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“Sure, yeah. Thanks,” I squeak. “Oh, make sure Peanut Butter doesn’t get the rose bushes again.” The advice is unneeded, but I don’t know what to say. How do you go from ‘get your cock off me’ to taking the dog out?
A moment later, I hear the door to the room open and close.
Slowly, I crack open the door, peeking out.
Empty. All alone.
I start toward the dresser, but the mess of pillows and sheets on the freshly slept-in bed catches my eye. And then I glance at the door. If Carter already thinks I did jill off, then what’s the harm in actually doing it? At the least, it’ll take the edge off and clear my head so I can think properly at breakfast.
I don’t decide. I act. I rush over to the door, peek out to the hallway to make sure it’s clear, and then close and lock it. Locking it is key because if Carter actually walks in on me . . .
I hop in the bed, grabbing the pillow that still smells like Carter and not examining why that’s so sexy. Nope, not doing that right now . . . and probably not later, either.
I lie face down, gathering the pillow in one arm to bury my nose in his scent, and slip my other arm underneath my body. With my hips lifted and my knees parted, there’s a delicious sense of vulnerability as I feel my lips spread to the air of the room.
I grin into the pillow when I feel my wetness coat my fingers. This is gonna be quick, what Samantha calls the ‘Hundred Flick Dash’.
I close my eyes, and though it’d be a nightmare in real life, in my mind’s eye, I imagine Carter walking in on me . . .
“What the fuck?” His exclamation is in surprise, but his eyes are hungry for me, enjoying the view.
“Carter!” My fingers stop as I blush furiously.
“Sorry, I . . . fuck, that’s hot,” he whispers, and I can tell he’s not lying. The circus tent in his pants confirms that. “I came back to get my phone, and I heard . . . something. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I am.” At least I think I am, given the way he’s licking his lips.
“Don’t you dare stop,” he says, stepping closer to the bed. “Let me watch you get yourself off. Show me how you like it.”
“Look. But don’t touch.”
“Deal,” Carter says, climbing onto the bed. He sits down behind me, his ass on his heels and off to the side a bit so he can see my pussy and my face as I curl to the side to see him too.
He’s straining to get out of his pants, the long, thick rod visible in his sweat pants.
“Let me see you too,” I say with a confidence I don’t have in the real world.
Carter yanks his T-shirt over his head and hooks his thumbs in his waistband to drop his pants below his butt, letting his cock free. His body is chiseled and lean, his muscles strong and powerful without being bodybuilder pumped, his deeply ridged abs narrowing to a happy trail that leads to the very definition of proud manhood, standing straight up and rock hard.
He licks his hand and does one full stroke, looking at me as if he’s waiting to see if I protest.
When I don’t, he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps slowly. “Be a good girl, Luna. Work yourself for me.”
“Mmm . . . is that for me?” I ask as I slip a finger inside myself, shuddering at the feeling. I do it again, the heel of my palm bumping my clit as my finger thrusts inside and I watch Carter stroke himself slowly until precum oozes from his tip.
“That’s for you,” he says, and I’m tempted to ask for a taste . . . but he uses it to spread over his head, giving him a slicker grip. “And when I spill cum everywhere, it’ll be for you too. You’re driving me fucking wild, Luna.”
I fuck myself with my fingers, hard and fast, the bumps to my clit a shock of pleasure each time, getting me closer and closer.
“You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Pussy in the air, begging me to fill it with my big cock. Fuck, I’ll grip your hips, slap your ass, and slam so deep inside you, you never forget what it feels like to be filled with me.” Carter strokes himself mercilessly, his words turning us both on.
“Do you want that?” he demands.
I bite my lip and nod, too focused on my hand’s rhythm to find words.
“Not good enough. What are you going to do to me? Tell me.”
I wrench open my eyes to meet his. He wants me vocal, as aroused by the words as by my telling him what I want. I gasp, stuttering out, “Suck you, swallow you. Till I’m a mess of drool and cum. Even tears, because I choked on you.”
