Focusing back on Sadie, I say, “Tron is a movie about computers.”
“Sounds horrible.” I’m about to kick her out of my room when she winks and pats the bed next to her. “Come sit down before your blood pressure skyrockets.”
She’s stroking the bed now with her palm. I can’t deny such “seduction” even if she doesn’t know what Tron is.
Lightening the mood, I flop on the bed next to her, push my body up against the wall, and sip my coffee. God, I love suckling from the coffee bean’s teat. “What did you bring for breakfast?”
With a flick of her finger, she pops open the bakery box and says, “Cinnamon rolls from Manni’s Bakery.”
“Oh, fuck yes.” I’ve never been to Manni’s but I love a good cinnamon roll. I give her a plate and then grab a roll from the box; they are fucking enormous. “Damn, Sadie, you’re sure winning a little spot in my heart with this special treat.”
Giggling, she places a roll on her plate as well. “And here I thought it was my boobs that did that.”
“Nah, if anything it would be your ass, because that’s what caught my attention from afar. Yeah, your ass and your hair.”
“Pig,” she jokes, and takes a bite out of her roll. Joining me, she scoots back on the bed so our arms press together. “When do you go into work today?”
“Three, like always. What about you?”
“Noon. Stuart has been putting me on the lunch shift a lot lately. I’m going to have to talk to him about that especially if you’re taking the later shifts.”
“Yeah?” I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “You want another go around in the stock room?”
“No.” She laughs and shakes her head. “That shall never be repeated. I can’t believe we didn’t get caught.”
“If you would’ve sucked my dick, we would have definitely been caught because I’m pretty sure I would have cried like a little girl while you did it. Those lips on my dick? Tear-worthy.”
“If you cry while we’re having sex, you can count on me never coming around again.” Her voice is playful, and it makes me so fucking happy to hear her joke with ease.
“I didn’t say crying during sex, Sugar Britches. I said crying while getting blown, completely different things.”
“Let me ask you this. When you got your first blow job, did you cry?”
A deep chuckle rips from my chest. “Does one tear count as crying?”
“Yes.” She nods while covering her mouth in humor.
“To be fair,” I hold up my hand in defense, “she wore a strawberry lip gloss, so when she sucked on me, I had the pleasure of smelling strawberry fields. It was an . . . erotic experience. Hard not to cry when your dick mingles with an aggregate accessory fruit.”
“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Whatever.” I grin. “What about you? First time you received a tongue to the taco, did you cry?”
“What?” She shakes her head. “You’re such a good guy and then you go and say things like tongue to the taco.”
“Like I said, every guy has a daily douche quota to fill. I’m just starting early. So, did you cry?”
“No, I didn’t cry. I was more frightened than anything.”
“Frightened, why?” I pause for a second as my mind starts twisting and turning her words into something dark. “Wait, were you fucking forced?”
“No.” She presses her hand against my forearm. “Nothing like that at all.” The racing of my heart starts to slow down. Thank fuck, or else I was going to have to start punching everything in sight. You get a punch and you get a punch, everyone gets a fucking punch! “I was frightened because I wasn’t too sure about the whole mouth to the vagina thing. You know? I was nervous if I didn’t . . . prep the plate well enough.”
“Prep the plate?” I barely get the words out of my mouth before I start howling with laughter. “Oh fuck.” I wipe my eyes. “I’ve never heard anyone say that before. Prep the fucking plate.” Pretending my hand is a notepad, I lick my finger and act like I’m taking a note. “Oh, I need to remember that, prep the plate.”
“Stop.” She playfully shoves my shoulder. “It’s easy for guys, you just have a rod that sticks out like a popsicle. Girls have crevices and valleys. We have to make sure everything is on the up and up.”
“That is true.” I agree with her and finish off my cinnamon roll. “But I will tell you this, you didn’t need to worry. You have the nicest pussy I’ve ever seen.”
Her face lifts quizzically. “You’re saying, out of all the vaginas you’ve come in contact with, mine is the best-prepped plate?”
