Hot Stuff
I want him so bad, I can hardly stand myself. I want his mouth and his cock, and I want them both over and over again until I pass out. I can already tell one time won’t be enough. That the delicious stretch as he pushes inside me will be just the beginning of a long, eventful night.
I want to know his body better than I know my own. I want to worship it. I want to make it my freaking altar.
He will be my Penis god.
In perfect timing with the building climax in my head, Garrett produces a spectacular climax between my legs. It runs through me sharply, closing my eyes so tight, I see stars behind them.
“Oh yes! Oh my God!” I cry.
He hums around the bundle of my clit, never breaking the seal he’s created with his lips.
“Garrett.”
He sinks back onto his heels, his head falling back between his shoulder blades so his face is to the ceiling. I’m struggling to open my eyes, but I force the process to speed up so I can watch him.
He looks satisfied—reverent, even. He licks his lips and then runs his hands through his hair.
I don’t know what’s going on inside his head, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t freak me out at all.
Maybe it’s because he looks like he’s giving thanks at the altar of my vagina, and man, wouldn’t that make us a weirdo match made in heaven.
“Garrett,” I call for his attention, wanting to touch him so bad I’m shaking.
It doesn’t matter that I just came so hard, a star exploded in space. I want to touch and feel and explore and make him throw his head back with a groan of release.
He rocks forward again and then locks eyes with me in a way that makes my exhale shake.
If I think I’m feeling ravenous, I don’t even know the word for the way he looks.
“I hope you’re ready, Lauren,” he says, the softness of his voice pretty much entirely belying his words. “Because I’m like an old engine that’s been left to sit for too long.”
My eyebrows lift in confusion, so he elucidates.
“Now that I’ve been started up, I’m gonna need to run for a good, long while.”
I gulp and nod my agreement. I would like that very, very much.
He grins, the line of his perfectly straight, white teeth sinking into his bottom lip seductively.
I can’t believe anybody like him has been out of commission for longer than a couple of hours. Frankly, it should be an actual crime—punishable with jail time—that this man isn’t undressed from the waist down at all times, sticking it to some lucky woman.
The only good news is, I’m here now and available to volunteer as tribute.
It’s a tough job, but I will be the Katniss Everdeen of his sexual warfare. I will nock his arrow in my bow, and I will shoot down any enemy who tries to defeat us.
Come at me, bro, I say to anyone who dares to interrupt us now, including, but not limited to, any late to the party “feelings” that might want to suggest we slow down or take a step back or think a little harder about what we’re doing.
I’m expecting Garrett to climb to his feet, shuck his pants, and stick it in pretty much immediately. I mean, I’ve come once already, and he’s yet to take off his pants.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward and swirls his tongue around my bare pussy yet again.
Sensitive from my orgasm, I whimper.
His tongue teases the sides of my clit before swirling around the top and flicking. I cry out into the emptiness of my bedroom and thrash against the cool fabric of my normally pressed linens.
The bedclothes are scattered, messy, and the feel of my heart racing in my chest is foreign in the space.
My bedroom is normally a place of tranquility—of silence, of solace.
But right now, it’s the scene of passion and heat and sensuality.
Emotions I didn’t even know were possible to exist, let alone be this potently intoxicating.
Sex, for me, has always just been sex. But right now, in this moment with Garrett, with his head between my legs and his hands groping tenderly at my chest, I feel like it’s a completely otherworldly experience.
And, for the love of kittens, we’re just getting started.
It’s only after my second orgasm that Frank gets released from his baggie. It’s safe to say, the distraction technique worked.
January 18th
Garrett
Sleep-blissed, I roll over and glance at the clock beside Lauren’s bed and sigh. God, last night was—
Oh, holy shit! What the hell time is it?
I jump out of bed as softly as I can manage so as not to wake her and scramble across the floor to my pants. My phone is in the back pocket, and I pull it out. Once I check the time, I dial a number quickly while stepping out of her bedroom and shutting the door behind me.