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Pretend With Me - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2025-09-25 22:00:08 +0000 UTCThe second I came down from that high, I told Elliot to leave.
“Get out,” I snapped, still shaking, cum cooling on my skin. “Just—go.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, smirk fading into something unreadable. “Fine, man. Whatever you say.” He grabbed his shoes and left without another word.
And I couldn’t look at him again.
All week I avoided him. Didn’t reply to texts, ignored his jokes in class, even changed hallways just to dodge him. It wasn’t that I hated him—I didn’t. I just… couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle how my body reacted around him, or the way my chest tightened whenever I replayed the sound of him moaning into my mouth.
Guilt chewed at me every second. How could I not avoid him? What we’d done wasn’t normal. Not for friends. Not for guys like me.
But the worst part? Every night, when I tried to sleep, I got hard remembering it.
By Thursday, even Lila noticed.
She caught me sitting alone at rehearsal, pretending to read my script. “Hey,” she said, tilting her head. “You okay? You’ve been kinda… distant.”
My stomach dropped. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
She frowned. “You and Elliot are close, right? Did you guys fight or something? He’s been quiet too.”
I forced a laugh, throat dry. “No, we’re fine.”
But I wasn’t. And she could probably see it.
That night I decided I couldn’t keep running. I texted Elliot: Come over.
He showed up like nothing had happened, flopping onto my bed with that same careless confidence.
“Thought you were ghosting me,” he said, arms behind his head.
“I was,” I admitted.
He raised an eyebrow. “And now?”
I paced the room, fists clenched. “Now I need answers.”
He tilted his head. “About what?”
“Why are you so into this?” I snapped. “Why do you keep pushing it further? What do you want from me?”
He shrugged, still relaxed. “I told you. I’m helping you. That’s what friends are for.”
My chest burned. “But jerking each other off isn’t part of that!”
He grinned, wolfish. “But we enjoy it, don’t we?”
“The hell we don’t!” I shouted. “I don’t!”
For the first time, his smirk cracked. His eyes darkened. “So you didn’t like it when we made out? You didn’t like when you were on top of me, kissing me so hard you came in your shorts? You didn’t like when your hand was wrapped around my cock and—”
“Shut up!” I barked, face burning.
Silence stretched. He sighed, sitting up now. His eyes dropped, then flicked back to mine. “Just look at your boner right now, Adrián. You’re hard. You like this.”
I swallowed and glanced down—shit. He was right. My cock was straining in my jeans, betraying me. I scrambled to cover myself with a pillow.
Elliot shook his head, standing. “Fine. You don’t have to admit it. But I’ll say this—if you don’t like it… I help you get your girl, and you help me feel pleasure. That’s what friends are for.”
And just like that, he walked out.
The door clicked shut and I was left alone, breathing hard.
I looked down at myself. My dick was throbbing against my jeans. Rock hard.
I squeezed my eyes shut but memories flooded in—Elliot’s tongue sliding against mine, his cock twitching in my fist, the way his moans sounded desperate, like he needed me.
“Fuck…” I groaned, already unbuttoning my jeans. I shoved them down, stripped my shirt, kicked off my boxers until I was naked on the floor. My cock sprang up, red and leaking.
I wrapped my hand around it and stroked hard, fast. Precum slicked my palm as I pumped, moaning under my breath. I tried to picture Lila, but Elliot’s face kept shoving in. His smirk. His wig slipping off. His voice whispering does this make you want to kiss me?
My free hand gripped the carpet. I spread my knees, jerking faster, balls slapping against my thighs.
“Elliot…” I moaned before I could stop myself.
I bucked my hips into my fist, jerking harder, chasing that edge. I pictured him above me, grinding, stroking me the way he did. His moans in my ear. His cock leaking over my stomach.
My back arched. I gasped, “Elliot—fuck—” and came.
Cum spurted over my chest, dripping down my stomach, pooling on the floor between my knees. My hand didn’t stop until the last twitch left me shaking, panting, spent.
I collapsed onto my back, sweat cooling on my skin.
Staring at the ceiling, I whispered to myself, “Maybe I like this… I don’t know.”
But deep down, I already did.
