I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it. The tension between us was palpable. And it didn’t help that I knew what she tasted like. What she felt like against my hands. Ever since the little talk we’d had, I’d been kicking myself. Why the fuck had I told her that hooking up was a bad idea? We both wanted it. It was evident in the way she reacted to me. Sometimes she pressed into me and sometimes she held my gaze. And always, her eyes fell to my lips.
Always.
I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking her. Bending her over the couch and sliding our work off the table so I could drench it in her. Being so close to her and working with her was fucking me up. I could smell her hair. It would be nothing to reach out and tuck a strand of it behind her ear. If she turned to look at me, I felt her breath pulsing against my lips. If she moved to stand up, I felt her hip brush against my shoulder. Small touches that sent electric jolts of lightning down my spine.
Some of it even left me short of breath.
“What if we took this route?” Michelle asked.
She rose up from her chair and reached clear across the table as her shirt stretched up her back. The map easily covered the entire table, and she was trying to reach the fucking corner of the map. Her shorts crept up her thighs. Her arm stretched so far I could see the fabric of her shirt mold to her breast. I watched her raise her knee up and plant it onto the table, giving me the best shot of that rotund ass of hers.
I raked my hands through my hair and quickly stood.
“Why don’t we finish this tomorrow?” I asked.
She looked back at me with a shocked stare as her lips parted.
“We’re almost done. Are you sure?” Michelle asked.
Fuck me. That innocent stare. That truly confused look. She had no idea what she was doing. Sprawling herself out over that table and hiking her leg up. Wearing those clothes that molded to her curves and teasing me with the shadowed slope of her ass. It would’ve been nothing to rip my cock out and take her. To pull her shorts and panties down and slide into her warmth. Everything in me was heightened. Her scent enveloped me. That hot, salty scent of a woman that drove me absolutely wild.
“I’m sure,” I said, as I stepped back from the table. “I need a shower.”
“Oh. Okay. Then we’ll finish it up in the morning. Breakfast is on me this time,” she said.
She slid her body from the table as I bit down onto my lower lip. I didn’t bother arguing with her. I felt my cock soaking the boxers underneath my pants. I stalked down the hallway and slammed into my bathroom, literally pulling at locks of my hair.
I shut the door and stripped myself of my clothes as my aching cock hung thickly between my legs.
I turned on the shower as cold as I could stand it and got in. But it did nothing to ca
lm my erection. The only thing it served to do was make me cold. Which only made me ache for release more. I reached down and turned on the hot water, ratcheting it up until it almost scalded my skin. I hissed as my hand wrapped around my thick dick as precum fell in thin streams to the floor of the shower.
“Michelle,” I said with a whisper. “Suck that cock.”
I closed my eyes and imagined those pouty lips around my shaft. Sucking it. Drinking me down. Hollowing those cheeks out for my viewing pleasure. I conjured the softness of her hair in the palm of my hand. How thick her hair had been twisted up in my fingers during that kiss. I stroked my cock faster as I imagined her head bobbing, my hand guiding her along my cock. Her tongue swirled. Raked along the throbbing vein underneath. I pressed my arm against the wall and leaned my forehead into my skin, feeling my toes already beginning to curl.
For days I’d put it off. For days I’d willed my cock to stay at bay.
But I couldn’t handle it any longer. My body physically hurt.
I saw her bent over the couch, her pussy swallowing my cock whole. Streaking it with her arousal as her juices coated me. I saw her pinned to the wall, helpless against my attack as I buried myself in her. Those moans when she ate. I heard the echo off the corners of my mind.
How sweet my name would sound falling off her lips.
I bucked into my hand. I felt my cock throbbing in my palm. I took her every which way in my mind. In my lap. On the balcony. In the back of that rental car. I saw her in the shower, dripping with hot water as her mahogany tendrils dropped down her back. I tasted her saltiness on my tongue as I devoured her pussy, watching her glorious curves jiggle for me. Oh, how those tits would bounce. I’d fuck her until she was nothing but a wave of desire crumbling against my arms.
“Michelle. Fuck. Yes. So tight for me. I’ve wanted that pussy. Give it to me. Squeeze me, Michelle. Holy—fucking—shit—”
My toes curled and my legs locked as my cock shot cum at blinding speeds. My body shook. My hand tightened around my girth. The shower spun and the room tilted as I stumbled. My shoulder caught the wall and my feet slid out from underneath me. I went tumbling to the floor as my cock continued to spew cum that had built up for days onto the shower floor. I crumbled to all fours, my head hanging as hot water sprayed over my body.
The sheer force of my orgasm hurt.
But the only face in my mind was hers.
That beautiful smile and those innocent eyes.
I slept soundly that night, but not for lack of dreaming about her. She ran rampant in my mind, but it wasn’t just sex. I saw us holding hands and walking around town. I saw us at my vineyard as I plucked a grape from the vine and fed it to her. I saw my arms wrapped around her as we stood on my private balcony, overlooking the decadent expanse of Napa Valley.