, and hell yeah, I tap it.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“Trying to remember how to breathe,” I say, voice rough.
She smirks. “Good.”
She tosses the towel and crawls onto the bed. Not mine—hers—but I’m hoping she’ll let me stay for a bit.
“Need to give you yours.” I roll to my side.
“I took mine,” she says, pursing her lips, hiding a smile.
I rub my thumb across her lower lip. “That wasn’t taking; that was giving. Very giving.”
She bristles a bit. She likes compliments.
“Anyone ever tell you that you give great head?”
“Nope.” She smiles up at the ceiling, and I chuckle. She looks at me and asks, “So, it was bad?”
The way she asks rubs me the wrong way. “Who the hell put that idea in your head?”
“You laughed. I assumed?—”
This pisses me off even more. “Why would you assume?”
“Oh … em … G, let it go.” She rolls to her side, giving me her back, and I don’t like that, not one bit.
“Just got the life sucked out of me by Lauren fucking Brooks, and she isn’t looking at me. Didn’t expect the first ever to happen. Glad—real glad—it did. Then I lay here, unable to move, because I’m more relaxed than I have been in years, even while listening to the most fucked up playlist I’ve ever heard. Now you’ve got your back to me? Nah, that doesn’t work.”
The song changes to something even more f’ed—“I Will Survive.”
Her body shakes.
“See? Even you can’t deny this playlist makes no sense.”
She still doesn’t move.
“I can’t just leave like last night. Even if I slip out of here, head through Narnia, I’ll be here in the morning.”
She sighs exaggeratedly. “I was embarrassed when you laughed, because that was, uh …” She exhales. “No one ever told me I was bad because …” She stops again, and it hits me.
“You’ve never given head before?” When she doesn’t reply, I flop to my back. “It would be wrong to give you a fist-bump, right?”
She lies on her back and holds out her fist. “I’ll take it.”
I tap her first and keep mine up. “I should get one, too, since it was my dick.”
She laughs quietly, taps it again, then clears her throat. “So, do you need to go see if your phone’s charged?”
“Wasn’t even thinking about my phone. Too busy trying to figure out how I’m already hard again.”
She rolls to her side and props her head up on her elbow, eyes slowly tracking down.
“Thinking we should recreate last night. Keep the orgasm and?—”
“Orgasms—plural.” She holds out her fist, and hell yeah, I tap it.
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