I feel his cock pulsing harshly inside of me, all of his body tensing up, and I make one last effort to not slow down. He’s gritting his teeth, and in an instant, his muscles become even more taut as his cock starts spasming violently inside of me, shooting his cum against my insides. My skin prickles as his warm cum fills me up and starts dripping down to my thighs and then falling in thick droplets on the sheets, but I don’t stop. I keep on going up and down on him until I can’t take it anymore, my whole body as tense as a nocked arrow.
I erupt in pleasure, ripples of it washing over me with such intensity that I simply collapse on top of Derek, my legs flailing as if they’re not mine to control. I bury my fingers on his chest as I endure the destroying force of my orgasm, surrendering to the perfection of it.
He holds me tight in his arms, and my body still reeling from all of it, I feel him kissing my forehead gently.
“That’s what I wanted to do to you the first time I saw you on the 6 train,” he whis
pers at me.
Oh, God. I can’t help but see myself in his words. I’ll confess; I would do anything for this man.
Derek
I'm trying not to laugh, but I think this is the third egg Alicia's ruined and the kitchen is so filled with smoke that I worry the fire alarm is going to go off and send panic through the entire building. She's trying to impress me with a nice, Saturday morning breakfast, and while I appreciate the effort, I think we should just go out to eat. Why not let someone else cook for us?
She walks back over to a bowl of heavy cream sitting on the counter and she places the hand mixer into the liquid and turns it on high speed. Specks of the cream fly onto her face and she winces.
"I never thought cooking could be so hard!" she says. "But I think if I keep this on high speed, I'll have made homemade whipped cream, and when I do, I just may want to paint your body with it."
I raise one eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Her playful tone dies down, and a frown forms across her face. "But it's not thickening up."
"I think your bowl needed to be chilled."
"Since when did you become an expert in the art of making whipped cream?" she laughs.
"I'm definitely not an expert," I say laughing. "You know where I stand on all of this … I prefer to let someone else do the cooking."
Cooking is just too much of a hassle … and too time consuming. Time is money, and I certainly wouldn't spend it cooking for myself.
"Oh no, not again!" she says, her attention diverted. She rushes over to the stove and grabs the frying pan by the handle and walks it to the sink. Something is burning. I watch as she scrapes burnt pieces of our breakfast into the kitchen sink. She isn't listening to me, and the frying pan looks like its seen better days.
I look over and see bits of broken egg on her spatula, and black specks of burnt bread. I walk over to her and wrap one arm around her waist. I kiss her neck gently, and reassure her that everything's going to be okay.
"When was the last time that you cooked? Let's just go to Balthzar," I suggest. I can tell she's flustered, and disappointed, but I'm trying to make light of it all.
"But I've been working so hard on this," she pouts. "I can't believe it's not working out this morning!"
"Warm croissants, champagne, fresh berries, an omelet—let's have someone else make our breakfast today. Doesn't that sound nice?" I say, pleading my case.
"I like Balthazar, but we're always eating out," she says. "I just wanted to cook for us for a change, Derek."
"And your effort speaks volumes, babe," I say, kissing her again, but this time on the corner of her mouth. "But get dressed. I'm treating you, and that's final."
It takes her a moment, but she finally agrees to go out for breakfast.
"You win," she says. "But next time, I'm cooking."
I don't understand why she's so adamant about cooking for us, but that's fine.
"Deal," I say.
"Speaking of deals," she says, growing serious all of a sudden. "Have you made any new business deals lately?"
"What do you mean?" I ask. "That's a strange questions to ask. My business is always evolving. I'm sure I've brokered something new."
"Well, I was just curious. I realized that I still don't know a whole lot about what exactly you do."