Текст книги "Taint"

Автор книги: S. L. Jennings

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

“TODAY’S LESSON IS actually very simple. So let’s get straight to the point, shall we? Open the cases in front of you.”

I wait for the sounds of metal latches and the horrified intake of eleven breaths, but I don’t look at any of them. I don’t make eye contact. Not today.

“What are we supposed to do with these?” Lorinda. Or maybe Maryanne. Or…fuck if I care.

“Suck them.”

“What?” Another Mrs. Fucktease von Clueless.

“You’re going to learn how to suck them,” I say louder, my voice carrying throughout the room. I close my eyes and count to ten in an attempt to get a handle on my shit.

“Now if you’ll all be so kind as to remove the dildos from your case and, using the suction at the bottom, attach them to the table in front of you, we can begin.”

“You really expect us to do this?” another asks, her whiney voice making me cringe. “It’s disgusting and degrading.”

“And that’s exactly the train of thought that forces your husband’s dick into your nanny’s mouth.”

“That’s sick!”

“That’s the fucking truth.” I massage the back of my neck and take a leveling breath. It’s completely silent, save for the sound of incessant pounding in my skull.

I’m hungover.

And not, like, a little hungover.

I’m a lot hungover.

Plus, I look like shit. I didn’t shave and only had time to hit the hot spots in the shower before class started. My simple tan slacks and white linen shirt are unpressed and my hair is just finger-combed. And my mouth tastes like a raw oyster that’s been sitting under the desert sun all day.

Like I said, I look like shit. And I probably smell like I bathed in that fifth of Jack instead of drinking it, now that it’s seeping out of my pores.

I swallow against the dryness on my tongue, but to no avail. “Look, if you want to learn how to do this shit and do it right, I’ll teach you. If you’re too hung up on stereotypes, or think Jesus won’t love you over giving a little head, then there’s the door. So what’s it gonna be, ladies? You want your husband to look at you as a housewife? Or as his own, personal whore? You choose.”

No one answers, yet they all stay deathly still in their seats, staring in delightful horror at the 8-inch, flesh-toned dildos in front of them.

“Good,” I nod with a grimace. Fuck, that hurts.“Let’s begin.”

“DON’T BE AFRAID of it, Maryanne. It won’t bite you.”

I watch as the matronly woman slides her trembling lips over the tip of the silicone penis. Her pink tongue gives it a lick before she eases her head down, taking it into her mouth completely.

“Good. That’s good. Let it touch the back of your throat and gently suck as you pull out slowly.”

She complies, looking up at me with big, brown eyes, seeking validation. I pat her on the back and nod before moving on to the next housewife.

“Shayla, use your tongue, baby,” I croon, resting a warm hand on her shoulder as I squat down next to her. “Lick the tip when you pull up. Swirl it around the head. Imagine tasting those little drops of precum. That’s how you know he’s ready for you; you’re making him feel good. Now, when you ease it back into your mouth, put pressure on the underside of his shaft.”

Just like Maryanne, Shayla does exactly what I say, even letting her eyes close as she imagines the feel of a hot, pulsing cock sliding between her lips. I almost smile with pride, when a moan rumbles the back of her throat. She feels it too. The thought bringing a man to his knees with her mouth is getting her hot. Shit, it’s even getting me a little hot.

Beside Shayla, Lacey is trying to suck the plastic off her rent-a-dick.

“Slow down, Lacey. Slow. Sensual. Take your time.” I place my hand on the back of her head and push it down slowly, forcing her to match my tempo. “Slow, sweetheart. Just like that. Taste every inch; savor it. Put more of it in your mouth, baby. Yeah…all the way to the back of your throat.”

I gently grip her hair when she lets out a muffled groan. “Ok, now a little faster. Suck it harder, baby, but still be soft. Put that pretty, wet mouth all over it.”

Pulling her hair a bit, I speed up until Lacey’s head steadily bobs up and down. When she takes hold of the dildo and begins fisting it enthusiastically as she sucks, I let go and take a step back, admiring the little monster I’ve created.

I actively engage the women as they explore the art of oral copulation, getting off on their obvious discomfort and inexperience. This is exactly what I need to distract me from the pressure at my temples, and the rage resting at the back of my neck. Not to mention the niggling ache in my chest. I shut it out. I shut it all out, focusing only on my work. Which is exactly what the fuck I should have been doing all along. Not humoring a silly woman while she cries about her cheating bastard of a husband and failed fraud of a marriage. Not sitting through dozens of episodes of mindless drivel and eating lard while she nestles against my side like the cocktease that she is. And not letting her lead me to believe that I was anything more than the hired help, damn near the equivalent of a gay BFF.

