She smiled to herself. He couldn't see her eyes, the way they burned into his crotch, or the way she licked her lips. She could see the outline of his cock, how hard it was, how it was lengthening. God, she said to herself, am I going to have the courage? Am I?
"Steve," she said, again her voice so soft it was a gentle caress.
"Yes. yes, Melissa?"
In a second, they brushed over his erect penis. They touched. He flinched. He held her close with his arm around her neck.
"Steve, do you mind… do you… if I touch your prick?"
The moment this word shot into Stephenson's ear, his young handsome prick exploded, spurting come all over the shorts, his cock throbbing and doing a crazy dance as her fingers lay lightly upon it, her face buried in his shoulder.
Chapter Four
Suddenly Steve began shivering and his arm shook as he held her around her neck.
"What is it?" Melissa sat back with just the suggestion of alarm in her voice and eyes.
Poor Steve was humiliated, mortified. How could he answer?
"What is it, Steve? Are you well?"
He felt like crying.
"Are you okay?" she urged.
His entire body trembled again and she held him as a mother would a young child. She rubbed her cheek across his brow as if she were trying to determine the presence of a fever.
"It's nothing," he said slowly.
"It is something," Melissa said firmly. It was plain to Steve that she had no idea that his young prick had already blasted off inside his shorts.
"Well," Steve began, "I just had a little accident. Not much to talk about," he added. His embarrassment was waning now and he was feeling that wonderful sense of afterglow. His prick was still throbbing, probably spitting more come into his shorts.
"What?" she pressed on. Melissa was sitting back still with a look of alarm, although it was vanishing. Again she rubbed her cheek against his brow. "You're very warm."