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Devon’s grip on my hair is merciless as I suck him, taking him deep down my throat. He wasn’t lying when he said he was almost there; it barely takes a minute of me swallowing his cock before he’s letting out a loud, strangled groan and coming in a rush down my throat.
I take my time cleaning up every last drop before releasing his cock and getting to my feet, finally taking a second to tuck my cock away and refasten my jeans.
“So…that happened,” he says, sounding completely confused by the whole thing.Hey, join the club mate.
I nod. “Yeah.” I avert my gaze from Devon’s because if I keep staring at him, I’m just going to end up kissing him again and then other stuff is going to happen. As I glance around, I notice a little entry table that I didn’t see before because I was so busy sticking my tongue down Devon’s throat and my cock up his arse; it’s a small table with a couple of unopened letters sitting on the edge, what looks to be a fake potted orchid, and a silver picture frame. And in the frame is a photo of Devon and my sister.
And if there was ever an automatic mood-killer, it’s that right there. Iknowthey’re broken up, and I know now the reasons for the breakup go far deeper than Emma’s decision to take a job abroad. And I also know now Devon didnothandle the breakup in the mature way he presented to our families. But I have no idea what any of that means. Why would he be fantasising about me if he were still hung up on Emma? Why would he keep this picture in the hallway as though they were still a couple but then let me shag his brains out? And why the hell do I even care? I don’t. I really, really don’t. This was just a one-time thing. Fantasy fulfilled. Cross that one off the list.
“Okay, so I’m going to go,” I announce, striding for the front door. I can hear Devon saying something behind me but I ignore him and just keep walking. Better to just split and we can go back to our regularly scheduled programming of hating each other.
It’s not until I’m halfway down the street and feel the cool October breeze on my skin that I realise Devon was probably calling after me to let me know I’d left my t-shirt behind.
