To Ourselves

As the show started, I went further. Her legs were propped out forward onto the coffee table, and I reached over to them. Much like previously, I lifted them, and then maneuvered them over to where she could turn to the side and watch the show, but I could have her feet in my lap.

My hands were about to go to work on her when she shifted. Scooting herself so that her legs went more in my direction, it had the effect of leaving her more prone.

Her hands motioned to my feet. "Here."

A broad grin spread on my mouth and I tilted her way. My legs lifted up from the floor. I maneuvered them over and towards her, coming to rest with one on each of her hips.

Lying there facing one another, I positioned her feet into my lap, too. I loved this, and hoped this could become a routine. Leaving her one foot to rest on my hip, I took her other into my hands. I started rubbing it carefully.

She purred a faux protest. "You're spoiling me."

"You need spoiling."

She was pleasantly amused by this. Her eyes arched. Narrowed. A slow grin.

I ratcheted it up. Asking in a challenging tone, "You do, don't you?"

She pondered some smart reply, as usually she'd just snap right back, but I beat her to it.

"Tell me. Tell me you need it."

Her grin faded to more of a heated look with her lips barely parted. One of my feet rubbed around her hip.

Muted, her words slowly came. With them, her eyes slowly closed and opened.

"I need it."

The moment thrilled me, and my cock jumped in my boxers. Her eyes went right there. When they managed to lift back to mine, she smirked.

"Looks like I'm not the only one."

This brought me to raise up so I could move towards her, but her foot was quick to lift and stop me, going to my chest before I could even leave my place. Her foot pressed to me, sending me back down onto my back on my side of the couch.

With me reclined right back, her foot rested straight down. Right onto my upper thigh. We both looked there. Her delicate foot with nice red nails indented the thin cotton of my boxers, which bulged right next to her foot. My bulge throbbed.

We looked up at each and a moment passed. I loved how absolutely in the moment her gaze was. Never close to peering away.

Her eyes stayed on mine, even though her head tilted up some. Her head adjusted because she repositioned in her spot to send her feet closer over me. She stared at me while her foot moved on me.

Her foot lifted from my thigh, and with the slowest, most deliberate of moves traveled onto the base of me. Lightly it came to touch the hard tent of cotton rising at my crotch.

I couldn't help moaning at that.

Her eyes drifted lower so she could see what she was feeling. Her bare foot first pressed to my shaft. Even with the cover of the boxers, it was clear the ball of her foot had connected at the shaft of my extended cock. Her foot slightly pressed a couple of times, bouncing my hardness back towards me, and the pumping worked my head back and forward.

I cringed at the feel and the realization. Hard as I had ever been, I wanted to cum, but I also wanted to see what she would do here.

She glanced from where her foot touched me and stared into my eyes. The slightest of grins came to her lips, and I forced one back. Feeling her touch me there made my dick as taut as it could be.

Gradually, her foot pressed again there, and then dragged up the bulge. The push brought me to push my hips forward, wanting the friction.

I couldn't help sounding out. An agonized "Ugghhh."

Her delicate red-nailed toes and slender foot contrasted with the light blue boxers that gave easily under her pressure. And the pressure varied, some tight and grinding. Some light and uneven. But her foot moved up and down. Slowly. She toyed with me.

I tried to stay composed, and just absorb the strokes. But I started losing my inhibition with it. My hips began rocking with her to join her pace.

I peered back up at her, and there was something delighted about her face. Lips still parted and eyes wide, she seemed surprised and also a bit triumphant. I was trying to imagine how she felt when she surprised me yet again.

Not breaking into another smile, instead she glared. I felt her other foot move, too. Peering down, her one foot stroked me, and her other drug up onto my stomach like she was bracing or something.

The look of her feet against me, with one at my dick and the other propped up higher was enough to make my blood surge even faster. But as my eyes followed from her higher foot downward to her lap, my view made my head swim.

Her leg cocked up on me caused her thin robe to fall back. The one satin side in particular parted helplessly. Pale, open thigh came into view and the fabric rested at the little curve where her leg met her hip. Right there.