A smile pushes past my lips. “No doubt in my mind.”
Setting our dishes to the side, she crawls on top of my lap and starts running her fingers along my shoulders. “And how many vaginas are we talking, here? Tens, hundreds, thousands?”
“Thousands is just obnoxious.”
“So hundreds?”
She starts to slowly move on my lap and images of the morning we woke up together start to flash through my mind. This woman wants herself some friction.
“Hundreds seems more accurate,” I joke.
“Ew, really?” She starts to pull away, but I lock her down in place with my hands to her hips.
“No, not really. Honestly, I haven’t been with a lot of women. No more than five.”
Surprised, she nods her head as if happily satisfied with my answer. “Five is a respectable number for a guy who was called Cannon Cock at his last college.”
“I like to think so.” Swallowing hard, knowing I really shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help it, I ask, “What about you? How many dicks have you seen?”
“Seen? Or been with?”
“It disturbs me that there is a difference, but I’m going to go with how many dicks have you been with?”
“Just two.” She shrugs her shoulder. “You and another guy.”
“Two?” Now it’s my turn to be surprised. One other guy could mean two things: Sadie doesn’t like to hook around and is very picky when it comes to the dong, or she was in a serious and committed relationship. Based on the way she threw herself at me the morning after I danced drunk with her, I’m going to believe the answer is the latter, which in turn makes me sweat. A serious relationship, fuck. How serious are we talking?
“Yeah.” Sadie’s fingers, which had been dancing playfully across my chest, pause. A somber Sadie takes root.
“Tell me, was it serious?” I’m pushing her to open up, something I know she doesn’t want to do, but call me crazy, I’m actually fucking jealous.
Sighing, she nods. “Very.”
Ding, ding, ding.
Did you get that, Andrew? That’s the sound of your chances of being with this girl slowly evaporating.
“Cool. I like serious relationships, you know.” I try to play it off like I’m not bothered at all, not one bit. “There is nothing that tickles my hiney more than watching serious relationships develop. All those emotions, those deep-rooted feelings, the promises of forever. Yes. Love the things. Don’t you wish we could all be in one giant, huge, mega-serious relationship? I do. What a great orgy of commitment that would be.”
Instead of agreeing with me—I mean, orgy of commitment, how can you pass that up—she presses her fingers over my lips to silence me. Looking me square in the eyes, she tamps down the fear bubbling inside me. “It’s over, Andrew. Completely and utterly over. It ended badly, and there is no way to reconcile what we had. There was too much pain, and I want to move on.”
Feeling a little better, I ask, “Do I need to punch him? I have a killer right hook, left hook could use a little help, but the right,” I punch my palm, “I can pop one hell of a wallop.”
“Why can’t I actually see that happening?”
“Hey, I’m tough, baby. Don’t let the glasses fool you.”
“No, the glasses are hot.”
“Oh, hey there, confession. Nice to fucking meet you. I don’t see you around her
e very often,” I tease.
Rolling her eyes again—something I’m becoming accustomed to—she boldly grabs the hem of her tank and lifts it over her head, tossing it to the ground.
Immediately, like the man I am, my eyes go to the gorgeous breasts encased in a teal lace bra. Fuck, that’s hot. She’s hot.
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“Fine by me.” I shift a little on the bed, clearly thrilled about what she wants to do next.
In one swift movement, I remove my glasses and pin Sadie to the mattress. Her giggle shoots straight to my cock, igniting my already awakened arousal. I maneuver my way to the end of the bed where I remove her shorts and let them fall to the ground with her shirt. Lying in front of me like a fucking wet dream, Sadie smiles up at me. Her thong matches her bra; her excitement matches her eyes. This little vixen planned this. Hell, if I’m mad about it.
“You’re fucking hot, you know that?”
She answers me by pulling my arm so I’m forced to fall on top of her. Her legs wrap around my waist while her hands drag my head down to hers. With a quick lick of her lips, she starts kissing me. No, scratch that; she starts tongue fucking my mouth. Talk about things escalating quickly.
