15
posey
“This was the best fuckin’ almost two weeks of my life.”
To say I’m shocked by Duke’s words is an understatement. “Mine too.” And I’ve had a pretty fantastic life.
“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”
He sure did.
I wonder what other thoughts he’s keeping locked up inside; things I’ll never know about once he’s gone, basking in the fact that he’s not gone yet.
With strong arms around my waist, he’s one part hugging me, one part motorboating my boobs in his face, cannot tell which. Not that it matters. It feels incredible being in his embrace.
His hard dick presses into my ass cheeks—or it tries to, at least.
Mmm…
Ugh, it’s been ages since I’ve had sex. And being half naked with this big, glorious beast has me wanting to peel the rest of his clothes off.
I raise myself high enough so I can feel around for the fly of his jeans, then unbutton them as difficult as the task is given my position.
I roll off to finish.
Zipper whirs down.
Duke wastes no time kicking the denim to the ground, lying there in nothing but a pair of tight, black compression shorts that leave me wanting to sit back and stare.
Oh jeez.
His thighs are as thick as tree trucks, I swear, hard as rocks, too, and he’s not even flexing.
“Um, you’re not gonna make me lie here like this, are you? You gonna join me?”
He plucks at the waistband of my leggings.
Yes.
Okay then.
I lie down, letting him do the honors so I can watch his face as he removes my bottoms.
“How did I know your panties would be white?”
I almost gag at the word panties; it’s as bad as moist, and luscious, three of my least favorite words. Blech.
“Matches the bra.”
He runs a hand over the front of my underwear, fingers plucking at the tiny bow.
Sliding his hand all the way between my legs, he cups my pussy. His giant palm is warm, sending heat straight to my core.
His thumb hooks the pretty lace trim, then sneaks beneath it and rubs slowly.
My legs spread.
Head tilts back on his pillow.