Baumgartner Generations: Henry (16 page)

His gaze
dipped down to the V of her button-down blouse. Her breasts had to be her
second-best feature, full and round. She wore her clothes in the latest
fashion, dark colored bras with light colored blouses, and it only accentuated them
more. “I can’t.”

“What’s
distracting you?” She was trying to stay in teacher-mode, asking all the right
questions. Part of his issue with reading was staying focused, not letting the
outside world get in the way. But it wasn’t the outside world that was the
problem, and she damned well knew it, he was sure of that fact. He couldn’t
quite believe it, but he couldn’t deny the hand nudging against the inseam of
his jeans.

“You’re
distracting me.” He whispered the words against the soft shell of her ear,
feeling the tickle of her hair against his nose. “What would you say if I told
you…”

His hand
moved up on her thigh and he felt her clench, heard her gasp, but she
half-turned toward him, shifting in her chair. “If you told me what…?”

“If I told
you…” His lips moved against her cheek as he spoke.

“Henry…” Her
voice turned to pleading.

“I just…” He
closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. She was so close in the dark, he could
feel her breath, coming too fast. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

She turned
her head toward him.“About what?”

“Kissing
you.” That wasn’t all he was thinking about. Not by a long shot. But it was a
start. He felt the corner of her mouth against his lips, could almost taste
her.

“So do it,” she
breathed, turning and capturing his mouth with hers, the kiss hitting him with
a force he hadn’t known possible.

Touching his
lips to hers was like completing a high voltage electrical current. His whole
body came alive with energy. Toni made a small noise in her throat, maybe a
protest, he wasn’t sure, but then she slid a hand behind his neck, pulling him
in closer, her mouth opening to take the eager probe of his tongue.

“Henry,” she
panted, breaking the kiss, but he couldn’t stop himself. His hand was wedged up
under her skirt, the heat radiating from between her thighs. He felt her giving
in, her body slowly melting against his in the dark, and he kissed her again,
not giving her the chance to say yes or no, not giving either of them a chance
to think at all.

“Henry,
wait. Stop.” This time, when she broke off the kiss, panting almost as hard as
he was, she pushed him gently away, pulling her skirt down to cover her legs.
“Not here.”

He groaned
softly, seeing she meant business. She was straightening her clothes, smoothing
out her skirt. He turned his face up toward the screen, sliding down in his
seat and trying to ignore the aching throb of his cock.

“Toni,” he
whispered, nudging her with his knee.

“Shhh.” Her
hand pressed against his thigh, squeezing. “Watch the movie.”

He tried. He
really did. But she didn’t move her hand away. Instead she began inching it
slowly upward and he held his breath, his eyes half-closed and glazed over. He
didn’t know how long it took for her to reach his crotch. Half an hour? An
hour? It was an agonizingly slow progression, but he didn’t dare move. On the
screen, Brando and the girl had found a myriad of ways to have sex, only making
things worse off-screen. Henry was so turned on he thought he just might come
in his pants when he felt her long, red fingernails graze over his erection
through his jeans.

When he
pressed his hips up toward her hand, he heard her swallow, her palm resting now
against his zipper. Her face was turned toward the screen, as if the movie and
whatever Brando was doing with a stick of butter was the most interesting thing
she’d ever seen, but she was exploring the outline of his cock with her fingers
in the dark. He wanted to touch her, too, but he didn’t want to break the spell
they were under, was too afraid she would stop, say no.

He let out a
soft cry when she rubbed her thumb over the head of his dick through the denim.
She shifted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs, and he could hear
her breath coming faster, almost as fast as his. He let his knees fall further
open, feeling her thigh brush his. Her sweet, bare leg. He glanced down and saw
that her skirt was up, far up over her knees, up the long, slim expanse of her
thigh.

She was too
sexy for words.

His eyes
searched for her hemline, but it just kept going up and up, the folds of her
skirt finally tucked into the V of her crotch. It was then that he realized
where her other hand was. The thought of her touching herself, right there next
to him in the dark, made his cock swell in response. He slowly covered her
hand, the one cupping his erection, with his own. She whimpered when he did
that and he saw her close her eyes as he rocked up against her, with her.

