Chapter 19
Calvin
Iam hard.
Why the hell am I hard?
Thank god for the elastic in the waistband of my shorts, shielding me from exposing the truth, Nikita has turned me on.
One point to her, indeed, but she doesn’t need to know that.
She doesn’t need to know that her touch sent the blood rushing straight to my groin and her mouth, where those words of defiance fall from, has me thinking that the elastic holding me in place is going to snap at any point. I am not sure what they put in that oil but when her hands touched me and she found a rhythm over my body, there was no stopping my mind from thinking about what it would feel like to be touched by her. Really touched by her. To have her run those fingers of hers over me. Every inch of me now aches with the need to take her and show her how easily I can make her cave to me.
I’m surprised at how quickly I fall victim to her touch. Those hands knew exactly what they were doing as they moved over me, applying pressure against my body, moving in a motion that allowed her to work through loosening those muscles that ached for relief. Even now as I stand away from her, I still feel her touch lingering. She steps past me, leaning against the massage table as she reaches for the thin straps that are tied together around her neck, allowing the cream crocheted dress she has on over her bikini to fall down her body. She shimmies out of it, dropping it to the floor, exposing those curves of hers that demand attention. My eyes drop over her, no matter how much I try to fight it - my dick has a mind of its own and it’s enjoying the view.
I attempt to shake all those inappropriate thoughts from my mind as I move to stand at the head of the table. She pulls her long, thick curly hair into a messy bun on her head exposing thin black writing on the back of her neck.
“You have a tattoo?”
“I have five,” she says with a matter-of-fact tone, turning to face me, her bikini top is unable to contain her full breasts entirely, “It doesn’t surprise me that you don’t pay attention.”
I avert my eyes from her body, not needing to fight against the elastic of my shorts anymore than I already am, “I do, but only to things of interest to me.”
She ignores my comment as she moves to position herself on the table. Before she turns over, my eyes drop to her breasts once more, her hard nipples exposed through the thin material.
She’d be better off without that bikini top.
A hot rush of blood shoots straight to my groin, making it physically painful to try and stop it from hardening any further. My mind betrays me, the image of having that top of hers ripped off her skin allowing me the pleasure of seeing what her breasts have to offer. My mouth goes dry at the thought of what it will be like to slide my tongue around one of those hardened nipples. My hands tighten into fists, desperate to keep any physical reactions that can be used against me.
I hear loud clapping to my side, snapping me back to reality. “Now, tell me, how do you feel?” Amari asks, “Do you feel good?”
She catches me by surprise but I manage to stop that from being visible. I swallow and attempt to clear my mind, “Y-yes.”
She clasps her hands together in excitement. “That’s what I love to hear!” Glancing around, she instructs person B to lie down and Nikita follows her instruction. “Person A, listen up.” Her hands land on my shoulders giving it a squeeze.
Nikita’s head turns to watch Amari and I, with nothing but amusement in them. “Help.” I mouth. She shakes her head with a smile playing on her lips before she mouths back. “No way.”
“Now, you get the pleasure of making your partner feel the same way. They’ve done their job and now it needs to be reciprocated. That’s what relationships are all about - the perfect balance of give and take.” Her hands move from my shoulders as she walks through the tent again, stopping by another couple. “Everyone, take a deep breath in!”
I take a deep breath in, hoping that the fresh wave of oxygen will clear my mind from the bombardment of inappropriate thoughts it’s being subjected to right now.
“This is beautiful!” Amari says, her voice oozing excitement, “I can feel it in the air. I can smell the connection, the desire, the intimacy.”
What in the world were Kenneth and Britney thinking? Why did they think this is something we all have to experience? They could easily participate in this intimacy class without the rest of us. Not everything has to be a group activity. Amari instructs us all to get started, the music increasing in volume as the sound of chimes seeps through the speakers along with a gentle beat.
Nikita has since lay down, her tied up hair exposing her tattoo to me. I lean closer and see cursive writing sprawled on the back of her neck.
C’est la vie.
Without thinking, I run my fingers over the writing, taking note of how soft her skin is. It’s the kind of soft that makes you want to continue feeling it. An inflection in Amari’s voice snaps me back to reality. Taking both my hands, I move them over her shoulders, my thumbs moving upwards, applying pressure against the base of her neck as my fingers push deep into her shoulders. The longer my hands move over her skin, increasing the pressure in my movements, the more I feel myself getting lost in her.
What the fuck is happening to me?
I don’t want to stop touching her. My brain is telling me that I probably should, but there is no way my body is going to cooperate with that thing. The brain in my pants is the one prompting my actions and I want - no, I need - to take full advantage of this activity. I press deeper against her, feeling the kinks beneath her skin. I must have released a good one because a soft, pleasure-filled moan vibrates through her body.
