“Actually, I didn’t call the landlord about it.”
“He’ll have to do something, Violet. You can’t go without air on the twentieth floor.”
“That’s the thing,” I say as I follow him into the house. “I don’t think I want to stay there for the summer.”
He turns around, his eyes the kind of wide associated with surprise and hope. “Is this you moving in with me?”
I nod, and his grin lights up my world.
“I love being here.”
“Yeah?” He’s still smiling as he pulls me in for a kiss.
“Of course.” His love is the best gift, filling my heart, giving breath to a future I can’t wait to start living. “My favorite thing in the world is here.”
“Me?”
“You.”ALEX“Violet, are you ready to go? We need to get to the airport.” I check the bedroom. She’s nowhere to be found. I could've sworn she said she was getting her bags together. This is unusual—where there’s Violet, there is rarely silence. “Violet?”
“Whatcha doin’?” Violet scares the crap out of me as she comes out of the guest bedroom we’ve turned into her “private space,” which she uses to store her unpacked boxes.
“Trying to find you. Are you ready?” I look her up and down.
She’s definitely not ready to go. She’s wearing underpants and a tank top with no bra. We need to leave in the next fifteen minutes so we can make our flight. She’s not wearing a bra.
She covers her chest with one of the books she’s holding. It only hides one of her boobs. She does the same thing with her other hand, shielding her straining, erect nipple from my greedy eyes. The damage is already done. I’ve seen them. The monster in my pants has awakened.
“See what you’ve done.” I motion to my crotch.
“I’m sure we can sort it out.”
Violet lowers the books, taunting me. Boobs are the best thing ever created. My dick is in agreement. He punches at my fly, trying to strong-arm his way out of my pants and get to Violet’s boobs—and possibly between her thighs since that’s his favorite place to hang out.
“We don’t have time, Violet.”
She sways her way over and rubs against me. I can feel her nipples through the thin fabric of both our shirts, which exacerbates the swelling in my pants. I can’t deal with hard-on ache for the next three hours.
“I’ll solve your problem on the way to the airport; as long as you can multitask.” She pats my dick through my pants.
Lust barrels its way into my brain. I’m positive I heard an allusion to road head.
“What can I do to help?”
“I guess you can hold my boobs for me.” She looks pointedly at her chest.
I’m already cupping them.
I give them a squeeze and try for a kiss. This leads to some over-the-clothes cock-to-pussy friction until my phone alarm goes off; we have five minutes to get in the car and go, or we’ll miss our flight. We pry ourselves off each other. Violet throws on a pair of yoga pant things, and I load the car. I surreptitiously check my carry-on bag one last time to make sure the Tiffany’s box is still in the front pocket.
Once we’re on the road, Violet fiddles with the radio, ducks under her seatbelt, and follows through with her problem-solving strategy. I recline the seat to give her more room to do her thing. She’s considerate enough to put her hair in a ponytail so I can see what she’s doing while she’s doing it.
I’ll admit it’s rather difficult to concentrate on driving while Violet’s lips are wrapped around my cock. I’m willing to perfect the art of multitasking should she decide she wants to do it again. It’s not until I’m groaning and coming that I realize I’m going almost a hundred miles an hour. We make it to the airport in record time. I’m lucky to evade a speeding ticket and an indecent exposure charge.
The flight from Chicago to Toronto is short, and I’m super relaxed, thanks to Violet and her mouth. We pick up the rental car once we land and leave the city, driving north—away from skyscrapers and into the dense forest and rocky landscapes.
“Where, exactly, are we going again?” Violet asks as I turn off the highway onto less traveled roads.
“Lake Muskoka.” Up until now, I’ve kept the details vague. “We’re only about a half hour away.”
“Is there indoor plumbing? I’m not going to have to pee in a bush or one of those outhouse things, am I? My mother sent me to Girl Scout camp as a kid. There were spiders in the bathroom!” She shudders and pulls her knees to her chest as if reliving the memory.
I laugh. “There’s indoor plumbing. You don’t need to worry about peeing on spiders.”
She grumbles something about it not being funny as she searches in her bag. Producing a lip balm, she slathers it on liberally, making them glisten. It reminds me of what they look like when she pops off my dick. Dammit. I need to settle down. I’m way too excited for this vacation.