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“Feel how hard you make me, beautiful? That’s how much I want to be inside you.” Her whimpers goad me in my effort to stroke her stiff little clit until she can barely stand.
“Please, Gavin...” She moans as I pinch her nipple. “I need it...need you...”
I tease her underwear down so she can rub her slickness all over me. I can’t take another second of this delicious torture.
“Put it in,” I rasp.
She guides the head of my cock to her entrance. I bend my knees until the angle is just right and then thrust into her.
We moan together as I bottom out inside her heat. She grips my shaft like she’s clinging on for dear life.
“Oh my God,” she says, panting. “I always forget how thick you are until I have to take you.”
My thrusts are slow and deep as I reacquaint our bodies. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve had this woman; the ecstasy I feel each time I bury my cock in her pussy is as potent as the first time. She’s the perfect drug, formulated for my unique chemistry.
I don’t let up on her clit as I piston in and out of her, hard and fast. She grips the edge of the sink for stability as her legs quake. Her muscles clench around me.
“Come on my cock, beautiful. Squeeze me good and tight.”
Her clit beats like a tiny heart against my fingertips as she moans and shakes, coming hard around my dick.
I can already feel my cock swelling as the tension rises up my shaft.
Pleasure flows through me. I unload inside of Alexis and continue thrusting as cum drips down my balls.
Resting my brow on the back of her neck, I wrap my arms around her middle. She sighs contentedly. Even after my cock begins to soften, I’m reluctant to pull out. Alexis’s pussy is Eden, and there’s nowhere I would rather spend eternity.
However, I did promise her we’d check out some antique shops today over in the next county to see if we could find her something to use for her cabinet of curiosity.
I pull her panties up and kiss her sweetly, then put her in a hot shower while I finish cleaning up. After my own quick shower, we jump in my car and head for the country.
“Antiquing on a Saturday afternoon,” she says, gazing out the side window. “We sound like an old married couple. Thanks again for doing this, by the way. I know taking your girlfriend shopping for school supplies isn’t exactly riveting."
Hearing Alexis refer to herself as my girlfriend fills me with a distinctly masculine sense of pride. I kiss the back of the hand I’m already holding. “I’m just happy to spend the day with you somewhere we don’t have to worry about who’s watching.”
She smiles. “It’s probably a little unfair that I get to go shopping with my professor for the project he assigned.”
“If this were any other class, maybe.” Someone would have to straight-up refuse to complete the final project to earn anything less than a B in Natural History.
We drive another forty minutes before we reach the first antique shop I want to take her to.
My phone vibrates with a call just as I’m stepping out of the car. I check the ID and see my divorce lawyer’s number. If I had to guess, he’s probably calling with another low-ball offer from Bonnie’s attorney. I let the call go to voicemail, refusing to let anything from real life intrude on the perfection of this afternoon.
I open the shop door for Alexis and follow her inside. The place smells stale, like mothballs and old books, but I can already see her gaze darting around the shelves. An elderly woman in a green turtleneck emerges from an interior door that probably leads to her private residence.
"Good afternoon," the old woman says. “Remember, if you break it, you buy it.”
“Noted.” I shoot Alexis a look that makes her chuckle.
We browse the shelves of knickknacks and then move further into the building to check out the larger pieces of furniture. I point out a couple of shelving units and an old kitchen cupboard that look promising, but we ultimately agree they’re too large for her purposes.
"Gavin, look." Alexis points to a tabletop card catalog three drawers tall and four drawers wide. "This is exactly the right size.”
“Looks like it’s in good shape, too.” I turn the card catalog around to get a look at the back side. Only a few scuffs and some light chipping.
“I can label the drawers with what’s inside.” She pulls out one of the drawers and taps the dust onto the already dusty floor. “Assuming you won’t knock off points because it’s not an actual cabinet.”
“You could show up with a stack of shoeboxes taped together and I’d give you an A,” I tell her. She laughs. “At least with this, you might actually get some use out of it after the semester’s over, assuming you still want it.”
