It was a boost to my ego, and my confidence

I have to admit, I didn’t have much of a plan. I suppose if I did have one, it was already a success. I was in her house. And I felt comfortable here, despite the fact that her man kept finding reasons to be in the kitchen. He needed a drink. He needed a snack. He washed his glass out. He got another drink. But he wasn’t aggressive. It was more like…he was being suspicious. Afraid to leave her alone in here with me. He might be a douchebag, but he wasn’t stupid.

Frankly though, it was getting annoying. Fucking cock block. Didn’t he know I was trying to move in on his girl? Maybe he did know, or at least was suspicious of me. I couldn’t blame him for that. But I could blame him for being such a pest. Even if my motives weren’t improper, it would have been almost impossible to concentrate with him in and out like he was.

She could sense my frustrations, but I didn’t know if she minded his frequent intrusions. Probably not, as they were the only things keeping me from throwing her on the kitchen table, but damn, if it wasn’t getting annoying.

When I realized she wouldn’t say anything to him about it (and really why would she?), I decided to speak up for the both of us.

“How about you get me a drink too, bro?” I asked, smiling, yet adding a touch of prick to my voice. It took a moment for him to realize that I was talking to him. When he did, his eyes darted to mine. I know he didn’t want to, but the politeness that no doubt came from a Christian upbringing of ‘being of service’ finally won the fight against his gut. He didn’t trust me, and I didn’t blame him, but after looking at Miss Laura for a moment, he smiled politely at me and nodded.

“I- …sure,” he said, his voice quiet, timid, although I’m sure he thought it sounded as confident in his manhood as he felt. His eyes softened as he chose the path of least resistance, and then he nodded, adopting a fake smirk, as if to say ‘yeah bro, I got you.’ But I saw his eyes as they looked down rather than at me. I saw that nod for what it was. Submitting to me. Knowing something was up, and still acting like everything was cool. You fucking pussy. I fucking knew it. Tell me to get the fuck out of your house! Take a swing at me! Something!

Soft.

Weak.

That was his chance and he fucking rolled over, bearing his belly like a lesser dog. He turned to open the cabinet door above the sink. I looked at her, sitting on my left, and smiled.

My right hand went to her right thigh as soon as he turned around. She immediately tensed up at my touch, clearing her throat to hide her gasp, but her hand was too slow to move it before I gripped my fingers.

The feeling of her smooth skin, still with that after shower glow, made my bold move worth it. I needed her to know she was mine. But all in good time. She’s realize it sooner or later. I slid my hand up her thigh, staring right into her wide open, terrified eyes. They screamed ‘no’, yet she didn’t make a peep. I smirked at her as I gently squeezed her leg, the edge of her shorts just barely touching my thumb nail as I rubbed it back and forth over her skin..

She had to know how bad I wanted her.

I leaned in quickly and softly kissed her lips. She pulled away and her eyes darted to the back of her fiancé’s head as he filled the glass he got out for me with water. I leaned in again and licked her top lip. She turned her head quickly and shot me an incredulous look of disbelief. She shook her head quickly, her eyes filled with fear. They pleaded with me.

“Maybe you’d like to show me the bathroom again,” I whispered into her ear as she leaned away from me. She made a face of mild disgust, but I didn’t know if she was reacting to what I’d said, or the memory of what happened last Saturday. I could feel how tense her thigh was as I slid my hand even further up, over the top of her thigh as I slipped my fingertips under the edge of her shorts.

“Please,” she whispered, her eyes locked onto Beckett’s back. Please what, Miss Laura? Please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me in front of this sissy ass bitch? Please could mean so many things. When I slid my hand out and off her leg, she let out a quiet breath of relief, but cleared her throat to stifle a startled moan when I cupped my hand over her crotch, touching her pussy through her shorts.

Her eyes darted to mine and then to the back of his head. The faucet turned off and he turned around with the glass. In just about 2 seconds he would see my arm down under the table, and quickly realize what I was doing.

“Thanks, bro,” I said, smiling at him with amused eyes. I pulled my hand away slowly and raised it to take the glass from him. As I took it, I gently placed my left hand down onto her thigh, and kept it there. She was too frozen in place to make a move to stop me. He immediately pursed his lips, too busy trying to hold my gaze to see the look on his fiancé’s face as my fingers started to rub against her. Her hand was around my wrist, her fingernails dug into my arm as she gripped it, too nervous to attempt to pull it away with him facing us.

“I-” he began. Then he looked at her. My heart was pounding. Did he see? Did he see it in her eyes? On her face? Did he see where my arm was, and put two and two together? No, surely not. There was a momentary look of realization in his eyes, like he knew something was off, and for a second it looked like he might say something. Was I wrong about him? I boldly stared at him with a smile on my face.

But, as if his eyes either didn’t believe what they thought they saw, or he simply didn’t know what to do, he simply looked at me. His face suddenly got somber, and his eyebrows subtly wrinkled. I don’t know if she saw it, and I don’t know if he even felt it, but I saw it. It was something I’d seen on his fiancé’s face so many times already. Resignation, and the sweet look of unwilling acceptance.

“Yeah. Of course.” His quiet, low voice and resolve both faltered, and I let out a silent breath. I knew it. All talk. All bark. No bite. I softly squeezed her thigh, the danger of the moment sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through my body. I can’t believe he’s just standing there, eyes cast down like a child who’s being scolded for something.

His eyes rose just a fraction. Just to the edge of the table. He was white as a sheet, eyes wide, and swallowed hard. He had to know. Jesus Christ. He knew he should say something. Do something.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he surprised even me. “Let me know if you need anything else,” he said, his voice distant, as if he was already in the other room. He seemed to nod, but I’m sure it was my eyes playing tricks on me. His eyebrows wrinkled again, and after a few moments, I responded.

“Sure thing, bro,” I said, my confidence soaring to new heights as my left hand started sliding up her thigh. He swayed in place for a moment, then snuck a quick glance at my arm as he turned and left the kitchen.

I smirked for a moment and looked back at Miss Laura. She looked from him to me and back at him, her eyes showing…was that disappointment? Disbelief? Both? My eyes lit up and she looked at me again. I gave her a look that told her what I thought of him, and slid my hand further up her leg.

The look of disappointed confusion on her face was priceless as she watched her fiancé sit down on the couch without even a backward glance. Even I was disappointed in him. What kind of man was he? I removed my left hand from her leg and she moved to push her chair back in a last ditch attempt to distance herself from me, but I held the back of her chair and closed the fingers of my right hand back down around her slender thigh, her smooth skin still warm from my touch a moment ago.

I quickly slid my hand down up the right leg of her shorts and she tensed up, staring at the back of his head, already wearing a pair of headphones and watching a video game screen loading on the tv as my finger touched his girl’s pussy through her panties.

Out of sight, out of mind.