Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
The moans start up again, and I wonder what’s going on. Slowly, I push the door to Catherine’s bedroom open a crack, and the sight that greets me makes me hard. It’s Catherine, but not in one of the demure outfits I’m used to seeing her wear. Instead, she’s buck naked and kneeling on the mattress while facing me. Her eyes are closed and her face is a rictus of ecstasy. Her large breasts bounce as she works something in and around her pussy.
My gaze lowers, and I see that it’s a small vibrator. Not one of those huge ones that will take your v-card for you. Instead, Catherine’s using a small rabbit that she runs in circles around her engorged clit before slipping the knob an inch or two inside her velvet pussy. It comes out slick and wet, and she moans again, enjoying the penetration.
Then, Catherine does something that I’ve only seen in porn before. She’s got huge, generous breasts, and with one hand, she lifts one to her face before leaning forward and licking the tip with her tongue. Then, she latches onto her own nipple and suckles deeply, even as her pussy spasms with delight from the stimulation. Fuck! How did the girl get so dirty? She’s got the face of an angel, but the body and the moves of a professional porn star.
I stand there, frozen in place. My rod is already dripping, and I desperately need to be in her. But this is wrong. Maybe Angela and I are already broken up, but still. That doesn’t mean that I should be boning her younger sister just days after the break-up happened.
I can’t help it though. Slowly, I maneuver my cock out of my pants and stroke it while peering through the crack in the door. Catherine’s stopped suckling her breast, and she’s now riding the tiny dildo furiously, moaning and tossing her head with pleasure as her wet folds close around it. Suddenly, her ecstasy reaches a peak because I see her pussy spasm violently, and she lets out a loud scream.
“Hunter!” she cries. “Oh god, YES! Right there!”
I freeze in place. Did she just call my name?
But it’s true. Evidently, the sweet girl has been masturbating to fantasies of me, and even now, she shakes and trembles while crying out my name in desperate gasps. I’m turned on by the sight. Her big breasts shake and roll as her pussy spasms again and again, hot fluids seeping down her thighs.
I’m tempted to burst in and make her ride my cock for real, but then I think better of it. That would be too much for a sweet virgin like Catherine. It would be coming on too strong, too fast. Instead, I’m going to think of a better plan, but rest assured … the sweet girl will be riding me sooner or later, that much is certain.
4
Hunter
A few days later, I’m waiting at Angela and Catherine’s apartment again. Angela is always at damned cheerleading practice because she loves bossing the other girls around. She’s a queen bee and bitch wrapped in one, and as the captain of the cheerleading squad, she’s got the other girls shaking in fear. There’s no way she would miss practice.
But Catherine is another story. I was supposed to leave my key here, but I didn’t. Instead, I’ve decided to let myself in once again and lie in wait. Technically, this is breaking and entering since I have no business being here, but I don’t care. The mental image of Catherine orgasming hard while screaming my name is burned in my brain, and I have to have more.
The sound of the front door opening causes me to spring to my feet. Catherine enters, and I catch my breath at her lush figure. Her breasts are ripe and full, prettily displayed in a tight t-shirt. Her jeans hug her hips, promising of the pleasure to come.
“Hunter!” she says, shooting me a shocked look. “Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”
I grin.
“This is your apartment. I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”
She smiles shyly.
“Well, welcome. What are you doing here?” she asks setting her book bag down on the countertop. “Angela isn’t coming home until later.”
“Um, she told me to come over,” I say, fibbing on the fly. “I was going to borrow some cookbooks.”
Catherine looks confused.
“Really? You cook? Angela cooks?”
Oh shit. Clearly, I’m not very good at lying.
“Um, no. I mean, yes. I think Angela was referring to these cookbooks here. They’re yours right? Angela told me I could borrow one because I’ve been meaning to learn how to cook.”
Fortunately, my ex-girlfriend is exactly the type of lend out someone else’s stuff.
“Oh sure,” says Catherine, her expression still puzzled. “Help yourself. I haven’t used any of those in ages.”
I pretend to leaf through one, as if I’m interested. Then I look up.