Page 4 of Angel's Fantasy

No, if she was going to see me naked, it would be after she was down on her hands and knees, looking up at me with those perfect, pouty lips and begging for the thick cock in my hand.

“Oh, fuck.” I let out a low moan as I stroked faster, harder, just thinking about the way her mouth would feel as it teased the head of my cock before her lips wrapped around my shaft, and the way her hair would feel as I slid my fingers through it while I thrust my cock into her mouth the same way I was thrusting into my fist.

She stepped back away from the window, but it didn’t matter. I’d seen enough—more than enough—to keep the fantasy going, and my hips bucked as my hand flew up and down my shaft, bringing me to the very edge of my climax.

I closed my eyes and pictured her looking up at me, those big, full tits pressed together as she waited, mouth open, for me to come.

And that was all it took, all I needed to finally find my release.

“Fuck, Bella,” I growled as the first pearly white jets exploded from my cock, spilling over my fist and onto the floor below.

My breath came in short, loud bursts as I came over and over, the intensity of my orgasm leaving me panting and weak in the knees as I finally opened my eyes again to see that the light had gone out in her bedroom, leaving it completely dark again, almost as if she’d never been there at all.

There was no doubt that it had been real, though, and I didn’t need my still-rock-hard cock or the evidence I’d left on myself and the floor to tell me that.

Even if she hadn’t been aware of it, she’d been toying with me, teasing me the way she always did. And even though it was sometimes frustrating and always left me with a case of aching blue balls, I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

I loved the chase, the game, the anticipation.

And I knew that someday, somehow, I’d find a way to win that game, to end the chase.

To make that hot-as-hell fantasy into reality.

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