slung back in a ponytail.
Soreness? Throbbing pains!
Uhhh . . . How was he going to keep this hidden if she sat by him on the couch?
Was there a blanket on her furniture he could borrow?
He took the last few remnants of his food, grabbed a bottled water while she was in the fridge assembling something for herself and raced to the couch before she saw.
Once on the cushions, he decided to lay on the couch on his stomach. The last of his sandwich was crammed in his mouth.
“I hope you don’t mind sci-fi, because I usually watch something like Doctor Who or Torchwood when I get home if my mom’s not here. She hates those shows, so I have to do it when she’s gone.” Mari picked up his legs with one hand, sat down and set them on her lap.
The movement and friction made him sorer than ever. But it was fine—it was hidden.
Her couch was upholstered in really soft suede. He ran his hand back and forth over it, creating fun patterns and enjoying the texture.
She turned on the TV and then the DVD player with a big remote.
“ Torchwood it is,” she mumbled. Her mouth was full of an orange slice.
The episode took all of his concentration, relieving his soreness. There was a man named Captain Jack being covered with concrete. He screamed as this happened to him, but Mari seemed unconcerned as it played out.
She was engrossed in the show almost as much as he was. It was harder to focus now because she was done eating, and her hands drew lazy circles on the backs of his calves and ankles.
The soreness returned in moments, and his gut was so tight he could feel bile backed up in his throat. His legs were covered in flashes of warmth from the heat of her hands, followed by icy goose bumps prickling his skin.
This was definitely the best day of his life. Nobody ever touched him down there or this much. He wanted to make her promise to touch him like this every day.
Instead, he kept his eyes glued to the TV.
A big construction machine was hauling a large slab of concrete on the show. Seconds later, the slab was dropped over the side of a huge cliff. Adam realized that man, Captain Jack, had been encased in the concrete. He gasped when it exploded on impact.
Some of Captain Jack’s friends who were trying to free him jumped into a car and raced down to the bottom of the cliff. Captain Jack inhaled with a scary high squeal and then was breathing.
Mari grabbed Adam’s leg and squeezed. He gasped again.
The woman in the car raced over to Captain Jack, and even though he was undressed, she spoke to him.
“That man’s naked,” Adam observed.
“Yes, he is,” Mari said through a sigh.
“Is that okay? Should she be near him?”
“It’s more than okay,” she answered.
And in that moment, it was like time stopped. His father wasn’t here to turn this show off since nudity was wrong in their house. Adam was never allowed to roam around the house without clothes, and he wanted to. Or at least shirtless when it got really hot.
Mari didn’t seem offended—acted like it was natural for this man and woman to talk when he was undressed.
Images of Adam in the nude, speaking to Mari, flooded his mind.
A pained sound ground out of his chest as he got really sore. What would it be like to have Mari look at him without clothes on?
What would it feel like to have her warm hands touch his chest, his abs, his sore spot?
He groaned, and she started scratching his legs in the most beautiful way imaginable. Long grazing strokes that stole his breath away.
“I can turn this off,” she offered, “if it’s bothering you.”
“No! And keep touching me that way.”
“You sure?”
“I’m surer than I could ever be. I really like it.”
He rolled onto his side. She’d see his predicament, but if she was okay seeing that naked man on TV, maybe she wouldn’t be offended.
“I can tell,” she said, but it was soft and kind.
His dad was wrong. It wasn’t rude to have an erection. Mari was fine with it. He rolled
Soreness? Throbbing pains!
Uhhh . . . How was he going to keep this hidden if she sat by him on the couch?
Was there a blanket on her furniture he could borrow?
He took the last few remnants of his food, grabbed a bottled water while she was in the fridge assembling something for herself and raced to the couch before she saw.
Once on the cushions, he decided to lay on the couch on his stomach. The last of his sandwich was crammed in his mouth.
“I hope you don’t mind sci-fi, because I usually watch something like Doctor Who or Torchwood when I get home if my mom’s not here. She hates those shows, so I have to do it when she’s gone.” Mari picked up his legs with one hand, sat down and set them on her lap.
The movement and friction made him sorer than ever. But it was fine—it was hidden.
Her couch was upholstered in really soft suede. He ran his hand back and forth over it, creating fun patterns and enjoying the texture.
She turned on the TV and then the DVD player with a big remote.
“ Torchwood it is,” she mumbled. Her mouth was full of an orange slice.
The episode took all of his concentration, relieving his soreness. There was a man named Captain Jack being covered with concrete. He screamed as this happened to him, but Mari seemed unconcerned as it played out.
She was engrossed in the show almost as much as he was. It was harder to focus now because she was done eating, and her hands drew lazy circles on the backs of his calves and ankles.
The soreness returned in moments, and his gut was so tight he could feel bile backed up in his throat. His legs were covered in flashes of warmth from the heat of her hands, followed by icy goose bumps prickling his skin.
This was definitely the best day of his life. Nobody ever touched him down there or this much. He wanted to make her promise to touch him like this every day.
Instead, he kept his eyes glued to the TV.
A big construction machine was hauling a large slab of concrete on the show. Seconds later, the slab was dropped over the side of a huge cliff. Adam realized that man, Captain Jack, had been encased in the concrete. He gasped when it exploded on impact.
Some of Captain Jack’s friends who were trying to free him jumped into a car and raced down to the bottom of the cliff. Captain Jack inhaled with a scary high squeal and then was breathing.
Mari grabbed Adam’s leg and squeezed. He gasped again.
The woman in the car raced over to Captain Jack, and even though he was undressed, she spoke to him.
“That man’s naked,” Adam observed.
“Yes, he is,” Mari said through a sigh.
“Is that okay? Should she be near him?”
“It’s more than okay,” she answered.
And in that moment, it was like time stopped. His father wasn’t here to turn this show off since nudity was wrong in their house. Adam was never allowed to roam around the house without clothes, and he wanted to. Or at least shirtless when it got really hot.
Mari didn’t seem offended—acted like it was natural for this man and woman to talk when he was undressed.
Images of Adam in the nude, speaking to Mari, flooded his mind.
A pained sound ground out of his chest as he got really sore. What would it be like to have Mari look at him without clothes on?
What would it feel like to have her warm hands touch his chest, his abs, his sore spot?
He groaned, and she started scratching his legs in the most beautiful way imaginable. Long grazing strokes that stole his breath away.
“I can turn this off,” she offered, “if it’s bothering you.”
“No! And keep touching me that way.”
“You sure?”
“I’m surer than I could ever be. I really like it.”
He rolled onto his side. She’d see his predicament, but if she was okay seeing that naked man on TV, maybe she wouldn’t be offended.
“I can tell,” she said, but it was soft and kind.
His dad was wrong. It wasn’t rude to have an erection. Mari was fine with it. He rolled
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