Sincerely, Jaida

jizz

Jaida

"Buckle up unless you want Rose to see you in all your naked glory," I said.

Almost as though he was frightened at the thought, he rushed his hands to cover his manhood with his boxers and jeans. Once he had buttoned up his fly, I unlocked the door.

I turned the knob and the door opened to an irritated Rose. Of course, that expression soon changed in to shock. Her mouth was so wide open that I could fist her mouth. If I wanted to.

Sure, I was butt naked with jizz down my neck and chest and Xavier was standing behind me half naked with his hair pointing in every which direction. We were quite the image but Rose was Rose. With that being said, I don't want the rest of the gang to see mine in such a state.

So I clasped my hand on to her wrist and pulled her gaping fish face into the more than occupied bathroom and shut the door closed.

I bent down to grab the clothes strewn over the bathtub.

Thong.

Shirt.

Shorts.

Xavier's shirt.

The man himself was blushing like a virgin at a sex convention. I chucked his shirt at his red face. The bathroom was eerily silent except for the sound of us hustling to cover ourselves.

Rose was still in a state of shock. So, I occupied myself and used a wet face towel to wash off the last hour's activities off my upper body. Through the mirror, I could see Xavier trying to fix his hair and finally, Rose shook her head.

"Y'all fucking?" she asked smiling so widely, you'd think she was the one covered in jizz.

A loud cough sputtered out of Xavier's mouth.

He was squirming in embarrassment and discomfort. I chuckled loudly. "Xavier, why don't you go get some fresh air?" I asked.

"Fresh air? Yes, Yeah, fresh air. I'll go do that. Get some fresh air. In my lungs. Okay," he rambled laughing nervously. Bless the boy.

Xavier was so soft-spoken unless around me. Nice, sweet, cute and caring. He seemed to lose control when it comes to touching me. It's like he becomes a whole different person. Dirty, naughty and make-me-sin sexy. I liked both of him.

Once he left the room, I faced Rose's sneaky smile.

Weighing my options, I decided to feign innocence. "Don't be so vulgar, and no, we are not fucking," I snapped.

"Yet."

We were both smirking at each other at that point. I knew she knew, I knew that she knew what happened in that bathroom. Call it best friend's intuition.

"Spill, you feisty whore," she said mockingly.

I gasped at her words but nonetheless, settled down cross-legged in the bathtub alongside her. Fifteen minutes passed as I rehashed the events of the last few days.

I omitted a few details. I didn't tell her the real reason I left him at his doorstep, instead, I told her I was feeling sick. Her expression of shock was almost comical when I told her how he and I spooned on the couch. We both giggled and screeched in excitement as I gave her the saucy explanation for why there was dried jizz on the tiled floors. She wasn't disgusted but proud. 

We had finished talking when we heard yelling and laughing outside. She left the bathroom so I could clean up the mess.

I got down on my knees, again.