Blake Crosses A Line

Blake has his hand on my ass, his grip squeezing me slowly again and again and again. Blushing now firmly in my cheeks and the tops of my chest I close my eyes to try to gain some kind of purchase, but all sense and reason is eluding me now.

All I can think about is how that kiss took my breath away. How good his hands feel on me. How much I want to feel more. And all the litany of other times that he has touched me, that he has made me angry, that he has driven me to do things that I never in a million years I would have done.

All I can think about is how right he is. I hate him, and I'm feeding off of it.

"Stop it," I say stiffly.

"Stop me," he coos in my ear, leaning over and, in turn, getting a more thorough handful of me, "Just stop me. Just put your hand in mine and take it off my body. Stop me, and I'll walk away."

"You won't," I protest, weakly.

"But I will," he promises, "Emily. Do you remember what I told you that first night?"

Shuddering now, I shake my head.

"I'm a good guy," he says, "I may not seem like it, but I am. I'm not going to **** you to endure something you don't want, but I will push you if I think it'll help.

"And the truth is that I think you do want this. I think you want my hands on your body. I think you want to be this close to everyone and acting so indecently. I think you want my hands on your body."

I whimper, the only thing that I can do. Because everything he said is true.

Blake might be a lot of things, but he would respect my wishes if I insist. Yet even knowing that I can't bring myself to stop him, to take his hands away and give myself some peace.

"Anyone could see," I protest weakly.

He chuckles softly, so only I can hear, "That's the point."

The group moves forward but not far. We cross the street and go down the road and turn right into a cramped little space that makes us squeeze in a little more but the dynamics of the group, the spaces between us, maintain the same.

Which means that even though we're pushed in here, people can see even less of us.

"Oh god," I say, "Fuck."

"Already?" he cracks wise, "I figured three more encounters at least before I have you pushed up against something moaning while you take my cock. But hey, if you're ready right now."

My body is on fire. My head dizzy as my hands curl against the upper part of my thighs and I feel myself respond. Out of my own control and practically panting as he moves me sideways so that I'm trapped between the wall and him.

Slowly his other hand creeps over. Subtle and out of notice he plays along my hip and then up, snaking under my shirt as he inches moment by moment up my body.

I bite my tongue to keep from making any noise. My heart pounding with fear as my eyes go wide while I watch the group to make sure no one is looking back.

This could ruin me. Standing here so close to everyone letting myself get felt up by the guy who was just humiliated by Rachel. All of them knowing that I was consenting to this, the blush in my face making it clear that not only did I want it, I was enjoying it.

My eyes fall on Rachel who is whispering animatedly with Eddie. At least that's a spot of good news, the two of them thick as thieves while he points off and up and she follows, leaning into him a little and I see him blush a bit at that, his hand starting to tremble as she seems to involuntarily press her body against his.

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