Page 103 of Nuts

A few strokes later, and the combination of my previous sexual frustration, her magical pussy, and my ridiculous decision to watch caught up with me.

I was ten minutes into sex, and I was on the verge of a monstrous orgasm.

“Are you going to come?” she asked. “I want it in my mouth.”

I couldn’t make it one more stroke. I pulled out and squeezed my cock in my fist, hoping I could buy another few seconds of time.

Before she could turn around, I exploded.

Cum splattered all over her back of her new shirt, into her perfect hair, and onto the back cushion of the new couch.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Did you just come all over me, and the couch?”

I widened my eyes, twisted my mouth to the side, and shrugged. “Sure looks like it.”

“That means you were super excited, right?”

I raised both eyebrows and let out a laugh. “Something like that.”

“That’s awesome,” she said.

I should have felt embarrassed, but oddly, I didn’t. I looked at the cum-soaked couch, and then at Joey. She provided me a degree of comfort I’d never really known. The change was comforting for many reasons, primarily because I could see myself actually making it a lifetime with her without any effort at all.

“You’re right. It is awesome.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Joey

The driveway that led to the two-story house was lined with various shrubs and decorative flowers. The yard was green and lush, unlike the homes in the city where we lived. The large lawn was filled with trees, most of which I didn’t recognize, but there were a few I did.

The orange trees were difficult to miss.

“Those are oranges, right?”

He glanced at the trees on my left and grinned. “Yep.”

A stone birdbath in the center of the yard seemed to be a popular place for the neighborhood’s birds. It was filled with them, each of which was singing the praises of having a place to bathe in where there was normally very little water.

I climbed off the motorcycle and pointed to it. “I’m surprised that doesn’t dry up.”

“Gets filled almost every day,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“So, who lives here?”

“Come on,” he said. “You’re getting ready to find out.”

We walked to the front porch, and instead of knocking, he poked a key in the lock. After turning it, he pushed the door open.

“Just me, Karen,” he shouted.

A voice from the rear of the home responded. “Good morning, Percy.”

We stepped inside. A large living room on the right was filled with antique furniture. In a chair beside the window, an adorable older woman sat. She was dressed like she was preparing to go to church. Her gray hair was curled, and her hands rested in her lap.