Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
My muscles flex, tightening and loosening over and over.
She reaches her door, peering at me over her shoulder. “Night, Crew.” She closes herself inside, and my dick is well aware of what she’s about to do.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I try to erase the images of her blushing and breathless.
Try and fail.
I lock myself in my own room, realizing as I do, the sound of the bolt turning never came from Davis’s door.
She left hers unlocked.
Just in case I change my mind?
Slow and cautious, I peel my shirt from my body, unwilling to allow even the sound of shifting cotton to break through the air, and press my back against the wall. The wall we share.
My eyes close, my ears perked and waiting to find out if it’s solid or hollow, if it is hollow, will I hear her?
Is she loud when she plays?
When she comes?
Yeah, I think she is… if she knows how to do things right.
She would be for me.
The thought has me gritting my teeth.
No, motherfucker. Don’t even fucking start.
The moment I think it, she does. Or at least that’s when her moans break through.
Soft and fucking sugary, just like her. Just like I imagine her body and the taste of her would be. My cock swells instantly, straining against my jeans, so I quietly flick them open, and dip my hand inside. My large hand wraps around myself, and I give my base a good squeeze, tugging once. Twice. Three times.
My head falls back with a silent knock, my lips parting as I picture hers doing the same thing. Her eyes closed in pleasure, tongue poking out to wet her dry, plump lips, teeth sinking into her fuller bottom one the way mine does.
Her moans grow into desperate little whimpers, and I pump myself harder, faster, my hips working with my hand, anxious for release.
I picture Davis in the center of her silky sheets, head bowed back into the pillows.
Her legs fall farther open, begging for more, her back arching, pleased when she gets exactly what she asks for. I would give her all she fucking wanted.
I groan, grinding my teeth, sweat building along the nape of my neck.
She reaches for me, and I dive down, clamping her lips the way they are meant to be claimed, owned.
Fucking devoured.
My cock swells, heat building low in my groin, and it doubles when her gasp pierces the air.
My head still pressed back, I roll along the wall until my body is spun completely, my forehead pressed to the cool, white-painted wood. My palm slaps against it, my fist forming as my muscles lock, my head falling back.
“Crew.”
My chest rumbles, low and deep.
She said my fucking name.
My body clenches, my orgasm on the brink. Right fucking there.
I press my ear to the wall.
“God, yes, Crew…”
And there it is.
Cum spills from my cock, and I jerk harder. Squeezing.
Sweets…
Davis
With pancakes stacked two times too high, and maple sausage ready to be draped in syrup, I knock on Crew’s door.
It’s his prize for delivering an epic ending… even if it was simply his voice on replay inside my head that sealed the deal. Sure, he’s unaware he’s the inspiration behind my masturbation, but still. Breakfast has been earned. Punishment for last night at the bar has also been put into effect, though, which is why there are no strawberries and whipped cream to be found.
I knock again. “If you don’t answer, I’m taking the bottom stack, and I know how much you love the overly buttered ones!”
No groan, no shout, nothing follows.
Hesitant, I turn the knob and peek inside, frowning when I’m met with a bed in disarray, but missing a giant male body.
I check the bathroom, and when it’s as empty as it was when I left it, I look outside.
Crew’s car is gone.
Huh.
With a shrug, I text Jess.
Me: I’ve got a pile of steaming pancakes I could use a hand eating. Come over for breakfast?
He replies as I lower into the seat.
Jess: Damn, I would, but I’m already on my way to the library. Study tonight?
Me: All my assignments are in. I don’t have to be on campus unless I want to be until finals in two weeks.
Jess: Nice! Call you later?
Me: bye
I look to the giant stack of yumminess, large enough to feed a small army, and dig in. I’m on the second pancake when my shoulders begin to sag, and the silence becomes too loud. Almost mocking.
It’s worse when I pause to play around on Instagram and come across Drew’s story. It’s a picture of him biting into a giant breakfast burrito, and in the background sits Layla and Willie. And next to him is Crew, a plate of his own before him.
They’re at Layla and Willie’s house.
A small smile curves my lips, happy Crew has found himself a group of friends he can trust. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t give them the time of day. He’s withdrawn like that.