Page 79 of David's Proposal

I forget about straddling him and moving on top of him as I near the edge and lose control.

At some point, he shifts his position, stands up next to the couch, and pushes me down in front of him.

I take him into my mouth, and he slowly pushes in, pressing the tip against the confinement of my throat.

His hands are on my head, and my palms are on his thighs, and I realize this won’t be my moment.

He’ll come in my mouth to satisfy his pleasure and maybe punish me for flirting with that guy.

Whatever it is, it fucks with my imagination in a good way.

He gets tenser, and before long, his hand wraps around my neck. Feeling the tension in his touch, I pick up the pace.

He comes in my mouth, his chest heaving, his grip iron-hard while I hold onto him for dear life.

LIZ

Thursday

Terry’s Place

“Are you ready?”Terry shouts from the other room.

“Not yet,” I say, looking in the mirror.

So the rule is, we wear fancy clothes but not those we’ll wear at the wedding.

No one wants to go there dressed casually, and it makes sense.

Since I can’t wear the gown my cousin has given me, I sport a party dress.

It looks like my gown’s naughty little sister.

It has the same beautiful strapless design, a long zipper down my back, and see-through lace all over.

My hair moves down my back.

The volumizing shampoo, the styling foam, and a few minutes spent with the curling iron have created big luscious rings.

The color looks vibrant, a contrast to my black dress.

Red lipstick and heels complete my look, and black underwear matches my dress and heels.

There’s no way I look like the flower girl I am supposed to be on the wedding day, but still, I want to look my best.

Sighing, I check my appearance in the mirror one last time, spin around to inspect my back, and grab the small evening bag sitting on my bed.

Terry and I decided to travel together.

We use her car because mine…Well, it’s still not fixed and sits in the front of my mother’s house.

“All right. Wish me luck…” I say quietly, talking to the voice inside my head.

I think she hid her head under a pillow.

She knows I’m up to no good.

And why would I be?

---