Telling Tales. Charlotte SteinЧитать онлайн книгу.
the door to her adjoining bathroom and slipped inside.
‘However, this action presented a slight problem. Once in there, he had the urge to shut the door tight and lock it – maybe he could tell her he’d desperately needed to go, or something like it – but by the time he’d thought of it, he realised two things. One – an excuse like that wasn’t going to fly. And two – he couldn’t safely shut the door right to without her hearing and knowing he’d gone in there only a moment before she arrived home.
‘It just wasn’t watertight. Which was how he found himself in her bathroom, staring at her through a crack in the door, willing her to leave before anything worse happened.’
I don’t want anything worse to happen. Kitty has a hand inside her blouse – I know she does, without even looking down. But I don’t blame her because my own nipples feel like two great big glaring points, sticking right through my jersey for everyone to see. I wish I’d worn a thicker bra, but really, who could have predicted this?
Does he somehow psychically know I’m this horny? Can anyone else feel it, vibrating off me in waves? I’m sure I can sense some kind of strange heat emanating from Cameron, but maybe that’s just because he’s so massive and I’m so turned on.
God, I’m this turned on before he’s even gotten to the good stuff.
‘It was almost a slap in the face when she stripped out of her clothes before doing anything else. Of course he tried to look away, but it was useless. Here was the object of his lust in just her bra and panties, and both items barely hid a thing.
‘When she turned he could see the groove between the rounded, glorious cheeks of her ass, just visible beneath her plain white of her underwear. His mind went automatically to the most lurid thing he could imagine – stroking a finger over that shadowed crease, or even filthier – sticking his tongue there and licking and licking until she begged him not to stop.
‘And then she turned around, and that warm pulse of arousal he’d felt while stroking her silky things over his body became a sharp kick. A warning – if he didn’t do something soon, he was going to spurt in his jeans just like that.
‘She looked more amazing than he’d ever imagined. He could see it now – the clothes she wore were too shapeless. They hid the full, perfect curve of her hips and the neat way they nipped in at her waist. The slight swell of her belly looked smooth and warm and infinitely caress-able, and though her legs didn’t have a lot of length, there was something about them – something sweet and inviting.
‘She’d barely be able to get those things around his big body, and the thought was exciting. As though she was both solid and real, easily grope-able and always promising a soft sensuality, but also small and quite fragile.
‘The contrast made him want to groan, and he put a fist to his lips. She’d started taking off her bra and any moment he was going to get to see her breasts – the object of many of his fantasies. He’d often imagined covering her in something slick, then easing his swollen cock between those two soft mounds, but the image was so much clearer, here. It was so close he could almost taste it, but he resisted.
‘He didn’t move, or make a sound. Not even when she suddenly slipped a hand beneath the material of her panties, and rubbed slowly over her almost visible pussy.’
He looks up from the story, then, but I can’t look back. Mainly because I’ve covered my face with my hands and am only watching through the cracks between my fingers. Of course, I still know he’s grinning. He’s grinning underneath his stupid designer stubble and, when he continues, he sticks his tongue, lewdly, into the hollow cup of his cheek.
Then Cameron interrupts in a suddenly heated tone, and I don’t know what to think anymore. I’m starting to lose my ability to make sense of things.
‘Maybe you should tell a different story, Wade,’ he says, almost like a warning, but Wade just kind of winks at him and carries right on.
‘She was wet. He could tell she was, because even from all the way over in the bathroom, he could hear the slick sounds her fingers made as they parted things he wanted to part, and did things he wanted to do. The urge to open the door and just go to her went through him, but he held it in check. She’d never forgive him, if he revealed himself now.
‘Not now that she’d spread herself out over her bed, fingers busy beneath the thin material, free hand on one plump, gorgeous breast. From this vantage point, he had a complete view of the place between her spread legs, and when she frigged herself a little more vigorously or slid two fingers inside her tight pussy, the strip of material covering her mound slid to one side to reveal little tantalising glimpses.
‘He couldn’t help sliding a hand over the pulsing ridge of his erection. At first he went with something small and unassuming – the heel of his palm pressing down hard and almost cruelly. But once she started moaning and squirming on the bed, those little glimpses of glistening flesh getting clearer and clearer, he couldn’t stop himself.
‘He’d never particularly thought of himself as a sexual person – he rarely felt anything above a mild arousal and masturbation wasn’t top of his list of fun things to do – but the heat coursing through his body was undeniable, irresistible. It was as though a strange force had gripped him, and was inciting him to slide a hand inside his jeans and stroke over his stiff and swollen cock.’
I swear to God, I jump right out of my skin when Cameron interrupts this time. Even Kitty jolts a little, in the middle of doing whatever it is she’s doing – that’s how loud he suddenly is.
‘I really think you should stop now, Wade,’ he says. But Wade doesn’t.
‘It took only the slightest touch – just his thumb on the slippery tip – to bring him off. He felt it like an avalanche, like something breaking inside him, uncheckable pleasure jerking upward from his straining cock to some place low and deep in his gut. Great spurts of come covered the insubstantial cup of his hand and then flowed messily outward, to stain the inside of his jeans. He could feel his body straining, strung too taut, while all of her cries of pleasure echoed every sound he wanted to make.
‘It was only afterward he realised these sounds had made him bite down hard enough to draw blood, on his still-clenched fist.’
He puts the pages aside, but nobody says anything. It’s as though he hasn’t finished, as though there has to be more, despite the buzz of relief that seems to be going through all of us, to have heard it come to an end.
And yet when Kitty sits up quite suddenly – blouse partially unbuttoned and blonde hair a mussy halo around her head – and says: ‘So did she catch him?’
I’m echoing the sentiment inside. It’s the first thing I want to know, and it feels weird to understand that this is the only time I’ve ever been so desperate to get to the end of something Wade has written. As though all of his other stories somehow pale in comparison to this – whatever this is.
‘Tune in next week to find out,’ he says, though I’m sure he’s lying. There are no more words left on the page. He’s drained them all dry and left us wanting more, even though I’m clenching my nails into my palms with the weird awkwardness of all of this and Cameron is bristling to the right of me, somewhere.
I glance at him and he looks…I don’t even know what he looks like. Pissed on Cameron isn’t the same as pissed on anyone else. He doesn’t frown or grind his teeth, though I can see he’s pulled his lower lip right into his mouth in this mean sort of way. And I think his cheeks are a little flushed, even though that seems impossible.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blush – so I guess that’s it. He must be embarrassed, in some fashion. I’ve never heard him talk about sex frankly, and he certainly doesn’t seem to want to talk about it now. In fact, before Kitty’s even done pressing Wade for more, Cam has gotten up out of his seat and left the room entirely.
And I can’t help glancing after him, as he goes.