Luckily, my leg outside hers on that side had enough room. I didn't hesitate. All I had to do was bring my leg over hers. It planted against her robe on her side and pushed. The movement took that side of the robe up with it.

Leaving her lap, the robe revealed the swollen vee between her legs and a tight thatch of black pubes atop her mound. Her thighs together obscured some of her.

My eyes lifted to hers, and there was a startled look there. Her foot on me had paused, but didn't stay that way. It regained its steady pace at the same time as her face tilted to the side. When her eyes were off mine, they eased shut, and I felt her hips shift. Looking back down, I could see that she moved her unexposed side away now.

With her legs both apart, her robe fell open. Her pussy fully displayed. The puffed lips had a hint of a shiny glean. Her foot on me now electrified me.

After a long stare and pushing in time to her foot, my face went back up to hers, and she was staring at me again. That burning glare that admitted how she intended this.

Something about that set me over, and my balls tightened. Release was coming, and I couldn't stop it. Suddenly, my cock jerked hard and shot after shot of my cum soaked into my boxers.

Her foot kept going, and it was milking me really well, the pad of her foot grinding the underside of my shaft. My body convulsed and wild spasms fired inside me. Waves of lightness kept cascading as her foot kept working me.

Through squinted eyes, I saw my light blue crotch darken, and a wet spot spread from where I was cumming everything I had. I heard myself groaning hard.

Finally my hand darted to grab her foot, and had to take her off me. As I did, I could feel some dampness on the sole of her foot. I shook from where the orgasm still pulsed away.

I collapsed backwards.

She stood. "Let me get you a towel."

I was still regaining my composure as she hopped up.

Even in the daze of having had this happen, I knew I didn't want to just sit on the couch and clean myself up. I got to my feet, too.

Soon as I made it into the hall, she bounded out of her room. Her eyes went straight down to my crotch. There was a large dark circle matted there.

"Here you go," she smiled nicely.

I immediately start patting the towel to me.

Awkwardly, I spoke up. "I'll be right back."

She scrunched her shoulders up. "I'm going to turn on in."

"But---"

She then mumbled words even she didn't sound like she agreed with.

"That was a good 'one time,' Jake." She smirked.

"No," I was quick back, "that wasn't the one time."

I started to try to talk her out of it, but she swiftly pulled close, pecked my cheek, and then turned away. That thin, cute robe sashayed down the hall.

One last look from her before she disappeared into her room, and she was still smiling.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I muttered back, feeling satisfied, but goofier than I ever had.

...

9.

What a damn mess.

The next day I replayed my awkwardness in my mind over and over. There was how we had both gotten each other off, and that definitely revved me up each time I thought about it. A couple of times I even started to have a go at myself while thinking about it.

But something about standing there in front of her, having already shot my load in my boxers, kept making me cringe.

As it turned out, I got a reprieve of sorts. In the morning, she was out for a run when I got started, and then she was working while I was as well for much of the day. By late afternoon, we really hadn't had interaction.

Around five, I heard her talking to dad. I knew it had to be dad, because there was that firm, clipped tone she had now when she talked to him.

"Yeah, everything's fine."

Some silence passed.

"Yeah?"

He must have been explaining something.

"I'm really covered up with this Anderson project, so---"

Knowing Dad, he was ticked with her putting him off.

Whatever he said next didn't go over well with her either.

Her words fired back sharply.

"No, don't try to come. I've got work. You've got work."

There must have been more chatter on his end, before she finished it off.

"Listen, I'm fine. I've got Jake here, we're just hanging out. Let's just keep it like that this weekend."

The next thing I knew was that I could hear the back door drug open and then closed shut. I got to the kitchen in time to watch her cut a line straight to the walkway, where she headed on out to the beach.

It wasn't until right before I turned in that night that I even talked with her. We spoke, standing in the living room. She didn't seem much like talking.

I didn't push.

My shoulders did a little lift and fall gesture. "Hey, I hope I've given you time and space."

Her eyes flashed a bit like she was surprised.

I clarified. "I mean, I know you've had a lot going on with work."

