Page 60 of Baby Girl

He slowly walked toward me and unbuttoned his pants. He reached down and pulled his half-hard cock from his pants. He straddled my face with his thighs on either side and put his hands on his hips.

“Put your fucking hands on the ledge, you better make this quick,” I said in as harsh of a tone as I could without laughing.

“On the ledge God damn it,” I said again.

He chuckled and put his hands on the ledge. I grabbed his butt in my hands. As I did, he flexed his butt muscles. The felt like rocks in my hands. I pulled him toward me. As he bent his knees, I took him into my mouth.

I took him into my throat, and growled, holding his cock deep in my throat. Sliding out, I made slurping sounds, and spit saliva on the tip, and then back into my throat. I continued over and over, getting lost in the feeling of having him inside of my mouth.

I closed my eyes, and the man that I love moaned - on the roof of the parking garage, until he erupted into my throat.

I felt his warmth inside of me, the warmth of his flesh, and the warmth of his cum. I opened my eyes. He pulled from my mouth, and stood in front of me.

“You make me so fucking happy,” he said, looking down at me.

I smiled and looked at his face. He was so gorgeous. I’m sure, to most women, he looked stern. Mean. To me, he looked gorgeous. He may be harsh, and an asshole to most, but to me he was sensitive, and compassionate.

He provided me with all that I needed and wanted. I didn’t deserve him, and I didn’t deserve this, but I was going to take it as long as he would give it to me. Whatever Erik gave me, whatever he thought I needed, I would take. He knows what’s best for me, he knows – even when I do not – what it is that’s best for me.

I don’t deserve him, but he deserves everything I can offer him. And I am going to offer him my life.

Entirely.

I am his.

He owns me…

“Get up, baby girl, we need to go,” he said as he zipped his pants.

I stood up, and as I did, my knees burned. I looked down, and they were bloody.

“Baby girl, your knees. Damn,” he said, pointing at my knees.

“They’re fine, let’s go,” I said acting like it was no big deal. They burned when I stood. I could feel the blood trickling down my shin.

“Let’s go back to your house and clean those up,” he said.

“Okay.”

In the elevator, going up to the house, I looked down at my knees. They looked awful. I laughed, thinking of what people would think. The part of them that was scraped and bleeding was about the size of a baseball, or my entire knee cap. There were lines scratched into the skin from the concrete. I laughed as I looked at them.

“It’s not funny, they look like shit,” Erik said, shaking his head.

“It felt good to feel you cum in my mouth, it was worth it,” I said, and I meant it when I said it.

“You sure are a good girl,” he said as he leaned over and kissed me.

The elevator beeped and we got off, turned, and walked to my loft.

ERIK. “Do you want some help with the bandages?” I asked.

“No, I will fix them up. I have to pee too,” she responded as she went into the bathroom.

I walked through the open loft and looked out the windows at Old Town. This place had a fabulous view, and I felt peaceful looking out over the city. I wondered about my ability to live in a place like this in lieu of living in my home, or any home for that matter. There was a certain solemn feeling standing here looking out at the buildings.

I looked around the house. The floor plan was open, and the entire house was like a huge flat. It was decorated in a contemporary fashion, and looked very modern. I looked into the kitchen. The countertops were free of clutter. A toaster was the only sign of an appliance on the countertop. On top of the refrigerator was a jar.

I looked at the jar. It seemed out of place on top of the refrigerator. I walked closer, and as I did, I could see that it was a Mason jar, an old Mason jar with a brass lid. I walked closer. As I got closer to it, I could see that it was full of paper.