“It’s okay.” He hesitated. “You can rest your feet on my lap if you want.”
Now, that was bold. “You don’t mind?” I asked.
“It’s fine,” he said, meeting my eyes for only a second before quickly looking away.
I took the opportunity. “Thanks,” I said, placing my feet on his legs, his flannel pajama pants soft under my skin. “My ankles have been killing me lately. Maybe it’s all the walking I do to and from campus.”
It was the worst excuse in the world, but he seemed to believe me.
“I can massage them, if you like.” He flushed. “I mean, I’ve been told I’m good at massages.”
“Would you? That’d be amazing.”
He nodded and shyly touched my feet He began at the soles, rubbing against the arch, then ran his fingers up to my ankles and rubbed them gently, yet firmly.
I let out a contented sigh that was only half-forced. He actually was good at massages. “So good,” I murmured, and let my legs part slightly, my dress riding up.
Ben’s grip on my feet tightened so hard, I winced. “Ow. What the hell?”
He was staring at my thighs. No, correction: he was staring at my bare, exposed pussy. His mouth opened and closed before suddenly he was pulled back to reality and let go of me like I was a burning stove. “S-sorry,” he said.
He glanced at my exposed sex once again, like he couldn’t help himself. “Juliet,” he said, sounding pained.
“Hm? Is something wrong?”
He ripped his eyes away to meet my gaze. A hundred conflicting emotions passed over his face. “No. Nothing,” he said eventually.
I tapped my feet against his leg. “Why’d you stop? That massage was good. Keep going.”
He hesitated. I could see a pink flush expanding across his neck. “Alright.”
“Do my legs,” I said.
He nodded, taking my calves in his hands and rubbing firm circles, his fingers pleasantly warm against my skin. It did feel really good, and feeling his hands on me…I was getting aroused for real.
“Higher,” I said, moving closer to him, spreading my legs wide enough I could feel the cool air of the room against my hot core.
To his credit, he didn’t react, except for the bob of his Adam’s apple, and the firming of his jaw.
After five minutes, I had moved close enough that I was almost in his lap. His hands were on my thighs, though his grip was tighter than usual.
I suppressed a smile and casually pulled up the hem of my pajama dress, so it pooled around my upper thighs, and let out a contented sigh. “That feels so good.”
He swore under this breath, so quiet I barely heard it, and abruptly let go of me. He sat on his hands, which, in any other circumstance, would be kind of adorable.
“Juliet,” he said, voice weak and raw. “Stop it.”
I blinked innocently. “Stop what?”
“You’re…you’re teasing me.”
I stretched my legs out, feeling the bulge of his erection underneath my knee. His thick cock, straining in his pants…the thought of it alone gave me a thrill.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I murmured.
What happened next happened so quickly, I barely had time to comprehend it. Ben moved, shifting my body like it weighed nothing. I found myself leaning against the couch with Ben was kneeling on the floor, between my spread legs, gripping my thighs so hard, I was sure he’d leave bruises.
The idea didn’t piss me off. In fact, it was kind of hot.
