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I close my eyes again, repeating the word 'friend' in my mind like a mantra. It does nothing. My entire body is begging me to touch her and my brain is completely on board, stupid impulsive thing that it is.
Unable to resist any longer, I place my hand on her calf, letting my fingertips trace gentle paths up and down. The immediate response from my body sends my mind reeling. With a single touch, I’m harder than steel. Jesus. I’ve never been so affected by any other woman. One simple brush of her skin and I’m ready to dive dick first into her sacred ocean. But touching her feels right, as instinctive as swimming to the surface for air after a wipeout.
I half expect her to recoil or chastise me. But instead, she shifts, extending her leg across my lap in a silent offer of more.
The realization that she wants this too sends a thrill through me, yet I'm momentarily frozen in surprise. I can't do anything but stare at her beautiful toes tantalizingly close to my cock. I'm not a foot guy, but it's Tilly. Every inch of her is utter perfection. "That felt nice," she says after a moment of my gawking, breaking the spell.
My eyebrows lift as I try to gauge her expression. But the stubborn woman won't look at me. Holding in my smirk, I sit up a little straighter, my chest puffing out. "Yeah? I can keep going," I offer, and she nods, her attention seemingly fixed on the TV as I resume my caresses. Her sigh of contentment as my fingers glide over her skin sets my heart racing.
Eventually, a soft knock at the door signals the arrival of our food. Tilly gets up to retrieve it. The moment she's gone, I shiver. At least I get to see the sway of her delicious hips as she walks to the door. My eyes are glued to her ass as she picks the plastic bag full of takeout off the mat.
As she comes back, I pull her coffee table closer to the couch. It wobbles as I do, and I huff out an irritated sigh. Everything in her place is like that. On its last legs or duct taped together like her couch.
"Til, you got to get some new stuff."
Her jaw drops, and she lets the bag fall onto the coffee table with a loud thump. "I do not!"
I don't allow her objection to deter me. "What I don't get is how you can afford a three thousand dollar drum set, but not a forty dollar table." I gesture to the pathetic thing. "This is begging to be put out of its misery." To emphasize my point, I use one finger to coax the wood to sway.
"Stop that! You'll hurt its feelings," she plops onto the couch next to me and whips open one of the boxes. The smell of cheesy, greasy goodness wafts into the air, and my stomach roars. Reaching for the second box, Tilly slides it just out of my reach. "Hey!" I snip out.
"Apologize," she says, lifting her burger to her mouth. Her plump lips wrap around the bun, and she bites off a third of it. All I can do is stare. What is it with her and food? She's not even trying and its the sexiest thing I've seen, watching her eat.
Swallowing hard, I try to push thoughts of her lips out of my mind. "Tilly, I am very sorry I insulted your gross furniture," I say, reaching for the box again.
She pushes it out further away. "Not to me, to it."
"What?" I chuckle out. She only arches an eyebrow. I flop back and let my arms cross. "I'd rather starve." She shrugs and shoves more of her burger into her mouth. A roar gurgles in my belly, and I glance down at it. With how hard it's protesting, I almost expect to see my shirt moving.
"Stop staring, freak." Her tongue flicks out to lick some ketchup off her finger. Fuck me. If I don't eat the burger soon, something else is suddenly sounding very tasty.
As discreetly as possible, I adjust my hospital sweatpants so my cock isn't making the perfect little embarrassing tent. By the time I'm settled back again, her burger is gone. She grabs the cup of fries and leans back, popping a handful into her mouth. It's so unladylike but so unapologetically Tilly, that I laugh.
"Something funny?"
Shrugging, I let my leg sway back and forth. "Guess I see why you don't like dates, eating like that. It's…animalistic."
She glares at me, then clutches a huge fistful of fries, her eyes never leaving mine. She shoves every single one into her mouth then tilts her head back and lets out an over-the-top moan.
And I'm hard again. The little minx is seriously punishing me and not in the way she thinks. The sound was so erotic that I know I'll explode in my sweats if I don't do something rash. I jump to my feet, surprised at the anger not being able to touch her like I want to has caused. "Goddamn it, Tilly! Let me eat!" I yell. She stands up too and juts a finger at her coffee table. "Apologize!"
Moving around her, huffing and puffing the entire way, I drop to my knees. "Oh Great One!" I start, bellowing as I shut my eyes. "Please forgive my sharp tongue over your stability. You are the master of tables, and deserve an everlasting life in this palace of a one-bedroom apartment."
Opening my eyes, I see her standing over the table, the grin on her lips unmistakably victorious. "Oh, fuck off," I say before snatching my Styrofoam container.
Since my food is inhaled in no less than three-point-five minutes, we don't speak. But after I'm done and she clears our trash, she immediately places both her legs on my lap again as she lies down. I struggle to suppress a smirk, continuing to draw patterns on her skin as we watch the movie. My hand eventually finds a rhythm that feels as normal as breathing, as if this closeness, this intimacy with her, is the most natural thing in the world.
Halfway through the movie, fatigue starts to claim me. It's been a long day, and the ache in my head is a constant reminder.
I allow my eyes to close, my hand still maintaining its gentle rubbing. This moment is strangely reminiscent of how we used to be, comfortably entwined in each other's presence. I smile at the memory. We spent countless nights like this back in Costa Rica, minus the TV or the physical contact, of course. That's new for us, but I fucking love it.
This feels like a return to those simpler times, yet something between us has shifted, deepening into a connection I'm only beginning to understand. I’ve never ventured as far as to touch her, other than that awesome night of dancing.
When I next glance at Tilly, her eyes are closed, the peaceful rise and fall of her chest signaling her rest. A smile crosses my face, and I lay my head back, feeling like this is the perfect ending to a tumultuous day.
Later, unable to ignore the pounding headache any longer, I gently move Tilly's legs and head to the bathroom for some ibuprofen. After swallowing the pills, I catch a glimpse of Tilly moving towards the bedroom. A sigh escapes me, disappointment settling in at the thought of spending the rest of the night apart. I glance at myself in the mirror and chuckle out, "You really thought she wanted you like that? Fucking idiot." Splashing some cold water on my cheeks, careful to avoid the stitches on my forehead, I sigh. It was fun while it lasted, I guess.
Then, her voice, soft and close, breaks the silence. "You okay?" Turning around, I see her in the hallway, arms laden with blankets. "Sorry, I got cold."
