Judging by the way her fingers start rubbing her clit faster, I can tell she likes a little bit of praise.
“Fuuuuuuck,” I moan.
My legs feel like they could turn to jelly at any moment and fall out from under me, but I’m determined to stay upright and enjoy this perfect moment.
Her throat feels so tight around me that it doesn’t take long for me to come right to the brink.
Not wanting to surprise her, I say, “Shit, Avery, I’m going to come.”
She doesn’t stop, though. She keeps going, and I start shooting my load down her throat. She moans as she swallows every last drop.
When I’m too sensitive for her to keep sucking, I pull her to her feet and kiss her. Her hand still continues to play between her legs, but I stop her.
“Let’s finish in here, and then, I’m going to make this pretty pussy come all night long.”
“So,howarethehouse projects going?”
The question comes from Sue, my second-in-command at work. We are on our weekly chat, touching base on everything that we need to go over to keep things moving.
“Pretty good,” I tell her. “Duke is doing a good job of getting everything done.”
“How’s that whole thing going?” She asks.
On our last call, I tried to play it off that nothing was going on, but Sue saw right through me. According to her, “It’s painfully obvious when I’m getting laid.”
“Things are good,” I reply. “Really good, actually.”
“Are you bringing a sexy boy back to Boston with you when you come?”
“I have no idea,” I say, entirely honest. “I haven’t thought about it much.” That part is a lie.
I think about it all the time. After Duke and my conversation in the bathtub the other night, I feel confident that he and I will be okay, no matter where we are. Trouble is that I just don’t know where I want that to be.
I love Boston. I’ve always been happy there, but then, I come here, and something about it is starting to click for me.
As if she can read my mind, Sue says, “You’re not thinking about staying there, are you?”
My shoulders shrug. “Maybe. Maybe the small-town life is growing on me a little.”
“Oh, lord. You’re letting that sexy boy get into that big head of yours.”
“It’s not my head that he’s gotten into.”
“Well, that and your pants,” she quips.
“Sue, I meant my heart.”
That makes us both burst out laughing. Back home, Sue is probably the closest thing to a friend that I have. But I’m her boss, so I’m not sure if that really counts.
We talk a little bit more before we get off the call. Deciding I need another cup of coffee, I walk into the kitchen but realize the pot is empty.
I look at the clock and have a whole debate with myself as to whether or not four PM is too late to make another pot of coffee.
Who am I kidding? It’s never too late.