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“You bet.”
We eat and never once touch on incendiary topics like her parents. I listen to her tell me in an excited voice about all the things she learned at the event.
Then when we part for the night, I know my world’s on the precipice the instant our lips press and our tongues entwine.
As I put Rylie in a Lyft and watch her go, I’m left with my raging fucking shaft. And not even thinking of all the South American drug lords at once will make it recede.
The house is quiet, my child asleep. After dismissing the sitter, I toss my clothes off and step in the shower. The ecstatic soldier stands at attention the entire time cold water flows down my body. I towel off and check myself in the mirror. My body has suffered from years of military training, long board surfing, and various accidents camping, hiking, and fishing. I sport a bunch of scars, some bring good memories and I run my finger along the nastiest.
Across the top of my right thigh, an ugly six-inch wound. The scar isn’t from a military battle, but a jagged rock slash I got rescuing a couple of hikers caught in a sudden rainstorm and flash flood on Maui. More tourists die from drowning in Hawaii, than from things like sharks, but drowning, for whatever reason, doesn’t seem as scary.
Imaging shark attacks, drownings, and nasty scars did nothing to soften my erection. If my dick could talk, he would be telling me how much he needs to slide into Rylie’s slick pussy. No argument from me.
I want her luscious body under me, over me, next to me, and wrapped up in my arms and legs. I need to bathe in the heat of her sweet nectar before I go completely crazy.
Once in bed, Rylie’s on my mind, the vision of her ass, her tits, her cute smile consuming my thoughts. I want her clit to feel the head of my cock. I can almost feel, taste with my core, rubbing myself in circles over her pleasure center until she screams.
I have to have her, possess her, dive into her and never come up for air.
