Page 42 of Lethal Seduction

“You’re a quick learner,” he says. “I can tell.”

She giggles and jumps in place.

“I’d better get the class started,” Michael says. “If you would please excuse me.”

“Of course,” I say.

Michael walks to the center of the room. “Can I have your attention please? My name’s Michael Borne, and I’m here to show you how to protect yourself in the event you are attacked.” He indicates a large circle around the room. “Please everyone, have a seat.”

Tina and I hurry over to the side where he is facing and sit down. Looming in front of me is the gray sweatpants, dick print. My mouth waters and my heart pounds. I know he’s giving us instructions, but I can’t hear a single thing he’s saying.

I’ve become dickmatized.

18

MICHAEL

The self-defense class goes off without a hitch. I'm impressed at how seriously everyone takes it, especially Devon. He doesn’t look like much, but he sure can cling on to an attacker if he needs to. I shake my head and laugh—he’s like a spider monkey, every time I pull his hand free from one arm, he has reattached himself with the other.

The club graciously lets me use their facilities to clean up afterwards—there isn’t a stitch of clothes that isn’t soaked with sweat. I strip down, put my clean clothes in a locker, and head into the showers. Damn, these facilities are awesome. Multiple shower stalls, each equipped with a bench, detachable shower head, and all the shampoo and shower gel a guy could ask for.

After turning on the water, I hang my towel up on a hook inside the stall and pull the shower curtain closed. Well, as closed as it will go. Whoever ordered these didn’t measure beforehand. There's a ten-inch gap on either side which doesn’t offer much privacy.

Oh well, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else in here anyway. I'm mid-lather when I hear the shower room door open. I squint and try to look through the suds to see who has come inside, butI'm not having any luck. Whoever it is begins to whistle, but not in a fun way. The creepy tone and cadence of the notes send an unexpected shiver up my spine.

As fast as I can, I hold my head under the water and rinse my hair so I can see. The creeper is moving closer, but then suddenly the whistling stops. The sound of the little metal fasteners holding the shower curtain in place clink, and I jump. Balling my hands into fists, I turn to face whoever has entered my personal space, but no one is there. The curtain has definitely been moved, but whoever moved it is gone.

Stepping out of the shower, I move slowly down the length of stalls, checking to see if I'm still alone. By the time I reach the end and turn to head toward the door, it swings open. Devon steps into the room and stops, looking at my naked, wet body. The twinkle in his eye makes me look back at my stall, wishing I’d brought my towel with me.

“Can I get you anything, coach?” Devon asks. He licks his lips and smiles. “I’d be happy to help you with whatever you need.”

Without a word, I rush back to grab my towel, wrap it around my waist, and sigh with relief. “I’m good, Devon.”

“Don’t I know it?” He swishes his booty toward me like a supermodel on a runway. “You sure are good.”

“If you don’t mind, I need to finish my shower,” I motion toward the door with my chin. “If you’re not here to shower yourself… in your own stall, I’d appreciate some privacy.” As the last few words come out of my mouth, Patrick walks in wearing nothing but a towel.

He stops, clearly shocked to see me standing there with Devon.

“Suit yourself,” Devon says with an attitude. He twirls on his heel and marches toward the door. He stops as he reaches Patrick and says to him, “He wants his privacy. What does that even mean?” And then walks out.

Patrick starts to laugh. “Did he try to rub his ass against you like a cat in heat?”

I wipe my forehead dry and nod. “He’s something else, huh?”

“If you want your privacy, I can wait out there until you’re done,” Patrick says.

The way the towel hangs loose around his waist, the way his abs become visible with each breath, I'm glad the towel is secured around my waist. “Nah, I don’t mind you being in here.”

Patrick wags his eyebrows, but it seems more involuntary and less lecherous. He follows me to the back of the room where my stall is and goes into the one next to mine. We both pull our ill-fitting curtains closed and turn on the water. Soon the steam begins billowing up over the walls and filling the entire room. We haven’t spoken a word to each other since turning on the water, and I'm starting to feel the need to speak.

I'm done washing, but I'm not ready to turn off the water. The more I think about Patrick, naked, wet, touching himself in the shower next to me, the harder my dick grows. Reaching for the shower gel, I lube up my cock and stroke it a couple of times and nearly come. My stomach muscles tighten, and I straighten my legs, locking my knees. I hold my cock tight at the end until the surge of cum stops and I feel I can move without blowing my load.

“It was great to see you today, Patrick.” My voice sounds strange to me, my throat tight with sexual need.

“Thank you so much for showing us how to subdue our attackers,” Patrick says. “I wish I’d had a little more one-on-one time with you… if I’m being honest.”

My cock hardens once again, and my balls tingle with the beginning of the surge. “Are you busy tonight? I’d be happy to give you some more time… show you a few other kinds of moves.”

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