Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
The brunette shifts slightly to shoot me a sultry glance over her shoulder.
“Is that right?” she murmurs. “And what is this ‘reward,’ Mr. Phillips?”
I just growl and slowly pull out my finger. Fuck, it smells so good and tastes so good. I lick and suck the digit, Evie’s eyes going wide as watches me.
“Fuck yeah,” I moan. “Baby girl, every part of you tastes good. But I’m going to serve up a side helping of carrots right now.” And with that, I take the raw vegetable in hand. I’d scrubbed this one especially well, practically scouring the skin off so that it’s bright orange, fresh, and stiff. And slowly, oh so slowly, I begin pushing the carrot into her anus.
“Ohhhh!” the brunette squeals, reflexively pulling away at first, her pucker clenching in protest.
But I hold her down firmly, refusing to let her budge.
“It’s cold. I know, baby. I had it in the fridge before you came over. Consider it part of the experience,” I whisper, eyes blazing, watching as I work the carrot in. The orange disappears slowly between her ass cheeks. “Think of what’s going on. Your anal hole is getting fucked … by a vegetable.”
And the brunette moans again, her eyes closed, her lashes half-moons on her cheeks as her face scrunches in concentration, every iota of her being focused on her sweet pucker.
“Ohhhhh fuck,” she moans gutturally. “Oh god, I’m so fucked.”
And I chuckle then. I’m not up for Cook of the Year … but maybe I can win for Most Inventive in the Kitchen.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Evie
I dial Mindy on my phone as I lie on my stomach in bed. The past week has been crazy, and I can hardly believe what’s happened. I’ve been Mr. Phillips’ fuck slut, doing him every which way and letting him do whatever he wants to me. But it’s more than that too. I said “I love you” in a moment of passion, and although my lover didn’t say it back, I could tell he felt it.
Mindy’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “Bitch, is that you?” she chirps on the other end of the line.
I laugh, my line of thought dissipating like mist on a sunny day.
“Yeah, girl, it’s me. So sorry I’ve been out of touch. Things have gotten crazy,” I admit. But while things are crazy and complicated on the outside, I feel totally at peace internally. Things are so good with Mr. Phillips that I feel happy and comfortable. After all, I lost my virginity to the most gorgeous, amazing man I know, and we have a real connection too.
But Mindy doesn’t know any of this yet.
“Where’ve you been?” she chirps again. “Bitch, it’s been three days, and you know we don’t go three hours without texting.”
I sigh. That’s true – Mindy and I are totally addicted to our phones, chattering back and forth all of the time.
“I have so much to tell you …” I begin, but I’m cut off by a yelp on the other side. “Min?” I ask, “are you okay?”
There’s a scuffle and some crackling, and then my friend comes back on the line.
“Yeah, sorry. I had to chase Boomer off. You know, my little brother and all,” she apologizes.
I laugh. I’ve known Boomer since he was a baby, and now that he’s in seventh grade, he’s a bunch of trouble. Cute, but a little rat nonetheless.
“No worries. Is he gone now?”
“Yeah, I locked him out of my room. So tell me, girl – what’s going on with you? Where have you been? I’ve missed you at lunch.”
I launch into a description of the last few days, telling her everything about my time with Mr. Phillips, how we’d been meeting in the classroom and how I’d gone over to his apartment for dinner.
“Are you serious?” breathes my friend incredulously. “He did what with the carrot?”
I giggle then. “Yeah, crazy, right? I washed carrots for our dinner, but I never thought it’d be that kind of a side dish.”
“Holy fuck, girl! You took a carrot up your ass! How’d it feel? Did it hurt? Was it slimy? Oh my god.” Mindy sounds impressed.
“Actually, Stone stretched me out with his fingers first,” I admit. “He put a digit or two up my backside and scissored them, so that helped.”
“Yeah, but how big was the carrot?” she asks, fascinated. “Was it one of the ones you washed before dinner?”
I laugh again. “It was … um … maybe seven inches? And no, I don’t think it was one of the ones I washed before. I think Stone put it in his bedside drawer as a surprise before I got to his apartment.”
Mindy’s the one who giggles then.
“Oh my god, Evie! You’re calling him Stone now! Do you hear yourself? No more ‘Mr. Phillips’ or ‘yes, sir’ – it’s like you’re equals.”