Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 94716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
By the time we pulled into Free, I was worried that Winter might pass out. Half the ride home I had my arm around her to make sure she didn’t fall asleep. The other half I kept pinching her thigh to make sure she stayed awake.
Note to self: Letting your wife ride home on a motorcycle after drinking the night away was not a good idea.
***
Winter
Moaning woke me from my sleep. Small groans and sounds of pleasure filled the room as I opened my eyes to the bright sun spilling in through the windows.
Coming up on an elbow, I looked over at Jack.
Both of his arms were thrown up over his head. His hair was a scattered mess, and not a single piece was angled in the same direction. His leg was cocked to the side, consequently pulling the sheet covering him down. He had only a small corner of the sheet covering his thighs, and nothing else.
Which gave me a perfect view of his straining erection pointing at the ceiling. His cock pulsed with each beat of his heart, bouncing ever so softly with each pump. The fuzzy globes of his balls hung low between his splayed thighs, and I itched to suck them into my mouth.
Heat pooled in my lower body and I wondered what he’d do if he woke up to me sucking him.
Deciding that I wouldn’t know until I found out, I threw the comforter off the side of the bed and carefully crawled over to him; trying my hardest not to wake him yet.
Once I was in arms reach of his straining length, I bent down and ran my tongue up the length of his rigid length. His moan was the only encouragement I needed.
Crawling over his body so my body was over his in the classic 69 position, I bent my mouth down to his cock and took him into my mouth. Swallowing him down until I nearly gagged.
I worked my throat muscles in tandem with each plunge, and it wasn’t long before he started thrusting up, meeting me half way.
A growl sounded from behind me and strong hands ran up my thighs, from knee to crotch. “Greatest view a man could ever wake up to,” Jack avowed in his sleep-roughened voice, right before he latched on to my clit.
Two large fingers buried themselves deeply into my drenched channel, and I screamed around his cock.
With renewed vigor, I sucked his length hard, plunging my mouth up and down his length in tandem with each thrust of his fingers. My hand that wasn’t wrapped around his dick, cupped his balls gently, squeezing them just hard enough to feel the vibration of his moan against my core.
My tongue lathed and swirled the head of his cock like a lollipop, poking my tongue into the weeping hole with every rotation.
The closer and closer I got to my orgasm, the harder I worked him. Jack wasn’t a slouch either. His two fingers turned to three, and his tongue flicked feverously over my clit.
My eyes roamed from the angry flushed cock, to the balls that were in my hand, and then further down to his perineum. I’d never stimulated his prostate, but it didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about it.
Although, he’d probably toss me off the bed if anything came close to his asshole.
Jack’s fingers suddenly hooked inside of me and rubbed over a tremendously sensitive spot inside of me, and I came.
Hard.
“Fuck,” I garbled around Jack’s dick.
The added vibrations of my voice set him off, and spurt after spurt of hot, ropey come shot into my mouth.
I swallowed furiously, trying to keep up with him, but some spilled out onto his balls.
Not wanting to waste any, after the last spurt of his saltiness left him, I let his cock fall from my mouth. It landed with a wet, meaty splat against his strong thigh, and I wasted no time in licking the remnants of his release off his twin globes.
“Fuck,” Jack panted once I finished.
I crawled off his lap and snuggled in close to his side.
His arm wrapped around me and pulled me into his body.
“You can wake me up like that anytime.” He stated to the ceiling.
I laughed quietly and buried my cold toes between his calves. “It was all you, big boy. If your cock hadn’t been straining towards the ceiling, I would’ve never done it.”
He laughed and wrapped his fingers around my wrist as I tried to shove my cold hand between his thighs, too.
His laughter died as his hands came in contact with the scar, and I sighed. Scrounging up the courage, I decided to tell him what happened. “I was so fucking lost. I didn’t know what to do. They released me from the hospital and I had nowhere to go. I walked for a few hours and I just didn’t know what the hell to do. No one knew who I was, I didn’t know who I was, and then I started thinking, ‘What the hell am I even bothering for?’ So, I used the twenty that the nurse taking care of me sent me home with and bought a motel room for the night.”
My throat clogged at the memory, but I pushed it away, hard, with everything I had and continued. “I cut myself with a razor blade I borrowed from the front desk. Both wrists. A vertical line that ran horizontal with the artery in each wrist. Only, I didn’t go deep enough. I thought to only get it started with a light cut, and then once I had them both done, I would go deeper. Once they were both cut, a feeling of utter wrongness and despair hit me. I knew that if I died at that moment, I was going to be doing something that was so beyond wrong that I would never atone. Only, I wasn’t thinking about God. I was thinking about someone that I loved with my whole being, someone that would be devastated if I left. So, I stopped the bleeding with the hotel sheet and some masking tape, and I set out to get some help.”