Page 63 of First Comes Love


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It feels fucking amazing.

It feels like flying and falling and orgasming all at once.

And when he finally gets himself all the way into my ass? Balls fucking deep?

Then it’s like every moment of the last year crashes together all at once.

“YES!” I scream. “FUCK MY ASS, FELIX FITZGERALD! FUCK IT LIKE YOU FUCKING MEAN IT! MAKE ME YOUR FUCKING WHORE!”

I hear him chuckle as I lose it. I’m going crazy against him, bucking my hips to try and force his rhythm faster. Moaning against the windowpane where pretty much anyone across the street at the Birmingham can see.

Orgasming—oh god, I’m totally fucking orgasming.

I’ve never felt so happy in my fucking life…and that’s before he reaches around to stroke my clit while he takes my neck in his teeth.

After—hours and fucking hours after—we’re lying in my bed together, totally spent. I’ve got my cheek against his thigh with his cock right there—up close and personal. Any closer, and he’d be inside me all over again.

We smell like sex and victory, and I’ve just finished telling him how insane he’s made me. The better part of a year with nothing exciting in my life but spending money and staring at his dick? Any girl would have gone mad in my place.

“Have you ever thought about getting into film, babe?” he asks, brushing hair away from my face.

“I can’t act,” I laugh.

“I don’t believe that. But if you wanted a new business…”

I smile at his cock. “A film studio? Don’t you get enough work without fucking your producers, babe?”

“Mmm. I do, in fact. But it’s a different type of film studio that I have in mind. Have you ever heard of…the male gaze?”

I kiss his thigh as he tells me all about it.

A female-focused film studio…

I don’t just love his dick now, I realize.

He’s got a pretty sexy mind, too.

It’s exactly the kind of way I’ve always felt that life and art should both play out…

If you don’t like the story…

Change it.

Alexis and WineBar #6

“What kind of wine would you like to order?” the guy sitting across from me at dinner asked.

We were sitting at Rue 57 and I was trying my best not to roll my eyes.

I mean, it had been like six days and I was determined to get out of the funk that I was in.

I tried to start dating. Black YSL with Louboutins that would make heads turn.

The Tiffany bracelet with the infinity logo.

A bagful of all the Sephora I could afford.

I walked down Fifth Avenue with a sway to my hips and a glint in my eye.

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