and dinner, I don’t see why I should be off the menu. If those tally marks attest to anything it’s that his penis isn’t all that picky.
“Any requests?”
“Chocolate,” I shout as he starts to head in. “Oh—and throw in a jelly filled!” I should have said cream filled and got his wheels turning.
A rise of heat filters through me as I give a casual nod, but everything about this feels anything but casual. God—it actually feels like a date . I should write Jeanie a thank you note—or, more specifically, her insatiable vagina, although I doubt either of them would know who sent it.
Bryson reappears in record time, and I follow him out as a soft haze fills the streets.
A sign appears that reads, Welcome to Hollow Brook as the city turns decidedly rural, and strip malls are replaced with dense emerald pines. The air cools as we ride to higher elevations. My thighs called it quits about ten minutes ago, but my lips won’t let the protest fly as I soldier on right behind Bryson.
He pulls us off onto a dirt path, and we head into a clearing that opens to a cloud of vapors emitting from a tiny pool of water. It’s partially hidden behind a series of boulders, and it looks like a dream, a fairytale.
“What is this place?” I try to not to sound so out of breath as I park my bike alongside his. My legs feel like rubber as I walk over to admire the view. If Bryson did want to have his way with me, I might collapse and lay there like a corpse. Not exactly the way I envisioned losing my virginity.
“The Witch’s Cauldron.”
We take a seat on the lowest boulder overlooking the aquamarine spring, the perfect size of a hot tub, and Bryson pulls me in by the waist. My breathing ceases. Dear God, he did drag me out into the middle of nowhere just so he could have his way with me!
“Wow”—I clear my throat—“it’s so amazingly beautiful.” I gaze into the tiny pool as a layer of mist wafts over the surface.
“It is beautiful.” His hand grazes mine as he passes me a cup of coffee, and my entire body breaks out in a fit of perspiration. “So are you.”
I suck in a quick breath and hold it. I’ve never had that kind of a compliment before, certainly not from a sex god like Bryson. Although, he did already add a tally mark to his wall this morning. Maybe he’s going for double or nothing? With my luck he’s still on autopilot, and the compliments are just a part of the carnal package.
“Thank you.” I take a sip of coffee only to burn the tip of my tongue. “You don’t have to practice your pick up lines around me.” I land my hand over his arm to push him off but don’t have the will to do it. “I’m not really in your league.” I glance down at the rim of my coffee, embarrassed by my admission, true as it might be.
Honestly? Could I have let fifteen minutes go by without dragging us into the awkward zone?
“I don’t have a league.” His eyes meet with mine before he removes his arm and opens the tiny pink donut box with half a dozen sugared treats staring back at us. “But if I did, I’m pretty sure I’d let you in.” He pushes into me playfully with his shoulder, and my body lights up with hope.
I glance up at him and hold his gaze, heavy as steel. “According to those tally marks, you let a lot of girls in.”
“Touché.”
“Jelly.” I hold up a donut. I’d better shove it into my mouth before anymore word-vomit oozes out of me. The next thing I’ll be telling him is that I want to pull a Jeanie Waters with him and commence the fuck-fest immediately. That pool of steaming water looks like a good place to start, although I’m betting he’s already “tapped that well,” too. I bet there’s nowhere he hasn’t committed a carnal crime and not very many girls he hasn’t committed them with. Except, of course, me, and now it’s quickly becoming evident I’m on a mission to rectify that.
“So tell me about your classes.” He’s not eating. He’s not even
“Any requests?”
“Chocolate,” I shout as he starts to head in. “Oh—and throw in a jelly filled!” I should have said cream filled and got his wheels turning.
A rise of heat filters through me as I give a casual nod, but everything about this feels anything but casual. God—it actually feels like a date . I should write Jeanie a thank you note—or, more specifically, her insatiable vagina, although I doubt either of them would know who sent it.
Bryson reappears in record time, and I follow him out as a soft haze fills the streets.
A sign appears that reads, Welcome to Hollow Brook as the city turns decidedly rural, and strip malls are replaced with dense emerald pines. The air cools as we ride to higher elevations. My thighs called it quits about ten minutes ago, but my lips won’t let the protest fly as I soldier on right behind Bryson.
He pulls us off onto a dirt path, and we head into a clearing that opens to a cloud of vapors emitting from a tiny pool of water. It’s partially hidden behind a series of boulders, and it looks like a dream, a fairytale.
“What is this place?” I try to not to sound so out of breath as I park my bike alongside his. My legs feel like rubber as I walk over to admire the view. If Bryson did want to have his way with me, I might collapse and lay there like a corpse. Not exactly the way I envisioned losing my virginity.
“The Witch’s Cauldron.”
We take a seat on the lowest boulder overlooking the aquamarine spring, the perfect size of a hot tub, and Bryson pulls me in by the waist. My breathing ceases. Dear God, he did drag me out into the middle of nowhere just so he could have his way with me!
“Wow”—I clear my throat—“it’s so amazingly beautiful.” I gaze into the tiny pool as a layer of mist wafts over the surface.
“It is beautiful.” His hand grazes mine as he passes me a cup of coffee, and my entire body breaks out in a fit of perspiration. “So are you.”
I suck in a quick breath and hold it. I’ve never had that kind of a compliment before, certainly not from a sex god like Bryson. Although, he did already add a tally mark to his wall this morning. Maybe he’s going for double or nothing? With my luck he’s still on autopilot, and the compliments are just a part of the carnal package.
“Thank you.” I take a sip of coffee only to burn the tip of my tongue. “You don’t have to practice your pick up lines around me.” I land my hand over his arm to push him off but don’t have the will to do it. “I’m not really in your league.” I glance down at the rim of my coffee, embarrassed by my admission, true as it might be.
Honestly? Could I have let fifteen minutes go by without dragging us into the awkward zone?
“I don’t have a league.” His eyes meet with mine before he removes his arm and opens the tiny pink donut box with half a dozen sugared treats staring back at us. “But if I did, I’m pretty sure I’d let you in.” He pushes into me playfully with his shoulder, and my body lights up with hope.
I glance up at him and hold his gaze, heavy as steel. “According to those tally marks, you let a lot of girls in.”
“Touché.”
“Jelly.” I hold up a donut. I’d better shove it into my mouth before anymore word-vomit oozes out of me. The next thing I’ll be telling him is that I want to pull a Jeanie Waters with him and commence the fuck-fest immediately. That pool of steaming water looks like a good place to start, although I’m betting he’s already “tapped that well,” too. I bet there’s nowhere he hasn’t committed a carnal crime and not very many girls he hasn’t committed them with. Except, of course, me, and now it’s quickly becoming evident I’m on a mission to rectify that.
“So tell me about your classes.” He’s not eating. He’s not even
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