Enemies with Benefits

enemies with benefits | 15

Chapter Fifteen: Late Night Touches

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After that entire ordeal with Alexander, I raced back to Daisy, a thousand excuses in my head. However, none of them needed to be used as she didn't even notice I was gone - she was far too concentrated on making out with Tyler.

Knowing my wingwoman duties were complete, I promptly left the bleachers and headed home, which was quite a feat considering I came here in Tyler's car, and I didn't have my own. I did debate whether I should call my dad to pick me up, but then I would have had to explain why my clothes were wet and I didn't have an explanation for that yet.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I'd been trying to for about two hours before I huffed and threw the cover off me and pushed the sheets aside.

It was pitch black in my room, with only the faintest strip of moonlight beaming into the corner of the room. It was cold outside; I could tell from the condensation that blanketed the windows. However, it felt unbearably hot, like I'd just stepped into hell.

Strange. I don't see Alexander.

And in that moment, as the thought of Alexander popped into my head, I felt heat rush to my core, my panties dampening. I grew frustrated at both aspects of this - the mere thought of this guy made me horny, and also I desperately wanted to get laid.

But it was two in the morning, and I couldn't count on Alexander being awake. Plus, even if he was, there was no way I would let him sneak back into my room. The first time we got lucky, but I wasn't about to test my luck the second time.

So I did what any girl in my position would naturally do - I slipped my hand inside my panties and cupped the heat. It was a foreign sensation, but one I gladly welcomed. Aside from a few furtive touches here and there over the years, I hadn't really ever spent much time down there.

I suppose it was one of the many things that comes along with losing your virginity and knowing what it feels like to get action down there.

Even if it's with a guy you would have never picked in a million years.

I stifled my gasp with my other hand as I began rubbing around the area. I knew my cheeks were likely flushed from how hot my face felt.

Suddenly, I slipped a finger inside, my eyes shutting as my head tipped back. I tried imagining a fantasy behind my shut eyes to keep me going - that's what girls did in situations like these, right?

So, from beneath my eyelids, I started picturing somebody else's hands. I went through a candidate list of who I'd prefer to be feeling me up like this, and it didn't take long before I settled on one of the hottest guys I could think of - some nameless guy, with dark hair and dark eyes.

Imagining him made it ten times better, and I felt a flutter of butterflies inside my stomach.

"Is it good?" The imaginary guy said.

A moan threatened to escape, but thankfully my hand was in the way to prevent such a sound from filling the air. The imaginary guy slipped another finger inside, and suddenly the pleasure was ten times better.

I kept waiting to feel my climax coming, to feel some sort of release building up inside me, but there was nothing. It felt really good, but even with this hot imaginary guy inside my head and my fingers pumping at a rate that I lost all coherent thoughts, it just wasn't coming. With every passing second, I could also feel my buzz slowly dying down, like I wasn't enjoying this anymore.

Shit. Am I really that bad at getting myself off? Do I really have to rely on somebody else to get my release?

And just there, at the thought of the very guy I tried dipping down into the hidden part of my thoughts, the imaginary man faded away and Alexander took his place. It was there that I felt my wetness properly coat my fingers, and when I felt longing reach the pit of my stomach.