Shy
sexy short fiction by
Eddie Robbins
©2011 by Eddie Robbins. All Rights Reserved.
Smashwords Edition
It was a strange dream. It wasn’t hot, or even wet. But it was a seed. I was at the bookstore where I worked unloading boxes and stocking shelves. And Jo was there. Yeah, that girl, Jo. The one no one really knew. “She’s shy,” people said. But I was there with her. And we talked, which was weird because I’d never heard her voice. It was friendly, and nice. Very nice.
A seed …
I woke up and Sharon was still there, which surprised me. In technical terms, she was out of my league, and the fact that we’d been together three months was a testament to…I dunno. What the hell did I have to offer her? Great sex? Because that was certainly a thing with us. But I knew, and more importantly, she knew, that she was a smart, ambitious, driven college senior about to graduate in two months and I was a blue-collar dude who rarely stayed in one place for more than six months. I was 25 for Chrissake, there was plenty of time for that settling-down, one-job-forever stuff.
Maybe it was the 25-years-old thing. I was Sharon’s “older guy,” something that none of her sorority sisters currently had. Whatever. She was a lithe blond with long, lively locks, a hot bedroom determination, and was sometimes fun to be around. But we were doomed, and probably soon. Too many of her conversations began with “why don’t you” and “why aren’t you.” My answer was always, “Because I’m not you,” but I never said it because arguing with her was a real drag.
Sharon stirred and slid out of bed. We slept naked the night before, and seeing her lean form from the back, the perfect ass, the dimples just above it, the muscular back, damn…
She turned and looked down at me. Her front was just as nice. I wanted to reach out and touch her, run my hands up her smooth belly to her breasts, but I knew she would back away before I could make contact.
“Why aren’t you getting ready for work?” she asked.
“I am ready.”
“You’re not showering?” She moved to collect her clothes from the night before and tossed them in the overnight duffle she’d started keeping at my place.
“You first.”
“Whatever, Jake,” she replied and grabbed a pink towel from her bag. She left the room and went down the hall to the bathroom. After a minute, I heard shower water hitting the tub.
After another minute, I followed her.
#
The shower curtain in my bathtub is opaque. I heard her moving in and out of the stream. I padded to the toilet and took a massive morning piss, sitting down so I wouldn’t make any noise. Then I shook off, stood, and slid into the shower with her. Her eyes were closed and her hair full of lathered shampoo. But she knew I was there.
“Jesus, Jake, I don’t have time for this.”
I put my hands in her hair and started washing it for her, rubbing her scalp, and feeling the suds pass between my fingers. “You’re always in a rush,” I said.
“I have a lot of things to do, okay?” But she’d dropped her hands to her sides and didn’t stop me. I churned her hair and massaged her scalp for several minutes. When she finally stepped under the water, all the suds poured down her body. Then I massaged her shoulders.
I leaned in next to her ear. “I have something important to do myself,” I whispered.
She smirked. “Come on, Jake…”
“Ah, ah. Just relax. You don’t have to do anything.”
“I doubt that.”
“Doubters never prosper.”
“That’s cheaters.”
“Them, too.”
She sighed and turned to me. “Be quick about it, Jake.”
“Quick has never been my strong suit.”
I kissed her. She kissed me back. I stopped rubbing her shoulders and reached down to her hands. I lifted them to the tile wall in front of us, planting them there to brace her. I moved my hands down to Sharon’s hips and held her as I slid my cock into her from behind. She used her leverage from the wall to push back against me. As I began fucking her, the tension in her body changed from bad stress to good, a subtle difference, but I could feel it and it was sexy as hell. Her breath hitched and she moaned my name.
I reached one arm around her and massaged her dripping breasts. My other hand snaked around and down, slipping into the small thatch of trimmed pubes between her legs, then slipping in further. My fingertips found her clit, rubbed in a circular motion, which I knew drove her crazy. I pulled her closer, grinding from behind in a steady rhythm.
I leaned forward and whispered things in her ear, what I was doing with her, how much I could tell she liked it. “Yes,” she whispered back, then moaned. “Yes.”
I pushed deeper and increased our rhythm. She pushed back harder and her body started to quake from the effort. Her hips began an intense, quick gyration as my cock slid in and out of her. Her breathing quickened and she moaned, “Oh God, Jake,” over and over. And then, “Do it, Jake, fuck me, fuck me, come on.”
