Page 156 of Smooth Sailing

She slid him out, he got her eyes, but her tight little fist around his dick kept pumping him, and she used the nails of her other hand to drag them down his inner thigh.

This meant he closed his own eyes, dug his head into her headboard and shot all over his stomach.

She milked the last gushes out with a gentler hand, and he was far from over it when she landed on him like she wasn’t bothered the least about lying on a puddle of cum.

He forced himself to focus on her and saw her smiling huge.

“Well, that was fun,” she said.

Hugger grunted again, but it was just a sound, no words this time.

“I’m glad I did my hair yesterday so I’d have an extra half an hour to go down on you this morning,” she shared.

He’d woken rough, as normal, but got over it pretty damn quick when Diana went at him right away.

He was back to rough, and more, realizing he had a woman on his hands who was chipper in the morning.

Not to mention thrilled she got to give him a blowjob.

“Give me a second to recover, and I’ll return the favor,” he mumbled.

“That’s not necessary.”

He squeezed her with his arms. “Babe, I come, you come.”

“Is that a rule?”

“It is for me. For us.”

“I overwhelmingly accept this as a rule for us, though with caveats, like rainchecks when I have to get up and get ready for work.”

“I thought you could pretty much come and go as you please.”

“I like to be disciplined about it so if Annie tunes into the real world, she doesn’t think I’m taking advantage.”

He rolled her, stating, “You’re gonna be late today.”

“Harlan.”

He slid his fingers between her legs.

“Harlan,” she whispered.

He smiled.

Then he kissed her.

Then he went about negating any bullshit about rainchecks.

Hugger was in his chair at the window, he had his phone out, and he was looking at the careers page of the Denver Art Museum.

They had three openings.

None of them in Di’s field.

Di had finished with the painting the day before, and now she was sitting at the big table in the middle of the space, bent over a tiny square of wood, peering through a big stationary magnifying glass, working on it with some brushes.

It was mid-morning.

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