I’m ready. I dry off and slip into the thin robe she’s chosen for me, and I slip out to the living room.
Becky sits on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in her lap and her bare, shapely legs propped up on a stool. The bowl holds the bottom of an old and oversized tee shirt across the middle of her thighs. Even in the low light the dark outlines of her nipples show distinctly under the threadbare fabric.
And even though I’ve just released my balls in her shower, the sight of her on display like that still stirs a palpable reaction underneath my thin terrycloth robe as I sit carefully on the other side of the love seat.
“Have a nice shower?” she chimes, not quite glancing at my lap.
“I did, thanks. I always find showers here quite… refreshing.” I look over at her and she’s smiling a not-quite naughty smile.
“True,” she prompts, “but you were gone a while; I’d started to wonder.” She dips one hand into the bowl and flicks a kernel of popcorn into her mouth. She chews thoughtfully while her fingers linger at her pursed lips.
“And what did you wonder?” I press, my tone blatantly playful.
“What you were doing in there for so long.”
“Oh. I’d tell you I was remembering our shower together and let your imagination fill in the rest; but really, I was just getting clean.”
“You must be really clean then,” she grins devilishly, casting a clearly speculative glance at my lap.
“You took your own sweet time finishing up that day, I seem to recall.”
“Yeah, but I’m a girl.” She juts her chest out as if for emphasis and the tips of her nipples dance enticingly underneath the thin fabric of her tee. They underscore her point beautifully. Damn! I feel myself hardening again at the sight.
“So that means it takes you longer to get clean?” I venture, still teasing.
“Right.”
“Or to get dirty.”
“Uh huh. I mean no! No fair – you know what I mean!” She slaps my shoulder playfully.
“No, not really; what takes so long?”
“We’ve got hair. And stuff.” She wiggles a bit, making her chest and thighs shudder as if to emphasize her ‘stuff’.
“Well, I hope your ‘and stuff’ came out alright today, then.” I put a hand on the back of the couch and reach behind her to turn the lights down a little bit more.
“What makes you think I showered today,” she teases. “For all you know I’m sitting here just marinating in my own dirty juices.”
An almost inaudible sigh escapes me at the thought of her dirty juices. I cover it with a theatrical sniff at her shoulder, then said, “No. You smell really good. A fresh kind of good.”
She grins at me as I lean back. “Turning down the lights, eh? Are you feeling a little exposed, or are you trying to set a mood?” She casts a not-so-furtive glance at the folds of my robe.
“Well, better to watch the show,” I say. I lean forward and to pick up the remote from the divan and hit. “Besides,” I continue, “I thought it best to be safe. You know, if I get too comfortable…”
“What?” Her lips hang open, frozen in the final curl of the ‘t’. She licks them as they close again.
“Well,” I venture, “you might accidentally get a show.” I snuggle my ass into the couch, testing, and feel the thin fabric of the robe slip around me fractionally.
“You mean I might see your cock?” Again, her mouth freezes on the final consonant, her teeth, tongue and lips wrapped around the explosive “k”.
I prop one foot up on the cushion between us and watch her eyes track to my crotch. “Well, my penis, anyway.”
“Going all Latin on me? ‘Penis’?” Her eyes flick back to my face from my crotch.
“Yeah – you know – you’ve seen a penis before;” I give her the old one-liner straight: “it’s like a cock, only smaller.”
“Well in that case, I guess I’ve seen a few; but not many.” She grins at me with a naughty curl to her luscious lips.
“Really? So modest.” I pretend to turn my attention to the screen, but her bold remark draws me fully back.
“Fact.” She grins at me and her teeth gleam underneath the lambent pools of her eyes. “By the time I get to see them they’re usually nice and hard.”
“Well, mine’s not hard right now.” Not much, anyway. Thanks to the quick release I’d afforded myself in the shower.
“No?” She sounds disappointed.
“Not much,” I half-lie. “But that could change,” I tease, trying to formulate a more suggestive reply.
“Oh. Well,” Becky says ironically, “I’ll have to just try to keep my eyes on the show, then. Just in case.”
“Alright.” Contrary to her words, she continues to stare at my crotch. Apparently the ‘show’ and the movie aren’t the same in her mind. I feel myself stirring under her gaze.
She shifts her butt on the couch and sets the bowl of popcorn down between us, watching as my shaft starts to tent and then emerge from between the folds of my robe. I grow and thicken under in her unwavering stare. The movie has rolled through the title and opening credits, but neither of us bothers to note that the sound is still muted.
She props her far leg up on the leather divan and the hem of her tee-shirt rides up her thigh as she pushes one hand underneath, brushing at herself with her fingertips. I can see the dark curls of her pubic hair glistening around her fingers as they slide into her seam. Her eyes are still locked on my penis as it steadily fills and grows to cock proportions.
She watches me watching her watching me. She blushes slightly. Her nostrils flare.
“Good thing you turned the lights down, then,” she says, “because…”
“Because what,” I prompt.
“Tell you a secret…?” Her fingers probe through her curls and I can smell the bright, delicious scent of her arousal.
“Okay, what?” I keep my eyes on hers in spite of the temptation.
“I’m not wearing any panties.” Yeah. No kidding! Even though it’s no revelation, my cock still throbs at the naughty half-innocent tone as she chuckles in her throat.
“Well, you’ve got a shirt on.” Sort of. “So that’s okay, then. I still can’t see your thing.”
“My pussy,” she teases.
“Yeah, your pussy,” I echo, my cock pulsing at the word and the thought.
“Yes, but if I happened to see your penis… or, huh…,” Her eyes flick to my nearly full erection, the head glistening clearly in the low light. “…or your cock… my pussy might get wet. It gets really wet when I’m turned on… so wet you might hear it squishing.” I hear exactly the wet sounds she’s describing as her fingers play with her lips. “Then I’d be embarrassed,”
Not likely, I thought. “Well, I might not know what the sound was,” I tease.
“I just told you, though,” she replies. Her fingers slip noisily in her folds for emphasis.
“That’s… good to know. I’ll try to keep my cock from popping in to view, then.” I twitch the fold of my robe over my erection, but it still clearly shows as a bulge in the thick fabric. Her eyes show a flicker of disappointment.
“Well that’s good then,” she says, obviously not thinking it’s good at all. “And I’ll try not to notice if it does happen to slip out aga’… I mean if it happens to slip out.”
“I guess we’ll have to hope it’s a good movie then.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes flicker to the screen briefly, then back to my crotch, where the robe is again slipping slowly from my shaft.