Free Tied Together by Z. B. Heller Page B

I moved my hand up and down my shaft, allowing myself to fantasize of images I’d tried so hard to deny: Ryan’s mouth on mine, biting, sucking, and trying to steal my breath to make it his own. His mouth moving down my body and stopping to take tiny bites of my harden nipples.
    I stroked my erection faster and cupped my balls with my other hand, pulling and squeezing them to enhance my pleasure.
    I imagined Ryan was with me in the shower, gloriously naked with streams of water running down his body. He would sink to his knees, kissing the inside of my thighs while grabbing each round globe of my ass. Engulfing my cock, catching me off guard, he would suck on my length as if it were his last dying wish. I pumped my hand in the same rhythm I imagined Ryan’s head bobbing up and down on me. My balls drew up tight to my groin, and a pull from my lower spine told me I was close. I thought about Ryan looking up at me, coaxing me wordlessly to release into his mouth. I felt my stomach clench and my toes curl as I pulled one last time and white ribbons of come fell onto the shower floor.
    My orgasm was so strong that my vision blurred when I opened my eyes, and I had to brace my hand on the shower wall to prevent me from falling to my knees. I gasped for air and tried to regulate my racing heart. Immediately fear, guilt, and shame consumed me. It certainly wasn’t the first time I jerked off, but it was the first time I let myself fantasize about Ryan. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had, which only amplified my guilt. Maybe this was it; this was what I needed to get past the insane notion that I wanted my best friend sexually. Maybe I’d created this larger-than-life issue in my mind, but that was where it was supposed to stay.
    After convincing myself that was the case, I finished my shower and got out to prepare for my date with Nicole. I put on the clothes I’d picked out, sprayed on cologne, fixed my hair, and bushed my teeth. The thought of kissing her made me slightly queasy. Grabbing my car keys, I walked out the door and convinced myself this was the way it had to be. A man and a woman going on a date and possibly having sex; the queasy feeling turned into full-fledged panic.
    Nicole was waiting for me at the entrance to her high rise. She lived in an area called the Gold Coast, which was a wealthy part of Chicago. The Gold Coast had tall skyscraper condos, elite stores, and it was walking distance from Chicago’s iconic Michigan Avenue. If my nerves weren’t on fire before, they blazed an inferno now. Nicole was a girl who expected a certain level of extravagance. I was a premed student with an empty wallet and a small credit line. I wasn’t quite sure how I would ever live up to her lifestyle.
    Ryan never makes me feel unworthy, I thought absently as Nicole strode over to my car.
    She wore a gold shimmery dress that covered one shoulder, but left the other one bare. It was also short—very short. I was worried that as soon as she crossed her legs, everyone would get a show of what was underneath there. I didn’t want to know.
    Fuck, I should want to know.
    She opened the passenger door and slipped into my car; her large earrings tinkled like bells on each ear as her head moved. Her hair was done up, and I wanted to cough from the overbearing mixture of her hairspray and perfume.
    “Hi, handsome.” She flashed a smile through her flaming red lipstick. “You look smoking hot.” She gave me a hungry once-over. I guessed she approved the outfit, but she would have approved more if I were naked.
    “You look very nice,” I said, returning the compliment.
    “Oh, well, I wanted to look good for you, but I hope you don’t mind that I’m not wearing a bra with this dress.” She winked.
    Oh, fucking shit balls. I noticed her eyes dart toward my groin, assuming her remark would have a certain affect. I, too, hoped to get a hard-on, but nothing moved below the belt. I needed to change the subject