Page 58 of The Winslow Brothers

“Faster, Soph,” I coach her, knowing she’s on the brink of coming again and wanting so badly to make sure she does it before I do.

“Oh God,” she whimpers, her head dropping back as the wave of pleasure starts to roll over her. “Oh God, oh God, ohGod!” she yells then, her tits bouncing so deliciously during her frenzy that I know, without a doubt, they have to be the next thing I taste.

“Yeah, Sophie, come,” I beg, feeling my toes curl involuntarily with impending orgasm.

Finally, she lets go, dropping her chest forward and onto me, and my own climax hits me so hard, I swear to everything holy, I think I see stars.

Our breathing is ragged and our skin is flushed, and still, all I can think about is having her again.

“Next round,” I say softly, “you’re going to be naked and riding my cock in the shower.”

Tuesday, March 6th

Sophie

My legs feel like lead and my arms are sore, and opening my eyes feels as though I’m doing it under a heavy blanket. It takes me a minute to come into any kind of awareness, but once I do, memories hit me with a vengeance.

I’m tired, I’m sated, andholy hot sex, I cannot believe all the things that happened last night.

Scouring the sheets next to me with tentative fingers, I hope with all my might that this doesn’t have to be super awkward. I mean, we’re adults, right? So what if we got a little wild and spent the night together without me even knowing his last name?

It’s not a big deal.

It’snota big deal.

Holy aching vageen, this is kind of a big deal.

Let’s be real here. This isn’t something I typically do. I’m not a casual dater, and I’m sure as hell not the woman who brings an exotic dancer to her house andsleepswith him.

Cripes. And now I have to get this guy out of here. Plus, he knows where I live!

When the sweep of my arm is unsuccessful in making contact, I squeeze my eyes shut tight one last time before releasing them. The light of my room is stagnant, the sun clearly having made its ascent into the sky a while ago. Tentatively, I turn my gaze from the window to the bed, but instead of hard, muscled flesh and the smell of man, all I find are the slightly rumpled remnants of his sleep spot.

My eyebrows draw together, and I shove up to sitting. My heart starts to pound involuntarily in my chest.

Did he leave? Or is he just, like, in the bathroom or something?

The door to my en suite bath is partially shut, so I lean almost comically in that direction and redirect all my focus to my ears. They ring with the effort to catch any sort of minuscule noises, effectively blocking out the possibility ofactuallyhearing them.

Frustrated, I sigh and climb from the bed, stumbling a little when I realize just how raw I feel. My legs are fucking bowed, I think.

I rub at the top of my full feeling vagina, and my stomach flips over on itself with misspent excitement. I don’t know how she can even be considering taking another ride on the freaking baton-sized schlong from last night, but evidently, she’s got her own set of priorities.

Carefully, I waddle-walk over to the bathroom door, leaning into the jamb with my hand and listening intently. When twenty seconds go by without any noise, I push the door open.

Nothing. Only an empty bathroom and a sex-shower that now mocks me.

I turn immediately, stalking down the hallway as much as my aching kitty will let me, slamming the bedroom door behind me as I go.

Even the hall mocks me with her memories of the dirty things that occurred there, and I wrinkle my face into an expression of disgust.

“Shut up,” I tell the slutty hallway as I set foot into the living room.

I wish I could say I don’t jump out of my skin when the hallway answers, “I didn’t say anything.” But I do.

“Cripes!” I yell on a shriek, noticing my sister Belle sitting at my kitchen table like she belongs here. “What are you doing here?”

Belle glances up from the newspaper, shrugs, and then scoops up a bite of cereal—my cereal—and shoves it into her mouth. “Eating,” she says then, the word garbled slightly around Frosted Flakes.

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