Then she
searched for and found his zipper. She inched it down, not even unsnapping his
jeans, just sliding her hand into the opening to feel him through his boxers. This
is really happening, he realized, closing his eyes as her nails grazed his
balls through his shorts before her fingers found his shaft, rubbing up and
down.

“Toni…”

“Shhhh…” She
teased him mercilessly and he stayed right there on the edge of exploding, and
she still hadn’t even touched his bare flesh. He was pure sensation, letting
her carry him away and then bring him back, stopping, starting, stopping again.
She kept him panting and wanting more for what felt like hours.

Finally, on
the screen, Brando was collapsing. The movie was ending and he had no idea what
had happened. The credits were rolling, and Toni reluctantly removed her hand
from his lap, pulling her skirt back down as the lights came up. Henry fumbled
with his zipper, half-sitting, his cock like a steel bar stuck down his pants,
making it difficult to move.

“So what did
you think?”

Henry
blinked at her as she shrugged on her coat.
Of what? The handjob tease? You
masturbating?
She couldn’t possibly mean the movie. But she did.

“Could you
follow it?”

“No.” He
gulped, standing and pressed against her as they moved down the aisle, his
voice hoarse. “But it wasn’t because of the subtitles.”

She didn’t speak
as they walked out to her car. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t quite
know how. He certainly wasn’t up to making small talk and clearly she wasn’t
either. The ride back to his dorm was silent. She didn’t even turn on the
radio.

When she
pulled up in front of Mosher-Jordan hall, she put the car in park and turned to
him in the darkness. “Henry, we shouldn’t do this.”

“I know.” Of
course he knew. It was a million degrees of wrong and getting hotter by the
second. There was no way they should have let anything happen in the first
place, and going forward was impossible. Dangerous, even.

“I’m the
adult here.” She surveyed the front window where a group of guys walked by. “I…
should know better.”

Henry
bristled. “I’m not a little kid.”

“So I
noticed.” She turned to touch his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his jaw line.

“But I don’t
think…” Henry caught her hand in his, frowning. “I don’t think I can pretend
like nothing happened.” He slid her hand down to his lap and her lower lip
caught between her teeth

Then she let
him press her palm against his aching crotch, and breathed, “I don’t think I
can either.”

He leaned in
and did what he wanted to, the very thing he knew he shouldn’t, and kissed her.
Toni let him—she let him touch her, slipping his hand under her coat, cupping
her breast through her blouse, feeling the hardening press of her nipple
through the fabric. She whimpered when he did that, trying to move in closer to
him, although the gear shift was in the way.

“Oh, Toni,”
he groaned when her hand found him, rubbing him through the fabric of his jeans,
hot, delicious friction. “I want you so bad.”

“Wait,” she
gasped. “Wait.”

He rested
his head against her shoulder, breathing hard. “I know.”

“Henry, you should
go.” Her voice sounded pained, but her hand didn’t stop what it was doing
between his legs.

“I know. I
know,” he agreed, squeezing her breast, so full and heavy in his hand, even
through her bra.

“Please,”
she begged, starting to move away. He let her go, watching as she started
straightening her clothing for the third time that night. “Before I…before we…”

Henry
reached for the door handle, pulling on it. “Okay, I’m going.”

“Goodnight,”
she said softly, but he didn’t stop to say anything. He didn’t say goodnight or
see you Monday, which was when they had their next appointment in her office.
If he’d stopped to say something, he would have just stayed. They would have
gone somewhere, and things would have happened that neither of them could have
lived with. She had begged him to go, and he’d done as she asked.

That’s the
thought he consoled himself with as he opened his dorm room door.

“Great
game!” Dean greeted him with a high five from his bed, his laptop open in front
of him.

“Thanks.”
Henry had almost forgotten about the game. He shed his coat and kicked off his
shoes, flopping face down on his bed.

“So how was
the movie?”