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, true." Her hand brushed through her hair, her eyes went to the side with a quick thought, and her eyes came back to mine. "It's been crazy."

"Your project going okay?" I truly hoped it was.

"Yeah, "she brightened, "it's actually going well."

There was some sustained look between us that made me feel like I was stripped in front of her. I gave a nervous smile. Her eyes raised briefly like she was being nice, but I got the feeling there was some calculation going on. There was no way of knowing what that was.

It didn't feel like there'd be any wildness happening tonight. "I'm going to turn in."

"Yeah, I still got a lot of work to do."

We tentatively hugged, and I felt even weirder than earlier. As I turned away, she spoke up.

"Listen, these last couple of days have been so intense. I've been going so much I've hardly eaten."

I was thinking what to say to that when she made her own suggestion.

"Since it's the end of the week, let's have a nice dinner tomorrow night. Want to arrange some Italian? Maybe pick-up from Sal's?"

I loved the idea. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Good." Half a step closer, her suggestion together with her move made my blood surge. Her tone lowered. "I knew I could count on you."

My voice softened, too. "Yeah, I can take care of that."

There was that glance to the side from her again and a distracted laugh. A slow closing and opening of her eyes. Then she looked directly at me.

"Good." Her eyes made sure to stay with mine. "I want you to take care of it."

She stared at me in a kind of taunt that I didn't have any words for.

We went to hug again goodnight, and it got awkward. I bumped her forehead with mine.

Before I could own it, she brought her lips to mine in a quick, soft peck.

"Goodnight." Soon as she said it, she turned and went back to work.

I thought about going straight to the beach. Taking a long walk to weigh everything rampaging in my mind. The right thing, the thing I would have done before coming down here this time and isolating with her, would have been to take that walk, and think of my parents. Think of my dad. What the hell was I doing?

But for more than a couple weeks, we'd been to ourselves, and things had happened that there was no undoing. Things that had led up to me seeing something from her I couldn't have ever expected. And that something now had me captured unlike anything else. My body sensed it, and reacted accordingly, even right then.

So instead of taking that long walk, and trying to work out what I should do versus what I wanted to do, I went to my room. Instead of anything else, I focused on her words to me. I want you to take care of it.

My old thinking would have considered this a more innocent playfulness. But I was way past my old thinking. My giddiness at the possibilities gave me my new thinking.

Soon as I was in my room, off came the t-shirt and shorts, and so did my boxer-briefs. Before I had even started on myself, I was tossing around how her words could have been innocent or could have been something else. Suddenly, I realized I had been playing catch-up with her for about the last week. Hell, maybe longer.

My cock was already straining when the actual meaning whirled inside me. I want you to take care of it. The look in her eyes.

I crested right over the top and started jumping from my release, as the true meaning dawned on me. She wanted me to take care of it, alright. She wasn't talking about dinner.

She wanted me to take care of her. She was talking about me fucking her.

...

10.

In the bright morning sunlight, I questioned everything all over again. I mean, how could I not? She had to have been teasing. Maybe flirting. But with the light of day, I doubted she thought in the same terms I did.

As I grabbed some cereal, she was already on her second cup of coffee. We exchanged quick good mornings and smiles. My runaway fantasies from the night before may have made me blush a bit.

I was wondering if she could tell I was tangled up inside when she chose to mess with me some more. I had my cereal ready and was needing some milk. She had settled herself for a sip right in front of the fridge.

Looking right up at me, she didn't budge. There was a blank look on her face, so I held my bowl aloft to signal I needed some milk. Her eyes went to the bowl and then back up to mine.

I gently spoke. "I need to get some milk."

There was finally a slight nod, but instead of sliding to one side, she moved forward. Only at the last moment did she turn some to the side for me to get by. The effect was for me to fully brush her as I took my steps. Her breasts, free under her tee, dragged right across my forearm.

Instinctively, I shot her a disbelieving look. She had to have known I would have brushed her since she didn't move hardly at all. I was still looking back with surprise as I opened the fridge.

Her face tilted sort of down with her eyes arched up, like she was surprised at me.

My mouth fell open.

