Page 20 of Twisted Lies
“JR…” I murmur before rolling over to his half of the bed that’s surprisingly warm considering how low the flames are in the fire. “Would a trek to the bathroom be too much to ask?”
Up until two days ago, I would have never asked someone to accompany me to the bathroom, but after the frantic whistles of the wind last night and taking the inches upon inches of snow covering the only window of the cabin, I know it won’t be a solo trek today.
I don’t need JR to place me onto the toilet seat, but I sure as hell won’t make it that far without his help.
After breathing out my annoyance that I’m not as strong as I like to portray, I stand with the aid of the chunky bed knob. “JR?” I try again before I curse my stupidity to hell.
He’s deaf, you idiot.He can’t hear your calls for help.
Just as I snatch up the stick JR dumped by my bed last night to whack it against the bedpost, a groan sounds from the bathroom. It’s rough and unhinged like someone is in as much pain as my bladder.
“Hello?” I murmur, confident the grunt didn’t come from JR. I’ve grown accustomed to his grumbles the past couple of days. This wasn’t one I’d heard before. “Is someone here?”
Mindful the spikes JR located could have been earmarked for me, I hold out the stick in front of myself like it’s a weapon of mass destruction before I hobble toward the bathroom, confident that is the direction the noise came from.
“I should warn you that I’m armed.” Partway through my confession, my eyes stray to the doorway. My worry doubles when I spot JR’s gun resting against the warped wooden material. My father always says if you see a hunter without a gun, he’s most likely being hunted, and the groan that leaves the bathroom this time around backs up his claims.
JR sounds like he’s in pain and has me racing through the bathroom door without a single thought for my safety.
He saved me, so it is only fair I return the favor.
“JR…” I burst through the door at the speed of light, then I almost choke on my spit. JR isn’t being tortured by a bunch of locals who have confused him as Big Foot. He’s washing himself in the shower, and the visual is enthralling.
The water has flattened his hair away from his face, his beard is glistening with the droplets I’m suddenly envious of, and his hand is wrapped around his fat cock.
When it dawns on me that he’s relieving tension in the exact manner you’d expect for a man who lives in the woods, instead of upholding his privacy, I watch every sordid detail with a wish my tongue could hang out of my mouth, and the urges of my bladder are pushed aside for a throbbing clit.
I’ve never seen a more stimulating image. The pumps of his hand are long and controlled, yet still urgent and greedy. He drags his hand down his veiny shaft until his uncurled pinkie dips into the curly black hairs covering his sack before he drags it back to the glistening tip.
Although now is not the time for a medical evaluation, his lack of foreskin assures me his move to the wilderness didn’t occur until after he was circumcised. The perfect symmetry of his cock’s head is too refined to consider the prospect he was circumcised by wilderness lovers. It’s curved, glistening with arousal, and so damn thick, I doubt much more than the knob will slide between a woman’s lips when she was giving him oral.
The jealousy my last thought instigates is outrageous. It rips through me as dangerously as the jolt of pleasure JR’s next groan does. He appears close to climax, and I’m standing barefoot on shards of glass in anticipation of its arrival.
Will he speak when he comes?
Will he stay mute?
Or will he lock his eyes with mine across the steamy room, forcing me to turn around?
The popping of my eyes out of my head should inform you which route he takes, but in case it doesn’t, he went for choice number three.
“I’m so sorry,” I blubber out before spinning around and snapping my eyes to the wall like I wasn’t eyeballing him with a pair of eyes not belonging to a medical professional. “I need to use the bathroom, but the path is snowed over.” Lying to get myself out of trouble already reveals my level of stupidity when I’m turned on, so forgetting that he can’t hear me since I’m facing away from him ranks low on the inane things I’ve done the past few days.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I sign. “I think the track might be snowed over.”
After breathing out three times, I slowly drift my eyes to the steamy vanity mirror. It isn’t the standard mirror you’d usually find in a rustic cabin. It’s more an industrial sheet of reflective steel tacked to the wall, but it does as intended and allows me to lock my eyes with JR.
“I shouldn’t have watched,” I breathe out slowly, suddenly remorseful. “It was just—” I stop, unsure how to articulate what I just saw before the most brilliant response pops into my head. “Exhilarating.” I shake off the tingles the flare in his eyes causes before responding, “But that doesn’t excuse me for invading your privacy. I shouldn’t have…”
My apology is cut short by the quivered breath that parts my lips when JR re-fists his cock. With his eyes locked on mine and his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he drags his hand to the base of his cock before he returns it to the glistening tip.
When his hand remains circling his thick cock, but it doesn’t move an inch, I squeeze my thighs together, then jerk up my chin, encouraging him to continue.
He does that not even half a second later.
With every second our eyes lock and hold, the tension in the room magnifies. It crackles and hisses in the air, and before my brain can talk me out of it, it has me spinning around to face JR front on. I want him to see what the image of him stroking his cock does to my body. I want him to drink in my pebbled nipples, rosy cheeks, and dilated eyes even more than I want to lap up the glistening bead at the end of his impressive cock.
The droplet of precum grows and grows and grows until it eventually rolls to the underside of his cock’s head and is then gathered by his hand so he can use it to quicken his strokes.
