Page 96 of Dock

Thrusting motions thoughtlessly begin, encouraging my entire body to get into it.

To not only fuck her with my tongue but to work my entire frame like she’s pinned underneath all of me.

“Holyshit,” Emmerz manages to mumble as her fingers scratch at my scalp and her feet bang on my back and her head callously knocks, uncaring about who could possibly see us or hear us. “H…H…” Her repetition of the nickname she gave me merely convinces my muscles to push in and out faster. And faster. “Ohmyhugbgfmdsn…”

Is gibberish supposed to make my fucking balls ache like this?

Is this how other dudes feel when chicks speak to them in foreign languages?

“H…” All of a sudden, one back breaking bow is accompanied by a sharp screech, “H!”

Scorching hot pulsations around my tongue threaten to take me over the edge with them compelling me to anchor my fingers into the cushion of her ass in order to redirect my attention elsewhere.

Emmerz’s legs clamp down on my head, smothering out her sweet, ceaseless screams of my name, yet, hearing them in a muted nature, somehow makes them fucking hotter.

And me hungrier.

And even more determined that everyone knows that this woman, is my woman.

My Old Lady.

Mine.

Chapter 17

Emaline

Okay, but smushed flowers can still like…go in a vase, right?

They aren’t just dead to you forever because they got a little squished.

“Mowwwwww,” Noodle judgmentally murmurs from where he’s sitting on the counter space in the kitchen.

Geeeez…fine!

A lot squished.

Practically potpourri.

However, no one has ever brought me flowers outside the classroom, so I’m gonna make the fucking most of it.

Even if it means proudly displaying a mangled mess because my getting off was a bit more important than getting these in water.

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip prompts H to arrogantly chortle, “We can go again whenever you want, Teach.”

Redness coats my cheeks as I shoot him a playful stare over my shoulder. “We should probably talk, first.”

He leans back in the light grey, dining room chair, he’s occupying. “We did.”

“You talked,” I gingerly correct.

“And you screamed.”

Additional crimson coloring my complexion causes me to turn back to the beautiful – albeit crunched – arrangement he brought me.

I’ve honestly never been that loud with anyone else.

And truthfully?