I rubbed a steady pace on her clit and held her so tight I almost lifted her off the bottom of the tub. I jerked my hips into her, and with a loud moan that suddenly got caught in a full-body quake, she came. Her hips bucked and she gasped as her whole frame shook.
Before she could finish, I pulled away from her, sliding my hands down to her hips again, and fucked her hard, no longer grinding, but thrusting in and out of her with full-length strokes. I saw one of her hands against the tile form into a claw. I don’t know if she knew she was doing it. She cried out on every jerk of her body, then my name, then an intense silence, a stiff body, and a bowed head. She was coming again, even harder, and that was all I could take.
I grunted and ejaculated huge shots of liquid heat into her, enough that she could clearly feel it, making her cry out. When my cock slipped out of her, a trail of cum drooled after it. Wow, I wanted to say. That was a big one. But I didn’t say anything. And neither did she.
Later, we went about our morning prep with hardly any conversation. The sex simply shut us up for a while. But maybe it also magnified the fact that as good as it always was, we didn’t like each other very much anymore. When Sharon was dressed and packed for the day, she finally shook her head.
“Now I’m going to be late for class,” she said. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into that.”
“Sounds like you needed it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sharon, you’re twenty-two. You’ll never have a life like this ever again. So enjoy it while you can.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. So she shouldered her bag and walked out.
#
I was at work for half an hour before I saw Jo.
Jo was a curiosity. No one seemed to know her. Everyone said the same thing: “She’s shy.” I never talked to her, but I’d only been working at the Attic Bookstore for a few months and it’s not like I had a reason to interact with her. I was “the guy in the back room,” unloading boxes from trucks, ripping them open, hauling whatever needed to be hauled. The grunt. And that was the way I liked it. In a few months – sooner, based on how things were going with Sharon – I’d move on to another city, another job.
Jo worked out front. I had to say she was attractive, but I say that because she had a nice face. She had a deep complexion with brown eyes and wore her dark brown hair up. The rest of her was hard to describe because she wore baggy, modest clothes that revealed nothing. Sometimes it was an oversized university sweatshirt and loose jeans. Sometimes a big sweater and ankle-length skirt. If she carried books, which was pretty much all the time, she hugged them close to her body. She walked around with her head down, avoiding eye contact. She wanted to fly below the radar and that’s pretty much what people let her do.
The Attic was massive, dealt in new and used books, was smack in the middle of a big college town, and was an intellectual hub. If you needed a book, the Attic was the place. But even more importantly, if you needed to hang with book people, the Attic was an even better place. Everyone said Jo was shy, but I guess she knew enough about books to work out front. I watched her help a customer once. She moved slowly and deliberately, helping a woman find what she was looking for. When she pulled the book down from the shelf and handed it over, Jo smiled at the woman.
She had a terrific smile.
#
As fate would have it, later that day Jo and I worked together for the first time. She approached me in the stock room. I was surrounded by boxes and stacks of old books. At the time, I’d loaded a book cart as high as my eye with used mysteries. When she came in, she looked at me, looked away, then looked at the massive cart.
“Um…” she said, hugging her baggy black sweatshirt into herself.
And then I got it. She was supposed to stock the mystery section from that cart. Which, because of me, now probably outweighed her two-to-one.
“Hi, Jo.”
Her eyes flashed at me. I’d surprised her, I guess, knowing her name. Then she fidgeted and just said, “Jake.”
“Our reputations precede us,” I replied.
An awkward moment of silence.
“We’ve never formally met, have we?” I asked.
She shrugged. Looked at me, looked away. Then shook her head no.
I stepped around the book cart and extended my hand. “I’m Jake. It’s very nice to finally meet you.”
She smiled at that. And slowly shook my hand. “I’m Jo.”
“I know.”
Her hand was warm and her handshake surprisingly firm. Maybe I expected a sweaty palm because she was so shy? And then she made the briefest eye contact with me. Her brown eyes were far more intense and sexy than I ever would have guessed from a distance. Then she looked away – and was that a smirk?
“You need help with this cart.” It wasn’t a question.
She nodded quickly. Then mumbled. “It’s … huge.”
It was probably a mistake to say, but it just came out because I never cooked up a bad joke I didn’t share: “Two words every man loves to hear from a pretty girl.”
