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Authors: Scott Hildreth
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until his chin cleared the bar. After he exhaled, he lowered himself until his arms were locked straight. “Twenty.”
I studied his shirtless torso. His body was incredible. Covered in muscles and rippled with proof of his devotion. It was difficult not to drool as I admired him. The promise of sex tossed out the window didn’t matter, I was still soaked. I couldn’t help it.
The whirlwind of having him pin me against the wall and kiss me had me instantly aroused. Wrapping my delicate hand around his huge cock sent me over the edge. Sex or no sex, I felt I needed some relief.
Somehow.
“Ten days, huh?” I asked, studying him for imperfections, and finding only one large scar on his left bicep.
He pulled himself up to the bar again. “Yep.”
“Well,” I said. “I guess I’m frustrated too.”
He hoisted himself up to the bar again. “Join in. Exercise helps with frustration. I know that much.”
“Are blow jobs considered sex?” I asked.
“Depends,” he said dryly.
“On?”
“Who’s offering.”
It seemed pretty obvious. “Me?”
“Yes, it’d be sex.”
“Why?”
“Because I want it.”
“The discipline thing again?”
Still hoisted high in the bar, he nodded.
I forced a sigh, then pulled my shirt over my head. He lowered himself until his arms were locked. I removed my bra and tossed it on the floor beside my shirt. With his eyes still glued to me, he dangled from the bar.
I kicked off my flats, unbuttoned my pants, and pushed them down my thighs. He stared. I pulled them past my feet and tossed them into the pile. He hung from the bar, still staring in my direction. I slowly removed my panties.
His eyes went wide.
I lowered my right hand between my legs. The crotch of his sweats began to rise. I slid my finger in my pussy, closed my eyes, and moaned out into the room.
I opened my eyes.
He hung from the bar, the fabric of his sweats stretched to its limit.
I acted uninterested, turned away, and got on the treadmill. A few strides into what I expected would be a five-mile naked run, and I tilted my head toward him.
Still hanging from the bar with his cock poking straight out, he looked frustrated.
I hope you choke on your thirty-day rule , mister.
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Exercise makes it all better,” I lied.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
He released his grip from the bar, dropped to the floor and pressed against his stiff dick with the heel of his palm.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
With his face clearly showing his discomfort, he tossed his head toward the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Where you going?”
“I’ve got something I need to take care of.”
I continued my naked sprint. “Okay.”
With both hands pressing into the crotch of his sweats, he turned away. In a few steps, he disappeared down the hallway.
My mouth curled into a smile.
If I couldn’t have sex for ten more days, at least I could have fun.
Chapter Eight
Michael
We were six days away from having sex, and both of us seemed to be enjoying teasing the other about the limitations of my self-imposed thirty-day restriction. Initially, I thought it would be easy for me. After all, I had gone years without sex. In a relationship with Terra, however, things were different.
It was difficult.
My desire to be with her sexually was greater than my desire to do anything else. I attributed the longing to have sex with her to my knowing I couldn’t. Naturally, I wanted what I couldn’t have. At least that’s what I told myself.
Standing on the retail side of the entrance to the dressing rooms staring at her, I began to believe my yearning was more a result of her natural beauty.
She pressed the balls of her feet to the floor, lifted her heels, and spun in a circle. “What do you think?”
The little black dress. A staple in every girl’s wardrobe. Sleeveless with a neckline that exposed the cleavage of her shapely breasts, the dress she chose was revealing
I studied his shirtless torso. His body was incredible. Covered in muscles and rippled with proof of his devotion. It was difficult not to drool as I admired him. The promise of sex tossed out the window didn’t matter, I was still soaked. I couldn’t help it.
The whirlwind of having him pin me against the wall and kiss me had me instantly aroused. Wrapping my delicate hand around his huge cock sent me over the edge. Sex or no sex, I felt I needed some relief.
Somehow.
“Ten days, huh?” I asked, studying him for imperfections, and finding only one large scar on his left bicep.
He pulled himself up to the bar again. “Yep.”
“Well,” I said. “I guess I’m frustrated too.”
He hoisted himself up to the bar again. “Join in. Exercise helps with frustration. I know that much.”
“Are blow jobs considered sex?” I asked.
“Depends,” he said dryly.
“On?”
“Who’s offering.”
It seemed pretty obvious. “Me?”
“Yes, it’d be sex.”
“Why?”
“Because I want it.”
“The discipline thing again?”
Still hoisted high in the bar, he nodded.
I forced a sigh, then pulled my shirt over my head. He lowered himself until his arms were locked. I removed my bra and tossed it on the floor beside my shirt. With his eyes still glued to me, he dangled from the bar.
I kicked off my flats, unbuttoned my pants, and pushed them down my thighs. He stared. I pulled them past my feet and tossed them into the pile. He hung from the bar, still staring in my direction. I slowly removed my panties.
His eyes went wide.
I lowered my right hand between my legs. The crotch of his sweats began to rise. I slid my finger in my pussy, closed my eyes, and moaned out into the room.
I opened my eyes.
He hung from the bar, the fabric of his sweats stretched to its limit.
I acted uninterested, turned away, and got on the treadmill. A few strides into what I expected would be a five-mile naked run, and I tilted my head toward him.
Still hanging from the bar with his cock poking straight out, he looked frustrated.
I hope you choke on your thirty-day rule , mister.
“Yeah, I think you’re right. Exercise makes it all better,” I lied.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
He released his grip from the bar, dropped to the floor and pressed against his stiff dick with the heel of his palm.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
With his face clearly showing his discomfort, he tossed his head toward the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Where you going?”
“I’ve got something I need to take care of.”
I continued my naked sprint. “Okay.”
With both hands pressing into the crotch of his sweats, he turned away. In a few steps, he disappeared down the hallway.
My mouth curled into a smile.
If I couldn’t have sex for ten more days, at least I could have fun.
Chapter Eight
Michael
We were six days away from having sex, and both of us seemed to be enjoying teasing the other about the limitations of my self-imposed thirty-day restriction. Initially, I thought it would be easy for me. After all, I had gone years without sex. In a relationship with Terra, however, things were different.
It was difficult.
My desire to be with her sexually was greater than my desire to do anything else. I attributed the longing to have sex with her to my knowing I couldn’t. Naturally, I wanted what I couldn’t have. At least that’s what I told myself.
Standing on the retail side of the entrance to the dressing rooms staring at her, I began to believe my yearning was more a result of her natural beauty.
She pressed the balls of her feet to the floor, lifted her heels, and spun in a circle. “What do you think?”
The little black dress. A staple in every girl’s wardrobe. Sleeveless with a neckline that exposed the cleavage of her shapely breasts, the dress she chose was revealing
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