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Desire.
Lust.
Fireworks.
As our kiss deepens, that’s what I’m feeling and more. I feel swept away on a tidal wave of lust and need.
Oh, shit, are those fireflies?
Holy shit!
No.
Not a chance.
I ignore the rippling sensation overtaking my heart and core and concentrate instead on the rockets of desire seizing control of my dick. I focus on the way Amy’s perfect tits feel, smashed against my chest. The voraciousness of her tongue and lips as they move in concert with mine. I lose myself to the thumping greed I feel to get those perfect tits out of that dress and into my mouth, before laying her down and devouring her sweet pussy. I’m going to become the first man, ever, to make her groan in ecstasy as her body ripples with the best orgasm of her life. And I can’t fucking wait.
A soft but desperate moan escapes Amy’s mouth, and I ferociously grip her ass with both palms and press her into me, letting her feel the full length and girth of my arousal. In response, Amy convulses against me like I’ve shoved my tongue inside her cunt, and that’s what makes me lose complete control and do something I know I shouldn’t.
“I can make you come, baby,” I whisper hoarsely into her ear. “Any way I want to do it, easy as pie. Over and over again—with my fingers, tongue, and cock—you’d be my puppet, and I’d be pulling your strings.”
Amy whimpers and babbles an incoherent string of words, before desperately gripping my forearm and whisper-shouting, “I’ve got a room upstairs! Take me there and give me an orgasm, so I know I’m not defective. Give me one, so I know the problem isn’t me.”
I’m out of my head with the need to taste and fuck—to make Amy scream my name. I’m not thinking about consequences. Not thinking about tomorrow. I’m thinking with nothing but my throbbing, aching dick—the part of me that wants to fuck this woman, every which way, consequences be damned.
My breathing ragged, I touch Amy’s cheek, making her shudder. “I’m gonna give you a whole lot more than one,” I whisper. “I’m gonna eat your pussy like it’s my last goddamned meal—and show you how good it feels, when a guy does it right. That’ll be O number one. After that, I’m gonna do The Sure Thing on you, and make you come at least two more times that way, until you’re speaking in tongues and begging me to fuck you. And then, when I finally fuck you, when I give you what you’re begging me for, you’ll come again. Only this time, with my cock inside you, which is gonna feel so fucking good for both of us, we’ll both see God—a whole lot clearer than we ever saw him in that church today, I promise you that.”
Amy’s legs give way underneath her, so I grip her arm to keep her from melting to the ground.
“This is all I’ve always wanted!” she shouts. “Let’s go!”
Panting, I grab her hand and pull her with me, a man on a mission. But when we turn the corner of the patio, catastrophe strikes.
“Amy!”
It’s her mother.
Oh, fuck.
She’s sitting with my mother on a wicker loveseat on the patio, with both women holding champagne flutes. In a heartbeat, I drop Amy’s hand and take a lurching step away from her like she’s on fire and I’m covered in gasoline.
“Hello, Colin,” my mother says smoothly, as Amy’s mother strides to her frozen-in-place daughter.
“Are you all right, honey?” Amy’s mom says, as my mother shoots me a death-glare behind her. “Honey, you look flushed,” Amy’s mom says, putting a palm to her frozen daughter’s forehead. “You feel hot. Are you feeling sick?”
“We’ve been dancing,” Amy gasps out. “That’s why we came out here. To cool off after dancing.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of her, Colin,” Mrs. O’Brien says. She grabs Amy’s hand. “Come sit down. Both of you. Bianca and I were just reminiscing about the good old days on Cedar Street.” She pulls Amy to sit next to her, while I remain in place with my hands clasped in front of my throbbing dick.
“Come sit, Colin,” my mother says calmly. But she’s only pretending not to be lethal. I know full well she’s a spider, inviting a fly into her web. She beckons, her dark eyes blazing. “Join us, sweetheart. We’re having such a lovely conversation about the good ol’ days.”
Amy’s mother says, “Bianca was just telling me you gave Amy all your birthday and Christmas money when Amy had that lemonade stand!” She chuckles. “I had no idea you did such a sweet and selfless thing for her! That’s so Colin.”
“Yep, that’s Colin for you,” the assassin who birthed me says. “Sweet and selfless. It’s what I always say.” Mom smiles at me like she just wrote my name at the top of her kill list. “Or maybe he was only like that around Amy, come to think of it. He’s always had such a soft spot for her, right from the start.”