How did I get to this? How in the fuck did I lose sight of what I am and what I stand for so easily?

I can’t even really blame her. She’s simple and vapid and shallow. She couldn’t drown in the depth of her petty thoughts. So I can’t hold her responsible for the state that I’m in. Ilet this happen. Ilet her in when I swore that would never happen. I should’ve known better. I knew what type of person she was since the day she made it clear that I was an outsider. A nobody. Not even good enough to be fucking honest with. I was a shiny new toy to play with, then discard when she grew tired of me.

My thoughts lead me to the mahogany desk she’s stationed at, but I don’t look at her. I only know it’s her by her shoes—those same sandals that would slap against the pavement when she’d intrude on my nights by the pool. The same sandals that she’d slip off before tucking her feet under her ass and curling her body next to mine.

I hate those fucking sandals. I should have told her that. No man wants a woman that wears sandals. They want women that wear heels. Platform stilettos. Heels that look damn sexy when they’re sitting on our shoulders or wrapped around our waists. Ain’t shit sexy about sandals. They’re one tier up from flip-flops, which are barely a step away from Crocs.

Fucking Crocs.

“You’re doing it wrong,” I blurt out gruffly, before my little reflective moment takes a turn for the worst.

“What?”

I still don’t look at her. I just keep my eyes trained on those sandals and her little, pink-tipped toes peeking out of them. Even her toes are adorable.

Hmph. Adorable.

I’ve never been a fan of adorable. Chubby-cheeked babies are adorable. Puppies are adorable. Sometimes even little old ladies named Ethel. None of those things equate sexy.So neither should she.

“I said, you’re doing it wrong,” I say more sternly.

“I heard that.” Her voice is small and sad. Just like she is. A small, sad, adorable woman. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?” She sounds defeated. Like she wanted so bad to succeed at this so she could give Evan the blowjob of his life, ensuring that he’d never stray. Like she wanted to be the Superhead of the Upper East Side and boast her talents on a billboard in Times Square.

“Yeah. You’re doing everything wrong.” Sorry, Superhead Junior. No book deal for you.

I start to turn away, somewhat satisfied with myself, when her small, sad voice stops me in my tracks.

“Can you teach me how?”

Can I teach her how?

Can I teach her how?

I bite back my initial response—which would probably consist of me telling her exactly where she could go, how, and with what shoved up her tight, frigid ass—and take a moment to breathe before formulating a more professional response. “If you need extra help, Mrs. Carr, I suggest you make an appointment during business hours.”

“An appointment?” I can hear the confusion and hurt in her voice.

“Yes. An appointment. That’s what clients make when they find that they require more assistance than usual. When their inexperience stifles their progression. I can’t give you extra attention just because you seek it, and take precious class time away from others. That would be foolishof me, don’t you think?” I answer tersely, giving her back her own words.

Her face contorts as if I’ve just slapped her, her eyes twice their size and mouth agape. “What are you doing?” she whispers, though it’s already too late. We have an audience. And right now, these gossip mongers smell fresh shit to stir. Still, I lean in close, invading her personal space and stealing her air. I want her as uncomfortable as I am. I want her just as exposed and humiliated and wounded as she’s made me.

“I’m doing my job, Mrs. Carr. Exactly what your husband paid me for.”

BY THE TIME I dismiss the ladies for the day, I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically. Everything hurts. I can’t think of one part of me that doesn’t ache with every step I take back to the refuge of my home. And it’s not just my body that feels it. I’m too tense, too edgy. I feel like I could explode at any given moment.

I know I fucked up in class at the way I spoke to Ally, but shit, she needed it. She needed to see who I am…and what she’s left of me. As much as I hate it, she caused the mess that I am right now. So, Bravo, Allison Elliot-Carr. You’ve single-handedly fucked up my day and given me blue balls. And you’ve reminded me why I despise people like you…why I hate the world you come from, and why I’ve emancipated myself from it.

Thank you, Ally. It’s bitches like you that create coldhearted bastards like me.

“Hey!”

I hear the slap of those damn sandals again, and my skin goes clammy and hot. I try to shake it off and keep walking, ignoring her approach.

“I said, Hey!You wanna tell me what the hell your problem is?”

