Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I knew, for example, that she enjoyed a horseshoe-shaped stroke over the top of her clit, but that direct stimulation of the hard little points beneath the hood was more torture than pleasurable. The latter was useful information during a play session, but the former was what I was going for now. She practically purred, and I lost myself in the steady, metronome arc I’d set up.
Lost myself a little too much; while I focused on and savored her grinding her cunt onto my face with increasing urgency, I missed the slight shift of her weight onto my chest. Her hands sliding down.
When she took the head of my cock into her mouth, my hips bucked with surprise. She applied sucking pressure that was truly masterful, while I continued stroking, careful not to accidentally punch her in the face.
That would have ended things quickly, disastrously, and probably, in hindsight, hilariously.
But I wanted to enjoy her, and I wanted her to enjoy this. Nothing was planned, this wasn’t a momentous occasion where perfect sex was required so as to stave off some kind of anti-climactic—literally and figuratively—disappointment. At least, it wasn’t, on paper; every time we fucked, it felt… important.
Charlotte didn’t want our entire connection to be sexual. I didn’t, either, but there was no denying that we were perfect partners in that area, and sex would always be a crucial component for us. I never wanted to stop being with her like this. I would never get tired of her, whether we were engaging in a long roleplay session with toys and paddles and ropes or a spur-of-the-moment sixty-nine like the one we were in now.
I would never have enough of her.
She moaned around the head of my cock and her clit drew back as if trying to avoid my touch before her thighs trembled against my cheeks. The slick, creamy sound of her clutching pussy was the final trigger; my hips jerked up hard, driving my cock to the back of her throat as I pumped spurt after spurt of cum into her mouth.
She gulped down nearly every drop; when she sat up and moved off me, a pearly bead rolled down her chin and she flicked it away with her fingertip.
“There,” she said breathless, grinning at me with her shirt still banding her waist. “Wasn’t that so much better than masturbating?
CHAPTER TEN
(Charlotte)
One of my favorite things about California was how on the ground it was. Sure, there were skyscrapers in L.A., but I never had to deal with those buildings. They were fine. I was fine with them.
New York was an entirely different story. I was not fine with the buildings, specifically because I had to deal with them. I woke up in the air, briefly touched down for our commute, then it was right back up for the workday. My therapist wasn’t even on the ground floor, though she was, thankfully, in a much shorter building. I didn’t even have to take an elevator.
“I spend most of my life in the sky, now,” I’d mentioned at the appointment I’d left, and she’d advised me not to minimize that change. Our bodies noticed things like suddenly living a thousand feet above the ground, and that could cause emotional stress we didn’t expect.
Maybe, I’d run back to California not out of a fear of commitment, but a deep, primal terror at being yanked off the ground. My brain probably thought I’d been swooped up by a prehistoric condor. That’s not exactly what she’d said, but I vibed with it.
I couldn’t wait to tell Matt this momentous breakthrough that I would use to ignore my actual issues, but when I got off the elevator into the apartment, I skidded to a stop.
“Uh...” I walked slowly through an entryway crammed with big pink and purple and blue balloons. Had I gotten off on the wrong floor? That shouldn’t have been possible, with the security code, but clearly, I’d intruded on someone’s gender reveal party. “Hello? I think I got off on the wrong floor.”
“You didn’t,” Matt called back as I carefully made my way under a balloon arch, along a path outlined with winding pink tulle and scattered wrapped taffy pieces.
And glitter. So much glitter.
“Are you having a birthday party for a unicorn?” I asked, looking around for him.
“It’s for you.” He stood on the huge, curving, suspended nightmare staircase a floor above me. The magical candy and balloon trail led to the foot of the stairs, but he instructed, “Come up in the elevator.”
Usually, a big, showy surprise from Matt would have filled me with giddy anticipation. This one seemed to involve the stairs, though, so I chose suspicion, all the way.
The elevator opened, revealing that the cotton candy fantasy decor didn’t end at the bottom of the stairs. It stretched all the way to our bedroom door. Puffy, pastel clouds seeded with twinkling lights hung high above. “Matt... this must have taken all day.”