Page 63 of Looks Real Good Now
No matter where I went, I always packed a dress shirt and suit pants, just in case. It never occurred to me that one day my ‘just in case’ would be putting it on for the sole purpose of edging myself in front of mygirlfriend.
When I got back to our room, I changed out of my sweatpants into the suit pants, leaving the zip open and perfectly framing my leaking cock in my boxers. Then I pulled on my dress shirt, leaving it unbuttoned, and rolled the sleeves up to the elbows.
Mostly dressed again, I picked up the cock ring and the lube and lay back on the bed, tugging my boxers down to rest under my balls.
I started with slow, teasing touches that made the tip leak and my lower abdomen tense almost painfully. It didn’t take long before I felt like I was ready to explode, which was when I released my cock and took a few deep breaths. There was only so much teasing I could take before I came and I wanted,needed,Lenny to get back before the twenty minutes were up.
She’d made cookies in less time, surely pasta dough was easier.
When I felt like I could touch my dick again without erupting all over my stomach, I grabbed the lube and the cock ring, applying an almost excessive amount of lube to both my dick and the toy, before securing it at the base of my dick. I pulled my boxers back up to cover me, and the damp cotton almost stung against my over-sensitive flesh.
I couldn’t remember the last time I was so desperate to come. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing.
Twenty-four minutes after we got home, the bedroom door opened. I opened my eyes to see Alana close the door behindher.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she said, leaning back against the door.
“I said I thought you’d like it.” My voice sounded wrecked. It matched how I felt, still so close and yet so far from the release my body so desperately needed.
“Can I ask how this particular pre-game ritual came to be? For some reason, that was all I could think about while making pasta. I had to start it again.” She was twisting the ring on her thumb, something she mostly did when she was nervous. Her fingers had found it a lot earlier in the week, but she had been playing with it less since we went skating. There was a chance that she was nervous at this moment, but she had control of this situation, which led me to believe that she was playing with it now for a different reason. She also played with that ring when she was thinking.
I was probably about to find myself in a whole world of pain. And I’d thank her for it when she was done with me.
“Sure. Look out your window.”
Her eyes tore themselves away from me and to her window.
“I’m looking at your bedroom.” When she looked back at me, my cock twitched, and I took one more steadying breath.
“We were sixteen, and I was getting ready to go to a game when you came back into your room wearing a towel. You walked past the window and then threw your towel across the room. I saw it fly past the window and I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you were naked, just out of sight. I’d never thought about you like that until then, and I thought maybe it was just a passing thought, but I couldn’t stop wondering aboutwhat shade of brown your nipples were or what the curve of your waist into your hip would feel like under my hands. Before I knew what I was doing, I was stroking myself, thinking about you, and I promised myself that once I came, I wouldn’t do it again, that I wouldn’t think of you like that.”
“Except you won,” she interjected, her voice breathless, her body still.
“We won,” I whispered.
“So, did you think of me every time, or just pre-game?” She stepped away from the door towards the bed, her movements slow.
“Pre-game.”
“That makes sense, I guess, what with it being embedded in a superstition. When did it stop?”
“Consistently? When I started in college. But you made a guest appearance every now and then and I always seemed to play better on those days.” I always won on those days. Every time. Without fail. It became a superstition within a superstition by my junior year of college.
She nodded, then pulled her sweater off and dropped it on the floor. She reached behind her back, undid the clasp of her bra, and let that join her sweater on the floor before she climbed on the bed, her nipples already puckering.
“You can look, but not touch. Unless you’re touching yourself, which you should definitely start doing.”
I groaned.
“If I do that, I’m gonna come. The last however many minutes have been a real exercise of my endurance.”
She smirked as she reached for the waistband of my boxersand pulled them down, tucking it under my balls. She gasped.
“You’re wearing the cock ring.”
“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a desperate whisper as she ran a finger along the silicone, the barest of brushes against my length.
“I remember you telling me that it vibrates.” Her fingers brushed against my swollen balls, and I twitched. I then felt the press of something cool in my hand. “Do me a favour, baby, and get that wet with your mouth. Try not to bite down on it.”
