“You have homework?”
“Yeah,” she said, “but I don’t really wanna do it.”
“Me either. I feel like reading instead.”
She nodded.
“My book’s upstairs. Want me to get yours while I’m up there?”
“Sure. It’s on my nightstand.”
I returned a minute later. She was sitting on the couch with her legs tucked under her. She held her wineglass loose in one hand and stared pensively at something only she could see. Her other hand was at her mouth, where she unconsciously sucked the tip of her thumb.
I watched her for a moment and felt a rush of pure longing. She seemed so small and fragile that I wanted to hold her and never let her go.
She looked up and saw me. Her expression went from cloudy to bright to cloudy again. “What?”
“Nothing. Just… you look really pretty.”
She blushed and studied her wineglass. “Thank you.”
I sat on the end of the couch and gestured for her to join me. She scooted closer, and I held out her book,
“What’s it about?” I asked. “Any good?”
“It’s a spy novel. Israeli agents, Palestinian terrorists, an English actress.
It’s fun.”
“You’ll get along just fine with my mom,” I said with a chuckle. “She loves John le Carré. And Ian Fleming, Ken Follett, Robert Ludlum, all those guys.”
Christy smiled and then nodded at my book. “What’re you reading?”
“
“Prometheus. Cool. He gave fire to mankind, right? I like that story. Will you read some to me?”
“Um… sure.”
Her smile lit up. She set her book on the floor and stretched out beside me. Then she rested her head on my leg and looked up at me with innocent blue eyes (that weren’t so innocent, I reminded myself).
“Comfy?” I teased.
“Yes, thank you.”
I opened the book and began reading. Then, ever so casually, I moved my left hand to her stomach.
She sighed instead of pushing me away, so I began rubbing gently. She closed her eyes.
I finished the page and turned to the next with one hand. I reached the end of a scene about ten minutes later.
“I love listening to you,” she said softly. “You take your time and don’t rush.”
She must’ve been thinking the same. Her breathing grew a bit quicker, and her nipples showed through her bra and sweater. I edged my hand toward them. Her eyes snapped open.
I smiled calmly and slid my fingers between her flattened breasts. I found her bra catch through her sweater. She still didn’t move or speak. I pinched the clasp and popped it apart. Her eyes widened at how easily I’d done it, but that was all.
“Take it off,” I said quietly. It wasn’t a request.
She sat up immediately but then stopped. “You too.”
“Me too what?”
“Your underwear.”
My eyebrows rose. “Okay,” I said at last. “But your panties too. All of it.
Off.”
She nodded jerkily. Then her eyes darted around the room.
“Trip’s office.”
She nodded and left the room.
I stood as soon as I heard the door close. Then I untied my shorts and shucked them and my boxers in one motion. My erection bobbed gently as I pulled the shorts back on. I sat down again and did my best to make my trapped hard-on look presentable.
Christy returned after a minute. She set her bra and panties on the chair. I smiled when I saw them. They were cobalt blue, a matching set, satin with lace trim.
I patted the couch next to me. Her eyes immediately went from my hand to the outline of my cock. She picked up her wineglass and drained it. Then she lay down and rested her head on my leg again.
I smiled and caressed her face, and she closed her eyes to savor the touch.
After a moment I returned my hand to her stomach and began moving my fingers. I picked up my book and started reading again.
Christy crossed her ankles and squeezed her thighs together. She was trying to be discreet, but I saw out of the corner of my eye.
I kept on reading, and my fingers moved in slow, ever-widening circles that eventually reached her breast. I squeezed the firm flesh through her sweater. She let out a sigh that turned into a moan when I circled her sensitive areola. The cashmere was so thin and her nipple so hard that I could feel the contours of it.
She re-crossed her legs and began rubbing her thighs together unobtrusively. I watched in my peripheral vision and wondered if she could get off that way. I decided to help, so I teased her nipple. She did her best but sighed in exasperation after fifteen minutes of fruitless pleasure.
“Sit up,” I said. “Kneel here, next to me.”
She moved into place, and her leg felt warm and soft next to mine.
“Give me your left hand.” I placed it on my erection, and her fingers closed automatically. “Good?”
She nodded silently. Her nipples rose and fell with her aroused breathing.
I kissed her, long and lingering, and tweaked her nipple as we separated.
