Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“At this point, I think swearing is the least of my sins. Don’t you?”
“I suppose so. Did you…I mean, since it was your first time doing that…” She paused. “Did you like it?”
The insecurity in her tone both surprised me and bothered me. Why was she insecure? Did she not realize how incredible she felt and the way she sounded? I wrapped my free hand around my erection, giving in.
“I think I mentioned that I haven’t washed my hand. And you must have been able to tell I shot a load in my pants. I wasn’t subtle about it.”
More rustling, then a soft sigh.
“I was just checking. We didn’t get to talk about it after, thanks to the unwanted calvary.”
I grinned.
“Well, in their defense, there was a wake of destruction around us.”
“Mmm,” she said. “It was fine. Not like we could have done anything to stop it.”
I chuckled. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wished they’d given us another twenty minutes.” Or an hour.
“Twenty minutes, huh? What would we have done?”
More rustling. She was in bed. That was the covers. I squeezed my dick.
“Found a light, for starters. I wanted to see your tits again.”
“Oh,” she breathed. She was aroused.
“Stood you up and pulled those shorts and soaked panties off so I could look at your pussy,” I told her as I started slowly pumping my cock.
“Ohh.”
“Saylor.”
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?” I asked, already knowing but wanting the image painted for me.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “But I’m in bed, and hearing your voice, talking about it…I just need to touch myself a little.”
Fuck. That’s a good girl. Or a bad one. A very bad one who was going to be my undoing.
“What are you wearing?” I asked, closing my eyes.
“A nightie. It’s light pink.”
Jesus.
“Panties?”
“No,” she said just above a whisper.
I let out a low groan as pre-cum leaked from my tip.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Sitting on my sofa with my cock in my hand, pumping it while imagining you in a pink nightie with your legs spread open and those dainty fingers of yours sliding over your wet pussy.”
“Oh God,” she moaned.
“You have no idea how bad I want my mouth there, lapping up all that wetness. So that it’s all I can smell, your taste coating my tongue.”
“Jude,” she gasped into the line. Her soft voice sent jolts of heat straight to my cock. “I want to feel you inside me. Stretching me. I felt it. It’s big. I want that being thrust inside me over and over.”
I was gonna come. I pinched the head to stop myself. Not yet. I wasn’t ready for this to end. “Your little hole is so tight. You squeezed my two fingers so hard; I wasn’t sure if you could take more.”
“Ah, yes. Fuck, I can. I want it. Buried so deep.” She moaned my name again.
I wasn’t going to be able to hold it back. “Mmm, those blue eyes looking up at me as I explode inside you.”
“Oh. OH. I want to feel your cum fill me, shoot into me, leak from my pussy,” she said, then cried out.
That image, those words.
My hips came off the sofa as I let out a low growl while my cum shot out pump after pump, thinking of her legs open to see her pussy as my semen oozed out slowly. I jerked, spasmed, and groaned.
I sat there, covered in my release, breathing hard. I’d have ended up jerking off to her anyway tonight. Having her in my ear while I had done it was a million times better.
“Jude.”
“Dimples.”
A soft laugh. “I didn’t mean to start that.”
No, but I thought I had. “You didn’t.”
“It felt good though. Not as good as when you did it, but still.”
My cock twitched. “Yeah, do me a favor and don’t talk about how good it felt when I did it.”
“Why?”
“Because that’ll get me worked up again.”
She went quiet.
“Why are you going to be late tomorrow?” I asked. Not that she had to be there at all. I just wanted her there. Close.
“I have to get a new car,” she replied. “I wouldn’t worry about it, but if I don’t get one, then one of them will be dropping me off and picking me up. I’d rather them not.”
I needed confirmation on who all of “them” were. Something about the way she referred to them as cousins or family felt off. They were all tall, muscular, and the way they looked…yeah, I wasn’t crazy about it. Women would throw themselves at them. Even the one she’d said was her uncle. I could believe that her family’s DNA had produced a bunch of males that looked like that because she was breathtaking. But something didn’t sit right. And I thought I hated the one named Gathe.
“How many cousins do you have? Seems like your extended family is all male, except you. Are they all brothers?”