Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I don’t know if it’s the fact that my world is going to come crashing down around me sooner rather than later. Hell, maybe I have some kind of fucking brain tumor that’s making me act completely out of character around this woman.
Another hiss of delight rumbles out of my chest and I have to squeeze the base of my cock to keep from coming so quickly. It could last forever if I had the stamina to stroke my dick for three hours. I would ignore the blisters it would no doubt give me on my palm.
Her eyes dart to my face, and without pulling my gaze from hers, I lean forward and let a little dribble of spit fall onto my cock. I can dry rub with the best of them but it’s getting a little abrasive.
Her eyes follow the spit before locking right back on my hand.
“I could make you do this,” I whisper.
“You could,” she agrees. Was that a hint of desire in her voice or have I fully lost my mind?
I have to accept that it’s the latter. She doesn’t want me doing this to myself much less forcing her to do it.
I made a vow to myself last night when I couldn’t sleep that I wasn’t going to touch her, that I wasn’t going to force her to touch me. But as pleasurable as this is, it also doesn’t feel like enough.
One of the main reasons I’m not making her do this is because I’m afraid that even with her hands on me, it still wouldn’t be enough.
I know myself enough to know that I can take everything from her. I could leave her with nothing and I still wouldn’t have met my expectations. It’s not that I feel that she wouldn’t be good at it. I know I would have come three times already if it were her hand instead of mine.
There’s a desperation inside of me I’ve never felt before and as much as I want to explore that, there’s a part of me that can’t imagine hurting her any more than I’ve already done.
I know she’d never view my restraint as the gift that it is and that makes me want to apologize. I’m not a man who apologizes to anyone. I don’t make excuses.
I stroke up my shaft again, the threat of an orgasm settling deep in my balls and drawing them closer to my body. I spread my legs a little but it provides no relief. I can’t imagine slowing my hand, despite not being even close to this ending.
A wave of goosebumps washes over her skin, her nipples pebbling right before my eyes. If I hadn’t climbed underneath the covers because I felt the chill in the air, I could possibly convince myself that it’s arousal. I could let myself believe that it’s desire that’s making her body react that way, but I know better.
She moves her body, shifting just the slightest amount, the muscles in her thighs clenching.
There’s no way she could deny how she feels as the top of her breasts turn pink.
She is aroused and I moan at the idea of knowing that she has to be glistening between her legs.
That desperate need to taste her consumes me. If I were the monster I imagine she truly believes that I am, I would pounce on her. I would spread those slender thighs of hers and bury my face in the apex of them.
If she thought the orgasm she gave herself in the shower earlier was incredible, the woman has no idea how good I could make her feel.
I bite my lip, because if I open my mouth, I’m going to insist on seeing it. Instead, I let my eyes flutter closed. I let my imagination take over, and that version of Raya, the version I’ll never see in real life, leans back and does it without being prompted.
She spreads her thighs and uses the index fingers on both hands to open herself up for me. That’s when I nearly lose control. “Jesus, what a pretty pussy,” I whisper, my thoughts turning into real words. But I can’t stop now. I can’t pump the brakes. This train is close to derailing, and the crash is going to be epic.
She whimpers in my mind as the images unfold. I’m desperate for the taste of her on my lips, aching to know what her flesh against mine feels like. I’m driven insane by thoughts of sliding my cock inside of her.
The fantasy of her begging for more in my mind is what sets me off. My legs tense exactly the way hers did in the shower, and I don’t open my eyes until the very last rope of cum hits my chest.
When I manage to open them again, she’s staring down at me, her gaze locked on the cum marking my skin.