Chapter 245
The painting was three only for you to tell stories to the children as they greint when they are done with the room they there isgether, when they get too big, paint over the room. Let them move on, let younell move on. You dont need the painting anyeure ||
I’m putting that picture up of Clayton and me so you have something to focus on I want it to beinat your put becaine I love him more, and in the end, it’s his hand I want to hold on my way
to the Moon, not your
When it doesn’t burn at your put anymore to look at it, you are ready for someone else. Tou’ve let me go, and that’s all I really want. You deserve to the love and he loved in a way that 1 could never give you or want to give you
Remember, I will always choose him, not you
The sound of the shower wakes me. The sun isn’t oven up yet as I slide out from underneath the bed with d
clinging to the bones of my spine. Tonight, I’ll try again. I mand to e
My room is dark, and so is the bathroom, but the door is cracked slightly, and I can make our Cassius just enough through the shadowed glass to see the hard outline of his body
This isn’t appropriate but this is the first time vetern Cassina completely stripped out of all the layers he usually wears I’ve seen males walk around withour dothes. Eve seen males after their shift but this
Cassius is put more…
Soap is being lathered between his hands. I can see the movement of him during his neck, his chest, working along the line of his torso. More soap is Lathered. He bends, clearing his thighs and lower legs. He runs his hands up his thighs again and stops in an area that holds the maleness of his scent. A rush of broath is pulled in from his mouth just underneath the noise of the shower. My breath also becomes a quien race out.
Narrowing my eyes. I try to bring more of him into feces from the shadow of the glass shower. If he were to come out, I’d be standing here, guilty of spying on him. What would be say to me? I should leave, and back underneath the bed, but I don’t leave my spot; in fact, I creep up a dew inches closer I want to make more of him out, not just the outline of movement.
This n’t right, yet I make no effort to move.
Another low moanjum below the fall of water, his one hand is pressed against the rule. Warm water is felt coming out of the room like a summer beach on my skin. ||
What would he say if I joined him? Open the shower door, earth him with his hand around his cock? Would he stop what he’s doing? Would be touch me? What would happen if I slide i glan back and step int
The water keeps pouring, and I keep standing here, unable to move. A heat spreads below my mound; a slickness stams. I foal myself growing sick with the way his low sounds barely make it out from underneath the spray of the showerhead. []
A part of me wishes td be caught by him. Another part would be mortified.
He never notices me when I want him with my ruby warrings in. He only notices when I struggle with training or when Tula vraty thess from pulting weeds in the garden, When that stupid goouched me through the yard and he yelled for me to get Jam. He never notices the important parts, the red parts of me that showed him I was wailable He never noticed the timest gathered my hair up at the top of my head to expose those earring;| never even glanced in the direction of me. Never
I want to touch myself the way he’s touching himself right now. I can hear his breathing becoming lower, his body shaftung, another quiet noise from his throat. His shoulders curl, head angled down
The space between my thight is warmer now, the slickness pressed into the conton of my underwear. My nipples are sensitive, and I reach up to squeeze one of my my hand, wishing it was his big hand that palmed me through his shirt. Thighs can’t handle the weight of all this they shake now
breasts th
that barely fit in
A whimper escapes through the sound of the water. His body stills, no more movemer before the now roldness of the shower hits me in the face, he’s turned it on to freezing cold. The water stops, and 1 back up into his room, slip underneath the bed, and hold my breath until he dresses and leaves as quietly as he can
The minutes are counted, one, two, three I make it to ten before I come out, dash for my room, and look in the shower, imagining I was in these with him. I’m on edge, ready to explode. The coldness of the room does nothing to stop the fire in my belly from growing
