easy.”
“So you’re saying I have a big cock.”
She snarls in frustration, half yell and half growl. “Watch your damn mouth. My kid might overhear you.”
“You said it first.”
“I said no, first. No date, no socializing, no more awkward dinners where you eat out half my fridge.”
“That’s not the only thing I’d like to eat out.”
She turns beet red, I mean so red I think all the blood in her body just flowed to her cheeks. The look on her face is half rage and half…
She’s totally thinking about it. Hard. Visualizing it in exquisite detail. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be staring at my mouth.
“You jerk” is all she can manage. “Just leave.”
“I’m finishing the dishes.”
“I said leave.”
“There’s only a couple pots.”
“I can scrub my own pot.”
“I’d rather scrub your pot for you.”
“Get. Out.”
“Fine, fine, I’m leaving. Dinner was great. So about that date, pick you up at five on Friday?”
“Are you completely out of your mind?”
“What, you have something better to do?”
“Yes, spend some of my rare free time with my child.”
“So, that’s a no.”
“Yes.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Out!” she yells.
“Okay, fine, fine, I’m going.”
I strut to the front door and stand in the open doorway staring back at her. Her tank top is wet from drying dishes and clinging to her body. Her nipples are very hard, and her legs are shaking. She gives me a look that could melt steel, her lips parted a little like she’s thinking about hopping on my cock right now.
I give her a wave and pull the door shut, and strut back to my rental. I lock the front door behind me and stand there panting. My chin drops and I look down, staring at my own hard on tenting my shorts like it’s taunting me.
Fuck, that was hot. She’s got a mouth on her, that one. The bubbleheads Lou sets me up with just stare at me blankly half the time. I got sick of dealing with them after the fourth girlfriend who just lays there like a starfish while I do all the work, and started just taking them to dinner for appearance’s sake. Lou insists I look like the big stud, pulling down all the top class trim.
Whatever. He’d tell me to stay away from Phoebe. He tells me lots of things.
I need to take care of this. I trudge upstairs, shove my clothes off, and fall back against the wall, roughly jerking my cock as if I’m angry at it for getting me into this.
While I stroke myself, I picture Phoebe buck-ass naked. My mind’s eye puts a nice sheen of sweat on her for good measure, so I can imagine licking it off. I want my hands and mouth on her body. I want to taste her and kiss her and get her so wet, she pleads with me.
The thought of it gets me even harder. My balls tighten at the idea of caressing her collarbone with the tips of my fingers, of what her tongue would taste like in my mouth, how she would squirm and writhe in my hands as I eat her out. I wonder if she has those freckles all over her body as heavily as they are on her cheeks.
Imagining her bending over and flexing her tight ass while my cock slides into her drives me over the edge and I explode into my hands, panting and covered in sweat. God, I would fuck her into the ground, ram inside her and hammer her and keep going without stopping between climaxes so I could pump her full.
Panting, I climb into the shower and turn it on, hot and then ice cold. I lean my hands on the tiles and grit my teeth as the water flows over my back. Standing, I aim the spray straight at my crotch and suppress a cry from the chill.
After I stumble out and dry off, I look out the bedroom window across the yard at Phoebe’s house. She has her blinds drawn, but I can see her moving inside.
No, this is wrong.
The curtains are pretty sheer and I can see her walking around. She turns her back to the window and rubs at her neck, and I realize she’s topless. If she turns around--
I shove my curtains closed. No, I’m not
“So you’re saying I have a big cock.”
She snarls in frustration, half yell and half growl. “Watch your damn mouth. My kid might overhear you.”
“You said it first.”
“I said no, first. No date, no socializing, no more awkward dinners where you eat out half my fridge.”
“That’s not the only thing I’d like to eat out.”
She turns beet red, I mean so red I think all the blood in her body just flowed to her cheeks. The look on her face is half rage and half…
She’s totally thinking about it. Hard. Visualizing it in exquisite detail. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be staring at my mouth.
“You jerk” is all she can manage. “Just leave.”
“I’m finishing the dishes.”
“I said leave.”
“There’s only a couple pots.”
“I can scrub my own pot.”
“I’d rather scrub your pot for you.”
“Get. Out.”
“Fine, fine, I’m leaving. Dinner was great. So about that date, pick you up at five on Friday?”
“Are you completely out of your mind?”
“What, you have something better to do?”
“Yes, spend some of my rare free time with my child.”
“So, that’s a no.”
“Yes.”
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Out!” she yells.
“Okay, fine, fine, I’m going.”
I strut to the front door and stand in the open doorway staring back at her. Her tank top is wet from drying dishes and clinging to her body. Her nipples are very hard, and her legs are shaking. She gives me a look that could melt steel, her lips parted a little like she’s thinking about hopping on my cock right now.
I give her a wave and pull the door shut, and strut back to my rental. I lock the front door behind me and stand there panting. My chin drops and I look down, staring at my own hard on tenting my shorts like it’s taunting me.
Fuck, that was hot. She’s got a mouth on her, that one. The bubbleheads Lou sets me up with just stare at me blankly half the time. I got sick of dealing with them after the fourth girlfriend who just lays there like a starfish while I do all the work, and started just taking them to dinner for appearance’s sake. Lou insists I look like the big stud, pulling down all the top class trim.
Whatever. He’d tell me to stay away from Phoebe. He tells me lots of things.
I need to take care of this. I trudge upstairs, shove my clothes off, and fall back against the wall, roughly jerking my cock as if I’m angry at it for getting me into this.
While I stroke myself, I picture Phoebe buck-ass naked. My mind’s eye puts a nice sheen of sweat on her for good measure, so I can imagine licking it off. I want my hands and mouth on her body. I want to taste her and kiss her and get her so wet, she pleads with me.
The thought of it gets me even harder. My balls tighten at the idea of caressing her collarbone with the tips of my fingers, of what her tongue would taste like in my mouth, how she would squirm and writhe in my hands as I eat her out. I wonder if she has those freckles all over her body as heavily as they are on her cheeks.
Imagining her bending over and flexing her tight ass while my cock slides into her drives me over the edge and I explode into my hands, panting and covered in sweat. God, I would fuck her into the ground, ram inside her and hammer her and keep going without stopping between climaxes so I could pump her full.
Panting, I climb into the shower and turn it on, hot and then ice cold. I lean my hands on the tiles and grit my teeth as the water flows over my back. Standing, I aim the spray straight at my crotch and suppress a cry from the chill.
After I stumble out and dry off, I look out the bedroom window across the yard at Phoebe’s house. She has her blinds drawn, but I can see her moving inside.
No, this is wrong.
The curtains are pretty sheer and I can see her walking around. She turns her back to the window and rubs at her neck, and I realize she’s topless. If she turns around--
I shove my curtains closed. No, I’m not
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