I love him.
I want to tell him. I fight the words falling out of my mouth every time his arms wrap around me, every time he pulls me close, every time I breathe when he’s around.
Tell him, tell him, tell him, screams in my mind while I watch the trees pass on our way to
Banker’s Life Field House for Kohl’s date with the Pacers. His excitement is palpable; I can feel it radiating from his jittery body, his thumbs tapping a rapid rhythm on the steering wheel and his knee bouncing up and down.
We haven’t spent a night apart since January, with the exception of his away games. I either sneak my way into his dorm or he sneaks his way into mine. Last night he was like a kid the night before Christmas, his legs restless, his body tossing and turning. His nervous energy filling the room to the point that Ronnie threatened to make him sleep in the hall.
I did my best to relax him with a secret hand-job under the covers after Ronnie fell asleep but all it accomplished was a goofy grin on his face and an ache between my thighs. An ache he wanted to cure, but I needed sleep. After scratching my nails along his scalp and rubbing his back for hours he drifted off, tossing and turning deep into the night.
I can’t help clenching my thighs together thinking of his hard steel erection exploding his seed across my hand while he hid his moan in the pillow. Knowing I had that power over him. This hot man, who could have anyone, is next to me. Being pleased by my hand.
Many nights have been spent learning Kohl’s body and learning what gets me from point A to point ecstasy with a quickness. Having a roommate makes orgasms a hot commodity. Men are so lucky, their equipment is on the outside and accessible for quick anywhere, anytime pleasure. Women need a place to lose their pants and spread their legs, so unfair.
Sometimes we have hours, sometimes we have minutes. We’ve gotten quite creative in our attempts to find sexy time alone with each other.
“What are you thinking about over there, Tennie Girl?”
“The past few weeks. How everything is so good,” I replied feeling my cheeks warm.
“That’s not all your thinking. You’re rubbing your thighs together and breathing heavy. Your skin is the pink color I love so much. Tell me what’s going on in your pretty head.”
“You. I’m thinking about you,” I respond softly.
Reaching over the shifter in Ronnie’s Tesla, we borrowed for the trip, he moves his hand slowly up my thigh, lifting my dress as he goes. Yes, I’m wearing a dress. I still love my yoga pants but I have extended my wardrobe to include some other things. Kohl loves my legs; he can’t keep his hands off me when my legs are exposed so I made sure I had a few cute dresses to wear when we go out together but always with my Chuck’s on my feet.
His fingertips burn a path along my heated flesh leaving goose bumps, “Are you thinking about how my tongue feels while it flicks your clit? How my fingers feel buried deep inside that amazing pussy?” he asks teasing his finger along the edge of my panties.
Throwing my head back against the headrest, I protest but his dirty mouth is a weakness, “Kohl, you’re driving,” I whimper.
“You love my dirty mouth, don’t you?” he asks glancing at me and back to the road. “Spread them sexy thighs for me,” he commands leaning forward toward the steering wheel, never taking his eyes off the road.
His dirty mouth and wicked fingers have me angling my body toward him, spreading my legs wide. My breath baited waiting for more of his touch. I’ve discovered that Kohl’s domineering commands take me from dry to soaked in the blink of an eye. He has proved, more than once, sex is amazing and my earlier analysis was wrong. He’s made it his mission to show me all the ways he can please me and he’s right, sex is a great stress reliever when done with the right person.
Rubbing his finger over my panty covered pussy, I feel the wetness pooling. I smell my arousal filling the car.
“Hold your panties to the side,” he rasps.
Grabbing my boy shorts, I slide them to the side giving him full access to me. He plays my body like an instrument, knowing exactly what I need and how to draw out my pleasure. Bending his wrist, he slips two fingers inside, as far as he can reach, curling them up with each plunge. Bringing them back out he puts them to his lips and sucks my essence off before plunging them back inside me. I love when he does this, it’s one of the most erotic actions I have ever witnessed.
“Play with your luscious tits. Tease your nipples, like I would,” he orders.
Reaching with my other hand I grasp my breast, kneading, massaging, pinching my pebbled nipples through the material of my dress and bra. Feeding the fire that’s building in my body. I’m so close, the flames of my orgasm are right there but I need more. More he can’t give driving 70 miles per hour down the interstate.
If you had told me a few months ago that I would be comfortable enough to play with myself in front of someone I would have laughed in your face. If you had told me it would be in front of the magnificence that is Kohl Black I would have said you needed to be placed in the looney bin. Sitting here