Henry raised
his head. “Artsy.” He’d told Dean he was going out to see the film—he just
hadn’t mentioned who with. “Hey, guess who I saw at the game?”

“Libby.”
Dean laughed at Henry’s incredulous look. “It was televised, remember?”

“Did you
know she was from North Carolina?” Henry asked. “She’s going home for
Christmas.”

“I can’t
wait for break.” Dean grimaced as his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his
jeans pocket. “Fuck.”

“Who is it?”

“Study
group.” Dean flipped open the phone. He didn’t even say hello. He just
listened. Finally, he said, “I told you, after the break.”

Henry
watched as his roommate got up and began pacing back and forth between the two
twin beds. Dean had supposedly been meeting with a calculus “study group” twice
a week, although Henry figured it had to be a cover for something. A new
girlfriend maybe. He wasn’t sure.

“I know. I
know!” Dean turned away from him, walking toward the window. “I said I would.”

Henry took
the opportunity to slide the box out from under the bed. The Fleshlight was
there, ready and waiting and always willing. His cock jumped at the sight of
it. After tonight’s marathon tease, which he still couldn’t quite believe had
been real, he was going to make good use of it. Dean was still talking in
hushed tones by the window.

“I’m gonna
take a shower.” Henry headed for the bathroom, but Dean didn’t even hear him.
He was too involved on the phone.

Henry stood
under the pounding hot needling spray, working his cock slowly into the silky,
ribbed flesh of the silicone cunt in his hand, and tried to think of Libby. He
always thought of Libby. He’d even stopped fantasizing about Val. They talked
on the phone all the time and she was becoming too good of a friend for him to
consider her that way anymore. Instead, it was Libby he always imagined in his
mind’s eye at times like this. Thinking of anyone else felt wrong.

But tonight
he didn’t. He couldn’t get Toni out of his mind. She had eclipsed everything
else—he could still taste her on his lips, feel her long fingernails scratching
against his cock, see the sweet bare silk of her thigh.

He wanted
her. He’d never wanted anything or anyone more—even Libby, he realized
guiltily. His brain wanted to debate, argue with him, back and forth, but his
cock didn’t lie. The more he thought of Toni, the harder he got. It was Toni he
was fucking, the hot swell of her ass he was grabbing, her breasts he was
pressing his face in between.

“Oh!” he
cried, balancing the edge of the Fleshlight against the soap tray, leaning his
hand on it to steady it. He imagined her there with him, bent over in the
shower, her dark hair thick and wet and curling against her bare back. He saw
her reaching behind, spreading herself for him, giving him her pussy, the red
length of her nails digging into her own skin as he fucked her. He couldn’t get
the thought out of his head and had reached the point where he didn’t even want
to try.

He gave
himself into it, thrusting deep, the ridged core of the silicone pussy urging
him on, the memory of her flesh too compelling for him to stop. Henry let himself
go, taking her in his mind, something he had refused to allow before, crossing
a line he had drawn for himself even in fantasy, and at the final moment of his
climax, he collapsed, still thrusting into Toni’s hot flesh and helplessly calling
out her name again and again.

Chapter
Seven

“Henry,
you’re not concentrating.”

“Yes I am,”
he lied. They were in her office, trying to work, but he was studying her skin,
the pale expanse of it at her throat, where her pulse beat as fast as a bird’s.
She wasn’t concentrating either.

She nudged
him. “On the word.”

“Oh.” He
glanced down at the page, scanning. He’d lost his place three times in the past
three minutes, and he’d just lost it again.

“Henry,” she
whispered, nudging him once more. “Do we have to make this any harder than it
already is?”

He ignored her
unintended pun, but his cock didn’t. Just sitting next to her, feeling the
shift of her body, hearing the sound of her breath, made him want her. It was
crazy. It was wrong. But he couldn’t help it.

“This is
where you were stuck.” She put an index card over the page, covering the line
above it, using her fingernail to point out the word. Just remembering the way
she’d raked them over his crotch made him breathless.

“World,” he
said.