Her hand went up to her mouth to cover a smile, but then she blushed. Bad.
“Sorry,” I said. “You hardly know me. I should keep my trap shut.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “No one here makes me laugh much.”
“Well … then we have a thing.”
“A thing?”
“I’ll try to make you laugh. ‘Cause you have a great smile.”
And then she really did smile, and let me see it. “Thanks,” she whispered, still a bit uncomfortable.
“Come on. I’ll help you with the cart.”
#
I only made her laugh two more times, but we spent a good two hours emptying that cart and stocking shelves. The store wasn’t crazy-busy like it could be, so no one bothered us. I tried to get her to open up, but she shut me down with a shrug if she didn’t want to say something. I got some information out of her: Her full first name was Joelle, and she hated it. She wouldn’t say her last name. She was a junior at the university. Psych major. Her family lived 500 miles away and she was very much on her own.
It was work, but it felt a bit like a date. Or maybe that was just me. When the cart was empty, I knew I had to get back to the stock room and haul ass on a bunch of stuff I’d just neglected for the afternoon.
Before I left, I tapped Jo’s shoulder. She looked right at me and I could tell she didn’t mean to, but now couldn’t look away without being obvious.
“Jo?”
“Yes?” A reluctant whisper.
I smiled. “You never need to be shy with me.”
She smiled back, but only for a moment before she disappeared into the stacks.
#
The days had started to get longer, but it was still spring, still chilly, and still a deep shade of red when the sun set around dinnertime. I sat on my front porch having a beer. Or four. Well, not my front porch. I rented the place, a tiny two-story house a few blocks from where the big campus started. It was a shithole, to be honest, but it was cheap and what the hell more could I want. I think Sharon secretly loathed the place, but she would never have me over at her sorority house – I’d never met one of her sisters/friends, nor had she ever mentioned me going to one of their parties. My guess was that she wanted a 25-year-old mystery man that her friends would never actually see. Whatever. I didn’t even know if Sharon was coming over on this particular night.
I had a little CD boom box going next to me – the Dead; I wasn’t a huge fan but right now they were perfect – and a cooler of longnecks within reach. What more could anyone ask, right?
I must have been staring at the porch rail or a tree on the street or something, because all of a sudden, she was two steps up the porch stairs.
I blinked and gaped at her.
Jo smiled and gave me a little wave. “Hi.”
“Nope,” I replied, shaking off the surprise. “I don’t smoke pot.”
“Me neither,” she said. “So…we have a thing.”
I realized I was sitting straight up. Jo’s outfit was standard issue for her, the oversized sweatshirt, big jeans. But since it was still cold out, she had a denim jacket on as well, her hands shoved deep into its pockets.
And then I heard myself tell the truth: “It’s really good to see you.”
She sighed and laughed. “Thank God. Um, I wasn’t going to come.”
“How’d you find me?”
“I looked you up,” she said. “At the store, I mean. I hope you don’t mind. It’s kind of nefarious.”
“So you’re secretly evil.”
She smiled and hugged her coat pockets closer. “Can I have a beer, Jake?”
“You can have the cooler if you want.”
I popped open a bottle for her and she leaned against the porch railing in front of me, closer than I expected her to be. And we talked. She hadn’t asked me much about myself at work, but now she did. So I told her. I had a set formula that had been working for a few years now. I drifted. I worked in one spot for a while, usually three to six months, stashed some cash for the next trip, and then moved on to another place and did it all again. The jobs weren’t brainbusters, but that wasn’t what it was about for me. I met some of the best people I’ve ever met on these jobs, these journeys. And I had proof.
“What proof?” Jo said.
“You’re standing in front of me,” I said.
She smiled at that, but I went on, fueled by the beer. “I’m serious. You’re an undiscovered person. Everyone says you’re shy. But it’s kind of cool being the only person to get to know you.”
She looked down at her beer bottle. “It was what you said.”
“What did I say.”
“’You don’t have to be shy with me.’”
“I did say that.”
And then she stopped looking at her beer and gazed right into me. “A hundred people have told me my whole life that I have to come out of my shell. Like it was just that easy. But only a few have ever reached me on some level where it felt…right. So congratulations, Jake.”
I smirked. “Have I won something?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Stand up.”
I did. A cool breeze moved through the trees lining the street. The sun had set and I could see her, but the light had dimmed.
