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I murmured, though no words but a contented sound like a cat on his master’s lap.

He kissed me on the cheek and laid himself down beside me. I felt his member stiffen as it brushed against the small of my back.

I turned over to face him. My hero was gazing down at me through his swollen eye. His swollen lip curled to offer me a smile. I kissed his lips softly. “Does it hurt?” I asked.

He shook his head. “My body is so numb; I can hardly feel a thing.”

I ran my hand over his chiseled chest down to his crotch and took his thick throbbing member in my hand. I fluttered my eyelashes and said, “Looks like it’s not your entire body that’s numb.”

He chuckled. I kissed him on his stubbled jaw.

“A quickie before Lincoln gets back?” I suggested.

“You’re insatiable,” he said. “Maybe we should, instead...”

He didn’t finish his thought. I had already slid down the length of his body. My tongue now ran thirstily up and down his long shaft. I wrapped my lips around the tip, pressed, and plunged, taking as much of him as I could before slowly pulling back and letting my tongue linger to play on the rim of his head.

“Oh, that feels amazing,” he said.

I looked up the length of his body and saw his head arched back, eyes closed and a satisfied smile on his face. I found the spot where I wanted to plant a kiss—just under the bump beside his eye. I pulled myself up, over the length of his body, feeling his stiff cock press first against my chin, then my chest, then between my breast down my belly to my hips then my crotch.

I planted small kisses around the bump beside his eye. I planted another kiss on his forehead then slid down to nestle my head between his shoulder and jaw. We lay there not saying a word, listening to Lincoln in the shower butcher a melody of Frank Sinatra classics with approximate melodies and improvised lyrics.

“I’m so glad we kissed and made up,” I said.

Ryder murmured his agreement.

“We’ll have to fight more often, if only for the make-up sex,” I said. “But we can’t let the fight linger for so long, can we?”

“I was such a fool,” he said, “a bitter and angry fool.”

“Shh. That’s all in the past.”

He kissed the top of my head. “No, I’m still a fool. But now, I’m a calm and contented fool.”

I closed my eyes, held his stiff member delicately in my hand, and replayed every touch and kiss and caress I had been lavished with these recent days. My hips rocked and gyrated in sync with my reverie while Ryder rubbed the back of my neck and brushed my hair with light strokes.

I took his fondling hands with me into my dreams. In an instant, I was back in the stables being whipped and ridden. In a blink, I was at the creek, taken in the water, taken on the bank, taken from the front, taken from behind.

When I awoke, my pussy was wet and grinding against Ryder’s long hard shaft. Lincoln lay next to me. His arm was wrapped tight around my waist and his chin rested on my head. I felt the rise and fall of his chest which married with the phantom thrusts of my dreams.

I felt a cool draught come over me and stole a peek at the window. It had been left ajar, and the curtains rustled against the sill. The evening had come and gone. It was now pitch black outside, still and peaceful.

I closed my eyes and was lying on top of Wyatt’s truck. His hands were on me, pulling my blouse open to free my heaving breasts which he took thirstily in his mouth. I spread my legs and Samuel mounted me. He thrusted his hard cock into me. I arched my back to take him deeper and deeper still. He turned me onto my side, and then it was Teddy who possessed me. His fingers stroked my pussy as his manhood teased my labia before plunging its length into my depth.

I heard a tap, tap, distant at first then louder and more insistent. I awoke wet and startled, jerking to attention. The sudden movement stirred both Lincoln and Ryder, though they only mumbled and went back to sleep.

I was further disoriented by the light. Rays of sun spilled in through the small gaps in the curtains. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, realized it must have been midday and realized the tap-tap was not coming from my dreams but rather from outside the window.

I sat still and listened.

It wasn’t a tap, but a knock. And it wasn’t at the window but from next door—coming from my house.

I slipped out of bed—to the murmured objections of my sleeping heroes—and went to the window. From there, I gazed across the lawn to my home and saw Aiden pacing back and forth at the front door.


Tags: Nicole Casey Seven Ways to Sin Fantasy