He takes control and deepens the kiss. Our lips are tangled together and the palm of his hand is pressed against my back, pulling me toward him. I briefly stand up and then sit down again, straddling him, never letting our lips break apart. His hands go to my thighs and his hard length is pressed against my core. My hips gyrate against him, wanting him, begging for a release.
He pulls away and rests his head against mine. His breathing is erratic and I can tell he is trying to get control of himself. But that’s not what I want. I want him to lose all control with me.
“Don’t stop, Brody. Don’t stop. I want this. I want you,” I plead as I grind against him.
Groaning, he answers, “I want you, too. But once I’m in your tight pussy, that will seal your fate, honey. You will be mine. Until you realize that, until you are willing to be mine, I can’t do it.”
I’m barely hanging on here. I’m so out of my mind wanting to come that I almost promise him everything he wants. But reality hits me and I know I can’t do it. I don’t do relationships. He must be reading my mind, because then he tells me, “Don’t worry, honey. We will get there.”
Even though I know we won’t, I still see the hope in his eyes and I want to believe him. I very badly want to believe him.
“You need to come, don’t you, baby?” he asks me as he lifts his hips up and presses his hard cock against me.
“Yes, please, yes,” I beg him.
He lifts me up like I weigh nothing and lays me down on the couch. In one fluid motion, he has my sleep shorts and underwear down my legs and on the floor. I’m bare to him from the waist down.
I’m wet, soaked. He spreads my legs wider, one on the floor and one on the back of the couch.
When he touches the inside of my thigh, I about come undone. He strokes through my slick folds and when I moan his name, he bends down and kisses my mound. His tongue slides across my opening and then he focuses on my wet, swollen bundle of nerves.
“Come for me, baby.” He moans against me and instantly my hips are shaking uncontrollably, my hand holding his head to me as I ride out my release.
My plan is to give her the release she needs, then get the hell out of here. A man is only so strong and looking at her right now, it wouldn’t take much for me to give in. She’s satiated, her eyes are hooded and her pleasure is evident on her face. I lean over and kiss her before cuddling her in my arms and picking her up. I carry her, lying limply in my arms, to her room awkwardly because it’s like I have a steel rod in my pants pressing against my zipper. I lay her gently on the bed, pull the covers up over her and sit beside her. She opens her eyes and looks up at me.
“Brody, I can’t do forever. No matter how much I want to,” she whispers sadly to me.
I don’t want to ruin the night and I know she’s not really in the mood to talk right now. “I won’t take anything less with you.”
She starts to argue, but I put my finger across her lips. “We will talk tomorrow. Sweet dreams, baby girl. I’ll lock the door on my way out.” I kiss her one last time and leave.
Walking to my truck, I tug at my jeans. I sit and try to calm myself down. If I was any less of a man, I would have taken what Charlie was willing to give. But that’s not enough for me. I want it all. And I want it with her.
The next morning, I wake up well rested, but my eyes are still swollen from crying. I drive to the office and when I walk in, the receptionist, Carrie, jumps up from her desk and comes around to me. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
I shake my head at her and go to my office. No sooner do I sit down than Carrie comes in and shuts the door.
“Charlie, I know you like to keep things to yourself and whatever, but your face is as white as a ghost. Talk to me, let me help you.”
After years of being on my own, I have two people wanting to help me in the span of two days. A tear slips down my face and I wipe at it quickly. What is wrong with me? For someone that never cries, I’ve turned into a blubbering mess.
“I, uh, don’t even know where to begin,” I tell her honestly.