Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“Seriously? Waking up to the smell of bacon and coming out to find you bent over?”
His mouth came down on mine and then we were up against the fridge as he undid his fleece robe that I was in (I was naked underneath). He hiked me up, hauled his beautiful cock out and then I was impaled on it.
I moaned and he carried me, my legs wrapped around his waist, his cock inside me, and we had a spectacular morning quickie where we started out missionary style for a few minutes on his sofa and then flipped me to my hands and knees and finished doggy style on the living room floor while I played with my clit and he held my breasts.
Afterwards, I scrambled some eggs and put a mountain of cheese on them, which he teased me for. I made toast with peanut butter and jam, too, cutting his toast as well as mine into triangles and we ate breakfast together while watching Bugs Bunny.
He made me blush when he said, “So now I rate for triangles?”
“Oh yeah…” I’d said flirtatiously, “You rate.”
Sitting here eating breakfast with her, feeling comfortable, happy, I started getting a nagging feeling, like I was in a dream and was gonna wake up any second alone, sweating, without her. It was almost too perfect. I started to lose my appetite, started to feel sour.
Debbie and I had done a fair bit of role-playing when we were together. Just about the only thing I wasn’t down for was her topping me in the bedroom. I just wasn’t built that way. She tried one night, dressing in this pleather bodysuit and trying to boss me around, and I’d pissed her off because I wound up hog tying her and then tickling her until she begged for mercy. Then I left her bound and fucked her while she was bent over an ottoman in her parents’ basement. She’d been pissed at me for refusing to play along. But I did not play submissive. No way, no how.
But she knew how to play me and get me extra sweet because she’d figured out early on that her roleplaying as a submissive sex kitten was my favorite way to fuck. I liked it. No, I loved it. A lot. And it got her gifts, too. She wasn’t submissive all the time, but she tried that role on once in a while, particularly when she was in the doghouse with me, when she wanted something that sparkled, or to make me do something I didn’t really wanna do. Examples were when I had to take her to some chick flick movie or that time she dragged me to a boy band concert. And she tried the submissive role on hard when we split up, trying to get me back.
Angel didn’t seem like she was trying to lead me around by my dick. She was letting me lead.
My Angel was that way from the start and there was no way she could know that this is what I liked, not unless my Pop asked Debbie and provided that information when he arranged her for me. I couldn’t see it. But suddenly I had to know, had to know if I was being played here. I asked her what coaching she’d had about me.
“What did they tell you I wanted before we met?”
She looked startled, probably because we’d been eating bacon and eggs, watching cartoons, and having a nice morning when suddenly my attitude shifted and I had my arms folded across my chest. “What exactly?”
“They…” She paused, toast in mid-air, swallowed a gulp of coffee, and then continued. “They didn’t. I waited for instructions. I was waiting for instructions that never came. They talked in front of me saying we had very little information, so they were sure I’d definitely be staying an extra month or two once you’d done an interview to list my deficiencies. All I was told was that you wanted a redhead with a big appetite for sex.”
“How many redheads there?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a dozen or so.”
“Why’d they pick you?”
“There were only three shortlisted redheads. I don’t know why they picked me.”
“What does short-listed mean?”
“Shortlisted means I was an option on a small list of possible assets for sale. There’s a short list of women who could be sold. Only women the leadership team felt could be trusted outside the resort were on that list. I had enough positive feedback and hadn’t had any infractions for behavior in long enough that I was on that list. I don’t know all the criteria. I guess essentially they thought I was broken enough.”
She was looking at me a little confused, looking more than a little hurt. Her last sentence hit me in the gut, but I forged ahead anyway. “Why’d you have a big sexual appetite in a place like that?”