Sick Hate – Sick World Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Sports, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
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“I want to do more. Tell me what to do.”

I suck in a breath, then nod. “OK. Let’s start with something easy.” I want to be inside her, but it’s not gonna feel good. I’d rather we both feel good. So I take one of her hands and push it down, directing her where to place it. She’s holding her breath, I can tell. But when she grips me, she lets it out.

I lean my head back against the tiled wall and let my eyelids droop a little. Relaxing.

Then I show her how to get me off.

She watches the whole thing. My hand, over her hand, just jerking me off. And I watch her back, fascinated. Unable to recall another time where I was so fuckin’ enthralled with a woman.

I take my hand away and she keeps going, increasing the rhythm and the tightness of her grip. I fight to keep my eyes open and only just barely mange it when I come, gritting my teeth and instantly wanting more.

She’s still looking down, watching with interest as the come spills out over her hand. Then she looks up at me, smiling. “Now what?”

“Well… you got off. I got off. Most people would call it good.” Her face makes me laugh. “What?”

“That’s it? That can’t be it.”

“Oh, Irina. That’s not it. Do you want to come again? I’m sure I can make it happen.”

“I want the whole thing.”

“It’s… not gonna feel that good.”

“All right. But I want to do it anyway.” She’s still holding on to me. I’m not quite as hard, but the moment she starts moving her hand up and down again, I feel the rush of blood.

I slip a finger between her open legs and play with her a little, making her close her eyes and moan. Without letting go of me, she puts her other hand on mine, stilling it. “Hold on.”

I let her calm down. Then, when she opens her eyes again, I tell her what to do next. “Sit up a little. And put me right at your opening.”

She bites her lip—which is kinda driving me wild—and then tries it, wincing the moment the tip of my cock touches her.

“It’s up to you, Irina. If you want to do it, you should just go fast. Put it there and sit down without stopping.”

She takes a deep breath and holds it, looking me straight in the eye. Then she sits a little, hisses and stops, then shakes her head and sits down all the way, moaning with clenched teeth.

But I’m inside her now. And my God, she feels so good. “Just stay there for a minute. Relax.”

“This is weird.”

“It gets better.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t. It’s just something you say.”

She laughs a little, then winces, because this makes me go deeper inside her. But she stays still. And then, after a little while of this, she relaxes.

“Now just stay right there.” I grip her legs and ease back a little. Starting to move underneath her. She’s got her palms flat on my shoulders, but the moment I start, she digs her nails into my skin.

She’s not gonna come like this. It cannot feel good. But there’s always a way to tease one out.

I slip my hand back between her legs and use my thumb to stimulate her. She immediately starts gasping, her head falling backwards and her back arching as I increase the pressure and rhythm.

I hold her in my lap with one hand around her hip. And then I move a little faster, pushing up inside her until she gasps. For a moment I can’t tell if it’s pain, or pleasure, or both.

But she goes stiff and then I know.

I wait until she’s done and then I lift her up, pull out, and put her hand back around my cock. She jerks just a few times and then I’m coming too.

She drops her head to my shoulder and we just sit there, breathing hard and replaying it all back in our heads. But after a little while I reach for the shower gel, squirt some into my hand, and push her back a little so I can wash her.

She watches me do this like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Then she starts soaping me up too. We get up after that, rinse off, and then we get out and wrap up in towels.

She stands in my closet looking at her clothes, thinking very hard about what she wants to wear. But then she turns to my side of the closet and pulls an old t-shirt off the hanger. “Can I?”

“It’s yours, Irina. It’s all yours.”

She smiles at that, maybe thinking I’m joking. But I’m not.

It has finally hit me. The whole purpose of this stupid fucking life. It’s… to share it with someone.



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