Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
She scooted closer to the wall, and lowered herself onto her side, her hand propping up her head, watching as I crouched down. I set the tray at the base of the opposite wall so that we wouldn’t accidentally bump into it. Then I knelt next to her on the pile of blankets.
“I’m sorry, there’s not enough room for you,” she said.
“I’ll make room.”
It wasn’t graceful, but I eased down next to her, my legs bent since I couldn’t stretch them out all the way. My arm was trapped awkwardly between us, so I freed it and put it up above her head, or tried to, but there wasn’t room. But then she lifted her head, and I slid my arm under it. She rested her soft hair on my bicep, using it as a pillow. Her body tilted toward me, and she tentatively put her hand on my chest.
Her touch was hot, even through my shirt. I placed my free hand on top of hers and squeezed lightly. “This is nice.”
“Yes.” The word came along with the soft exhale of her breath.
Of course, the way her curvy little body was stretched out was more than nice, in my opinion, but she clearly needed a friend at the moment, not a horny man.
“Let me know if you get hungry,” I said. Now that we were lying down together in the dark, I automatically spoke more quietly.
“I don’t want to eat,” she said. And then, after a moment, “And I don’t want to think.”
That surprised me a little. Was she worried about the wedding? The big day was rapidly approaching. I was all too aware of that, since it meant an end to our closeness. “What do you want to do?”
“Not think,” she repeated in a whisper.
There were ways I could help facilitate that. My dick stirred in my pants, clearly with ideas of its own. Tentatively, I stroked her arm. She leaned against me, burrowing into my chest. That gave me access to her back. I rubbed my hand up and down the smooth fabric of her dress. That gave me an idea.
“Would you like a massage?”
She looked up in surprise. “You can do that?”
“Not professionally, but I bet I can help you relax. And if you don’t like it, you can tell me to stop. Or throw pizza rolls at me.”
That made her smile. “I’d like that. The massage, not the pizza rolls. What do I have to do?”
“Just lay on your stomach. We’ll start there.”
She wiggled around on the blankets, settling down on her stomach with her hands bent and under her chest. It didn’t look all that comfortable, but it did give me room to work on her back.
I sat up, positioning myself next to her. It wasn’t ideal, looming over her from the side like this, but I’d make do with what I had. And right now, that was a gorgeous young woman in desperate need of some stress relief.
Her shoulders were so thin that my hands engulfed them. It only took a few seconds of kneading to feel how tight her muscles were. I kept my touch as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt her.
After a few minutes, she let out a moan, which I took as a personal victory. And then while I rubbed my palms up and down the soft fabric of her dress, she relaxed enough to ease her arms out from under her.
That gave me better access to her back and shoulders, but it was still awkward, leaning over her like this. Maybe if she trusted me to do this much, she’d trust me a bit more.
“Can I swing my leg over you, Leila? I won’t crush you or anything, but I could give you a much better massage if I weren’t off to the side like this.”
“Y-You want to straddle me?”
Just the adorably tentative way she said the word made me desperate for her to straddle me, but that wasn’t what she needed right now.
“If you’re okay with it. If it doesn’t work out, again, pizza rolls make good missiles.”
She laughed softly. “Okay.”
Grasping her hips, I slid her more into the middle of her bedding and swung a leg over her. I put my weight mostly on my knees, but still, I could feel her soft ass under me, and the feeling was hard to ignore.
But with a Herculean effort, I did.
“That feels so much better,” she said, her voice content, as I was able to give her a more thorough rubdown.
“I’m glad.”
I leaned forward to knead the muscles of her thin biceps, and the sweet scent of her hair filled my nostrils. Giving into temptation, I plunged one hand into it and began massaging her scalp.
Her moans increased in volume and filled the room, so I figured I was onto something. Her head was to the side, and her eyes were closed. The tension had left her face, and I made a mental note that she seemed to like the neck and scalp massage best.