on that crap? Macy never wears perfume and she
smells delicious.
“A
hotel?” Amber says with a disapproving look.
“Sorry,
babe, but my house is being bombed for spiders.”
“Spiders?”
“Big
nasty ones,” I lie, swiping the card to unlock the door. “Not poisonous, but
still.”
She
shudders and shakes her head. “I hate spiders.” Yep. All women do. It’s a
surefire way to get a woman to agree to a hotel without making her feel cheap.
I’ve
done this so long it’s second nature. Rent a hotel room beforehand and drive
her car if possible so I can leave without leaving her without transportation.
The cab companies know me well.
“Give
me just a sec,” she says, and bats her eyelashes at me before disappearing into
the bathroom. Stripping down to my underwear, I toss a couple condoms on the
bed. The clock shows it’s almost midnight, and I wonder how Macy’s doing. Is
she asleep? Having another panic attack when I’m not there to talk her through
it?
Shit.
This isn’t the time to think about her. Amber emerges from the bathroom in a
set of tiny purple lingerie. Looks like I wasn’t the only one planning to get
laid tonight. Swollen round tits bounce as she sashays over to me, licking her
lips. Her gaze sweeps over me and a wide smile stretches her mouth.
My
hands fall automatically to her hips when she runs her fingers down my abs.
Without a word, she kisses me, sweeping her tongue around my mouth. Her lips
are too firm and she tastes like vodka.
It
makes me long for Macy’s soft lips and sweet mouth. She palms my cock through
my boxers and it doesn’t even twitch. Tits. That’s what I need. With a
practiced flick, I unfasten her bra and come face to face with two round melons
with nipples the size of hubcaps. I know they’re fake before I take their firm
weight in my hands.
Nothing
like Macy’s soft mounds and tasty little raspberry colored nipples. What is
wrong with me? I’ve never had a problem with fake tits before. I need to stop
thinking and analyzing. A beautiful woman has her hand down my shorts and I’m
not even a little hard.
“Little
too much to drink tonight, baby?” she murmurs. “No problem. I’ve got this.” She
sits on the edge of the bed and shoves my boxers down, pulling me toward her.
“I see the one rumor is true,” she says, grinning up at me before taking my
whole length in her mouth.
I
sink my hands into her hair and mumble, “Yes, fuck.”
She
moans, really going to town on me, and I try like hell to want it. To enjoy it.
To block out the sight of those coffee colored eyes that keep haunting me.
Thinking of Macy’s little figure with those long slender legs firms me up a
little, but not nearly enough. I can’t believe this shit. I’m Parker Reed. I
can always get it up. This is humiliating. Fucking Macy.
With
a growl, I pull her off me and shove her on the bed. Maybe I can’t fuck her,
but I can damn sure make her come. Maybe that’s what she’ll remember instead of
telling her friends I’ve got a limp dick.
She
squeals when I jerk off her panties and sink two fingers inside her, going
straight for the g-spot. My thumb rubs over her clit. “Yes, right there!” she
cries.
In
less than a minute, she’s coming on my hand, something that usually makes me
hard as stone, but that doesn’t faze me now. When she reaches for my cock
again, I press harder, rubbing without mercy and pinching her clit. “One more.
Give me another one,” I order. There’s no way I can fuck her. Hands clawing the
covers, she cries out through another orgasm.
I
have my boxers and jeans back on before she can recover. “Fuck. I don’t think
I’ve ever come twice that fast.”
“Look,
I’m sorry, but I guess I had too much to drink.” I resist spouting the typical
this never happens to me line, even though it’s true.
She
peeks up at me, a satisfied expression on her face. “Happens to everyone, hun.
Just promise me a raincheck. If you can do that with one
smells delicious.
“A
hotel?” Amber says with a disapproving look.
“Sorry,
babe, but my house is being bombed for spiders.”
“Spiders?”
“Big
nasty ones,” I lie, swiping the card to unlock the door. “Not poisonous, but
still.”
She
shudders and shakes her head. “I hate spiders.” Yep. All women do. It’s a
surefire way to get a woman to agree to a hotel without making her feel cheap.
I’ve
done this so long it’s second nature. Rent a hotel room beforehand and drive
her car if possible so I can leave without leaving her without transportation.
The cab companies know me well.
“Give
me just a sec,” she says, and bats her eyelashes at me before disappearing into
the bathroom. Stripping down to my underwear, I toss a couple condoms on the
bed. The clock shows it’s almost midnight, and I wonder how Macy’s doing. Is
she asleep? Having another panic attack when I’m not there to talk her through
it?
Shit.
This isn’t the time to think about her. Amber emerges from the bathroom in a
set of tiny purple lingerie. Looks like I wasn’t the only one planning to get
laid tonight. Swollen round tits bounce as she sashays over to me, licking her
lips. Her gaze sweeps over me and a wide smile stretches her mouth.
My
hands fall automatically to her hips when she runs her fingers down my abs.
Without a word, she kisses me, sweeping her tongue around my mouth. Her lips
are too firm and she tastes like vodka.
It
makes me long for Macy’s soft lips and sweet mouth. She palms my cock through
my boxers and it doesn’t even twitch. Tits. That’s what I need. With a
practiced flick, I unfasten her bra and come face to face with two round melons
with nipples the size of hubcaps. I know they’re fake before I take their firm
weight in my hands.
Nothing
like Macy’s soft mounds and tasty little raspberry colored nipples. What is
wrong with me? I’ve never had a problem with fake tits before. I need to stop
thinking and analyzing. A beautiful woman has her hand down my shorts and I’m
not even a little hard.
“Little
too much to drink tonight, baby?” she murmurs. “No problem. I’ve got this.” She
sits on the edge of the bed and shoves my boxers down, pulling me toward her.
“I see the one rumor is true,” she says, grinning up at me before taking my
whole length in her mouth.
I
sink my hands into her hair and mumble, “Yes, fuck.”
She
moans, really going to town on me, and I try like hell to want it. To enjoy it.
To block out the sight of those coffee colored eyes that keep haunting me.
Thinking of Macy’s little figure with those long slender legs firms me up a
little, but not nearly enough. I can’t believe this shit. I’m Parker Reed. I
can always get it up. This is humiliating. Fucking Macy.
With
a growl, I pull her off me and shove her on the bed. Maybe I can’t fuck her,
but I can damn sure make her come. Maybe that’s what she’ll remember instead of
telling her friends I’ve got a limp dick.
She
squeals when I jerk off her panties and sink two fingers inside her, going
straight for the g-spot. My thumb rubs over her clit. “Yes, right there!” she
cries.
In
less than a minute, she’s coming on my hand, something that usually makes me
hard as stone, but that doesn’t faze me now. When she reaches for my cock
again, I press harder, rubbing without mercy and pinching her clit. “One more.
Give me another one,” I order. There’s no way I can fuck her. Hands clawing the
covers, she cries out through another orgasm.
I
have my boxers and jeans back on before she can recover. “Fuck. I don’t think
I’ve ever come twice that fast.”
“Look,
I’m sorry, but I guess I had too much to drink.” I resist spouting the typical
this never happens to me line, even though it’s true.
She
peeks up at me, a satisfied expression on her face. “Happens to everyone, hun.
Just promise me a raincheck. If you can do that with one
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