14. A Post-Run Treatment
Chapter fourteen
A Post-Run Treatment
B en had given me a lot of post-run treatments in the few weeks we’d been jogging together. Those had varied from hot, steamy showers with his face between my legs to hot, steamy showers with his cock in my mouth to hot, steamy showers followed by hot, steamy fucking in his bed followed by more hot, steamy showers.
However, all of those hot, steamy showers had taken place at his apartment since he had a massive shower that was perfect for fucking in, with dual shower heads and even a bench in it.
My apartment was pretty nice, as far as student apartments went, but my bathroom had the standard tub-and-shower combo. And while that was also a perfectly acceptable place to fuck, I’d definitely been spoiled by Ben’s shower.
So I wasn’t quite sure what kind of “post-run treatment” I was in for this time. I figured it would still start the same way, but was surprised when Ben kissed me before taking my hand and leading me to my bedroom.
He started by lifting the tank top I was wearing over my head before stripping off my lavender-and-blue patterned sports bra with a touch deft enough that it was clear he’d done that before. He set it to the side and I waited for him to peel off the matching skintight running shorts because even though I was fully capable of undressing myself, I knew Ben liked to unwrap me like I was gift wrapped in hundred dollar bills. But once I was topless, he dipped his head down to press a kiss to each of my breasts before nudging me backwards.
“On the bed,” he said.
“But my shorts—”
“Face down.”
“Oh,” I said. “You meant an actual post-run treatment.”
“Maybe I did,” he said as I climbed on the bed, then followed so he could straddle my hips and lean forward. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to touch you for as long as I can.”
“You don’t need an excuse for tha— ohhh .” My eyes fluttered shut as he started rubbing my lower back. “Fuck, Ben.”
“Good?”
I made a soft humming noise, then sighed as Ben gave me one of the most magical massages I’d ever had. Like, I would have paid for that good of a massage. Even if he hadn’t used the opportunity to do one of the hottest things I’d ever experienced in my life.
It started as nothing. As a consequence of circumstance. As a bulge bumping my ass cheek whenever he leaned in to deepen the pressure or move his hands further up my back or just because it probably felt nice to have something brush against his cock. As a promise for later, once he’d finished spoiling my body, to let all those muscles he loosened tense right back up as he made me come.
Then it became a hint of something. His bulge pressed a little harder against one ass cheek and his next breath was shaky, and two breaths after that, a quiet exhale hinted at relief after he shifted so his erection nudged against my ass crack.
Not too long after that, he leaned in under the guise of adding pressure to my shoulder blades, but the almost inaudible groan and slight pump of his hips made it clear it wasn’t just about me anymore.
Especially not after I lifted my pelvis slightly to press my ass harder against his cock and his groan turned from nearly inaudible to needy.
“Nellie,” he murmured, then ground his hips forward again.
“You can take my shorts off whenever you want, you know,” I whispered.
“Not yet.” He hit the Ts of each word hard, giving them a sharp sort of admonishment to his voice, like hinting that he could get me naked and fuck me anytime he wanted was offensive somehow. “I’m not done treating you.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so, Ms. Belanger.” He dug his thumbs into a knot beneath my shoulder and it took everything in me not to whimper. “Don’t rush me.”
“Yes, Professor Cameron,” I whispered, and smiled into the pillow, especially after he rubbed his hips forward again.
And again.
And again.
He kept touching my back, trying to continue the massage, but the pressure seemed to lessen each time he thrust himself forward, until his hands were resting on me and his hips were moving at a steady pace.
“Goddamn,” he breathed, and I bit my lip to hold in another smile. My nipples were hard, pressing into the bedspread, and warmth was pooling between my legs. He moved his hands off my back, bringing them down to my hips, and I thought he was going to finally pull my running shorts down. But instead, he ran his palms along the stretchy, skintight fabric.
“You know exactly how good your ass looks in these, don’t you?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t have bought them otherwise.”
His fingertips moved to the bottom of my shorts, slipping along the hem before he nudged them underneath. I stifled a gasp as he worked the fabric up higher and higher, pulling my shorts up until the curve of my cheeks were hanging out the bottom. He ran a finger along my ass crack, molding the fabric to my body and making me shiver.
Once he was happy with what I was trying very hard not to think of as the sexiest wedgie ever because I didn’t want to ruin the moment even though that was funny as fuck , he sat back. His hands moved away from my ass and there was a soft rustling sound. When he rested against me again, the fabric-covered bulge was gone, replaced by the thickness of his bare cock, so swollen that I could feel the heat of it through my shorts. There was a heaviness to the air, something heady and full of anticipation and excitement.
And then Ben eased his hips forward so he could rub his cock against my ass.
My core throbbed. He pulled back, dragging the head of his cock along my ass before pausing and rocking forward again.