“Make an appointment, Mrs. Carr,” I bark out without turning to address her as I fumble with the lock at my front door. Goddammit, I don’t have time for this shit.

“I don’t give a damn about your appointments, Justice. Why are you acting like this?” Her voice is right here, right behind me. I can nearly feel her warm breath at my back. With her this close, her heat mingling with mine, I can’t even respond. I’m too tired for this shit. Too exhausted to even try to make sense of what’s happened between us. Maybe I imagined it all. Maybe Ally was completely innocent and platonic with me. I could’ve misread her signals. Shit, maybe she really didlook at me as her gay BFF.

“Hey,” she says softly, placing a hand on my sweat-dampened back. “Talk to me.”

I didn’t realize how much I could miss a simple touch until I didn’t have it anymore. It’s so easy to let her back in. To let her wiggle her way back into my arms and smile up at me like she is the sun and I am every star in her sky.

When you spend your life in the dark, looking up and wishing for something better—something brighter—you don’t realize just how lonely you are. Not until the sun shines, shedding light on all the empty spaces and filling them with beautiful warmth. But when the sun abandons you, everything seems darker and colder than before.

Emptier.

Lonelier.

I force myself to push open the door and step inside, not even sure if she’s trailing behind me. When I turn around, she’s standing in my living room. I want her to stay; I want those smiles and that maniacal laugh and her cheesy jokes. But I don’t want this feeling that will return full force when she leaves again. I can only do this once, so for all intents and purposes, I’m going to do it right.

“What do you want, Allison?”

She hesitates, looking around the room to stall. I turn back around and begin to make my way to the bedroom. “Let yourself out.”

“Wait,” she calls out. “I just…please, Justice. I can’t leave things like this.”

I face her with a huff, my annoyance as palpable as the friction hanging between us. “Like what?”

“I know I hurt you and-”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Oh.” She looks surprised, like she expected to have wounded me. Like she just knew that she was that fucking important to my happiness. She nods as if she’s just realizing that she isn’t. Not even close. “Well, I know I shouldn’t have led you on to believe we…that there could be more than friendship between us.”

I take a step toward her, a mocking smirk on my lips. “Is that what you thought it was?”

“What do you mean?” she frowns.

“What—you thought I was your friend? You thought I actually liked you? That I wanted us to grow into something more?” I laugh sardonically, the sound harsh and too loud even to my own ears. “Allison, you are a client. An obligation. Not my friend. I don’t have friends, and if I did, I surely wouldn’t seek one in you.”

“What?”

I move in fast, anger and aggravation guiding each step, until I’m a meager inch from her face. Fear sparks those turquoise eyes and she gasps in surprise, those soft, sweet lips trembling. I imagine biting them, sucking them into my mouth and tasting that trepidation.

“Did I fucking stutter? You’re not my friend, and you never will be. Are you friends with your maids? Your driver? The person that walks your rat of a fucking dog and picks up its shit? You paid me for a service, and I provided it. End of story.”

She finally finds the good sense to take a step back, disgust etched in that beautifully blemished face. “Why are you acting like this? How can you say that we were never friends, Justice? I told you things. Personalthings. And you acted like you genuinely cared. You were so attentive and nice-”

“Nice? Nice?”I shout, the sound piercing my cranium. The pain is nothing compared to the ache spreading in that cold, hollow space in my chest. The space the sun no longer touches. “I’m not fucking nice, Ally. Ain’t shit nice about me.”

She squints like she’s just now seeing me for the very first time. “So it seems.”

“Good.” I turn back around, expecting to feel triumphant. Yet, that empty ache just keeps spreading until it’s in my throat, choking me. I can barely breathe, but I can’t let her see that. I can’t show her what she’s done to me… what she’s doing to me now. “You can leave,” I croak, through the pressure on my vocal cords.

I stand stock-still until I hear the click of the door behind me. I exhale, releasing a sound that’s too broken and ragged to have possibly come from me. I don’t feel like myself. I feel like an imposter has crawled its way into my body, sheathed my skin, and controlled my bones like shifting gears. He said those things to Ally, not me. Yet I’m the one left with the fallout.

The pressure in my chest and throat rage on like rising bile, and I work to strip off my clothing, desperate to wash away the remains of her on my body. The water in the shower is hot, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything, yet everything all at once, emotion and sensation overwhelming me to the point of numbing pain. It’s all too much to digest, all too much to keep perfectly contained under my cloak of detachment. I’m failing at the one thing I’ve always done so well—not giving a fuck.

