I like her. A lot. #5
Toweling off only a little because I’m so eager to get to her, I wrap the terry around my waist and find Delane completely naked under my sheets. Or, what I’m assuming to be completely naked because there is a pile of clothes folded, sitting on my chair near the closet.
She raises her eyebrows at the bulge protruding beneath the towel. “And you’re big, too.” She shakes her head, clucking her tongue as she does. “Of course you are.”
I stroke my cock over the towel, knowing I’m not even completely at launch phase yet. Shrugging, I say, “I hear it’s not the size of the ship but the motion in the ocean. ”
“Did you really just say that?”
We both enjoy a laugh at my expense, making being in the same room together while naked much easier.
It may not be a big deal to her, but I’ve never been in a room naked with someone like this before.
It’s a big deal to me, and her laughter paired with how she pats the bed next to her, inviting me, it’s so easy.
An emotional cage, I guess, is what it feels like. I’m not worried because I feel safe.
I slide onto my bed next to her, keeping the towel on.
She rests her head in her hand, elbow to the mattress, keeping her up.
“Where’d you go after work today?” she asks, all teasing gone from her tone.
She’s genuinely curious, I think, and with how quiet her tone is, part of me wonders if she isn’t worried about the answer. But why would she be?
“Eh, I had to help a friend,” I say, telling the truth but a very vague truth shrouded by ambiguity. Because… we’re about to do things, clearly, and where I went after work today doesn’t seem relevant.
I match her position, getting comfortable with my head propped in my palm.
There’s just a foot between us and with the sheets pulled up to her breasts and up to my waist, it feels like we’ve already been intimate.
And that fact makes things easier, too. Or maybe it’s not any setting or anything.
Maybe this is just how it feels with the right person.
She narrows her eyes at me with a tilted smirk. “A friend, huh?” She pokes me in the chest, then teases some of my chest hair with her fingers, pinching and releasing softly. “Friends like you and me?”
I catch her hand, which catches her off guard.
Pressing her palm to my chest, I give her a nudge, and when she begins softly rubbing, I almost die a little.
“That feels so good, and no, not like us.” She pauses as her face softens like that’s music to her ears, then she continues stroking my pecs. “He’s twelve.”
Her brows pull together. She doesn’t quit rubbing, and it's now that I realize my cock is already fat and heavy against my belly, ready for action. Thank god for this sheet.
“Who are you talking about?” She never stops stroking my chest.
“I’m a big brother. You know, like the sponsoring mentor kind.
There’s a kid here in Oakcreek who I’ve been seeing for a while.
” I take a breath, feeling so exposed telling her about him.
Beau and Atti know, but it's one of those things you just don't talk about. Boasting about taking a role in someone’s life is kind of gross.
Her hand stops, but she keeps it resting against me, and my frantic pulse convinces me to place my hand on top of hers, trapping it there. She grins, and I don’t know if it’s in response to my hand or what I’ve just told her.
“Miller,” she sighs, contented and calm. I’m glad to make her feel that way because that’s exactly how she makes me feel, too. “That’s so cool of you.” She bites into her bottom lip, wrinkling her nose a little, making a rush of precum storm the peak of my cock, leaking onto the sheets. “And hot.”
I laugh at that, hoping for my dick to hear the laughter and calm down. He’s all systems go right now, and I haven’t even figured out if I need launch codes yet. “I don’t know how it’s hot, but… okay.”
Her smile slides away as a deeper level of care crosses her face. “What do you do with him? What’s his name?” And before I answer, she adds, “you know Mara is twelve, too.”
I nod because, of course, I knew that. “We play basketball when it’s nice. I take him to places, out to eat, and to the library and stuff. We’ve built a model airplane together, and I’m teaching him how to play chess. ”
“You play chess?” she asks, the torque of her arm still stroking my chest slowly lowering the sheet. The darkness of her nipple is visible through the sheet but just barely, just enough to send my mind into a total tailspin.
Again, I nod. “Yeah. I learned it as a kid. One of the only games I could play.”
She winces. “Exciting.”
I laugh. “Right? Anyway, we do other stuff. I don’t know. Honestly, it's mostly about talking. I’m there to listen. All I want to do is make sure he feels heard. Being heard should not be a luxury.”
She nods. “You’re right; it shouldn’t. And I think it’s great you’re giving him what you didn’t get.”