“God,” he breathed, though it came out as more of a hiss. “Why… fucking why …”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to for me to know both the questions and the answers. He wanted to know why he liked seeing my ass eat my shorts like that. Why it was so fucking hot to pull his cock out and rub against fabric instead of skin. Why there was a perfectly good pussy right there , and he was choosing to hump me instead of fuck me.
And the answers to each of those questions, in turn, were: because it felt good, and because it felt good, and because it felt fucking good .
Even for me. Like yeah, I wouldn’t come from it. I was lucky enough to not always need something on my clit to come, but everyone knew you couldn’t come from someone grinding against your ass.
Hopefully they knew, anyway. I mean, the guy I’d “lost my virginity” to after losing it to JP asked me if I came after he’d tried to fuck my belly button, so who really knew what people thought.
But I fairly sure Ben knew I wasn’t going to come from this. And that made everything even hotter. He rarely did anything that was just for him—more than once, I’d had to plead with him to relax and let me suck his cock, promising him that sucking him off really did do something for me—so listening to him moan softly as he used my ass was turning me on more than I could have ever thought. Imagining what his cock looked like, sandwiched between my ass cheeks and pressed down by the hand he was holding over it, was making my nipples harden, pressing almost painfully into the bedspread beneath me.
And then he shifted. His fingers lifted the edge of my shorts and a moment later, the head of his cock slid beneath the fabric and between my legs. I bit my lip as he leaned forward, resting more and more of his body against me, angles changing and the heat from his shaft gliding against the wetness coating my pussy lips, until—
“Ben?” I whispered. “Not that I’m not open to talking about it, but—”
“No, no.” His lips pressed against the back of my neck. “I wouldn’t without asking. I promise. I just want… I mean, feeling you—” He stopped, making an aggravated sound as he couldn’t find the words. “I want to touch you like—”
He eased his hips forward the same way he had when he was on top of my shorts. My breath hitched and both of us shuddered as the head of his cock pushed between my pussy lips before brushing against my clit.
“—like that.” His voice was choked. “Is this okay?”
“Mmm…” I said, my voice high-pitched. “Maybe. Can you do it one more time so I can see?”
His lips curled into a smile. Without a word, he pushed his hips forward, and I had to slam my eyes shut as a soft ungh sound escaped my lips.
“How’s that?” he growled in my ear.
“T-Try it once more,” I gasped. “Just to be sure.”
Both of us moaned as he thrust again, and then again, and then a hand slid underneath me and cupped my breast as Ben started fully fucking my thighs, coating his cock with my wetness and grinding against my clit with every movement. I cried out, the pillow muffling my moans as he pinched my nipple and kissed my neck, his breath hot on my skin as he both fucked me and didn’t fuck me at the same time, my pussy getting wetter and wetter until my body couldn’t take it anymore.
His thighs held my legs in place as bliss rushed through me. I tried not to buck my hips, but I wasn’t in charge of my own motions anymore; my body writhed in Ben’s arms as an intense surge of electrical pleasure took over. And that probably wasn’t a good thing, considering neither of us meant for the angle to change enough that his tip nudged against the entrance of my pussy, but Ben hurriedly pulled back instead of sinking into me the way I would’ve probably begged him to had I been capable of speaking at the time.
But that single second of almost being inside me seemed to be it for Ben. A low, heady rumble started and he thrust forward harder, then immediately pulled back, the heat of his cock disappearing from between my legs and his hand moving out from under me. Barely a breath later, warmth flooded the backs of my thighs, soaking through my running shorts and pooling in the place where my legs pressed together.
He sat heavily on my legs for a moment, just long enough to take a deep breath, then forced himself to move off so he wouldn’t crush me.
“Sorry,” he whispered as he reached over to the nightstand to grab some tissues. “I came all over you.”
“Do I look like I’m complaining?”
He carefully began to wipe up the mess. “I would hate to think I ruined these lovely shorts.”
“If by ‘ruined’ you mean I won’t be able to wear them when I go jogging anymore because I’ll get too turned on thinking about the time you came all over them, then yeah, I guess you ruined them. Otherwise, I have questions about your inability to wash cum out of fabric.”
“Well, I’ve never had to wash it out of this kind of fabric.” There was a smile in his voice as he started peeling my shorts off so I could roll over without spreading the mess onto my blankets.
“I guess they don’t make socks out of this type of material, hey?”
“Socks?” he repeated, then realized what I was saying and scoffed derisively. “I don’t use socks as cum catchers.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Wash cloths? Towels? Or are you one of those kinky guys who has a collection of panties he uses to—”
I cut myself off with a giggling shriek as Ben spanked my bare ass cheek. “Kleenex, Ms. Belanger. Or a shower.”
