Page 45 of She Was Made for Me

I turn on the shower and step into the tub, drawing the shower curtain. As steam curls up from the spray, I wrap my fist around my length, feeling equal parts horny as fuck and ashamed.

She’ll never know, I tell myself, but more importantly, Rich will never know.

I push the thought of my best friend from my head, letting the image of his daughter appear instead, needing to make this count as I’m only going to let myself jerk off to her once. Has she ever touched herself while thinking of me? What would she do if I walked in on her? She’d be on her bed, legs spread, fingers in her underwear, eyes closed…

I let myself slip into the fantasy as I grip my cock and stroke. In my mind, I stand in the doorway to the basement, watching her pleasure herself until I can’t handle it anymore.

“Need some help?” I rasp, and her eyes fly open in surprise, a gasp escaping her lips.

“What are you doing here?”

I ignore her question as I stalk across the room, coming to stand at the foot of her bed. “Were you thinking of me?”

Her cheeks turn that beautiful pink they get when she’s embarrassed, and she nods.

“Take your panties off,” I command, and she hesitates for a moment, then obeys. “Your bra, too.” She does as I say, then leans back on the bed, naked and spread out for me. “Good girl.” I strip my shirt off, then reach for my belt, but she sits up.

“Let me.” Her hands fumble on the buckle, as if she’s nervous, then she slides my zipper down, releasing my erection. My jeans fall to my ankles and before I can do anything more, her fist wraps around my length and my eyes roll back.

“Ohfuck,” I say thickly. “It feels so good to have your hands on me.” I kick my pants off and lower myself to the bed beside her. Her dark brown eyes are round, excited, and hungry for me.

“Are you finally going to give me what I need?” she whispers, and I nod.

“I am, sweetheart. You’ve been so patient with me.”

I brush my mouth over hers, heat pouring through me as her tongue laps against mine. My hands roam her beautiful body, cradling her pert breasts, stroking her nipples. Her back arches and she moans…

“Jesus,” I mutter out loud as the water streams over me. I brace myself against the shower wall and fuck my hand, imagining how soft her skin would feel, how sweet her little moans would be, how she might like to be touched. I let the fantasy take over again.

“I need you here.” She takes my hand and lowers it between her legs. My fingers touch her wet heat and I groan. “Yes,” she breathes as I circle her clit, stroking, pushing inside her tight wetness, then circling back.

“I can’t wait anymore,” I growl, nudging her back onto the pillow and climbing over her. “I need to feel you.” I spread her thighs and sink into her perfect tightness with a low groan. Her pussy grips my cock like it’s been waiting for me, like I’ve finally come home.

“Oh God, Kyle.” Her mouth finds mine and our tongues collide as our bodies rock together. Her lips are so sweet and I drink down her kiss, thrusting hard. She moans as I change the angle, going deeper.

“You like that, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”

I pin her hands above her head and she watches as I take control, holding her down and pounding her hard.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she pants, her hips bucking beneath me. “I’m going to come.”

That’s all it takes. I come so fucking hard, imagining the pleasure on her face, her legs wrapping around me as I bury myself deep.

The sound of water hitting the tub brings me back to my senses. My chest is heaving as I rinse off, feeling only a fraction of the satisfaction I was hoping for. More than anything I feel dirty, uneasy, as if I’ve crossed a line I shouldn’t have.

I shut off the shower and dry myself, pulling on fresh boxer-briefs and sinking onto my air mattress with a sigh. I reach for my phone to check the time, and there’s a text waiting for me.

From Rich.

Like he knew what I was doing and wanted to remind me I’m a complete dirtbag.

Rich: Up for an early game of racquetball tomorrow?

Guilt lashes through me as I stare at his words. The last thing I feel like doing is seeing my friend in the morning, knowing what I just imagined doing to his daughter.

Kyle: We’ve got a lot of work to do at the house.

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