Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
And that’s what I want. Her thriving. Creating. Delving into her passion. Choosing to come to me when she’s finished because she wants to. Not because she’s hiding.
“Done!” she announces, slamming her laptop shut with a grin. She spins to face me. “Sent it off to the client, and they love it!”
I grin, watching her tits bounce as she bubbles in her seat. “That’s my girl,” I say, watching my praise hit her like it always does—with a visible shiver and a blush crossing her cheeks.
She bites her lip. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Oh, yeah?”
She pauses. “But…it might be stupid.”
“Try me.”
She disappears upstairs and comes back holding something in her closed fist. When she opens her palm, I see it.
Charles.
The vibrator she’s been carrying around like a security blanket since long before we met. Her mechanical boyfriend that gave her pleasure but never satisfaction.
“I think it’s time,” she says.
“Time for what?”
“A funeral.”
I stare at her, then burst out laughing. A real, deep laugh that rumbles out of my chest. “You want us to have a funeral for your vibrator?”
“A retirement ceremony,” she says, trying to keep a straight face. “He worked faithfully for years. But he’s no longer needed and deserves a proper send-off.”
I nod. “It’s only fair.”
Five minutes later, we’re standing in the backyard under the stars. Evie has wrapped Charles in a dishtowel—his “burial shroud” as she calls it—and we’ve dug a small hole by the shed. Evie’s barefoot in the grass, wearing my T-shirt and nothing else, aside from a red thong. I stand beside her with my arms crossed, trying not to grin.
“We are gathered here today,” Evie begins, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter, “to honor Charles. A…vibrator of great distinction. A companion of unwavering reliability.”
“He never let you down,” I add.
“He never let me down,” she agrees, nodding solemnly. “Through lonely Friday nights and anxious Sunday mornings, Charles was there. He never judged. Never asked questions. He just…”
Evie makes a soft buzzing sound with her lips, and I lose it, laughing so hard my stomach hurts.
“But,” she continues, composing herself, “Charles had his limitations.” She looks at me. “He couldn’t hold me after. Couldn’t calm me down. And couldn’t pin my arms above my head and tell me I’m a good girl.”
“You’re damn right.” I smirk.
Looking at me, her eyes shine with humor and something deeper. Something permanent that goes straight into my chest. “I found someone better. Someone who made that hollow feeling go away.”
I step closer and wrap my arms around her, holding her from behind. She leans back into me, and I can feel her heartbeat, steady and calm. Content.
“Charles,” she says, lowering him into the hole, “you’re retired. Thank you for your service, but I’ve got the real thing now.”
With her bare foot, she pushes the dirt over him. When she turns around and looks at me, she’s beaming.
“So how do you feel?” I ask.
“Free,” she says, tugging on my shirt to bring me down to her. “Now take me inside.”
“My pleasure.” I grin, scooping her up into my arms. She giggles as I carry her through the back door, but by the time we reach the stairs, she’s not laughing anymore. Her mouth is on my neck, nibbling gently against my skin, her hips already grinding against the hardness forming between my legs.
I take the stairs two at a time.
Barging into the bedroom, I set her down and stare at her beauty. She looks back at me with those beautiful eyes that couldn’t even hold my gaze when we first met. Now they’re locked on mine, unblinking.
She’s mine.
“This is how it all started,” she says. “A Friday night. Me in bed.”
“Only this time you’re not alone.”
I pull my shirt off and toss it aside. She sits up, reaching for my belt. Like two hungry animals, we undress each other. It feels wonderful. Two people choosing each other with full knowledge of who the other is.
Pressing her back down, I kiss her neck and her collarbone, then find each of her breasts and suck her nipples between my lips, causing her to gasp. As I trail my kisses down her belly, she threads her fingers through my hair and whispers, “Yes, Daddy.”
The word wrecks me, causing my cock to pulse and throb as I groan against her soft skin.
I spread her thighs and taste her slowly, savoring her in a way I couldn’t that first night. Her back arches off the bed, and her moans fill the room, not muffled by a hand or silenced by shame. Loud and unapologetic.
“That’s it, baby girl,” I murmur into her. “Let me hear it.”
It happens fast. She comes on my tongue, her thighs clamping down around my head, her fists grabbing the sheets the same way she told me she would when she was alone in bed, wishing someone was there to fully fulfill her.