Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
“Come all over that big cock. Let me feel that little pussy come for me, baby girl.”
I drive my cock deep in her pussy, and when I push my thumb down between her cheeks and start to tease it in circles around her puckered little asshole, suddenly, Zara explodes.
She buries her wail of pleasure in her arm, her whole body shuddering and writhing against me as she comes hard. Her pussy clamps down on me, rippling up and down my length until I know I can’t hold back anymore. I roar as I push my cock deep, and when my balls pulse, and my cum erupts from my swollen head deep against her womb, it’s like my very soul leaves my body. I groan, just holding myself there as I pump rope after thick, sticky rope of cum deep inside of her as she comes right along with me, until finally the both of us almost collapse onto the floor right there.
I gasp for air, my mind swimming as I feel the aftershocks of her orgasm rippling through her pussy. Slowly, gently, I ease my thick cock out of her, groaning at the sight of her swollen, freshly fucked cunt with little white beads of my cum dripping from it. I reach down and tug her panties up tight against her pussy, and she whimpers eagerly as I stroke her through the cotton, feeling them start to soak with my cum and hers.
I gently pull her up, turning her in my arms and pulling her against me as she kisses me eagerly.
“Okay, so, that was amazing,” she moans.
“Maybe you should wound my ego more often,” I purr, making her giggle.
“Yeah, I think I might have to make that a regular thing now.” She winks. “Sorry. Think your ego can take it?”
“I think my ego can take any fucking thing you throw at it if it knows that’s coming next.”
She giggles, kissing me hungrily before we hear the sound of a bell.
“Shit,” she groans. “I’m late to practice.”
I grin. “Which one, music nerd?”
She rolls her eyes as she playfully sticks her tongue out at me. “Orchestra.”
She glances down, biting her lip and blushing as she eyes my thick cock, still mostly hard, and still glistening with her cum.
“Practice later?”
“Definitely,” I grin, making a show like I’m some sort of guy stripper and making her giggle as I tug my jeans back up and tuck my cock away.
“Thank you,” she purrs in this sultry voice, drawing close and kissing me.
“Anytime, baby girl,” I growl. “Anytime.”
We kiss for one more minute before another bell goes off, and she pulls away swearing.
“Shit! I’m so late.”
“Go,” I chuckle. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
I turn to watch her leave, and when she pauses at the door and looks back to blow me a kiss before she ducks away, something warm blooms through me as I lean back against the desk.
Fuck.
It takes me a full minute after she leaves to realize what it is that I’m feeling, but when it clicks, fuck does it click.
I’m falling for her. Hard.
Well, no, not falling. “Falling” implies that I’m in the process of it, or that I haven’t plunged in completely yet. But that isn’t true. I’m not “falling” for Zara.
…I already have.
And I’m not sure what that means, but goddamn does it feel good.
12
Zara
I’ve always loved the sound of an orchestra tuning up. It can sound like total freaking chaos to some people, but to me, it’s like the swell build up before a beautiful storm.
…Okay, it helps that I’m still glowing from just arriving from getting my brains fucked out by Griff and his amazing cock.
I blush, biting my lip as I settle into my seat. I’m a little sore, but it’s this amazing kind of soreness, where I just want more of it. But I can also feel something else, and that has my pulse quickening as the blush burns hot across my face. I can feel Griff’s cum dripping out of me and soaking my panties, and it’s such a naughty, wicked little secret that my arousal spikes all over again.
“Hey!”
I gasp, jolted out of my replays of what just happened by the finger tapping my shoulder. I turn, grinning at Ramona sitting behind me with her clarinet.
“Hey yourself!”
Ramona and I have been friends since freshman year here at Winchester, when we ended up sharing a piece of sheet music at orchestra tryouts—her for clarinet, me for trumpet. Four years later, even if I’m a total nerd and she’s this, like, Wonder Woman of a student. Head of the debate team, a shoe-in for class Valedictorian, first chair clarinet in the school orchestra. Oh, and to make it completely unfair, she’s also gorgeous, crazy-smart, and on the varsity cheer team.
But, despite her being more the “popular crowd” type, we’ve always bonded over stuff like music and art.