If I wasn’t touching her, I would have missed it, but now I am determined to see what other kinds of reactions I can get out of her as she lies at the mercy of my touch. I move my hands to wrap around the sides of her body, using my thumbs to apply more pressure along the sides of her spine. Her muscles are tight and I repeat the motion, finding a repetitive rhythm that loosens them with each round.
Disappearing into the activity, I am solely focused on Nikita and all the ways I can make her feel good. Clearly this class knows what it’s doing, but given that Nikita and I are not a real couple, this is fucking with my head. That doesn’t stop me from moving my hands back up to the base of her neck, using the balls of my hand to press over her shoulders.
“Oh god,” Nikita moans, only loud enough for me to hear.
My cock pulses - what a sound.
Her head shoots up, eyes wide as she realizes what she has done. The corners of my lips pull in amused satisfaction.
“You didn’t hear-.”
“Oh, I heard it, princess.”
Her cheeks stain pink, giving me a rush of satisfaction almost as good as an orgasm. In that moment, Nikita hands herself over to me and her body reacts accordingly. My movements over her skin are deliberate, desperate to see how far she can go without giving into those physical desires that can’t be immune to the mind games.
I lean in close to her ear, careful to make sure my breath brushes against her skin. “What’s that now? One-one?”
Nikita pushes up onto her hands, swinging her legs around the side of the table, forcing me to step back, meeting Amari’s immediate protest. “Uh, uh, uh - where do you think you’re going?”
Nikita lifts her hand to her head, her eyes dropping, “I-I’m feeling faint.”
Liar.
I have to pull at the inside of my bottom lip to stop my laughter. I get immense satisfaction in knowing that Nikita - even though she would vehemently deny it - is turned on.
The flushed pink tone in her cheeks certainly plays into her fib.
“Oh, dear, you do look flushed,” Amari rushes over looking concerned, “You need to hydrate, love.” Amari takes Nikita’s hand before turning to everyone else. “Please take it easy everyone, it’s still incredibly hot, and I know what you’re going to ask, why is it this hot in September and my answer to that is climate change, lovers.”
Amari guides Nikita’s hand to me. “Take her to the water. One dip in that cold ocean and the earth will heal her like this.” She clicks her fingers for emphasis.
I take Nikita’s hand in mine as she shakes her head, “No, no, that’s alright. I just need some air.”
Amari disagrees, shaking her head, “Get yourself some water - cold water - to drink. That should help. Grab a couple of glass bottles from that table.” She points to the wooden table by the blowing curtain of the tent before turning to the rest of the group. “If anyone needs a bottle, please feel free to come and get some. We can’t have anyone fainting, alright?”
People move to grab themselves a bottle - Kenneth and Violet included.
“Ooh! Can’t handle the heat!” Paul’s voice booms through the tent, a couple of people laughing at his comment making me question their sense of humor. Violet returns to their table and nudges him, saying something to him that I can’t hear from where I am.
I ignore any further comments that come our way. “Come with me, love.” I rest my hand on the small of Nikita’s back, the pulsing desire in my veins still replaying the sound of how much she enjoyed my touch. The fact that she is physically affected by me is fueling both my amusement and my desire. Something about her like this turned me on - my dick can barely take it anymore.
“Take a moment, but please rejoin us,” Amari says.
“Of course,” Nikita replies, but I know damn well that there is no way she’s coming back here.
I lead her outside the tent, a more fierce fresh ocean breeze surrounding us as we step outside. Nikita breaks away from my touch, making sure she puts some distance between us as she glares at me.
“I am not going back in there,” she mutters as she pulls her dress over her body, tying it in place around her neck.
“No? I thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“I was not.”
“I think that ‘oh god’ suggests otherwise.”
“You must have misunderstood the context of it.” Her eyes narrow as she continues her glare. “That was a ‘oh god, please get this man’s hands off of me.’.”
I chuckle not buying a single word, “Lying is a sin.”
I use her own phrase against her, which has her jaw tightening as she huffs and storms across the sand in the direction of the hotel. No one is capable of walking across beach sand with grace and it’s even more amusing to watch as she dips into it with each step.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere, but here.”
She is just as affected as I am and I don’t blame her for the distance she is putting between us. The tightening pressure in my shorts is begging me to go after her and finish what we started, but the logical part of me - the part of my brain that reminds me that this is nothing but a pretense, sends a douse of metaphorical cold water over me.
I’m left aroused and unfulfilled. Shaking my head, I move towards the ocean.