Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Eli grinds his hips into the mattress as he works his magic, moaning every few seconds. Hums into me.
My hands clench the bedding. Then reach behind me to grip the pillow while my head turns this way and that, thrashing from the pleasure. The excitement. The tingling that’s coursing through my body.
It’s been an age, and it f-feels w-wonderful.
Embarrassingly enough, it doesn’t take long for me to orgasm, my body doing that little shuddering thing it does when I come, legs wanting to close but can’t because Eli is between them, still sucking gently.
Men usually can’t make me come.
I’m usually too inside my own head.
I wish I could look at him, gaze at him and marvel at his accomplishment—congratulate him on a job well done.
This one certainly deserves an award…
Like a rag doll, I lie still, waiting for him to move, eyes growing weary from the oxytocin releasing into my body. Resist the urge to roll over and sleep; resist the urge to roll over and sleep.
Don’t want to be rude.
I should at least say good night first and put my bottoms back on, yeah?
Before he lifts himself off the mattress, groaning. “Shit. There’s cum on the sheets.”
I raise my head. “My cum?” How is that even possible?
“No, mine.” He stands beside the bed. “We may have to flip on the light so I can clean it up. Be right back.”
He came on the bed while he was going down on me?
Well shit.
The light goes on, and I squint for a few seconds, eyes adjusting to the glare, trying to make out the small pool of cum on the bedspread, silently apologizing to the owners. They’re going to have to wash everything.
Ew.
Still.
Eli came on the bed while he was going down on me.
Which means a few things.
He was so turned on by me he couldn’t help it.
He has an incredibly healthy appetite.
He loves going down on women.
Can’t complain about any of that.
I watch as he uses a damp cloth to wipe at the mess, his dick still half hard in his navy boxers, the outline pressing against the front. From what I can see, it’s a decent size—probably a bit bigger than average, but I’m not trying to get caught staring at his junk.
I double-check his work as I slide on my bottoms, making sure I don’t see anything left on the bedding and make a mental note to pull the entire set off the mattress tomorrow and leave a note for housekeeping.
“I can’t believe you came in your pants,” I tell him when we’re nestled back down, not an ounce of embarrassment left in my body.
He laughs, settling in beside me. “Yeah, me either. Haven’t done that since I was a teenager.”
My hand slides onto his stomach, and he covers it with his. Oddly, I feel comfortable. Shouldn’t we be bashful now? We skipped the whole part where we go on a bunch of dates, kiss a lot, pretend we don’t want to have sex, and I pretend I’m a good girl, etc., etc.
No.
Right down to it.
“I can’t tell you the last time I fooled around on a first date. I admit. I don’t think I even behaved like this when I was in college.”
“Well, we’re adults, and we can do whatever the hell we want.”
“So true.”
“Do you know what I keep thinking about right now? What I’m in the mood for?” he asks me.
“Bacon?”
Eli looks over at me. “Yes, how did you know?”
“Because I’m thinking about bacon.” I laugh. “Always thinking about bacon. I don’t even care about eggs or toast. Maybe I’ll have a BLT for dinner tomorrow night.”
Bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.
Mmm, mmm, mmm.
“You can’t have a BLT without me,” he says. “They’re one of my favorites.”
“Ha! They’re also one of my favorites. The best part about it is a good healthy combination of tomato slice and mayonnaise. Can’t skimp on the mayo.”
“Agreed.” He pauses. “What else do you like?”
I barely have to think about my answer. “I would say I also love good pasta paired with a good glass of wine. And…cheese and sausage during a football game. I couldn’t honestly care less about watching sports unless there’s food involved. Is that bad?”
“I mean kind of? I’m the wrong person to be asking, considering I make my living watching sports. But I won’t judge you for standing next to the buffet table.”
“Good because that’s where you’ll find me.”
“What about you? Besides food and work, what is one of your favorite things to do?”
“I like going to the movies in the middle of the afternoon. Grabbing a hot dog, a box of chocolate, and a small popcorn and just wasting the day away.” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “When I was younger, I didn’t have the greatest childhood—my parents worked a lot, and we didn’t have a lot of money for babysitters, so my sister and I were alone a lot. I’m not knocking my parents or anything, I’m just saying—we were left to our own devices. Then again, it was a different time. Moms and dads could do that without worrying so much, know what I mean?”