Page 90 of The Man I Hate

After shedding my jeans, I lowered my left bra strap. Then, I lowered the left cup, revealing my erect nipple. I did the same with the right. Then, I removed the bra as slowly and seductively as I was able. I dropped the garment at my feet and covered my breasts with my cupped hands, feigning my best look of innocence.

Just to remind him that was still wearing panties, I backed away from the camera far enough for him to see.

Facing the camera, I was dressed in nothing but a pair of lace panties and my pink hat. Still gyrating to the music, I gave him my best performance, sliding my hand inside my panties and touching myself lightly.

I was beyond aroused, and my pussy was soaked, but the dance wasn’t for me. It was a performance for a man I hoped would enjoy it. Something to take his mind off his sick father and the deteriorating condition of the nation.

With a minute left in the song, I faced away from the camera, giving Braxton a full view of my best side. As I watched the song’s remaining time on the television screen, I pushed my panties down my hips.

An inch at a time, I gave him more of me, until my panties were at my ankles.

With 20 seconds left, I was completely naked, short of my hat. Facing the television, I finished my performance and hoped he enjoyed it. As the song faded to nothing, I slowly faced the camera and titled my hat to the side.

I was fifteen feet from the phone, but it looked like he was masturbating.

I moved closer. Facing the camera with his cock in his hand, his shirt was off. His sweats were around his thighs.

Staring right at me, he was stroking his cock like his life depended on it. Turned on beyond measure and filled with a sense of self-pride for bringing him to that point of arousal, I watched as he finished his chore.

After erupting a geyser of cum into his cupped hand, he excused himself.

I’d trusted Braxton enough to reveal a secret about myself to him. Doing so cleansed me of my feelings of guilt, and it drew me even closer to the man I was slowly developing deep feelings for.

Feeling uncertain of where our relationship was headed, but pleased with where it was for the moment, I waited for him to return.

“Holy shit,” he said, stepping in front of the camera. “That was sexy as fuck.”

I grinned. “Do you feel better?”

“I do,” he replied. “Do you?”

The guilt—and my clothes—were gone. Still naked, but as comfortable as if I were clothed, I offered him a heartfelt smile.

“Yes,” I said. “I sure do.”

Anna

Day seventeen

I was tested for the virus and received negative results. Braxton drove to an independent laboratory to see if his body had developed antibodies against the disease. Although there was plenty of published data to support him no longer being contagious, he wanted scientific proof before he came in contact with others.

I yearned to be in Braxton’s presence but wanted a doctor’s clearance as much as he did. I didn’t want to be the cause for another funeral with no attendees or become the subject of a Dateline story about a wannabe nurse who died taking care of her sexy COVID-19 infected neighbor.

I sat on the couch, waiting for Braxton to return. Accustomed to having him breathing in my ear or talking to me on a video chat, the silence of his absence was unnerving. Feeling anxious, I pieced together a timeline of our makeshift relationship.

He saved me from a criminal. I became starry-eyed. We had sex. I was infatuated. He resisted. I pressed on. We had sex again, which was interrupted by a Hollywood harlot. During that disruption, he left me for the harlot.

We didn’t speak for two weeks.

He became infected with a life-threatening disease, which caused him to take a long, hard look at his life, and his actions. Thankfully, he had no symptoms.

He apologized for his actions.

Following his heartfelt apology, I felt much better about matters between us, and of the possibility that we could develop a valuable friendship.

Then, he fell ill.

Eleven days passed. During that time, the minutes seemed like hours. The hours resembled the longest of days, and the days dragged on like weeks. When it was over, my feelings about Braxton were far different than they were in the beginning.