Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I closed my eyes and pictured what it must look like and moaned at the image my mind created. He reached around and put his hand under my thong and started massaging my clit again to the rhythm of his thrusts, one hand still on my hip. He had never made any sounds during any of the other times we had had sex, but this time he let out little grunts with each thrust. Something about those little sounds and the idea that it was another sign that he’d lost a bit of control, sent me over the edge and I screamed his name as I came, hard and fast, intense ecstasy tightening my body.
“Oh fuck,” Carson grunted behind me slamming into me one final time and then groaning in release.
My whole body was vibrating with the receding waves of pleasure, my legs shaking from the effort to support the rest of my body.
Carson pulled out of me and I turned around and fell onto the bed. I looked up at him and his expression made my breath halt. He looked awestruck… I blinked, right before he came over top of me and took my mouth, kissing me slowly and deeply, then leaning up and looking into my eyes. “Damn,” he murmured.
I smiled lazily. “Yeah,” I said, smiling bigger. “Damn.”
He disposed of the condom and then we climbed into bed together, me snuggling into his warm, hard chest.
_________
Carson
I held Grace, stroking lazily up her arm for a few minutes, reflecting on what we had just shared. It was a base position to have sex in, and despite that, I had felt more connected to Grace than I ever had to anyone I had been with. Emotionally connected. I had been about to tell her that I didn’t know it could be this way, but as the words came to my lips, I thought better of it. That felt dangerous. This was about one weekend, nothing more. I was confused, and I didn’t ever remember being confused. It was a new feeling for me. Confusion indicated possibilities, choice, but what were my choices in this situation? There were none.
I was floundering.
I looked down at her and she smiled before she closed her eyes. I kissed both lids and she opened them again to look at me. She leaned up and put her hands flat against my chest, one on top of the other and then rested her chin on them.
“Hi,” she said casually. “How are you?”
I laughed. “My granny used to say ‘fine as frog hair!’ when anyone asked her that. I never knew what the fuck it meant. That just popped into my mind.” I loved that my granny’s phrases were coming back to me. Just mentioning her a few times to Grace had brought her back to life in some sense.
Grace moved her hand slightly and kissed my chest. “Tell me about your granny.”
“She was a sweet lady. I went to stay with her most summers and then, like I said, when my mom went to rehab. She taught me things.” I was silent for a minute, picturing her, hearing her voice in my head.
“What kinds of things?” Grace asked gently.
“How to mow the lawn, how to sneak up on a grasshopper, how to choose a cantaloupe at the store.” I grinned down at her. “Completely worthless things to a kid from LA. It wasn’t what she taught me so much as that she cared to do it.”
She nodded up at me like she totally understood what I meant. I thought she probably did. “How do you choose a cantaloupe at the store?” she asked.
“You smell it, right at the top. If it smells cantaloupe-y, it’s ripe.”
“Cantaloupe-y.” She repeated with a smile. “Is that true?”
“Probably. Granny was right about almost everything.” I paused. “She had a sadness about her too though, because of how my mom turned out.” I pictured the way she’d turn her head when she talked about my mom, like she couldn’t bear to look in my eyes. “She never talked much about my mom, but I could tell there was lots of regret there.”
“Where does your mom live now?” she asked.
I paused. I didn’t usually talk much about my mom, even to my closest buddy and roommate, Dylan, but I had already shared things with Grace that I hadn’t shared with anyone else. Any question she asked felt comfortable now, normal. I trusted her.
“My mom still lives in LA,” I answered. “Not too far from me.”
“Do you have a relationship with her?”
“Yes and no. I talk to her every once in a while, but we’re not close. She’s gotten her life together more than she had when I was a kid, but there’s just too much water under the bridge now. We don’t really know each other. Being around her is just awkward.”