The Heavenly Baker by J J Monroe Page B

be here for ever, so why pass up a perfect opportunity …’
    â€˜To get some,’ he finishes.
    â€˜That’s my point,’ I say by way of agreement and it must be fate. Clearly, we think alike.
    â€˜Well, don’t let me stop you,’ he murmurs and suddenly it’s game on once more. Who needs sleep anyway? I believe it’s overrated.
    â€˜Now, where was I?’ I whisper and in the darkness he can’t see the ridiculous grin plastered all over my face. Lightning doesn’t strike twice so how do I explain this whole weekend?
    His cock is warm to the touch. It throbs in my palm as I enclose my fingers around it and start to massage it.
    â€˜How do you like this?’ I ask.
    â€˜You have magic hands,’ replies Matt, his voice totally relaxed.
    â€˜If you think my hands are good then you just wait and see …’
    â€˜Now I’m intrigued,’ he murmurs.
    â€˜No,’ I reply, giving him a sneaky tug. ‘You’re not intrigued, you’re horny as hell.’
    â€˜Yes, I am, and by the time I’m finished with you, you’re not going to be able to sit down for a week.’
    â€˜Promises, promises,’ I whisper, starting to build a rhythm with his cock in my hand.
    He tastes sweet, like candy. I’m not a big fan of rock per se, but this stick I could get seriously used to sucking on. He sighs softly and I feel his whole body tense up as the dam prepares to break. I could slow it down and delay the moment. I could stop completely and let the moment pass. I could ease back and then straddle the beast for my own selfish pleasure. Yes, so many possibilities, but all these alternatives require more self-discipline than I currently possess. The Devil smiles on me and I grin back with a mouthful of cock. I suck hard. He is powerless to resist my mischievous tongue and my porn star lips. I sense the surge, feel the explosion against the back of my throat and hear my man sigh blissfully as the urges drain away. I swallow him down but his taste lingers in my mouth. Releasing him, I kiss the tip of his cock before slinking away like a ghost in the night to refuel my parched throat.
    There is a girl looking back at me from the semi-darkness of the en suite hotel bathroom. She watches me reach for my toothbrush and apply toothpaste. She says nothing but she knows every thought running through my head and every dream I have ever had.
    â€˜Careful,’ she whispers. ‘I know you and I know how this ends.’
    â€˜I know what I’m doing,’ I reply.
    â€˜You think you do, but these are strange days,’ warns the reflection in the mirror. ‘This is not your playground and these are not your rules. You know he is a player but you’ve rushed in with little thought for your own safety.’
    â€˜He’s a good man.’
    â€˜You can’t know that for sure. You hope and you pray he is, but you can’t know for sure. Television is a conduit for lies. You’re just a weekend plaything.’
    â€˜No, that’s not true. You don’t know anything.’
    â€˜What do you know for sure?’ she asks. ‘You have given yourself freely to him. You can expect nothing in return if you trade yourself so cheaply.’
    â€˜Can’t a girl be allowed to have a little fun?’
    â€˜She can so long as she is prepared to accept it for what it is; a little fun and nothing more, but I know you. I know your hopes and dreams and I see this expectation already starting to take root. You must expect nothing from him otherwise he will disappoint you.’
    â€˜You don’t know that.’
    â€˜So it has started already,’ the girl in the mirror says. ‘You are a foolish girl. What do you know of love and sex?’
    â€˜Shut up!’ I warn.
    â€˜You know talking to yourself could be considered the first sign of madness.’
    His voice resonates through the en suite door, but there