Mia: Do you think it’s possible to get carpal tunnel from masturbating too much?

This was the first one she threw at me. My brain was immediately flooded with images of her touching herself, and it took every ounce of strength in me not to get off before I replied. I should’ve answered it with something like this;

Me: Mia, I don’t think that’s an appropriate friend conversation to have. And we’re friends, so let’s not go there.

But no, I’m a complete shit with zero willpower. So instead, I answered with this;

Me: If it’s possible, I’d already have it.

Yup. Now she knew I was jerking off like a mad man. Which was the God’s honest truth. I was hoping that this was a mistake on her part and she’d realize her error and never tempt me with another text like this again. My dick was throbbing enough without the help from the images she was putting into my head. But apparently, she was just getting started.

Mia: What do you think is my best feature? Tessa says my legs, but I’m thinking my boobs. Thoughts?

Thoughts? Really? I was convinced that she was trying to kill me. She was an angel and a devil wrapped into one package that I couldn’t refuse. One that I desperately wanted to bend over my bed and f**k into tomorrow. I couldn’t ignore her. We were friends, and if this was the type of friends she wanted to be, then I could be that. I’d be hard constantly, but let’s face it, being around her was already making that an issue. So I decided to just go with it and answer honestly.

Me: Tits, mouth, ass, legs. In that order.

I thought I was golden. I thought I was going to be able to handle these sexual texts and not have my dick in my hand twenty-four hours a day. And I would’ve been, if she didn’t up the stakes.

Mia: Do guys prefer a girl that swallows to a girl that spits? I mean, isn’t the general act of sucking off a guy enough to make them happy? Does it really matter what I do with your cum?

Motherfucker. This text was reread numerous times, mainly when I was jerking myself off. Especially that last sentence. The implication of it being my cum in her mouth was too much for me. I was weak. Weak and hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Weak enough to give her a response.

Me: It’s really f**king hot when a girl swallows. But yes, the act itself is enough to make most guys not care one way or the other.

Not a big deal. I was perfectly capable of handling anything she threw at me. Or so I thought.

Mia: I was so unbelievably horny today. Guys are lucky. They can just tuck their erections away and go on about their day like they aren’t sporting wood. Girls can’t do that. I had to change my panties twice before lunch.

That does it. I wave my white flag in surrender. I don’t give her a response to that, not by text message anyway. No, my response is in the form of me pulling up to my parents’ house like a complete dick. I need to see her, especially after that last text. I should be seeing her to tell her in person that she couldn’t keep sending me messages like that. But the second her body comes into view, lounging on a chair next to the pool, every thought is wiped from my brain. I suddenly can’t remember why I am here, but that doesn’t stop me from walking around the pool and directly toward her like a man possessed. Her eyes are closed so she doesn’t see me coming. And then she opens her mouth and begins singing along to the song that is playing through her ear buds. I recognize “Crash My Party” by Luke Bryan instantly. It’s an alright song, but hearing Mia sing it makes me really like it. I stand in front of her, even more enthralled by the sight of her than I usually am as she stays completely oblivious to my presence. My girl can sing. Her voice is as beautiful as she is and she’s belting the tune out and tapping her feet on her beach towel as I enjoy the show. She hums the final notes of the song before her eyes finally open, meeting the smile that’s been plastered on my face since she got in my sight.

“Ben! Jesus Christ!” she yells, sitting up and placing her hand on her heaving chest. Her other hand pulls out her ear buds and discards them in her lap. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” I reply, thinking back to the night at the bar when I used the same words on her. Her cheeks react the same way they did that night, the slight flush that causes her gaze to wander from mine temporarily until she regains her composure. But she doesn’t have to hide her reaction to me. I like when I knock her off balance. And right now, I can’t stop looking at her. She’s all dark hair, slightly tanned skin, and big brown eyes that regard me with curiosity after she collects herself.

“I, uh, didn’t know you were stopping by today. Are you here to see Tessa because she ran out for a bit.”

For the first time since Mia’s arrival in Ruxton, I wish we weren’t alone. I wish my sister was sitting out here by the pool. I can’t be weak right now, and being alone with Mia in the insanely small bikini she is wearing is making me weak. No, f**k that. I can do this. I focus on her eyes. Only her eyes. “I think it’s a safe assumption to make that if I ever stop over here while you’re in town, I’m not here to see my sister.” Her lips part slightly as she absorbs my words. Does she really not know that I’m here to see her? I glance down at the neglected book in her lap. “What are you reading?”

Her eyes follow mine and her fingers graze the cover. “Oh, um The Giving Tree. I haven’t read it since I was little but I can’t really get into it.” She peeks up at me slowly, taking her time to reach my face. “You didn’t respond to my text.”