Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“I’m gonna bury my tongue here in a couple hours.”
She exhaled shakily. “Okay.”
Grace was asleep before Pipsqueak was done working in the kitchen, so I took a shower and then sat down in the living room to catch up on the news.
No thievery required. Pipsqueak brought me coffee, a snack plate of three chocolate truffles, and a handful of potato chips.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” I pulled her down quickly for a languid kiss.
She smiled, tasting of chocolate. “I hope you like them. They actually go with the chips.”
“Yeah?” My interest was piqued. “Is it the next top seller?”
“No, I’m not gonna sell them. You kind of need the chips for the blend to be complete,” she replied, straightening. “I just wanted to experiment with something that might be up your alley.”
Now I was even more curious. I leaned forward and inspected the plate. She advised me to take two chips and one chocolate. There was a fine yellow dusting of something on the chips that hadn’t been there before. She must’ve sprinkled it on.
I did as told and bit into the strange combination, and then my mouth was engulfed in the flavors of dark chocolate, sea salt, caramel, potato chips, and cheddar. That was the yellow dusting. Popcorn seasoning with cheddar flavor.
“How the fuck can this be delicious?” I blurted out with my mouth full. It was a mindfuck and a half.
Pipsqueak beamed down at me. “I’ll consider that a success!”
She should. Goddamn.
“I just need another hour or so,” she said. “Holler if you want anything.”
I was beginning to want a whole lot from her.
There were worse things than being woken up on the couch by Pipsqueak on her knees, tugging at my sweats.
I yawned and lifted up enough for her to yank them down.
She must’ve muted the TV.
She must’ve drawn the blinds on the patio doors too.
“You ready to go to bed, baby?” I asked drowsily.
“Not yet.” She leaned forward and sucked my soft cock into her mouth.
I blew out a heavy breath and rubbed at my face.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
She got me hard in no time.
My head lolled back along the couch cushion, and I threaded my fingers into her hair to guide her movements over my cock. She sucked me greedily and as if she were doing it for herself, as if it gave her pleasure to suck me off.
Jesus.
I offered lazy, sluggish thrusts, feeling the tip of her tongue tracing the vein on the underside of me.
My eyes nearly rolled back when she took me so deep that her throat squeezed the head of my cock.
Her short but very intense introduction to giving head had taught her two things, one of which she’d expected and felt bad about before I’d set her mind straight. She couldn’t swallow. She couldn’t handle the texture when my come flooded her mouth. And I just couldn’t care less. I’d rather come in her pussy anyway. But the second thing, and my fucking God, was it amazing—her nonexistent gag reflex.
“I’m not gonna last,” I warned, out of breath.
She hummed and swirled her tongue around me, suckling at the slit and grazing her teeth carefully along the ridges.
“Fuck—fuck, fuck,” I groaned. “Elise—now.”
She scrambled off the floor and got on all fours on the couch, and I bunched up her dress before I slid her thong aside. The sight of her made my mouth go dry. I kneaded her ass cheeks and guided my cock to her wet entrance, and I just pushed in. Hard. All the way. Her moan spurred me on, but she knew it wasn’t going to be a lasting fuck. With a tight grip on her hips, I all but jackhammered into her tight pussy until my orgasm took over a couple minutes later.
Yeah, no, I seriously couldn’t care less about her not wanting to swallow. Sweet mother of…fuck.
The absolute best part was how needy she became. When I slumped back into my seat and righted my clothes, she was ready to climb the walls because of how sexually frustrated she was. Tonight, I stopped her before I became the wall she climbed.
“I want you to stand up in front of me and slide down your panties,” I said.
Flushed with need and her nipples tight underneath her dress, she came to a stand between me and the coffee table. Her underwear ended up on the floor.
I parted my knees a bit more and tugged at my junk. “Spread your legs.” I nodded at her. “Lift your dress, too.”
Pipsqueak and I had had a couple enlightening conversations about porn recently. She’d admitted her library was quite fucking impressive, and for several years, it was how she’d fueled her fantasies. Porn and erotic novels she’d found online. She wanted it rough, she wanted it uninhibited, she wanted it dirty, she wanted me…to control her.