Page 29 of His Pickle Her Jam

Yes, but there was more to it.

I wanted her pleasure. I wanted to be the one who gave it, who controlled it.

The only one.

I needed her to be mine. And I never felt that way before. I wanted more than to spend some time in her bed. I wanted her.

It wouldn’t be easy. Pursuing a relationship with her was fraught with a million complications. The least of which wasn’t that we were competing for the same damn storefront.

But she was important. I could feel it in my bones.

Her body quivered beneath mine and I groaned at how good she felt.

“Fuck. Are you close? I need you close, Pretty Girl.”

She nodded. At least, I thought she nodded. I was looking at the back of her head, but it appeared that way to me. Her ass jiggled in my lap with every thrust, the soft skin of her thighs slapping against my balls, and fuck, it felt so good.

“Rub your clit for me, Jan Baby. Make yourself come,” I demanded.

My Good Girl listened. I felt her lift, sliding her little hand between her body and the sofa. I pounded harder, making my strokes touch deeper, and her long moan filled my ears.

“Tell me. Tell me how you feel.”

I was seconds from exploding. My orgasm hovered on the periphery of my vision. But I needed her to come first.

“So good. You feel so good. Oh God! David, I-I’m gonna,” she moaned just as her cunt spasmed, strangling my cock with the strength of her orgasm and pulling mine right from my body.

After catching my breath, I leaned back, pulling my semi-hard dick from her slit. She tried to move, but I held her there.

“David,” she whimpered.

“Hold still. There you go,” I moaned, licking my lips as I pulled off the condom and grabbed a tissue to clean her.

“Someday, I’ll fuck you raw, then I can watch our combined pleasure drop from your body,” I said as I wiped her pussy clean and tucked the used rubber inside the tissue.

“Oh my God, David!”

“What? Can you imagine it? Sexy as fuck,” I said, smacking her ass before I allowed her to move.

“I can’t believe some of the things you say, David,” she murmured, her cheeks pink as she tugged on her underwear.

“Just telling the truth, Baby. But why don't you call me Buck?”

“Oh, do you mind when I use your real name?”

“Mind? Nah. I like it when you say my name,” I told her, cupping her cheeks and pulling her close for a kiss.

But instead of meeting her lips with mine, I licked her from the hollow of her throat to her gaping mouth. Sucking in the complex flavors that was this stunning woman.

My stunning woman.

“I like it when you say it,” I repeated.

“But I fucking love it when you scream it.”

CHAPTER TWELVE-JAN

Day 5 of Block Party Prepping (5 to go)

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