Catching up to speed, I open my mouth wider and match her movements. Wet, slippery, sloppy, it’s all there mixed with some light moans. It’s not fucking pretty. I know it’s not but it’s hot, it’s full of need, full of yearning, and that makes it that much sexier.
While she continues attempting to control my mouth, I start stripping her down, because with each touch of her tongue against mine, my dick throbs to an uncomfortable level.
I start to reach behind her back to unclasp her bra when she mutters, “Front clasp.”
God, I love front clasps, not because they’re easy to undo—which shouldn’t matter; everyone should be able to unclasp a bra with one hand and eyes closed—but because I love watching a woman’s breast spring free of their confines, and a front clasp turns that image in my mind to a fucking incredible reality.
I slip my right hand up the front of her and find the clasp. With ease, I flick it open and chance a glance downward to see her perfect breasts spill out of the teal lace. Fucking amazing.
Wanting a taste, I disengage our mouths and nip my way down her chest, making sure to suck and lick the entire time, loving the way her body lifts with each sensual bite. I rest my head in her cleavage just as her hands thread through my hair. Shit, there is something about a woman driving her fingers through my hair that makes me crazy with lust. Or is it just Sadie? Her hands? Her touch?
Loving the way her fingernails dig into my scalp, I turn to her right breast and suck in her nipple . . . hard. I show no mercy. Just like her mouth, I fuck her nipple with my tongue. Flicking it, biting it, sucking so fucking hard she lifts from the bed.
“Oh my God, yes!” she moans in satisfaction.
I release her nipple but then quickly pull on it again, this time with my teeth. Her cry is clogged with pleasure as her fingers really dig into my scalp. Fuck, I won’t be able to do this for very long, so I switch to her other breast and pay it the same respect. Pinching being my favorite maneuver, it results in the sexiest reaction from her.
Lips parted, she pants as her hips really start to grind against mine. My girl is ready; I can feel how ready she is through my thin shorts.
With one last nip, I pop her nipple out of my mouth and sit back so I can shuck my shorts and boxer briefs. From below me, she watches in fascination as I maneuver around her in record speed, quickly sheathing myself with a condom from my nightstand.
I’m not fucking around, I’m getting right to the good stuff. I lift her legs and place her ankles on my shoulders. Her eyes go wide from the position but then glaze over when I move the strip of fabric covering her beautiful pussy to the side and rub the tip of my cock along her warm, wet heat.
Fuck . . . yes. She’s so ready.
One swipe of my cock over her clit. Two, three, and then I thrust inside her. The moan that passes her lips only spurs me on more, the need to pound into her is too strong. I take hold of her hips and start thrusting, hard. Not removing my eyes from hers, I watch as my thrusts rock her entire body, from her heady eyes, to her parted mouth, to her slick skin, to the way her tits bounce with my movements. It’s sexy as fuck, and so is the way she clenches around my cock every time I plunge forward.
I pound hard, wanting to hit that spot, but not quite getting there.
“Oh God, harder, Andrew,” she cries, wanting more.
I remove her legs from my shoulders and hold them out to the side, trying to change up the position. She’s spread wide for me, the sound of our bodies slapping together echoes through the room, but I still can’t fucking get there.
Not wasting any time, frustration forming within me, I pull out, only to be greeted by her protest. She doesn’t get a chance to make anything of it because I flip her on her stomach, stuff my pillow under her stomach, and spread her legs and ass, giving me the perfect view of that beautiful, wet pussy.
Mouth watering with excitement, I plunge forward. And if I didn’t already know Sadie was the perfect partner in bed, I know right now because she raises her back end so fucking high that I have to angle down to fuck her. And that’s all I need. With a rotation of my hip and a thrust, I’m bottoming out, reaching an end to her that brings her moans to an indescribable octave.
Below me she grips the sheets, her head positioned to the side so I can see the way her mouth parts every time I press into her.
