Jesus, this isn’t helping at all.
My body tenses, my shoulders practically kissing my ears, and my hands fall to her thighs, trying to get her to slow down so I can catch my breath.
“That’s it,” Heaven says. “Just like that, Lonnie, keep pace.” Slowly, Heaven backs away and moves toward the center of the group. “Don’t falter, Lonnie, keep moving as you are.”
Lottie nods and then glances down at me. “Trying not to get hard?”
“You’re full of yourself,” I whisper.
“After last night, I’d have a hard time believing this right here isn’t getting you hard.” She continues her pace.
“I’m not a teenager. I know how to control myself.”
“Okay,” she says, then takes her hand that was in her hair and places it on my lower stomach. The shift in position angles her just enough to allow for better friction. She picks up the pace and grinds down on me after lifting, hitting my cock in just the right spot. A wave of heat spikes through me as my cock starts to stir.
My jaw clenches down, I try to attempt to blur her out, to not make eye contact, but every time she angles up, I catch a glimpse of the lacy, dark green bralette she’s wearing, and that’s not helping the cause.
“I don’t remember our conception,” Lottie says and makes eye contact with me. “But I sure as hell remember last night and how hard you made me come.”
Fuck.
I’m gone and she knows it, because she grins as she drives against me.
“Mmm, having your fingers deep inside me like that.” She wets her lips. “I wanted more.” She leans forward and, looking me dead in the eyes, she says, “I got off again with my vibrator, because that’s how much you turned me on.”
Fucking hell. My cock swells beneath her, and a satisfied smile crosses her face.
“There you are. Payback is a bitch, Hanley.”
I grind my teeth together, my cock begging for more from her.
“Remember that, because this isn’t over,” I say while she continues to pulse over me, making me harder and harder until . . .
“Okay, let’s get into another position.” Heaven claps her hands.
The tension in the room is palpable, and as everyone disengages from their partners, I realize very quickly from the shift in the room, I’m not the only one turned on.
But it’s the sight to my left that really has me rethinking all of my decisions. Standing tall and proud, hands on his hips, is Dave, with a massive erection poking against his pants.
Jesus. Christ.
An image I know I’ll never get out of my head.
Nope, Dave is apparently claiming his territory, letting everyone in the room know . . . he’s the boner champ.
I don’t know if I should clap, act horrified, or go wash my eyes out with bleach when I get home.
Most likely . . . the latter.
Huxley: I saw Dave’s boner.
Breaker: Uhh . . . what?
JP: Please tell me you aren’t the one who gave him a boner. I’m all about doing whatever it takes, but, man . . . come on.
Huxley: All I have to say is pregnancy class gone wrong. We had to simulate procreating. There was pulsing.
Breaker: You and Dave had to pretend to procreate? Dear fuck, who was pulsing?
JP: My guess is Dave was pulsing into Hux.
Huxley: No, JESUS. We were practicing with our respective pregnant women.
Breaker: Ohhh . . . does that mean you pulsed into Lottie?
JP: Things just got interesting.
Breaker: Uh, Dave having a boner is what made things interesting.
JP: Wait . . . did you have a boner, Hux?
Breaker: ^^^ This. Please answer this.
Huxley: I was fine until she climbed on top of me, gripped her tits, and dry-humped me.
Breaker: Holy fuck.
JP: This was a class? Sounds more like a good time. Where can I sign up?
Huxley: You have serious issues.
JP: Says the guy who was boning out during a pregnancy class next to a colleague.
Huxley: You weren’t there. You don’t know.
Breaker: Did you at least congratulate Dave on his boner?
Huxley: When does a guy ever congratulate another guy on his boner?
Breaker: Might be something nice to do. A solid pat on the back and then a compliment. “Nice bone, man.”
Huxley: Fuck knows why I talk to you two.
“What a wonderful class, don’t you think?” Ellie asks as she licks her mint chocolate chip ice cream in a large waffle cone.
“Oh, quite lovely,” Lottie responds, even though I know her voice is full of sarcasm.
That was not a lovely fucking class. That was a nightmare, for many reasons.