Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
My mouth went dry, and I had nothing to say to that. Instead, I lifted my hips off the bed so he could take my pants off more easily. He took the invitation for what it was, and took off my jeans. My panties were exposed, and suddenly I felt immensely embarrassed. If I had known I was going to be doing this today, I wouldn’t have worn these.
Studying my panties with a smile he said, “Angry Birds, eh? Are these boy’s underwear?”
My face went up in flames. Taking the pillow on the bed next to my head, I buried my face into it. “Oh, my God. Omygodohmygod!”
“It’s cute. I didn’t realize grown women could wear boy’s underwear, but strangely, you wear them well. I don’t think I’ll look at an Angry Bird the same way again.” Max chuckled.
Throwing the pillow off my face, I scowled at him with the fierceness of a rabid badger. “You don’t know how freaking hard it is to find things in my size. I’m so freaking small that everything fits weird. Panties from the women’s department fit like granny panties. So I shop in the boys section for socks and underwear.”
He watched me with his sparkling eyes, and then burst out laughing. “You just made me a happy man. Can I have a picture of you in these before I leave?”
The mention of him leaving brought me out of my embarrassment. Now I just felt sadness. I wish I’d taken him up on that relationship offer months ago. Now he was leaving, and who knew when I would see him again. Reaching up, I ran my hand down over his scratchy haired jaw. He was such a beautiful man.
“Take me.” I whispered while looking deep into his eyes.
“I’ve never wanted to do anything more in my life.” He said, and then kissed me senseless.
His tongue worked over mine, plunging and tangling, sucking my bottom lip, and then nipping it softly. He grunted, and then I was shirtless, too. I bit my lip. I wasn’t self-conscious about my body, or I wasn’t until Max started running his eyes over my body hungrily.
My body reminded me of most fourteen year olds. Short, no boobs, and absolutely no curves. I worked out from time to time, so I was in fairly decent shape, but you can’t fix something you don’t have. I was a soccer player in high school, and still enjoyed the odd game here and there when I had time.
He growled in frustration. I was wearing a camisole underneath my shirt, just as I normally did. I’m a very clumsy person, and I end up changing my shirt at least once a week because I dripped queso down my boobs, or leaned in something, requiring me to change my shirt. Therefore, I got smart and always wore a camisole instead of a bra, because honestly I didn’t need one anyway.
“You’re beautiful. Stop worrying.” He said before running his finger over my lip to stop me from biting it.
His eyes zeroed in on the tattoo that peaked out at the bottom of my camisole. I held my breath in anticipation. What would he think of it? I got it on a whim. It was my eighteenth birthday, and I felt the need to do something that would piss my parents off. Earlier that day they had grounded me for sneaking out the night before. For that reason, I snuck out again and got a tattoo that I knew they would hate.
His large rough palmed hand ran up my left side, slowly lifting my shirt as he skimmed it up my body. He froze when he saw it. Then bellowed with laughter. I scowled at him, and then cracked a smile myself. It was a weird tattoo, but I loved it.
On my hip, I sported a six-shooter. It spanned from just above my hipbone, down to right at the top of my bikini line on my thigh. It was actually quite beautiful with its elegant scrollwork on the shiny metal. It looked like an old west type of gun, and I was damn lucky I’d gone to a reputable tattoo artist, instead of one that would have made it look like shit.
His laughing stopped, and finally he said, “This is the best tattoo I’ve ever seen.”
I smiled. I was happy he liked it. “It sticks out the top of my jeans, too. So, when I’m wearing pants, it looks like I have a gun in the waistband. At eighteen, it was the best “fuck you” I could give to my parents. Or at least all I could think of at the time.”
His other hand went up the other side of my shirt, and he ran his hands up until he encountered the shelf bra section of the camisole. Stopping for a moment, he closed his eyes, and then lifted the shirt up and over my breasts. They popped free of their enclosure, and then bounced until settling. My nipples beaded at the feeling of cold air hitting them, and then my mouth watered as I watched Max study them with a fierce concentration.
Lowering his head, he gave one nipple a slow light lick, flicking it lightly with the tip of his tongue. Then he switched to the other breast. My nipples were harder than ever, and I moaned, wanting him to suck them into his mouth. Not that I said that though. I arched a tiny bit, and then let my back fall back to the bed.
“More?” Max asked.
“Yes.” I hissed.
He gave a devilish smile, and then lifted the shirt the rest of the way off my body. There I lay, naked except for my angry bird underwear, and he was still mostly clothed. His pants, belt, socks, and shoes were still covering the lower half of his body. I eyed them, wishing he would take them off so I could see his body.
“You want me naked?” He asked aware of my silent need.
I nodded my head, and he his hands went behind his back. When his hand emerged again, he placed a big black behemoth of a pistol on the nightstand beside the bed, and then went to work on his belt and buttons. He leaned down once they were loosened, and unlaced his big black boots; toeing them off one by one once he’d unlaced them.