Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I push through the door, letting the last skin of cold air slap the back of my neck, and immediately spot Kayleigh in the farthest booth, her feet kicked up onto the cracked vinyl bench. She’s halfway through a blueberry muffin, crumbs scattered like birdseed across the table, and her hair is up in a loose bun, the way she does it when she doesn’t want to look like she’s trying. There’s an empty mug at her elbow, a refill already cooling next to it. When she sees me, her eyes go wide and bright, as if she’s been waiting for this exact moment all week.
“Jesus, MK, you look like a ghost. Come here,” she calls, and pats the spot across from her with both hands. “I need this story so bad I’ve been vibrating all afternoon.”
I slide in, dragging my bag after me, and shake the snow from my sleeves. My own face stares back at me from the mirror behind the counter, with full pink cheeks and sparkling blue eyes. I look like I’m glowing, which I basically am, ever since my naughty encounters with Kent.
“Sorry,” I say, not sure why I’m apologizing. “Class went long. Then some asshole hit the bus shelter with a Toyota, so the route was all fucked up.”
Kayleigh waves this away. “You’re here now. That’s what counts.”
The waitress shuffles over, sets down a chipped mug, and asks if I want “the usual.” I say yes, even though I can’t remember what that is, and she returns two minutes later with a latte in a paper cup and a square of something labeled “vegan lemon bar.” I thank her and wrap both hands around the cup, trying to draw some warmth back into my bones.
Kayleigh waits until the waitress is out of range, then leans in, elbows denting the sticky table. “Okay. Spill. I’m dying. Did you do it?”
I glance around the shop. Two grad students at the next booth are deep in a debate about climate change, one of them speaking in loud, deliberate bursts as if the world is a TED talk. The barista is arguing with her boyfriend on the phone. No one here is going to care about what we’re saying, but I lower my voice anyway.
“I did,” I say. “Last night. Like you told me to.”
Kayleigh’s eyes go huge. “The massage? You actually went through with it?”
I nod, cheeks prickling. I take a sip of the latte. It’s too hot, but I let it burn, let it force something else to the surface. “Twice now. He had it all set up. Massage table, oil, everything. He even explained the anatomy to me first, like I was prepping for a quiz.”
My best friend’s face is a study in slow-blooming scandal. “Wait, wait—back up. He was naked? Like totally, or with a towel around his…?”
I nod.
“Totally. He just stripped right in front of me. He didn’t even try to make it medical. He just did it, and girl, Kent is H-O-T. That man works out like a fiend and is ripped like a gladiator.”
Kayleigh drops her chin into her hands, eyes fixed on my face. “But did you see it? Like, all of it?”
I stifle a laugh, even as the flush rises higher. “What do you think? I was supposed to massage his balls. Of course I saw it.”
She grins, a predatory little thing. “How big?”
I choke on my coffee. “Kayleigh! That’s not—”
“It’s exactly the point!” she says, barely keeping her voice down. “Was it like, huge? Was he hard?”
I want to lie, to downplay it, but the words come out in a rush. “He was enormous. I mean, it was. He was totally hard, even before I started. I think it was on purpose.”
Kayleigh’s jaw drops a little, muffin forgotten. “He wanted you to see. Oh my god. This is so much better than anything on Pornhub.”
The words shock a laugh out of me. I feel the tension start to slide away, replaced by a fizzing, weird glee. Maybe I want to be the main character in someone’s dirty story.
“It gets worse,” I say, voice soft. “I touched his cock. At first, maybe a little by accident, but it was so huge and veiny, and he’d jerk when I brushed against it. Then, I touched him on purpose. And he didn’t stop me. He wanted me to.”
Kayleigh’s whole body vibrates. “No. Fucking. Way. Did you stroke it? Fist it, even?”
“A little, yeah,” I admit, eyes darting to the window. Crowds go by, unaware that we’re having an illicit conversation. “It was so sexy, Kay. Kent is at least ten inches, and I kept massaging his balls while stroking his shaft. Then he came. Like, a lot lot, and it spurted all over, creamy and yummy. It got on my chin.”
She claps a hand over her mouth, and her laughter is so loud the grad students glance over, then immediately back to their own world. “MK! You got jizz on your face on the first try?”