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Story: Wreck Me (Aspen Ridge #4)
carter
My hand caresses the bubbly ass of the sexy brunette currently bent over, wiggling her pussy in my face.
I lean forward, taking a deep inhale of her musky scent before relaxing back into the large chaise I’m occupying.
She shakes again, swaying to the thumping base of the loud music playing throughout the club.
She’s a sexy little thing, her hips gyrating to the beat, the flesh of her meaty ass jiggling in waves.
My hand connects with the side of her cheek in a loud smack, loving the way the flesh reverberates from the impact.
Her bare pussy glistens, already primed and ready.
I technically don’t need to go down on her first, but I don’t mind the taste of pussy, and knowing that she’s come even before I’ve entered her takes a little pressure off the main event.
“Are you going to eat her or do you just like to play with your food?”
A deep, masculine voice pulls my attention from the pretty pussy in my face, as a stranger takes a seat next to me.
My head lolls across the upholstered chaise in his direction, surprised by his close proximity.
He’s easily a few years older than me, closer to thirty than my twenty-five.
He has rich brown hair that’s combed back loosely at the top, sun-kissed skin, deep blue eyes, and a jaw covered in light scruff.
Objectively, he’s hot, like in the way a man can appreciate Chris Hemsworth.
“Why? You want a lick?” I quip as he shifts closer to me on the settee, his thick thigh resting against mine now. He smells of expensive cologne—woodsy and citrus—and I can’t help the inhale I involuntarily take.
“Not of her,” he marvels, his rich blue eyes drinking me in.
I squint at him in confusion as the brunette turns around, her bright brown eyes lighting up when she sees we have an unexpected guest. She turns, straddling me and leaning in, shoving her breasts in my face as she reaches to palm his cock over his black slacks.
Her skin is smooth under my touch as I roam up her body, stopping to grab her full breast, feeding a rosy-pink nipple into my mouth and sucking, swirling my tongue around her soft flesh until it’s a stiff peak.
A hand that’s too big and too firm to belong to the dainty thing currently in my arms moves to my crotch.
My body stiffens, my spine uncomfortably straight for the position I’m lounging in, my movements rigid and uncertain, unsure how to handle this situation.
I’ve had threesomes with two women before, but never thought I would entertain another man with a woman, especially if they swung both ways.
He leans closer, tilting his body completely flush against the side of my own as he rubs the palm of his strong hand over my rapidly hardening cock.
There’s something different about it that stirs something in the pit of my stomach.
With a woman, they’re delicate, their hands so much smaller, softer; they’re timid and unsure of just how to touch you. I fucking love that about them.
On the contrary, he isn’t afraid, he’s rubbing me off through my slacks with the precision of someone who has a cock, who knows exactly how good it feels to be touched this way, and it’s firing confused signals like strikes of lightning throughout my entire body, my cock responding greedily while my head grapples with what the hell to do.
“Is this okay?” the objectively handsome stranger asks.
I honestly don’t know. Is it? I’m straight. I don’t hook up with dudes. Hell, I’ve slept with every woman within the city limits. And the next town over. But his touch feels good, almost too good.
While he’s waiting for my reply, there’s a sudden pressure as he grips my cock firmer through my slacks. Fuck , that feels good.
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“Umm, okay. Yeah, it’s okay.”
The brunette pushes me onto my back, and I willingly situate myself so that she can straddle my face. I grab on to her hips, helping guide her pussy right down onto my waiting mouth just as I feel those big hands unbuckle my belt.
My heart stops beating.
Then my pants are unbuttoned.
Air leaves my lungs.
My zipper slides down.
My brain short-circuits.
Then it’s those same, massive hands with thick fingers pulling my rock-hard cock free and stroking it from base to tip, squeezing and twisting at the head as I lick into the wet center of the woman on top of me.
He squeezes my dick just right and I can’t help but moan into the drenched pussy in my face. I continue to eat her out languidly, her hips doing most of the work as she rocks back and forth on my mouth, but my mind is on what’s happening to my dick.
Sex is my thing. I love to fuck. This is just sex .
Being a member of Temptations, an elite, members-only sex club an hour away from my small town, has its perks for someone like me.
