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But yeah, now this.
The girl in my bed, snoozing peacefully, creamy curves relaxed.
Dripping with my cum, oblivious to how I’m eyeing her body like a horny dog.
Shit, it’s not supposed to be like this. With past sugar babies, I didn’t let them stay the night. Naw, not even Amanda, who was the best of that sordid bunch. It just didn’t feel right, you know? The whole reason why I look for an arrangement is exactly this. I’m paying the girls to leave afterwards, no questions, no hurt feelings.
But here’s Carrie now, limbs sprawled peacefully, those big boobies rising and falling as she sleeps. And shit, but I just want to fuck her again. I want to wake her up with my face between her thighs before easing into that sweet, hot channel.
“Mason!” she’ll gasp, startling awake even as my cock throbs, invading her insides. “Oh god, Mason!”
And it’ll feel so good, so right, blasting once more into that virgin warmth.
But this isn’t the time. Because we need protection, and fuck, but I can’t bring myself to open the nightstand and reach for the condoms. Yeah, they’re right there, two feet away. But it turns me off, the stench of latex, the gummy feel. No film of plastic is gonna come between me and that sweet cunt, no layer of rubber.
So growling, I lay on my back for a moment, forcing myself to breathe while staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is going on? How has this fever come over my brain? I want to drill Carrie so bad, but it’s more than that. I want to bring her to more company functions. I want to show her off, to take her to the best restaurants, or just walk through Central Park hand in hand. I want to see her smile, to hear that tinkling laughter as she looks at me, shy and sweet at once. I want her to move in.
Move in?
Into this place, my penthouse, my sanctuary?
What the fuck?
But fortunately, there’s no time to wrestle with the realization because Carrie’s phone buzzes then. Slowly, the girl comes awake, eyes blinking.
“Hi Mason,” is her soft greeting. “Good morning,” she says before reaching for her cell.
And shit, I’m done for. Because the brunette is like Venus rising from the sea, those generous white curves undulating as she stretches a bit, yawning.
But then everything changes. That naked body tenses as she stares at the glowing screen, the bluish white light casting her features with a ghostly glare. Carrie’s eyes go wide with panic as one free hand scrabbles to brush unruly curls away.
“Is everything okay?” I grunt, watching intently as she types frantically on the small keyboard.
The girl doesn’t answer, and I crane my head forwards a bit to see the screen. But phones these days are uncanny. There’s a privacy filter so that a sideways glance reveals nothing, just blankness. No worries, whatever it is, it’ll come out soon enough.
“Mason,” Carrie says, jerking her head up, breath coming fast. “I have to go. Right now. My parents showed up at the house, and Nicole is there alone.”
But that doesn’t make any sense. What’s wrong with having your parents and sister in one house? Suddenly, the details of my background check come rushing back. That’s right, Jim and Rhonda Newman are deadbeats, no-good lazy ass fucks who are probably addicted to drugs.
But Carrie doesn’t know I know, so her words come rushing out, tumbling over one another, anguished and sad.
“It’s a long story, but my parents are bad people. Trust me, I’m their daughter, I know. As a result, Nicole can’t be there alone,” Carrie states, voice rising with panic. “I have to go now.”
And springing to her feet, those naked curves sway enticingly.
“Where’s my dress? Oh god, where’s my purse? I have to go, I have to go,” she says wildly, looking about the room frantically.
“Calm down,” I soothe, big body already in motion. “Here, take these.”
And Carrie’s fingers snatch the sweatpants and t-shirt from my hands, thrusting them on. If this weren’t so serious, I’d laugh. The curvy girl’s swimming in my clothes, literally buried in layers of cotton.
But keeping a serious look, I speak once more.
“I’ll take you home and we can talk to your parents together,” is my smooth rumble. “No worries, things are gonna be fine.”
She rejects my offer outright.
“No. No, I have to go alone, but thank you. I appreciate it,” she says hurriedly. “Now where’s my purse?”
I hold up one hand, pausing for a moment.
“Seriously sweetheart. I don’t mind talking to your parents. I don’t mind doing a go-see, no worries,” comes my mild voice. Trust me, they’ll fall into line if I’m there. When the boss comes around, people tend to fall into line. Ma and Pa Newman would be no exception.
But Carrie shakes her head frantically, brown curls tumbling about those shoulders.
