Page 97 of Trailer Park Billionaire

Then Ben releases his hold on me, pulls out, and strips off the condom.

He doesn’t even have to say anything—my hands are already on his cock, stroking.

It’s thick and wet and pulsing.

His cum shoots out a moment later, painting me like I’m his own piece of art. Ben groans as he keeps coming—longer than I’ve ever seen. His first load lands on my belly. The second on my lips. Careful not to touch his tip, I keep stroking, milking every last drop.

A moment later, Ben starts to shake. He sinks down to his knees, hands digging into the mattress. He’s spent. I gently massage his balls with one hand, and with the other, I scoop his cum off my belly. Our eyes lock as I put my finger into my mouth and taste him, savor him. He’s sweet and salty and… mine.

32

BEN

Mine.

Yes, mine.

I should make her mine.

How could I not?

It’s hard to think when your brain is short-circuiting from the most transcendent orgasm of your life, and you’ve just covered the most beautiful person you know in cum like some deranged Jackson Pollock painting of desire.

But there is a reason why I can’t.

I collapse beside her, limbs useless, chest heaving in time with hers. For a second, we just stare at the ceiling of the RV like it’s going to explain what the hell just happened. It doesn’t. The kid’s paintings I hung up flutter in the wind every time we exhale. Our fingers intertwine automatically.

“Don’t move,” I say breathlessly. “I’m going to get a towel to clean you up.”

Helena’s head shifts toward me, her nose nudging into the crook of my neck, one leg curling over mine. I wrap my arm around her without thinking. Instinct. Like breathing. Or gettinghard at the sight of her. Or panicking when I think about why we shouldn’t be doing this.

“That’s okay,” she murmurs, her voice muffled against my skin. Then she slips her fingers into her mouth again. “I can clean it up myself. I like tasting you.”

Air huffs out through my nose, my dick twitching at her words.

Maybe she’s just a figment of my imagination.

I let my hand glide to her nipple and give it a quick little twist. Helena winces in reply.

“What was that for?” she asks, biting my neck.

“Just checking if you’re real.”

“I think you’re supposed to pinch yourself. Here, let me help.” Her teeth sink deeper into my skin, then her lips kiss the sting away.

“Definitely real,” I whisper, turning toward her, seeking those plump lips of hers. She tastes like salt and satisfaction. “Just had to make sure, you know. Or else, my friends will think I’ve lost it entirely when I introduce another imaginary girlfriend.” With all my remaining strength, I untuck my arm from beneath her, roll out of the bed, grab a towel from the tiny bathroom, and return to wipe her clean.

“You’ve got an imaginary girlfriend too?” she asks, pulling me back into bed.

I nod. “You do too?”

“Yeah, but we broke up.”

“Oh, no. What happened?” I say with feigned shock.

“It was too much work to keep up the charade. Also, it was technically a boyfriend. I made him up, so Elaine wouldn’t be as worried about me being alone. But then she wanted to meet him and so…”

“He cheated on you.”