Chapter 21 Torture
Torture
JAMIE
Iwas coming apart at the fucking seams.
I don’t know how I got her to her room. We barely spoke, and when she got the door unlocked, I backed up, grunted something like goodnight and took the fuck off before I did something truly unhinged. I headed back down the hall in physical pain.
As I turned a corner, a group of people in business casual were coming from the other end, laughing and carrying drinks they must have gotten at the social. One of them looked up as I approached, and I knew they recognized me as they raised a glass and elbowed each other.
But I was in no place to talk to anyone, let alone in any kind of civilized way. I felt like I was thinking in animalistic grunts at this point. So I did the mature thing and dipped into the stairwell before they could get close.
It was blissfully quiet in there. The light flickered overhead. I pressed my back against the wall. Then I reached down, intending to readjust myself. The massive erection stuck in my waistband was fucking killing me.
But even my own innocuous touch was nearly lethal. I let out a choked sound as heat slammed through me.
“Fuck,” I breathed out loud.
I took the stairs two at a time. I needed to be as far away from Sarah as possible. At this point I didn’t trust my own judgment, not even a little bit. I could go back there.
I could—
I slammed myself against the wall at the landing. My hand went to my bulge again, my jaw clenching so tight I think something cracked.
I should have jerked myself off in the shower. The second shower I had to fake, like an idiot. At the time I was certain that that would be worse, beating myself off with Sarah in my room.
But this was torture. Of course her name and ‘coming’ in the same thought had my dick throbbing even harder now.
I was in a stairwell. I was being a creep.
I no longer cared.
Turning around so I at least faced the wall, I pressed one hand on the poor, unsuspecting wallpaper, and grabbed my length through my pants.
That was all it took. One purposeful squeeze. I came right there, spurting hot cum all over the inside of my shorts, groaning Sarah, Sarah, Sarah.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. I just stood there, panting into the wall, a hot sticky mess coating the inside of my clothes. The reprieve from feeling like I was going to explode was still settling in.
But it was already turning dark. And I knew it wouldn’t be long before a physical stain appeared on my pants, a fucking beacon to add to my growing shame.
I should never have let her in. I should never have opened up to her the way I did. I should never have drawn out what could have been a much shorter lesson, just for the fucking perverse pleasure of having her respond to my commands to do it again and again and again.
I shouldn’t have given her the whiskey.
But even as I berated myself—hated myself—for acting in the way I swore I never would…
I still wanted more.
I turned around and headed downstairs, bypassing the door I’d just come out of.
Thank fucking everything for the all-access pass card I got as a committee member. I practically sprinted down to the service corridor, grabbing a towel from a rack in the industrial laundry room.
Tiny fucking blessings, I thought, as I slinked back up to my room. Ones I didn’t deserve.