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I stroked her hair as I bucked and exploded with semen into her warm, wet mouth.
As soon as I calmed, she rolled the condom down my hard bare shaft and slid me right into her slippery, welcoming pussy. She fell gently down on me, put her arms and legs around me, and rolled us over.
“Ride me, cowboy,” she whispered while looking me in the eye and licking her lips dramatically.
Oh.
My.
God.
Her pull on my ass put us into a rhythmical parry-and-thrust into her. I saw it she was heating up. Ready to come again.
I stayed close and pulsed myself into her warm wet place. Grinding into her so gently. Waiting for her eyes to show me she going over the brink.
We both came, quietly this time, pressed into each other in the most intimate of missionary styles, watching each other take deep, deep erotic pleasure that had no words.
We held each other close, with me still locked inside her, until the second set of alarms went off and we pulled away—just a little—from each other.
“Samantha, I …”
“Me, too, baby. Oh,you! You are …”
“You treat me like a prince, too, darling. You are …”
“…sooogood to me.”
“Yes, you are.”
Samantha
Life was really good.
My stalker was gone and out of my life, sitting in jail. When they dug around, the cops had found several other stalking complaints about him, and even a case of a dead cat, thefts from the office he worked at, and other creepiness that, amazingly, he admitted to without remorse. And that I for one didn’t want to think about.
Davie still scootered me to work in the dark of night when I slept at home, but I was safe now. After work, I was sometimes with Leighton. When I wasn’t, I happily walked the seven blocks home and found that it helped me wind down from the day when I did so.
My customer base was growing and becoming more predictable, due to good word of mouth and the local ads I was putting on social media. Amy was terrific at handing out the “buy ten, get two free” cards (because, hey! Who didthat?) to build our loyalty business. Our “order twelve get one more” for our trademark Baker’s Dozen worked great on all our by-the-dozen orders. Alex was becoming a pro at the new batters and doughs and getting the baking times and temps right every time.
I was lucky in my first employees. Counting on them was important. I even invited Alex, “You’ve studied a fair amount. Why don’t you choose a brand-new pastry recipe, something we aren’t selling yet, and give it a test run?”
He got excited, “Really? Any pastry I want?”
I amended it with, “Any single-serving pastry type. Maybe one we can package in a Baker’s Dozen so not too expensive.”
Amy was consulted as he thoughtfully made his choice. They went back and forth, with Amy reminding him, “No, we had something real close to that three weeks ago.”
And Leighton? I only had eyes for him. I thought about Jerry and Davie. Did they have that stun-gun blast of love at first sight? I’d never thought about it since Jerry had been part of my family ever since I could remember.
But until Leighton turned to look at me that first time in my kitchen, I would never have believed—truly believed—love at first sight existed.
Every time Leighton came close, entered the room, or spoke, he took my breath away. I’d always stop everything to greet his, “Hey, beautiful,” with a “Hi, handsome,” and just gaze at him.
I’d never get my fill.
We’d had a handful of what Leighton called Official Dates in the past couple of weeks. Walks in the park, then takeaway dinner upstairs at his place. Or dinner out and love in his bed.
One evening he made his “Special Spaghetti Recipe” for our dinner (don’t make me repeat the recipe that only called for … water with a little spaghetti thrown in for kicks) but the slow dancing to old, old love songs afterward in his living room made up big time for the dinner “delicacy” since we stripped off a piece of clothing with each new song.