“Come closer.”
I did. I stepped in close enough to kiss. In fact, I leaned in to do just that, but she put a hand up to my mouth and pushed me back. “Hold on. I want you to know something.”
“What’s that?”
She took my hand. At first I expected some kind of speech or heartfelt gesture. But then she pulled me closer and shoved my hand up her sweatshirt, and oh God she wore no bra. Just soft, glorious flesh and nipples hard in the cold.
“Jo – “
But she grabbed my other hand and pulled it in the same direction, but instead of up, she slid my fingers into the waistband of her jeans and forced my hand down her pants. True to form, she wore no panties. My fingers were in the clean thatch of her pubic hair.
“Jesus, Jo.”
She still had me by the wrists, and yanked me close, close enough to smell the beer on her breath, close enough to see the reflection of a streetlamp in her eyes and on her lips. And then she said it.
“I won’t be shy with you, Jake.”
#
I thought to pull her inside the house, then paused. I decided I would put “shy” to the test. I slid my hand out of her pants and without losing eye contact, yanked her jacket off her shoulders and pulled it from her arms. She stared at me the whole time, almost like a dare. So I lifted her sweatshirt over her head. She didn’t resist. She put her arms up in a touchdown pose and let me pull it over her head and toss it aside. And now I saw her. Topless, incredible, smooth flesh, perfect breasts that had been hidden under bad clothes for so long. She had nothing to be shy about. She could have dressed like the hottest girl in town and actually been the hottest girl in town. And here she was in front of me.
“Jake,” she whispered and I knew the stop-fucking-around tone, so I kissed her. She snaked her arms around me and pulled me close. I kissed down her neck to her collarbone and kept going, running my lips over the smooth, firm flesh, licking her breasts, careful to leave long saliva trails for the cold air to magnify.
I returned to her lips and kissed her again, said her name. Then I forced my hips into hers so she could feel everything going on there.
“Come inside,” I whispered.
She smiled, then laughed. “Promise?”
#
She fell back on the couch and I crawled after her, running one hand over her bare torso, her firm breasts, and using my other hand to yank open her jeans. I hadn’t turned a light on in the house, so we worked by the streetlight outside and the dim light over the stove in the kitchen. It was enough. I grabbed each leg of her jeans and slid them off her and over my shoulder.
I kneeled in front of her, moving closer, her legs spreading on either side of me. I gauged my next move – what did she want? Soft words? A slow hand? Her breasts rose and fell in the low light. I could see her eyes focused on me. And then I saw one of her hands … stroking the top edge of her pubic hair. A subtle gesture? No idea, but I lowered my head between her legs.
She lifted her hips, encouraging me.
As I pushed one of her legs open wider and spread her with the other hand, I felt her wetness. She’d been aroused for a while. Thinking about this. Hoping for it. The shy girl.
My tongue met her flesh, sliding in. She drew in a quick breath, letting me know I was on the right track. I ran my tongue across her clit and the flesh surrounding it, then slid it into her as deep as I could. She moaned and arched her back, again showing me her amazing breasts and hard nipples stretched against the night lights outside.
“Jake,” I heard her small, taut voice. “Oh, Jake. Oh, Jake.” She whispered a groan, pushed her pussy into my face.
I slid my palms under her ass cheeks and lifted her towards me as I focused my tongue on her clit, slow, steady, firm. She moaned again and reached out to grip the couch cushions with her hands.
I don’t know how long we went like that. But soon Jo’s hips churned and she cried out. Her movements seemed involuntary, and she moaned, “Oooohhhh … I’m coming … oh, I’m coming!”
It seemed to last a full minute, her body quaking, her breath hitching. Towards the end she even let out a short laugh. That’s when I pulled back and stood. She looked incredible before me, open and real, a smile on her face I could see despite the low light.
I pulled my shirt off. Undid my jeans and tossed them aside. Underwear next. Then, before she could say anything, I crawled on top of her and slid my cock in.
She gasped and clamped her arms around my neck. Her pussy was sopping wet, so warm, and I didn’t wait. I thrust in and out of her, hard, with hunger, and I whispered in her ear how hot she made me, how badly I wanted to do exactly what I was doing just then.
“Oh, Jake, fuck me, do it, fuck me.”
“Don’t be shy,” I whispered, my tongue right in her ear.