I taste salt in the water that sprays over my face, as another broken sound heaves from my throat. I lean up against the shower wall to prepare to be sick, although the discord isn’t in my stomach. I slam my fist against the slickened tile and choke out a frustrated curse. I need relief. I’m breaking from the inside out, and if I don’t purge this sickness from my body, it’ll consume me like a cancer.

I run my fingers over my length and watch through blurry eyes as it awakens at my command. It hardens almost instantly, and I exhale with relief at the first stroke of my hand. It feels good, almost good enough to eclipse the pressure in other regions of my body. Eager to chase that feeling, I cup my heavy balls with my other hand and a deep, throaty moan escapes me. I close my eyes and give myself over to pleasure and nothing else.

My strokes grow urgent and desperate, and I pant loudly with painful exertion. I feel relief closing in, shooting from the base of my spine and infecting my muscles with white heat. Sensation prickles my thighs and crawls its way to my groin. It sinks into my balls and tightens into a hot, throbbing knot, stealing every ounce of strength from my body in preparation for release.

Just a couple more strokes and I’ll be free. I’ll be emancipated from whatever bullshit feelings I ever had for Ally. Everything we had will soon be washed away down the drain until it’s dissolved into nothing.

If I hadn’t been so consumed with the feel of my hand squeezing this affliction from my cock, I would have known I wasn’t alone. I would have at least sensed movement on the other side of the shower door. I would have felt those cerulean eyes on me, my most vulnerable moments on display through the frosted glass. And I would have anticipated the cool air hitting my bare back as the door slides open behind me.

I BITE BACK the groan on my tongue and open my swollen eyes, but I don’t turn around to face my intruder. I know she’s there, but I can’t let her see me like this—eyes reddened with tears and dick hard and throbbing in my hand. She already sees me as a savage—someone to corrupt her perfect, little existence and replace it with something wild and deviant. Maybe I am. Maybe I really am the villain in this. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The door slides closed, and I sigh with relief and exasperation. She’s seen what she needs to see. She’ll go back to Evan, realizing that her place was with him the entire time. And me… I was just a placeholder.

Warm hands wrap around my waist, and I flinch at the unexpected feel of soft skin, such a contrast from my own. I look down at her delicate hands on my stomach as Ally runs her fingers over my abs. I want to ask her what she’s doing, but I’m too afraid she’ll stop. I just want her to touch me, even if it is a lie.

Her hands sink further, and I jerk when she wraps a palm around my still-hardened length, swollen from lingering on the brink of release. “Ally,” I groan through a sob. I can’t tell if it’s out of pleasure or pain.

“Shhh,” she whispers, her lips on my skin. “Just let me do this. Please.”

She kisses my back as her hand slowly strokes my dick. It pulses wildly under her fingertips, excitement and anticipation running through the rigid veins. Her fingers caress the tip before she twists her wrist and takes it all into her hand, squeezing with perfect pressure. With the warmth of her skin gripping my blistering heat, the slickness of the hot water, and her lips trailing kisses on my back, I’m drowning in sensation.

She feels so good here, touching me, exploring the most intimate parts of me. With her hand still fucking me, her other reaches around to cup my balls. She twists her hand around my dick with each stroke, and then gently pulls with the other. Stroke, pull, stroke, pull. It’s not painful, but the mix of sensations is driving me insane. The rotating grip of her hand on my dick makes me want to come, spurting my seed all over the shower wall. Yet, the gentle pulling at my base forces me to hold back, prolonging the intense pleasure.

I’m fucking astounded.

The need to touch her, to kiss her, becomes overwhelming, and I reluctantly turn around to face her. I watch those eyes grow wide with wonder as she takes in my naked body, my dick standing tall and proud. It brushes the middle of her belly, still covered by her dress, now soaked completely through. It clings to her wet body like a second skin, and her auburn hair sticks haphazardly to her face and neck.

“Justice…” she whispers, her gaze taking in every inch of my frame. Her lips tremble, either from fear or from being wet and cold. “You’re…you’re beautiful.”

I wrap her in my arms, and the moment my lips touch hers, I feel revived. I hadn’t breathed since she walked away from me the night before. I didn’t know I was a dying man until I had her life on me– in me –tasting of hope and forgiveness. She winds her arms around my neck, and my hands make work of stripping off her soaked clothing, eager to feel her skin slipping against mine. I push her up against the shower wall and pull away just long enough to whip her dress over her head. Her bra is next, and the tiny scrap of lace that is her panties, quickly follows.

