Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 46943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
“Honey,” I said, trailing my hand along the edge of the fabric, letting my finger wander into that crevice between her thigh and pussy, stroking the soft flesh. “You know I want you to buy yourself something fancy, something nice. I mean, this underwear is great, don’t get me wrong, you look good in everything, but there’s no need to hold back. Spend my money, baby, buy something expensive for yourself,” I rumbled persuasively.
The brunette sighed, tossing her head back, angling her hips so that my finger was right at her wet hole, the thin cotton soaked through already. I groaned deep in my throat, the unmistakable smell of her wet snatch so pungent and aromatic that my dick, which had been at full mast already, punched out even more, big, dangerous, ready to do damage.
But Laurie wasn’t going to take advantage of my generosity, she thought I was a humble delivery man and nothing more.
“Oh Tucker,” she sighed, twisting sensuously on the duvet, her hole pressing down on my finger, begging it to make entrance, begging me to push in and stroke her. “These panties are just fine. Look,” she breathed, reaching one hand down and flipping the crotch inside out. “Look how wet I am for you.”
And I choked deep in my throat. Because the white cotton was serving its dual purposes. It kept her hygienic, clean, all that good stuff, but it was also perfect for sopping up her juices until the fabric was soaked, until a thin white crust of nectar formed, flaking off for my enjoyment later. I loved sniffing her panties, running them up and down my pole, even lapping at the white stuff. Fuck, I’m a dirty guy but I’ve never pretended otherwise, my mind’s in the gutter 24/7.
And fuck that pussy was bare to me now and there was no way I could stay out, the pink lips swollen and glistening under the low light, a slow trickle of cream swelling and trickling down her butt.
“Fuck baby,” I groaned, reaching a finger down to dip between her ass cheeks, sampling the ambrosia. Oh shit, Laurie was warm and sweaty between those creamy orbs, and I held my hand up to my nose, sniffing her butt sweat before licking my finger. “Fuck baby, you taste good.”
And giggling, she wiggled her ass a little, spreading her legs wider, shifting her hips while beckoning to me with half-lidded eyes. My depraved ways didn’t freak her out, had never turned her off, fuck, this was the girl for me for sure.
“Come and get it then,” she purred. “Come sample my kitty.”
And I was all over it like a dog in heat. That night, I trashed her cunt once more, running my dick in and out with no mercy, shredding those sweet vaginal walls before plundering her rectum, forcing my pole up her tiny anus.
“Ohhhh fuck,” I groaned, holding her tight as my penis let loose, spurts of cream running up her anal canal, showering her insides with my virile white. “Fuuuuuck,” I ground out again.
And it was good for the brunette too, she screamed before biting deep into my shoulder, her teeth leaving a half-moon imprint, her ass clamping and clenching around my cock, milking my balls until they were drained dry.
“Ohhh Tucker,” she moaned, her head lolling on her neck, big tits pressed into my chest. “Ohhh.”
That’s how it is every day. I love hearing my name on Laurie’s lips when she comes, it binds her deeper to me, makes my dick jump harder, spurt more, giving up everything to my beautiful brunette, body, mind, and soul. Because in a few short months, that’s what’s happened. This woman owns me, I jump whenever she beckons, I do whatever she wants, hurt when she hurts, and fuck, but I’m a goner. Tucker McGrath is completely under the spell of Laurie Holmes, and it feels absolutely right.
17
Laurie
I was with Tanya at lunch during work, sitting at a café around the corner from our building. The café was nondescript, filled with people like us, government employees escaping from their cubes for a quick meal in the New York sunshine, light sparkling off the sidewalks, cars speeding by spewing us with fumes as we ate our pasta.
But still, a sunny, relatively warm day is rare for New York City in the fall and it seemed like everyone was here this afternoon, eager to get out of the fluorescent lighting and drab work setting. So Tanya chewed slowly, trying to avoid going back to work for as long as possible.
“We still haven’t gone up to the Bronx to check out our signs,” she reminded me, fixing me with a look. “We’re flaking on our jobs. Maybe Saunders will fire me then,” she rubbed her hands gleefully.
I laughed.
“Tan, I know, I know,” I said ruefully. “I keep meaning to but things keep coming up.”