Page 45 of The Legend Next Door
I push back steadily and my hole opens as the cool, unyielding toy slides deeper.
Vanessa said some other things too, though the rest of what she said is coming through a little less clearly. Despite her good advice, and despite the fact that the toy is too cold, too small, too artificial, and not nearly Ben enough, by the time my ass cheeks make contact with frigid wall tile, the feeling of fullness has numbed me to most other things.
I thrust back and forth slowly, impaling myself as deeply as possible. I think mean thoughts about sex toys and the people who leave them out for others to see as I gallantly attempt to hold back the tide of new imagery I now have at my disposal.
I find my rhythm and quicken my speed, thrusting my hips back and forth with no-nonsense resolve. Deep jolts of pleasure rush up my rectum. I fuck myself hard and fast, wrapping my hand around my cock and stroking when I find myself craving more sensation.
Vanessa’s words grow quiet and distant and then disappear altogether. In their place, I see Ben as he was earlier. In my house, reaching back, head dipped and turned to the side as he curled a big hand around the collar of his shirt.
I see his belly.
His chest hair.
His abs. Dear God, his abs.
His muscular arms, his back, his skin.
His skin.
Hisskin.
Fuck, there was so much skin. So much beautiful skin.
I see myself too.
In the fantasy, I’m not an idiot. I’m not the kind of person who embarrasses myself or falls for straight men. I’m a shirtless sex god too, and damn, I look good. I’m wearing white linen pants that pool slightly at my feet and my boner is clearly visible through them. Ben can see it, and he doesn’t mind it. He likes it.
I start stroking faster, amplifying the warm, tingling sensation in my dick till I can’t hold back a groan.
In the fantasy, I have my hands on Ben, just like I had them on him in reality. In the fantasy, his head is turned to the side on my table, so one side of his face is visible. His lips turn up when I touch him, and he smiles sweetly as he emits the sexiest little sounds I’ve ever heard.
My dick is no longer warm and it’s no longer tingling. It’s a hot rod that’s almost too sensitive to touch, and yet I can’t stop. Pleasure boils inside me. Swelling and leaking.
Close.
I’m so close.
I close my eyes to see Ben again. He’s still smiling, but not sweetly. He’s smiling like he knows what he’s doing to me. Like he knows and likes it. Like he means it and wants me to feel like this.
In the fantasy, I lean down. I inhale the air around him, breathing him in, and do the thing it took every ounce of my strength, restraint, and moral fiber not to do in reality.
In the fantasy, I taste him. I rub my face all over his back. His shoulders. His neck. I navigate my route over his body with my lips first, feeling my way with my eyes closed, and when I’ve had my fill of that, I open my mouth and run my tongue up his spine.
I come so hard my knees give out and the only thing holding me up is the fucking toy that caused this mess in the first place.
27
Jeremiah Blake
Myheartclatterswildlyas I walk down the path. I have a coffee mug in each hand and an erratic skip in my step.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, my body is reacting as though something has happened between me and Ben. I have that feeling you get when you’ve had a crush on someone for ages, and something has finally happened, but it happened when it was dark and no words were spoken, so the next time you see each other, it’s a confusion of butterflies. A hot mess of bodily chaos. A blood-pumping organ hammering out of control. Sweaty palms. Heated cheeks. All paired with an unshakable conviction that your future happiness hinges entirely on how your next interaction with him goes.
It’s like that, except, obviously, nothing actually happened.
The man cried on you. He didn’t come on you,I tell myself for the hundredth time. For the hundredth time, it does nothing to lessen the excitement-slash-abject terror I’m experiencing.
“Hi,” I say, voice wispy and shaking with nerves at the sight of Ben.