“Fuck, touch yourself, baby. Press on that little clit of yours.”
Letting go of the sheets, she moves one hand beneath her and starts rubbing her clit, which sets off an ignition of fire between the both of us. She screams my name, her walls around me clench, and she starts to convulse below me. Fuck if I need anything more than that.
My thighs tighten, my chest swells, and I come so fucking hard I think I might explode from the ecstasy I’m feeling.
Blasts of pleasure shoot through me, from my fucking toes, to the top of my head. My entire body tingles and I keep pounding into her until I can’t feel my legs anymore.
Once my heart rate slows down, and my dick is no longer throbbing, I remove myself from Sadie, take care of my condom quickly, and then snuggle up next to her where I bury my face into her soft hair.
“You make me lose my fucking mind,” I whisper.
Her fingers dance along my back. “You make me forget the world around us.”
I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not, but when she snuggles even closer, I realize, whatever it means, it doesn’t matter. At this moment right here, I’m happy. We’re happy.
Chapter Seventeen
SADIE
“Catch you later, hot pants. Don’t do anything stupid like burn down the place. I don’t have renter’s insurance,” Smilly calls out while grabbing her purse.
“That seems stupid. You should probably get some.”
“Eh.” She shrugs. “Why would I do that when living on the edge is so much more fun? I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, have fun on your date.”
I give her a little wave as she shuts the door to the apartment, filling the space with silence. Not sure what to do, I reach for my laptop under the side table between our two recliners and fire it up. I don’t get on my computer that often anymore because all it does is remind me of what I’m NOT doing these days. I keep it around because Smilly likes to go on Pinterest and create millions of boards about vintage rickrack, elephants swinging their trunks, and recipes that include Doritos. The Dorito recipes I don’t mind; she’s made quite a few good meals actually. Salmon encrusted with a Dorito and dill combo was my favorite. Something about that nacho cheese flavor on the salmon really spoke to me.
It takes a few moments for my computer to come to life, but when it does, four tabs are opened in the browser; Pinterest, Pinterest – Swinging Elephants, Pinterest – Vint
age dresses, and Big, Fat cocks dot com.
“Ugh, gross.” I don’t even bother clicking on the tab to see what penises she was drooling over; I just exit out and then scan her newest pins. All typical for her.
Opening a new tab, I click on Facebook and sign in just as my phone rings.
Shit.
Taking a deep breath, unsure if I should answer, I press the green button and say, “Hey, Tucker, what’s up?”
“Nothing much. How are you?” His raspy voice filters through the phone.
Awkward. I don’t want to exchange pleasantries with Tucker. I want to get to the point and then hang up.
“Fine. What’s going on?”
His deep laugh rumbles through my ear and I clench my legs tight from the sound. That laugh. It used to send goosebumps all along my skin, but now, it only reminds me of what we had, and what we most certainly should never have done together.
“Not much of a talker tonight, I see. How’s the little boy toy at work?”
“Stop. Do not talk about Andrew. Now you can either tell me why you called, or I can hang up. I have a pack of gummy worms and some Facebook stalking scheduled in about five minutes. So spill it.”
“Riveting night, sorry to have bothered it.” He lets out a long breath and I can picture in my mind him grabbing on the back of his knit sock hat. “My boss pulled me into the office today. He’s sending me to Pittsburg for some training for the next month. I leave tomorrow.”
Tucker works in construction. When he graduated high school, instead of going to college, he worked his way up in the company he’d been working with ever since he could be paid to work and actually makes really decent money. I assume this training will only add to his impressive résumé. The question is, why is he telling me?
“Uh, okay.” I can’t think why I’d need to know.
“Wow, have you already forgotten?” He chuckles again. “Man, you’re making this much harder on me than I thought.” Forgot what? Before I can piece everything together, he says, “Our date for Saturday, I’m going to have to postpone it.”
Oh. Oh.
“It wasn’t a date, Tucker.”