Page 38 of White Hole

George’s cock woke me up. The pole was laying between my legs and prodding my pussy apart. “Shh, go back to sleep. I’m just going to fuck you again.”

A whimper escaped my lips.

“I like you better while asleep, Sins.” He thrust inside. “You’re quiet.”

I smirked and enjoyed the ride, still half-asleep. For someone so reticent, he was quite talkative during sex. His ragged breaths filled my ears. Rocking forward, I could lift my hip and get more of him inside. I used to require my clit to be touched during sex, but he was so huge that his thickness was enough to make me detonate. Gripping the pillow, I screamed into it.

“That’s a good girl. That’s my princess.” His cock pulsed and erupted inside me. The waves of his pleasure were one of the best feelings my pussy had ever experienced. “Fuck, what time do you need to leave? Cause I want to do that again before you go.”

I chuckled. “What time is it?”

He rolled back, and his semi-erect penis slid slightly out, but most was still sheathed within me. Looking at his phone, he said, “Five. I can take you home if you need to go now. You need breakfast first?”

“No, I’ll get something at the apartment, but I don’t like to eat before my marathons.”

“That’s ridiculous.” As he sat up, his cock spilled out of me.

“What would you know? You ever run a marathon?”

“Princess, I’ve been training longer than you. Not running, but I know the proper way to fuel a body. Look at mine.”

Snorting, I couldn’t come up with an argument against him. Hewasa perfect beast of a man.

“Come on. Get dressed, and we’ll get you something to eat before I drop you off.”

“No way.”

“Sins, I am not taking no for an answer. Put your clothes on. I expect you to be ready to go in five.” He got up and started to dress. “Use the bathroom two doors down the hall.” He snapped his fingers and pointed like a drill sergeant.

I needed him to take me home, so I did as he said. If he was going to try to make me eat, it was fine, but I wouldn’t eat much.

After using the nasty bathroom down the hall, George made us protein shakes for breakfast. I sipped mine carefully as we loaded into his truck.

He eyed me and the fullness of my protein shake. “You need to eat some oatmeal or some complex carbs when you get home.”

Now he was mansplaining nutrition to me. I sipped my shake, not wanting to get into it.

Sensing my irritation, he changed the subjects. "Do you have a good luck charm?”

I thought of Cale’s bracelet, still sitting in my backpack. “No. Not anymore.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I mean, I had something, but it’s no longer lucky. Had it on when I got hit by that drunk driver.”

“Ah.” George nodded.

“Do you have something?”

“Yeah. My letterman’s patch from my jacket in high school. We only lost two football games, and both those times I didn’t have my jacket with me.”

I snorted.

“What?” he asked.

“I just didn’t expect you to be superstitious.”

George huffed. “Fine. I won’t wish you luck today, then.” We reached my apartment building. The sun was just starting to break into the sky. “Don’t trip.”

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