“Coat your pussy in me,” he commands.
I do as he says and spread his hot cum all over my burning sex. It’s so dirty and erotic. The lewd obscene nature of it really does something for me and I cum all over my hand, mixing our juices like they’re supposed to be. Like they were made to be.
Emmett watches with those dark intense eyes as I cum hard. I’m jerking around and making whimpering whines as the blissful heat consumes me.
He’s loving every second of it.
So am I.
“Good,” he says when my convulsions turn to quick shocks. The intensity running through my veins passes and I’m able to breathe again. Haggard choppy breaths, but at least I’m getting some oxygen in my lungs.
I feel his seed on me like it’s laid ownership on my body. I like the feeling. It feels like I’m his. Like he owns me completely.
“I’m coming back for that cunt tonight,” he says as he takes his towel and continues drying his beautiful body off. “It’s Friday and I have a hell of a weekend planned for us.”
The hair on the back of my neck rises to full attention as I imagine what erotic wonders that might entail.
It’s going to be torture having to wait the whole day to find out.
Chapter Seven
Lindsay
* * *
I get lost in the curve of Emmett’s jawline as I drag the charcoal pencil along the rough sketching paper. I’m absorbed in the flow of the dark lines, engrossed in the process. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten back to the basics—pen and paper.
It feels nice. It feels like slipping into your once favorite pajamas that got lost in the back of the closet for years. It feels right.
Drawing cute animals on the iPad is fun, but it doesn’t really feel like art anymore. More like a production line. I’ve missed this.
The feel of the pencil digging into the side of my finger, black fingertips, getting lost in the flow. It’s all coming back to me now.
The afternoon flies by as I focus intensely on his stomach, trying to get the curve of his abs just right. A picture by the greatest artist in the world wouldn’t do this man’s stomach justice, but I work on it nonetheless, remembering the feel, the look, the way it made me tremble to drag my hands along it.
I wipe the hair off my forehead with the back of my hand as I lean back and look at the sketch. It’s Emmett all right. He’s got that intense sexy look in his eyes as he stares at me from within the paper. Even charcoal Emmett looks like he wants to climb out of the paper and fuck me.
I drew him how I always imagine him, in the nude. His long cock is hanging down, looking as tempting in charcoal as it does in the flesh.
The warm tingling between my legs intensifies, knowing it’s all his. He marked it this morning and is coming to claim it tonight. I shiver from thinking about it.
I glance at the clock, anxious for him to return.
He’ll be here in about twenty minutes or so. Anticipation is building within every second that passes.
I had a hell of a day preparing for him.
A day that would make Anna proud.
I’m fully out of my comfort zone now and there’s no going back.
After Emmett left, I decided to get my life in order. I went to the mall and bought a bunch of new clothes. Nice stylish clothes that actually fit.
I was shy at first, but then amazed at how I looked in them. I looked good.
After my credit card took a beating, I got my hair done. Colored, cut, and styled. I was on a roll and continued into the nail salon to get a manicure. My nails have never been so flashy. I like it.
I even bought some makeup and the helpful guy at the store showed me how to put it on to highlight my features. I didn’t even know I had features. But here they are all highlighted up and ready for Emmett to get home.
My picture is finished and I hang it on my wall where I can look at my sexy roommate whenever I want.
Ten minutes…
I head over to my dresser with my heart pounding and take a whiff of the new perfume I bought. I place a dab on my neck and wrists, hoping that it drives Emmett wild.
“Look at you,” I whisper when I see a very unfamiliar reflection looking back at me. “Getting out there. Being an adult.”
I even cleaned up my room and brought my old clothes to donate to the thrift store. The lady wasn’t too enthused about the collection and I can’t blame her for that. Does anyone really want to wear an oversized t-shirt with Sponge Bob’s huge smiling face on it? I can picture it still hanging in the store ten years from now, discounted to ten cents, but still not sold.