Page 91 of Unhinged

My jaw drops, and my gaze falls to his crotch, where I notice his hard-on. Forgetting about pulling up my underwear, I push Greg until he tips over to the floor, surprised. It’s dirty, but I don’t care. He tries to sit up, but I push him down again as I unbuckle his belt, and he gives in. As he helps me pull down his jeans, he says, “God, Simone. I want to fuck your mouth.”

Only pulling his jeans to his thighs, I pause. “I’m not trapping you. You can leave…”

“I know. I trust you. Make me come all over your tongue.”

I bend and take most of him into my mouth. Skipping slow and steady, I’m fast and erratic. His dick firms more with every lick. Greg’s hands go to my head, where he holds me as I pump and suck him. He pleads, “Don’t kiss him. I own your mouth. I want you to taste me all night.”

I almost stop, but he’s rock hard, and I feel him stiffening more, so I go all in, pushing him more to the back of my throat. His voice is loud. “Goddamn! I’m going to blow!”

I feel his spasms in my hand and on my lips, so I brace myself. Greg shoots into my mouth with a low groan, and there’s so fucking much that I gag a bit. But I right the ship and eagerly lap as fast as he gives it. Lifting my head, I stick out my creamy tongue before I swallow and lick the rest of his cum off his dick.

Greg’s fingers dig through my hair, messing it up for sure. His groaning sigh is sexy. He whispers, “That’s so fucking hot, baby.” Different emotions flood me, and I’m on a high.

Swallowing the rest, I sit up and see his wet dick still at full attention but looking satisfied.

We glance at each other, and I suddenly feel…exposed. I check my smartwatch. “Shit. I gotta go.” I get up, fix my underwear, and grab my spare clothes from my locker as I hear Greg sit up behind me.

As I go for my skirt, Greg asks, “You’re still going out with him?”

I frown at the tone of his voice. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You just blew the bartender in the locker room after he ate you out. I mean…”

I lick my lips, craving water. “It was awesome, but I need to put myself back out there, right? Only days left in our two weeks.”

“But we still have a year.”

I turn to face him. “Uh, no. There’s no sex after our time is up. Kleo will need to take care of your cock.” I spin back to my locker before he sees me cringe.

As I shut the locker door and turn back around, Greg stands. His softening dick hangs out in the locker room of a family-owned bar. He says, “I might not even work out with Kleo. What then?”

I shrug, even though I want to beg him to see past the college kid. I adopt fake confusion. “You move on? There are plenty of chicks out there who’ll put up with your madness.”

“I doubt that.”

I dig into my purse for breath spray. After using it, I toss it to Greg, but he hurls it back. I make a face at him as I dump it into my purse and find my perfume to spritz some on my wrist and neck. Greg watches me and inhales like I just handed him an oxygen mask.

Now feeling somewhat awkward, I grab my coat. “Night, swizzle stick.”

As I open the door and go into the hallway, I hear him mutter something. I swear it’s, “Night, doodlebug.”

Damn. I love that.

“But I’d rather play it on my Xbox than other platforms. We get a party going online. The competitions are fierce, and big money is up for grabs.”

I nod into my hand as I stir my iced tea. “That sounds…fun.” Not more than a root canal.

Elijah laughs. “You should play with me sometime.” Not in a million years now. He then laughs more. “I didn’t mean that way. Well, maybe.” Yeah, nope.

This date has been a hair short of unbearable. We’ve sat in a small Chinese restaurant for an hour and a half, talking about gaming, football, and professional wrestling. Is that still even a thing? I’ve only been able to talk about my interests for five minutes. After that, it didn’t matter to me, anyway. Elijah is nice, but even this stupid college kid feels like she’s on a date with an eighth-grader.

When he drops me off at the bar to pick up my car, I avoid an awkward kiss goodnight by claiming a sore throat. Desperate times. Though, it’s close to the truth since Greg hosed it raw earlier.

Walking to my car, I see Greg through a bar window. He looks as lost as some regulars. I wonder what or whom he thinks about. I’m married but so alone.

Getting into my car, I stare at my phone, knowing I have one of the hardest calls I’ve ever had to make. Putting it up to my ear, I wait for an answer.

“Hi, Mom. I’m okay. I have some news. No, I’m not pregnant.” I erupt into tears. “Just…married.”

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