Chapter 15
Emma
I stretch out my arms and roll onto my side, but can't move because of Rafi. He's too heavy and his arms are wrapped around me tightly. I look around the room and see the sun is already up, we both slept in. I was so exhausted from the night before, having got no sleep.
Last night, Rafi and I hung out and had good old-fashioned missionary sex, twice, after we went to bed. I don't know where our stamina comes from, but I'm impressed by the both of us. I had never had an orgasm during sex before and now, it's like his mission to see if he can give me even more than the previous time.
More of them, longer lasting, more intense. Everything about him is more.
I turn and face him, with sleep in my voice and say, "I love you, Rafi."
He smiles and leans in to kiss me on the lips, "I love you too Emma."
"I can't believe how late I slept." I glance at the clock by my bed, "8 am! Wow. That's so late for me."
"I know, but you were tired and needed sleep."
I nod in agreement, press my hand onto his chest and run my palm over his smooth skin. His pecs are rock solid, and I slide my fingertips down his washboard abs. The man is a living Calvin Klein ad, no joke. My hand lowers further, caressing the V shape of his hips and I wrap my palm around his cock. It's already firm and twitches in my hand.
He gives me a funny look, then moves to get out of bed.
Wait, what?
I watch him get dressed and I don't know if I'm more offended or confused. We both have the day off today, which is rare, and I thought we were going to spend it in bed. I watch his cock bounce as he tucks it into his pants, it looks painful and he winces.
I sit up, letting the blanket fall away from my chest. I open my mouth to ask what's wrong, when he says, "Come on, let's see what you've got in the kitchen for breakfast."
I'm still a little dumbfounded looking around my empty bedroom, but maybe he needs a break from me. Oh no, what if that's it? I've pushed him too far.
Feeling awkward, I get up and get dressed, throwing on a floral sundress and some knee-high socks. I go into the bathroom and I put on my contacts, trying not to feel offended that my boyfriend just rebuffed sex.
When I leave the bathroom I hear Rafi talking to someone. I head down the hall, "Did you say someth—"
He's sitting at the kitchen table with his phone on speaker. "Yeah, thanks for taking my call, Coach. I was hoping we could just review the schedule for the next few weeks."
Bewildered, I slowly walk into the kitchen, hearing a gruff older voice on the other end of the line. "Thanks for getting in touch this morning, and I'm glad I have you because we need to talk about that endorsement deal. Jimmy has been annoying the piss outta me. He wants you to call him back about it."
The man on the other line starts talking about advertisements and having Rafi endorse a type of tape that you put on muscles when they're sore. I don't get why Rafi would set this call up this morning, not that I mind, but when I glance back at him, I give pause.
There's a glint in his eye. Heat in his expression, the way his head is tilted down. He's on my laptop, he must have his email open or something, and the phone in front of him is on speaker almost out of reach and—oh. Oh.
I just figured it out. He read my stories yesterday. This was one of my short stories! He's taking an 'important business call.' And then I pull the phone out of his reach so he can't hang up or mute it. Then, I climb underneath the table…
Oh shit, I love this man. I test my theory by walking slowly over to the table. I place my finger on the edge of the phone, and without breaking eye contact, I slide the phone away from him. He can still hear the person on the other line. But Rafi would have to get up to reach for the phone again if he wants to mute it or hang up.
As soon as the phone is out of his reach, a devious smile passes his lips, and he's very pleased I caught on. And I am delighted he's role-playing and not turning me down for sex.
"Yeah, I don't know how I feel about endorsements just yet, I told you. I'm not crazy about putting my name on anything until my position in the league is fortified," Rafi tells the man.
His coach replies that it's a simple product and goes into all the reasons why Rafi should consider it. It sounds more like Rafi has been ignoring his agent, than his coach is interested in the product and more just wants them off his back. Their voices sound further away though, as I lower to my knees opposite the table and crawl underneath toward him.
I confidently tease the waistband of his jogger pants, and his abs contract as my fingertips trace the edges, his rigid cock straining up against the material.
I reach for the waistband and tug on his pants, wanting them all the way off. He hesitates for a second, and then lifts his hips, helping me fully undress him from the waist down.
He's still talking to his coach, carrying on a normal conversation about work, but under here, underneath my kitchen table, I'm going to do my best to distract him and make him break. That's how my story goes, anyway.
I run the tip of my finger up the length of his cock, and it twitches and bobs, but he still doesn't make a sound. I like this game. I press his rigid cock up against his abdomen and spread his legs a bit so I can reach underneath and gently caress his balls. There's a slight jerk of his knees, but it's not enough of a reaction. In my story, I make him squirm in agony.
They're still arguing about Rafi taking the deal or not, and something about his agent Jim.
I gather saliva then run my lips up his length and when I get to the tip, I flick my tongue before taking him fully into my mouth, and suck as soon as my lips near his base. His knee jerks, so I do it again. I bob my head down, fully engulfing him and again, I hollow out my cheeks, while twisting his base with my grip, tugging up.
His voice is finally starting to waver, a little more breathy and a little more silence on his end. I reach underneath and gently massage his balls with one hand, keeping my other hand wrapped around the base of his cock.
With a twist up his length I begin to work him with my mouth, letting his tip hit the back of my throat. Faster and faster I move, my entire goal right now to get him to come before his conversation ends. To make him have to hang up or brace through it.
I don't relent, I keep sucking and bobbing. "Fuck!" He hisses, and I smile into it.
"What was that?" His coach asks, and I start working him more with my tongue all while still taking him in and out of my mouth.
"I uhh, I just hit my knee, it's fine, what were you saying?"
"You hit your knee? Is it okay? Shit, well make sure you ice it." His coach starts to panic that his prize fighter hurt himself and I'm enjoying this way too much. Rafi assures him he's fine, but that sneak, he found a way to make all his breathy noises legit, by pretending he's hurt.
I need to pay him back for that, so I release his cock from my mouth and decide to start torturing him even more.
I wrap my hand around his length and start to work him, furiously, knowing my hand can move faster than my head. I'm still cupping his balls and, just to fuck with him, I slide my fingers between his legs toward his ass. I'll never get a finger inside him at this angle, and he's never expressed interest in me doing so, but the idea that I'm about to, sets him off, forcing him to squeeze and twitch.
He's barely talking now, having asked his coach to start reviewing the schedule, so he didn't have to say anything. He's breathing heavily and jerking his hips up into my hand and I squeeze harder, pump him faster.
"I'm—" he's about to tell me he's coming, forgetting his coach is on the phone. I feel like I won a prize and just when I notice his abs contract, I wrap my mouth around him again and let him fuck my mouth. He grunts and slams his fist down, my head barely avoiding hitting the tabletop, while he releases into me. Finally he slows and shakes, making an excuse to his coach that his knee still hurts.
I swallow every drop.
When he relaxes, I crawl back out from under the table and head into the kitchen to wash my hands, getting breakfast started. A few minutes later, he hangs up the phone, and I barely have time to turn around and tease him before he's returning the favor, lifting me up on the kitchen counter, and sticking his head under my dress.