Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
He glided a single digit through the tight ring of muscle, experimentally pressing in and out as he licked my shaft and teased my crown with his talented tongue. My enthusiastic groans must have spurred him on. He added a second finger and pushed deeper, and oh yeah, that was my prostate.
“Oh, fuck. Yeah, that’s it. Right…there,” I grunted.
Smitty glanced up at me, his lips resting on the tip of my cock. “Can you take another?”
I nodded, steeling myself against a stab of pain. It hurt, but it was the kind of hurt I loved. I wanted more of this. Much more.
“I need you to fuck me now.”
He sat up and fumbled for the condom, tearing up the wrapper and adding lube. He stroked himself as he scooted between my thighs. “Is this good, or did you want to be on your knees? Tell me what you like. It’s been a long time for me and—”
“Fuck me, Smitty. Just fuck me.” I curled my fingers around his dick and guided him toward my entrance.
He growled something unintelligible and took over, pushing the tip of his cock inside. Our eyes locked as he slowly inched forward, stopping every so often to give us both a chance to get used to the onslaught of sensation. I definitely didn’t own a dildo this thick, and trust me, it took a minute to adjust to his girth and the pressure of being filled and stretched.
But God, it was good. It only got better when he began to move.
He covered me like a blanket and nuzzled my neck, rocking slowly at first and gradually picking up the tempo. We kissed, gliding our tongues with the rhythm he set. My glasses fogged, but I didn’t care. Every stroke of his cock lit me up from the inside, bringing my synapses to life.
Smitty dragged his teeth over my lower lip and braced himself on his arms, pumping faster and harder. I hiked my knees to my chest to make room for him and grabbed his ass, clutching his cheeks meaningfully.
“You want more? Can you take it?” he rasped.
“Oh, God, yes. Fuck me. Harder.”
He growled, his nostrils flaring as he slipped his hands under my knees and snapped his hips triple time. The hotel bed squeaked, and the room was filled with the slap of skin and blissed-out sighs. Actually, I’d long since given up trying to be quiet. I had no idea what I was saying, but it was rude and raunchy and probably consisted of, “More, fuck, yes, fuck me, fuck me.”
Pure poetry.
Smitty rolled us sideways, licking my swollen lips as he lifted my right leg and drove deeper still. He held me in place, his fingers digging into my upper thigh. He moved faster and I was officially a bumbling mess, holding on for dear life while he pounded my sweet spot…over and over.
“Holy fuck, I’m gonna come. Jerk yourself now. Come on. Come with me,” he demanded.
I gripped my cock and tugged, gasping a moment later and exploding into a thousand tiny pieces.
Cum spurted between our sweat-slicked bodies as he bucked and roared with the force of his orgasm.
Neither of us moved for a minute or two. We were literally fucked out and spent, panting as if we’d just crossed the finish line after a twenty-mile run in the blazing sun.
Smitty eventually pulled out and stumbled to the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth.
“Thanks.”
I wiped the mess on my stomach and sat up gingerly, surveying the tangled sheets before glancing at the sexy naked beast of a man standing in the middle of my hotel room. My gaze zeroed in on his flaccid penis. I fought a smug grin, pleased that I knew what it felt like to have him inside me. Fan-fucking-tastic.
He gestured to the complimentary water bottles on the dresser under the flat-screen television, his tattooed muscles glistening in the dimly lit room. “Mind if I have one of those?”
“Help yourself. Pass me the other one, please.”
Smitty tossed one over and sauntered to the bed, flopping next to me. “I played more minutes than usual tonight, got punched by some hotshot kid, changed a tire afterward, and barely broke a sweat. But this right here…damn, you wore me out.”
I chuckled. “Likewise. You’re a lot younger than me, though. Shouldn’t you be ready for round two in ten minutes?”
“Gimme twenty, and we’ll see how this guy is doing.” He snorted, gesturing at his spent cock.
I uncapped my water bottle and took a swig. “You got it.”
Smitty was quiet for a beat before blurting, “How much younger do you think I am?”
“Well, I’m forty-six, so…over ten years younger.”
“Ah, I’m thirty-five.”
“I know.”
He smirked. “So you were talking about me.”
“Mmhmm. My inner puck bunny was on high alert, gleaning details of all the single hockey studs, hoping I’d end up in bed with one,” I joked.