But one thing led to another, and as I scrubbed, my finger began playing with my sore bottom on its own, rubbing and trying to duplicate the feeling of dick inside. Pretty soon, I had a small digit playing in my asshole while simultaneously stroking my clit under the steamy water.
Fuck!
Oh god, yeah!
In my ass, big guy! There, there!
Holy shit. Exploding, I screamed in the shower, letting out a cry that practically shook down the walls of the small stall. Oh shit, oh shit, pussy juices flooded everywhere, and desperately, I pushed them into my back hole, pretending it was the man’s cum. Oh fuck yeah!
But all good things have to end, and after the tremors subsided, I jerked the tap shut with a trembling hand. Oh my god, did that just happen? Clearly, yes. It was too good to be true, my private parts so sensitive.
Slapping on some make-up, I hauled on an outfit, and smoothing my curls into a wet ponytail, hopped into a cab.
Because despite my self-play, miraculously, I wasn’t late to the lunch. The taxi dropped me off outside the fancy hotel and I gaped upwards at its towering spires. Really? For marriage number four? This seemed expensive and all too unnecessary.
But at least it wasn’t on my dime. Climbing out, I rearranged my skirt and took another deep breath. Oh shit, my body ached everywhere, asshole still pulsing. When would the feelings stop? When would I get back to normal?
At that second, my phone rang. It was my favorite aunt, Jillian.
“Hey, Lace. Where are you?”
My aunt’s voice sounded bored, almost laid-back, but I knew she was as frustrated with mom’s bullshit as much as I was.
Was I late? I looked at my watch and frowned.
“I’m outside. The cab just dropped me off. Why?”
“You know she wanted you to come early so you could meet the latest husband-to-be. His name is Jake.”
I don’t give a shit what she wants.
I just had the best night of my life.
But I’d never say something like that aloud, especially not to Aunt Jillian.
“I’m on the way,” I chirped and got a move. I may not have been happy to be part of this foolishness my mother called a fourth marriage, but there was no sense in putting it on Auntie Jillie. For her, I would try to be at least somewhat gracious about the situation. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
After she hung up, I stuck the phone in the pocket of my dress, glad that the pockets were at least deep enough. Mom bought me the dress a few days ago and insisted I wear it. Of course I hated it, it was so not me.
Purple and short, it was more suited for a fourteen-year-old fifteen pounds lighter than me. The bust was obscenely tight across my big Double Ds, the skirt hugging my ass like a second skin.
Plus, the fabric itched, and annoyed, I scratched at my thigh, hiking the material up even higher. But it wasn’t worth fighting over. I’d just burn this damn thing after the lunch was over.
Sighing, my feet trudged towards through the marble and glass lobby of the hotel toward the elevators.
Although it was a much nicer one than for the previous wedding, this hotel reminded me of the luncheon for marriage number three. Pretentious and unnecessary. As usual.
And honestly, we’d probably be going through this same bullshit again in another two years. My mom’s turnover rate was so high that marrying her was like doing time at a retail store. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am.
I didn’t understand why she didn’t just take time off between husbands to figure herself out. But last time I even suggested that, Amanda bit off my head, saying that “I’d never get it.”
Plus, this latest guy was supposedly some billionaire tycoon, which would completely change our lives. Or so she claimed.
More like he was an internet marketer, someone who bragged about being worth ten figures on paper. Real cash in the bank? Naw, there was none.
Besides, our lives didn’t need the kind of change money could bring. Instead, Amanda needed to change the way she hung on to these losers, thinking they’d bring her happiness. She was definitely not a good example for an impressionable young girl, aka me, to follow.
Sighing again, I shook my head. But there was nothing to be done. The deal was sealed already, the dude’s ring on her finger. And taking a deep breath, I stepped into the hotel’s rooftop restaurant. Yep, fancy. Although they weren’t married yet, mom was already spending a ton of this alleged billionaire’s money. Might as well spend it while you have it. They’d be divorced soon.
A voice greeted me on entrance.
“There you are!” came a friendly call.
Dressed to nines like a glamourous movie star, Aunt Jillian greeted me with a smile and quick hug as soon as the elevator doors opened. “Amanda is ready to take center stage and she doesn’t want you to miss it.”