Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Far be it for me to deny him. I grip my dick and offer it up. “Take it,” I tell him.
He hauls my dick back into his mouth and sucks.
Soon, my thighs are shaking, my spine is tingling. A jolt of pleasure slams into me.
“Coming,” I grunt, the ecstasy taking over as my mind goes blissfully blank.
Seconds later, he lets my dick fall from his mouth then flicks his tongue along his bottom lip, licking me off fully. “You taste really fucking good,” he says in a voice full of dirty wonder.
Who is this sexy young Brit that fate dropped into my lap?
I don’t know, but I plan to enjoy him.
I offer a hand, tug him up, then cup his cheeks. “Thank you,” I say, then I laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t know if it’s customary to thank someone after a blow job.”
Hunter laughs too. “Well, let me just say this. You’re welcome.”
Maybe orgasms are a kind of truth serum because I dust a kiss over his lips and say, “It’s been a while for me. A long time. I got out of a bad relationship earlier this year.” No point in being secretive. My ex talks about our marriage online all the time. His path to self-awareness goes straight through social media overshare. So, that’s fun.
It’s also the past, and I want to be in the moment. With Hunter. “And this was just…” Words fail me, so I simply smile and add, “Thank you. Again.”
His grin is eager. He has such great, up-for-anything energy. “Honestly, thank you.”
Enough talking. I tug at his pants. “Come with me.”
I take him to the nearby couch, and soon we’re tangled up in each other, making out like crazy.
Only, I’m naked and he’s dressed, and that’s not fair.
I undo his shirt, push it open, then run my hands over his chest. He groans, stretching and moving languidly with my every touch. As I slide my hands down his abs, he shudders.
Dear god, he’s a dream.
No one has responded to me like this in a long time. My pride swells, right along with my dick.
But it’s time for me to take care of his dick. “Let me undo these,” I say, making quick work of the button and zipper of his trousers. Then my hand is inside his boxer briefs.
“Oh, fuck me,” he mutters when I wrap my fingers around his cock.
His thighs shake as I stroke.
“Wow,” he mutters.
My confidence grows. “You like?” I ask. He seems to be a talker.
“I really do,” he says as I stroke and play.
I lean in to nuzzle his neck as I fondle him. “Your cock is really fucking nice,” I say. “How do you want to finish?”
Some guys like hand jobs, some like blow jobs, some like to rub against you.
It’s only polite to ask a man what he wants.
6
SAME TIME NEXT YEAR
Hunter
How do I want to finish?
I’ve given that question endless thought, devoted detailed fantasies to every scenario.
And I want it all. Right now. All at once.
But that’s impossible because physics and stuff.
“Just. Don’t. Stop,” I groan.
Nate reaches for the coffee table and grabs some lotion. With a few pumps, he returns to me then wraps his slick hand around my aching dick again.
I shudder.
Then I tremble when he comes in for a kiss. I let out a ridiculously loud moan. I’ve picked an incredible lover for a first time.
He kisses deeply as he strokes, his fingers twisting torturously around the head of my cock. He slides his fist back down to the base, then coasts his palm between my thighs, grabbing my balls, giving them a good tug.
“Yes,” I say, urging him on.
He takes a long tour of my shaft, gripping me nice and tight, then loose and teasing.
And soon, I’m panting harder, my thighs quaking.
This is a fantasy come true.
As his hand flies along, he comes back in for another hard kiss.
Then he kisses and jerks.
It’s hot and wild. Electricity crackles in my veins. I pump into his hand.
Nate urges me on, whispering, “Give it to me.”
My whole body lights up as he takes me over the edge. I come hard in his palm, and it’s the best orgasm of my life.
I’m buzzed—lit up from head to toe.
When he lets go of my dick, he kisses me more, gentle and slow this time. It’s a dizzying kiss since I’m still floating on an orgasm high, my veins humming with bliss.
Then he maneuvers off me, heads to the kitchen sink, and washes his hands.
I should move.
I should go.
I have a plane to catch.
But holy hell.
I got everything I wanted in this afternoon delight.
And yet I want so much more.
This encounter hasn’t quenched my thirst.
After I clean up, while he heads to his second-floor bedroom to get dressed, I check out his place.
I’d have expected a rich athlete-style pad with monochromatic black and white furniture, steel tables, and hard edges.