Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
I gasp and call out his name, my palms pressing against the wall securely to keep my balance.
“You okay?”
I breathe in and out for a second. “Yeah. It’s really deep. You’re really deep.” I wiggle my hips. “It’s good.”
He withdraws several inches and I close my eyes. The slide is so good. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the feeling of him inside of me. He’s so thick and long and being this full drives me wild, the slide of his cock splitting me open my personal nirvana. He presses into my lower abdomen with his hands, pulling me onto him as he drives in again, and I almost come right there. Holy shit, the pressure of his hands against my stomach, combined with him inside of me, it’s too much.
I mumble something and he stills, sunk as far as is physically possible inside of me. I feel his stomach against my ass, the fabric of his pants against the backs of my thighs, and I’m reminded that we’re fucking in a closet during a party.
“Still okay?” he asks.
“Yes.” I sigh. “The thing with your hands, it’s good.”
He presses firmly against my stomach, the heel of one hand dragging across my skin, and thrusts again.
“That. Oh, my God, Sawyer.” I shove on the wall, pushing back on him with the only leverage I have, and he starts to fuck me in earnest. The sound of the party is a backdrop to the slaps of skin against skin and the rustling of clothing inside the closet.
My head drops forward, my hair a curtain around my face. I can make out our feet from the fragment of light coming under the door. Polished black shoes planted on the floor outside of the tips of my heel-clad ones, barely touching the ground. I watch my toes rock back and forth as he slams into me from behind and it’s so deliciously dirty.
“I’m close, Sawyer,” I tell him, clenching tightly around him, increasing the drag of his cock as he slides backward. “Fuck me as long as you want. I have to come,” I warn him, trying to keep my arms firm on the wall as I climax.
“That’s quite the offer, Boots,” he responds as he slows, but does not stop. He thrusts slowly through my orgasm, my body pulsing around him, the friction increased from my muscles contracting around him. I feel every bit of it with his deliberate slide.
“Sorry,” I pant. “Sorry I came so fast. Holy fuck, Sawyer.” My chest is heaving with exertion, even though I’m doing almost nothing but holding my upper body off a wall. Sawyer’s doing all the work on this one. “Do you want a blowjob or do you want to keep going?”
He pounds into me from behind, the smack of his skin against mine renewing my desire like a whip.
“No, I don’t want you on your knees on the tile floor in a hotel closet, Everly.”
Shit. He’s so sweet.
Then he fucks me so hard I worry about the safety of my wrists and I end up with both forearms pressed against the wall to keep my head from cracking into it.
He comes with a husky grunt, stilling as he presses me into the wall, his body pressed along my back for a long moment, before setting me down on my feet and withdrawing.
“I’m turning on the light.”
There’s a light?
I squint, the warning doing nothing to help my eyes adjust to the sudden invasion of light. I grumble, leaning against the wall, annoyed I have to stand right now. I want to lie down on something soft while Sawyer runs his fingers over my naked back and I fall asleep with my head on his shoulder. Instead I have to pull myself together and slip back into this party.
Sawyer wraps his fingers around the base of the condom and slides it off his cock, then ties it off into a knot. He’s still partially erect. I love watching his dick, seeing it in all its various states. It fascinates me. I love that he doesn’t care—he’s not shy about my curiosity in the slightest. I asked him to come on my tits last week just so I could watch. Not shockingly, he was happy to oblige that request.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him, watching him masturbate, knees on either side of my hips. His arms—fuck, those arms. His biceps flexing as he held himself over me, jerking himself with one hand, rougher with himself than I ever am with him. Then he came, erupting onto my chest, and I didn’t know where to focus. On his face, watching me while he did it, or the actual release onto my skin. I mean, I don’t ever get to see that.
The look on his face when I ran my hand through it, spreading it over my tits, well, that was a look that will be embedded into my memory forever. And a moment later when he tossed my legs over his shoulders and stuck his face between my thighs… well, I think he enjoyed it too.