Chapter Nine: Hot, Sweaty and Uncomplicated
1190words
2024-10-15 08:55
Phoenix
I was a bit puzzled by Robyn's reaction to the dirty dishes.
I also thought it was a little disturbing how her mother always seemed to belittle her at every opportunity. I can't remember the last time I saw Jack wash the dishes, but for some reason he seemed compelled to roll up his sleeves and take his place at the sink. He worked together, side by side with Robyn, silently until the last of the plates were dried and stacked away neatly in the dish-strainer.
Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to be close to her.
Jack liked to pretend that he was above any kind of emotional attachment, but I saw the way he was acting. Other people might not notice it, but as his twin, I certainly did.
I shut myself in my room upstairs and opened my laptop. I began writing and answering emails, scheduling them to send first thing in the morning. My job was demanding, always. I had no time to waste on cultivating a serious relationship, which is why I hadn't had a steady girlfriend since my freshman year of college. When I had an itch, there was always someone ready and willing to scratch it.
So why on earth was I even thinking about the girl in the next bedroom? What was it about her that had me so fascinated? So distracted? Why was there a smile on my face when I saw the clock in the lower corner of my desktop roll over to 9:00 PM.
I shut the cover of my computer and went to my door. I paused for one moment, asking myself if this was really a good idea? We were just fooling around Robyn probably didn't even expect me to hold up my end of the wager. But I'm a man of my word, so I stepped down the hallway and rapped lightly on her closed door.
"It's open," I heard her call, slightly muffled by the door.
I opened it slowly, and swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry at the sight of her. She was wearing a pair of leopard print pajamas, her long pale legs beautifully on display under the hem of the lace-trimmed shorts. The matching camisole top was held up on her shoulders by thin spaghetti straps, and the way she was seated, leaning forward on her bed, I had a perfect view down the top of it, into the delectable valley between her perfect breasts.
Her eyes must have tracked the line of my gaze, for she sat up abruptly and adjusted her top to make sure it was modestly covering all her naughty bits. She had her laptop open on the bed and a half-dozen papers randomly scattered around her. She seemed confused and surprised to see me at the door. "Can I help you with something?"
I raised my eyebrows. "I owe you a foot massage, right?"
Her lips formed a surprised little "O". She took a moment to shake herself from her surprise and started picking up her papers and stacking them together. "You don't really have to do it, you know. It was just a game."
"Really? Because if I had won, I was totally going to hold you to it. You got some lotion?"
"What?" She was busily stuffing things back in her side-table drawer, I don't think she was even listening to me.
"Hold on," I went to the bathroom and rifled through the cupboards, until I came up with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion that I had never opened. I flipped open the top and took a sniff. "Not bad," I commented as I squirted it into my hands. "Okay, give me a foot."
She looked at me like I had gone insane. "You really want to do this?"
I gave her a sexy smirk. "You never know. Maybe I have a foot fetish."
"Oh my god," she pulled her feet up closer to her body. "That's so gross."
"Come on, I'm all greased up here," I made grabby motions with my hands. I squinted my eyes at her. "Don't tell me you are shy?"
"I am not shy!" she spit the word out as if I had just accused her of something disgusting. "Okay fine." She flopped down on her back and offered me one of her feet.
I took her small appendage in my hand and started kneading the balls of her foot, working the lotion into her soft skin. She was so delicate and pale, I could see the blue veins beneath her skin, but they weren't blue. They were purplish, colored by the blood greedily rushing beneath the surface. I looked up at her face, to see if she was enjoying it.
She was up on her elbows, watching me suspiciously, as if she was afraid that at any moment, I might violate her foot by sucking her toes or something. "Try to relax," I told her in a low voice. "You are supposed to be enjoying this."
I know that I was enjoying it, probably more than I should have. I didn't even realize she had dropped back onto her pillows until I noticed her eyes had closed and her breathing had slowed. I was glad that she had decided to trust me, it just made my job so much easier. I couldn't resist flirting with her a little. "See, this is nice, isn't it?" I worked my fingers in between each of her toes, drawing a gratifying moan from her lips.
That moan made my cock twitch. I set that foot aside and moved on to the other one. I made slow circles across the heel of her foot, then dug my fingers into her arch, the pressure making her sigh and moan a little again.
Since we both seemed to be enjoying it so much, I let my hands creep up to her ankles. She had delicate, bony little ankles, just before they gave way to a slim, muscular calf. She flexed her foot lazily, and then jerked, as she suddenly realized that I had worked my way well past her foot and was now applying lotion to the tender skin of her inner knee.
"Whoa cowboy, that's enough. Just the feet, remember?" She sat up abruptly and pulled her feet back underneath her.
"I was just using up the extra lotion," I said innocently. I snapped the cap of the lotion closed and left it on her dresser. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Same time."
I didn't even let her say anything before I breezed out of her room and shut the door behind me. I just left her on the bed, blinking after me like an owl. I blew out a big breath as I made my way back into my own room. I looked down at my crotch, my cock standing at attention, practically begging.
I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through my contacts. I knew what I needed. I needed sex, pure and simple. Something hot, sweaty and uncomplicated. I pulled up Christina's number and sent her a text.
