Page 88 of Candygrams

“No, you’re not. What is going on, Rip? What’s wrong?”

I don’t say a word but sit up and think about making a run for it, hope I reach the bathroom before I blow my load like a fucking teenager.

“Do you need help? Please tell me, Rip. I want to help you.” I groan at her choice of words. “You’re scaring the shit out of me, Rip.”

If she says my name one more time. “I’m hard, baby, okay. I got hard thinking about…”

I cup my hand and look down at where her shirt stretches across her breasts.

“Me?! My boobs?”

It’s kind of hard not to know since I haven’t taken my eyes off them and my hand is still out in a cup position like I might be waiting on her to put her fucking tit in my hand. I groan when the word boob pops out of her mouth.

“Can we just not say that word and pretend this didn't happen.”

I start to stand but she takes my wrist in both of hers and holds me right where I am.

“Why?”

“Why do I want to pretend this conversation never happened?”

“No, uh, why do my boobs make you…hard, or thinking about my boobs, I guess?” She looks down at herself before continuing to try to kill me. “Pretty sure they’re not doing anything for you in this sweater.”

“Taffy, sweetheart, if you don’t stop saying the word boobs and looking at your tits I’m going to tackle you and spank that pert little ass.”

Instead of being shocked her eyes meet mine and there’s a mischievous little glint there.

“I’m pretty sure saying the word…”

“Ahhh!” I interrupt her.

“Breasts. Tits. Fun bags.”

I tackle her to the floor and roll her over on her stomach. I get two hits in before she is yelping and wiggling around so much I’m about to lose all my civilized upbringing and rip her shirt off and put more than my hands on her tits.

We stare at one another for a long time before she bites down on her lip and leans closer to whisper to me, “Can I…touch it?”

“What?” I was so focused on fighting back the urge to bury my face in her lush curves I didn’t catch her looking at where my jeans are tented by my hard cock.

“Never mind! Can we get back to…?”

“No, no, no! You just asked to touch my cock, didn’t you, baby? Tell the truth. No lying.”

“It was…a moment of stupidity on my part and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked something like that or made you feel uncomfortable…”

“Tandy,” the way I say it has her stopping midsentence, “do you want to see my hard cock? No one has to know. It’s just me and you.”

And I, for one, desperately want her hands on me.

Chapter Twelve

Tandy

“I…no, that would be…pushing our boundaries and…so wrong. Isn’t it?”

He answers me by dropping his hands to his belt and then the button and zipper of his jeans. He’s in his boxers when he sits back down.

“Come here.”

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