couldn’t get that look on her face out of my head. Just the thought of her using that fucking vibrator had me coming apart at the seams, and I spent the entire damn day at the garage fighting a fucking hard-on. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
When we were finally done for the day, I headed straight home, and once I was there, I didn’t waste any time getting into the shower. I’d hoped the cold water would take the edge off, but every time I closed my eyes, I pictured Olivia with that heated look in her eyes, reaching for that little pink vibrator. When I thought about her slipping it deep inside her and rubbing it against her G-spot, I couldn’t take it any longer. I turned the water to hot and took my throbbing dick in my hand, gripping my fingers tightly around my pulsing shaft. I needed to feel the bite as I started to move my hand up and down my thick cock. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was bombarded with visions of Olivia’s smooth, bare skin … her hand trailing across her perfect, round breast, reaching for her erect nipple, twisting it gently between the tips of her fingers. My breath quickened as I imagined her writhing against the soft cotton sheets with her little whimpers and moans echoing through the room. With each vision, my hand moved faster, gripped tighter and every stroke had me closer to the edge. My dick pulsed in my hand when I imagined the expression on her face as she pressed the small, pink vibrator against her clit, feeling the intensity of her orgasm surging through her body. The erotic blush of skin. Her thighs clenching. Her toes curling. Fuck. That’s all it took. My breath caught, and I came long and hard. Moments later, I stepped out of the shower with my dick still standing at full salute, taunting me with the knowledge that, unlike Olivia, my sexual frustration had only just begun.
“That friend of yours was awfully nice to help me out,” Sam told me. “Don’t reckon I’d still be around if it wasn’t for him finding me like he did.”
“I’m just glad he was able to help,” I told him. “I wanted to come see you, but Clutch told me that you didn’t think it was a good idea for me to come.”
“Didn’t want you to see me like that, doll. I was in pretty rough shape.”
His face was covered in dark blue and green bruises, and the cuts and scrapes on his hands and arms were far from healed. I couldn’t begin to imagine how bad he looked the morning Clutch found him by that dumpster. When Clutch described everything that had happened, I was heartbroken for Sam. He’d been through so much, and I hated the thought of someone hurting him, especially when it was done in such a vicious way. Sam was unarmed and was no real threat to the guys who attacked him, but they didn’t care. They took sport in hurting him, taking turns hitting and kicking him just for fun, which made the whole thing that much worse. I wanted to be there for him, but when I mentioned going to see him at the clubhouse, Clutch told me that he promised Sam that he’d keep me away until he’d gotten better. I wasn’t exactly happy about it, but I understood that they both had good intentions. It meant the world to me that Clutch had been there for Sam, but I wasn’t surprised; Clutch had a way of always being there when you needed him.
“Well, you still need to get some rest and take care of yourself. Please don’t be in a hurry to leave the clubhouse. Stay long enough to get back on your feet,” I pleaded. He still couldn’t stand up straight, much less walk without a limp, and I was worried that he was pushing himself too soon.
“I’ll stick around for a few more days, but I don’t want to outstay my welcome,” he smiled. “Those boys don’t want an old fart like me lying around there.”
“I doubt that. I’m sure they don’t mind you being there. Where will you go when you leave?”
“The shelter on Second Street. Cyrus got it all worked out for me to stay there for a bit,” he answered.