Resurrection of Crazy Jane Pt. 02

"Maybe you should lose the shirt," I heard her say from behind me. "A lot more moving left out there. You'll get hot."

Still shocked, and unfortunately getting hard yet again, I turned around and just saw her ass shimmy in those shorts as she walked outside.

My God.

--

I eventually relented and took my shirt off. I held out that first trip after the handjob episode, but it really was hot. It made me feel much better.

But oddly, she carried herself like nothing even happened. A couple smiles. Conversation to make the moving easier, especially when moving big stuff like her bed and dresser.

I just might get out of this alive!

I kept sneaking peeks at Zoey, and I was just in shock at how perfect her body was. How could she be this slim and toned? And that stacked? It boggled the mind. How in the heck did she not have every joker in this apartment complex sniffing after her? Dressed like she was?

But then again, look how I was dressed. Here I am, wearing only shorts, helping a girl move. I'm actually kind of built now, I guess. So people might think I could actually handle myself in a fight. People didn't need to know I was a pansy that had never thrown a punch.

I took stock of the situation. Here I am, with this gorgeous girl, and I'm actually not embarrassed to have my shirt off and help her move her things.

It was a surge of confidence.

We were nearly done moving her in. Just a dresser and a wooden frame for a king size bed. We tackled the dresser first, and I moved it over on its side as she grabbed the other end, and we went upstairs together.

As we walked, we simply exchanged looks at each other, like star-crossed teenagers stealing glances under the watchful eyes of their parents. At least, that's what she looked like. I had no idea what I looked like and what my body language was saying. But I assume whatever I was doing, it was encouraging her and all of her sports-bra-clad plans.

Dammit.

My head was just jumbled up. I was faithful to Beth. I didn't want to cheat on her. She was my girlfriend.

But Zoey was making it incredibly hard, no pun intended. This whole situation made me feel like I had no choice in the matter. I'd never had somebody be this forward, throwing herself at me.

This was a new experience.

When I was younger, I'd have girls kick me in the nuts, call me ugly, and run away. I got the nerve to ask a girl out during my junior year of high school, and she literally laughed in my face. If I had to hear another "you're such a good friend" speech from a girl, so help me, I was going to lose my damn mind.

Like I said, girlfriends happened for other people. Not me.

That's why I decided I was going to work out. Buy a new wardrobe. Something. Because I was sick of it. Something had to change.

Then Beth happened. And that's just how it went. It happened. There was no awkward "Will you go out with me" question. She liked me and I liked her. After a long-winded flirtation, it happened, and now, we're a couple.

She deserved respect for that. She gave me a chance. Nobody else was willing to even give me a chance.

Then comes Zoey, an obviously mentally-ill girl, probably collecting virgin types like me, hunting us for sport? How sick is that? Why find a guy you're not attracted to and titillate him until he's mush? For the ego boost?

How selfish!

At long last, we got the dresser up, which was much lighter than it looked. After grabbing pieces of her bed frame, all we had left to move was the last piece - her headboard for her bed. It was some fancy engraved thing, and it felt like it was made out of solid stone.

And why in the hell did she have a king size bed anyway?

"Jesus Christ, how is this thing so damn heavy?!" I tried to carry it by myself, but its width made it awkward. I just couldn't get my arms around it and there was really nothing else supporting its weight aside from my fingertips.

"Quit showing off," she laughed as she began to take one side from me. "I'll grab one side and we'll take it up together."

I repositioned and she took up the other side, and slowly, we took it up.

I can tell she wasn't really supporting much weight as it barely felt any lighter to me. But at least we had it off the ground.

The whole way, she kept looking at me and smiling, then looking downward. She was just so calculating. Giving me these looks on purpose because she knew it would make me insane.

Real or not, her stupid looks were exciting. I couldn't control how it made my spine tingle.

Nonetheless, it was all uncomfortable. I couldn't wait to drop this off and flee, pretending none of this ever happened.

I grunted up the stairs, but eventually made it. Once we dropped it off in her room, I immediately sat down on the floor to catch my breath.

"Fuck, was that thing made out of solid gold or something?" I complained.

She sat down next to me. She had grabbed a couple waters from the fridge and gave one to me as she slid just inches away from me.

"Nope," she said. "Just the finest hard wood money can buy."

"Clever," I retorted sarcastically. I exhaled and took a drink. Feeling self-assured after moving her things, I decided to talk with her about some things that were bothering me.

"So, uh, excited about living here?" I started with the small talk.

"Not as much as you," she teased, rubbing her hand on my thigh for a second before snatching it away. I just grunted. I had something I had to get off my chest.

"Well, listen," I said, ignoring her comment. "Please do me a favor. Living here, just, remember that Beth is, um, a really, really sweet girl, okay? Don't, you know..."

I was stumbling over myself. I needed to get out my thought, but it was so hard. No, not that. Ok, maybe it was. Kinda.

"Spit it out, Shakespeare. A sensuous man doesn't stutter."

I just glared at her. "That!" I burst out. "That shit right there! She doesn't need to hear that stuff. She doesn't like the sex talk. The innuendoes. She thinks it's vulgar. So don't do it when she's around, okay? It might, um, make her upset."

"Aww, little Beth can't handle her hard K's, huh?" she said defiantly. "Like 'cock' and 'fuck'?"

God damn, she made me squirm. Jesus!

"I'm serious!" I erupted. "If you want to be happy and drama-free living here, trust me. Just don't do it. Best behavior. OK?"

She cocked her head and looked at me with a wicked grin. "So, you said 'when she's around,'" she said, suddenly moving her face closer to mine. I just looked straight ahead and shivered. "What about when she's not around?" she half-whispered, so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face.

"That too, OK!" I said with resolve. "You need to stop this shit! We're just going to be fucking friends, got it?!"

"Hmm, fucking friends?" she said in her high-pitched, sexy voice. "I think I can do that."

With that, she again put her hand on my thigh, and I swear I hardened to my apex in three seconds flat. Her hand ran higher, eventually bumping my shaft. "Fucking friends when Beth isn't around," Zoey cooed. "Got it."

I flexed my cock at her touch, feeling as her index finger began to trace it. But it was too much.

"That ... that's it!" I yelled, getting up quickly from my sat position. "I have to go. I have to get out of here." I began looking around frantically for my shirt.

"But who's going to help me put together my bed?" she said in a whiny, pouty voice.

"Nobody!" I shouted. I found my shirt, grabbed it and put it back on. And looking at her, I realized I still had an obelisk stuffed in my shorts. So, I looked at her, adjusted my hard-on straight up under my waistband, like it was spiting her. She chuckled. But I was serious! I was pissed!

I gave her one last look, searching her face for something. Anything.

All I saw was a look of satisfaction. That's the only way I could describe it. Are you fucking kidding me?

I just turned around, grabbed my keys, and stormed the hell out of there.

To be continued...