Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I smile as I answer her back.
You want me to serve my favorite dish, damn straight we are still on for tonight.
Perfect, she answers right away.
I should be home in about thirty minutes, so why don’t you come by in an hour? Oh, and come with an appetite.
Oh, I plan on it. I’m famished.
My cock springs up to a semi attention, thinking about her lips on me.
“Here you go, sir,” Tracy says, coming out with a bouquet that is so big I can’t see her face.
“Holy shit,” I say, taking it in. “Did you put all three in one?” I ask, grabbing it from her while she laughs.
“No. The other two are coming right up.” She turns to go into the back. “Would you like to come back in and get the other two?” She points to the door.
I walk out, putting the basket in the back of the car, but it doesn’t fit on the floor.
“No wonder it cost the price of a small island. I took all their fruit,” I say as I set it on the backseat, placing the seat belt around it. The thought of me having to brake suddenly and then the fruit flying everywhere is much more than I care to clean up. By the time I pull out of the parking lot, I have three baskets all buckled up in the back. “Thank fuck I didn’t buy a two-seater,” I say to myself while I make my way home. It takes four trips to get everything into the house. “Fuck, the bag.” I smack my head, thinking about the bag of chocolate sauce and whipped cream I picked up on the way home.
I walk into the living room. It’s a total bachelor pad. The walls are painted white, with the big brown leather couches dressing up the room. A huge screen television is hanging on the wall right above the fireplace that I had installed after I bought the place. I place it on the table in the living room. “This looks like a place to serve dick, right?” I talk to the walls. I move the couches away from each other. I slap my hand and run to the closet in my office, grabbing a big black bag. “I knew there was a reason I bought this,” I tell myself. Walking back into the living room, I make space in front of the fireplace where I take out a white fur rug. “Oh, yeah, I’d serve cock on this thing,” I say, walking into the kitchen to the cupboard where I have the sex candles stored.
I’m a guy. I don’t need candles in my house, at any time. So I take them out when I’m having sex. I have no idea why women love this shit, but I’m not one to ask questions.
I place the candles strategically around the room, then close the shades around the house. “No reason to give my neighbors another view of my dick,” I say, checking my watch. Twenty minutes to spare.
I run upstairs, undressing and throwing my shit in the laundry basket in my walk-in closet. I fix my bed in my room, just in case we end up in here. The room is in a light gray, making the dark royal blue covers pop, or at least that is what my decorator said when she handed me the bill. She fucked me that day, figuratively. The dark brown oak bed frame is almost fit for a king. I smile at myself. Fuck that, I am a king.
Walking into my white marble bathroom, I turn the knob on the shower that is always set on the same temperature. The rain shower starts right away. I wash and make sure the cock is well groomed. I run my hand through my hair as soon as I walk out of the shower and towel dry myself off.
I grab my satin purple robe that’s hanging behind the door. “No reason to dress up more than I need to be.”
Making my way downstairs, I see she should be here any minute, so I light all the candles. Now everything fucking glows. I’m about to pick up the remote to put on some music when I hear the doorbell ring. I smile to myself, opening my robe and looking down at my dick. “Show time, buddy.” I cup myself while I tie the sash again.
Opening the door, I take her in. Fuck, she’s beautiful. She has nothing on her face, except lip gloss. No fake eyelashes, no caked on makeup, nothing but her natural glow. Her blue eyes shine bright.
“I didn’t know I was having dinner with Hugh Hefner,” she jokes as she steps in, her blue sundress swaying around her legs. “Had I known, I might have put my bunny outfit on!” She leans in and kisses my cheek. Natural, effortless, perfect. The scent of citrus hits me. I wrap my hand around her waist, bringing her closer to me, chest to chest. “Next time I expect nothing less,” I tell her right before I bend to kiss her lips.