Julie

You’re watching a horror flick one Friday night, alone in your living room. Your wife is gone for the weekend and your stepdaughters are both in bed— or at least up in their rooms hanging out with their friends.

At least until Julie, Emma’s good friend, asks to join you. She’s bored, you see, because she can’t sleep and Emma passed out awhile ago. She says she wants to keep you company, and once she sees the movie on in the background, she bee lines it to the couch, saying it’s one of her favorites.

It starts out innocent enough: she remains at the opposite end of the couch until about twenty minutes in, then lays down on your legs, her head resting on your thigh. Soon enough, you find your fingers are involuntarily playing with Julie’s hair, and she’s caressing your thigh.

Her head still on your thigh, her face rests mere inches from the bulge in your pants. It grows as her fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin through your pants, and, noticing it, she lets her hand drift upwards until she closes it around your length.

She looks up at you wordlessly as she fondles you through the fabric, your manhood stiffening more and more by the second. When you’re fully aroused, she releases you, then grabs your hand, her fingers intertwining with yours. Julie searches your eyes with hers, an unspoken question on her beautiful face.

You nod your head slowly, and Julie smiles mischievously, then pulls open the drawstring of your sweatpants. She licks her lips, still looking into her eyes, then shifts her gaze to your lap as she unties the string, pulls the waistband down, and pulls your cock out.