Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Too curious for my own good, and somewhat a sucker for punishment, I step closer to the bathroom.
Trickling water sounds louder the further I walk, lengthening my strides.
I’ve never been more ashamed of my body’s needs when the quickest glance through a crack in the door has my clit beating out a mariachi tune.
A trillion theories roll through my head, though they seem inconsequential compared to the visual of Andrik in the shower, stroking his cock.
The heavy stream of water pumping onto the glass partition means not a single speckle of the awe-inspiring visual is hidden from my sight. I can see every ridge of his cock. Every throb of the vein feeding his fantastic manhood. I can even see the droplet of pre-cum his precise pumps cause to the end of his cut penis.
I should look away, but no matter how hard my brain screams at me to do precisely that, I can’t. I drink in the way his manly hand doesn’t deter from the size of his cock, and how his lips part more with every strangled pump.
I watch the frustration that crosses his face when he takes his anger out on his cock, and with that, learn that even the most unethical scene can be the most beautiful.
When my eyes lower to the wide girth of his cock pumping in and out of his fist, my thighs press. He must be close to finding release. I’m on the verge of climax, and I am only watching. I can’t feel the way his cock flexes when he balances his free hand on the tiled wall above his head before he flutters his eyes closed, or feel the smoothness of the pre-cum he drags down his shaft with his thumb, but nothing weakens the wave building low in my stomach.
Instinctively, my body seeks a way to lessen the tsunami that’s been brewing in my core for days.
As I pant along with Andrik, I glide my hand beneath my towel before brushing my fingertips over the opening of my pussy.
Electricity blisters through me when my thumb finds my clit.
I roll it at the same frantic pace Andrik uses to stroke his cock. It is a fast, needy speed that doubles the size of the wave about to crest in my womb.
A soft groan seeps through my lips when I slip two fingers between the folds of my pussy. I’m wet. Actually, more like saturated. I am as drenched now as I was when Andrik spanked me over the sofa in his den.
Slickness coats my fingers, and the undeniable aroma of lust fills the air as the movie of his punishment rolls through my head. It goes a little longer than the actual scene and includes both his hands and mouth soothing the rush of euphoria prickling my skin with goose bumps.
When the raunchy exposé ends, I stuff two fingers inside myself, my pussy needing something to cling to when I return my eyes to the crack in the door. The visual of Andrik’s fat cock sliding in and out of his hand increases my recklessness.
After adjusting the span of my thighs, I thrust my fingers inside myself urgently. Desperately. I finger fuck myself like they’ll achieve the same level of euphoria they would if it were Andrik’s hand between my legs.
My muscles pull taut when Andrik’s pace quickens like he knows how scandalous his show has become. He bends his knees and then tilts his hips upward, matching the incline my fingers make as they surge in and out of my pussy.
While biting my lower lip to lessen my moans, I pretend my fingers are his cock and that my palm slamming against my clit is the arrow of his fantastic V muscle.
I grip the door handle with my spare hand, too shuddering in a lust frenzy to trust my legs to keep me upright. Tingles race through my core when Andrik adjusts his position until he is almost facing me front on.
The fatness of his cock and how much pre-cum it leaks makes my pumps even more desperate. I stuff my fingers in and out, in and out until the fire in my belly roars to life.
Its burn is brutal, even more so when white streams of cum shoot from Andrik’s cock and land halfway up the subway tiles.
But before I can fully topple in ecstasy, the rug is cruelly pulled out from beneath me.
“Arabella…”
What?
I yank my hand away from my pussy and take a step back, certain the name I just heard didn’t leave Andrik’s mouth.
He wasn’t thinking about my sister while he was stroking his cock. Surely not.
They have no spark.
No connection.
He turned her down while she was naked and kneeling in front of him.
He also didn’t seem the slightest bit attracted to her. We look the same even though we’re different. Our personalities make us different. Don’t they?