Chapter 13

When a gentle rap on wood wormed into my brain, my eyelids fluttered open. Must’ve missed the alarm. As I opened my mouth to tell momma I was moving, I froze. My pulse raced. Pink was everywhere. A thick fuchsia comforter lay off to one side. Where was I?

No. That couldn’t have happened. It’d only been a dream. Like the one starring Chanelle.

At a soft moan and the press of a petite chassis, I looked down. Beneath her matted blonde mane, Mrs. Jenkins’ long eyelashes parted. Caught in a slanting orange beam of sunlight, her green eyes glistened. After a sticky smack of lipstick-smeared lips, a smile slid across her face.

“Hmm. Hello, baby,” she whispered while shifting a lean, pale leg draped over my dark, muscled thigh.

Nope. Hadn’t been a dream. We’d...

Shivers rippled along my spine at the settling of her velvet, full lips against the skin of my chest. With a whimper, she moved to peel her sticky body from mine. But even as I flashed her a tired smile, I pressed my palm into her sweaty back, holding her in place. With a sigh that sent a searing breath across my torso, she relaxed her leg and mashed against me once more.

At the next tap, this one louder, I looked towards the door and exhaled. As if she were a princess with a scepter, Mrs. Jenkins’ little white fingers gripped my tacky purple-black shaft. Though it had shrunk, it pulsed under her touch. While sucking on her glossy, pearlescent smeared lips, her gaze followed mine to the door.

“Is it bad that I want you again?” As she spoke, her fist tightened, forcing a hiss from my lips. She chuckled. “I’m such a nasty little slut, aren’t I, baby?”

Before I could reply, she stroked upwards with one lengthy twist, and I struggled to breathe. Already surging, my cock flooded with blood. As I nodded, her smile widened, and she shifted her hand to tilt my rod vertical. With her teeth sinking into the gooey sheen atop her shiny lower lip, she gestured at the door.

“Come in,” I croaked while moving matted blonde strands from her face.

When the door eased open, Coach’s pale form poked into the room. But after only a step, he halted with his gaze locked on his wife’s slim white fingers, stroking upwards on my thickening, dusky shaft. With a loud gulp, he scanned her before finding my eyes. Although she was laying still, her heart thundered against my ribs. When her husband took another step, the beat quickened.

After pushing the door wider, he crept closer, carrying a tray. On it, a plate was piled high with sandwiches, a pitcher of lemonade, and two glasses. As she sent ever deeper soft, warm breaths across me, Mrs. Jenkins’ heart rate slowed.

“It was, um, quiet. And I, uh”—his voice hitched when Cindy pushed against my hand to unstick her sweaty frame from me, displaying her shiny, swollen red petals. After a gulp, he took another step and dropped my clothes to a chair before walking closer—”Well, I, um, thought you might be hungry.”

Was he for real? As my heart hammered, I gulped. With his face white—much whiter than normal—Coach’s eyes flicked between her smiling face, the stroking hand, and me. Not gonna lie. As I tensed under his gaze; I was nervous. It wasn’t just Mrs. Jenkins’s steady motions that had me shuddering. At any second, I expected him to yell and fling the tray at my head.

But he did nothing of the sort. Instead, as he came nearer with a blank look on his face, only a slight reddish tinge appeared on his cheeks.

What the heck had been their agreement after I’d left DiGrigio’s? Whatever it was, this unscripted scene was more than I’d contemplated when I’d arrived earlier in the day. Oh, and it was a heck of a lot more than the little play we’d all begun in those dark woods. A bazillion years ago.

At a tug on my root, I looked at Mrs. Jenkins. With a grin, she slid upward to sit against a pile of pillows. With her fist remaining tight to my rod, I gulped and followed her. Once we were sitting next to each other, she twisted her hand, pulling a moan from me. When her husband’s widening eyes flicked to her slender white fingers, she started a slow stroke along my stiffening pole.

“Thanks, dear,” she said while beaming at him and snuggling into me.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, um, Coach,” I mumbled while taking the tray from his quivering hands.

Although I was still trembling, Mrs. Jenkins’ heart rate slowed, driving mine lower as I placed the tray over my chest. There was no way I could manage a smile as broad as hers, but I forced a tight grin.

