Page 12 of Accidentally Falling For My Best Friend
Holy shit,the pleasure that’s pooling deep in my gut seems to catch fire at the thought of what Parker’s doing in the same room as me. I can’t hold back my orgasm any longer, or the loud moan that I let out as cum coats my hand and soaks into my sleep shorts. Waves of pleasure crash into me and I ride out the euphoric feeling as I distantly recognize how fucking loud I must have been, but I honestly can’t find it in myself to care.
I’m so consumed by my own gratification that I almost miss the soft grunt from Parker as his movements slow before stopping completely.
Holy shit. I just heard my best friend come.My dick twitches again. Probably just excited about being able to do this again without waiting for the shower, not because of Parker.
I strip out of my shorts, using them to clean up my hand and any remaining release the best that I can. I decide that sleeping naked under the covers is definitely less awkward than jerking off together, so I throw them toward my hamper and call it a night.
I’m assuming that Parker has done the same, but by the time I’m settled again, he’s back to facing the wall, curled up in his blanket. I lay there for a few moments, still enjoying the post-orgasm high.
Should I say anything?I don’t have any clue what the proper etiquette is in this situation.
“Thanks, Parker. Goodnight,” I whisper after the silence becomes too uncomfortable.
After a few moments, I assume he’s fallen asleep, or at least is pretending to be sleeping. But then I hear a soft laugh followed by, “Night, Oak,” and a smile breaks out across my face.
I have the coolest best friend.
7
OAKLEY
THIRTY YEARS OLD
April
“Your insulin is ready for pickup at the pharmacy,” I tell Parker as he adds pre-workout powder to his water bottle.
“Thanks, Dad,” he replies sarcastically.
“That’s Daddy to you,” I say with a wink, slapping his ass as he walks past me to our front hall closet to grab his shoes.
He doesn’t react, which makes me laugh. I ignore the way my dick twitches at the contact. It’s been way too long since I hooked up with anyone.I seriously need to find a girlfriend.
“Oak, are you coming?” Parker calls out from our entryway.
I wish I was coming.Fuck, I need to get my mind out of the gutter. “Yup, one sec,” I answer back, grabbing my own workout drink and meeting him to head downstairs to the gym.
We live in the penthouse of one of the newest high-rises in downtown Chicago, and one of the reasons we picked it was for the top-of-the-line fitness center that takes up the entire fifth floor of the building. It’s also only a block away from my older brother,Beckett’s, building. We try to see him and his friends as much as we can, and even debated buying there, but it wasn’t as modern as Parker and I prefer.
Some people think it’s weird that Parker and I choose to share a condo when we’re thirty, successful, and have plenty of money for our own places, but I can’t imagine usnotliving together at this point.
It comforts me to know that he isn’t alone in case anything happens with his blood sugar. Not that it ever really does, he’s managed to stay out of the hospital since the scare when he received his diagnosis. But every time someone suggests we move into our own places, I picture him passed out again, with no one around to know he needs help, and I’m reminded of how much I love living together.
Plus, Parker is the best roommate ever. Why would I want to live by myself?
We make our way to the elevator and down to the gym, starting our routine on the treadmills like we usually do with a quick five-mile jog before we transition to the weight machines.
“Look, those girls are here again,” I point out, nodding in the direction of the women I’m talking about. They seem to have a similar workout schedule to ours, and we’ve noticed them checking us out and glancing in our direction for a couple of weeks now. We’ve exchanged polite hellos and smiles, but nothing more.
Which seems stupid considering how hot they are, and how fucking horny I’ve been lately.
“Let’s introduce ourselves after this rep,” I suggest, nudging his shoulder with mine.
“Why?” he questions, like he honestly has no idea why I would want to talk to the beautiful girls who seem to be into us. I’m constantly amused by the way Parker’s brain seems to differ from my own. He’s always been more introverted than I am, andsometimes I wonder if he would still be a virgin if I didn’t encourage him to talk to women as much as I have over the years.
“To see if they’re single, and if they are, to ask them out,” I spell out with an indulgent smile, endlessly entertained by how oblivious he can be.
“Oh,” he says, sounding genuinely surprised. “Okay, which one do you want to ask out?”
