His finger slid upward through my pliant wet folds, and found my tight clit, slipping slickly over the swollen little nub. I tried, but I couldn’t control my reaction. My body involuntarily jerked from the sensation, a spasm rippling through me.
His touch was instantly gone, and my panties slid back to cover me. No! Please! I focused on keeping my breathing regular, wanting him to think that was just an involuntary reaction, and I wasn’t awake.
Seconds passed like hours, and I could feel my pussy almost reaching out for him, trying to lure his fingers back. But after a moment I heard his body shift, and felt his breath against my ear.
“I love you, Erica,” he whispered so softly I could barely hear him, even in the silence of the room. He kissed me gently on the temple before straightening up.
Come back here! My mind screamed as he walked to the door. Please don’t leave me like this!
But his shadow crossed through the light, and the door opened and closed again, and he was gone.
Synapses fired through my body like firecrackers in a Chinese parade. Every nerve ending craved the return of his touch on me. But the door remained ajar. He wasn’t coming back.
Sighing, my hand slid down between my legs, and my finger finished what Shane had begun.
Chapter 14
When I awoke, it was nine a.m. and the sun was shining in through my bedroom windows. I didn’t recall my middle-of-the-night experience until I was on the toilet peeing and I looked down at the crotch of my panties. My dried fluids coated the inside, and the memories of Shane’s visit came rushing back. Had I dreamed it? I didn’t think so, but how could I be sure? I had been thinking about him a lot lately, and I had spent the minutes before going to bed in his embrace, so it would make sense that I would dream about him.
I shook my head, trying to clear my mind, but as much as I thought about it, I couldn’t be sure if it had been real.
When I got downstairs, I was surprised to see Shane sleeping on the couch. It was rare for him to do it, and it usually happened when he was working late in his office. I wondered if him seeing me getting fucked on his bed, made him want to stay away from it.
He was lying on his side, facing out, with a light blanket over him. I sat in the opposite chair, watching him for several minutes. It occurred to me that our positions were reversed: I was now watching him sleep. Memories of his touch on me returned — or at least memories of my dream of him touching me — and I felt the desire rising in me again.
An idea occurred to me. I walked over and knelt on the floor next to him. In my mind, I pictured him touching me, recalling his position. Left hand, I decided.
I moved the covers back slightly, and saw his left hand was lying on the couch cushion, slightly closed in a relaxed grip. I slid my hand under it, watching for a reaction. When none came, I bent my head down and took his index finger into my mouth, sucking at it softly. It tasted good, but not what I was looking for. I moved to the middle finger.
As I sucked, the taste washed over me, firing through my nerve endings. It was the same taste I had tasted on Joey’s finger last night, after he touched me in the changing room. The taste of my pussy was on Shane’s finger.
A new gush of wetness spread through me as I sucked at his digit, wanting to lick it clean. After I was done, I slid it out of my mouth and laid the hand back down on the cushion.
I stared into his sleeping face. He was so beautiful. So manly and rugged. Exactly what I was looking for in every guy I dated. I never got to be this near to him without him knowing it, so I couldn’t look at him this closely — with the adoration I felt for him all over my face. Normally that was hidden behind the mask I had to wear.
His breathing was deep and regular, and a calm expression covered his face. At that moment, a feeling of empathy came over me, as I thought about what he was going through. Like me, he was lusting after someone he couldn’t have, except he had the additional burden of having to be the responsible one. I realized I was waiting for him to do something that was impossible for him: to make the first move. If I wanted something to happen, it would be up to me.
I reached out to caress the side of his face, but stopped myself at the last moment, my hand hovering just above his skin.
Instead, I leaned in and lightly touched my lips upon his, imagining what it would be like for him to respond, opening his mouth and letting my tongue inside.
His breathing remained steady, and I pulled back, watching him again. I recalled what his touch felt like last night, and my body quivered. An idea popped into my head.
If he could touch me, why couldn’t I return the favor? My heart raced as I considered my options. I lifted the cover to take a peek, and saw he was shirtless and wearing his favorite gym shorts — thin gray cotton that fit him loosely. I could just make out the outline of his flaccid cock through the material.
Letting the blanket back down, I slid my hand underneath, moving down over the cushion. I overshot and ran into his naked thigh, and I watched his face closely as I lightly followed the skin upward.
Reaching the hem of his shorts, my hand moved up onto the cloth, and I was there, cupping him gently through the thin cotton. His cock felt warm in my hand, and I felt it shift slightly as it began to respond to my touch.
I had always wondered if a guy would get hard from being touched while sleeping, and I was getting my answer. His breathing never changed, but his dick came alive, swelling and lengthening inside the confines of his shorts.
My hand slid softly up and down his length, caressing him. At the head, I let my thumb slip around it, tracing along the ridge. At the bottom, my hand hefted his balls, feeling them slide loosely around in his sack.
Taking a deep breath, I moved my hand to his waistband and slid my fingers under it. I finally got to feel the skin of Shane’s cock against my hand. It was warm, and I felt the hardening stiffness underneath. I slid over it, loving the feel of how it responded to my touch, arching up rigidly, as if begging for more.
I curled my fingers around the shaft, and it felt huge in my grip. Bigger than Joey’s, and yes, even bigger than Tony’s. My thumb rolled over the sensitive spot below the tip, and the shaft jerked softly in my hand, obviously enjoying the sensation.
Shane’s breathing stopped, and he kinda snorted and coughed. I released him and pulled my hand out of his pants, making sure to let the elastic waistband down gently. I readjusted the blanket covering him and sat back.
He slowly came awake, his eyes fluttering open. When he saw me sitting so close, a look of concern came over him.
“Erica? What’s wrong?”
I gave him my best sad eyes. “I had a bad dream.”
He sat up, keeping the blanket over his lap. “A dream about what?”
I shrugged. “I can’t remember. It was just bad and I woke up scared.”
He held out his arm to his side. “Come up here.”
I moved up on the couch, and he pulled me in. I was pressed against his side as I laid my head against his shoulder.
“You can’t remember it?” he asked.
“Just vaguely.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know. In the dream I was younger, and it was like there was someone in my room.” His body tensed.
“And then,” I continued, “you came in and chased him away. But I was still scared so you held me.” His body relaxed again.
“It was only a dream, honey.”
“But I was so scared. Thank you for coming and saving me.”
He grinned. “I do my best.”
“Remember how you used to hold me when I was younger?
He gave me a puzzled look. “How?”
“When we used to watch tv together and I would fall asleep on top of you?”