Page 37 of Three Not-So-Little Words
“You’re not so bad yourself. I like all of the tattoos.”
“Speaking of tattoos,” he spins me around and looks down at my small bit of ink. “You have a cute little one yourself.”
“Eh, I was drunk.”
He laughs. “It happens.”
He leans down to kiss me for a few moments before grabbing a bottle of my soap. Squeezing some into his hands, he spends time running his hands over every inch of my body. I don’t think it’s meant to be overtly sexual, but it’s turning me on all the same.
I’ve never been a huge fan of shower sex. Have I done it? Sure. But it always seems like more of a hassle than it’s worth. It’s uncomfortable, slippery, and awkward.
That being said,fooling aroundin the shower can be fun. I reach over to grab a handful of the same soap and start rubbing it all over him. When I get to his cock, I stop, making sure to take my time. My fingers wrap around his half-hard member and slowly stroke it. I feel it instantly start to thicken.
“Ronnie.” His tone warns that I’m playing with fire.
Good thing I don’t mind getting hot.
Before I know it, he has me flipped around. From behind, he has one hand on my tits and the other between my legs. The moment he starts rubbing my clit, my legs turn to jelly. It takes everything in me to stay vertical, but I manage.
Just as he finds the perfect spot, and I start to feel hints of my orgasm looming on the horizon, the doorbell rings.
“Son of a bitch,” I spit. “An hour my ass.”
Quickly, I get out of the shower and head for the front door.
When I open it in nothing more than a towel, the pimply-faced teenager’s jaw drops. I hand him more than enough cash and take the box.
He asks, “Do you need help getting that into the house? Or help with…anything?”
“Nice try, kid. Your porno fantasies aren’t coming true today.”
With that, I shut the door.
Drew meets me in the kitchen, wearing a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Everything okay?” He asks.
“Yeah. The pizza boy got excited that maybe he’d be delivering more than a pizza.”
As we get settled, each with a slice in front of us, I ask, “So, did you grow up in Florida?”
“Well, I’m originally from Illinois, but I lived in Miami for about the past ten years.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ve done quite a bit of work in Miami,” I say, leaving out the part about me having a fuck buddy down there whenever I would visit.
Something suddenly occurs to me. “Wait a second. Were you on the fighting circuit with Jack?”
He almost looks embarrassed. “Uh, yeah.”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t actually recognize you. I mean, if that’s the reason you came up here to live. I know Jack used to fight, and you guys were friends. I just took an educated guess.”
“Oh, no. It's not a big deal. I know Jack wanted anonymity, but that isn’t an issue to me. It just took me by surprise because I haven’t been on the circuit for over a year.”
“You still look like you could fight. I mean, you look good. I mean, you’re in good shape,” I stammer.
He gives me a sexy smile. “Got it.”
“How about we finish this pizza, and we can ditch the towels and get back to the good stuff?”
