Henry watched as his roommate got up and began pacing back and forth between the two twin beds. Dean had supposedly been meeting with a calculus “study group” twice a week, although Henry figured it had to be a cover for something. A new girlfriend maybe. He wasn’t sure.
“I know. I know!” Dean turned away from him, walking toward the window. “I said I would.”
Henry took the opportunity to slide the box out from under the bed. The Fleshlight was there, ready and waiting and always willing. His cock jumped at the sight of it. After tonight’s marathon tease, which he still couldn’t quite believe had been real, he was going to make good use of it. Dean was still talking in hushed tones by the window.
“I’m gonna take a shower.” Henry headed for the bathroom, but Dean didn’t even hear him. He was too involved on the phone.
Henry stood under the pounding hot needling spray, working his cock slowly into the silky, ribbed flesh of the silicone cunt in his hand, and tried to think of Libby. He always thought of Libby. He’d even stopped fantasizing about Val. They talked on the phone all the time and she was becoming too good of a friend for him to consider her that way anymore. Instead, it was Libby he always imagined in his mind’s eye at times like this. Thinking of anyone else felt wrong.
But tonight he didn’t. He couldn’t get Toni out of his mind. She had eclipsed everything else-he could still taste her on his lips, feel her long fingernails scratching against his cock, see the sweet bare silk of her thigh.
He wanted her. He’d never wanted anything or anyone more-even Libby, he realized guiltily. His brain wanted to debate, argue with him, back and forth, but his cock didn’t lie. The more he thought of Toni, the harder he got. It was Toni he was fucking, the hot swell of her ass he was grabbing, her breasts he was pressing his face in between.
“Oh!” he cried, balancing the edge of the Fleshlight against the soap tray, leaning his hand on it to steady it. He imagined her there with him, bent over in the shower, her dark hair thick and wet and curling against her bare back. He saw her reaching behind, spreading herself for him, giving him her pussy, the red length of her nails digging into her own skin as he fucked her. He couldn’t get the thought out of his head and had reached the point where he didn’t even want to try.
He gave himself into it, thrusting deep, the ridged core of the silicone pussy urging him on, the memory of her flesh too compelling for him to stop. Henry let himself go, taking her in his mind, something he had refused to allow before, crossing a line he had drawn for himself even in fantasy, and at the final moment of his climax, he collapsed, still thrusting into Toni’s hot flesh and helplessly calling out her name again and again.
Chapter Seven
“Henry, you’re not concentrating.”
“Yes I am,” he lied. They were in her office, trying to work, but he was studying her skin, the pale expanse of it at her throat, where her pulse beat as fast as a bird’s. She wasn’t concentrating either.
She nudged him. “On the word.”
“Oh.” He glanced down at the page, scanning. He’d lost his place three times in the past three minutes, and he’d just lost it again.
“Henry,” she whispered, nudging him once more. “Do we have to make this any harder than it already is?”
He ignored her unintended pun, but his cock didn’t. Just sitting next to her, feeling the shift of her body, hearing the sound of her breath, made him want her. It was crazy. It was wrong. But he couldn’t help it.
“This is where you were stuck.” She put an index card over the page, covering the line above it, using her fingernail to point out the word. Just remembering the way she’d raked them over his crotch made him breathless.
“World,” he said.
She tucked her hair behind her ear as she leaned toward the page. “Does that make sense in context?”
“No.”
“Stand up.”
Henry reluctantly got out of his chair. He had an erection that just wouldn’t quit and he was putting it on her eye level. She was sure to see it. When he glanced down at her, he was sure she had, indeed, seen. Her face was flushed, her gaze moving from his zipper over to the page.
“Okay, now look again,” she breathed, tapping the word with her fingernail. She often instructed him to do strange things like this-standing up, turning around. She said it was to jar his brain. It usually worked.
“Wuh…” It wasn’t happening. He couldn’t concentrate on anything but the hot bulge between his legs, and this vantage point only made it worse. Toni was wearing a button-down blouse and he could actually see the black lace edge of her bra from this angle.
“Okay, here.” Reaching behind her, she took down a white tray and a plastic container, putting them on the desk. She opened the container, spilling thousands of small, black grain-size particles into the sand-tray. “Write it out.”
He did as she asked, spelling the word in the black sand with his finger:
W-O-U-L-D
“Would.” He pronounced it correctly this time, effortlessly, as if he had always known it and hadn’t been stuck at all. It was like that a lot. Of course, he knew what the word meant, but as he said it, he heard the phonetic version and shifted from foot to foot.
God knows, I’ve got plenty of wood.
“Yes.” Toni was pleased and he loved pleasing her. There was something about it that made him want to wriggle around on the floor like a little puppy. “Go on.”
Henry sat, pondering the page, determined to concentrate. If his dick would just cooperate, everything would be fine…
“He would give them…huh…” Henry stopped, stuck again. He hated when his brain refused to work. His body insisted on doing what it wanted, out of his control. “I can’t do this today.”
“Yes you can.” She was admirably patient, shaking the sand tray gently free of the word would. “Try writing this one out.”
He did as she asked, but it meant nothing to him.
H-E-L–L
“Hole.” Now there was an image. If he could just get his mind off the subject…
“You’re guessing.” She sat back, crossing her legs, and it distracted him even further. “Stand up,” she commanded, and he did, seeing her gaze shift up from eye-level. He was still noticeably hard. “Write it in the air.”
His finger made the motions. H-E-L–L. She waited, expectant, but he had nothing.
“I think I’ve got too much blood being diverted from my brain,” he joked.
She stood, smiling. “Turn around.”
Henry gave her his back, sensing her behind him, the sway of her hips as she approached. He felt one of her hands resting on the side of his hip, her breath against the back of his neck. She might have devised this to help his word issue, but it wasn’t helping his other problem, not at all.
“Okay, let’s try this.” Her words were soft and he couldn’t help but believe that she was just as excited by their proximity as he was.
Using her fingernail, she traced the words in large letters across the hard planes of his back through his t-shirt. He shivered.
“Anything?” she murmured.
He made a noise, a denial, shaking his head. He got the message all right, but it traveled in the wrong direction, straight down to his cock. Nothing was making sense except sensation.
“You do it, then.” Toni turned around, putting her hands on the desk surface, slightly bent over, and he thought he would pass out at the sight of her like that. His head swam and his vision blurred. “Go ahead,” she urged, glancing back over her shoulder. “Do it.”
Do it.
He wanted to do it. He couldn’t even verbalize just how much he wanted it. Approaching her, he kept some distance, a foot maybe, between them, but her body radiated heat, the outline of her luscious perfection. He wanted to bend her over completely, shape himself around her, mold her into something he could put into his pocket and carry around with him everywhere.