I love the variety I find here, the ease with which I can find a nightly hookup to fill a purely physical need to clear my head and give me the only hits of dopamine I get in my day.
Temptations has given me a place to unwind without worrying about commitment, expectations, or awkward conversations afterward about where this will lead.
The answer is always the same—nowhere. Sex is a primal, purely physical release and nothing more.
It’s a stress reliever. There’s no connection, no emotion, and most of all, there’s no love.
He holds my cock tight at the base in his palm before a wet tongue licks at my slit, prodding it and lapping.
No doubt cleaning up the precum leaking from me like I’ve never had a hand job before.
I’m a fucking aficionado at sex. Sex is what I do best, and there isn’t anything I haven’t done—except be with a man.
He teases me, licking over the head of my engorged cock like it’s a fucking lollipop, until I actually start to squirm, wanting more, chasing that feeling.
Just when I’m about to say fuck it and move on, happy to sheath my dick with a condom and slide this pussy onto it, his mouth swallows me whole.
I nearly come on the spot.
The warm, wet heat of his mouth suctioning around me is almost too much.
Pleasure scatters through my body, my hips stuttering, my ass clenching, my abs taut.
It’s so goddamn good. Squeezing her hips, trying to keep my focus on my task, I lick through her seam, spearing my tongue into her warm, slick center, fucking her with my tongue as her body shivers and shakes over me.
My hips jerk as his hands slide between my legs, cupping my sack just how I would do it to myself.
The head of my cock slides into his warm throat as he swallows around it.
I can’t help but moan into her, pulling her body down further to drown out the noises flowing from me, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing how good this feels.
Goddamn, he sucks me down like he’s trying to suck my soul through my cock, like I’m the best fucking thing he’s ever put in his mouth. He pulls back, lapping and sucking at my head before diving back down and repeating the process.
Fucking shiiit.
He pulls away just as I feel the first signs of my orgasm, my balls drawing up tight, the tingling at the base of my spine, my thighs twitching.
Figuring he had enough playtime with my cock, I put a little more effort into the pussy I’m feasting on, eager to slip her over my cock to finish myself off as soon as she comes, as long as she’s okay with it.
I don’t notice that the stranger hadn’t walked away until my pants are roughly shoved down to my ankles, a pair of thick thighs straddling my own, the wiry hair of his bare legs rubbing against mine and catching me off guard, reminding me that it’s definitely a man touching me right now.
He fists my cock in his big palm again, stroking it brutally, still slick with his saliva. But then there’s a completely foreign sensation. What the hell is that? That’s not a hand or mouth. Holy shit. That’s a dick. On my dick. He has both of our cocks in one hand and is stroking them together.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
What the fuck is happening and why the fuck am I so into this?
I’d blame it on alcohol, but Temptations has a firm two-drink policy, and I don’t drink more than one anyway.
I never want to be anything less than clear-headed in sexual situations, consent being my number one priority—especially with my job.
The last thing I need is someone falsely accusing me of misconduct .
The woman on me starts to shake, her pussy quivering as her orgasm moves through her, my mouth flooding with her cum.
Her body slumps slightly forward as she slips off of me, having had her fill, and then I’m no longer blind to what’s happening in front of me.
There’s no denying it. No ignoring it. I’m face-to-face with reality, unable to pretend something else is happening.
The man’s striking blue eyes are set on my own, heavily lidded and aroused as he pumps our cocks together. My heart trips over itself, a foreign sensation moving through my body that I don’t recognize.
I shift my eyes away, refusing to look into his while he jerks us both off, but not wanting it to stop.
What the fuck is happening? Our partner saunters away and I’m left lying on the chaise as he fucks the life out of our dicks.
His uncut cock is thicker than my own, but I’m slightly longer, my head red and angry as they glide against each other.
He pumps his hand over our smooth flesh tightly, our balls lying together, nearly having me seeing stars.
“You gonna come for me?”
The fuck?
“Are you gonna come for me ?” I hiss.
“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, lover.”
“I’m not your fucking lover,” I snap through clenched teeth, desperately trying to hang on to a shred of control.
Table of Contents
- Page 1 (Reading here)
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