Tonight was amazing. It was the best non-date I’ve ever been on. I loved talking and hanging out with Ben, which seems crazy considering how much I used to hate the mere presence of him. The boy I once wished never existed was now the man I wanted to spend every second with. I’m not holding on to that hate I once had for him anymore. I can’t. Not when the man he is now makes me feel things I’ve only read about in books. I’m done trying to forget that I gave him a part of me that no one else will ever touch. I want him to have it. I want him to have every piece of me. Benjamin Kelly is becoming everything I’ve ever wanted, and I am finally willing to admit that to myself.
At the very moment my eyes shut, Tessa swings my door open and walks over to my bed, lying down next to me. I wait for the interrogation to start, but it doesn’t come, which is shocking. Rolling over, I notice her worried expression.
“I’m late,” she states, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.
“For…” And then it hits me. Girls only use that wording for one thing when it’s paired with the look she’s carrying right now. “Oh, my God. What are you going to do?”
She finally looks at me but doesn’t respond. But she doesn’t have to. Her face is giving away everything she needs to say.
She has no fucking clue.
Ben
I wanted to tell her she looked beautiful that night.
I wanted to wrap my arm around her shoulder and hold her against my chest when she slid next to me in my truck.
I wanted to kiss those soft full lips before she walked into the house.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t do any of those things. Not when I was very clear about that night not being a date.
I’m trying to earn Mia’s trust, and drilling her into my bench seat isn’t the way to go about it. If I act on my impulses, it will fuck up the progress I’ve somehow managed to make. She’s talking to me now instead of brushing me off. She’s spending time with me instead of running away. Or jumping off cliffs. I can’t lose what I have going with Mia. And my dick can hate me all it wants, but I am adamant about keeping things friendly with her for now.
Four days. That’s how long I make it without seeing her before I find myself driving to my parents’ house after work. And believe me when I say that those four days were the longest of my life. Thank Christ I have a job, otherwise I’m certain I would’ve gone completely mental without a distraction. Luke enjoyed my misery immensely, making sure to point out every time I brought Mia’s name up in a conversation that had everything to do with work and nothing to do with her. And it was misery. Keeping my thoughts off her tight pussy and focusing on the friendship I was building with her. And if my own mind wasn’t hard enough to filter on its own, she started throwing text messages at me that were becoming more and more sexual. Apparently, Mia and I were now the type of friends that joked around about sex. She was so fucking comfortable with me now that nothing was off limits to her.
And she didn’t care to ask me if I was okay with that before she shifted us into that category.
Mia: Do you think it’s possible to get carpal tunnel from masturbating too much?
This was the first one she threw at me. My brain was immediately flooded with images of her touching herself, and it took every ounce of strength in me not to get off before I replied. I should’ve answered it with something like this:
Me: Mia, I don’t think that’s an appropriate friend conversation to have. And we’re friends, so let’s not go there.
But no, I’m a complete shit with zero willpower. So instead, I answered with this:
Me: If it’s possible, I’d already have it.
Yup. Now she knew I was jerking off like a mad man. Which was the God’s honest truth. I was hoping that this was a mistake on her part, and she’d realize her error and never tempt me with another text like this again. My dick was throbbing enough without the help from the images she was putting into my head. But apparently, she was just getting started.
Mia: What do you think is my best feature? Tessa says my legs, but I’m thinking my boobs. Thoughts?
Thoughts? Really? I was convinced that she was trying to kill me. She was an angel and a devil wrapped into one package that I couldn’t refuse. One that I desperately wanted to bend over my bed and fuck into tomorrow. I couldn’t ignore her. We were friends, and if this was the type of friends she wanted to be, then I could be that. I’d be hard constantly, but let’s face it, being around her was already making that an issue. So I decided to just go with it and answer honestly.
Me: Tits, mouth, ass, legs. In that order.
I thought I was golden. I thought I was going to be able to handle these sexual texts and not have my dick in my hand twenty-four hours a day. And I would’ve been, if she didn’t up the stakes.
Mia: Do guys prefer a girl that swallows to a girl that spits? I mean, isn’t the general act of sucking off a guy enough to make them happy? Does it really matter what I do with your cum?
Motherfucker. This text was reread numerous times, mainly when I was jerking myself off. Especially that last sentence. The implication of it being my cum in her mouth was too much for me. I was weak. Weak and hornier than I’ve ever been in my