“Sweetheart, I’m...” After starting to speak, she glanced at me while running the nails of her other hand through my bristly hair. “If you don’t mind, Hiram?” When I shrugged, she returned to her husband. “I’d like Hiram to stay overnight. With me.”

Although my heart sped once more, hers maintained the same slow, steady drumbeat. As she gazed at Coach, he shifted from foot to foot. After his brows knitted several times, he gulped and sighed.

“Hmm, but...” With his mind spinning as fast as mine, Coach glanced at the sheets piled on his side of the bed, her smiling face, and then mine. At that point, I could no longer maintain even the taut grin. Yeah, I looked at my clothes; I was sure he’d flip out at that point. Instead, his shoulders dropped ever so slightly as he found her smile once again. “Uh, um, okay, dear. I’ll, uh ... I can sleep in the spare room.”

“Thanks, Denny.” As she spoke in a soft voice, her heart continued with the same slow rhythm. Mine still sped. “I love you, dear.”

“Love you, too,” he mumbled before turning for the door. “I’ll, um ... I’ll call and let your momma know, Hiram.”

“Thanks, Coach,” I forced out as my heartbeat kept right on thundering.

After a swift nod with his back to us, he stepped from the room and tugged the door closed. With the room wavering, I swallowed. What the hell had just happened? What role was I playing? Were we even still on any kind of script?

At the press of a sandwich to my lips, I’d no chance to ponder further. While I chewed, Mrs. Jenkins pulled her sticky fingers from my shaft to pour lemonade into tall, etched glasses. After handing me a glass, she gestured towards the door.

“You don’t mind, do you, Hiram?” As she turned to me, the glass in her hand shook. “Staying with me. Just tonight. I’ll be all yours to—”

Her voice ended in a hitching moan when my fingertips skimmed a nipple. Still rubbery and tall, they’d taunted me all afternoon. As I nudged them and chewed, her eyes—pulsed. Once more, pure hunger arose in those glittering pools. After a quick look at the closed door, I shifted to face her.

“Mmm, yes. Oh, God, Hiram,” she whispered when my thumb and forefinger pressed together, trapping a thick stem. “Oh.”

Even as she arched into my palm, the sandwich I pushed to her parted lips muffled her moan. Once again, her shaky fingers scrabbled to find my throbbing root. As she clutched at me, air hissed from my lips. Liquid emeralds, her eyes—blazed.

“You’re gonna need your energy.” After another glance at the door, I returned to her with a smile. I’d no idea what we were doing. Nor did I have a clue what was going on in either her or Coach’s heads. But with her fist again stroking me, I wasn’t in a rush to leave. As another squeeze of my digits pulled a muffled whimper from her, my smile widened. “A lot of energy, Cindy, my nasty little white whore.”

With a groan that sent crumbs from her shaking lips, Mrs. Jenkins pushed her chest into my palm. No matter what had already occurred, time shuddered to a halt. Surrounded by more pink than I’d ever witnessed, with the pungent aromas of her syrupy need, stale sweat, and my dried cum tickling my nose, the scene was surreal.

As her fist rose and fell and I played with her nipples, we fed each other, pausing only to sip lemonade. In the dim light, the pink room sorta wobbled. Alight with green fire, her eyes blazed as she kept glancing at my thick, throbbing pillar. Each time she’d return to me, but I’d only smile. Which said a lot about my acting ability. Several times, I’d been on the verge of detonating, and only the quick recounting of baseball scores saved me.

After we’d finished the lemonade, I placed my empty glass on the tray. As I lifted hers away, Mrs. Jenkins’ fingers shook. Once I’d shoved the tray aside, I eased back on the pillows. With a sigh, I clasped my hands behind my head. When she started to lift her leg over me, my pulse thundered in my ears. For a split second, I tensed, ready to stop her.

But I didn’t move. Instead, I sighed again and smacked my lips.

“Has this ever happened to you before, Cindy?”

At my words, Mrs. Jenkins froze with her leg in mid-air. As the room wobbled again, she ran her flickering tongue around her glossy, streaked lips. After a quick glance at my near-vertical pulsating rod, she returned to me. With a smile, she raised further to clear my shaft and straddled me. Even though her fingers were gentle, air flew from me at the suddenness of their sliding grip.

“No, Hiram. No. None of the others...” She looked at the closed door before sighing and returning to me. “Nothing like this. Ever.”

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