I could hear Dahlia’s groans and cries over the pounding in my ears and decided that what I needed to push me over the edge was to change those noises to the ones she made when she came. I’d only heard them once, but I wanted to hear them again.
Moving so that her weight was now resting in my left hand, I lowered my right one down and in around her body, and then skimmed the tips of my fingers down her stomach. Turning my hand around so that my palm was facing inward and my fingers were pointing downwards, I split my index and middle fingers and lowered them either side of her clit. As I started to rub, I bent so that my head was resting on her shoulder and watched as her hips moved with my hand. It only took a couple of seconds before she made the noises I remembered and when she did, I leaned up to kiss her, absorbing them into my mouth.
Just as she started to clench and climax around my shuttling cock, I knew that I needed to do this with her again, repeatedly. Giving her my own groans as I came, I lamented over the fact that if men didn’t need time to recover, I wouldn’t have left her depths even with a gun to my head. Sadly, we did so I would, but not until I absolutely had to.
What I hadn’t known was that, although I got to experience what her tongue stud felt like as it rubbed my cock, I wouldn’t get to feel it like this again that night, or for a while after that. If I did, I would have looked into Viagra, or running over a certain psychotic little bastard with my car.ElevenDahliaM ornings weren’t my favorite time of the day, and anyone who said they loved them was an asshole who needed therapy. Or a mutant. And this morning wasn’t any different.
Rolling over, I groaned as every muscle in my body screamed out like all the souls that Satan enjoyed torturing in his evil lair. I should also mention I had a flair for the dramatic in the morning. It wasn’t unusual for me to yell abuse at or give long pleading speeches to the coffeemaker as it slowly percolated. Drip. Five hours later – drip. Five hours later – drip. It also wasn’t unusual for me to crawl to machine to get the coffee and then crawl to the nearest comfortable place to enjoy it. Thank the lords of Yeti for their cups, that’s all I had to say. I didn’t even care what color it was or if it had a custom design on it. After one too many crawling spills followed by me face planting on the floor – albeit from only roughly one-and-a-half feet away from it – I’d bought my first Yeti cup after it had boasted a non-spill accuracy that was music to my bruises. When they’d proven not to be big fat liar Yeti pants, I’d started my collection, and that was it. That didn’t make my coffee appear quick enough though, not even my Keurig machine could do that. It also didn’t make my shower heat up quick enough, my hair dry perfectly straight, my makeup do itself, my clothes miraculously appear on my body and, if the hammering on my front door was proof enough, it didn’t stop assholes appearing at dead-bitch-o’clock in the morning.
It had been that hammering at oh-go-fuck-yourself-hundred-hours that was responsible for me stumbling down the hallway, bouncing off every wall as I pulled a t-shirt over my head, using curse words that would make my dad beat my ass even at my age.
As I turned the corner, I knocked my thigh on the corner of an end table, sending my phone flying across the floor and making me scream. Jesus, it felt like I had a flaming blade reaching into my thigh bone which travelled up into my intestine.
Limping onwards, not stopping to pick my phone off the ground because the impatient soon-to-be-dead shithead stop hammering on my door, I got there and flung it open. On the other side was none other than my best friend in the entire world – Bonnie Blue Butler. I shit you not. She had the same color as Madix in her name, and she was also named after Scarlett and Rhett’s daughter in Gone With The Wind. She’d been teased mercilessly in elementary school when the teacher had pointed it out, but I thought it was kind of badass. And having a color in your name like Blue… maybe that was why me and Madix fit so perfectly?
Before I could hug her, she rushed me with a scream, and almost sent me flying as she threw her arms around my neck. Then, she did what we’d both done to each other countless times through the years – nothing kinky, well unless choking was your thing – the best friend headlock. Just as I was about to punch her in the boob or gut to get her to let go, she dropped her hold on me and stared at an area behind me in shock.