I know I should go slow and take my time with her; I may not get another chance to kiss an angel again. But with the taste of Ally on my tongue, and her soft, smooth skin pressed against mine, sharing my heat, I can’t even think about stopping now.

Reading my mind, she wraps her leg around my thigh, and we’re right back to where we were nearly 24 hours ago—me between her legs and her ankles locked at my waist. Yet without the barrier of our clothes, my dick slides right against her soft slit. All I have to do is bend my knees a bit and thrust, and I’ll be inside her.

As badly as I want to be buried balls deep within her walls, I want to make this last. I want Ally to remember this moment forever, even if it is a fluke. Even if I never touch heaven again. I want her to remember that I commanded her body like no one else, and gave her what she craves. What she’s never been given before.

With her riding my waist, I suck a pebbled nipple into my mouth, while plucking the other with my fingers. Ally gasps loudly and digs her short fingernails into my shoulders. My other hand holds her up by her bare ass, and I let it slip down further, finding her wet entrance. With my dick rubbing rhythmically against her clit, I insert the tip of a finger inside her pussy, causing her to cry out. She’s tight, yet I feel her throbbing, begging for me. I push in further and begin to finger-fuck her slowly, still teasing her clit with my cock while laving her breasts with my tongue.

I’m an excellent multi-tasker.

When I push in a second finger, I feel her walls quiver, approaching orgasm. She pants wildly, moaning, scratching at my hair and shoulders. I pick up the pace of my hips and fingers, and suck and nibble her nipples even harder.

“Wait, wait, oh God,” she whines.

“What?” I answer against her puckered nipple. I slow down, but I don’t stop. I couldn’t stop even if I tried.

“Something’s wrong with me. I feel weird. Oh…no…it’s too strong…oh.”

I resume my rhythm and smile slyly against her heated skin. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re coming, baby. You’re coming for me.”

I press the tip of my dick directly on her clit and hold it, and her snug pussy pulses out of control. With a strangled cry, Ally’s body goes rigid, before a flood of her wetness completely drenches my fingers and collects in my palm. I ride out the waves of her orgasm, easing the friction on her clit and letting my mouth trail up to hers to kiss her deeply, swallowing her little mewls of pleasure.

She pulls her lips from mine, her face flush and eyes sleepy. “I saw colors. So many colors popping, glittering my sky.” Ally smiles, and light touches every cold, empty space within me. “Fireworks.”

I slip my fingers from her still-shivering sex and put them in my mouth, savoring her taste before the water can wash it away. “I’m not done with you yet.”

With her still in my arms, I turn off the water and slide open the shower door. She squeals and laughs when the cold air hits us, burying her wet face into the crook of my neck. I laugh right along with her as I awkwardly make my way into the bedroom, dick still rock hard, and her tight frame wrapped around me like a spider monkey. We flop onto the bed, dripping wet, and I pull the covers over us as I nestle between her thighs.

“Justice, I just want to say I’m-”

I place a finger over her lips before she can finish. “Shhhh. Don’t. It’s me who should apologize. But not now. I don’t want to think about anything else but this. Nothing else but your body and what I plan to do to it for the rest of the night.”

She kisses my finger and grasps my hand to slide the tip of the digit between her lips, nipping at it playfully. “Do your worst, Drake.”

I kiss her deeply, consuming every bit of her mouth. She wraps her arms and legs around me, and my dick slips between her folds, my swollen head nudging her wet slit. I rock my hips back and forth, reigniting that delicious friction from the shower, and Ally moans against my tongue.

“Oh God, put it in. Put it in, please,” she whines.

“Put what in, sweetheart?” I smirk, looking down at her hungry expression.

“It.”

“It?” I shake my head and press in a little further, my tip right at her entrance. “What’s It, Ally? If you want it, you have to say it.”

She squeezes her eyes tight, and a beautiful flush paints her cheeks. “Your cock. I want your cock in me. Please.”

Gritting my teeth, I drive into her—probably harder and faster than I should have—but shit, I’m as anxious as she is. Ally’s eyes pop open with shock and her lips round into an O. A strangled cry gets stuck in the back of her throat.

“This?” I pant, the feeling of her tight body enveloping mine almost too much take. “Is this what you were referring to?”

She nods her head frantically, trying to swallow a whine. “Yes. Yes. Now shut up…and fuck me.”

The words ring in my head like a sweet melody, as if Ally’s just opened Pandora’s box and unleashed every lustful desire within me. I pull out to the tip and push back into her, feeling the tightness quiver and stretch for me.

