From the second she came over, threw herself in my lap, and practically declared war, my dick has been begging for me to bury myself inside of her. I walk around almost all the time with a perpetual hard-on. No amount of cold showers and jerk-off sessions are enough to compete against what Tessa Callahan does to me.
It started that night, when she kissed my neck, moaned in my ear, and rubbed her clothed pussy against me until I was damn near ready to burst. Then, right before I found relief, she got
up, winked, and walked out—leaving me in a confused haze of blissful torture.
Over the next few days, she began doing little things. Stepping in front of me, intentionally making it so her ass rubs against my crotch. Sucking on a lollipop during class in a way that could put porn to shame. Sitting on my kitchen counter and asking if I think it’s a good height for her to straddle me. The answer was yes.
In short, the girl knows what she wants, and she’s not backing down. Take right now for example: I’m sitting on my couch while she proceeds to model her new lingerie to “get my opinion.” As she steps out in a black lace bra and a matching pair of panties, I groan and adjust myself for the umpteenth time since this torture session started.
“Do you think this is cute?” she asks, like it’s a legitimate question. “Too revealing?”
I stare blankly at her, doing everything in my power mask how much effort it’s taking to stay in this goddamn seat.
She tilts her head to the side. “What? If you’re uncomfortable, I could just go find Oakley. I’m sure he’ll let me model this stuff for him.”
“If you think I’d let you get one foot out that door, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
Her gasp shows how caught off guard she is, and I use it to my advantage. Getting up, I stalk toward her until she’s pressed up against the wall. My body hovers over hers as her breathing starts to quicken. I slide my hand gently down the front of her, stopping when I’m right where she wants me.
Putting the slightest pressure on her clit, she releases a moan that goes straight to my cock. I move my fingers in a circular motion while her eyes close in ecstasy. However, I only let it last a couple seconds before I pull away and leave her silently begging for more.
“Remember, babe,” I wink as I take a step back. “You’re not the only one who knows how to tease.”
I’M IN THE MIDDLE of teaching a class, when I look over and notice Tessa’s head is down on her desk. If my attention wasn’t so constantly drawn to her, the increasingly tired look on her face might go unnoticed—but that’s not the case. It seems like the more time that passes, the more exhausted she looks. Still gorgeous, but exhausted none the less.
Even last weekend, when she spent the night at my house after having one too many glasses of wine, I found her awake at three in the morning. She was scrolling through social media on her phone and gave me some half-assed excuse of not being able to sleep, but wouldn’t tell me why. I’ve learned the hard way what happens when I press her for information, so I decided not to push the subject. Now I’m starting to wonder if I should have.
“Lennon, can I see you for a second?” I ask, holding a random piece of paper in my hand as a front.
She gets up from her desk and walks to the front of the room. As soon as she’s standing in front of me, I glance over at a sleeping Tessa and back at her.
“Is she okay?” I whisper.
The look on her face tells me she’s not. “I don’t know. She’s more irritable lately, but whenever I ask her about it, she says she’s fine.”
Just then, Tessa wakes up with a loud gasp and a terrified look on her face. It draws everyone’s attention to her, including mine. As she gazes around the room, her shoulders relax and her expression gets wiped clean. She shoots me a shy smile before looking away. I look up at Lennon who sighs.
“I’ll see what I can get out of her.”
I WALK INTO MY penthouse with the phone held firmly against my ear. The whole drive home, I’ve been trying to get Colby to give me Lennon’s phone number. After what happened in class, I’m worried about Tessa. And being as I can’t exactly ask her for her best friend’s phone number without looking super fucking suspicious…
“Colby, just give me the damn phone number.”
He chuckles. “I don’t know, Mr. Moral High Ground. I don’t think it would be good for your I’m the good guy image to have a seventeen-year old’s phone number in your phone.”
“Cut the shit. I told you. I just want to check on Tessa. Something’s wrong with her.”
“Of course something is wrong with her,” he says as if he’s obvious. “She’s sexually fucking frustrated, caused by a douchebag who wants her but won’t let himself actually have her.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck you.”
“No, Asher. Fuck her.”
Dropping the subject, I listen as Colby goes into an overly long rant about how Coach needs to lay off his dick, and that as long as he’s showing up for games and practices, his personal life should be his own choice. Clearly, he’s still pissed off about the fact that Colby fucked his niece without a care in the world and refused to see her again after.
A half hour later, he’s still going. I’m sitting on my couch when the elevator doors open and Tessa comes through them. She’s wearing a black skirt that’s short enough to leave nothing to the imagination, and a low-cut shirt. She looks like a fucking goddess, but that’s not what gets my attention. It’s the look on her face that tells me I’m in for it.
Instead of saying anything at all, she sits down on the chair across from me and spreads her legs. Her hand skates down her body slowly until she gets to the bottom of her skirt. She pulls it back and I watch as she slips her hand inside her panties. Her head leans back against the chair, but her eyes don’t leave mine as she starts pleasuring herself, breathy moans punctuating her movements.