Chapter 4
Dane
Iwoke up sweating and thirsty but refreshed. And confused.
Where the fuck was I?
There was an unfamiliar weight on my chest. Warmth. Softness. Someone snoring softly—a nearly silent inhale and a long exhale at the back of the throat.
I opened my eyes—Lindsey Snelling was fast asleep on my chest. One hand was cupping the side of my neck, her nose nuzzling my throat. I felt her breath huff hot on my skin.
Then, as my gaze traveled south, problems arose.
Her T-shirt—mine, which she had found and kept—had rucked up in her sleep and was now crumpled up above her hips. Which revealed the fact that she hadn't been wearing a damned thing under it. As in, that sweet, big, juicy, firm, plump, round ass was bare in all its magnificent glory.
And my hands were cupping it. I squeezed—goddamn, it was perfect. I groaned softly, not wanting to wake her but unable to stop the sound of appreciation from emerging.
Hands off the ass, Dane, I told myself.
I didn't listen to me, naturally.
No, instead, I copped another feel. A slow, petting caress of its roundness, a gentle exploration of its delicious, delectable expanse. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she had a great ass.
For a fraught moment, all I could think about was having her on her hands and knees as I pounded into her hot, wet pussy from behind, feeling this ass—which I squeezed again and then immediately gentled my grip to a soft caress—smash and squish and jiggle as I crushed my hips into it.
I'd take a double handful as I fucked her, and then as she started coming, I'd spank her.
Fuck!
My cock was an iron rod behind my sweatpants, throbbing with arousal. What a way to wake up, good lord.
Lindsey stirred, snuffled sleepily. Hummed. Wriggled on me. Rubbed her naked pussy against my erection.
I had to move—I had to get out from under her. If she did that again, I was gonna pop my load in my pants like a fourteen-year-old virgin watching porn for the first time.
Which was a firm “hell no” for me. Not happening.
I slipped as slowly and carefully as I could out from under her, trying as hard as I could to not rouse her. I think I succeeded—I reached my feet and she was still out, albeit making more waking-up noises.
I limp to the bathroom—my left leg was half asleep and tingling.
I stopped at the toilet and lifted the lid, but I had a major problem: I was rocking a monster hard-on.
For the non-dick-havers in the audience, pissing with a hard-on was a physics problem: erect dick point up—toilet down, peepee go wrong direction.
Now what? Wait for it to subside? I had to piss now. Do a handstand? I wasn’t a gymnast, and how did you aim? Stand halfway across the bathroom and arc the stream? You’d get piss literally everywhere. Sit and lean forward? Maybe. Stand in the tub and let ‘er rip? I would, but this isn't my place.
Maybe I can just bend it down enough to get the stream into the toilet?
"Dane?" Lindsey's sleepy voice comes from behind me.
"Oh, uh…" I had my sweatpants down in front and my dick in my hand as I tried to angle it downward.
"What…uhhh…what are you doing?"
"Trying to piss," I growled, annoyed at how embarrassing this was.
"Trying?" I heard her shuffle forward, and then she was beside me, staring down at my erection. "Oh." She giggled. "I see the issue."
I had no words—my mind is blank. I let my dick go and tugged my sweatpants back up. "You go. I'll just…wait."
I left the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
I went into the kitchen, located her coffeemaker and supplies, and started a pot.
While it brewed, I braced my hands on the counter and breathed, focusing on nothing, willing my erection to go away so I could relieve my screaming, aching, burning bladder.
Normally, when I woke up with morning wood, it was gone by the time I reached the bathroom, because normally, morning wood wasn’t about arousal, it was just a physiological thing, and often because of a full bladder.
This was not that, and the bastard was not going away.
Mainly because my stupid monkey brain kept unhelpfully supplying me with a montage of erotic images involving Lindsey and that perfectly plump peach and all the sinful things I want to do to her.
"Still having your…ummm, problem?" I heard and jumped, startled.
"Shit!" I gasped. "Yes. I am."
She stood behind me, hesitated. "I…um. I don't know what to say."
"Nothing to say," I growled. "I have to piss, but the hard-on won't go away."
"Think about dead kittens and naked nuns?" she suggested.
"That doesn't work," I mumbled. "Nothing is working."
"Morning wood usually goes away on its own pretty fast, I thought. That's what my ex always told me."
I sighed. "Not morning wood."
"Oh. Ummm…"
I turned on her—which was a mistake. That shirt barely cleared her crotch, and now I knew she was naked under it. Her nipples were hard, poking against the material. I felt my cock twitch—going harder rather than softer. "It's your fault."
