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“What if I told you to stroke my cock?” he asks me.
I shudder as I consider touching his bare rod. I’ve never seen a penis in person before, let alone had my hand on one, but I don’t want this game to end so I ask, “Are you telling me to stroke your cock?”
He reaches down to unzip his jeans and I hold my hand out, but the door opens abruptly and I hear my father shout, “Why is it so dark in here?”
I spin around but can’t seem to decide what to do next. Do I run out of the room and keep going until I reach the end of the world? What do I do here and why do I feel like a little girl who’s about to be grounded for life?
Scott stands up and moves behind his desk. He sits down and says, “I was just packing up to head home. I’m glad you stopped by, though. I wanted to tell you what an excellent job Skylar did on her first day in surgery. She has an amazing bedside manner as well,” he winks at me as he says it.
“That’s good. I’m happy to hear it. Congratulations, Skylar. Now, why don’t you let Dr. Statton go home? I’ll buy you dinner in the cafeteria to celebrate,” my father replies.
Deflated, I look at Scott as if I’m expecting him to say something so my father will leave and let me stay, but all I can see is anger in his eyes. I know that if he says anything, it will likely make things worse for both of us so I roll my eyes and say, “Thanks again, Dr. Statton. I can’t wait to do this again tomorrow.”
“Are you alright, Skylar?” my father asks me on the way to the cafeteria.
“Oh, yeah. It was just a very demanding shift and I’m worn out,” I tell him but the truth is that I’m having difficulty shaking the endorphin rush that I got from Scott’s last order. I feel like a kid counting down the hours to Christmas morning hoping that the game will begin again.
We sit down at the cafeteria table and my phone goes off in my pocket. I slip it out and see that I have a message from Scott. It reads, “I can’t wait until tomorrow. Look for me in the parking garage.” I nearly choke on the excitement, forcing it down so my father doesn’t see.
“I have to run an errand so I’ll be late coming home,” I insert casually between hurried bites of macaroni and cheese.
“You said you were exhausted. Can’t it wait?” he questions me.
“No.” I won’t wait. I can’t refuse an order.
“Well, you need to be in top form tomorrow. I suggest you get to bed as early as possible.”
“Yeah, I hope to be in bed very soon,” I wipe my mouth with my napkin so that he doesn’t see my smile.
5
CONTINUING THE GAME
SCOTT
Iwatch Skylar follow her father out of my office and slam my fist down on my desk. She almost had my dick in her hand and I had plans, big plans for what was going to happen next. Presley is becoming an expert cock blocker and I’m afraid that if this continues, my boss's face may be the next thing that I slam with my fist.
The idea of stroking my own cock again crosses my mind. I can’t keep walking around with this painful, perpetual hard-on, but she was so close that I don’t think my hand will provide me the kind of satisfaction that I crave. No, she hasn’t left the country. She’s on the first floor of this building. This separation doesn’t have to be the end of the evening. It’s simply an intermission. It’s an agonizing, cock-throbbing, painful intermission.
I pick up my phone and text her that I’ll be waiting for her in the garage then check the time. I decide to give her thirty minutes for dinner and then go downstairs to wait for her.
The garage is quiet. The day shift and all of the administrators and office workers have gone home. I sit in my car and watch the clock on the radio, growing more impatient with every change of the numbers. At the ten-minute mark, I begin to wonder if she’s avoiding me. She didn’t reply to my text so maybe I scared her off. No, she was deep into the game and enjoying every second of it.
The elevator doors open and Skylar steps out onto the cold, gray concrete. My primal instincts tell me to hop out of the car and rush to her, but I hold back and watch her as she moves. Her walk is like a subtle dance of swaying hips and perfectly placed steps. She must turn heads just crossing the street.
God, I don’t just want this girl. I need her and the need is so deep that it’s consuming every inch of me.
She arrives at her car and I flip on my headlights, illuminating her in the crisp, white light. She shields her eyes and strains her neck to see if it’s me, so I turn them back off and wait for her to cross the lot. Come to me, little girl. I need to touch you, kiss you, and feel the tension of your desire rise and spill from you like a wave of lust fit to drown me.
I reach over and open the passenger door. She climbs inside and turns to speak, but I grab her by the back of the head and erase her words with my hungry tongue. Her chest rises and falls like she’s just run a marathon, and I slide my free hand under her shirt and fondle the beautiful tits that bounced and teased me as she crossed the garage. I could kiss her forever but I promised my dick relief so I let her go and say, “I told you to stroke my cock.”
She looks down at the erection that’s pressed tightly against my jeans and watches as I open my pants and set it free.
“It’s so big,” she mutters, then looks away as if the thought escaped through her lips before she could stop it.
“Touch it,” I command her.
Her hand moves tentatively as if she’s about to pet something dangerous. She is. Lightning strikes my soul when her fingers make contact with the sensitive, red tip and it spits a tiny amount of moisture onto her skin. She gently traces my length with a look of astonishment on her innocent face.
