Page 7 of Jason

“Don’t worry about it,” she said casually like it wasn’t a big deal. Even though I damn well knew it was, my dick was a big deal. Not looking away for a second from my legs, she switched to my right leg as if nothing happened and started talking. “It’s the body’s normal reaction to this.” She looked up at me and, swallowing hard, she finished on a whisper, “It’s because of the increased blood flow.”

Once, just once, I would’ve liked to see I wasn’t the only one who was affected.

“I hate you. You know that, right?” I could feel the muscle jumping in my cheek and was actually afraid I would grind my teeth to dust.

“You do now, but you’re going to love me in the end.”

The infuriating woman winked at me again and went right back to work, leaving me with nothing to say. I was too afraid she was right.

*~*~*

“Fuck,” I hissed as the first spray of freezing water landed on my aching cock.

Rory left two hours ago, and no matter what I did, I could not get the fucker to play nice and accept that it wouldn’t get what it wanted. I knew I could just take myself in my hand and give in to fantasies of Rory riding my dick, her B-cup tits jumping up and down in front of my face, but that play was dangerous. Without a shred of doubt, I knew that if I gave in and went down that road, it was only a matter of days that I'd have to have her. Pushing my palms against the black tiles of the shower, I took a step back and away from the cold spray so my dick wouldn’t freeze and fall off. Leaving my palms firmly on the ceramic, I leaned forward, hoping the cold blast on my head would help me cool down. Maybe if my brain got shot with cold water enough, I would be able to get a full night’s sleep without the little pain in my ass coming to visit my dreams. Making this need that coursed through me pulse with every heartbeat, growing stronger and bringing me to the brink of insanity.

Fuck, but just thinking about those dreams, I couldn’t help but wonder how responsive she would be. How her perfect-sized tits would feel in my palms. They weren’t too big or too small. No, Rory’s were just the size I liked, and I knew I could take her whole tit in my mouth. Would her nipples be small or big, light or dark pink? How would they taste in my mouth as I bit on the soft flesh lightly, then suckled them enough to relieve the pain? Would her pussy weep for me to take her? How tight would she be? Would she scream my name when she came? Would she scratch my back with those short nails of hers as I plunged into her? Damnit, but just thinking of it made my saliva pour into my mouth and my vision became blurry.

“Fuck,” I hissed when I realized that in my musings about the intolerable woman, my hand started slowly going up and down my dick.

I should’ve stopped right then. I should’ve taken an ice bath and chased away all the images of Rory swimming in my head. But fuck me, just the thought of her short, strong legs wrapped around my waist made my cock weep with precum.

“Fucking hell,” I growled as I watched my hand gliding up and down faster, squeezing the head of my dick.

Images of Rory moaning in my ear, her body squirming under me, and screaming my name after I gave her the best orgasm of her life, had me gasping for air as my balls drew up, the pain in my now ever harder dick becoming almost unbearable.

“Rory,” I hissed, and watched as shot after hot shot flew from my stubborn dick and landed on my tiles, the stark contrast of my white cum and the black tiles mocking me.

The last image that shot through my head was me decorating Rory's stomach in my cum, all while she was the one giving me a handjob.

Christ, did I just fantasize about a hand job?

I did

Now I knew deep inside I was well and truly fucked.

“Don’t do it, you jackass,” I said to myself as I stepped out of the shower and reached for the towel to dry off before I went to do what just became an absolute no moments ago.

As I shut off the light in the bathroom, going into my bedroom and pulling up jeans, I shook my head and almost barked, “Do not fucking do it.”

The whole time, as I went out of my house, right to my car, and before I came to her door, I was giving myself every chance to turn around and try to forget what happened in my bathroom, but I knew there was no coming back from it. I wanted her as much as I wanted to go back to playing football. I needed her as much as I needed the rush of a touchdown from one of my passes. My heart beat faster, giving me life, giving me purpose when I was near her just as much as the roar from the crowded stadium did.

No, there was no going back.

Because Rory Ryan was mine.

It’s just a matter of convincing her, I thought, still shaking my head at my own stupidity of ever thinking the opposite when the blood in my body turned cold.

“Stop it, you fucking bastards!” the high-pitched sound of my woman screaming in terror behind the door.

Chapter Five

Rory

“Stop it, you fucking bastards!” I shrieked, foolishly thinking it was going to stop the idiots who were tearing my beautiful apartment apart, trying to find out Jason's identity.

I should have known better. Any other time, if I even raised my voice, they would come and one of them would pat my body down, looking for injuries, while the others would be trying to find the threat so they could demolish it.

But not now.