Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
She nods, still trying to get her bearings, and my heart goes out to her. So much happened so fast, and suddenly, a pang of concern strikes my heart and I lean forward.
“You’re okay with what happened last night, aren’t you sweetie? I thought you liked it.”
“I did,” Alyssa says quickly. “So much and I’ve never had such an intense orgasm before. But I guess it was just a huge surprise.”
“It’ll get even better with practice,” I say with a grin. Then, I capture her mouth in a passionate kiss before she pulls away.
“Wait, what do you mean?” she whispers. “Practice?”
“Yes, practice,” I affirm. “You do want to do it again, right? And I’m pretty sure Bart does too.”
She blushes.
“Oh my God, has he contacted you?”
I check my phone but the screen is blank. “Nope. I’m sure he’s recovering from the party, that’s all.”
My girlfriend’s expression goes thoughtful.
“Yeah, but do you think we should talk about it? I mean, even if he does find me hot, it was still unexpected.”
I try not to sigh outwardly.
“You’re more of a talker than we are, honey. I’m sure if we call him up, he’d be game to continue.”
Alyssa frowns.
“Yes, but it would make me feel better if we discussed it.”
This time, I sigh aloud. The amount of talking we do occasionally overwhelms me, but I recognize this is important to my girlfriend and I whip out my phone once more.
“Okay, I’ll text him.”
“Wait, right now?” Alyssa squeals.
I look up, confused, my thumb paused over the keypad.
“Yeah, why not?”
“Okay,” she says, deflating a bit.
With that, I type out a message and within seconds, he replies. Then I snap my phone shut and grin.
“He’ll be over in twenty,” I announce. “You’re okay with that right?”
Immediately, Alyssa leaps off the couch while patting her hair.
“OMG, right now? Why didn’t you say? I didn’t think he’d come so quickly!”
I grin.
“We both know Bart doesn’t come quickly. He likes to work at you first and really do some deep pounding before exploding like a monster.”
With that, the curvy brunette rolls her eyes and laughs.
“Okay, okay, you’re such a horndog, Mr. Stillman. But still, Bart’s on his way over. We need to get ready.”
I pat her bottom fondly.
“No, relax sweetie. No need to pull out all the stops for my buddy because he wants you to be comfortable too. Your happiness is our first priority, so no need to clean like a maid before he arrives. Just sit back and relax, and we can talk as much as you like once he gets here.”
With one last long look at me, Alyssa settles at my side and I flip on the TV. But inside, my heart’s racing because this is my girl and things are only going to get raunchier once my buddy arrives.
6
Bart
I stroll up to the building where Liam and Alyssa live. It’s a solid brick structure, and the windows are large and spacious in addition to a nicely furnished front lobby. My buddy used to live in a two-bedroom by himself, but after he met Alyssa things swung into high gear. I wasn’t surprised when he told me that his girl was moving in because it was clear as day he was totally in love with the curvy woman. Hell, I would be too, given Alyssa’s sweet, lush body and sparkling personality.
When he opens the door, Liam pulls me in for a bro-hug.
“Hey man,” he greets, stepping aside so I can enter their apartment. “How’s it going?” There’s a large living area with a wooden dining table and L-shaped couches, as well as an enormous TV.
“I’m exhausted,” I grin. “Shit, people kept partying until five a.m. It was insane.”
Then Alyssa bustles in, carrying a tray of drinks like a good hostess. I can’t help but throw her a hungry look as she bends over to set the tray down, her ass rising in the air as her skirt exposes a long length of leg.
“Can I offer you a Coke, Bart?” she asks sweetly.
I nod. “Sure, sounds good.”
With that, we sit and Alyssa hands around the sodas. As I lean back, enjoying the burn of the carbon dioxide, I spot a framed degree on the wall and lean forward to get a closer look.
“Is that the Fast Track certificate we earned a couple years back?” I ask, squinting. “I swear, my vision’s going bad from old age.”
Liam lets out a laugh. “Yeah. My mom made me put that up because it’s the only degree I’m ever going to get.”
I chuckle because we actually met through Fast Track years ago. It’s in incubator designed to help entrepreneurs get their first business up and running, providing knowledge and information on topics as diverse as initial financing, social media marketing, to making your first hire. I signed up because I wanted to start my own carpentry business, and to my surprise Liam was there with the same goal in mind. Now, we both run successful independent woodworking shops, and it’s all thanks to Fast Track. Although we’re technically competitors, we’ve never been mean or nasty because there’s more than enough room in New York for two ambitious carpenters.