She smirked and left the kitchen.

I ate my cereal in a daze, and had to talk myself into trying to get some classwork done this morning. All I could think about was getting dinner as nice and as perfect as I could make it.

Of course, my class assignment was a written report on Machiavelli's The Prince. The last thing my confusion needed was reading and thinking about ruthless means to achieve glorious ends. Despite my confusion, I found my report flowed.

After my political science assignment, I launched into writing some erotica. My current dilemma fueled me. But when the momentum had ramped up well, it came crashing down.

My phone was chiming. "Dad Cell."

I made myself answer. "Hey Dad."

I could hear my mother rustle some paperwork back in the dining room.

His tone concerned me right off. "What's wrong with your mother?"

The next-to-the-last thing I wanted was to be talking to Dad this morning. My head wasn't right for it. But the absolute last thing I wanted was to be talking to Dad with Mom clearly able to hear.

It wasn't so much what I might say, but the fact that I was worried with what I would say to him, and how it might sound to her. The scariest part was that I had no clue what to say.

I forged ahead. "There's nothing wrong with her."

His voice tightened. "That's what you said yesterday. Now, today... ."

"What is it?" Now my throat tightened. What had been said? What could have been said that I didn't know about? Surely she wouldn't let on about anything.

"Jake, I told her I was going to come on down this weekend. It looks like everything's loosening-up, so I'd like to get down there."

"Come down here?" I said it probably just a little louder than I should have, but part of me wanted Mom to overhear. Part of me was also pretty panicky. My pitch must have irked Dad some.

"Yeah, come down there. Can't a guy come to the beach for goodness sake?"

I tried to recalibrate. I needed to be very careful. "What did she say?"

As he let out a nervous chuckle and searched for the right words, I got up and drifted over to the kitchen. A couple of steps into the kitchen, and I was able to glimpse my Mom over in the dining room.

Her face lifted to see me a moment---a leveled stare that didn't tell me anything---and then went back to her work.

Dad spoke like he was still incredulous at what Mom aid. "She said she didn't want me coming down this weekend."

I was looking over to Mom when I repeated his words. "She said not to come?"

Mom's face slowly raised at this. There was some unique calmness to her that drew me. My feet carried me from the other side of the kitchen to where the kitchen opened into the dining room. I was basically standing across the dining room table from her, my phone clutched to my ear.

I leaned against the doorframe still facing her. She leaned back in her chair, her arms easily resting out on the armrests of the high-backed chair she was in. She couldn't have looked more relaxed. Meanwhile, my stomach churned.

Dad's voice snapped me back to the call. "What's gotten into her? What's she pissed about?"

"Nothing's gotten into her." I swallowed hard. "I don't think she's pissed."

She slowly shook her head back and forth.

I followed-up on the phone. "No, she's not pissed."

Dad grumbled on the other end. "Well then, there's no reason I shouldn't be coming down there this weekend."

Mom put a hand to her face like she was going to support her chin, and her index finger extended to touch her lip. I didn't think it was intentional, but I did think there was something sensual about it. At least, it felt that way to me.

I spoke carefully into the phone, not taking my eyes from hers.

"I can see where you would say there's no reason you shouldn't come."

She froze at this.

I continued. "But you know, she's been working hard. Totally absorbed in this project. She really has."

A small smile formed at her lips.

Dad snapped his words back to me. "Since when would that have EVER been a reason for me not to come?"

I straightened in place some, and Mom picked-up on it. My tone tightened. "You don't need to be getting pissed with me."

"I'm pissed because I'm being told not to come to my own beach house this weekend. You damn right I'm pissed."

Her direct look at me with slightly parted lips ready to smile did something to me. I was already there probably. But any other time with my Dad being so pissed, so upset, would have prompted me to pitch in with him. This time was different.

With only a couple of seconds to react, and with my eyes locked with hers, I went with what I hoped she wanted.

"Hey, don't be pissed at all. It's not like that. She just wants some down time. You could probably use the same. Let's all just hang where we're at this weekend. That would be best."

A wide smile slowly spread on her mouth, and a warmth flowed in me.