God, she feels good. Toogood. So good that every nerve ending within me is flashing bright red, signaling me to stop. I pull out quickly, before the feel of her dissolves every ounce of common sense I have left.

“What?” she rasps, an almost pained look on her face.

“Fuck,” I grit in frustration. I reach over to the nightstand and retrieve a condom from the top drawer. Ally’s eyes grow large at the sight of the little shiny package.

“Oh,” she whispers, trying to look at anything but me, as I tear it open.

“Yeah.” I slip out the latex and position it over the head of my dick, still glistening with her sweetness.

“Wait.” Ally’s hand is over mine, pulling the condom away. “Wait. You don’t have to… you don’t have to use it. I trust you. And I hope…I hope you trust me too.”

I sit back on my heels so I can assess her face clearly. “I do. I trust you, but…” Fuck. How do I say that it’s Evan that I don’t trust? That I shouldn’t do this because of his sketchy-ass habits?

“We always use condoms,” she says, reading my mind. “Always. I don’t trust him. But…Justice, I trust you.”

I toss the condom aside, not giving a fuck where it lands, and lie back over Ally’s body, hungrily sucking her tongue, while I slowly push my cock into her. She hums her appreciation, smiling against my lips, as I rock my pelvis upwards, ensuring that I graze that sweet spot. She works her own hips with mine, meeting me thrust for thrust, sucking me deeper into her.

Why is she here?I wonder to myself as I slide my hand under her ass, leveling it so she can take all of me.

I mean, I’m glad as fuck that she came, but Ally has no business being here at Oasis. There’s nothing wrong with her. Not a goddamn thing. The way she moans and mewls, while kneading and scratching my back; the way her soft thighs squeeze my waist, telling me to go deeper; the way her body moves perfectly with mine, as if we were made to do this. As if it was specifically designed to meld with mine… Ally doesn’t need any help on how to be a good lover. She already is. She’s already more than I could ever hope for. And part of me always knew she would be.

Fire licks up my thighs and ignites embers at the base of my balls, and I know that all sense of control will be relinquished inside her walls soon enough. Her pussy begins to quiver, coaxing that ball of fire from me. I feel her getting wetter for me, ready to extinguish my fire with her own flood of surrender.

One hand under her ass, and the other reaching down to rub her clit, I pick up the pace of my thrusts, eager to drown in her warm waters. Ally cries in ecstasy, and her fingers find her breasts where she begins to squeeze and pinch. I lean over and suck a hardened nipple into my mouth, then lick the other as Ally presses them together, offering them to my tongue and teeth.

I fuck her entire body, submerging her in sensation. She’s hoarse from moaning, screaming my name. Chanting how good I fucking feel. How deep I am. How she wants me to keep going and never stop. Never, ever fucking stop or I-will-fucking-die-please-oh-please-don’t-stop.

Her back arches off the bed until only her shoulders remain on the mattress, and I feel her explode from the inside out. Her eyes are shut tight and her mouth is open, but no sound comes out.

“Yeah, that’s right baby,” I say gruffly, still pushing inside her. “Keep going. Keep coming for me.”

She’s gorgeous. Savagely beautiful. I just want to watch her fall apart over and over again until she’s too numb to move. But watching her so vulnerable and wild while her insides tremble around my dick, has my own orgasm seizing my spine. I want to slow my thrusts, but it’s already too late. My back is tight, and my fingers are gripping her hips, driving into her one last time. I crawl as deep inside Ally as I possibly can, singeing her womb with my hot seed. Marking her pussy so there’s no denying that, not only have I been here, I possessed it.

I collapse on top of her, exhaustion covering me like a heavy cloak. Only my shaky elbows keep me from crushing her petite frame.

“What lesson was that?” she asks, a sleepy grin on her lips. I kiss them, tasting the sun.

“No lesson, baby. Something that damn incredible can’t be taught.”

“COKE OR PEPSI?”

“Coke.”

“Pepperoni or Sausage?”

“Pepperoni.”

“Action movies or comedy?”

“Is there a point to this?”

“We should talk. I like getting to know you. So answer the question, Secret Squirrel.”

“Action. Now shut up so I can feed you.”

I slide the cold spoon between her lips, and she licks it clean of every bit of ice cream. “Mmmmm. Figures you’d pick Action.”

I steal a bite for myself, the icy treat tasting even better after working Ally’s body like her own erotic personal trainer. “Why’s that?”