My dick strains toward her.
She wraps her soft hand around it, a little roughly, which only makes me harder.
“You know I was,” I manage through my teeth. “You wanted me to be.”
“Maybe a little,” she agrees. Then she runs her tongue up the side of my shaft before wrapping those perfect red lips around the head, running her tongue around it.
Holy shit. I’m not going to last. I’m going to be embarrassingly fast, and she’ll tell her friends, and they’ll tell my friends, and I’ll never hear the end of it.
I cradle the back of her head in my hand, her silky dark hair spilling through my fingers, and she glances up at me, the tip of my dick still in her mouth, and watches me as she takes me in deeper. And I know with the clarity usually reserved for the moments before death that this is the best thing I’ve ever seen. Probably the best thing I will ever see.
“Jesus, Nora,” I say, my voice hoarse. “That feels so good.”
She starts up a rhythm, taking me in and out, pausing every now and then to play with me with her tongue.
I start to count by nines in my head. Nine. Eighteen. Twenty-seven. Thirty-six. Forty-five…
But it doesn’t get me very far, because I’m standing in my living room, and the most alluring woman in the world is sucking me off. Every part of me is in ecstasy.
I feel it happening. My lower back is tingling, and the pleasure is overpowering, so I grip her hair slightly, wanting to get her attention. “I’m going to come. I know what you said, but you don’t have to. I?—”
She sucks stronger, and all my control is lost. I come in her mouth, and she swallows my release without hesitation.
“You were saying?” she asks, grinning up at me.
I can only shake my head and reach down to help her up before pulling up my shorts.
Wrapping an arm around her, I say, “I should offer to call disagreeable strangers more often.”
Laughing, she leads the way into the kitchen.
“Wait, don’t you want me to make you?—”
“Oh, you will. Later.” She winks and then grabs a couple of ginger beers out of the fridge.
Shit, I should have thought of that. The least you can do when a beautiful woman sucks you down is provide her with a beverage.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should haveoffered.”
She smiles as she opens one of the bottles and hands it to me. “I’m happy to help myself.” She opens the second bottle for herself and says, “Speaking about disagreeable strangers, what do you say we look up people in your yearbook and reminisce about all the assholes we went to school with? We can look them up on social media.”
My heart beats faster, my mind fixing on the old, yellowed note tucked between the pages of our senior yearbook.
The proof.
Leave it to me to hold on to a letter a woman wrote under duress.
“No, that’s okay,” I say quickly, wrapping an arm around her to keep her in the kitchen. “I kept in touch with everyone I wanted to keep in touch with.”
“Who?”
“Kenji, and now you.”
She smiles as she takes a swig of her ginger beer. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
I feel my brows knit closer together. “Why not?”
“I didn’t think you liked me.”
