Page 108 of Bridesmaid for Hire
This isreal.
This is so fucking real that I need a better look. I lift up on my elbows again and I cup her face, loving how her cheek hollows as she sucks the tip of my cock.
“Maggie,” I say, breathless.
She smirks, her mouth full of my cock, and it’s my undoing.
“I’m going to come,” I say as I try to pull away from her, but she plants her body firmly on mine and then deep throats me in one big swallow, taking me all the way to the back of her throat.
My toes curl.
My quads seize.
Every bone in my body stills as my balls tighten, my cock swells, and with a ravenous roar I’m coming all the way down her throat.
Pump after pump.
“Holy fuck,” I cry out as she continues to suck, swallowing every last drop until I’m sated. “Jesus Christ.” I drape my arm over my eyes, unable to comprehend the way she just took me.
The way she made me come so fucking fast.
Her mouth releases me and she gets off the bed, but I’m too spent to even move, to look in her direction, to marvel at her naked body.
I hear her in the bathroom, taking care of things and after a few minutes, she comes up to my side of the bed. I lift my arm to find her with a wet washcloth. She gently cleans me up and then moves my briefs back over my cock.
Well, fuck, I’ve never had that happen to me before, it’s always the other way around. I’m the one cleaning the girl up. Then again, this is Maggie, and she seems to do things on her own terms.
When she comes back to the bed, she puts my shirt back on and then curls into her pillow. With a sweet, but satisfied whisper, she says, “Good night, Brody.”
Jesus.
Yeah…good fucking night.
I’m woken from a deep slumber with the sound of the front door closing. Fear races through me as I sit up, thinking that Maggie left, but when I see her wheel in a breakfast cart, still wearing my shirt, that fear is immediately squashed—especially when I get a good look at her.
Her hair is tousled to the side and her makeup-free face radiates satiated joy in the sunlight pouring in through the sliding glass door.
Thoughts of last night scream through my head.
Her moans.
Her body writhing.
Her mouth on me.
My desperation.
And the way she took me all the way to the back of her throat.
It was a bad idea, but such a good one too and, now, in this unflinching morning light, I’m wondering what the hell she might be thinking.
I sit up and scratch my chest as she glances over in my direction. “Good morning,” she says.
“Morning,” I reply, appreciating the way my shirt barely covers her ass as she pushes the cart out to the deck. “Need help?” I ask.
“No, I’m good.” She stops the cart at the small bistro table set up on the deck and takes a seat. She peeks around the cart and says, “You joining me?”
Fuck, yes.
