Chapter Eleven
Rip
A week later and our relationship has changed a lot. For instance, Tandy doesn’t mind coming over to my place now and we’ve actually studied there for the past three times we’ve met up. Not that we have to ‘meet up’ very often since she’s become a part of nearly all our practices. So it’s no big deal that I come to pick her up at her sister’s shop. Or that we get into a game of faux wrestling which we’ve done before -last time over the last fry in the box of take-out we ordered.
What is a big deal, is how I put my hand out to keep Tandy from falling and wind up with a whole hand full of her soft, round boob. She gasps at the touch seconds before the door to the shop opens and we both turn to stare at who came in when the shop is closed.
“Gray! Bonny!”
“Oh, your sister. Hi! Hey! Uh, I already met your brother.”
It takes me a full minute to realize I still have my hand on her tit. I remove it as stealthily as I can but don’t do a very good job because her brother-in-law is shooting me go-to-hell looks.
“We saw the light still on and I wanted to make sure you were alright since I knew you were closing alone. Well, I thought you would be alone.”
My manners finally catch up with me. “Oh crap, uh, I’m Rip. Ripley Bowman.”
I hold out my hand and wait for her to take it.
“The football player she’s been tutoring.”
“Yeah. We were going to meet to go over an essay I have to do tonight but, uh, I didn’t really want her to drive all the way back only to stay for a couple of hours and then have to drive home late at night. So I was just going to pick her up.”
“And he didn’t like me closing up alone either.”
She rolls her eyes, but BIL relaxes a little and her sister starts a whole conversation about what my essay is about.
I might carry on a conversation and even participate in a debate with Gray about what grill works better but the entire time all that is on my mind is having my hand on Tandy’s soft, round breast. How fucking full and…soft it was when it was nestled in the palm of my hand. I end up excusing myself quite a few times before we finally lock the door and say goodbye to her family.
During the car ride to my house, I barely say a word. She finally asks me if I’m feeling okay. And I’m not sure how to answer her. Am I okay? Now that I had my hands on her. When we settle in the living room, she starts out on the couch but ends up lounging in the floor and I follow her so I can be closer to her.
I finally break down and address the elephant in the room.
“Sorry about copping a feel in front of your family.”
Wait, did that come out right?
“It’s not your fault. You kind of saved me from falling and busting my face on the floor. I should be thanking you.”
“So,”
I’m a breath away from telling her I’ll take her home and we need to be done for the day when her eyes meet mine.
“What’s wrong? Is your back hurting? We can get back on the couch if you need to.”
“No. I’m good. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. What is going on, Rip? What’s wrong?”
I don’t say a word but sit up and think about making a run for it, hope I reach the bathroom before I blow my load like a fucking teenager.
“Do you need help? Please tell me, Rip. I want to help you.”
I groan at her choice of words. “You’re scaring the shit out of me, Rip.”
If she says my name one more time. “I’m hard, baby, okay. I got hard thinking about…”
I cup my hand and look down at where her shirt stretches across her breasts.
“Me?! My boobs?”
It’s kind of hard not to know since I haven’t taken my eyes off them and my hand is still out in a cup position like I might be waiting on her to put her fucking tit in my hand. I groan when the word boob pops out of her mouth.
“Can we just not say that word and pretend this didn't happen.”
I start to stand but she takes my wrist in both of hers and holds me right where I am.
“Why?”
“Why do I want to pretend this conversation never happened?”
“No, uh, why do my boobs make you…hard, or thinking about my boobs, I guess?”
She looks down at herself before continuing to try to kill me. “Pretty sure they’re not doing anything for you in this sweater.”
“Taffy, sweetheart, if you don’t stop saying the word boobs and looking at your tits I’m going to tackle you and spank that pert little ass.”
Instead of being shocked her eyes meet mine and there’s a mischievous little glint there.
“I’m pretty sure saying the word…”
“Ahhh!”
I interrupt her.
“Breasts. Tits. Fun bags.”
I tackle her to the floor and roll her over on her stomach. I get two hits in before she is yelping and wiggling around so much I’m about to lose all my civilized upbringing and rip her shirt off and put more than my hands on her tits.
We stare at one another for a long time before she bites down on her lip and leans closer to whisper to me, “Can I…touch it?”
“What?”
I was so focused on fighting back the urge to bury my face in her lush curves I didn’t catch her looking at where my jeans are tented by my hard cock.
“Never mind! Can we get back to…?”
“No, no, no! You just asked to touch my cock, didn’t you, baby? Tell the truth. No lying.”
“It was…a moment of stupidity on my part and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked something like that or made you feel uncomfortable…”
“Tandy,”
the way I say it has her stopping midsentence, “do you want to see my hard cock? No one has to know. It’s just me and you.”
And I, for one, desperately want her hands on me.