"M-mine?" she squeaked. “How is it my fault?"
I advanced on her, erection first. "Ask me how I know you're not wearing any panties, Lindey.”
Her face goes white and then red. "Oh. I…um. You—I—”
I stepped closer again, until we were not quite touching—you couldn't fit a sheet of paper between her tits and my chest, but we weren't touching.
I tugged the hem of her shirt up, keeping my eyes firmly on hers.
"Ask me how I know you have a triangle of freckles right…
here." I traced a triangle on her right ass cheek, near the top on the outside, just below that sexy fucking dimple, where the freckles were, according to my very vivid memory.
"Dane," she whispered.
"I woke up with my hands all over this gorgeous ass of yours," I murmured, palming both cheeks. "And now all I can think about is what I'd like to do to it."
She whimpered, leaning into me, crushing her tits against me, gazing up at me with her mouth hanging open, eyes wide. "I can't."
"I know."
"You have to know it's not because I don't like you or that I'm not attracted to you," she whispered.
"I don't know that, as a matter of fact,” I said. “I don't know anything for sure, at least when it comes to what you're thinking or feeling." I slid my hand up and pinched her erect nipple. “Is this because you're cold?"
"No,” she breathed. "I do want you."
"But?"
A hard swallow. “If you were anyone else, I'd help you out, Dane. But it's you. And I can't."
"I don't understand."
"I'm fucked up right now, and it's because of you. Not that you did anything wrong—you didn't. I just…it's not you, really. It’s…ah, shit, I’m not making any goddamn sense.” She rests her forehead on my chest, sighing.
"I want to help you, Dane. But I…if I did, I'd…
it'd be…I just can't. I'm sorry. It wouldn't be fair to you. "
I turned away. "I get it."
"I don't think you do. That's no shade to you, Dane, I just don't think you can." Soft hands rested on my shoulders. "Go in there and take care of it."
"No."
"Why not?"
"I'm not jerking off in your bathroom."
Her lips brushed my ear. "You want a pair of my panties to jerk off into?"
"What? Fuck no, that's weird."
"Dane, I'm trying to help. I want you, but right now, if I touched you, we'd do stuff. And if we did stuff, it would confuse things for both of us."
"I'm not asking you to do anything, Linz," I murmured. "I believe you. I'll be fine."
I wasn't fine.
The damn erection was a stubborn motherfucker, unhelped by her scent, her proximity, the soft press of her breasts against my back, the memory of her bare ass in my hands, the memory of that night we shared flashing through my brain like a PowerPoint slideshow of our greatest moments—which was all of them.
I felt her chin on my shoulder. "Not going away, huh?"
I almost told her it wasn’t going to until she left me alone, but I didn't want her to leave me alone. "No," was all I said.
She pushed me toward her room. Into the bathroom. Had me face the toilet. "C'mon, Dane."
I pivoted to face her. "I will if you will."
"At the same time? Watching each other?"
"Yes."
She bit her lip. "That's a dangerous, slippery slope."
"I want to see that toy in action," I said.
She turned away, left the room, and came back with the clit stimulator, went to her bed, settled on it, knees drawn up and pressed together—providing me with a teasing glimpse of her ass.
She pressed the power button, and the white silicone surrounding the opening glowed pink, and she pressed the button that cycled through the settings until it was buzzing softly.
I grabbed the waist of my sweatpants, but hesitated. “This is a little crazy, Linz," I muttered.
"I know," she answered, gripping the hem of the shirt. "I wish I could just…do what I want to do. But it wouldn't make anything better. Only worse."
"You don't need to keep explaining," I said. "I get it."
"I don't know if I can," she whispered. "No one has ever watched me masturbate before."
"Me either," I said.
But the situation was untenable. Just the thought of watching Lindsey orgasm had me harder than ever, and the bladder situation was still an issue. I wasn't even sure if I could come while I had to pee, but I guess we'd find out.
I peeled off my shirt and tossed it aside; Lindsey's eyes widened and I watched her pupils dilate, watched her knees press together harder.
She let her knees drop, legs extending. Without taking her eyes off mine, she leaned forward to tug the hem of the shirt out from under her butt, and then stripped it off.
"Goddamn, Linz," I whispered. "So fucking hot."
She blushed. "You too."
Her tits, man. Just fucking perfect. My cock twitched at the sight of them as they swayed, pert pink nipples standing on end, begging for my lips, my tongue.
"Dane," she breathed. "Let me see."