Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Claiming me as his own. For keeps.
His taut body flexes as he grips my ass harder, squeezing my cheeks together in time with every quivering pulse of my orgasm.
His massive fingers dig exquisite pressure into my soft and thick body, dragging themselves with just enough of his strength to make an already stellar climax something out of this world.
I wait for the ebb of my climax, feeling like I’m out of my body by the time it occurs to me that I haven’t stopped coming, and Foxx doesn’t skip a beat.
He does what he does best, making me come so hard, and for so long, I’m whimpering his name by the time it finally slows.
My voice, hoarse from calling his name and dry from gasping and moaning, is made wet again with Foxx’s mouth. His tongue.
Letting me taste myself as he tastes me.
Letting me taste what he and I really do taste like, and as strange as it might have sounded a few days ago, I don’t think I’ve tasted anything better in my whole life.
“Hmmm,” he growls, hands still running over my body and his body pressing flat on top of me.
His hot erection pressing into my belly, slick with his own precome as it twitches and pulses, telling me this guy’s about ready to pop himself.
I’m ready for Foxx… I mean, how could I not be?
But he should know something beforehand. I should’ve told him, but it was just never the right time.
So now. Before he skewers you, you’re going to drop the bomb on his chimney stack?
Uh. Yeah. I guess I have to.
Foxx is a big guy. Huge.
And when he’s as worked up as he is now, it’s like going six rounds of twister with a bucking bronco that has a rod the size of my arm.
I’m still horny, still having a series of little mini-orgasms. Aftershocks. My breath is still erratic, and my heart is thumping in my chest like a jackhammer.
But I have to tell him. He needs to know what he’s getting into if we’re gonna be a thing.
“Foxx… Foxx? Wait,” I tell him, my hands flat on his incredible chest, which flexes and makes me claw at him while he moans again.
“What is it? Are you alright? Your ankle!” he says suddenly, and gently moving, he sets my bad leg where it should be, leaving my good leg hanging over the edge of the couch.
My cash and prizes, the Mandy prize box, is wide open for him to see.
But not completely open for business.
Not yet.
“Foxx… I’ve never… I mean…,” I stammer, taking a breath and closing my eyes, ordering myself to focus.
Opening them, I can see he looks concerned, even a little worried.
“Mandy, what is it? Tell me.” His deep voice commands me, and I squeak my answer. Almost whispering it. It’s so lame.
“I’m… a virgin, Foxx. I’ve never even touched myself down there, except to wash.”
There. I finally told him.
Now can the ground just open up and swallow me already?
Foxx has stopped his hot and heavy moves, but I can still feel his manhood.
God, can I feel it…
My legs are quivering, feeling weak, but I only want to wrap them around him all over again.
But he’s silent as a grave.
“Foxx?” I ask after what feels like a year. I twirl some of his hair in my fingers. My other hand rests on his face as he looks down at me.
“You’re…a virgin?” he asks, his mouth wide open as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“I know…I mean, yes. I am,” I correct myself, wondering if it would’ve been better not to mention it, but he’s a doctor, like I said.
Surely they can tell about that sort of thing?
And it’s not as if he was skimping on the oral exam. Plenty of opportunity to see for himself.
He’s silent a while longer, and then he gives a dry chuckle to himself, shaking his head, I feel my chest tighten.
I knew it.
Nobody wants a girl with her training wheels still on. Let alone one who’s never even ridden a bike or a dick.
But sensing where my thoughts are going, Foxx is quick to shift his eyes to mine, and his smile, mixed with his tender touch, tells me everything before he even says anything.
“Mandy,” he croons, moving to hug me in a consoling way.
But not because he thinks I’m his booby prize.
No.
His long breath in and out and his beaming smile of satisfaction as he tells me he’s glad changes my mood in a second.
“I was kinda hoping that was the case,” he confesses, looking down in a rare moment of sheepishness.
Now it’s my turn for my mouth to gape.
“You don’t mind?” I ask.
“Mind? How could I mind?” he exclaims, kissing me deeply and then talking fast while I try to convince myself I’ve been worrying over nothing.