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“Wait… What are you doing?” she asks, and I slide my arms behind my head and get comfortable.
“I’m getting myself ready for the show.”
“I take it I’m the show?” she questions, and I nod.
“Take off your clothes, Carly,” I instruct, and she puts one defiant hand to her hip.
“And then what?”
“And then, once that beautiful pussy of yours is bare, I want you to crawl up my body and straddle my face.”
She digs her teeth into her bottom lip. But she also doesn’t say a word.
Instead, Carly follows my instructions, and piece by piece, she slowly removes her clothes. She even has the audacity to have some fun with it, dragging it out and flashing coy little looks my way.
It’s the best fucking version of foreplay I’ve ever witnessed.
By the time she’s completely undressed, and I’ve unzipped my dress pants and pulled my cock free, I stroke myself a few times to the sight of her.
“You’re a goddess,” I tell her as she crawls up my body. “I can’t wait to taste you.”
But the little minx has other plans.
When she’s face-to-face with my cock, she stops her momentum and takes me into her mouth before I can stop her. Fuuuuck me. That mouth of hers is divine, and the way she flicks her tongue around the tip spurs the best kinds of sensations to shoot up my spine.
“God, that’s good.” I groan, and she sucks me deeper into her mouth. “So good, Carly.”
She moves her mouth up and down my length several times before I decide that this isn’t enough for me. I need to taste her. Lick and eat at her.
So, with a few position readjustments, I make it so I can do just that.
But Carly is determined, and while she straddles my face, she leans forward and sucks me back into her mouth.
And somehow, some-fucking-way, we stay like that, sucking and eating at each other until we manage to bring each other to climax at the same goddamn time.
I don’t know what it is about Carly and me, but there’s yet to be anything that doesn’t work when it comes to us together. Not a single fucking thing, if I’m being honest.
“Thank everything you decided to play hooky from work again for a few hours,” Carly says once we’re both lying on our backs, catching our breath. “It just might be one of the best ideas you’ve ever had.” She giggles, and I grin over at her.
She isn’t wrong. And I have absolutely zero regrets.
Which should completely terrify me.
Her presence has flipped my normal, rational, predictable reality on its head.
I’m so into her that I’m skipping work, and our living situation is entirely temporary, but I can’t seem to find the need to care about any of that.
My mind is solely fixated on spending more time with her, in whatever way I can manage.
October 5th, Monday
Carly
This weekend was a total bust.
Every time Ryan and I tried to meet up on the down-low, Sal and Stella found unintentional ways to deter us.
On Saturday, I tried to get up early and surprise Ryan at the gym, but when my alarm went off at five, the damn Bee Gees were already providing the soundtrack of the morning, and when I slid out of bed and reached the kitchen, I found my mom busy making homemade muffins.
She never gets up that early, but for some reason, that day, Stella was up and at ’em with more energy than should be physically possible for someone her age.
And even though every day she’s getting more range of motion and movement without discomfort, I couldn’t exactly leave her to her own cooking devices. I also had zero reason to leave the house at five in the morning.
That evening, I was determined to get my Ryan fix, but when he texted that Sal had called it an early night, Stella was wide awake and doing a live video on her stupid TikTok.
Then on Sunday, Sal had demanded Ryan take him golfing, and that threw another wrench in any top-secret plans we could’ve made.
I’m starting to find that Sal and Stella are inadvertently becoming the worst cockblockers on the planet.
And now, it’s been almost three days since I’ve seen Ryan’s penis, and I’m about to explode from sexual frustration. Which is crazy—but true. Somehow, over the past few weeks, all this sneaky hot sex we’ve been having has forced my body to expect it to happen all the time.
“Sal! Carly! Let’s eat our lunch on the back porch!” my mom calls from the kitchen, and I try like hell to disengage myself from the plans.
“Hey, Mom, I think I’ll let you and Sal enjoy a quiet lunch to yourselves today,” I offer as I step into the kitchen to find Sal sitting down in one of the chairs, his eyes pointedly fixated on my mom’s ass while she prepares her homemade chicken salad.
