Read Curve Ball for Free Online

bit more shadowy and fraught.
    Why is he just stood there? Why hasn’t he said anything? He usually says something to announce himself, like “hey, look at me being all massive and funny!” But right now he’s very quiet, and even closer than I initially imagined. It’s just that he’s behind me so I couldn’t quite see, but now that I’m paying attention I can feel the material of his T-shirt brushing my bare shoulder blades.
    I wish I hadn’t allowed my shoulder blades to go bare. I went with this little light sundress due to no longer being afraid of what he might say – but it seems like a hideous mistake, at the moment. It’s putting me on high alert, even though he probably means nothing by this sudden closeness. He just came down to help me with the drinks, I think.
    And then he puts his hands on my waist.
    He puts his hands on my waist .
    Suddenly, that rational voice in my head is speaking in a panicked squeak. He’s just being super friendly, it cries. Don’t read anything into this. You’re friends, now, best friends for ever no take backs oh God please no take backs.
    But I think it might be wrong.
    I mean, granted. The sundress is very thin, and is probably making his touch far ruder than it should feel. The fine, near-slippery material rubs against my over-heated skin with very little movement from him, at all. Plus his hands are really massive, so when he touches you in one place, it kind of feels like he’s touching you everywhere.
    It could just be my sex-starved imagination, working overtime.
    And yet somehow, I know it isn’t.
    Something is weird and different here, in a way I shouldn’t be able to recognise. I’ve never had someone just spontaneously make a pass at me like this, and I’m not used to the feeling. There’s all of this strange tension, to the point where my hair is actually bristling on the back of my neck. I’m excited before I’m sure I should be excited.
    But that’s OK. Because a second later he makes it really, really clear. He simply slides one of those big hands right up to cup one of my breasts, and just when I’m able to process that little move, he tugs at the material until the buttons pop open, and pushes his hand inside.
    Then by way of explanation, he tells me this:
    ‘Why did you have to wear a dress like this, huh?’
    Which should be sort of aggressive, and rude, and not arousing at all.
    So how come it is? How come a burst of arousal goes through me to hear it – so thick and intense I actually stop breathing, momentarily. I mean, I think I pretty much gave up on normal bodily activity back when he put his hands on my waist.
    But now it’s really getting bad. I’m afraid that I might pass out due to oxygen deprivation, at any moment. I keep trying to force my lungs and throat to operate properly, only they’re not obeying. They just hitch and stick and refuse to be calm – though I can’t really fault them.
    They’re just following suit. The rest of me is doing the exact same thing. I’m all fizzy and electric, from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair, and I suspect it’s only going to get worse as this thing continues. I don’t even know what this thing is , so at the very least I can predict some apprehension.
    However … I don’t predict the moan I make, when he finds and pinches one stiff nipple. Of course I don’t. How could I ever? I was unprepared for him standing this close to me, so suddenly slipping his hand beneath my bra to fondle my bare breasts has to be right out. It’s completely off the charts of anything I’ve ever expected.
    As is everything he keeps saying. Oh God, I never imagined him saying stuff like this – not even during actual fantasies about having sex with him.
    ‘Oh yeah, you like that,’ he says, only it’s not a question. Naturally it’s not a question. I just told him I like it with my absolutely ridiculous moan. I’ve confessed to enjoying my nipples being teased without really