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“That’s it, angel. So fucking perfect. Your pussy was made for my cock.” I run one hand forward to find her clit and the other hand moves up to her throat. Lightly squeezing at the same time, I rub small circles on her clit. Her movements falter as she gasps, but with another gentle squeeze around her throat, I say, “Don’t stop now, sweetheart. Keep going. Use my cock. Show me how fucking gorgeous you look when you cum all over me.”
Her movements get sloppy as she gets closer. She rides me with no hesitation. Lost in her need to get off. As soon as she moans louder, her pussy clenching unbearably tight around me, causing me to groan. I pinch her clit and squeeze her throat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Presley chants as she explodes around my cock with a loud groan.
Before her pussy even has a chance to stop clenching around me, I grab her hips and flip her onto her back and sink my cock right back into her, thrusting hard.
She lets out a sexy gasp. Her hands moving to my back and holding on.
“So fucking hot. Tight and perfect,” I praise with each thrust into her.
“Oh god. Your piercing,” she moans. “It feels so fucking good.”
Her hips thrust up, meeting me halfway. “Good girl, angel. Keep going. Cum again for me.”
Her half-lidded, lust-filled eyes go wide as she gasps again. “Can’t,” she stammers.
“Yes, you can. You can do it for me. One more. You looked so fucking perfect sitting on my cock and not moving. I’m so proud of you. Your tight little pussy was perfect.” My hand snakes down between us to play with her clit.
Presley’s nails dig into my back as we both groan. I lean down and kiss her, thrusting my tongue into her mouth at the same time as my cock goes into her pussy.
My thrusts become shaky as my cock aches to release. Presley clenches around me as her legs tighten around my hips. Her head falls back, breaking our kiss. With an arched back, she screams out her release as I cum straight into her.
Groaning, I half collapse on top of her, gently thrusting her through her orgasm. When her eyes finally open again, I kiss her softly and murmur, “That’s my girl.”
Her entire face lights up from the praise.
I scoop her up and carry her into the bathroom, where we take a nice long shower together before curling up in bed naked. Presley lays her head on my chest with her leg thrown over mine as I rub her back.
“Agnes and I had a good talk today,” she mumbles against my chest.
“I’m glad, angel. I’m sorry you had to meet her alone, though. I wish I would’ve been there. I hope you weren’t feeling too anxious.”
I should’ve been there. I wish I had been. I didn’t even know that my mom was here. Nerds said she was supposed to have a later flight, but she must have gotten it switched and then just decided not to tell anyone. Presley seemed to have taken it well and I know my mom would have been sweet to her, but I still worry that it affected her negativity with her anxiety.
Presley chuckles slightly and lifts her head to look at me, mirth shining in her big brown eyes. “I actually already met your mom.”
“What?” My brows furrow. When the fuck would she have met my mom? That literally makes no sense.
“When she was leaving here to go to Montana, I was on the same flight. We ended up with seats next to each other and got to talk the entire flight. I had no idea she was your mom.”
“Wow.” I don’t say anything else, needing a minute to process that. How in the world did that end up happening? They meet and then, a while later, I meet Presley and end up falling in love with her.
“Yeah.” Her voice is quiet, and when I glance down at her face, she looks far away. Lost in thought.
“What’s going through your head, Presley?”
She scrunches her nose and opens and shuts her mouth a few times. I look down further, and as I suspect, she is pinching her palm. I grab her hands and stop her. “Tell me. Whatever it is, it’s bothering you. You can talk to me about anything.”
She takes a deep breath before sitting up and scanning my eyes. “Your sister. Your mom, she told me a little bit about it and how it affected her and what happened to her. But she didn’t tell me about you. She just said… she said you were gone. For five days. Wha-what happened?”
Out of all the things for my mom and Presley to talk about, I am stunned that it was Jana. My mom doesn’t speak about it. She doesn’t tell people about it. Going to her support group is hard enough. She rarely even shares then. All the guys here know not to bring it up. My mom doesn’t do well with it. So for her to talk openly to Presley about it means Presley left her stamp on my mom. Just like the rest of us. She has marked us, and we all adore and love her. Or in my case, have fallen in love with her.
“I’m sorry for asking. You don’t have to talk about it.” I was in so much shock about my mom having opened up to her I didn’t even realize I have been silent this whole time.
“It’s okay. Talking about Jana dying isn’t my favorite thing to do. But I want to tell you. I was just shocked. I can’t believe my mom told you about it. She never talks to anyone about it.”
“Really? She seemed so calm and talked about it as if she talks about it every day.”
