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She leans forward, pushing her breasts together. Her hands tighten on her tits, highlighting their size, making me almost beastlike when I spot a fertile vein moving through one of them. There’s somuchof her to obsess over. Fuck. I’m panting.
“Like this?” she asks.
“Y-yeah.”
She tilts her head, sassy, assured. “You know how crazy it makes me, seeing you like that?”
“I’ll only ever look atyoulike this. You’re theonlyone who can have this effect on me. Say it, Lucy. Tell me what you want.”
Her eyes get hazy, but then she gets it, my enthusiastic virgin. “Fuck my tits, Jamie.”
I tear my pants down, my cock springing up, then guide the tip to her mouth. “Get it wet first.”
She moans and leans forward, stroking my shaft and licking my tip. Then I guide my dick down to her thick breasts, groaning as I drive back and forth. I’m so goddamn keyed-up, so ready to start a life with her. I lose control in minutes, almost roaring as the seed bursts up my shaft. It erupts onto her chest, my balls emptying, my tip aching.
“Rub it over your tits,” I growl, leaning back and taking my cock in my hand.
I stroke myself, staring as she makes those big breasts gleam for me. Perfect drops of come cling to her nipples. She springs to her feet, her tits bouncing, shiny.
“Let’s do it. Let’s send the article. Let’s make this official.”
* * *
After clickingsend, I spend the rest of the day typing my novels on Lucy’s laptop. She works nearby, going over my first novel. She’s printed it, and she’s making notes.
“Finding lots of mistakes?” I tease.
She looks up and smiles, still flushed and vibrant from the earlier steaminess. “Places to make the story even better, you mean. To draw outyourvoice.”
“Anything worth salvaging?”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s almost like you don’t likemebeing in charge for a change.”
I grin. This feels so perfectly domestic, like we’ve already begun our lives.
“You’re in charge, Lucy,” I tell her. “Earlier,youwere in charge then. You’re the only woman who can do that to me.”
She bites her hip, glances at the laptop, and glances away.
“No woman has ever…”
“Say it. Whatever it is.Excitedyou like that?” she finishes.
She’s sitting on the recliner, paper in her lap, occasionally chewing the end of her pen with this faraway, captivating look on her face. Her thick legs are outlined in the black yoga pants as if she’s trying to drive me feral.
“Never,” I say.
“Have there been many? Women?”
“No,” I reply. “I was never a playboy. Obviously, I’ve been with women, but it was never like this.”
She chews the end of her pen, looking more anxious than artistic this time. “What was it like?”
“Are you sure you want to talk about this?”
She stops chewing the pen. “Why? Do you have something to hide?”
I shake my head and lean forward. “It was cold and distant, honestly. I had this hole in me. Nothing, nobody could touch it. Nobody could ever touch it before I saw you. When I tried to get into relationships back then, they failed within months. So I stopped trying for a couple of years. Then I went to prison.”
