Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Ash greedily services me with his mouth while his hands feel like an army on my flabby body. Squeezing, gripping, and stroking every part of my nakedness until I have to wonder if he has two hands or ten?
The man’s a god, a magician with his mouth, and a master with those magic hands.
Finding each part of my body that needs him, just as much as the wettest and hardest parts of my insane arousal, which I know I can’t control anymore.
I’m completely at his mercy, cursing softly then loudly, finally begging him to take me because I need to come so bad.
So hard.
And all for him.
“Oh, we’ll get to that,” he grins, looking up at me with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice.
“But first, you’re gonna come for me, Bridget. You’re going to come in my mouth and I’m going to fucking eat you until you come again and again,” he promises, and I can only gasp and moan louder.
Knowing he means every word of it.
Sensing how close I really am now, Ash uses both his hands and thick fingertips to hold my steaming pussy wide open, my little entrance twitching as it craves him inside me.
His lips are smooth and soft over my swollen bud, teasing my first orgasm from me as easily as he’s picking a rose.
“Oh, ah… Ash… Ash,” I gasp, sitting bolt upright as I’m about to come.
His groans and grunts of pleasure block out the familiar sound that’s cut through everything else.
“Ash… Ash!” I gasp again. “My Mom!”
The sound of her car brakes squeaking in the driveway is unmistakable.
In a single moment, I’ve gone from being so close to having my little pleasure point drained by an expert to feeling like a naughty girl about to be caught with her pants down.
Literally.
I'm about to have the one experience I’ve craved ripped away from me before it’s even happened.
But Ash can’t or won’t listen until I pull at his silver-flecked hair.
“My Mom’s home,” I hiss, both of us locking eyes as we hear her key turning in the lock.
CHAPTER TEN
Ash
Feeling Bridget tense up, this firefighter knows how close he is to emptying his hose in his own pants. But he’s more determined to stake his claim, and taste his girl first. Taste her fucking coming as hard as I know she has to right into my mouth.
All of her sweet cream runs down my chin as I give her round one of what I plan to be an all-day adventure.
Her on her back, with nothing but my face or fat cock between her creamy thighs.
That is, until her Mom decides to come home.
While I’ve been enjoying Bridget, I’ve had to slip my aching hardness out of my pants, and as close as Bridget is to her own climax, my own arousal is twitching and drooling precome once it knows just how close it is to finding it’s forever home.
But neither of us expect nor want to share the moment with her Mother.
I hear myself growl low at the realization that we’ve been interrupted from doing what we both know is the right thing. The only thing we should be doing today.
Bridget looks terrified, but pressing a finger to my own lips, I bask in her scent as I tell her with my eyes to stay quiet.
There’s no way out for this horny hero, standing at full attention.
And Bridget’s eyes only widen once I stand up, showing her exactly what I have for her.
Just not right this minute.
I glance around her tiny room, the door’s the only thing wide enough to cover me, so I swiftly duck behind it. Using it as cover while keeping my eyes on Bridget, signaling her to cover herself up, which she does in a flash. Pulling her bedcovers over herself and lay back flat. Looking like a girl in the throes of a different kind of fever to the one I was giving her just now.
“Bridget?” I hear her Mom call out, and I try to shrink myself as much as I can in the tiny space behind her bedroom door.
My cock still has a mind of its own. Still rock hard.
Still the only thing Bridget can focus on, even when I hear her Mom coming into her room.
“Bridg…? Oh my god!” her Mom exclaims, and I feel a jolt in my gut that signals we’re surely done for.
“What’s wrong, baby?” her Mom cries louder, darting to her bedside, pressing a palm to Bridget’s brow.
The sheen of sweat and heat telling her Mom everything.
“Jesus girl, I’m sorry. I had no idea. You’re running a temperature. Why didn’t you say something?” she gasps.
Bridget’s eyes are wide still and fixed on mine.
I stifle a chuckle, unable to stop watching the comedy of the situation, even though it could all go so horribly wrong if her Mom turned her head just a little to her left.