She’s perceptive and already lacing my past with my present, which means she’s thinking deeply about me.
I like that. “His mom is great. She listens to him; I don’t want to come across like I’m some hero.
She’s great.” I sigh, and my balls burn with need as she drags her nail across the pebbled flesh of my nipple, sending shockwaves through me.
“But she’s overworked and underpaid and exhausted.
And the program– Siblings Saturday– they’ll kick you out if you try to donate too much. ”
“Really?”
I nod. “It seems confusing, but it eliminates any people looking to… buy off kids for personal use.” I cringe saying the words, but it’s partially true; that’s what they told me. “And also so that the parents don’t feel bad.”
She shakes her head, and I don’t look as the sheet slides a little further down. “That’s… wow. Some people are truly fuck heads.”
I smile because while that term isn’t one I’d readily thought of using, I like that she expresses herself however she sees fit. I like that self-expression is easy for her. I guess opposites attract.
“I get that.”
“I work on his mom’s ride, too, if she needs it. Used the lift at Kings before to do some repairs, Beau’s cool with it.”
She arches a brow, and the sheet continues its taunting journey down as she shifts on my bed.
“You let your ex make you feel bad about being a mechanic but look at what you did. You helped this boy and his mom. You had knowledge, and the heart to give.” She surprises me by leaning in and taking a kiss from my lips.
I lean into it as she pulls back, grinning at me.
“I guess,” I say because helping Zeth and his mom never feels like some big act of service or something heartwarming. It’s just helping a friend. Zeth is my friend. It’s that simple.
“Lie on your back,” she says, and as she reaches up to push my shoulder, the sheet finally gives way. I place my hand on hers, over my shoulder, and freeze. Our eyes sway together, back and forth as her warm breath flanks my nose.
“The sheet,” I croak, my voice raspy and my willpower quickly dissolving. I haven’t looked because I’m not sure that’s what she wants. But god, stealing a glance at Delane’s bare breasts–just the thought has me reaching beneath the sheet, adjusting my length against my belly.
She kisses me again, then brings my hand through the space between us, resting it against her collarbone.
“Now you rub my chest,” she says, and for a second, I don’t know if I can.
I don’t want to finish all over myself. Sensing my hesitation as my hand rests idly on the gentle slope of her collarbone, she asks, “have you… done this before?”
The question isn’t patronizing but inquisitive like my answer will change the way she cares for me at this moment as if I need another reason to fall for her.
“I have felt breasts, yes,” I laugh softly, needing to clarify, even though the truth brings a hefty side of embarrassment.
“Not shirtless or braless,” I add, but really, touching bare breasts for the first time isn’t what has my hips aching to move, dying for my cock to slide against my belly for friction.
It's Delane's bare breasts.
“Never yours, either,” I add like she doesn’t know. But instead of teasingly smacking me and telling me she’s aware that hasn’t happened, she places her hand on mine and moves it to her breast.
The breath I suck in when she curls my fingers around her breast— “oh god,” I ground out, my vision going a little hazy at the sheer impact of the moment.
“Drag your thumb over my nipple,” she breathes, inching her body closer to mine until my cockhead is abrading against… her belly.
“Ohhh,” she breathes out, her eyes fluttering closed as I let my thumb drag across her nipple over and over, the feeling of my cock against her naked body almost too much.
“I like that. But if I wasn’t telling you that I liked that, you’d know because I got closer to you.
” She rolls her lips together, and the sound of it makes my cock hum.
I nod, and as much as I want to play it cool, my brain doesn’t send the right message to my mouth.
“Are you gonna touch me?” I breathe out the question like I’ve used my last breath, but that’s how I feel.
My chest is burning with all that I want to say but can’t, and my body is thrumming from everything I need but can’t take.
She smiles and reaches up, sifting her fingers through my hair. “Your hair is so soft. I knew it would be.” Her nails grating my scalp makes my cock buzz.
“You knew it? Like, you’ve thought about my hair, huh?” I realize it’s hair and not my dick, but at this rate, I’ll take any little scrap she’ll give me. I’m starved for it.
I can’t stop kneading and caressing her breast, and as she watches her own fingers sift through my hair, I watch my hand move over her bare body, loving how it looks. Loving how it feels. Loving it too much, maybe.