“No, baby, I want it all,” and her hands slid down and grabbed my ass, pulled me deeper into her. “Every…fucking…inch!”
And it was raw fucking then, just me pounding into her and Jo telling me to do exactly that, harder, deeper.
Suddenly her breathing hitched and her whole body jerked against mine. She didn’t speak. She just came, her pussy hot around my cock, her lips open but her teeth gritted and eyes shut as her orgasm played out against me.
I didn’t stop.
Without pulling my cock from her, I lifted her off the couch and dragged her onto the floor, me on the bottom, her riding me.
She bent to my face, kissed me deep, lowered her lips to my ear, “You make me come so hard, Jake.”
“Don’t stop, Jo.”
“Oh, baby, I mean it,” and she churned her hips onto my cock in a liquid rhythm. “It’s never been like this before.”
I reached up and held her face in my hands. “This is just the beginning,” I said, and lifted my hips off the floor, my cock going in to the hilt.
Something in her took over just then, maybe a hidden desire she’d been suppressing for a long time, a product of her constant hiding and shyness, that shield she held up to the world cracking and falling, but she began riding my cock out of, I dunno, pure need? To prove something? My brain wasn’t straight enough to figure it, so all I did was lay back on the carpet and let her go, her entire body quaking and jerking, each thrust bringing a sharp moan from her.
And then she looked down at me. Something in her expression, in her eyes. The shy girl was gone and the one who took her place told me just by her expression, just by the sudden needful jerks of her hips and tightness of her warm pussy, that I’m fucking YOU now, Jake.
And she said it, a harsh whisper: “I’m fucking you.”
God, she came again and I launched my cum into her and the two of us lay on the floor gasping each other’s names.
#
For a bit, the living room floor was our spot.
“You have an amazing body,” I said. “I mean amazing. And you hide it.”
She sighed. “Women get stared at, Jake. That’s creepy to me. So think about it – if I dress not to impress, and some guy comes along and still shows an interest, a genuine interest without knowing what my tits look like in a tight tank top, maybe he’s worth my interest.”
“So the shyness isn’t really a fear of sex, or a hatred of sex, or any of that stuff. It’s a filter.”
“A filter,” Jo repeated.
“Only the good stuff gets through.”
She chuckled. “Are you the good stuff, Jake?”
“Hell, yes.”
She rolled onto my chest and made circles on the skin with her finger. “No argument so far. I wondered what you’d be like. I wondered if I should come over here at all, because if I did, I knew we’d make love. I couldn’t help myself.” She smiled and poked my chest. “You’re just what I need right now, Jake.”
“Always happy to help out, Jo.”
“I want to do something I’ve never really done before.”
“Um…okay.”
“It might not be that good.”
“You’re going to sing?”
She giggled. “Oh, you’re in trouble for that one, man.” And then her hand slid down my torso into my pubic hair and gripped my cock. “No, I won’t sing. But I want to blow you, Jake. Blow you…well.”
Heat bloomed in my body, an instant reaction, and all I could say was, “Is there any other way?”
“Stop, okay.”
“Okay.”
“You’ve given me a lot of pleasure tonight. I want to give you some.” Her hand stroked me then. “And I’ve done it once before, But I don’t know how good I was at it.”
“For most guys it’s easy to tell.”
“He was really drunk.”
“Naturally.”
“I didn’t swallow his cum.” She paused. “I didn’t even let him come in my mouth.”
I didn’t know what the hell to say to that.
“Jake…I want you to come in my mouth. I want to do that for you.”
Now I could’ve said a hundred witty things just then. Like, you have my permission. Or, hey, that’s a great idea. Or, let’s go, dicks don’t blow themselves. All I could come up with was: “Okay.”
So I laid there on the floor and she made her way down. She petted down my pubic hair, then took my cock into her mouth.
Exquisite.
She started slowly, and used nothing but her mouth, letting my dick slide in and out through her lips as it got rock hard again. My breathing increased and I moaned, and she moaned in reply, moving faster, moist sounds filling my ears. I spread my legs wider. Then, out of nowhere, one of her hands slid under my buttocks, between them, a bold finger pressing on my anus as she sucked me. Incredible.
