Repress it for now

Ethan forces the thought down and out.

It was not something he was going to think about.

A minute later Layla returns, waving her slightly damp hands in the air. “You need to do laundry,” she frowns, taking her spot back. “You have no fresh towels.”

“Yeah,” Ethan blinks, keeping his head in the game. “I’m still catching up.”

“Well, I'll forgive you this time,” she scoops up her glass, swirling it slightly. “If you tell me what you’ve been thinking about all night.”

“What?”

“Mhm,” she takes a sip from her glass, the corners of her mouth curling into a small smile. “Call it a woman's intuition, but you’re clearly struggling with something.”

‘Woman’s intuition?’ Ethan thinks, almost frowning. He shakes the thought from his head. She was a woman.

“I don’t kno-”

“Ethan…” She scoots closer, the distance between them nearly nothing. “Do you think I haven't noticed? The looks…”

Ethan’s face turns white. Is she talking about the bathroom thing just now? {if Peeped =true}Or about him looking at her through the window the other night?{endif}

Giggling, she leans in, her heavy chest shifting, the motion catches Ethan’s eye, which elicits another giggle. “See? You’ve been staring all night…”

A small wave of relief hits him. She’s talking about that. The relief doesn't last long, as while the other thing would have been bad, Ethan was still in over his head. “I-I’m sorry…” Ethan isn't sure what to say.

“Don’t be.” Her smile widens, showing a bit of white teeth. “I like the way I look too.”

Shifting, Ethan feels like a cornered mouse. His back is against the arm of the couch, and Layla is slowly closing in. But, unlike the mouse, Ethan’s fear of the cat is balanced by desire. She’s beautiful. Sexy even. Ethan can’t help but be interested. Even considering…

“You know I didn't lie before…'' Her voice is low, husky. She’s getting closer, sitting fully on the cushion next to him.

“Lie?” Ethan almost doesn't ask, his attention locked on Layla.

“When I said you were cute.”

She leans in, the cat catching the mouse.

Layla’s lips are impossibly soft and plush. Ethan’s eyes flutter, the feeling of her lips against his making his already flighty brain sore. Down below his manhood aches. He’d be hard for a while, but only now does he really feel it. His cock takes command, assuming control from his brain, ordering Ethan’s hand into action.

Layla shivers against him as his fingers find purchase, planting themselves on one of Layla’s fat tits. Heavenly. That’s the word Ethan’s feelings conjure as he grasps it, testing its heft and size. He’d felt a boob before, hell, he’d even felt a large boob before. But hers were in a class of their own.

He parts his lips, deepening the kiss and inviting her in. Despite being involved, she is very much kissing him, Ethan more reacting to her than taking action himself. She tastes like wine, which Ethan doesn't mind, his sense of touch more stimulated than his taste.

Down below fingers trail up his thigh, caressing their way towards hidden stiffness. She finds her quarry, running over Ethan’s concealed cock. Her touch makes Ethan quiver and throb, the wine inside of him making such a simple thing all the sweeter. He’s straining inside of his pants. Eager to burst out and…

Layla pulls away in a huff, pulling her hand away and knocking Ethan’s aside. “I-I,” she stammers her blue eyes wide.

Ethan, mouth half open, hand in a loaf, gives her a confused look.

“I’m sorry…” her eyes well up, tears starting to form. “I didn't mean to…” she stands up quickly, angling her hips away from Ethan, trying to hide. “I need to go.”

“W-wait,” Ethan sits up, watching Layla scoop up the glasses, carefully keeping her hips angled away from him.

“This was a mistake. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She pads over towards the door, awkwardly bending over to retrieve her shoes. “The wine got to my head. I wasn’t thinking. Please.” Standing upright, she glances over her shoulder, unable to face Ethan head-on. “Please don’t think ill of me.”

She’s about to leave.

Maybe forever.