Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105306 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Mine too.
I didn’t bother with clothes.
Boxers included.
Not because I thought we’d have sex again but because I was too lazy and couldn’t care less about what I wore to bed.
Ryann moans, wiggling again in a way that makes me think she may not be completely unawake. Her hand reaching back to grip my backside leaves me no doubt—she is definitely waking up.
I let my hand creep to cup her breast, toying with her nipple until it hardens, running my palm slowly over it again and again.
Kiss her neck while I caress her, listening for her to moan again.
“Mmm.”
And there it is…
My hand runs from her tits to her stomach, splaying over her lower belly, fingers dipping into the low band of her panties.
“Are you awake?” I whisper, nibbling on her ear.
“Mmhmm.” She spreads her legs when my middle finger pushes slowly inside her while my dick presses against her backside. “Yes.”
“Do you like that?”
“Yes.”
Ryann hikes her leg over my calf so her thighs are spread, giving me more access to the heat between her legs. She’s wet—so wet I want to bury myself inside her and live there.
She nudges my hand away, and I remove it, giving her space so she can roll to her back. Her hands go down to grab the hem of her tank top and she tugs, removing it and letting it drop to wherever it went in the dark.
I lean forward, mouth latching onto her nipple as she tugs off her panties, hands straying south, middle finger resuming its earlier position inside her pussy.
Why does foreplay taste so much better in a sleepy fog? And why does nothing feel better than a good old-fashioned cuddle fuck?
I feel Ryann’s hand inching across the mattress before it grips my cock and starts a slow, tired yank, jerking me off while I suck on her tits and play with her pussy.
“I want to come with your dick inside me,” she whispers, the words breathing new life into my dick as if it weren’t hard enough.
It isn’t far for me to get a condom from her bedside table, the little box she stored away there two condoms poorer.
My teeth rip open the package.
My hands feebly fumble to roll it on while Ryann lies there watching, hand stroking my back.
I shiver when her nails graze my skin.
I hover over her once the condom is on, leaning forward to kiss her, letting my cock hang between her spread legs. She moves, hips gyrating against it, kissing me back at the same time she plays with my shaft.
Moves it up and down over her pussy, lining it up so I can push inside, both of us moaning as I slide in.
My arms are on either side of her head, our mouths still fused when I begin the leisurely task of fucking her good and slow—and somehow the kiss is slow, too. Somehow the kiss feels…
Intimate.
As if we’ve kissed a hundred times.
As if we care about each other the way two people in a relationship do.
My heart constricts.
Tightens.
I pull my mouth away, burying my face in the crook of her neck, one of my hands in her hair. I keep myself from telling her she’s beautiful and one of the best things that’s ever happened to me—that would be a lie because it couldn’t possibly be true.
You’re sleepy, dude. Do not open your mouth and make an ass of yourself.
But God, she feels so fucking good, and it’s not just because she’s so fucking tight and wet and her hair smells like goddamn heaven. Her skin feels like silk and her tits are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt in my palm.
You’re high, man—keep your lips shut.
But…
But…
“You feel so fucking good, babe.” I kiss her on the side of the neck.
Ryann’s hands move from the middle of my back, her palms now caressing the hip dips of my backside.
Sleepily, she leans up, mouth kissing my collarbone as I thrust in and out of her intoxicating, tight pussy.
I wish I could see her face.
I mean, I can, kind of—the moon is giving me enough light to watch her silhouette, but not so much that I can see the expression in her eyes or the way her lips part when I hit a sweet spot.
My face is still in her neck when she comes, her loud moaning putting a lazy smile on my face.
I hope the neighbors hear her.
I hope the neighbors hear when I thrust harder.
Now that she’s had her orgasm, I can focus on mine, headboard smashing into the wall, a rhythmic beating.
Bump…
Bump…
Bump.
I slip my hand under her ass, pulling her into me, sliding in deeper.
Bump.
Bump…
I hope the neighbors hear it.
I hope the neighbors see me walking out her door tomorrow doing the walk of shame.
Mine.
When I come, I come harder than I did the first time we fucked—come harder than when she blew my brains into oblivion by sucking my cock.