58: joe says: time to fall in love

95 10 83
                                    



            Joe jolts up on the sofa, her focus leaving the telly for the first time in... I'm a bit too dazed to know the time right now, but in a while, because the only Doctor Who I've been watching is what reflects in her eyes and I'm pretty sure it's been several episodes. On second thought, I probably shouldn't be staring at her so much. What if she noticed? Or maybe she's too tired to pick up on that. Yeah, let's hope that. But I'm still staring–

'I have an idea.'

Her eyes are so big. As is her smile, the gems glistening in the evening light. I wish I could see it every day for the rest of my life. I'm the luckiest person alive to have gotten to see it every day this week.

I blink my mind into focus. 'Alright.'

'Since you won't let me touch you yet, I thought we could touch ourselves.'

Oh... I push myself onto my elbows. 'Like, split up?'

'No, it wasn't a euphemism. We can masturbate together.'

Turning off the telly, Joe moves to straddle my lap and my mouth dries. My charity shop sofa isn't exactly large but it works perfectly well for us to spend our free Saturday on, as proven by the condom wrappers that litter the rug. I'd hope to have a semblance of maturity, but I start to harden as soon as Joe's thighs press to my sides.

They're squeezed by the spandex of the biking shorts she's wearing with my hoodie, a horrible fucking invention if I may say so. Just zero fucking access, innit. Have to wrestle them off every time—might as well wear a chastity belt. But fuck, do they make her thighs look biteable.

This time I don't stop staring even when Joe says my name in a "my eyes are up here" voice.

'I think I'm getting hungry again.'

She pulls my hands off before they land on her hips. 'I'm withholding the assets until you let me explore your assets–' The words strangle in her grimace. 'Gross. I don't know why I phrased it like that. Erase that from your brain. But, Nikki, I want this to be mutual. You're not my personal sex slave.'

'No fair.' I lean up, align my face with hers, and drop my voice. 'What if I want to be your personal sex slave?'

Joe dodges my come-on. 'Why don't you like it?'

My eyes seek hers despite the warnings from my brain. The brown catches the evening sun that gets through my absolute shit living room blinds and her gaze drips onto me like tree resin, sticky and healing. It trickles into the fissure cracking in my chest again.

'It's just...'

Question: How can I be on the verge of tears and have a semi at the same time? Also: Sex is not my problem! Sex is her problem. That's what this whole friends-with-benefits thing were about, that I'm good at sex.

'I can do it myself.' I drop my head back, allowing my neck to bend over the backrest and a groan to roll out. 'You fuck me all the time. That's you pleasing me.'

'Doesn't count: that feels good for me too.'

'Why is it so important to you?' I ask though I've not already asked this at least twenty other times.

This time, though, Joe's answer is short: 'Because, Nicolás, I want to make you come.'

My stare nails to the ceiling.

She grinds against the once-again hardening erection in my joggers, tracing her thumbs on either side of my exposed neck. 'I love fucking you but I want to be able to focus on the way you come apart just for me.'

NIKKI & JOE, CASUALLY | ✓Where stories live. Discover now