“I told you I was going to make you cry,” he justifies, wiping my tears with the pads of his thumb before kissing my cheeks as I huff in agreement.
“I love you, Carter,” I manage and he kisses me passionately, responding without a single word. I can feel the intensity, taste his love, as our tongues intertwine with a vengeance, each of us wishing we could take it further, but I won’t allow it.
We’re so close from his goal, and I won’t be the reason he fails. That level of betrayal is unforgivable and I won’t cross him in that way. I may not have been completely honest, but I will and until then I still have limits on what I’m willing to do.
“I love you more,” he smirks.
“It’s a good thing we love each other. It’ll make the sex worth the wait,” I glance up at him and can tell he agrees from the sparkle in his eye.
Carter
Six weeks to go…
I stand in my kitchen and mark off the big square on the calendar I purchased. The thing takes up half the wall, but I don’t care. I need a very visual reminder that I don’t have much longer. That the end is near. The light at the end of the tunnel does, in fact, exist.
Because this has been one of the hardest fucking weeks of my life. I think I’m losing my mind. The lack of sex has finally gotten to me. Everyone warned me about it. It’s not right, they said. It’s not healthy, they warned. A young and virile man like me should be getting pussy every night of the week. You’ll live to regret it, some cautioned.
I’m starting to believe it. I think I’m on a downward spiral to crazytown. Just the mere thought of Ashley and her rocking body is driving me out of my mind. I’m hard twenty-four seven. That can’t be good, can it? I’m starting to worry that the lack of blood to anywhere else in my body but my cock might have some long-term effects.
Ashley just laughs when I tell her this. She thinks I’m making a bigger deal of it than it is.
But I know better. And I know she knows better too. I can see it in her eyes when she thinks I’m not looking. It’s making her crazy too. She’s doing her best not to tempt me, but if just the thought of her has me hornier than a pubescent boy, the sight of her is a million times worse. Six weeks. I can do this. Six weeks.
Five weeks to go…
I walk into my bathroom in a sleepy haze. And instantly regret it. Fucking hell.
There’s Ashley in my shower, cleaning up after I just went down on her for what feels like the hundredth time in two weeks. Not that I’m complaining. I’m not going to let my woman suffer just because I have to. No, I pleasure her as much as she wants, and then some. Even if my cock does feel like it might fall off from neglect and lack of use.
I can just read the epitaph now.
Here lies Carter Blaine. Gone too soon. He died a virgin, after withering away from lack of orgasms.
Wouldn’t Lola feel like a real bitch then? I laugh bitterly. Probably not. She’d probably just be glad to not have to pay me my two billion dollars.
“Carter, you okay, baby?” Ashley’s voice startles me from my sadistic fantasy. I almost wish it hadn’t, because now my focus is back on her and her totally fuckable body standing naked in my bathroom, her eyes wide with concern. But I barely notice her eyes. All I see are two gorgeous tits, nipples fully erect as she stares at my equally erect cock, now practically dripping with cum. I swear, I’m probably going to revert to adolescence here soon and start having wet dreams if I don’t get off soon.
I feel my cock twitch as I imagining coming all over her tits. With a sound that borders on being a little unhinged, I leave the bathroom and Ashley’s gorgeous tits. Five weeks. I can do this. Five weeks.
Four weeks to go…
I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
“Carter? Baby? Are you
okay?” Ashley’s concerned voice brings me back to reality.
“It’s okay,” I mumble, rolling over in the bed and burying my head under my pillow. I love having her in my bed, but it’s a slow form of torture. Forget waterboarding. Those fuckers have no idea. Just stick them in bed with a woman as hot as my girl, then tell them they can’t do anything about it. That’s the way to punish someone.
God, that dream. I swear I thought it was real. It felt so real. In it, I was fucking Ashley. Hard. Rough. Bareback. Right in her sweet, tight little pussy. It was heaven. It was everything.
And then I fucking woke up.
Four weeks. Then she’s all mine. I can do this. Four weeks.
Three weeks to go…
“Carter, baby,” Ashley says, her sweet voice making me ache for her. That’s all it takes anymore. The end is so near I can practically taste it. Or is that the taste of her juices still lingering on my lips? I don’t know anymore. I’m half mad at this point. I look up at the giant wall calendar, just to make sure more time hasn’t passed and I’ve missed it. But nope. Still three weeks to go.