Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
My body’s a mess of wanting to prolong my orgasm, and getting off as quickly as possible. I don’t want this feeling to end. I don’t want this fucking night to end.
I pick up speed as I pound into her tight pussy. I never in my life have been this turned on. The sex turns frantic. It’s pure fucking at this point, and I run a hand up and down her body, trying to feel all of her in this moment.
I’m so fucking close. So close to coming deep inside her.
“Are you on the pill?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah. Do it, come inside me, Roman. I want to feel you.”
This woman is perfect for me. The sound of her asking me to come inside her makes my heart beat amp up. Is this really happening?
I’ve had dreams just like this, but have always woken up before I could finish off inside her. This is so much better than any dream.
This is the real thing. And I’m nowhere near done with her yet.
I want to go to sleep fully satisfied by her. I want to be the man to take care of her.
“Greer, you do this to me. You make me so fucking hard,” I tell her, wanting her to know this is all for her.
Every inch of my cock pumping inside her tight cunt is all for her. She does this to me. She turns me into this ravenous man who can’t get enough.
My body heightens, my orgasm slamming into me like a sledgehammer. It nearly knocks the wind out of me, and I keep thrusting, screwing her into the mattress as my orgasm rolls through me.
As our bodies calm, I gaze down at Greer. “You make me come so good, sweetheart.”
She nods. “Same.”
She heads into the ensuite bathroom to clean up, and when she returns she’s dressed in a dainty robe.
“Come lay with me,” I tell her.
She nestles beside me, her warmth enveloping me like a cocoon. The gnawing anxiety is gone, and for the first time in a long time I’m truly happy.
“How’s everything going?” Marley Dale asks me as I sit in her office. “Is the Prozac helping?”
“Honestly, I never even filled the prescription.”
“Why not?”
“I want to overcome my anxiety on my own. I know I can. Anxiety will not be something that defines me, but it’s hard. I feel it creeping up when I least expect it.”
“I can respect that. I have many patients who want to take a more cognitive behavioral approach, and that’s okay. Each journey is different. There’s no right or wrong way to treat anxiety.” She leans forward, placing both elbows on her desk and steepling her hands together like a chapel spire. “Have you had any more attacks?”
I shake my head. “I’ve felt the anxiety bubble up, but am always able to calm myself down before it gets out of hand.”
She nods. “That’s very good. What helps you calm down? Breathing? Meditating? Something else?”
I don’t want to tell her sex with Greer is the answer to unlocking all of my anxiety, but it’s like she can tell by the look I give her.
She nods again. “Ah, I see. It’s the something else.”
“Is it crazy that a person can make me feel calm? Whenever I’m around Greer I feel alive.”
“That’s absolutely normal with love. My husband was going through something traumatic when I first met him.” She leans back in her chair and adopts a smile on her face. “I was one of his students in college, and he was a complete grump. We used to call him the meanest professor around.” She chuckles lightly. “Well, we had more colorful names for him, but you see what I mean. We never know what someone is going through, and we never know who can help them out of that dark place.” She leans forward again. “Greer might be the light to the dark tunnel you’re in right now.”
An uneasiness settles over me. “Well,” I start, and then I tell Marley the whole truth about what Greer and I are really doing. About the fauxmance.
She listens intently to my story, and when I’ve finished she only smiles wider. “Maybe that’s what started as your story, but I don’t think it’s where your story will end.”
“She’s my best friend. I can’t do anything to compromise that.”
“But, you love her, right?” Marley asks me point blank.
Now it’s my turn to lean back in the leather armchair I’m sitting in. “I don’t know. I think I’ve always loved her.”
“I know you love her as a friend, but what about romantically?”
I nod. “Yes, I love her. I want to be with her always.”
Marley beams. “That’s amazing, but I don’t want you to become dependent on her as an anxiety crutch.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you to only be able to calm your anxiety down by using her. Do you see what I’m saying? I want you to overcome your anxiety by looking for the root cause. By doing work on yourself, not because you have a crutch to lean on.”