He didn’t stay over too much longer after that since he was heading out of town to visit his ex and her wife for a few days and needed to finish packing, both for that and for his move to California. After he left, I ran a load of laundry to wash the shorts he came on, and then a second one a few hours later when I realized I’d forgotten to put the shorts in the first load. As I was setting a reminder on my phone to switch loads, it vibrated with a new message.
Syd
Pizza
Me
When
Syd
Ordering now
Me
Here/watch LISK documentary?
Syd
No, here. Reid pitching in
Bring beer
Me
Counter: give Reid slice, bring here/watch LISK documentary
Have beer
She sent an eyeroll emoji and told me we’d watch the rest of the documentary later and to just come down to her apartment to eat. Slipping on a pair of shoes, I grabbed six random beers from my fridge, shoved them in one of the cardboard six-pack holders I kept stacked in my front closet instead of recycling them like a normal person, and went down to their apartment.
It made sense once I got there why Sydney wanted to stay at her place. Not that there was anything wrong with her, but Reid had a bleary look to him and clearly wanted to stay in. He clearly hadn’t expected me to show up, either, since he looked kind of greasy and was wearing old grey sweatpants and a ripped T-shirt when I first walked in.
“Thanks,” Sydney whispered after he excused himself to change. “Alison’s been calling him non-stop and being totally toxic. And he thinks she stole his Adderall because he asked—well.” She huffed. “I think he just forgot to refill it but the pharmacy said he’s not allowed to get a refill for another week. I figured inviting you over would at least get him to shower.”
“You could’ve just told me that,” I whispered back.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you were still down from the weekend.”
I frowned. “So you thought tricking me to use me was better?”
She shrugged shamelessly. “How’s the saying go? Feed two moping drama queens with one pizza?”
“I’m not moping. I’ve been fine since we got back,” I said despite the fact that I’d been mopey enough to ask Ben to go for a run with me. But Sydney didn’t need to know that since things seemed a lot better once I’d had an orgasm. “And you better have ordered more than one pizza.”
“Well, I haven’t seen you since we drove back,” she said. “But I’m glad you’re doing better. Have you talked to JP?”
I cracked one of the beers I brought open and gave it to her before grabbing another for myself. “Why would I have heard from him? I’m not in Montreal.”
She shrugged and sipped her beer. “I dunno. I thought maybe he’d follow up on the gala.”
“I mean, he asked me what colour tie he should wear, but I don’t know what colour dress Kimberlee is going to pick.” I tried not to sound bitter. “It’s not like I talk to him other than to figure out when and where we’re hooking up. We didn’t even know we were both going to be at Illumi-Nite last weekend.”
“Makes sense,” she said. “And your dad?”
I snorted. “The silver lining about pissing off my dad is that if I make him mad enough, he tends to not want to see me for a while. He won’t call until next week.”
Of course, since I said that, my dad had to go and make me a fucking liar not twenty minutes later, immediately after a freshly showered Reid had set two steaming boxes of pizza on the coffee table.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I said as my phone vibrated, the screen lighting up with my dad’s name.
Sydney frowned. “I thought you said he wouldn’t call until—”
“Yeah. So this means he needs something from me.” I hesitated, wondering if I could get away with just ignoring it, but couldn’t bring myself to let the call go unanswered. Sighing, I picked it up and tapped the screen.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, ma fille ange ,” my dad said.
“Hi,” I said.
He didn’t bother with small talk, which was fine with me since it meant we’d get off the phone faster. “You will need to come to Montreal. There is an unexpected event I require your attendance at.”
And maybe it was because Sydney and Reid were sitting right there, listening to my side of the conversation. Maybe their presence made me feel more confident than I usually did when I talked to my dad. Or maybe I was just tired of the fucking audacity he had to ask me for more after throwing out half my clothes and ignoring my boundaries.
Whatever it was, I held myself up a bit straighter, my shoulders square as if standing up to him required physical effort.
“I can’t. I’m busy that day.”
“I did not tell you a day, Eleanor,” he said, his voice flat.
“I’m not coming to Montreal again,” I said. “I told you I’d be there for the Diamond Gala. I’m already coming there early for it. I have a life outside of the stuff you need me for.”
“This is important.”
“It’s important to you,” I said. “Not me.”
Sydney pumped her fist in the air, opening her mouth in a silent cheer before giving me a thumbs up. That bolstered me even more, so when my dad let out another impatient sigh, I was ready.
“I understand you are frustrated after last weekend,” he said in a cold tone that made it clear he didn’t understand at all. “However, I need you in town this week. Friday during the day at a minimum.”
“Dad, unless someone has literally died, I’m not coming to Montreal this week,” I said.
“Well,” he replied. “I will see you Friday, then.”