The she quickened her pace and I watched her head bob up and down in the dim light, her long dark hair draped over me, the silhouette of my dick disappearing into her mouth over and over again. I whispered her name. She moaned back and her lips tightened on me, pumped faster, her fingers on my asshole rubbing with just the right pressure.
I couldn’t hold off any longer. A massive orgasm roared through me, gigantic spurts erupting into Jo’s mouth. She still moved on my cock, sucking up and down as I filled her mouth with intense ropes, one, two, five, firing as hard as I could to empty every drop into her, and she took it.
As I finished, she slowed her pace and eventually let my cock slip from her mouth. She returned to her spot by my side on the floor and nestled in under my arm.
After a few minutes of silence: “Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something important?”
“Of course.”
A pause. “Can we find a bed? I don’t think I’m done with you just yet.”
#
And she wasn’t. She molested me all night. We fell asleep at some point and Jo woke up early for a class and left. I slept in since I didn’t have to be at work until ten.
It couldn’t have been long after Jo left, though, when something made my eyes open. I turned and looked up from my pillow.
Sharon stood net to the bed. She was dressed in a tight tank top with a light coat over it and looked terrific, but that didn’t mean she was exactly a welcome sight.
“Hey, babe,” I muttered.
“I saw her.”
I nodded. “If you showed up any earlier, you would’ve seen her in this room.”
“You think this is no big deal, Jake?”
I sat up, the sheet covering my naked bottom half. “I think this is pretty easy math, Sharon. We’ve been together, but we’ve never been close. You’re moving on. I’m moving on. I have no idea how much longer I’m staying in this town anyway.”
“But you’re in no rush, right, Jake? Not now. When you have a new girl to fuck. Who is she?”
“No one you’d know.”
She was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know why I’m not screaming at you.”
“Because you know I’m right about what I said. Hey, I love being with you. I guess you like it, too, or you wouldn’t be here. But that’s all it’s been. Maybe it’s run its course.”
Sharon’s eyes focused on mine. She always had great eyes, but she never looked at me like that enough, I thought. Then she ran her tongue over her lips. “What if I’m not done, Jake?”
“I don’t know.”
“What if I want more?”
I offered a slight smile. “More as in, a deeper relationship? Or more of what we’ve been doing?”
She sat down on the edge of the bed. And I watched her hand slide under the sheet. Felt her fingers snake around my cock and play with it. I didn’t stop her.
“Does that answer your question, Jake?”
I placed my hand on top of hers and stopped her stroking.
“Okay, Sharon. You can have me. Any way you want me. I’ll do anything you want. But just this once. It’s the last time. Got it?”
I took my hand off of hers and she squeezed my hardening cock.
“ Got it, Jake. But there’s a bonus. I’ll do you. And then after that, you’ll do me. Any way you want. One last time.”
Well…let’s just say it was along fucking morning. Literally.
#
I was an hour late for work. My head was filled with visions of two very different women, about what Jo and I did the night before, what Sharon asked me to do to her this morning. But I knew Sharon wouldn’t be back. At least not for a while. There was no reason for her to honor our morning deal, but I figured she would. If that was the last time we’d ever make love – her to me, then me to her, unspoken fantasies part of the mix – then we went out in style.
Yeah, I didn’t expect to see Sharon again.
Jo didn’t come into the store until after noon. I rolled a cart full of books out from the back and into the fantasy aisle.
She waited for me there. She wore one of her ankle-length skirts and a baggy blouse. But her hair was teased out. She looked great, moreso because I knew what she looked like without clothes.
“Hi,” she said softly, her brown eyes large and hopeful.
“Hi back.”
Then she smiled, a mischievous little grin. She looked around, as if figuring if anyone was within earshot. Then she put out her hand. “Come here.”
I let her lead me deeper into the stacks to an isolated corner that smelled of old paper. Then she pulled me close and kissed me, long and deep.
When it broke, I smiled. “That’s not the act of a shy girl.”
She returned the smile, mischievous again, and took a step back from me. Then her hands went to her hips, gripped the fabric of her skirt, and began balling it up, pulling the garment up, further and further, until I saw her calves, her knees, her thighs. And she didn’t stop, lifting the skirt until I could see her perfectly trimmed pubic hair.
“I told you, Jake. I’ll never be shy with you.”
And I stepped towards her.
Eddie Robbins never gets as lucky as his characters. Until he does, he’ll keep writing. Find his stories wherever you buy eBooks.