I was a bit puzzled by Robyn's reaction to the dirty dishes.
I also thought it was a little disturbing how her mother always seemed to belittle her at every opportunity. I can't remember the last time I saw Jack wash the dishes, but for some reason he seemed compelled to roll up his sleeves and take his place at the sink. He worked together, side by side with Robyn, silently until the last of the plates were dried and stacked away neatly in the dish-strainer.
Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to be close to her.
Jack liked to pretend that he was above any kind of emotional attachment, but I saw the way he was acting. Other people might not notice it, but as his twin, I certainly did.
I shut myself in my room upstairs and opened my laptop. I began writing and answering emails, scheduling them to send first thing in the morning. My job was demanding, always. I had no time to waste on cultivating a serious relationship, which is why I hadn't had a steady girlfriend since my freshman year of college. When I had an itch, there was always someone ready and willing to scratch it.
So why on earth was I even thinking about the girl in the next bedroom? What was it about her that had me so fascinated? So distracted? Why was there a smile on my face when I saw the clock in the lower corner of my desktop roll over to 9:00 PM.
I shut the cover of my computer and went to my door. I paused for one moment, asking myself if this was really a good idea? We were just fooling around Robyn probably didn't even expect me to hold up my end of the wager. But I'm a man of my word, so I stepped down the hallway and rapped lightly on her closed door.
"It's open," I heard her call, slightly muffled by the door.
I opened it slowly, and swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry at the sight of her. She was wearing a pair of leopard print pajamas, her long pale legs beautifully on display under the hem of the lace-trimmed shorts. The matching camisole top was held up on her shoulders by thin spaghetti straps, and the way she was seated, leaning forward on her bed, I had a perfect view down the top of it, into the delectable valley between her perfect breasts.
Her eyes must have tracked the line of my gaze, for she sat up abruptly and adjusted her top to make sure it was modestly covering all her naughty bits. She had her laptop open on the bed and a half-dozen papers randomly scattered around her. She seemed confused and surprised to see me at the door. "Can I help you with something?"
I raised my eyebrows. "I owe you a foot massage, right?"
Her lips formed a surprised little "O". She took a moment to shake herself from her surprise and started picking up her papers and stacking them together. "You don't really have to do it, you know. It was just a game."
"Really? Because if I had won, I was totally going to hold you to it. You got some lotion?"
"What?" She was busily stuffing things back in her side-table drawer, I don't think she was even listening to me.
"Hold on," I went to the bathroom and rifled through the cupboards, until I came up with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion that I had never opened. I flipped open the top and took a sniff. "Not bad," I commented as I squirted it into my hands. "Okay, give me a foot."
She looked at me like I had gone insane. "You really want to do this?"
I gave her a sexy smirk. "You never know. Maybe I have a foot fetish."
"Oh my god," she pulled her feet up closer to her body. "That's so gross."
"Come on, I'm all greased up here," I made grabby motions with my hands. I squinted my eyes at her. "Don't tell me you are shy?"
"I am not shy!" she spit the word out as if I had just accused her of something disgusting. "Okay fine." She flopped down on her back and offered me one of her feet.
I took her small appendage in my hand and started kneading the balls of her foot, working the lotion into her soft skin. She was so delicate and pale, I could see the blue veins beneath her skin, but they weren't blue. They were purplish, colored by the blood greedily rushing beneath the surface. I looked up at her face, to see if she was enjoying it.
She was up on her elbows, watching me suspiciously, as if she was afraid that at any moment, I might violate her foot by sucking her toes or something. "Try to relax," I told her in a low voice. "You are supposed to be enjoying this."
I know that I was enjoying it, probably more than I should have. I didn't even realize she had dropped back onto her pillows until I noticed her eyes had closed and her breathing had slowed. I was glad that she had decided to trust me, it just made my job so much easier. I couldn't resist flirting with her a little. "See, this is nice, isn't it?" I worked my fingers in between each of her toes, drawing a gratifying moan from her lips.
That moan made my cock twitch. I set that foot aside and moved on to the other one. I made slow circles across the heel of her foot, then dug my fingers into her arch, the pressure making her sigh and moan a little again.
Since we both seemed to be enjoying it so much, I let my hands creep up to her ankles. She had delicate, bony little ankles, just before they gave way to a slim, muscular calf. She flexed her foot lazily, and then jerked, as she suddenly realized that I had worked my way well past her foot and was now applying lotion to the tender skin of her inner knee.
"Whoa cowboy, that's enough. Just the feet, remember?" She sat up abruptly and pulled her feet back underneath her.
"I was just using up the extra lotion," I said innocently. I snapped the cap of the lotion closed and left it on her dresser. "I'll see you tomorrow night. Same time."
I didn't even let her say anything before I breezed out of her room and shut the door behind me. I just left her on the bed, blinking after me like an owl. I blew out a big breath as I made my way back into my own room. I looked down at my crotch, my cock standing at attention, practically begging.
I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through my contacts. I knew what I needed. I needed sex, pure and simple. Something hot, sweaty and uncomplicated. I pulled up Christina's number and sent her a text.
