Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
“Shit,” I grumble. Soaping up my body while thinking of Aspen has my cock rock solid. The only thing I have is my fist, but it’s damn tired of using that. Especially these past few weeks. No, all it can think of is Aspen’s hands, her mouth, her cunt, or hell, her ass. Fuck, I can already imagine it, my hands in her hair as she sucks my cock, the sounds she’ll make as she takes my cock into the sweet depths of her pussy. A pussy I was fucking dying to get inside. Seeing a tease of it last night only has me counting down the days even more until she’s in my sights again.
The soft tone of Aspen’s voice telling me her deepest fantasies, how I told her in explicit detail exactly what I’d do to her the minute I had her on my bed when she came back to Texas and I was off work.
Hell, she had me fisting my cock while we were on a video call, her fantastic fucking rack, chest heaving, her top slowly falling to underneath the swells of her tits as we both slowly moved our hands down our bodies, Aspen dropping the phone at one point, trying to hold on to it while playing with that pretty pussy of hers. It was a fucking view. Soft, bare flesh, weeping with want and desire. I could practically taste it when she showed me, the lips of her pussy opening while she worked her fingers, first on her clit, teasing herself before dipping her fingers inside her cunt. My hands fucking ached to be between her legs, the palms of my hands holding her sweet-as-fuck ass, legs thrown over my shoulders as I licked every drop she had and more.
My hand travels the length of my torso, hating like hell it’ll be my fist once again but reliving the moments of watching Aspen come. There’s only so much a man can take. When she came down from her high, her face was soft, as was the small smile she gave me. And then when she said, “Your turn,” well, who was I to turn down that sweet-as-hell request?
I gave her what she wanted, making a full display of it by propping the phone up. My balls were aching for a release, so when I grasped my cock with one hand and my balls in the other, it only took minutes until I was the one moaning this time. Her name leaving my lips had her breathing heavy again, as if she were ready to go again. I stroke the length of my cock, soap dripping from my hands as I work myself into another frenzy that won’t even take the edge off, not until I have Aspen’s mouth on mine. One thing I regret the fucking most is not taking her mouth the night I took her to the airport.
“God damn,” I groan as my balls start to feel tight, the tingling in my lower back coming out of nowhere, and I’m coming, hating like hell my cum is going down the drain and not in Aspen’s mouth, cunt, or on her tits. I know without a doubt in my mind I’ll be painting her in my cum. Hell, I’ll even have her rub it into her skin. I want me on her. Always.
I finish rinsing off, turn the water off, grab the towel off the hook, and dry off. It’s already getting late, and after Aspen’s day of playing catch-up, I know our time is dwindling along with my need to eat, grab some sleep, and do it all over again for the next fucking seven days until I can rest my eyes on the real-life Aspen instead of her face on my phone screen.
Three
Aspen
Jasper wasn’t wrong when he said he worked relentlessly when he was out on the rig. It’s been a few days since I’ve been back home in Victor, Texas. The change in weather from Virginia to here is unbelievably amazing. Where it’s already frigid this fall where I grew up, down here it’s beautiful at a balmy seventy degrees.
I returned from my parents on a Tuesday; it makes for a short week. Stella loves working on Saturdays, and Ruthie decided to listen to me and took yesterday and today off. All I have to do is stop by the shop, grab the money, and make a drop at the bank. That’s probably why I’m sitting on the couch, curled up with a blanket on my lap, a cup of coffee in one hand and the remote in the other. I may as well binge-watch a new show until I need to go into Vintage Threads today. Heck, Stella could probably do the deposit, but I hate to ask her when she’s still a teenager. I’d feel horrible if something happened.