Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Don’t move,” I whispered out roughly.
She moved.
Lifting one leg up on the bed, she started to force herself back on me, despite my hand on her hips stilling her movements.
“If you don’t start moving,” she snarled quietly, “I’m going to get myself off.”
Before she could so much as move her hand toward that pretty clit of hers, I had both of them in my grip, holding them high at her back.
“Can’t do that when you can’t move your hands,” I grunted.
Her head fell, and those beautiful blonde curls slipped even further from the band at the nape of her neck.
I couldn’t resist the urge to wrap my fingers around the silky mass.
The moment my fingers entwined with her hair, she stopped trying to writhe on my dick, and became so still that I was worried I had hurt her in some way.
“Naomi,” I whispered.
“Please move,” she whispered, sounding on the verge of crying. “I want you to move.”
I moved.
Slow, at first, to try to control the urge to release into her body within the first half a thrust.
After realizing it was futile, that I was going to go anyway, I let go.
Using my grip on her hands and her hair, I forced her to take me, over and over again. My cock hit so deep inside of her that it bumped into her cervix with each powerful slam home.
The only thing holding her head up was my grip in her hair, but I didn’t worry that I was hurting her. I had no doubt whatsoever that she’d tell me if I was, so I continued with my hold, keeping her head where I wanted it.
The fingers of both hands were clenched on tightly to my fingers and wrist, holding on the best way she could.
The leg she had up on the bed was giving me the backward force that I needed to keep her in place and allowed me to push so deeply inside of her that I wanted to bury myself there and never crawl my way back out again.
Our flesh met, slapping together so hard that we definitely weren’t being as quiet as we should have been.
My balls started to draw up, still slapping against her mound with each plunge forward, and suddenly it all came crashing down.
She came, clenching and unclenching around me like tiny little fists massaging the length of my cock, coaxing it to give it what it wanted.
I lost control, pounding so hard inside of her that it was mediocre at best.
But I couldn’t help it. The way she made me feel, I couldn’t think rationally.
Couldn’t make my brain move as fast as it should be.
And then, with a sudden understanding, I realized why she felt so fucking good. Realized why it was ten times better than I remembered.
I managed to pull out, barely, shooting my seed all over the soft lips of her sex, crack of her ass, and back.
I watched as my come ran down her leg, and released her hand to catch it.
She was faster, catching it with her hand and swiping it up her leg to cup her sex.
“I don’t have anything to clean up with, and I’m worried if I start moving, it’ll all go everywhere. And I really, really don’t want to explain to my mother why I got jizz on her carpet,” she murmured worriedly. “How am I going to clean this up?”
I found myself smiling.
Backing away from her, I looked around the room for something to use.
The glow from the full moon didn’t offer that much light, though, so I walked to the door and flipped on the light switch, wincing when the bright light lit up the room around us.
“You’re standing in front of an open window with a light on, and the street is right there,” Naomi whisper yelled.
I gave her a look that clearly said ‘really?’
She bared her teeth at me.
“You’re in a cul-de-sac. There are two elderly people on either side of you and a fifty something year old man that lives on the corner. He isn’t home, because as I was arriving, he was leaving. He had a travel mug of coffee, which indicates he wasn’t planning on coming back any time soon,” I informed her.
She blinked.
“That was Mr. Monk. He’s a marathon runner, and wakes up at the crack of dawn to get his ten miles in before work at nine,” she uttered.
My mouth twitched.
“So no, I’m not worried about anyone seeing me. Old people can’t see in the first place, and there are no lights on in their houses for me to be worried about them being up at four in the morning.”
She just shook her head and started waddling awkwardly to the bathroom.
I grinned at her retreating back the entire way.
***
The next morning, I rose with the birds, after two hours of sleep, to find the house full of people.